Striving to be a Saint

Solemnity of All Saints
    [In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen].  I think that when it comes to the saints, we have such an elevated view of them that we can forget they were real people, and some of them had not so pleasant pasts.  How often do we read or hear stories about the saints that make us think they never did anything wrong?  Certainly, the Blessed Mother never sinned.  And there have been some saints who did live pristine lives.  But the saints were people just like me and you, with their own small sins and foibles.  

    Think of St. Augustine, a favorite saint in this parish because of the long history of the Augustinians.  His past was anything but perfect.  He tried seemingly every philosophy and heresy he could.  He stole a pear simply for the pleasure of taking something that didn’t belong to him.  And he was a bit promiscuous and had a child out of wedlock.  Now, he’s not a saint because he did those things, but because he accepted the grace of God and turned his life around.  But still, he wasn’t perfect.  Or we could look at a more recent saint like Pope St. John Paul II.  Certainly he was a holy pontiff, and brought the light of the Gospel to many people by focusing on the new evangelization.  He had a deep devotion to the Blessed Mother, and a grueling pace of work and prayer.  Still, without knowing just how much he knew, a rot existed in the Church during his papacy due to sinful priests, bishops, and cardinals, and, in hindsight, these problems didn’t always get dealt with in the best way.  But still, even at his funeral, the crowds made signs and shouted “Santo subito!” Or “make him a saint immediately!”
    Being a saint does not mean necessarily that a person is sinless.  But it means that they continue to seek to do better to live a life of heroic virtue, or are willing to give their lives for Christ.  To use the cliché phrase, saints are sinners who keep trying.  And while we don’t want to lower the bar for what makes a person a saint, certainly we also want to recognize that holiness is possible, even if it comes after years of starts and stops.  The key is that we never stop trying to say yes to God and no to sin.
    The Church’s teaching on mortal sin is clear.  If we commit a grave sin, with knowledge and freedom in our choice, then we cut ourselves off from sanctifying grace, the grace that makes us saints and allows us to go to heaven.  Through Holy Baptism, God gives us all that we need so that we never commit a mortal sin.  And there are some saints who lived in such a way.  St. Thérèse of Lisieux’s confessor told her that he believed she never committed a mortal sin.  But what concerns me as a confessor is not so much if a person struggles with sin, even mortal sin, but rather if that person doesn’t seem to be struggling at all.  I’m not the judge, so I guess it doesn’t matter what I think, but while I affirm wholeheartedly what the Catholic Church teaches– that if a person dies in a state of mortal sin, we have no reason to believe that person could go to heaven–I also think that a person who struggles with sin, even mortal sin, could be a saint, that is, could go to heaven, even if a long time in Purgatory would be necessary, as long as that person was fighting for holiness.  
    Certainly, I do not mean to encourage anyone here to commit mortal sin.  Stay away from mortal sin as much as you can!  But, I think it can be easy to give into despair, and forget that God can make saints out of people who struggle, but who engage the struggle and do their best to respond to God’s grace and stay in a state of grace as much as possible.  So many young people today get exposed to sexual temptations, in person or through screens, which can create bad habits and even addictions.  But simply because a person has a bad habit, or even an addiction, does not mean that heaven is closed off.  Again, strive to remain in a state of grace, and make sure you go to confession as soon as possible if you fall into mortal sin, because we have very little hope if a person dies in a state of mortal sin.  But hope remains as long as the person strives to receive God’s grace and change.
    As we hear the Beatitudes enumerated for us in the Gospel, the list of what makes one truly blessed and prepared for heaven, it is easy even for a person who doesn’t sin mortally to struggle with one or more of the Beatitudes.  Perhaps we find it difficult to entrust ourselves to God in spiritual poverty, or stay satisfied with not being recognized or well-known.  Or maybe we struggle to stand up when others are oppressed, or to forgive one who has harmed us, or even to keep our minds pure and work for peace.  Or maybe we find it difficult to suffer insults for God or even have others calumniate us though we have done nothing wrong.  To be a saint means that we do our best to grow in whatever Beatitude or Beatitudes that do not come easily to us.  The one hundred forty-four thousand–a symbolic number which combines the twelve tribes of Israel times twelve thousand, which stands for a great multitude–certainly includes those who did not always live as our Lord taught, at least not perfectly.  But while they may not have lived as a disciple perfectly, they still strove for perfection, made possible by the grace of God, and allowed God’s grace to pick them up, even time after time, to choose God and reject sin.
    [My dear candidates for full communion: today you profess with us that you wish to be saints.  You have come to realize the fullness of truth in the Catholic Church, and want access to all the graces God wants to give you so that you can access His holiness.  God gave you a foundation in other ecclesial communities, and now He welcomes you into the one Church Christ founded.  Christ’s Church exists to make saints: to help us to be like God according to His terms.  Avoid sin as much as possible.  But even if you fall, even if it’s a serious fall or numerous falls, keep striving for holiness and returning to God for His mercy to give you a fresh start.]
    May all of us recognize that the saints were not perfect people (except the sinless, ever-virgin Mary).  But they were perfected people, who allowed the grace of God to strengthen them when they stood, and heal them when they fell.  May we recognize that holiness is possible for each one of us, and we can all accept the gift of eternal life in heaven, as long as we commit ourselves to doing our best, each day, to reject sin and open ourselves to the grace of God: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Doing All Things Well

