The Feast of All Saints

The Feast of All Saints:

Having been raised Presbyterian, I encountered the concept of saints fairly late -- initially just as honorifics associated with certain people who had either known Jesus directly (St. Mark, St. Luke, St. John, etc.), or people who were important thinkers about the nature of God (St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, etc).

I learned about other ways that people became saints later in boyhood, though still within the context of a church that didn't really believe in the idea of saints in Catholic terms. Still, I learned that some saints had become saints by overseeing the baptism of many people -- for example, St. Vladimir, St. Edwin of Northumbria, and St. Olaf. Others became saints by allowing themselves to become martyrs for the faith -- including the patron saints of England and Scotland. The one is St. George, about whom not very much beyond martyrdom can safely be said; the other is St. Andrew, who also qualified as an Apostle and one who was close to Jesus in his lifetime. (Most confusing of all is St. Michael, for whom the title almost seems like a demotion.)

The idea of martyrs didn't make much sense to me as a boy. I think that is unusual: I gather what normally doesn't make sense to people are the St. Olafs and St. Edwins, who achieved their sainthood by the sword. For someone raised in the Appalachian Scots-Irish tradition, that part made perfect sense. For that matter, there was no trouble about understanding -- since we were just talking about The Alamo, below -- martyrs who went down fighting. Of course those are heroes of the faith!

The idea that my boyhood self found confusing was that of martyrs who went placidly to their deaths. I think I understood that the idea was that this behavior was in emulation of Jesus himself; but (as I recall my childhood thoughts) the point of Jesus doing it was so that the rest of us didn't have to. I was under the impression that Jesus hadn't wanted us to emulate him in that particular way; and furthermore, I reasoned later in life, hadn't he told his disciples to arm themselves with swords precisely to avoid being martyred with him?

By the same token, however, Jesus' remarks when the sword is used to defend him are interesting. There are two versions, one clear and the other unclear. In Luke, the followers ask if they should strike with their swords, and one does; Jesus says, "No more of this," heals the would given, and goes off with his captors. In Matthew, Jesus rebukes the disciple who strikes directly, saying that all will die with the sword who slay with it.

The Matthew version appears to suggest that Jesus intended to license self-defense and defense of the human community from physical dangers; but not the use of the sword to protect him personally. By extension, the suggestion is that he would not approve of war for religion -- whether Crusades or conquests of the type St. Olaf led.

The Luke version is unclear; we are left as mystified as his own followers about whether to use the swords or not, in general terms. We just know that he wanted us to have them, but thought the one blow given in his defense was enough -- or was irrelevant to his purpose.

In any case, martyrs have been from the earliest days among the most beloved and venerated of saints. What was puzzling to me as a boy was natural and obvious to very many others.

The idea of having a day for celebrating all the saints. It's a good reminder that the tradition contains many people who have contributed to the faith in different ways. Some of these ways are puzzling -- martyrdom to me, sword-bearing to others -- but we have a certain debt to each of them. It is wise to reflect on that.

UPDATE: Martyrs are made today, at a church in Baghdad.