Answering the Call to Sainthood

Dear Theophilous,

If you’re not shooting for sainthood, you’re aiming too low!

It’s the truth! A saint is someone who, after this earthly existence, is spending eternity in heaven. And seriously, if your goal in this life isn’t to get to heaven, my understanding is that the other destination is a lot less pleasant.

Unfortunately, many of us, even the most devout of Christians, don’t see ourselves as saints. Perhaps it’s in our fallen nature to dwell on our own sinfulness. Maybe when we compare ourselves to the saints that have gone before us, we feel we just can’t measure up. There’s a certain discomfort we feel when we’re put on a pedestal, just like the statues in the church vestibule. Personally, I know I will be found lacking when held to such a high standard.

Still, the God who knows us, the God who loves us, calls us to Himself; He calls us all to be saints.

Sainthood is for everyone

In its wisdom, the Catholic Church understands that, although we are sinners, we are all called to be saints; we are all called to holiness. This call began with the creation of Adam and Eve, and their task to tend and guard the garden (cf Gen 2:15). God’s invitation to holiness was extended once more through Jesus Christ when he called the disciples to himself (cf Mt 4:18-22). Once again, in our own time, the Church has made the universal call to holiness:

Therefore in the Church, everyone whether belonging to the hierarchy, or being cared for by it, is called to holiness, according to the saying of the Apostle: "For this is the will of God, your sanctification". (Thess 4:3) (LumenGentium 39)

Yet many of us balk at the contemporary call to sainthood. We look to the saints that came before us, fear we won’t make the cut, so we quit before we even try. The truth of sainthood is startling though. If we look at a history of saints, we soon realize that most of them were not holy from birth; that they required a conversion of heart. The Church itself was founded on sinners:

St. Peter denied Christ;

St. Mary Magdalene was a prostitute; and

St. Paul murdered some of the first Christians.

The list is endless. A great read to know you’re not alone in your sinful start to sainthood is Thomas Craughwell’s Saints Behaving Badly.

Why does God use sinners to become saints? He wants us to take solace in knowing that nothing is impossible with God – even with ourselves.

Sainthood starts now

As the saying goes, There’s no time like the present to get started on your way to holiness. Most of us won’t have a conversion experience like St. Paul, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversion of heart. We are all called by name, the question is: will we answer the call.

We might not always recognize them, but these calls are ever-present in our lives. They are not always big and brazen, the Lord rarely works like that, but they are usually a small nudge to get us going back in the right direction. It could be a near miss on the highway, a miscommunication that blows up at work, or a lifestyle choice that leads us to harm. I once heard these small nudges referred to as a Purgatorial Pinch. Once we recognize them, we can use these moments to re-boot our path to sainthood.

Whenever she wants to try to bring me down a notch, my own mother often reminds me of my misspent youth with a quip I know where you come from and I know what you’ve done. My pat answer to this remark is a steadfast: In the journey towards heaven, it’s not where we come from that counts, but where we’re going. I know exactly what my sins are; so does the Lord. I confess and I reconcile with Him, confident He will show me the way.

It’s in recognizing our faults that we become repentant and re-orient ourselves towards God. As any sinner will tell you, the road to sainthood is long and arduous. From time to time we may slip or lose our way. What matters is getting back on the right path so we can arrive at our destination.

It’s never too late to get on the road to sainthood (cf Mt 20:1-16), but NOW is always the best time to get started.

Sainthood is a community

Teaching catechesis in both French and English, as well has having a command of both Portuguese and German to varying degrees, I love to play with language. I’m constantly looking for the ways in which God uses language to bring us closer to him. Something I enjoy pointing out to my students is the compound make-up of the word community from the French “comme” and “un”; meaning “as one”. So when we profess in the Creed that we believe in the communion of saints, we are professing our belief in our oneness with those who are in heaven.

Knowing that we are as one with the saints, both those in heaven as well as the ones still here on earth, gives us great courage. Life is difficult, and our path towards heaven is hard – we can’t do it alone. Thanks be to God that we have the communion of saints to see us through.

We all have our favourite saints for various reasons. Most of us find a personal call to devotion to one saint or the other; some popular, while others are more obscure. I have found that the internet is littered with devotions to the saints that have gone before us. There are Twitter Novenas or virtual candles at countless websites to bring us in closer communion with the saints. All designed to help bring us closer to God. Personally, I enjoy reading brief bios of the saints of the day; finding inspiration in their stories and strength from their words of wisdom.

