A Great Cloud of Witnesses

Who are the saints? Are they those shadowy figures from a distant past, the ones depicted with glowing haloes in medieval paintings and Orthodox icons? Are they the ones officially declared as saints by the Roman Catholic Church, or the ones deemed worthy by the Episcopal Church of inclusion in Holy Women, Holy Men? Who are they, and why should we even think about them? When we have any number of sports heroes and headline-grabbing celebrities, why do we even need saints?

In 1373 in Norwich, England, a thirty-year old woman lay mortally ill. The parish priest placed a crucifix on her chest. All of a sudden she had an intense vision of Jesus on the cross. She immediately began to recover. As she recovered she had more visions. She decided to dedicate her life to trying to understand the gift that God had given her. By her own request, and with the permission of her bishop, she was enclosed in a small room on the side of the Church of St. Julian. The room had a window and a small door that led into the church, through which she could hear mass and receive communion. It also had a small window that face the churchyard, through which she could offer spiritual direction to others. With the help of a monk, she wrote up brief versions of her initial visions. She continued to meditate on her visions, and at some point wrote longer, more detailed versions of them. It is thought that she died about 1415 and may be buried near the church where she lived.

We don’t know much about Julian of Norwich, as she came to be called. We ourselves may not feel called to lead an anchorite’s life, as Julian and others like her felt called to do. But we can still read Julian’s book, either in the 15th century English in which she wrote or in modern English. Through Julian’s colorful and detailed visions, we get a glimpse of the reality of the Trinity, and we learn the importance of single-minded devotion to God. We come to know Jesus as our loving Mother, and we realize that we are first and foremost God’s most beloved children. We discover – if we don’t already know it – that we may – and do – sin, but, broken, dusty, and lost as we may be, we can never lose God’s love.

A century after Julian’s death, a thirty-nine year unhappy Spanish Carmelite sister also looked at a crucifix. Immediately she felt disgusted at how idly she and her fellow sisters lived and at how dull and lackadaisical their spiritual lives had become. She vowed to devote herself more seriously to a life of prayer. She then almost instantly had a deep sense of God’s love, almost lighting her up and transforming her from deep within her soul. She decided to found a new reformed community of Carmelite nuns, who would live simply, on alms and the work of their own hands, and maintain a rigorous rule of prayer. She went on to found sixteen other communities in Spain. As her prayer life continued to deepen, she had many other mystical experiences. In an age when few women wrote, she instructed her fellow sisters in the journey towards union with God in a book titled in English The Interior Castle. She also wrote an autobiography, and left a collection of mystical poetry.

We may not feel called to follow Teresa of Avila into a Carmelite convent. The Interior Castle is not easy reading. Nevertheless Teresa also has much to teach us. She stresses our need to know ourselves, both our strengths and our weaknesses. She reassures us that God is always with us. Consequently, she also emphasizes the importance of regular disciplines of prayer, even as she assures us that, “Prayer … is nothing but friendly intercourse, and frequent solitary converse, with Him who we know loves us.” Most important, Teresa also gently reminds us that attention to prayer and service of others are not mutually exclusive. Rather, prayer and service are integral to each other. All prayer must eventually lead to good works, Teresa tells us, while our service of others must be grounded in our prayer. Ultimately, we are called to be both mystics and prophets.

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove knows well the fundamental connection between prayer and service of others. Not long ago, padding around the first floor of his house on a cold, dark night, he heard feet shuffling at his door and an insistent knock.1 Jonathan lives with his family in Walltown, a neighborhood in west Durham, North Carolina, in an intentional community called Rutba House. The house is named after a place in Iraq, where Jonathan and his wife had experienced hospitality while traveling as witnesses for peace. The front door knocker is engraved with the words, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” For the last ten years, Rutba House has been offering hospitality to all comers. Some stay for a few days, some move in virtually permanently. Some were once homeless. Some are fleeing abusive partners, some come straight from prison, and some are suffering from PTSD. Some are former drug addicts seeking a fresh start.

Sometimes Jonathan and his family get discouraged. They know they can’t help all in need. They know that some take their hospitality and their spare change and go out for another fix or another drink. As he listened to the knocking Jonathan knew that it could be Jesus knocking. It could also be drunken Greg, or Larry trying to sell him a stolen toaster, or Patrice wanting respite from her loudmouth husband. He knew that sometimes miracles happen, but sometimes they don’t. Ten years’ worth of stories flashed through his mind as he stood in his kitchen waiting. Another knock. He thought, “Is this Jesus, a guide from beyond, come to save me, however inconvenient his timing may be? Or is it the beginning of another long night in the ER?” He went to the door. He went to the door, he says, “because the Jesus I want to know is the Jesus who comes knocking at midnight, bringing his tired and homeless friends with him.”

A little after midnight, about four years ago, Steve Stone, the pastor of Heartsong Church in Cordova, Tennessee, received a telephone call from a group of Muslims in Kashmir, Pakistan.2 They had been watching CNN when a story about Heartsong Church aired. They were dumbfounded at what they saw. Pastor Stone had discovered that the Memphis Islamic Center had bought land next door to the church. Did he rush to the city council and protest the plans for an Islamic Center next door, as pastors in other cities had done? No. Pastor Stone put up a large red sign in front of his church that read, “Heartsong Church Welcomes Memphis Islamic Center to the Neighborhood.” The local Muslim leaders were astounded. They had hoped that their coming might be ignored. They never ever thought that they might be welcomed. They met with Pastor Stone. The two communities came to know each other. Children began to play with each other, and adults shared meals. They talked about their respective faiths with each other. While the Islamic Center was under construction, Heartsong allowed the Muslims to hold Ramadan prayer services in their sanctuary. They began to plan joint ministries to feed the homeless and tutor local children.

CNN picked up the story. The cooperation and mutual respect demonstrated by the two faith communities stood in sharp contrast to the controversy around the so-called “Ground Zero mosque” and the threatened burnings of the Qur’an that were dominating the news. As the Pakistani Muslims heard the CNN story, one man said, “I think God is speaking to us through this man.” Another man went right to the little Christian church near their mosque and proceeded to clean it, both inside and out with his own hands.

Who are the saints? They are Julian and other mystics. They are Teresa and others who have sought union with God through contemplative prayer. They are Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and all those who extend the hand of hospitality to those on the margins of polite society. They are Steve Stone and all those who take seriously Jesus’ command to love our neighbors as ourselves. They are all those who know themselves beloved by God and who strive to make God’s love real in the world. They are all those who inspire us and model for us the many ways of following Jesus.

As baptized members of Christ’s Body, we too are called to follow Jesus. We too are called to holy living. We too are called to prayer and holy silence. We too are called to welcome the stranger. We too are called to share God’s love with all our neighbors.

Almighty God, you have surrounded us with a great cloud of witnesses: Grant that we, encouraged by the good examples of all your servants, may persevere in running the race that is set before us, until at last we may with them attain to your eternal joy; through Jesus Christ, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

1. “School for Conversion,” October 18, 2013.
2. Jim Wallis, On God's Side, (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos, 2013), 138-9.