The Fire of Faith: Living in Christian freedom and becoming Saints

Jared Staudt

God’s grace flows through us like a river, washing us and nourishing his divine life in us. His grace flows freely when we let go of the attachments that dam us up, blocking grace’s entry points. If we are distracted by technology and do not make time to pray, are stuck in impurity, or consumed by work, we will miss what’s most important. Those dams not only block the grace from working within us, but they also block it from flowing out to others and becoming a source of light and strength to them.  

I used the common image of water, while the great mystic, St. Catherine of Siena (1347-80), preferred the images of fire and blood. Catherine lived in a tumultuous time, to say the least — the time of the Black Death, the Hundred Years War, and the Avignon Papacy that led to the Great Western Schism. She was an unlikely candidate for God to use as his agent for change in the Church and society: a young woman, still living at home and having spent years in secluded prayer.  Father Paul Murray, O.P., lays out the power of Catherine’s response to God, which opened her to true freedom, in his book, Saint Catherine of Siena: Mystic of Fire, Preacher of Freedom (Word on Fire, 2020).  

The call of St. Catherine shows us life’s first priority, creating a genuine freedom in the soul so it can receive the gifts of God. God becomes present to the soul as a refining fire, consuming what does not belong and enflaming real holiness and freedom. Catherine, writing to Stefano Maconi, shows that God wants us to become our true selves in him: “If you would be the person you are meant to be, you could set fire to the whole of Italy” (161). This is precisely what happened to Catherine. She experienced the fire of God in her soul and sparked it in others — criminals, merchants, mothers, monks, bishops, and even the pope.  

Catherine encouraged a deep knowledge of self, truly owning up to our own sinful weakness, coupled by a firm trust in God’s mercy. Embracing God, the One Who Is, overcomes the nothingness that we embrace through sin. To those facing discouragement from habitual sin, Catherine advised them to “live in the blood,” to trust God’s mercy that flows from the blood of Jesus. “In the blood we discover the fountain of mercy. In the blood we discover clemency. In the blood we discover devotedness. In the blood our sins are brought to justice. In the blood mercy is satisfied. In the blood our hardness is melted. In the blood bitter things become sweet and heavy burdens light” (“Letter to Don Pietro,” 166).  Father Murray paints a beautiful and compelling picture of what it means to live in genuine Christian freedom, with Catherine as a model of receptivity, set on fire with the love of God.  

Becoming a saint is not easy in any age, but in ours it has become increasingly difficult due to the rise of an anti-Christian culture throughout the world. The 20th century witnessed enormous oppression from Communism, with over 100 million victims; however, even in the midst of it, great lights emerged. When St. John Paul II returned to Warsaw after his election, he urged his countryman to live in the truth and to reject the lies of the Communist state, trying to pit family members, neighbors, and co-workers against one another. Rod Dreher has looked at the noble response of Christians under Communist regimes as a model for how to respond to a new kind of oppression that uses the media, consumerism, and identity politics to control the way people think and live in the West. It is a new and subtle form of control, a “soft totalitarianism,” as Dreher explains in Live Not by Lies: A Manual for Christian Dissidents (Sentinel, 2020), by positioning itself at the service of oppressed groups and personal satisfaction.  

Dreher explains, “This totalitarianism is therapeutic. It masks hatred of dissenters from its utopian ideology in the guise of helping and healing” (7). It is akin to older forms of oppression in that it “seeks to displace all prior traditions and institutions, with the goal of bringing all aspects of society under control,” aspiring “to nothing less than defining and controlling reality” (7-8). Passive acceptance of a new way of thinking has happened through the distraction of technology and the ever-increasing desires fostered by consumerism. Individualism has led to loss of shared purpose and weakening of community that in turn has exposed Americans to the subtle manipulation of technology and social media (33, 76). “This technology and the culture that has emerged from it is reproducing the atomization and radical loneliness that totalitarian communist governments used to impose on their captive peoples to make them easier to control. … We are being conditioned to surrender privacy and political liberties for the sake of comfort, convenience, and artificially imposed social harmony” (92-93).  

Thankfully, the second half of the book looks at strategies for “how to live in truth” (95). Dreher tells amazing stories of Christians in Eastern Europe, who despite attempts at brainwashing and social control, were able to “see, judge, act” in order to resist pervasive lies and evil.  First of all, despite any social pressure, even torture, one can never accept lies as the truth, because a Christian has to live in accordance with reality. Second, we have to preserve a vital memory of tradition: “To perceive the critical importance of memory and the role culture plays in preserving and transmitting it is critically important for Christianity’s survival” (126). Third, we have to protect the family, the true bedrock of society, against constant attack. Dreher rightly recognizes it as the key “resistance cell” that teaches children how to think and live in accord with the truth and to create real community. He also recognizes the vital importance of faith to keep us focused on the true good (151) and to help us to stand in genuine solidarity with others, forming communities of support (ch. 9). Finally, Dreher exhorts us to be willing to suffer for the truth, the ultimate witness to a freedom that transcends raw power and the therapeutic.  