We can’t forget about the saints here on earth, the saints who walk among us in our everyday lives. Yes, my generation has been blessed to be personal witness to the lives of St. Teresa of Calcutta and St. John Paul the Great, but we need to remember the communion of saints that we spend our days with.

Our family is our first encounter with the communion of saints. When we were married 20 years ago, my wife and I were charged with getting each other to heaven. Now that we are blessed with a son, it’s our responsibility to get him there to. We can’t stop there, however, and we need to recognize the holiness in the others around us – family, friends, colleagues, neighbours; no matter how hard that can be at times.

We live in a communion of saints. We need to rely on each other, but we also need to encourage each other on our path to sainthood.

Sainthood is infectious

Once we decide that our own sainthood is possible, no matter how tarnished our past, we will see it begin to rub off on others. When we decide that now is the time to make a change, others will like what they see and will follow suit. It’s living in this communion of saints that we will begin to see that the universal call to holiness is infectious.

Our little actions of sanctity can go a long way in helping create other saints around us. A simple please or thank-you; letting someone into your lane in rush hour; stopping to talk and listen to a neighbour going through a rough time – each of these will have a greater effect on the other than a sense of entitlement, blaring horn or cold shoulder. When we are saintly two things will happen, we will draw other saintly souls towards ourselves, and, more importantly, we will cause the conversion of the hearts in those we meet.

Following the news in the world today, it’s more than obvious that the world needs saints. Heed the call to holiness. Know that you can become a saint.

Planting Faith like Acorns

Dear Theophilous,

Some where during my French literature studies (either in high school or university), I was introduced to the short story L’homme qui plantait des arbres (The Man Who Planted Trees) by Jean Giono. For whatever reason, this story has stuck with me over the years, while so many others seem to have come and gone through my memory.

The story is of a young man who finds himself in the company of an old shepherd in an isolated corner of the southern French Alps. Suffering from years of drought, the local industry has dried up and the village has been deserted save for this one lonely figure and his flock. As he tends his sheep each day on the barren hillside, the shepherd plants a few acorns – only so many as he can carry in his pocket. Over the decades the acorns grow into saplings, and the saplings into a forest that brings life back to this hidden valley. As creation reclaims the barren wilderness, so too people return to the village, bringing life and laughter back to where there was once only the mournful whistling of the wind through the ruins.

This beautiful tale of life reclaiming death has followed me throughout the years. Recently, however, I have found my perspective of the story changing. Where I once identified with the young man hiking in the mountains; more and more I see myself as the old shepherd and this tale as an allegory for evangelization.

It’s no secret that those of us living in North America seem to be living in a desolate landscape when it comes to love of God. St. John Paul the Great even went so far as to describe western culture as a Culture of Death. Many who decry the world we live in would like to change it overnight – instantaneously creating a Culture of Life out of this Culture of Death by waving some magic wand. What we need, however, is the wisdom of the man who planted trees.

To bring life back to his hidden valley, the old shepherd did not bring in a a forest of mature trees to be planted. Nor did he pay the moving expenses for the 10,000 people to be relocated back to the village. Instead he planted a pocketful of acorns, day in and day out. The old shepherd knew he could not bring life back tot eh valley tomorrow, but he did have the foresight to know that if he slowly changed the landscape back from its barrenness, life would return on its own.

I am finding more often that I need to take this approach with my evangelization efforts. There is no way that on my own I can re-orient the world towards God overnight, but I can plant the seeds that will bring the Culture of Life back to this barren wilderness. Each day I search to plant one acorn in the soul of one person that I come into contact with. Over time, I pray, I hope this acorn of hope will grow over the decades into a mighty tree of faith. If even half of the acorns planted grow to maturity, a great forest of faith will begin to cover the landscape.

As this forest of faith grows and offers shady protection, life will eventually come back to the barren world we live in now.

Why Read Catholic?



Dear Theophilus,

A long, hectic and somewhat adventurous school year now over, I can now turn my attention back to one of my joys in life – the written word. Through the school year, I often find the physical, intellectual and emotional demands of teaching so overwhelming that I rarely have either the time or energy to read, let alone put a few coherent thoughts together for this blog; this past year even more so due to the demands of a new position and a new curriculum to teach.

