GARABANDAL AND THE INNER STRUGGLE FOR FIDELITY AND 

Today, January 17th, we celebrate the memory of Saint Anthony, father of monks; therefore, I write this meditation, seeking to relate two realities: Garabandal and the spiritual legacy of Saint Anthony. The spirituality that springs from the apparitions of Our Lady in San Sebastián de Garabandal, Spain, between 1961 and 1965, reveals itself, when dealt with theological seriousness and ecclesial prudence, as an incisive call to the inner truth of man before God. It is not primarily about extraordinary messages or future signs, but about a direct challenge to the Christian conscience, confronted with the permanent temptation to live a fragmented, selective, and superficial faith. Garabandal touches the most sensitive spiritual nerve of modernity: the rupture between religious appearance and real conversion of the heart. It is precisely at this point that its message finds profound consonance with the ascetic tradition of the Church and with the radical experience of Saint Anthony of the Desert, master of the inner spiritual struggle. 

The spirituality that springs from the apparitions of Our Lady in San Sebastián de Garabandal, when received with theological seriousness and with the prudence proper to the Church, rises as a vigorous and urgent exhortation to the inner truth of man before God. It is not about satisfying curiosities about the extraordinary, nor about fixing one's gaze on future signs, but about allowing oneself to be judged by one's own conscience in the light of the Gospel. Garabandal challenges the Christian where modernity falters most: in the temptation to live a fragmented, negotiated, superficial faith, accommodated to personal conveniences. It is a call that wounds, because it heals; that disturbs, because it awakens. And precisely for this reason it finds profound consonance with the ascetic tradition of the Church and with the radical experience of Saint Anthony of the Desert, an unavoidable master of the inner spiritual combat. At the heart of this spirituality lies the drama of the human heart, divided between the desire to belong totally to God and the inner resistance that manifests itself in multiple forms: attachment, complacency, lukewarmness, self-justification, and fear of evangelical radicalism. The message of Garabandal does not ignore this tension; on the contrary, it exposes it clearly. When Our Lady insists on the need for conversion, penance, and fidelity, she implicitly recognizes that the greatest battlefield is not outside the Church, but within the heart of man, including—and perhaps especially—in the hearts of those who call themselves believers, consecrated persons, or sacred ministers.

At the heart of this spirituality lies the decisive drama of Christian existence: a divided heart that desires God but resists His sovereignty; that yearns for salvation but recoils before the cross; that professes faith but harbors secret reservations. Our Lady, in Garabandal, does not soften this reality: she exposes it with maternal clarity and salvific severity. When she insists on conversion, penance, and fidelity, she points to the true battlefield—not outside the Church, but within man, including the hearts of those who call themselves believers, consecrated persons, and ministers of the sacred. There is no ecclesial renewal without personal conversion. There is no holiness without inner truth. Saint Anthony understood this reality viscerally. By withdrawing to the desert, he did not flee the outside world but deliberately entered the most arduous field of spiritual combat: the interior of his own soul. The temptations that assailed him—described by patristic tradition not as metaphors, but as real spiritual experiences—symbolize this constant struggle between grace and disordered passions. Anthony discovered that it is not enough to outwardly belong to the Church, nor even to practice religious acts; it is necessary that the heart be purified, unified, and totally oriented towards God. Garabandal takes up exactly this same teaching in a maternal, yet severe, language. The implicit criticism present in Garabandal's messages is directed at a faith of appearance, satisfied with outward gestures, but incapable of transforming life. The warning about the little value given to the Eucharist, about the trivialization of sin, and about the loss of the sense of the sacred is not a sociological denunciation, but a spiritual one. It reveals a faith lived in a partial way, where man accepts from God only that which does not offend his affections, his projects, or his comforts. It is a faith molded to one's own measure, and not to the measure of the Gospel. This risk has always been identified by monastic tradition as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual illusion. It is a mutilated faith that accepts from God only what does not require real conversion. A faith molded to human taste, and not to the measure of the Gospel. Monastic tradition has always identified this state as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual deception, because it numbs the conscience and prevents repentance.

