Kingston, Ontario — THERE was no mistaking
the diagnostic significance of that little red stick inside a deep blue cell:
The Auer rod meant the mystery patient had acute myelogenous leukemia. As slide
after slide went by, her bone marrow told a story: treatment, remission,
relapse, treatment, remission, remission, remission.
I was reading these marrows in 1987, but the
samples had been drawn in 1978 and 1979. Median survival of that lethal disease
with treatment was about 18 months; however, given that she had already
relapsed once, I knew that she had to be dead. Probably someone was being sued,
and that was why my hematology colleagues had asked for a blind
reading.
Imagining an aggressive cross-examination in
court, I emphasized in my report that I knew neither the history nor why I was
reading the marrows. After the work was submitted, I asked the treating
physician what was going on. She smiled and said that my report had been sent to
the Vatican. This leukemia case was being considered
as the final miracle in the dossier of Marie-Marguerite d’Youville, the founder
of the Order of Sisters of Charity of Montreal and a candidate to become the
first Canadian-born saint.
As in the case of Mother Teresa, who was
canonized Sunday by Pope Francis, miracles are still used as evidence that the
candidate is in heaven and had interceded with God in response to a petition.
Two miracles, usually cures that defy natural explanation, are generally
required. For Mother Teresa, the Vatican concluded that prayers to her led to the
disappearance of an Indian woman’s incurable tumor and the sudden recovery of a
Brazilian man with a brain infection.
The “miracle”
involving d’Youville had already been overturned once by the Vatican’s medical
committee, unconvinced by the story of a first remission, a relapse, and a much
longer second remission. The clerics argued that she had never relapsed and that
her survival in first remission was rare but not impossibly so. But the panel
and her advocates agreed that a “blind” reading of the evidence by another
expert might provoke reconsideration. When my report confirmed what the Ottawa
doctors found, that she had indeed had a short remission and then relapsed, the
patient, who had prayed to d’Youville for help and, against all odds, was still
alive, wanted me to testify.
The tribunal that questioned me was not
juridical, but ecclesiastical. I was not asked about my faith. (For the record,
I’m an atheist.) I was not asked if it was a miracle. I was asked if I could
explain it scientifically. I could not, though I had come armed for my testimony
with the most up-to-date hematological literature, which showed that long
survivals following relapses were not seen.
When, at the end, the Vatican committee asked
if I had anything more to say, I blurted out that as much as her survival, thus
far, was remarkable, I fully expected her to relapse some day sooner or later.
What would the Vatican do then, revoke the canonization? The clerics recorded my
doubts. But the case went forward and d’Youville was canonized on Dec. 9,
1990.
That experience, as a hematologist, led me to
a research project that I conducted in my other role, as a historian of
medicine. I was curious: What were the other miracles used in past
canonizations? How many were healings? How many involved up-to date treatments?
How many were attended by skeptical physicians like me? How did all that change
through time? And can we explain those outcomes now?
Over hundreds of hours in the Vatican
archives, I examined the files of more than 1,400 miracle investigations — at
least one from every canonization between 1588 and 1999. A vast majority — 93
percent over all and 96 percent for the 20th century — were stories of recovery
from illness or injury, detailing treatment and testimony from baffled
physicians.
If a sick person recovers through prayer and
without medicine, that’s nice, but not a miracle. She had to be sick or dying
despite receiving the best of care. The church finds no incompatibility
between scientific medicine and religious faith; for believers, medicine is just
one more manifestation of God’s work on earth.
Perversely then, this ancient religious
process, intended to celebrate exemplary lives, is hostage to the relativistic
wisdom and temporal opinions of modern science. Physicians, as nonpartisan
witnesses and unaligned third parties, are necessary to corroborate the claims
of hopeful postulants. For that reason alone, illness stories top miracle
claims. I never expected such reverse skepticism and emphasis on science within
the church.
I also learned more about medicine and its
parallels with religion. Both are elaborate, evolving systems of belief.
Medicine is rooted in natural explanations and causes, even in the absence of
definitive evidence. Religion is defined by the supernatural and the
possibility of transcendence. Both address our plight as mortals who suffer —
one to postpone death and relieve symptoms, the other to console us and
reconcile us to pain and loss.
Respect for our religious
patients demands understanding and tolerance; their beliefs are as true for them
as the “facts” may be for physicians. Now almost 40 years later, that mystery
woman is still alive and I still cannot explain why. Along with the Vatican, she
calls it a miracle. Why should my inability to offer an explanation trump her
belief? However they are interpreted, miracles exist, because that is how they
are lived in our world.