I used to have a recurring dream. I don’t have it anymore, but it was uniquely interesting and it reminds me of a change in my understanding the role of the Saints.
I dreamed I entered a beautiful Victorian house. With great attention to detail, this house had been preserved and furnished, but I realized there was a second floor to the house that had been forgotten and overlooked, permitted to enter into a state of disrepair. With a sense of adventure and discovery, I climbed the stairs to the second floor, only to discover the bodies of those who had lived in the house. Their bodies lay on beds in rooms long forgotten. My attention was drawn to items in the room, precious gems and priceless possession they had left behind, all mine for the taking. With a sense of wonder, I analyzed each thing, delighted in each gift, and realized that this was now my inheritance.
I had that same excitement when I began to read the lives of the saints. While the Catholic Church had gone to great lengths to preserve the lives of the saints, I realized that my Protestant heritage had let the “house of the saints” enter a state of disrepair. With a sense of adventure and discovery, I pored over the gems they had left behind, truth that was mine for the taking. With a sense of wonder, I let the saints take me by the hand and show me things I had never seen. With a grateful heart, I embraced their wisdom and witness and realized that these things had become my inheritance.
If it has been awhile since you let one of the saints come into the parlor of your heart, I encourage you to visit your local bookstore or parish library and select a biography. The inheritance is yours for the taking.
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