Paul is not the kind of saint most people automatically warm up to. It’s easy to see him as arrogant, argumentative, and insensitive. By modern Western cultural standards, some of his comments and views seem off-putting. Even those who would like to approach him can find his thinking convoluted and puzzling. The primitive Church noticed that too. Here’s what we find in the second letter of Peter: “Our beloved brother Paul wrote…things in his letters which are difficult to understand—ignorant and unstable people distort them, just as they distort the other scriptures, to their own destruction!” (2 Pt 3,15, 16)
So did I. Born in San Francisco, I considered myself a proper feminist. I did not like Paul and I felt that he did not like me. Mine was a sentiment shared by many men, too. Blessed James Alberione, founder of the Pauline Family, lamented:
“Many study and admire St. Paul, but fewer imitate and love him. They contemplate in him the book and the sword; fewer, his determination and sacrifices; fewer still, his heart and spiritual struggles.”
Our family moved to Cleveland, Ohio, and there I came to know the Daughters of St. Paul. They gave me the Novena to St. Paul and encouraged me to pray for my vocation. No way! I would not be dragged into the convent, and by a man who had little regard for my legitimate aspirations.
The vocation question, though, kept nagging, needling, plaguing me. Finally, in desperation one day, I grabbed the novena and fell to my knees beside my bed: “OK, St. Paul, you and I do not get along. So, if you want me to be one of your daughters, you’re going to have to get me to like you.” There was no thunderbolt, no voice from the sky. But he had gotten his foot in the door and he wasn’t about to leave.
Soon afterward, I joined the congregation, naively thinking that I might be able to ignore its patron, since I loved the sisters. I was given a modern translation of the Bible with great footnotes—this is important—and I discovered Paul’s letter to the Romans.
It was pure gold! I found answers to my questions about faith and life. I saw more deeply than ever that I was a daughter of a God who had “adopted” me in Christ, by infusing me with the same Spirit who had anointed Jesus. It transformed my spiritual DNA, so that what I said and did could be Christian and the basis for vocation and mission.
This was the first part of “the secret”: listen with an open heart to the Apostle, who opens his heart to us.
The second part was learning to pray to and with him. My community’s hymns, prayers, and devotional practices led me to discover in him a friend and father. Fr. Alberione urges us: “Love St. Paul, tell him all the secrets of your heart, bring to him all the little things. Your trust in him will not be disappointed.” Whether I was studying, evangelizing, or sharing a meal with my sisters in community, I felt his companionship and inspiration.
Over the past twenty-five years, I traveled back and forth to Italy for study or mission. Especially in Rome, Paul leaped off the pages of Scripture into every corner of the city that knew him well. I often gave tours of places that recalled his memory. Visitors of all religious and cultural backgrounds were fascinated with him. One day at the basilica of St. Paul Outside-the-Walls, a woman approached me in tears. Pointing to a fresco, she asked, “Is that Paul?” When I said yes, deeply moved she exclaimed, “Oh, how much Paul has done for us!”
“The heart of Paul became the Heart of Christ (‘Cor Pauli, cor Christi’), and Jesus changed the heart of this ferocious lion…into a heart of tenderness. It is impossible to read an affectionate passage in St. Paul’s letters without weeping. They are more touching than a mother’s words” (Fr. Alberione).
Does Paul really want to help me?
“I have you in my heart.” These words of the Apostle Paul to the Christians in Philippi (1:7) pulse with the love that he had for his beloved in Christ. Much, perhaps too much, is made of Paul’s fiery temperament. It’s useful to remember that the flip side of what we consider a character flaw is, in fact, a valuable personal asset. That passionate nature of his rendered Paul an ardent lover of Christ, a steadfast, creative shepherd, and a devoted, faithful friend. His strength, refined by grace and self-mastery, made him, as he himself testified, “like a nursing mother comforting her child” (1Th 2:7).
In our jaded, fast-paced society, we need saints with a dramatic flair, people who can startle us into asking the important questions in life. Paul does precisely that, hardly containing his burning desire to befriend us and bring us to Jesus Christ. Whether he was chiding the gullible Galatians, who fell for what he called “a different gospel” (Gal 1:6), or extolling the faith of those he brought to Christ, he longed for their love: “Make room for us in your hearts!.. as I’ve already said, you’re in our hearts and we’ll die together and live together. I have great confidence in you, I have great pride in you. I’m wonderfully encouraged and despite all our afflictions I’m brimming over with joy” (2 Cor 7: 2, 3-4).
If there was anyone who understood the arduous journey of following Christ, it was Paul. And if there was anyone who experienced the saving mercy of Christ, it was likewise Paul. During his lifetime, he gloried in his weakness (cf. 2Cor 12:9), because he knew that the strength of Christ would come to his rescue and work miracles within his limitations. So we can walk confidently with him in the mercy of God in Christ Jesus and ask his help.
Paul probably never dreamed that his influence would stretch across the centuries. As strong as his words to us are, equally strong are his words for us before “the throne of grace” (Heb 4:16). Our friendship with him can take us there.
Featured Image: http://gorod-zagorsk.ru/pic/mess050pic659.jpg, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; other image credits: Saint Paul images public domain from Wikimedia Commons; all other images are the author’s own.