 

All of this said, at the beginning of every summer I look forward to diving into the pile of books that have been sitting on my bedside table (sometimes for months) as a part of my summer morning routine. This got me to thinking about the content of this year’s particular stack of books, and how they made their way onto my reading list. I essentially asked myself why I read what I read, which lead me to ponder the deeper question: Why read Catholic?

 

Why read Catholic, indeed? With the vast number of titles available at Chapters/Indigo, Amazon or Barnes and Noble, why should one go out of their way to read Catholic titles on Catholic subjects? I think the answer is quite simple: the best way to get to know one’s faith is to defend it, and the best way to defend one’s faith is to get to know it – I find the best way to do this, and to have the reference on hand when needed to defend the faith, is to read Catholic.

Much like the daunting task of trying to choose a title when you walk into a mega-bookstore, knowing where to start your Catholic reading journey can seem overwhelming at first as well. The best piece of advice here would be to ask around, talk to someone you know (friend, pastor, catechist, spiritual director) for some authors and titles they think you might enjoy. Think about what you would like to learn from your reading: Church teaching or prayer life. Some of my favourite authors on these subjects include: Scott Hahn, Fr. Robert Barron, Karl Keating and Fr. Mitch Pacwa.

With the vast selection of s authors, styles and subjects, keeping your reading list on track will also require some effort. In a conversation I had with friend PatrickSullivan recently I went down the list of titles I had read over the past few months or that I intend to read this summer; the list ranged from St. John Paul’s Theology of the Body to The Bad Catholic’s Guide to Good Living (which is more theologically sound than the title lets on). Patrick used terms such as eclectic and diverse to describe my reading list, I personally prefer the word scattered.

Patrick likened the process of reading Catholic to building a house, you need to build a sturdy foundation first, and then move upwards. What I`ve been doing is placing a brick here, and another there in a very disjointed fashion, with nothing to link one to the other. To get the most out of reading Catholic, you need to have a plan, a blueprint for your house. Once I get through the eclectic list on my bedside table (which should be around Christmas) I`ll sit down with Patrick and draw up my blueprint.

Finally, finding the Catholic titles you want can also prove to be a bit challenging. When standing bug-eyed in the religion section of the mega-bookstore it`s next to impossible to know which authors/titles are Catholic, and in a smaller bookstore they may not even be there at all. For this reason, I find knowing a good on-line Catholic book seller is essential; my favourite being Catholic Chapter House.

Sunday evenings at our house are known as wine and theology time, where I sit down with whichever book I’m currently reading and a glass (or two) of red wine. Now that the summer months are here, I encourage you, dear Theophilus, to also slow down, pour yourself a glass of your favourite libation, and read Catholic.

Mike's Prayer

Dear Theophilus,

As parents my wife and I are constantly wondering how we’re doing in raising our son. We sometimes find that we’re asking ourselves: “Are we getting it right?” Every so often our nine-year-old son Michael comes up with something that tells us that the answer is a resounding “Yes!”

This past Monday was one of those moments. As I was sorting through the myriad of papers (tests, letters, homework, etc.) that he had stuffed in his backpack, I came across a prayer he had written. I was astounded by what he had written. So with his permission, I’ll share it with you here:

Dear Lord, God,

Help us face the many abysses of evil.

Lord, thank you for our families and friends.

If we have disobeyed you in the past days of the New Year,

please let us remember that we are "all yours".

We are not perfect and let us not be judged in life by those who need prayers.

Help us know that you are there.

Amen

Needless to say I was absolutely floored. Days later I’m still amazed at how he understands his relationship with God can be on so many different levels. Michael’s prayer reminds us of how we need God in every aspect of our lives:

Protection from evil;

Thanksgiving for the many blessings in our lives;

Repentance for our sinfulness;

Acknowledgement that we must help one another through prayer; and

A longing to know God.

Our Catholic faith is a dynamic part of who we are as a family. We try to infuse it in everything that we do, from great family celebrations to the most mundane of daily chores. Between evening sports activities, homework and friends, we wonder sometimes if the message is getting through. It’s in moments like these that my wife and I know that God is working through us.