A saint wears sneakers.
When thousands of young Catholics waved placards and phone screens with the face of Carlo Acutis who loved to dress in jeans, sneakers and polo shirt, in St. Peter’s Square on Sunday, the Vatican looked less like the seat of ancient tradition and more like a global youth rally, and in many ways, that was the point.
Carlo Acutis, who died in 2006 at just 15, has now become the Catholic Church’s first millennial saint. For a Church trying to reintroduce itself to a skeptical younger generation, his canonisation was both a spiritual milestone and a strategic moment.
Born in London in 1991 to Italian parents working in finance, Acutis spent only a few months in the UK before moving back to Milan. He grew up like many other teenagers of his era: he loved football, made goofy films with his pets, and played Nintendo games. But unlike most, he also used his pocket money to help the homeless, stood up for classmates who were bullied, and began teaching himself how to code. By 14, he had built a website documenting “Eucharistic miracles”, unusual religious events said to happen during Catholic Mass. It earned him the nickname “God’s influencer.”
When he died of leukemia in 2006, his mother Antonia Salzano says she felt her life turned upside down. “I was converted by my son,” she later admitted. It was she who began pushing for his sainthood, travelling the world to share his story and gathering testimonies of miraculous healings attributed to him.
A relatable saint
On Sunday, Pope Leo XIV presided over Acutis’ canonisation in Rome, alongside that of Pier Giorgio Frassatti, a young Italian who died in 1925.
For many young Catholics, that relatability is the draw. “He used to play Super Mario. He wore jeans. He made websites,” said Diego Sarkissian, a young Catholic from London who attended the event. “The fact that you can think of a saint doing the same things you do makes holiness feel closer.”
Indeed, Acutis’ tomb in Assisi, where he is displayed in sneakers and casual clothes inside a glass sarcophagus, has become one of the most visited Catholic sites in Europe. Nearly a million people made the trip last year alone.
Miracles and momentum
Canonisation in the Catholic Church typically takes decades or even centuries, requiring proof of at least two miracles. In Acutis’ case, the Vatican attributed the sudden healing of a Brazilian boy with a severe digestive disorder and the recovery of a Costa Rican girl after a traumatic brain injury to his intercession. That was enough to fast-track his sainthood.
Critics, however, say the speed raises questions. Andrea Grillo, a theologian in Rome, warns against building devotion around collecting “miracle stories” rather than focusing on the deeper meaning of faith. But Church leaders insist Acutis’ story is less about miracles and more about modern relevance.
Archbishop Domenico Sorrentino of Assisi, where Acutis is buried, says the crowds speak for themselves: “Almost a million young people visited last year. That number will only grow.”
Faith in the digital age
What makes Acutis unusual is not just his age but his medium. Long before the Church began talking about livestream Masses or social media outreach, Acutis was experimenting with the internet as a tool for evangelising. He once said: “The internet is a gift from God, but you have to use it well.”
His mother recalls that while he loved technology, he set boundaries, limiting video games to one hour a week. “Carlo used to say all are born originals, but many die as photocopies,” she told an audience in Assisi earlier this year. “He wanted young people to realise that everyone has a mission.”
That message resonates with Generation Z, many of whom juggle the anxieties of a hyperconnected digital culture. At the Centro Amici di Carlo Acutis, a center dedicated to him in Assisi, visitors leave notes saying they feel seen by a saint who faced the same temptations and distractions they do.
A strategic canonisation
For the Vatican, the timing matters. The Church is still grappling with scandals around clerical abuse and the broader trend of declining religious affiliation in the West. In that context, elevating a relatable young figure is more than a spiritual decision. It is a way to reframe the Church’s future.
By making Acutis a saint, the Vatican signals it wants to engage with young people not as passive followers, but as digital natives who can shape the faith in new ways. Already, shrines dedicated to him are springing up in the United States and across Europe, and his image circulates widely on TikTok, Instagram, and Catholic youth groups.
Whether this leads to a revival of faith is uncertain. But on Sunday, as flags waved and chants rose for a boy who coded websites in his bedroom, the Catholic Church sent a clear message: holiness is no longer confined to history books. It can wear sneakers, play PlayStation, and post online.
Carlo Acutis may be gone, but in the Church’s eyes, he is now officially immortal, and the first saint of the millennial generation, and perhaps the blueprint for how the Vatican hopes to win back its youth.
