Brother Weeps used to bid farewell to visitors by saying, “Goodbye, goodpeople.”And then, “Remember, if you can’t be good, be holy.”

~ Dan Miller, © 2019. All Rights Reserved.

NOTE: My Catholic tradition has great reverence for the saints. As do I. But even as it issues a “universal call to holiness,”1 the institutional church has at times gotten in the way of what real sanctity looks like. Too often our conception of holiness has been skewed by a hagiography that leans heavily toward religious caricature, making saintliness sentimental, otherworldy, overly pietistic, moralistic, oft-putting, unattractive, and reserved for the professionally religious. This misconception is held by more than just Catholics and more than just Christians.

My sense is we know genuine holiness when we see it. There is nothing caricature-like or angelic or exclusive or pretentious or priggish about it. Quite the opposite (literally). The holy people I know are the most authentic, human, earthy, least bland, most alive and free people I know. They not only tend to be well-acquainted with grief and failure but also are close friends with laughter and humor. Because they take life so seriously, they don’t need to take themselves so seriously. They are simply, profoundly, and especially, as theologian Elizabeth Johnson has described them, “the friends of God.”2

If you dared to read through Butler’s Lives of the Saints, from the first century Christians up to, say, the closing of Vatican II in 1965, you’d think that God’s friends were only martyrs, virgins, bishops, popes, ascetics, monks, priests, nuns, and brothers. This religious classism, though slightly less intense, is still present today and is perpetuated by clergy and laity alike.

My experience is that the holy ones are frequently found in the seemingly least likeliest of places, and look nothing like the heavenward-gazing, glazy-eyed, ruddy-cheeked figures with hands perfectly and prayerfully folded who adorn holy cards and ersatz knick-knacks in religious stores. They are found baking bread, cleaning offices, swinging hammers, changing diapers, singing songs, teaching children, counseling youth, mentoring young adults, befriending neighbors, taking care of elderly parents, doctoring the neglected, leaving their comfort zone and sitting with the student who always eats alone at lunch, using their talents to protect and care for the earth, acting as crosswalk guards, advocating for the marginalized, tending to the physically, emotionally, and spiritually hurting, using their money for worthy, philanthropic work, bringing beauty to the world through their art, doing research to enhance the well-being of others, answering the phone at suicide prevention centers, holding the hand of the sick, and praying with the dying. Blessed are the unanimous and anonymous friends of God whose hearts are broken or widening or full or given to the advancement of compassion, justice, the common good and the dream of God. Blessed be God forever.

1  Pope Paul VI, Lumen Gentium, #40, 1964. (Document on the Church from the Second Vatican Council)

2 Elizabeth A. Johnson, Friends of God and Prophets: A Feminist Theological Reading of the Communion of Saints. Continuum; 1 edition (September 1, 1999.

SEE or write Comments below.