The Greatest Reform. Saint Charles and His Passion for Humanity

When the Bishop of Novara died, Saint Charles was only 46 years old, but already exhausted from his labors, fasting, and illness. Someone told him the news almost as a reproach: “That priest died because he didn’t know how to take care of himself.” But Charles calmly replied, “That is how a bishop should die.”

Everyone who met Saint Charles was struck by his strength, his tenacity, his tireless drive to build. His friend, Saint Philip Neri, once asked: “Is this man made of iron?”
And yet his body was frail, weakened by constant penance—and even by bullets lodged in his flesh after an assassination attempt.
But he was strong because he loved.

It all began when Charles was 22 years old. At that time, he was considered the true power behind the Church: the Pope’s nephew, his closest and most influential collaborator, holding multiple offices, privileges, and responsibilities. His rise seemed unstoppable—until suddenly, everything changed.
Charles was deeply shaken by the death of his brother, who, like him, was at the height of worldly success.
He met Father Ribera and realized that the salvation of his soul mattered more than anything else in the world. From that moment on, he began a life of prayer and penance.
He became a priest for the people—a shepherd, a guide, and a companion for everyone he encountered.

He was the soul of the Tridentine reform: he founded seminaries, reformed religious congregations, and initiated many charitable works.
Above all, he was a priest close to the people, showing through his own life that there can be no passion for Christ without passion for humanity.
When the plague broke out in Milan, he did not flee but personally tended to the sick.
He often repeated: “Jesus suffered much more for us—let us repay love with love.”

He never stopped. He visited every parish in his diocese—the largest in the world—twice.
He usually scheduled his visits during the hottest months because, as he said, “It is beautiful to do good on the days many dedicate to rest.”
And since the stifling afternoon heat invites sleep, he would travel during those hours so as not to waste time.

The holiness of Charles shone like a light in the darkness of the Protestant crisis, political struggles, and widespread poverty.
From him we learn that there can be no true change in the world without a conversion of the heart, and no reform of the Church without personal reform.
This is why our times, though difficult, are beautiful: because it is clear that the fragile human self is the only true starting point for renewal.