When I was making my list of saints for Revealed in Life, a certain theme started to emerge—stories concerning identity, the self, and our relationship with the Lord. The saints whom I am going to describe appear to correspond with the readings for Pentecost 13A, as their lives gently reflect that same light.
The prophets urge us to recall our origins. Isaiah says to us: we are dust, formed and blown into existence, and our destiny is to go back to the earth. This is the ground under the feet of those travelling from exile back to their homeland. Listen, says Isaiah, you who are looking for the Lord; consider the rock from which you were cut and the quarry from which you were taken.
A promise is made to Abraham and Sarah concerning a people who are the result of hope and who constitute a renewed Eden emerging from the wilderness. Yet the call does not simply urge us to look back; we are also to raise our eyes towards heaven to recall our position both in the world and in the holy. Although the world is fleeting, as fragile as dust on the wind, God’s faithful love remains and is not shaken.
Simon, the son of Jonah, is mentioned in the narrative. His declaration is based upon a covenant of loyal love. The Church is founded on this rock, is firm and genuine, and its glory does not come from show but from faith put into practice. Peter’s words go beyond being a statement; they constitute an invitation to take action.
The foundation is by no means perfect. Peter will be put to the test beyond his original expectations. In the Gospel according to John, Jesus tells him that he will be led to places which he does not want to go. Nevertheless, Jesus is nearby, and this enables Peter to have the courage to witness. As the psalmist says, ‘Although I walk in danger, you will save my life.’ To follow Jesus is not a way of avoiding vulnerability, but rather a way to remain within it and be supported.
Even though we may have the vulnerability and promise of Jesus, we should take care not to become puffed up. As Paul tells us, all people have a role to fill. ‘Do not regard yourself as more important than you ought to.’ The Church is a body, possessing many gifts but having a single aim. The rock is not uniform, but rather a collection of lives given, a living sacrifice.
As the Church year nears its end, the readings become more intense and profound. If Christ is responsible for building the Church, then who is to say which stones should be included? The parable of the Weeds says: “welcome; do not exclude.” Christ brings everyone together to form a living temple. The true Church is spacious and provides room for those who might be neglected. There is room for all in God’s house.
The Pharisees are always stressing the importance of purity boundaries, and when they come to Jesus they raise objections, asking for miracles even though they have seen the things that he has done. Jesus cautions his disciples regarding the yeast of the Pharisees. The disciples misunderstand what Jesus has said and ask, “Who forgot to pack lunch?” In reply, Jesus smiles dryly and says, “You of little faith,” explaining that pure bread, which is the manna from heaven, can become contaminated by Pharisaic rules.
The Pharisees are concerned with purity, the disciples with the borders of place and culture, and the Canaanite woman crosses those boundaries. Simon is given a new name. Paul tells us that we belong to one another, and the calendar leads us to Bartholomew, Nathanael, and once again Jesus surprises us by choosing them.
Philip says to Nathanael that Jesus of Nazareth is the one. Nathanael asks, ‘Can anything good come from Nazareth?’ Philip’s reply is simply the invitation which we all have: ‘Come and see.’ Jesus then greets Nathanael by calling him truthful and without deceit. ‘How do you know me, Lord?’ asks Nathanael. ‘I saw you under the fig tree,’ answers Jesus. And Nathanael believes.
John 1: 49 “Rabbi, you are the Son of God and the king of Israel.” 50 Jesus replied, “You believe because I told you that I had seen you at the fig tree; you will see still greater things than this.” 51 He also said, “Most truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven opening and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.”
Of interest, Jesus addresses Simon as ‘Cephas,’ the Rock.
The saints featured each week bear witness to the presence of Christ in their lives; just as Jesus did when he asked Peter, they ask us, ‘Who do you trust?’ For faith isn’t merely belief but also a call to action; it can be as simple as offering a word of encouragement or a listening ear. That is what faith actually consists of.
Past Bartholomew, my list of saints includes several interesting people.
The first is Tydfil; she died in Glamorgan, Wales, many years ago because of her faith. The only thing we have about her is the village named after her, Merthyr Tydfil, Tydfil the Martyr. It’s as though the land itself recalls this. Apart from that, we know very little, but we can look at the stone from which she was hewn. Places have a way of forming us, and at times faithful lives, in turn, shape the places.
The man known as Menas, not the cartoon saint from my childhood days, found himself involved in intense debates, in which he condemned Origen and struggled with issues of unity and division. He was condemned and then eventually allowed to return to the Church. His case is a living reflection of Paul’s warning not to think too highly of yourself; although Menas was in error, he was not permanently expelled.
The early Archbishop of Canterbury, Bregwin, is essentially a mystery. There are disagreements concerning land that revolve around his name, but most of the stories about him were composed many centuries afterwards. At that time, legends such as those of Merlin and Robin Hood also began appearing. Bregwin’s bones are buried in the baptistry at Canterbury.
We encounter Monica and Augustine before the Dark Ages. Monica, who is the patron saint of determined mothers, prayed for seventeen years that her son Gus should come to have faith. Augustine, on the other hand, roamed about, always restless and in search of himself, until he composed the Confessions and then became a bishop. Both Monica and Ambrose supported him, but Augustine’s journey stayed entirely his own and was formed by love rather than by control.
A writer states that Augustine’s Confessions go beyond being the account of a young man who enjoyed parties and eventually became a bishop. However, he is known as the patron saint of brewers; his heart was always restive until it achieved peace in God, and here Isaiah’s message to remember the rock is reflected. Augustine looked all over for answers until he realised that knowing oneself means seeking God.
The readings for the week conclude with the beheading of John the Baptist, but in the background is Edwold. Since his brother was a well-known martyr and king, Edwold had decided to give up everything to become a hermit in Dorset; the smallest Church in Dorset, near Cerne, is named after him.
They are part of various places, identities, experiences, and difficulties; my patron, Menas, proves that someone can be in the wrong and yet to live a holy life. Isaiah sings, ‘The steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.’ Bregwin is found in Welsh legend. Monica, that faithful mother, might have told Gus to stop talking after the feast. He then faced the question of who he was, and many gave answers.
Looking back again to Peter, the rock, and the blessings that come from grace. His declaration acts as a call to take action. Though faith is a term, it is also a gift. It begins with a question: Who do people say that I am? Since we are members of Christ’s body, children of the Father, and inheritors of the kingdom, we should ask ourselves: Who are you being called to be?
Breaking Open 