I want you to take a moment and in your head list as many saints as you can. If you need some help you can look at today’s bulletin and the Litany of Saints we prayed at the beginning of the liturgy but remember, that litany is not exhaustive. As we heard in our first reading (Revelation 7:9-17) the saints are “a great multitude that no one [can] count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.” It seems that saints can be anyone from anywhere.

So, are you ready? Start listing. 

Okay, you got them? How many did you name? Who are they? What makes them saints? Is it the strength of their faith? Did they perform miracles? Maybe it was their work for justice and peace, or caring for those in need? Perhaps it was the depth of their prayer. Maybe it was their suffering and martyrdom. Who and what is a saint for you?

How many of you named yourself? Any one? No one.

I’m not surprised you didn’t name yourselves as a saint. I think we tend to see the saints not only as someone but also something other than ourselves. They are God’s overachievers, the superheroes of the kingdom, perfectionists who really are perfect. 

We often separate the saints from ourselves. They are the ones who, when we were kids, ran faster and jumped higher than us. Even the Church promotes that kind of hierarchy and meritocracy. We have All Saints’ Day for the really good people and we have All Souls’ Day for the rest of us. 

But what if sainthood isn’t about running faster or jumping higher? What if it’s not a promotion from soul to saint? What if it’s not about being a kingdom superhero or an overachiever for God? Maybe it’s simply showing up to and living as fully and authentically as we can the great ordeal of life. 

Here’s why I say that. In today’s first reading the “great multitude that no one [can] count” is described as those “who have come out of the great ordeal.”

You know what that’s like, don’t you? Haven’t you been through great ordeals? I have. 

I’ve been through the great ordeals of a divorce, my older son’s death, May 24th in Uvalde. I’ve been through the great ordeal of leaving my law practice to go to seminary. I’ve been through the great ordeal of falling in love with and committing myself to Cyndy. I’ve been through the great ordeal of struggling with God and my faith. I’ve been through the great ordeal of my failures, disappointments, regrets, and guilt. I’ve been through the great ordeal of making amends and getting my life back on track. I’ve been through the great ordeal of finding meaning, purpose, and wholeness. I’ve been through the great ordeal of wrestling with who I want to be and how I want to live. 

I suspect you been through similar great ordeals. Those and a thousand other things like them are the great ordeals of my life. They aren’t just ordeals I’ve been through. They are ordeals I am continuing to go through. Life itself is the great ordeal. The great ordeal is never compete but ever in process. 

What about you? What are the great ordeals you’ve been through? What are the great ordeals you are continuing to go through?

The great ordeals I’m talking about are more than just challenging, difficult, or painful times though they often are those things too. They are the invitations to grow up and take responsibility for our lives. They call us forward and ask us to clarify our priorities, values, and what really matters. They teach us about ourselves and show us what we need, desire, and long for. The great ordeals enlarge our lives, soften our hearts, and open our eyes. 

The great ordeals are not events but an ongoing process of becoming who and what we most truly are. They are a call into the fullness of our life. They happen in relation with others and connect us to something larger than and beyond ourselves. 

I wonder what that means and looks like for you today. What is the great ordeal of life offering you, asking of you, calling you to? And what if that’s your sainthood?

The saints are not perfectionists, superheroes, or overachievers. They are ones who live the great ordeal of life to become more fully themselves. They are true to themselves and who God has called them to be and in so doing they discover gifts, passions, values, strengths, opportunities by which they offer themselves to others and the world. 

They don’t run from their own lives and they don’t compare, compete, or try to be someone else. And isn’t that what you really want? Don’t you want to be fully yourself, comfortable in your own skin, at home with yourself? That’s not just for your benefit. That’s for the life of the world. 

I think that’s what we see in the saints but it’s never easy and it’s often painful. Becoming more fully ourselves may just be the greatest ordeal of life. But it’s the only way in which we find meaning and wholeness. It’s how we deepen our relationships with others. It’s the only thing by which we can measure or judge our lives. That is so beautifully illustrated in the life of Rabbi Zusha (1718–1800).

When Rabbi Zusha was on his deathbed, his students found him in uncontrollable tears. They tried to comfort him by telling him that he was almost as wise as Moses and as kind as Abraham, so he was sure to be judged positively in Heaven. He replied, "When I pass from this world and appear before the Heavenly Tribunal, they won't ask me, 'Zusha, why weren't you as wise as Moses or as kind as Abraham?' rather, they will ask me, 'Zusha, why weren't you Zusha?'" (source)

Why are you not you? That’s the question the saints hold before us today. They surround us with their presence, prayers, guidance, and encouragement to become, not like them, but more like ourselves. 

What would it be like to become more yourself? What gets in the way? What would help? What would it take to be a bit more fully yourself? How might you add to the life of the world?

We are part of “a great multitude that no one [can] count” and yet, each one of us counts. Let’s not count ourselves out.

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Image Credit: By Fra Angelico – Own work Sailko Taken on 1 March 2017, CC BY 3.0, Wikimedia Commons.