The Vatican has given the green light for Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen's cause for beatification to move forward, ending years of stalled progress for one of the most beloved Catholic figures in American history. Bishop Louis Tylka of the Diocese of Peoria, Illinois, received official word from the Holy See on Feb. 9.

For the Engstrom family, the news landed like a thunderclap of grace.

Bonnie Engstrom — the mother whose son's extraordinary survival as a newborn was recognized as a miracle in Sheen's cause — told EWTN News In Depth on Feb. 13 that she "laughed out loud with joy" when she heard the beatification was finally moving forward.

A Story That Defies Secular Explanation

James Fulton Engstrom was born at home on Sept. 16, 2010. He arrived without a heartbeat. Engstrom described the moment plainly:

"He was a stillborn, there was absolutely no sign of life."

What followed would test any parent beyond comprehension. In her telling, James had no pulse at home, in the ambulance, or in the hospital emergency room. The medical team prepared to call the time of death. Engstrom, in shock, did the only thing she could — she prayed. Not a formal prayer, not a liturgical formula. Just a name, repeated in desperation:

"Time of crisis, I was in a state of shock. I didn't really know what to do, but I remember calling on Fulton Sheen, just saying his name, 'Fulton Sheen, Fulton Sheen, Fulton Sheen.'"

Then, as all hands came off the infant and the medical team stood ready to declare him dead, his heart started beating. It never stopped again.

"While [James] was at home, while he was in the ambulance, and while he was at the hospital in the emergency room, he did not have a pulse for that entire time. Right as the medical team was ready to call time of death, all hands were off. And at that moment, his heart started to beat again, and it never stopped after that."

The initial MRI taken within the first 24 hours of James's life showed extensive brain damage. The follow-up was clear. Today, James Fulton Engstrom is a freshman in high school. His mother says he loves music, takes art classes, and is — in her words — "a great kid. Hardworking, funny."

That arc, from no pulse to no explanation to no lasting damage, is the kind of story that a materialist age doesn't quite know what to do with.

A Long Road Through the Vatican's Process

Sheen's cause for canonization first opened in 2002 under the leadership of the Diocese of Peoria, his birthplace. Pope Benedict XVI declared him venerable in June 2012. The board of medical experts advising the then-Congregation for the Causes of Saints unanimously approved the reported miracle on March 6, 2014. Pope Francis formally approved it on July 5, 2019.

By that timeline, beatification should have followed relatively quickly. It didn't.

The cause hit numerous delays — among them an ownership dispute over Sheen's remains and an investigation into clergy sex abuse in New York. The specifics remain murky, but the effect was concrete: a cause with full Vatican approval sat frozen for years while institutional complications unwound themselves in the background.

The Engstrom family felt that weight. Bonnie acknowledged the frustration, but framed it through the lens of faith rather than grievance:

"I think as things in the Church just continue to progress and time went by, we realized, we trust in Jesus and he's got it in control. And so we were able to really lean into that and move past the initial disappointment."

Why Sheen Still Matters

Archbishop Fulton Sheen was, before there was a word for it, a culture warrior. He brought Catholic teaching into American living rooms through television at a time when the culture still had room for unashamed moral clarity. He debated Communism, defended the dignity of the human person, and did it all with intellect and charisma that the modern Church desperately misses.

His beatification carries weight beyond ecclesiastical procedure. In an era when religious institutions face relentless pressure to soften their convictions, to accommodate rather than proclaim, advancing the cause of a man who spent his life doing the opposite sends a signal. Sheen didn't hedge. He didn't apologize for Catholic teaching. He proclaimed it — on national television, no less — and millions listened.

That the miracle attached to his cause involves a child's life makes it all the more fitting. The pro-life movement doesn't traffic in abstractions. It insists that every life matters, from its first heartbeat. James Fulton Engstrom's heart started when medicine said it shouldn't have. The Church examined the evidence, the medical board reviewed it unanimously, and two popes affirmed it.

A Family's Footnote in Church History

Bonnie Engstrom seems to carry the extraordinary nature of her family's role with the right mixture of gratitude and humility. She and her husband had named their son after Sheen before the crisis, having grown in devotion to him during her pregnancy:

"We had started getting to know Fulton Sheen and growing in our devotion to him while I was pregnant with James. During that pregnancy we had decided to name our son after him … to really put him under his patronage."

Patronage, in this case, proved to be more than a spiritual sentiment.

Asked about the beatification finally moving forward, Engstrom didn't reach for grand theological language. She kept it simple:

"We're so happy about it."

"We really appreciate that in all of Church history, our family has a little footnote in it in a very special way, and it's remarkable. It is such an honor, and it's such a joyful thing."

A little footnote. A boy born without a pulse, alive and thriving fifteen years later, whose story helped carry one of America's greatest Catholic voices toward sainthood. Some footnotes rewrite the page.