Some of us retired folks adjourn to a local restaurant for coffee and conversation after mass on Tuesday mornings. This week our conversation turned to a member of our parish who has had responsibility for her seriously handicapped sister since childhood. Bridget manages to lead a Bible study and volunteer occasionally in the parish office, but mostly she takes care of her sister. We named others we know who center their lives around loving care of a spouse with Parkinson’s, an autistic child, or an aging parent. As we talked, it struck me that all these people we know are silent saints (in the making.) They are quietly living the Gospel in heroic ways.
Silent Saints All Around
Later I reflected that the spectrum of such silent saints is broad. It includes fathers who work two jobs to enable their wives to stay home with children, mothers who work at a job all day and give conscientious care to husband, children, and home until late into the night. There are nurses who bring a sense of peace and comfort when they enter a hospital room and teachers who can excite children about learning almost anything. I thought, too, of office workers who serve with such joy they make a tiresome place tolerable and seriously ill people I know who brighten the lives of their visitors.
It includes public leaders and professionals who give of their lives. It includes parish priests, consecrated religious, and people who simple volunteer their time out of love for God and others.
Silent saints come in many forms. I am grateful for them.
Nathaniel, the Silent Saint
Today’s Gospel honors such a silent saint. What we know of Nathaniel is in today’s readings. Even that is a bit of a mystery. Jesus saw him under the fig tree. Whatever he saw, it impressed Jesus enough that he called Nathaniel to be a disciple. Nathaniel questions that call. He seeks proof that following Jesus is worth it. Once he figures out, “You are the Son of God,” Nathaniel disappears into discipleship.
We hear of him no more. His name is different in the other Gospels. They call him Bartholomew. Did he go by two names? Or was he so quiet that by the time the Gospels were written down his name was not remembered? We don’t know. We don’t know his eventual fate either. People in Armenia honor him as the founding Apostle for their faith. So do people in a region of India. Did he travel both places? Or, again, did Nathaniel/Bartholomew so fade in the background that people only remembered Jesus?
The important One.
Silent Sainthood is Challenging
A friend recently gave me a copy of a prayer attributed to Mother Theresa of Calcutta’s nuns. It is a prayer to so radiate Christ that people see only Christ in them.
I’ve been praying that prayer. It is challenging me. I want to radiate Christ. But to so radiate Christ that I disappear? I wish I could say I truly want that. But the truth is that sentence sticks in my throat. I can’t say it and be fully honest.
So God and I are having conversation about it. It is Jesus calling me to a deeper discipleship. I question myself: why in the world would I want to be seen and heard when it could be Christ? On one level, the answer isn’t simple. I don’t quite believe I could simply radiate Christ. Then there is the question of what that would look like. I don’t know how to let go of myself completely.
At a deeper level, the struggle is simpler: I am ok with denying myself, but DYING to self, fully surrendering, is scary. What does that look like? What does that mean?
I hesitate.
Following Nathaniel’s Lead
Nathaniel hesitated. But he didn’t go away. He let his doubts be known. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”
Jesus, who is God, knew Nathaniel when he was formed in his mother’s womb. He knew him and knew how to convince him. “Here is a true child of Israel. There is no duplicity in him,” Jesus said when he saw Nathaniel.
Nathaniel was intrigued. He took the bait and questioned back, “How do you know me?”
Jesus replied, “Before Phillip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.”
What did Jesus see? We don’t know. But Nathaniel knew, and it was enough for him to begin his discipleship. “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”
Nathaniel said yes. Jesus welcomed him to cement his discipleship. “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”
His future was determined. As the first reading says, “The wall of the city had twelve courses of stones as its foundation, on which were inscribed the twelve names of the twelve Apostles of the Lamb.”
In the end, as Nathaniel disappeared, he became a foundation for the City of God, the Kingdom of God.
Bridget, you, and I are late in time to be foundation stones, but we are just in time to be needed citizens of the City of God, builders of the Kingdom. There is a place for us.
It is a matter of surrender, of surrender to the God who loves us.
Prayer:
Lord, as I dialogue with You, I am thankful for the silent saints I know. I want to follow their lead. But I hesitate, I question. I know it is a far better thing to die to self, so I not only live as Your disciple, but also let Your life be lived in my life. Why would I hesitate, Lord? You show me reasons, but they seem so foolish when I pray. Yet letting go of ownership, of freedom, of life as I know it, is HARD.
Lord, I see the silent sainthood of others. I see their radiance, their peace, their joy, their love—even though their lives are often hard with much sacrifice. The ones with whom I am friends, I know often in quiet moments they struggle, too. They are silent saints in the making—under construction by you. Lord, help me to appreciate today that I am also under construction by You. I am a not-so-far-along silent saint in the making, too. Let me cooperate with Your grace today, Lord. Lead me, guide me. Bring me a step closer to the surrender that fully lets go and lets God. Amen
