Therese of Lisieux wrote, ” All the saints will be indebted to each other…Who knows the joy we shall experience in beholding the glory of the great saints and knowing that by a secret disposition of Providence we have contributed there unto…and do you not think that on their side the great saints, seeing what they owe to quite little souls, will love them with an incomparable love? Delightful and surprising will be the friendships found there–I am sure of it. The favoured companion of an Apostole or a great doctor of the Church will perhaps be a young shepherd lad; and a simple little child may be the intimate friend of a patriarch.”
I wonder, for instance, what sort of interesting conversation the little shepherd lad of Fatima is having with John Paul the Great, or what kind of friendship does Therese of Lisieux have with St Benedict? (If you want to read more about this friendship check out my book, St Benedict and St Therese) What does St Francis, God’s little donkey, have to say to St Thomas Aquinas, God’s dumb ox? What is brainy Edith Stein saying to poor old not-too-clever Joseph of Cupertino?
As I read the life of St Elizabeth all sorts of connections were made. An American who lived in Europe, but was called back to the USA, a parent called to the religious life, a convert from Anglicanism, a teacher and founder of schools. I hope she is praying for me.
St John Neumann, called to the priesthood in Europe, but no bishop would have him, he comes to the USA and winds up as Bishop of Philadelphia. I grew up in his Diocese it turns out. Also involved in education and work with young people, I hope he is praying for me.
This reveals the most amazing thing about Catholicism. It is, on the one hand, the universal church. It’s power and glory spreads into every land, and stands humbly unbowed in every age. It is a community of faith that stretches back 2,000 years, and spans every language, nation and tribe. At the same time, it is a village, a corner shop, a cosy club and a family reunion.
Time and again, amongst the living I have met a new Catholic in a new land or a new place who knows someone I know on the other side of the globe. They’ve read the same book or been to the same place or had the same experience. Do you see the underlying unity in a church where a Polish Pope in Rome embraced an Albanian nun who lived in worked in India? John Paul and Mother Theresa were family.
“What!” we cry with instant recognition, “you too? Why I thought no one else went through that sorrow or experienced that joy!”
“Can it be?” we say with astonisment, “that this child in France a hundred years ago thought these same thoughts and felt these same great emotions? or this hermit in a cave in Egypt sang with the same joy and wept the same tears?
There is no other way of expressing it except to say that our life with the saints is all at once as homely as Bilbo’s eleventy eleventh birthday party and as rapturous as the eternal singing of the stars.