A while ago
I posted on Facebook: ‘Today is the feast of St Denys, patron saint of France.
If you haven’t already had a croissant or pain au chocolat for breakfast, why
not have a baguette for lunch?’
Among the
responses, one friend asked, ‘How old is the idea of a patron saint? Is it in
the Bible?’ – which is a great question, deserving of a fuller answer than I
could give in a comment thread.
No, patron
saints aren’t explicitly referred to in the Bible, though the idea is grounded
in a long history of reflection on passages such as those that describe the
Church on earth being surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses encouraging us
on (Hebrews 12); the martyrs interceding on behalf of the Church on
earth (Revelation 6); and believers on earth being simultaneously
seated with Christ in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2).
But first,
we must take a step back, to consider saints (in general) and martyrs. While
‘saints’ – or, ‘made-holy ones’ – is used in Scripture to describe all
believers, over time the idea of saints (sometimes capital-S ‘Saints’) came to
be used to describe those whose life of faithfulness to the Lord and to his
‘body’ and ‘bride’ the Church, in the face of the particular challenges of
their day, was an example to all of the out-working of holiness - what it looks
like to make visible a spiritual reality. Saints are not super-Christians, but
flawed-and-loved ordinary believers who might be a step ahead on the journey;
those we might look to and be encouraged. They are members of our family tree,
who have a particularly interesting story to be heard.
Martyrs are
those who were put to death for confessing their faith. Some saints are also
martyrs, while other saints died peaceably, or through illness. Not all martyrs
are Saints – this because a key criterion for Saint-hood became the association
with performing miracles. Saints performing miracles is a reminder to the
Church that while not all perform miracles, miracles themselves are an ongoing
expression of – and signpost to - the kingdom of heaven, extended on earth.
Patron
saints, then, are those saints who have
a particular association with:
a city, or
nation - perhaps because they lived there, though perhaps by later adoption;
persons
defined by a common experience, such as profession or malady – perhaps because
the Saint shared that experience, or ministered to someone whose experience it
was;
local
churches or related communities (such as universities or hospitals, both of which
have their roots in monastic traditions) – who often adopt the patron to
identify with their story in some way.
What, then,
might patron saints do or be for?
In Christ,
patron saints are present to us. Not as restless ghosts, but as those whose lives, like ours, are hid in
Christ. Christ is present, by his Spirit, and so those in Christ are present to
one another. My working days begin with prayer in a chapel dedicated to Bede,
in a minster dedicated to Benedict Biscop (patron saint of Sunderland). Often
there are other members of the staff team or congregation present; but even if
not, I am never alone. The stained glass window in front of me, with the city
framed by Benedict Biscop and by Bede, reminds me that, in Christ, our prayer
on earth is joined with theirs in heaven. Indeed, the faithful departed
(whether Saints or saints) who surround us are arguably more faithful members
of the community of prayer than those we see. And their presence connects us to
both our past and our future.
Patron saints
both ground and inspire our faith. Some Christians speak and act as if nothing had happened - or at least,
nothing good - between the end of the book of Acts and today when, thank God,
we have turned up to make things right. The stories of patron saints remind us
that this is a fiction. They keep us from ignorance and arrogance, and also
from the equally damaging fiction that our lives cannot make a difference in
our day. They both ground and inspire us, and we can learn patterns of faithful
living from their faithfulness - and their unfaithfulness too.
Patron
saints intercede for us. Again,
some Christians seem to believe that there is an impenetrable firewall between
earth and heaven. Those who have gone before us are no longer concerned with
earthly matters, being lost in wonder in the presence of God. But this would
only be so if the God in whose presence they stand was utterly egotistic and
uninterested in the world. Being in God’s presence is to share his heart fully.
There are people who have prayed for me every day of my life, and I have no
reason to believe that death will end that care. In addition, when we
understand that God will not destroy the present earth but renew it, that
places dear to us will carry on into eternity, death is no reason to stop
caring for place, or workplace, as well as people. And we can ask them to pray
for us. While some Christians claim we don't need mediators, because we can
speak directly to Jesus, this is no different than asking another living person
to pray for us. Yes, I can pray myself: but sometimes I am too overwhelmed to
pray; and sometimes I am too closely invested in a situation to trust myself to
pray impartially ‘Your will, not mine, be done’.
Christ
has joined our lives together with those of the saints who have gone before us.
May we live out such a life in our day, and then strengthen those who come
after us with our support.
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