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  As a perfectionist, I would likely love to hear people say about me: “He has done all things well.”  Generally speaking, I think I try to do all things well.  
    Of course, as far as I know, I haven’t been able to make the deaf hear and the mute speak, which is why the crowds praised the Lord.  But did the Lord doing things well because of the physical miracle that He worked?  Or could we see something deeper in the reality that He did things well?
    At the end of the day, what the Lord did well entailed following God’s will.  Yes, this happened in the macro scale, of proclaiming the Gospel and going towards the offering of His life for our salvation.  St. Paul references this in the epistle as he gives the heart of the kerygma.  The Apostle reminds us that Christ died for our sins, was buried, rose on the third day, and then appeared to the Apostles and many disciples, and lastly to St. Paul himself.
    But it also happened in the day-to-day moments, like the one in the Gospel today with the healing.  The first thing to note is that Christ was not in Jewish territory.  He was in the Decapolis, which was pagan territory.  Yes, He was passing through, but the will of God led Him to foreign lands, not just Jewish territory.  And this pagan land the crowds brought Him the deaf and mute man, no doubt having heard about some of the wonders that Christ had done.
    Following God’s will also included being very earthy.  It wasn’t as if the Savior simply said, as He did other times, “I do will it,” and then heal the malady.  In accord with the will of God Christ puts His fingers into the man’s ears, spits, touches the man’s tongue, groans, and says “Ephpheta,” which means “be opened.”  If you had to go me putting my fingers in your ears, spitting, and touching your tongue for Extreme Unction, it probably would be even rarer than it is used today.  But that’s what God wanted our Lord to do (and, to be clear, I don’t do that for Extreme Unction).  Beyond the actual touch, it concerned the day-to-day aspects of life, not a sanitized ideal of life that doesn’t connect to the world in which we live.
    So for us, doing all things well means simply following God’s will, not just in the overarching themes of our lives, but in the day-to-day realities of our lives.  On the one hand, we should be seeking God’s will for our major decisions.  Does God want me to be a priest, a religious sister, or married?  Does God want me to study for this diocese or that, or should I join this religious order or the other one, or should I marry this person or that one?  How do I make a gift of my life to the Lord who has given me everything?
    On the other hand, God’s will often manifests itself in quotidian ways.  Does God want me to stay up late the night before Mass and spend that time with friends?  How will that affect my ability to pray and concentrate during Mass?  Which way do I take for my drive to work?  How do I greet the first co-worker I see?  When my child asks to play after I get home from work and am exhausted, can I give what little I have left, or would it be better to take a little break so that I don’t snap out of fatigue?  

    Those are all ways that we can open ourselves to God’s will and do things well.  And that’s the way we become a saint.  I think we can often feel like being a saint happen simply by choosing the right vocation, or by doing something great for God.  But what did St. Thérèse, the Little Flower, teach us?  What makes a difference is not so much doing great things, but doing little things with great love.  When we make even our small choices based upon a great love for doing what God wants, we do things well, and allow God to perfect us by His grace.  Certainly, we still need to make sure that we are seeking God’s will through prayer and counsel as we discern to what vocation God calls us.  But it can be so easy to write God off in those smaller moments of the day, and He wants to be involved in our life in those ways, too.
    So this week, think of ways that you can open yourself to the will of God.  Do you pray each day that God make His will clear to you?  When you pray the Our Father, perhaps really slow down at the phrase, “Thy will be done.”  We can, like Christ, do things well when we allow God to work through us, even when it doesn’t come naturally to us or we’re put in situations that seem a bit foreign.  May others see the grace of God at work in our lives, and observe that we have done all things well.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.