1 November 1989
Manila, Philippines

My dear Confreres,

When Pope John XXIII canonized St. Maria Goretti, the man who had murdered her was sitting in the front row of those participating at her canonization ceremony. When Pope John Paul II canonized St. Maximilian Kolbe, seven years ago, an aged man was sitting close to the papal altar during the Mass of canonization. He was the man whose place St. Maximilian Kolbe took in the death cell in the concentration camp of Auschwitz. When, at the close of the last century, a Vincentian priest and martyr, John Gabriel Perboyre, was beatified, his brother, who was also a Vincentian priest, had the joy of celebrating Mass the following day in honor of his martyr brother. All these people I have mentioned must have felt particularly close to those who were being raised to the honors of the altar.

Today's feast should be a reminder to us that we also are very close to the saints and the saints to us. You will remember how, shortly before her death, St. Theresa of Lisieux said that she would spend her life in heaven in doing good on earth. That sentiment could be shared by all the saints in Heaven. They are contemplating the beauty, the truth and the goodness of God and, because they see more clearly the immensity of the love He has for us poor, fragile sinners, they are spending their time, as St. Theresa expressed it, in doing good on earth, through interceding for us with Christ to the Father from Whom all good things come.

The saints are close to us and we can feel close to the saints, even when we fall short of their achievements. Saints differ very much in character and temperament. With the exception of Mary, who was conceived without sin, the saints have, like the rest of us, their faults and limitations. If you ever found yourself in the presence of a very saintly person, the overall impression you would have is that you are being accepted by that saintly person. You would feel that even if you told that saintly person the worst things about yourself, you would still be accepted and your weaknesses would be understood. It is not that the saint considers sin to be of no importance; quite the contrary. The saint has an unusually highly developed sense of sin. The saints' power of accepting people, so much less worthy than they, is nothing other than the holiness and the love of God breaking through their personalities. The holiness of the saints is not their own. It is God's. In the Eucharistic prayers we acknowledge that "all life, all holiness, comes from You...." Certainly we must cooperate with God to become holy, but the holiness we see in others, and in ourselves, is God's holiness. It is His love, His justice, His goodness, like the sun, breaking through the clouds.

St. Vincent de Paul remarked on one occasion that we should be like the rays of the sun that penetrate into dark and murky places, yet remain uncontaminated by the dust and the dirt. A saint is like a ray of sunshine that enlightens and warms and is unaffected by the dust of sin.

I have been concentrating on the saints on earth. Today the Church is thinking of that great crowd from every nation and race and people and tongue who stand before the throne of the Lamb of God in heaven. Whether the saints are on earth or in heaven does not really matter, for we are all one in Christ Jesus. A saint in heaven is but continuing what he saw as his vocation on earth, the loving of God with his whole heart and his whole soul, with all his strength and with all his mind, and loving all on earth who have been redeemed by the Blood of the Lamb. St. Theresa of Lisieux did not wait until she got to heaven to devote herself to doing good on earth. Listen again to St. John's words in the second reading: "Beloved, we are God 's children now....When He appears, we shall be like Him for we shall see Him as He is, and everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure." (1 Jn 3:2-3).