The Witness of Saints

The Reverend Christopher Hogin

The Witness of Saints

Revelation 7: 9-17

The Episcopal Church of the Ascension

November 5, 2017

Saints can be martyrs, pious ones, or confessors. Martyrs often die a violent death as they proclaim the gospel. Stephen was stoned while giving an impassioned plea for the gospel. Ignatius of Antioch was thrown into the Roman coliseum and devoured by lions. The Apostle Peter was crucified upside down. The Apostle Paul was beheaded under the decree of the Roman emperor Nero. These saints lived and died for the gospel.

Pious ones are saints who sometimes assume a vow of poverty dedicating their lives to the poor and unwanted, such as St. Francis of Assisi or Mother Teresa.

Then there are the confessors. The confessors are not persecuted or killed for their faith, but they nonetheless endure a great deal of suffering. As their body grows weaker, their faith grows stronger.

I stumbled across a confessor saint this week, one I’d never heard before. Her name is Antoinette Meo. She lived in Rome from 1930 to 1937, dying at the age of six. She is one of the youngest saints canonized in The Roman Catholic Church. The picture of Saint Antoinette Meo is stunning. There is something truly mystical about her.

  She was from an upper middle class family in Rome, Italy. A popular little girl, she made friends easily. Her teachers said she possessed a joyful sense of humor and personality. Sometimes after mass, she was heard saying, “Jesus, come play with me on the playground.”

At age five, she was diagnosed with bone cancer. Her leg was amputated, and she was fitted with a bulky, uncomfortable artificial limb. Nonetheless, she played with other children and endured. Her affliction caused a great deal of pain, but she responded with a sense of mysticism, and began writing letters to Jesus. Here are some of the excerpts:

"Dear baby Jesus, you are holy, you are good. Help me. Grant me your grace and give me back my leg. If you don't want to, then may your will be done." Here’s another one: “Do with me what you want. Help me with your grace. Without your grace, I am nothing. Pain is like fabric, the stronger it is, the more it's worth."

She continued writing to Jesus, even a few days before her death. In one of her last letters, she often stopped due to excessive vomiting. Nonetheless, she persisted asking Jesus to take care of those she loved, and strength to bear the pain. She closed the letter with the words, “your little girl sends you lots of kisses.” Before her death she told her mother not to cry, because she will not suffer anymore. Later, Antoinette’s mother experienced a vision of Antoinette in heaven completely healed and made whole.  

Saints remain somewhat of a mystery. However, our reading in Revelation indicates that saints come into our lives as witnesses. God uses them to reaches out to humanity amidst the messiness and suffering of this world. They are, as John writes in Revelation, the ones who have come out of the great ordeal.

“Come out of the great ordeal.” I like that line. To me that line communicates how, despite our intense suffering, we do come out of the great ordeal (this broken world) healed through God’s gift of grace and salvation. Saints give us hope. Maybe if anointed martyred saints can stand up for what they believe in, despite the threat of torture and death, maybe we can have more courage in this life. Maybe if pious saint can selflessly give to others, maybe we can too. And maybe if a little girl can increase her faith, despite a body racked with pain from cancer, maybe we too can endure whatever pain we are going through: physical, mental, or spiritual. I’m not saying we must reach the same heroic heights as saints, but maybe we can do better. Maybe saints motivate us to be stronger, have more faith, and more trust in God.

Finally, as we celebrate All Saints Day, may we not forget All Soul’s Day. All Soul’s Day helps us connect with those we’ve lost, but still love. All Soul’s Day gives us a chance of remembering and reflecting. When someone dies, it’s not just the person who dies, a part of us dies as well. It’s a form of spiritual amputation. Just as an amputee still feels pain after removal of a limb, we also feel the pain after our loved one is no longer with us. Thankfully, God gives us a gift of ritual and celebration through All Souls Day. Rituals and celebration remains vitally important, as it helps and us remain connected and bonded with those we love.

I was struck by the power of ritual while living in Washington, DC. One of the park rangers told me about a time he encountered a woman leaning against the Vietnam War Memorial. Her hand was pressed against a name on the etched black marble. She smoked a cigarette. The ranger approached her and said, “Ma’am, there’s no smoking here.” She looked at him with red swollen eyes and replied, “Sorry. I just wanted to smoke one last cigarette with my husband. He died 40 years ago today in Vietnam.” The ranger replied, “Carry on Ma’am”.

Forty years and the woman still mourns. That doesn’t surprise me. We never really get over those we’ve loved and lost do we? We just learn to cope just like those who learn to walk even though they have an injured leg. Grief has no expiration date. It often follows us around like a shadow trailing behind on a bright day of sunshine.

Thank God for All Saints and All Soul’s Day. Thank God we have a church that calls us to remember those we love, but have lost. Thank God for all the saints: the martyrs, pious ones, and confessors, those who motivate us to continue moving onward in this world, so that we too may come out of this great ordeal as we learn to better envelop ourselves in God’s power, love, and most importantly, God’s healing grace. 

                                                                                                            Amen