Recently, someone challenged me with a pointed question: Why do Catholics still bother with canonizing saints – especially in light of the headlines surrounding Carlo Acutis? It’s a fair question, and one that invites deeper reflection. After all, in an age of media saturation and skepticism, the idea of elevating someone to sainthood can seem quaint or even political.
But the truth is, the practice of recognizing men and women who have died after living lives of heroic virtue is not a modern invention. It stretches back to the earliest days of the Church. From the martyrs of the first centuries to the mystics, missionaries, and everyday witnesses of later generations, the Church has always sought to honor those whose lives radiated the grace of Christ in extraordinary ways. Canonization isn’t about perfection, it’s about transformation. It’s about pointing to real people who, by God’s grace, became living icons of holiness.
For me, his canonization, like that of all saints, isn’t primarily about signaling the direction of the Church or simply honoring someone from the past. It’s about recognizing a life transformed by grace.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: one of the main reasons I love being Catholic isn’t because the Church always gets things right. We know it hasn’t. There have been grave sins, abuse, cover-ups, and moral failures. I didn’t join the Church under the illusion that its members are holier than others. That notion was dispelled long before I converted.
I stay Catholic because, like a hospital, the Church is a place where healing happens. I don’t judge a hospital by the presence of sick people, but by whether some of those people get well. Carlo is one of those who got well. So are the saints. Their lives are signs of what grace can do.
Of course, there’s a degree of politics, culture, and influence involved in which saints are officially recognized. That’s a conversation for another time. But the Church does undertake a rigorous process to discern whether someone has truly lived with heroic virtue. It gives us examples of people whose lives can inspire us.
In this age of influencers, Carlo offers a compelling witness: a young person who took both technology and faith seriously. As my own son turns 15 next month, I find Carlo’s example especially moving. I hope my son can embody some of that same virtue. Honestly, I hope I can too—as I navigate this digital continent we all inhabit.
This weekend I find myself asking for Carlo’s intercession in my own life. That I might be aware—aware that Christ is at work in all I do. That I might see digital media not just as a tool, but as a space of profound opportunity, one that demands wisdom and sanctity. I pray that my words reflect the heart of the gospel, and that I use the tools of this age with prudence, temperance, and fortitude—to speak truth into the places in our world and our Church that still need transformation.
Carlo isn’t the answer to every challenge the Church faces today. But he is a witness—one we can draw strength and inspiration from. And as we confront the real struggles of our time, may we do so with the encouragement and intercession of all the saints, including Carlo. By God’s grace and led by the Holy Spirit, may we face this new day with deeper fidelity to the gospel and a brighter light to shine in the darkness.