Consecrated life, in this context, occupies a particularly delicate place. Garabandal does not speak against the Church, but from within it, especially calling upon those who should be a sign of totality. The religious vocation exists precisely to witness that God deserves everything, and not just a part. When consecrated life accommodates itself to a selective faith—choosing what is agreeable and relativizing what is demanding—it loses its prophetic force. Saint Anthony denounced this inner division with absolute clarity: it is not possible to serve God while maintaining secret reservations in the heart. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in the spirituality of Garabandal, is not merely moral, but profoundly theological. It concerns the resistance of man, wounded by original sin, to accepting that God is the absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears His demands. It wants salvation, but avoids the cross. It wants consolation, but rejects purification. Garabandal insists on penance precisely because he recognizes that without inner purification there is no true spiritual freedom. Penance is not punishment, but an instrument of truth that unmasks illusions and restores the heart to its correct orientation. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in Garabandal, is not merely moral; it is theological and spiritual. It concerns the profound resistance of man, wounded by sin, to accepting God as absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears losing control. It desires light, but avoids purification. It desires consolation, but rejects the painful truth. This is why Garabandal insists on penance: not as punishment, but as a path to liberation. Without inner purification, there is no spiritual freedom; without truth, there is no authentic love. 

According to this spirituality, authentic faith is not measured by the intensity of religious emotions or the frequency of outward practices, but by the coherence between professed faith and lived life. Saint Anthony taught that the devil does not fear pious discourses, but fears a humble and obedient heart. Similarly, Garabandal calls for an incarnate, sacramental, morally coherent faith, faithful to the doctrine of the Church in its entirety. In this perspective, there is no room for a Christianity adapted to personal tastes or the cultural pressures of the moment, identified by the monastic tradition as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual illusion. It is a mutilated faith, which accepts from God only what does not demand real conversion. A faith molded to human taste, and not to the measure of the Gospel. The monastic tradition has always identified this state as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual deception, because it anesthetizes the conscience and prevents repentance. Consecrated life, in this context, occupies a particularly delicate place. Garabandal does not speak against the Church, but from within it, especially calling upon those who should be a sign of totality. Religious vocation exists precisely to bear witness that God deserves everything, not just a part. When consecrated life accommodates itself to a selective faith—choosing what is agreeable and relativizing what is demanding—it loses its prophetic force. Saint Anthony denounced this inner division with absolute clarity: it is not possible to serve God while maintaining secret reservations in one's heart. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in the spirituality of Garabandal, is not merely moral, but profoundly theological. It concerns the resistance of man, wounded by original sin, to accepting that God is the absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears His demands. It wants salvation, but avoids the cross. It wants consolation, but rejects purification. Garabandal insists on penance precisely because it recognizes that without inner purification there is no true spiritual freedom. Penance is not punishment, but an instrument of truth that unmasks illusions and restores the heart to its correct orientation. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in Garabandal, is not merely moral; it is theological and spiritual. It concerns the profound resistance of man, wounded by sin, to accepting God as absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears losing control. It desires light, but avoids purification. It desires consolation, but rejects the painful truth. This is why Garabandal insists on penance: not as punishment, but as a path to liberation. Without inner purification, there is no spiritual freedom; without truth, there is no authentic love. 