What is holding you back from being a saint? We face so many obstacles, both within and without. When we open ourselves to God’s grace, he makes crooked ways straight in us, turning us into conduits of his grace for our culture. The saints provide witness to the reality of God’s grace — that it is possible to be holy. St. Catherine witnesses to the true freedom that comes from the blood and the fire of God’s presence. Rod Dreher exhorts us to live within that presence, and the truth that it brings, no matter the obstacle. If we cling to God above all else, his divine life will flow through us, not only cleansing us but bringing God’s fire to the world.  

COMING UP: ‘I have seen the Lord’: St. Vincent de Paul’s new adoration chapel honors St. Mary Magdelene’s witness

Sign up for a digital subscription to Denver Catholic!

“I have seen the Lord.” (John 20:18). 

One couple from St. Vincent de Paul parish took these words to heart with urgency last year during the pandemic and decided to build a Eucharistic Adoration chapel for their fellow faithful to be in the Lord’s presence themselves. 

Mike and Shari Sullivan donated design and construction of the new Eucharistic Adoration Chapel of St. Mary Magdalene adjacent to their parish church to make a space for prayer and adoration that they felt needed to be reinstated, especially during the difficult days of COVID-19. 

The chapel was completed this spring and dedicated during Divine Mercy weekend with a special blessing from Archbishop Samuel J. Aquila. 

“It was invigorating to have the archbishop bless the chapel,” Mike said. “The church has been buzzing.” 

Mike has been a Catholic and a member of St. Vincent de Paul since his baptism, which he jokes was around the time the cornerstone was placed in 1951. The Sullivans’ five children all attended the attached school and had their sacraments completed at St. Vincent de Paul too. 

Archbishop Samuel Aquila dedicated the St. Mary Magdalene adoration chapel with a prayer and blessing at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church on April 9, 2021, in Denver, Colorado. (Photo by Daniel Petty/Denver Catholic)

The 26-by 40-foot chapel is a gift to fellow parishioners of a church that has meant so much to their family for decades, and to all who want to participate in prayer and adoration. 

The architect and contractor are both Catholic, which helped in the design of Catholic structure and the construction crew broke ground in mid-December. The Sullivans wanted to reclaim any Catholic artifacts or structural pieces they could for the new chapel. Some of the most striking features of the chapel are the six stained glass windows Mike was able to secure from a demolished church in New York. 

The windows were created by Franz Xaver Zettler who was among a handful of artists known for the Munich style of stained glass from the 19th century.  The Munich style is accomplished by painting detailed pictures on large pieces of glass unlike other stained-glass methods, which use smaller pieces of colored glass to make an image. 

The two primary stained-glass windows depict St. Augustine and St. Mary Magdalene, the chapel’s namesake, and they frame either side of the altar which holds the tabernacle and monstrance — both reused from St.  Vincent De Paul church.  

The Sullivans wanted to design a cloistered feel for the space and included the traditional grill and archway that opens into the pews and kneelers with woodwork from St. Meinrad Archabbey in southern Indiana. 

The chapel was generously donated by Mike and Shari Sullivan. The stained glass windows, which depict St. Augustine and St. Mary Magdalene, were created by Franz Xaver Zettler, who was among a handful of artists known for the Munich style of stained glass from the 19th century. (Photo by Daniel Petty/Denver Catholic)

Shari is a convert to Catholicism and didn’t grow up with the practice of Eucharistic adoration, but St. Vincent de Paul pastor Father John Hilton told her to watch how adoration will transform the parish. She said she knows it will, because of what regular Eucharistic adoration has done for her personally. 

The Sullivans are excited that the teachers at St. Vincent de Paul school plan to bring their classes to the warm and inviting chapel to learn about the practice of adoration and reflect on the presence of Christ in the Eucharist. 

The words of St. Mary Magdalene “I have seen the Lord,” have become the motto of the chapel, Mike said, and they are emblazoned on a brass plaque to remind those who enter the holy space of Christ’s presence and the personal transformation offered to those inside.

The St. Vincent de Paul  Church and The Eucharistic Chapel of St. Mary Magdalene is located at 2375 E. Arizona Ave. Denver 80210 on the corner of Arizona and Josephine Street. The chapel is open from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day. Visit https://saintvincents.org/adorationchapel1 for more information about the chapel and to look for updates on expanded hours as they occur.