Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, March 13, 1992 TAG: 9203130337
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: GREG SCHNEIDER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LAKE RIDGE LENGTH: Medium
Whether it is divine will that gave Rev. James Bruse wounds like Christ's and the power to make statues weep is a matter of faith. The last blood is said to have flowed two weeks ago, and the last tears dried two Sundays back.
Still the faithful trek across Northern Virginia, past Devil's Reach Road, past the Elysian Woods apartments to a forested neighborhood of $250,000 homes, where the contemporary-styled Roman Catholic church occupies a hillside over a small lake.
At Thursday morning's Mass, administered by Bruse, the usual crowd of 40 swelled to more than 400. In the parking lot were license plates from Connecticut, Maryland, Florida, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire.
After the Mass, a church worker hustled the well-coiffed associate minister from the building by the arm. In the lobby, women placed figures of the Virgin Mary on a table next to a sign promoting drinks and cold-cuts at a St. Patrick's Day party, hoping Bruse would come back for a blessing.
But since a Washington, D.C., television station revealed his mysterious claims Friday, Bruse, 37, has drawn increasingly away from the public.
Ninety minutes after Thursday's Mass, Bruse spoke for about two minutes.
"How are y'all doing?" Bruse began, smiling and looking as shy and reserved as all who know him describe him.
"I just wanted to sum up and clarify things. What I noticed is that certain statues of Mary and Christ that are touched do cry. Some do, some don't. I don't know what the significance means. I know it must be some kind of special gift that I've got."
To Bruse's left was a 4-foot, fiberglass statue of a faintly smiling Virgin Mary holding a grinning baby Jesus. At Sunday Mass two weeks ago, in Bruse's presence, water streamed from at least one of Mary's eyes for about an hour. Hundreds saw it.
Few have seen the priest's wounds. "I have these wounds they call the Stigmata," Bruse said in the news conference. He moved his hands self-consciously, and in quick glimpses no scars could be seen on his wrists, where the wounds are said to have been.
"They are similar to Christ's, but most of it is gone," he said.
After saying once more that he thought he had received a "special gift" from God, Bruse sat down.
Local church officials have questioned Bruse and submitted him to a medical exam that found no medical evidence to support anything.
There was no direct message revealed to the priest, the Catholic Diocese of Arlington's chancery said in a statement. Until there is some further communication from God, if that's what this is, the diocese "advises against any speculation on the causes or possible significance of the reported events."
by CNB