A Catholic Thing

I arrived at Sacred Heart Church in Medford, Oregon, before the event began, dressed in the jacket, sword and baldric of the Knights of Columbus Color Corps. Under a blue sky and glaring sun, an enormous line of churchgoers stretched around the parish hall. For months, Catholic newspapers around the country had been abuzz with reports about the pilgrimage of the relic of St. Jude the Apostle. In an itinerary that began in Chicago, a year ago September, it had been to some 240 parish communities, including more than a half dozen in Oregon. It was said that the blessed remains had not been moved from Rome since the thirteenth century.  Public media were fascinated. The visit of the relic of St. Jude, was featured on television news and in local newspapers. The Rogue Valley Times told how “people of faith descended upon Sacred Heart Church” to venerate the saint’s remains. There were aspects of the event, however, that could not explained in a few sound bites.  It was a Catholic thing.

The front-page article in The Rogue Valley Times told how “people of faith descended upon Sacred Heart Church” to venerate the remains of St. Jude.

The relic of St. Jude went well beyond the usual small fragment of bone or cloth found in European churches. The piece of bone, encased in a wooden arm raised as if in blessing, was at least four inches in length. The impressive relic, however, received little attention over the years. For centuries the remains of the saint sat undisturbed beneath the altar of a side chapel of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. As late as 1909 an authoritative German guidebook noted that the altar contained the remains of a baroque-era composer, Giovanni da Palestrina, but made no mention of St. Jude.  

The saint appears rarely in the Gospels, speaks only once, and details of his martyrdom are uncertain. His presence in the popular prayer-life of the Church is also difficult to trace, and not until the late 1700s does devotion to the saint as patron of hopeless cases appear in France and Germany.  A century later, prayers to St. Jude were popular among the poorer classes in Mexico. In the early 1900s Mexican migrants, brought the devotion with them to the Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Chicago, where in 1929, a national shrine to St. Jude was established. In the thirties it became common to find short thank you messages to St. Jude for favors received in daily newspapers.

In more recent years, the saint received additional recognition through the charitable work of  Danny Thomas, a popular comedian and film star.  As a young man, Thomas had made a vow: If he was successful in his career, he would build a shrine to St. Jude, a saint associated with the Lebanese homeland of Thomas’s parents. For nearly a decade Danny Thomas and his wife gathered funds, and in  1962 opened what became famous as St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital  in Memphis, Tennessee. In 2021 St. Jude Hospital charities received over two billion dollars in donations from Catholics and non-Catholics alike, and few do not recognize the name “St. Jude.”

At Sacred Heart that afternoon, all this was far from people’s minds. Men, women, and children, some of whom had been standing in line for hours, silently shuffled forward. A Mother held the hand of a small child to the glass. People in wheelchairs stood to touch the reliquary, others would remain seated and stretched out their arms to press against it. Each person lingered a few seconds in prayer and then moved on. A middle-aged woman leaned her forehead against the glass pane, closed her eyes, and was motionless for several seconds before backing away. Physical or spiritual suffering was evident wherever one looked. For thirty minutes, I stood at attention beside the relic, lost in thought, while the endless stream of faithful approached, prayed, and moved on. By the end of the day, over 2400 persons would file past.

The giving and getting of blessings through holy objects is something Catholics takes for granted.  It happens often. We ask God to bless us through holy water, with ashes, and with holy oils.  From the earliest days of the Church, Christians felt blessed to be near the burial places of the martyrs and celebrated the Eucharist at their grave side.  The tradition of imbedding the relic of a saint in every altar of worship traces back to this ancient custom.  

The practice of honoring deceased saints, by preserving pieces of bone in crystal-covered cases, dates to the Middle Ages. The actual relic in the reliquary at left is less than ¼ inch wide.

For Catholics, faith is a layered reality where spiritual and material elements are never far apart. As the procession filed by, people placed religious articles against the reliquary glass, convinced that a holy card, prayer book, rosary or crucifix so blessed, would in some way bring them closer to God.  

“It’s superstition” a friend had told me a day earlier. But that afternoon, I saw no signs of magic or dark arts. Spiritual renewal, by contrast, was strongly in evidence. The Vatican brief authorizing the pilgrimage of the relic to the United States expressed the hope that it would bring with it a fresh “breath of fervor and renewed will to follow the missionary zeal of the apostles.”  Worshippers were invited to remain in church to pray.  The papal indulgence attached to the relic required confession and the resolve not to sin again.  During the afternoon and early evening, nearly 500 confessions were heard. The day would culminate in the celebration of the Eucharist in which we would join with St. Jude and all the angels and saints to praise to our Heavenly Father.    

When the Color Guard changed, I realized that, in the short period of time that I had stood beside the relic, something had also changed within me. That afternoon, spirituality was palpable. I had come to the church that afternoon to provide support for the event, curious and skeptical. But I found myself overwhelmed by the deep piety I encountered, and I felt myself blessed and humbled at having been there. It was a Catholic thing. 

The pilgrimage of the relic of St. Jude brought the precious artifact to more than 240 parishes across the United States

A Letter to St. Jude

Beginning in the 1930s devotees spread devotion to St. Jude by placing thank you ads in newspapers acknowledging favors received. The practice continues today.  The sample letter below conveys first-hand the simple, human face of this devotion.

8/28/2024