By John Singarayar
Last year, I watched Father Anthonyswamy stack boxes of canned goods in the pouring rain. His small rural church had organized a food drive for flood victims, and there he was, not just preaching about love from the pulpit, but living it in the muddy parking lot.
A volunteer nearby whispered something that stayed with me: “He is not just a priest; he is a saint for us.” That moment sparked a question I cannot shake: Do we desperately need more saints in today’s Church?
I am not talking about the marble statues in cathedrals or names etched in Church history. Saint Francis, renouncing his wealth, and Saint Teresa, in mystical prayer, feel impossibly distant from our everyday struggles. But real sainthood is not about perfection or headline-grabbing miracles. It is about showing up consistently with hearts open to God and neighbors.
It is Father Anthonyswamy in that downpour, the grandmother praying her rosary for troubled grandchildren, or the teenager choosing volunteer work over endless scrolling. These are the saints we need, people who make faith tangible in life’s beautiful mess.
Today’s Church faces daunting challenges. Scandals have fractured trust. Empty pews tell stories of disillusionment, especially among young people. Our hyper-connected world pulls us toward screens and schedules, away from silence and prayer.
In such times, saints are not just inspiring: they are essential. They show us what lived faith looks like beyond Sunday Mass, bridging the gap between worship and weekday reality. They prove that holiness is not confined to church walls but travels with us in our hands and hearts.
Consider the early Church. Those first Christians were not perfect specimens of virtue. They argued, doubted, and stumbled regularly. Yet saints emerged from their ranks not only the famous apostles, but ordinary people who shared bread with strangers, prayed for enemies, and faced persecution with remarkable courage. Their authentic witness ignited a movement that transformed civilizations.
That same courage burns bright today. Think of Stan Swamy, the Jesuit priest who spent his final years in an Indian prison, accused simply of defending tribal rights and living his faith among the poor. Or Sister Rani Sonia, gunned down on a bus for her work with the marginalized.
In Kandhamal and Manipur, ordinary Christians have faced violence, displacement, and death for refusing to abandon their beliefs. These modern martyrs remind us that sainthood sometimes demands everything.
Yet alongside them walk countless others who choose daily faithfulness over comfort: people who forgive when wounded, serve without applause, and love when the world calls it foolish. These saints do not need halos, they need hearts brave enough to say yes to God, whether that leads to quiet service or ultimate sacrifice.
But how are saints formed? They are not born with supernatural abilities. They are shaped in quiet moments most of us overlook, praying before dawn breaks, choosing kindness over anger, trusting God through crushing disappointment.
I know Sonia from my parish, a single mother juggling two jobs who still teaches catechism every Sunday. When I asked why she adds this burden to her already overwhelming schedule, she simply shrugged: “These kids need to know God loves them.”
Sonia possesses no theology degree or mystical experiences, yet her life preaches more powerfully than eloquent sermons. She is becoming a saint through ordinary faithfulness, not flawless performance.
The Church does not manufacture saints through programs or initiatives. God creates them through willing human cooperation. Every time we choose love over hatred, patience over frustration, and generosity over selfishness, we allow divine grace to reshape us.
This transformation is not easy. Life hurls unexpected challenges: illness, loss, spiritual dryness. Our culture constantly tempts us toward self-absorption, comfort-seeking, and success-chasing. Yet saints keep their gaze fixed on something greater. They demonstrate that genuine faith means more than intellectual belief, it means living as though God’s love can actually change everything.
We also need saints to reveal authentic joy. Not the manufactured happiness from social media validation or material success, but the profound contentment of knowing we are never truly alone.
I remember Tom from our local soup kitchen, a man who had lost his job and home yet smiled while serving others. “God has got me,” he said with quiet conviction. His faith wasn’t loud or theatrical but steady as a lighthouse beam cutting through storm clouds. Saints illuminate even the darkest circumstances, helping others navigate toward hope.
Do we need more saints? Absolutely. Not because the Church needs additional statues, but because our broken world desperately needs more witnesses to divine love.
We need teachers, parents, workers, and friends who live the Gospel so authentically that others cannot help but notice. We need people who prove faith is not outdated or irrelevant, it is vibrantly alive, urgently needed, and breathtakingly beautiful.
The most encouraging truth? We can all embrace this calling. Not through grand gestures, but by doing small things with extraordinary love, as Mother Teresa wisely taught.
Next time you attend Mass, look around carefully. The saints we need might be sitting nearby, that exhausted parent, the widow clutching her prayer book, even the restless child doodling in the pew.
Perhaps it is you, called to love more deeply, forgive more quickly, and pray more faithfully. The Church does not need more elaborate programs or impressive buildings, it needs more of us saying yes to God’s invitation, one choice at a time.
Like Father Anthonyswamy standing in that rain, we are all called to sainthood, not someday in the distant future, but right now, today. – UCA News
*The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.
