Magdalena de la Cruz was revered as a living saint, bearing Christ’s wounds. But on her deathbed, she confessed: the stigmata were faked with animal blood and stage tricks. Her piety was a performance.
A Texas church believed a communion wafer was bleeding—but lab tests found it wasn’t blood. It was a red-pigmented microbe. The faithful called it a miracle. Science called it a fungus.
Did the sun really dance over Portugal in 1917? Or did tens of thousands of people just see what they were primed to expect? Let's unpack one of Catholicism’s most famous miracles.
Memory isn’t a recording—it’s a rewrite. From revivals to hypnosis to courtroom drama, we explore how suggestion and emotion inflate our memories into false certainties that feel undeniably real.
Eyewitness testimony fuels stories like the Resurrection and Fatima’s dancing sun. But what if memory—especially in moments of grief and faith—builds miracles from meaning?
