How NOT to Become a Saint

This little saying was shared recently on the Facebook page of a parish that shall remain nameless:

The saints were saints because
they were cheerful when it was difficult to be cheerful,
patient when it was difficult to be patient,
silent when they wanted to speak, and
agreeable when they felt an urge to scream.
They pushed forward when they wanted to stand still.

Last I checked the post had 17 likes and loves (all but one of them from women), and not a single negative reaction.

Oh dear. Friends, this is not good spiritual advice. This is contemporary Pelagianism on display, which Pope Francis has been warning us about frequently as of late. It’s a heresy. But rather than focus on theological jargon, let’s compare this bit of parochial advice with Pope Francis’s recent exhortation about attaining to sanctity, Gaudete et exsultate.

“The saints were saints because they were cheerful when it was difficult to be cheerful…”

True enough, Gaudete itself means “rejoice,” and the exhortation identifies Christian joy and a sense of humor as signs of holiness. But first it meditates on the verse, “Blessed are those who mourn”:

The world has no desire to mourn; it would rather disregard painful situations, cover them up or hide them. Much energy is expended on fleeing from situations of suffering in the belief that reality can be concealed. But the cross can never be absent.

A person who sees things as they truly are and sympathizes with pain and sorrow is capable of touching life’s depths and finding authentic happiness. He or she is consoled, not by the world but by Jesus. Such persons are unafraid to share in the suffering of others; they do not flee from painful situations. They discover the meaning of life by coming to the aid of those who suffer, understanding their anguish and bringing relief. They sense that the other is flesh of our flesh, and are not afraid to draw near, even to touch their wounds. They feel compassion for others in such a way that all distance vanishes. In this way they can embrace Saint Paul’s exhortation: “Weep with those who weep” (Rom 12:15).

Knowing how to mourn with others: that is holiness.

Perhaps the author of this statement (apparently a mid-20th century American priest) did not mean to negate the truth that there is a season for everything, for both cheerfulness and sorrow. Perhaps “when it is hard to be cheerful” was meant to refer to times when our own needs and desires are not met. (Pope Francis says when we focus on these, “we condemn ourselves to a joyless existence.”) Perhaps the author did not mean to discount the role of the dark night of the soul in the lives of many saints, who did not always exude a cheerfulness in the midst of their dark interior state as Saint Teresa of Calcutta famously managed to do. But the problem of this first statement goes much deeper than suggesting that cheerfulness might be a primary and ubiquitous aspect of sanctity, as the next phrase reveals.

The saints were saints because… they were patient when it was difficult to be patient.

Patience is always and everywhere a virtue, and Gaudete lists “perseverance, patience, and meekness” as the first set of “signs of holiness in today’s world.” The problem here is the word “because.” Patience isn’t a cause of sanctity. It is a sign of sanctity, and a fruit of the Holy Spirit. This fundamental confusion of cause and effect is the primary indicator that we’re looking at Pelagian instead of true Christian advice.

Pope Francis defines Pelagians and semi-Pelagians as those who attribute what makes us saints “to the human will, to personal effort.” They are the people who forget that “everything ‘depends not on human will or exertion, but on God who shows mercy’ (Rom 9:16) and that ‘he first loved us’ (cf. 1 Jn 4:19).” Francis further explains:

Those who yield to this pelagian or semi-pelagian mindset, even though they speak warmly of God’s grace, “ultimately trust only in their own powers and feel superior to others because they observe certain rules or remain intransigently faithful to a particular Catholic style”. When some of them tell the weak that all things can be accomplished with God’s grace, deep down they tend to give the idea that all things are possible by the human will, as if it were something pure, perfect, all-powerful, to which grace is then added. They fail to realize that “not everyone can do everything,” and that in this life human weaknesses are not healed completely and once for all by grace.

Pelagianism isn’t just a mistaken belief about the cause of sanctity; it can ultimately block grace and impede sanctity! “Ultimately, the lack of a heartfelt and prayerful acknowledgment of our limitations prevents grace from working more effectively within us, for no room is left for bringing about the potential good that is part of a sincere and genuine journey of growth.”

Sadly, Pelagianism has become quite prevalent in bourgeois Catholic circles. Achievement of sanctity is treated as a commodified process, like a diet and exercise regime. There are even “Catholic Planners” for sale that purport to help people define and track their “progress” on their “path to sainthood,” and I’ve been seeing the phrase “sainthood or bust” starting to pop up in different places on Catholic Twitter. But Pope Francis warns us clearly that these plans will backfire:

Still, some Christians insist on taking another path, that of justification by their own efforts, the worship of the human will and their own abilities. The result is a self-centred and elitist complacency, bereft of true love. This finds expression in a variety of apparently unconnected ways of thinking and acting: an obsession with the law, an absorption with social and political advantages, a punctilious concern for the Church’s liturgy, doctrine and prestige, a vanity about the ability to manage practical matters, and an excessive concern with programmes of self-help and personal fulfilment. Some Christians spend their time and energy on these things, rather than letting themselves be led by the Spirit in the way of love, rather than being passionate about communicating the beauty and the joy of the Gospel and seeking out the lost among the immense crowds that thirst for Christ.

