One of the billions of things I love about being Catholic is the close relationship that we have with the Christians who have gone before us. We call them saints. I have no idea what the exact number is, but I can tell you for sure, we have a LOT of them. They are people who we look up to - those who have lived in the same sin-filled world that we do now, but, unlike most of us, have chosen to love radically. Sinners who never stopped fighting their sins. Their stories are incredible. I have yet to encounter a saint who I couldn’t automatically add to the list of people that I desperately want to be like.
Fun Catholic Fact of the Day:
We don’t pray to saints. We ask them to pray for us, just like we ask each other to intercede here on earth. Ask me about it sometime. (:
Anyways. Why am I rambling about all of this?
Because I want to be holy. Basically. I want to be set apart – pure and righteous in the eyes of my God and in the eyes of the world for His sake. The saints are people who did what they had to do to be holy, and I look to them (along with the Sacred Scriptures and Traditions of the Church) to learn how to walk where they walked in faith.
I was thinking about martyrs. There have been countless Christian martyrs. St. Maria Goretti – who was stabbed to death by a man who would have stolen her innocence had she not fought him so strongly. St. Isaac Jogues – a Catholic priest who evangelized Native American tribes in the 1600’s. He was captured and tortured (including his fingers being bitten off), escaped, and went back to continue sharing the light of Christ. His witness as he was killed converted many. St. Maximilian Kolbe – who voluntarily took the place of a man who was condemned to starve to death in Auschwitz. St. Cecilia – who sang praises to our God as her murderers attempted three times to cut off her head. She lived, in agony, for three days, and when her incorruptible body was found long after her death, they saw that on one hand she had three fingers outstretched and on the other hand just one finger, denoting her belief in the trinity. So many more – all my heroes.
I would like to think I would give my life for my faith, if put to the test.
Then again, we probably all would.
The truth is that chances are pretty slim that I will ever get the opportunity to find out.
Good news though. That doesn’t mean I don’t get to die for what I believe. See, there are a million little choices that I get to make every day. Not just in action, but also in my heart. I believe that you aren’t truly living unless you’re dying – to yourself – every day. Dying to my desires – those basic human desires that would have me taking the easy road, the prideful road, the sinful road, in a million ways. Putting others first. Trusting God. Giving Him everything. To give means to let go. You can’t give something away if your hand is still holding it. If we want to be holy – to truly live for God – we have to be willing to sacrifice. If you show me a Christian who thinks he can love God without sacrifice, I’ll show you a Christian who has totally missed the point. Love is sacrifice. Check out the Cross.
Now, it’s all well and good for me to contemplate this and type it up on my fancy-schmancy blog. It would be fabulous if that meant I was practicing all of it. Unfortunately, just because I get it doesn’t quite mean I live it. I’m a sin addict just like every other human being out there. It just means that I’m really aware that, if I want to truly be His, I’ve got to pray when I don’t feel like praying, love when I don’t feel like loving, and serve when I don’t feel like serving. If I’m really, really lucky, no one will notice any of it so my pride will not take over the universe. On that note, I didn’t type this up so everyone could tell me how insightful I am. Honestly, considering that sacrifice has been the heartbeat of my Church for like, 2011 years already, it’s not like it’s anything new. I’m just voicing what’s been on my mind today.
Jesus, teach me to die so that I will know how to live.
Jesus, teach me to love.