According to this spirituality, authentic faith is not measured by the intensity of religious emotions or the frequency of outward practices, but by the coherence between professed faith and lived life. Saint Anthony taught that the devil does not fear pious discourses, but fears a humble and obedient heart. Similarly, Garabandal calls for an incarnate, sacramental, morally coherent faith, faithful to the doctrine of the Church in its entirety. In this perspective, there is no room for a Christianity adapted to personal tastes or the cultural pressures of the moment, identified by the monastic tradition as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual illusion. It is a mutilated faith, which accepts from God only what does not demand real conversion. A faith molded to human taste, and not to the measure of the Gospel. The monastic tradition has always identified this state as one of the most dangerous forms of spiritual deception, because it anesthetizes the conscience and prevents repentance. Consecrated life, in this context, occupies a particularly delicate place. Garabandal does not speak against the Church, but from within it, especially calling upon those who should be a sign of totality. Religious vocation exists precisely to bear witness that God deserves everything, not just a part. When consecrated life accommodates itself to a selective faith—choosing what is agreeable and relativizing what is demanding—it loses its prophetic force. Saint Anthony denounced this inner division with absolute clarity: it is not possible to serve God while maintaining secret reservations in one's heart. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in the spirituality of Garabandal, is not merely moral, but profoundly theological. It concerns the resistance of man, wounded by original sin, to accepting that God is the absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears His demands. It wants salvation, but avoids the cross. It wants consolation, but rejects purification. Garabandal insists on penance precisely because it recognizes that without inner purification there is no true spiritual freedom. Penance is not punishment, but an instrument of truth that unmasks illusions and restores the heart to its correct orientation. The inner struggle, both in Anthony and in Garabandal, is not merely moral; it is theological and spiritual. It concerns the profound resistance of man, wounded by sin, to accepting that God is the absolute Lord. The human heart desires God, but fears losing control. It desires light, but avoids purification. It desires consolation, but rejects the painful truth. Therefore, Garabandal insists on penance: not as punishment, but as a path to liberation. Without inner purification, there is no spiritual freedom; without truth, there is no authentic love. Authentic faith, according to this spirituality, is not measured by the intensity of religious emotions nor by the frequency of external practices, but by the coherence between professed faith and lived life. Saint Anthony taught that the devil does not fear pious discourses, but fears a humble and obedient heart. Similarly, Garabandal calls for an incarnate, sacramental, morally coherent faith, faithful to the doctrine of the Church in its entirety. From this perspective, there is no room for a Christianity adapted to personal tastes or the cultural pressures of the moment. True faith, according to this spirituality, is not measured by the intensity of religious emotions nor by the multiplication of external practices, but by the radical coherence between what is professed and what is lived. Saint Anthony taught that the devil is not intimidated by pious words, but flees from a humble, obedient, and undivided heart. Garabandal echoes this teaching by calling for an incarnate, sacramental, morally coherent faith, fully faithful to the doctrine of the Church. There is no room for a Christianity molded to cultural pressures or personal tastes. Catholic doctrine is not an optional accessory, but a path of truth and freedom. To separate mercy from conversion, love from truth, faith from moral obligation is to distort the Gospel. Garabandal gravely recalls that the rupture between faith and life is at the root of the contemporary spiritual crisis. Saint Anthony already knew this: when doctrine ceases to shape life, spirituality becomes illusory and the heart remains enslaved. Catholic doctrine, far from being an optional set of ideas, is presented as a path to truth and freedom. Living only the aspects that please—mercy without conversion, love without truth, faith without moral demands—leads to a distortion of the Gospel. Garabandal implicitly recalls that the rupture between faith and life is one of the deepest causes of the contemporary spiritual crisis. Saint Anthony had already perceived this centuries before: when doctrine ceases to shape life, spirituality becomes illusory. 

With regard to the Eucharist, the inner struggle reaches its most decisive point. To truly believe in the real presence of Christ implies ordering one's life according to this mystery. One cannot affirm with one's lips what one denies with one's life. Garabandal's warning about receiving communion without awareness of the state of grace reveals this inner fracture between professed faith and concrete practice. For the monastic tradition, the Eucharist has always been the mirror of inner truth: whoever lives divided cannot bear to remain before the Blessed Sacrament. Updating Garabandal for the present day means recognizing that the greatest danger for the Church is not external persecution, but internal spiritual mediocrity, fueled by a faith of convenience. Consecrated life is called, more than ever, to be a sign of integrity, totality, and evangelical radicalism. Like Saint Anthony, the consecrated person is called to witness that God is not an addition to life, but its absolute center. 

In short, the spirituality of Garabandal, understood in the light of Saint Anthony and the monastic tradition, rises as an urgent cry for the unification of the heart. God does not ask for fragments, but for totality. He does not accept a negotiated faith, but an unreserved surrender. In a world fascinated by appearances and indifferent to truth, this spirituality powerfully reminds us: only complete fidelity to the Gospel and the doctrine of the Church generates saints—and only saints can truly renew the Church. From the little City of Mary, with prayers and my priestly blessing 

+ Fr. Viana 

Apostolate of Garabandal, January 2026