Pope Francis provides a simple prescription for breaking out of the grace-sabotaging Pelagian mindset: “we do well to keep reminding ourselves that there is a hierarchy of virtues that bids us seek what is essential. The primacy belongs to the theological virtues, which have God as their object and motive. At the centre is charity.” Not cheerfulness, not patience, but love for our neighbor. “Saint Paul says that what truly counts is ‘faith working through love’ (Gal 5:6). ‘The one who loves another has fulfilled the law… for love is the fulfilment of the law’ (Rom 13:8,10).”

Silent when they wanted to speak, and agreeable when they felt an urge to scream.

Speaking of the urge to scream, this part of the quote certainly provokes such an urge in me! If there were a list of the top 100 attributes of saints, silence when there is reason to speak or scream surely would not be among them. Gaudete urges silence only temporarily for the purpose of contemplation, and also agrees with Thumper’s mother: “saints do not waste energy complaining about the failings of others; they can hold their tongue before the faults of their brothers and sisters, and avoid the verbal violence that demeans and mistreats others.”

But real saints are frequently prompted by the Holy Spirit to speak out, and to vigorously disagree with the powerful and the routine. St. Catherine of Siena, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. John Chrysostom, St. Thomas More… I could literally go on all day and night naming saints who spoke out boldly. I cannot think of a single saint who is revered for holding their tongue. This isn’t heresy—a corruption of truth—this is utterly baseless nonsense.

Or even worse: who gives this kind of advice? Taken as a whole, this is how someone with authority would advise those subject to him to act in order that he would never be bothered with insubordination. Further, it rather sounds like advice that a spiritual abuser would use to groom his target: don’t complain, put on a cheerful face when your instinct makes you want to scream. That’s how you’ll get to Heaven, my dear. Bear the suffering I inflict with patience and silence and keep doing what I tell you to do. If you resist, if you blow the whistle, no one will believe you, and you will damn yourself…

We should be horrified but not surprised to see Catholic churches today doling out “spiritual advice” that enables abusers. For all the commissions and standards that have been put in place over the past 15 years to try to prevent sexual abuse of children in church-sponsored settings, the Catholic Church is just now in recent months beginning to acknowledge the sexual abuse that powerful clerics have inflicted on adults who are under their authority or influence. The code of silence and clerical deference that enables abuse of many kinds has been deeply entrenched in our culture, inside and outside the Catholic Church. Speaking up against abusers and false teachers is a dangerous and prophetic act that is worthy of saints.

They pushed forward when they wanted to stand still.

Like cheerfulness, pushing forward against inertia certainly has ample time and place in the virtuous life. But standing still at times is vitally important as well. Pope Francis teaches us that saints are in constant prayer, and while praying in the midst of our work and everyday activities is important,

moments spent alone with God are also necessary…. I would insist that this is true not only for a privileged few, but for all of us, for “we all have need of this silence, filled with the presence of him who is adored”. Trust-filled prayer is a response of a heart open to encountering God face to face, where all is peaceful and the quiet voice of the Lord can be heard in the midst of silence.

In that silence, we can discern, in the light of the Spirit, the paths of holiness to which the Lord is calling us. Otherwise, any decisions we make may only be window-dressing that, rather than exalting the Gospel in our lives, will mask or submerge it. For each disciple, it is essential to spend time with the Master, to listen to his words, and to learn from him always.

In the first paragraph of Gaudete, Pope Francis teaches us that God “wants us to be saints and not to settle for a bland and mediocre existence.” To do so, we must “go against the flow” in the way of the Beatitudes, in poverty of spirit, acknowledging our inability to attain sanctity by our own will and letting grace and the Holy Spirit move us along this counter-cultural path. Let us not fall prey to spiritual corruption:

The path of holiness is a source of peace and joy, given to us by the Spirit. At the same time, it demands that we keep “our lamps lit” (Lk 12:35) and be attentive…. Those who think they commit no grievous sins against God’s law can fall into a state of dull lethargy. Since they see nothing serious to reproach themselves with, they fail to realize that their spiritual life has gradually turned lukewarm. They end up weakened and corrupted.

Spiritual corruption is worse than the fall of a sinner, for it is a comfortable and self-satisfied form of blindness. Everything then appears acceptable: deception, slander, egotism and other subtle forms of self-centredness, for “even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Cor 11:14).

Finally, let us rejoice in true advice from the Holy Father about sanctity:

Do not be afraid to set your sights higher, to allow yourself to be loved and liberated by God. Do not be afraid to let yourself be guided by the Holy Spirit. Holiness does not make you less human, since it is an encounter between your weakness and the power of God’s grace.