My life with the saints

One of my favorite pastimes in Hawaii is found sitting on the beach in the late afternoon with a good book, preparing to watch the sun set into the depths of the ocean. I think I could do so every day for the rest of my days quite contentedly.

To do so, I always go where the locals go, away from the tourists, where is more peaceful and quiet.

Watching the sun set in this fashion, one can easily see how Saint Francis of Assisi prayed so earnestly surrounded by the works of Creation and how Blessed Damien of Molokai could spend such time in meditation even amongst his many works of charity.

The last two days of my little retreat found me considering those saints whose patronage I have placed myself under, or, perhaps, who have placed me under their patronage.

His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI has described the saints as “a great picture book” in which “the treasures of the Gospel are revealed. They are the shining path which God himself has traced throughout history and is still tracing today” (Vigil with Youth, 20 August 2005). What path, then, is being laid before me in these saints? What do I desire to learn from and imitate in them?
From Saint Francis of Assisi I want to learn how to desire the Cross as deeply as he – the first person to receive the sacred stigmata, the very wounds of the passion - within his own body. I want to embrace the Cross as beautifully and as powerfully as he. I am not yet ready to do so but, by his example and God’s grace, I may one day be able to do so.

From Saint John Bosco I want to learn that joy which comes from a relationship with Christ, that joy that is infectious and leads others to Jesus. I want to learn to minister particularly to the young, to give them courage and hope and to inspire them to live holy lives, lives founded on the merciful love of God.

From Blessed Damien of Molokai I want to learn that selfless dedication to the proclamation of the Gospel and the salvation of souls that led him to work tirelessly for the faith, spending his life completely in its service.

As I sat on the beach pondering the lives of these holy men I also recalled the life of Saint Clare of Assisi, under whose patronage I have also placed myself. But what is, specifically, that I want to learn from this woman of great stature?

In one of my visits to the Daughters of Saint Paul – whose bookstore is just across the street from the Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace – I picked up a book by Sister Ilia Delio, OSF, Clare of Assisi: A Heart Full of Love. Having read a few other books by Sr. Ilia I knew I would enjoy this one (I highly recommend her Franciscan Prayer).

As I read the second chapter of the book – “The Poverty of Being Human” – I was struck especially by these words:

Economic poverty is not difficult to attain. Spiritual poverty, however, can be. It means relinquishing that which we possess to smother the ego or barricade it against the intrusion of others (12).

Those words cut to the core of my heart. That, in short, is what I want to learn from Francis, John and Damien: to relinquish those barricades I have set up to keep others out.

When my father died twenty-three years ago this coming Wednesday, the walls of my heart, as it were, became incredibly thick. When my mother died just two years later the walls grew thicker yet. To use a medieval analogy, it was as if I ascended the central keep, shut the door and raised the drawbridge. I did so as a natural response to the deaths of my parents, so as not to be hurt so badly again; it was an attempt to avoid such deep pain again. It was at that moment that my introversion increased and my extroversion decreased.

Now, in no way do I want to be a extroverted person; I am quite content as I am. But I also know that, to use the words of Rich Mullins sung in “A Place to Stand”:

there’s a lot of love locked up inside me that I’m learning to give
so hold on to my hand, hold on to my hand
I need a place to run to and a place to stand

I must learn to share the love that is indeed within me, the love that I have received from Jesus Christ. To share this love fully, to share it as he intends, I must relinquish those barricades that keep others – save a select few – at a distance.

With Francis, John and Damien I must simply give myself away in loving service to those whom Christ gives me. If I empty myself out then Christ can fill me, and what I give away is no longer be but him. This I must do, and every day I try to learn how to do so a little more.

But, as Sr. Ilia, asks:

How do we come to that place in life where we can transcend our self-concerns and self-centeredness, where we reach out to others instead of reaching out for ourselves, where we are free to lay down our lives if necessary out of love for others (38)?

Yes, how indeed? We can come to that place by following the example of Saint Clare of Assisi. Sr. Ilia sums up her thought in these words: “For Clare, we must gaze daily on the mirror of the cross. In this mirror is the reflection of humanity, what we are and what we are called to be” (38).

In gazing upon the Cross we see ourselves as we are: broken and weak. But we also see what we are called to be: Crucified Love, the love that gives itself freely away without concern for itself. This is the example of Christ and if we are to be united with him this we, too, must do. This is why Saint Paul could say, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).


May I learn well from my heavenly patrons.