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S i d e b a r
Mexico’s Tarcisius
José Sánchez del Río
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This Rock
Volume 18, Number 7
 September 2007 
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In 1913, in the state of Michoacán, a boy was born to Macario and Maria Sánchez del Río. They called him José. Macario and Maria were cattle ranchers who loved Jesus Christ with all their hearts and who reared their four children, of whom José was the third, to do the same. José cultivated a strong devotion to the Blessed Virgin of Guadalupe and said his rosary each day with great care. He instructed the other young children of his town in the Catholic faith, and encouraged them to make holy hours before the Blessed Sacrament. José loved to play marbles with his companions, and he learned to ride and care for horses. When José was thirteen, his older brothers, Macario and Miguel, left home to join the Cristeros. José desired to join them, but his mother forbade it. For a year he begged her to let him go. "Mother," he said, "Will you deny me the chance to go to heaven, and so soon?"
At last his mother relented, and with tears in her eyes watched her youngest son ride off to join the crusade. The Cristero commander in José’s town refused the boy’s appeal to enlist, so he made his way some twenty or thirty miles to the next town, Cotija, where he presented himself to the Cristero commander, Prudencio Mendoza.
"What contribution can so small a boy make to our army?"
"I ride well. I know how to tend horses, clean weapons and spurs, and how to fry beans and tortillas."
Mendoza was inspired by the boy’s grit, so he made him the aide of the Cristero General Rubén Guízar Morfin. Impressed by José’s service, Morfin promoted him to bugler. His job was to ride alongside the general in combat, carrying his battle standard and delivering the general’s orders with his horn. The soldiers of José’s regiment, inspired by his piety and fervor, nicknamed him Tarcisius after the Roman altar boy who died protecting the Blessed Sacrament from a pagan mob.
On February 6, 1928, the Cristero army was overwhelmed by the federal army in fierce and bloody combat outside of Cotija. General Morfin’s horse was shot, and it looked as if he would soon be captured by the federal troops. José leapt off of his horse.
"General!" he shouted. "Take my mount and escape to safety. You are of far greater importance to the Cristero cause than I am."
Helping Morfin up into the saddle, José delivered a hard swat across the backside of the horse and sent it galloping away. He then took his rifle and bandolier and, taking cover behind a rock, began shooting the federal soldiers closing around him. At last the boy ran out of ammunition, and standing up shouted to the enemy, "I have not surrendered. I have only stopped shooting you because I am out of cartridges."
When the federal soldiers saw that they had been fired upon by a boy, they seized him in a fury. They put José in irons and dragged him off to the local church, which they had converted into a jail, a stable for their horses, and a coop for roosters they used in cockfights. These they had leashed to the church’s monstrance. Jose scolded the soldiers for desecrating a holy place.
"Now we will see, hombrecito, how tough you are!" they sneered.
To test his resolve, they forced José to watch as they took another captured Cristero, tortured him, and hanged him from a telegraph pole. Instead of looking away, José encouraged the prisoner, telling him that they would soon meet up in heaven. For two days, José was locked in the sacristy of the church, during which time he wrote to his mother, telling her that he had no fear, that he had welcomed the will of God and looked forward to dying in the light of our Lord.
The captain of the guard offered José his freedom in exchange for information about the Cristeros, including the names of the people who were supplying them. José refused, so they pinned him down and cut the skin off the soles of his feet. At eleven at night, they marched José to the cemetery on the edge of town, all the while telling him that if he would deny Jesus Christ they would spare his life.
"¡ Viva Cristo Rey!" shouted José, the rallying cry of the Cristeros. "¡ Viva Cristo Rey!" over and over as he limped in his bloodied feet over the gravel and twigs. "Long Live Christ the King! Long Live the Virgin of Guadalupe!" At the graveyard, José was pushed into a shallow grave. Struggling to his feet he again shouted, "¡ Viva Cristo Rey!" To avoid the sound of gunfire, the commander of the firing squad ordered his men to stab the boy with their bayonets. "¡ Viva Cristo Rey!" Again the bayonet into his side. "¡ Viva Santa Maria de Guadalupe!"
"Say ‘Death to Christ the King’ and save your life!" demanded the captain of the guard.
"¡ Viva Cristo Rey!"
The captain lost all patience and drew his own pistol. The first bullet struck José in the head, knocking him to the ground. As blood pooled next to his face, José, in a final act of defiance against the enemies of Jesus Christ who had taken over his country, dipped his hand in his blood and with it drew a cross in the dirt, then touched his lips to the cross. Six more bullets at point-blank range sent the martyr into the arms of his Savior.
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