My maternal grandfather was a carpenter. Mostly he built houses, but he could pretty much make anything out of wood. One day, when I was in my early 20s, he took me down to his workshop because he had a piece of furniture he wanted to give me. It was a beautiful antique vanity that he had picked up from an auction. I instantly loved it and he said to me with a smile, “I thought you might like it.” Although he didn’t make it, it still meant a lot to me coming from him. Looking at it always made me think of his workshop which smelled like sawdust and lacquer; two smells I associate with him.
He passed away in January of 2015 and when he did that vanity went from being important to priceless in my eyes. At the end of 2015, our family moved across the country to Las Vegas and when we received all our household goods, that vanity was gone. When we reported it lost to the military, they asked for an estimated price. How could I give them one? To me, it was priceless because it was a gift from my beloved grandfather. Having it sit in my dining room often stirred wonderful memories of him. Now, it’s gone. I think they gave us like 60 dollars for it. Bleh.
Thankfully, my cousin took my grandpa’s old shirts and made them into pillows for people in the family. Since my favorite color is purple, she used one of his purple button-down shirts for mine. I’m so thankful that I have it.
After the death of my loved ones, I’ve always sought to have something important that belonged to them. I have my paternal grandfather’s family pocket watch. I have a special bracelet that belonged to my great aunt. This past April my maternal grandmother passed away. She collected teapots and pitchers, so I picked out one of those that was meaningful to me.
The reason I am telling you all this is because I want to talk about relics. But, before we move on, let’s define what a relic is.
“A relic is a part of a deceased holy person’s body or belongings kept as an object of reverence.“
There are three types of relics:
First-class relics are usually a tiny piece of bone from a canonized saint. It can, also, be a drop of blood or a piece of hair. They can, also, be an object that Christ touched, i.e. the Cross.
Second-class relics are “objects worn or used by saints, such as a rosary or prayer book.”
Third-class relics are “some object that has been touched to a first or second class relic.”
The Catholic Church gets a lot of grief over relics. Many people see the practice of keeping and venerating (to regard with great respect) relics as a little weird if not down-right idolatry.
Here’s the thing, though, outside of the Catholic Church most people participate in keeping “relics” of loved ones. When someone we love dies, we want something of theirs to remember them by. It helps us still feel connected in some tangible way. Nobody sees this as weird or idolatrous. When I see my grandpa’s shirt pillow, I am reminded of his big bear hugs and how he smelled of ivory soap. When I see the picture of my paternal grandfather hanging in my office, I think of him. I remember sitting on his lap when I was a kid while he played the drums at the city band concerts. When I wear the ring that my great-aunt gave me, I am instantly reminded of the feel of her hands when she clasped mine. The decorative pitcher from my maternal grandmother reminds me of her home and how I always felt loved there. All these things help lift my mind and heart to the person with whom they are connected.
Relics in the Catholic Church are not different. They are not meant to be worshipped, but, instead, are meant to draw our hearts and minds to a particular saint. “We might think of relics as reminders of our ancestors in our faith, of holy people who followed God’s will during their lives and after whom we might model our lives.”
As humans, we have a very real desire to touch and see the things of past ancestors or key figures in history. When we were stationed in Charlottesville, Virginia, I lived very close to Thomas Jefferson’s house, Monticello. I know, I know, everyone is spitting on him these days, but I refuse to participate in the two-dimensional view we’ve decided to have of people from the past. People are complex and it would serve us well to be more nuanced in our discussion of their lives. Anyway, when I went on a tour of his house, it was almost surreal to be standing in the office that he once sat in to write letters and work on his scientific experiments. I could let my mind imagine him in that space and it helped to make him more real because there were his boots, and there was his bed, and there was his collection of books.
The same thing happened when I went to Ford’s Theater in DC. I stood right in the balcony area where Lincoln was shot. From there, I moved across the street and stood in the room that he died in. All of a sudden, he wasn’t just some guy in a history book; he was a very real person who had once taken his last breath in that room.
Recently, my family visited the Maria Stein Shrine in Maria Stein, Ohio. It houses the second largest collection of relics in the United States. I got to see relics of my patron saint, Maria Goretti. There are relics from St. Mother Teresa, Blessed Giorgio Frassati, St. Maximillian Kolbe and so many more. As I moved around the shrine, what stood out to me was that I was surrounded by tangible evidence of literally hundreds of people who had lived their lives for Christ–people who had heeded the call to holiness.
As I walked around the room, I read a sign that said this:
“The relics are reminders that we are a sacramental Church, the body of Christ made visible. These relics are visible, tangible signs to us that we are called to lives of holiness and self-sacrifice, that we are all members of the communions of saints, and that those who have gone to heaven before us remain with us in some way and always interned for us before God almighty.”
Just as the things that I have of my grandparents help raise my mind to them, so, too, do the relics help to raise our minds to the saints and reflect on their lives. “The communion of all saints bids us to think beyond our own time and place.”
As with anything, it is important to understand and recognize WHY the Catholic Church encourages a certain practice or believes a certain way. The Church has never taught the faithful to worship any relic. It has never been taught that they are “magical” objects. We are taught that relics are meant to inspire holiness in us and draw our mind to the saints in Heaven who offer their prayers for us. And if God so chooses, He can work a miracle through relics. Could someone wrongly see relics as superstitious objects? Sure, but then someone could see a family heirloom as a superstitious object, too, or any object for that matter.
Is there Biblical evidence for why the Catholic Church practices this? Sure. One area where we see evidence for relics is when the woman is cured of a hemorrhage by touching the hem of Christ’s cloak (Matt. 9:20-22). We, also, read about the sick who were healed when Peter’s shadow passes over them (Acts 5:14-16). In Acts 19:11-12, we read: “And God did extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that handkerchiefs or aprons were carried away from his body to the sick, and diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them.” And don’t forget, in 2 Kings, a man is brought back to life after touching the bones of Elisha. So, you see, God chooses to use objects (bones, cloth, and even a shadow) of very holy people to produce miracles for others.
No one in the Catholic Church is required to spend time venerating relics. It’s not something you have to do, though respect for them is expected because of their importance and significance. It’s an offered practice that the Catholic Church encourages to help us in our spiritual journey.
One last thought, Catholic Pilgrims: If someone tells you that visiting bones is weird, ask them if they’ve ever been to a cemetery to pay respect to their beloved dead whose bones happen to be six feet below them. Chances are they have and I’ve never met a single person that thinks it’s weird to go honor your loved ones buried in a cemetery.
*All quotes are taken from a pamphlet from the Maria Stein Shrine.
