The Saints We Need Series

Title: The Saints We Need

Intro: Authentic sainthood is not about perfection or headline-grabbing miracles.

Scripture: Matthew 5:1-12

Reflection

Dear Friends,

Last year, I watched Father Anthonyswamy stack boxes of canned goods in the pouring rain. His small rural church had organised a food drive for flood victims, and there he was—not just preaching about love from the pulpit, but living it in the mud and chaos. A volunteer turned to me and said, “He is not just our priest; he is our saint.” That simple observation sparked something deep within me: the Church today desperately needs more saints.

But I do not mean the marble statues or stained-glass heroes we admire from a distance. I mean ordinary people choosing to live extraordinary lives of faith right where they are. The grandmother praying her rosary for wayward grandchildren. The teenager is volunteering at the homeless shelter instead of scrolling through social media. The single mother working two jobs who still finds time to teach Sunday school because “these kids need to know God loves them.”

We have made sainthood feel impossibly distant, like it belongs only to Francis giving away his fortune or Teresa lost in mystical prayer. But authentic sainthood is not about perfection or headline-grabbing miracles. It is about showing up day after day with a heart cracked open to both God and neighbour. It is about making faith tangible in the beautiful mess of everyday life.

The Church faces real challenges today. Trust has been shattered by scandals. Pews sit emptier each Sunday, especially of young faces. Our culture pulls us relentlessly toward screens and schedules, away from the quiet spaces where we might encounter the divine. In times like these, saints are not just inspiring—they are essential. They become living bridges between Sunday worship and Monday reality, proving that holiness is not confined to cathedral walls but carried in ordinary hands and hearts.

Look back at the early Church. Those first Christians were not superhuman. They argued, doubted, and stumbled just like us. Yet they had saints among them—not just the famous apostles, but countless unnamed believers who shared their bread, forgave their enemies, and faced persecution with startling courage. Their lived witness lit a fire that transformed the world. We need that same flame today.

Saints emerge not from supernatural gifting but from small, repeated choices made in the hidden corners of life. They are forged in pre-dawn prayer, in choosing patience over anger, in trusting God through heartbreak. I think of Sonia from my parish—exhausted from working two jobs to support her children, yet she still teaches catechism every Wednesday evening. When I asked why, she simply shrugged: “The kids need to know they are loved.” Sonia may not be a theologian or mystic, but her life preaches more powerfully than any sermon.

The beautiful truth is that God creates saints through us, one choice at a time. Every moment we choose love over bitterness, generosity over selfishness, or hope over despair, we are allowing divine grace to shape us. It is not easy work. Life throws curveballs—illness, loss, crushing disappointments. The world constantly tempts us toward comfort, success, and self-protection. Yet saints keep their eyes fixed on something larger, living as if God’s love could actually change everything.

We especially need saints who embody joy—not the shallow happiness peddled by consumer culture, but the deep contentment of knowing we are never truly alone. I remember Tom at the soup kitchen, recently homeless yet serving meals with genuine warmth. “God has got me,” he said with a smile that could light up the room. His faith was not loud or showy, just steady as bedrock. That is what saints do—they shine even in darkness, helping others find their way home.

The world needs witnesses who live the Gospel so authentically that others cannot help but take notice. We need teachers, parents, workers, and friends who demonstrate that faith is not outdated or boring but vibrantly alive and urgently relevant. The remarkable news is that sainthood is available to everyone—not through grand gestures but through small acts done with great love.

Next time you are at Mass, look around carefully. The saints we desperately need might be sitting right beside you—the weary father, the widow clutching her prayer book, even the restless child doodling in the margins of the bulletin. Or perhaps it is you, quietly called to love a little deeper, forgive a little faster, and trust a little more boldly.

The Church does not need more programmes or buildings; it needs more of us saying yes to God’s invitation, one ordinary day at a time. Like Father Anthonyswamy loading boxes in the rain, we are all called to be saints—not someday in the distant future, but right here, right now, in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. The world is waiting for us to begin.

May the heart of Jesus, live in the hearts of all. Amen…