The Southwest Voice

By: Paula Smith

I want to be a saint. Is that sacrilegious to say?

I went to Mission San Juan Capistrano this week and learned a lot. I don’t know what I think about saints exactly, but I still prayed to the statue of the saint who deals with cancer just to be safe. I mean I like the idea of a saint, at least my idea.

You wear their picture on your neck and they take care of you. I used to have a St. Christopher, but then I lost him on accident. I was kind of mad for a few days. He watches over travelers and children. Lots of surfers wear him.

Ever since I lost that guy, I’ve been anxious that I am going to have bad travels or ugly children. Anyway, I think it would be so rad to have saint statues, but I bet that's not the first step to becoming one.

In the mission gift shop they had all kinds of saints to pick from. Some I knew and some I didn't: Thomas Aquinas (I’ve heard his name, but I forget what he did), Peter, Paul, Theresa (is that the same one who is also the mother?), Claire, Anthony, Francis of Assisi and then some peculiar names I can’t quite remember, but sounded like Greek gods.

The men behind the counter were pretty involved in a conversation about the pope and baby Jesus, so I didn’t ask much about who was who in the saint drawers. Plus I felt like I should know these things already if I am going to say I'm a Christian. Not like you might be thinking — that every Christian must know every saint and their life story. I just mean that I’ve been around the block a few times when it comes to the faith — like seven years or so — and I would like to have known who lived a holy and devout life outside of Bible characters.

Well the more I thought about these things, the more I wanted to at least have one saint for now that I could get to know, maybe become friends with and see where it goes from there. I did laps around the glass counter cases trying to decide.

So I finally nailed my choice down to a top three:

• St. Anthony and St. Francis: I liked it because it was double sided — Anthony on one side and Frank on the other.

• Friar Junipero Serra: he’s the one who founded the mission.

• The Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (or Ghost as some prefer).

The friar got out on the first round simply because on the back it said pray for us. I don’t mean anyone offense, but things like that bother me. I’ve always admired St. Francis from afar and can remember a few things about his life. He was saved by the book of Romans in a garden, he stole pears and wrote a lot, but that could be some other guy too. However, I had no idea who Anthony was or what he did, but the double side really got me.

In the end, I went with The Trinity simply because I do know what that is about. Not exactly like a science, but I mean I’ve had real experiences with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit more than once and sometimes all at once in this strange, mysterious, you’re-not-going-to-understand-exactly kind of way. I know about their lives most and know that the existence of the Trinity is foundational to my faith. That kind of thing could matter more hanging around my neck, but then again it could totally not.

They aren’t exactly saints, or are they?

For my whole life, in my heart of hearts, deep down and despite my outward actions I have always longed, yearned and deeply desired to be the epitome of good, a saint.

I think this came from God. You know, at creation when He put His image in us and made us for the best possible place ever made — the garden of Eden, paradise? At His very essence and core, God is good and because I am made like him, I so long to be good, too.

But mostly I am so far from good. Most days I am the girl sitting on her bed just picking her nose and staring off into space, or the girl who looks the other way when there’s a bum on the side of the road or even the girl who crosses the street when there is someone I don’t understand, agree with or just don’t like.

Maybe they should make a manual for these kinds of things, a step by step guide on how to attain saintliness or what to do to stop being so awful. Maybe one of those saints could have written a book called, “What I did to get my face in sterling silver, my body carved as a marble statue and my name in church history.”

I would read it.