My Magnificent Dozen

We all need a posse of spiritual helpers to turn to in need

I have a dozen Spiritual Hombres: my personal posse of saints ready to saddle up and ride to the rescue in times of need. To mangle movie titles, they’re my Magnificent Dozen¹. I got the idea from a wonderful and holy woman I teach with, and there isn't a Horst Bucholz² in the pack.

Folks, this is spiritual combat, and you need soldiers you can trust.

“I can't think of a better way to fight a war.”

St. Benedict

As an oblate of St. Benedict who lives by the Rule, obviously the Holy Father Benedict leads the pack. He’s our Yul Brynner, organizing the group and making sure it doesn't include any gyrovagues³. His rule is elegant simplicity, with a focus on humility and holiness. These were the things I lacked when I was drawn to the Benedictines, and the structure and wisdom of the Rule has greatly enriched my life. It was also meant to be, since a pair of latter-day Benedicts were key to drawing me back to the faith two decades ago: Pope Benedict XVI and Fr. Benedict Groeschell. I consider both honorary members of this saintly salad.

St. Michael the Archangel

There's entirely too much demon-talk going on right now in Catholic spaces, which is why I usually avoid the subject despite my grave concerns about the increase in demonic activity. I have personally experienced it. I know the weapons against it, and I let Michael wield the sword. The almost-instant response to the St. Michael Prayer saw me through six years of diaconate formation, and continues to get me through each day. I say it each morning, and you should too. He's second on this list for two very good reasons: he works, and we need him. Just do it.

St. Augustine

I was drawn to the beauty of his writing and the power of his rhetoric, which are among the greatest of the ancient world--up there with Homer, Virgil, Seneca, and Ovid. But it's the depth of spiritual wisdom that keeps me coming back, reading beyond the basics and deep into the homilies and letters, where you find a good and holy pastor of souls. Do I always agree with him? No, and neither does the church. He didn't even agree with himself all the time, which is why he compiled Retractationes. He was willing to say "I don't know." I've been a professional writer my entire adult life, with my first publication accepted when I was 18. The job has its ups and downs, but Augustine is the patron for my work.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux

I'm still getting to know Bernard, but his preaching, deeply mystical understanding of scripture and layered approach to exegesis has been, if not a model, at least an inspiration for my own homilies. He's my patron saint of preaching.

St. Bede

I took Bede (Baede) as my oblate name because of my love for his writing, in particular the Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, which is a good story well told. History, folklore, hagiology, and the like are kind of my jam, and I consider Bede the patron of WeirdCatholic.com.

St. Jude

My mother began praying daily to St. Jude during the war, around the year 1943 when the perpetual novena was popular. She never stopped, praying to him daily and dying 80 years later still reminding me to "put St. Jude on the job" if ever I needed anything. She was challenging person and had a lot of hopelessness in her life, and I think Jude was one of those rocks she could lean on. I've continued the tradition, and Lord knows, I'm a hopeless enough case.

When you really love St. Teresa, but also work for a game magazine.

St. Teresa of Avila

I think she's one of the most brilliant, extraordinary women who ever lived, and a deep and steady encounter with her life, her spirituality, and her writings has been incredibly enriching for me. That such a grounded and plainspoken person experienced the mystical depths she did continues to astound me. That mixture of magnificence and ordinariness is a rebuke to the sour-faced saints from the woman who broke into a traditional Spanish dance when she arrived a new convent. She has taught me much, and although I consider my spirituality primarily Benedictine, Teresan prayer is an essential part of it.

St. Thomas Aquinas

There is no denying the role of Thomas in returning me to the faith by showing me it can withstand hard intellectual scrutiny. I considered myself a Thomist for a time. My first theology degree was heavily Thomistic, and involved summarization of something like 200 articles of the Summa. Let me tell you: prolonged exposure to the many forms of Thomism is a great way to make an ex-Thomist. I still respect him and still consider him my name saint, but Benedict XVI led me in a more Augustinian direction. And yet, ite ad Thomam and all that: he is inescapable, and I genuinely like him, so he's here to help me as I try to teach a rational faith to students with a lot of doubts.

St. Gregory the Great

I picked up the Dialogues for the first time with a cocked eyebrow, thinking, "Oh really? What makes you so great?" It didn’t take long to find my answer. This grab bag of wonderful stories, pastoral wisdom, and an entire biography of Benedict remains one of my favorite spiritual works. He lived in a time of chaos, and saw a world grown tired and old, but rather than despairing he put his head down and dealt with the task at hand, always preaching the gospel. He reminds me that however bad the world seems now, twas ever thus, and if we keep a place for the holy and the strange, we'll get by fine. He's my pastoral patron.

Zelie & Louis Martin

Every parent needs a patron for their children, and obviously Monica is a great choice. But the parents of St. Therese of Lisieux are a three-fer: patrons of parents, married couples, and those with depression and other psychological problems. I need help with all of those things, so Zelie and Louis are a natural choice. Plus, they're new saints and not too busy yet. I even wrote a novena for them.

St. John the Apostle

My favorite apostle and the author of my favorite gospel. When I was wandering the spiritual wastelands, his words struck me like a thunderbolt: In the beginning was the word...Before Abraham was, I am...God is love, and he that abides in love abides in God... I could go on. He soars like an eagle over the entire Christian landscape, calling us higher and higher to a Christ who is the Logos, while revisionists keep trying to drag Jesus back to earth as just A Very Nice Guy. No. That's won't do at all. Jesus is an earthquake, an exploding star, the beginning and the end, the One through Whom all things were made. Light itself. The Beloved gave us that.

St. Francis of Assisi

It's impossible not to be drawn to this holy man, who preached a radical message at a time when it was most needed. As a deacon (Francis was never a priest), he’s the patron of my ministry in the church (the sick and grieving) as well as for my dogs, chickens, and all the beasts who live on my little patch of land. He also shares a name with someone beloved to me who went home to God too soon. Francis will always be there holding up the end of the line, probably because he paused to preach to some critters.

A spiritual rolodex: my box of holy cards

Bonus: Our Lady of Sorrows

Our Blessed Mother isn’t part of the posse because she occupies her own special place above them, but I don’t want to leave out a devotion that speaks deeply to me. The Seven Dolors of Our Blessed Mother is a powerful alternative to the Rosary for those who are suffering. There’s a lot of loss, pain, and sorrow in life, and Mary should be our companion through that. I am not a regular prayer of the Rosary, but I do return to this devotion.

1. If it had been a secular dozen, Steve McQueen and Lee Marvin would certainly be on the list. (And, not to brag, but I worked with Telly Savalas.)

2. In his genial autobiography, James Cagney says there was only a single actor in his entire career whom he personally hated: The Magnificent Seven’s Horst Bucholz.

3. “In every way [gyrovagues] are worse than sarabaites.“ From The Rule of Benedict. Hope that clears things up.