Rediscovering the Saints of Old

For the past six months or so I’ve immersed myself in church history, and it has been glorious.

It’s also been a humbling, frustrating, and empowering experience. For one thing, I’ve seen that there really isn’t anything new under the sun: most (if not all) of the struggles the Church faces today have plagued her at some point or another in the past 2,000 years. I’ve learned about villains and heroes on both sides of the Atlantic…both sides of the Great Schism…and both sides (time-wise and theological) of the Protestant Reformation. I’ve also come to love the old liturgies and rhythms of the Church: the prayers and the festivals, the celebrations of the good, the true, and the beautiful, and the constant reminders that “from dust you are and to dust you shall return.”

But I’ve also realized that, in modern times, we’ve completely shoved many of the great ancient/medieval Christians under the rug…and this grieves me. The Church Fathers and the Christians of the Middle Ages were often blessed with such wisdom, courage, and humility. We’ve neglected their admonitions and encouragements for far too long. Some of their leaders were corrupt and hypocritical, yes…but many of our “church leaders” are just as corrupt and hypocritical NOW. It’s always been the people who live quiet, faithful, courageous lives who make the eternal difference–whether they live in 2019, 1219, or 219.

So today I’d like to introduce you to a few of these new heroes and heroines of mine. If anyone is interested in delving into Church history but doesn’t know where to start, let me highly recommend The 100 Most Important Events in Christian History*! While it hasn’t been my only source, its concise, gracious, and balanced summary of Church history makes it a particularly excellent one.

Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna


Polycarp was 1) a disciple of the Apostle John, 2) the Bishop of Smyrna, and 3) an absolute snark-master. He once passed a well-known heretic, Marcion, on the street without acknowledging him; angrily, Marcion demanded, “Do you know me?”–to which Polycarp coolly replied, “Yes, I know you, Firstborn of Satan.” Apply cold water to area of burn, Marcion. But Polycarp was also an incredibly brave martyr of the ancient Church. When Roman officials order him to renounce his faith, Polycarp replied, “Eighty and six years I have served Christ, and He has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?”

Augustine of Hippo


Augustine is probably Protestantism’s favorite Church Father, but I love him for his brutal honesty as well as for his emphasis on salvation by grace and faith alone. His half-hearted prayer as a young man of “Oh Lord, make me chaste–but not yet!” always makes me chuckle…but only because I, too, know how it feels to cling to pet sins until the Lord finally makes me let them go. Augustine’s opening prayer in Confessions is just as relatable, and hauntingly beautiful: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” [emphasis mine]

Benedict of Nursia


Benedict is considered the founder of Christian monasticism, thanks to his famous “Rule of Saint Benedict” and his founding of twelve influential monasteries in Italy. The Rule’s “unique spirit of balance, moderation and reasonableness” makes it one of the most inspiring codes in Western history. Far from being legalistic, it offers an appealing model for the cultivating one’s inner life, serving one’s community, and finding great joy and fulfillment in one’s work. Benedict was known for his kindness and self-discipline, and his influence is felt in Western Civilization to this day.

(By the way, please don’t diss the monasteries of the so-called “Dark Ages,” guys. Western Civ as we know it wouldn’t exist without the monks who preserved our history and copies of the Scriptures from marauding Goths and Vikings.)



Columba was an Irish missionary to Scotland, a prolific copier of the Scriptures (apparently he produced about 300 copies–by hand, of course), and the founder of an instrumental monastery on the island of Iona. It’s often said that Iona is “a thin place”–the distinction between Heaven and Earth is barely distinguishable in this quiet and holy spot. Columba fearlessly brought the Gospel to the Picts of Scotland–and according to one of my favorite traditions of all time, even rebuked a ferocious, man-eating monster in the name of Christ. The monster apparently lived in a lake near the River Ness…and yes, my friends, this is our earliest recorded story of the Loch Ness Monster.

Margaret of Scotland


Margaret was an English princess whose marriage to Malcolm III, King of Scotland, allowed her to be a force for change in her new (and mostly-uncivilized) homeland. Known as a strong but gentle woman, she was deeply passionate about her Christian faith, steadfast in her ministry to the poor, and determined to reform and organize the church in Scotland. While not particularly religious himself, King Malcolm so respected his wife that he pretty much gave her free reign to achieve her goals. Margaret also authorized the restoration of Columba’s abbey on Iona.

Francis of Assisi


Francis, son of a noble Italian family, was supposed to be a gallant knight…until the Lord grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and convicted him of his licentious lifestyle. His life completely turned around: in spite of his father’s opposition, he became a monk, rebuilt an abandoned abbey, and eventually founded the Franciscan Order. Francis took great delight in nature and animals: every time you sing “All Creatures of Our God and King,” you’re singing an adaptation of his joyous “Canticle of the Sun.” While reading some of his writings during my morning devotions, I was so struck by his firm reliance on God’s grace and Christ’s redemption.

Catherine of Siena


Many of the heroines of the ancient and medieval church were nuns–and this may sound strange, but as a single woman living a quiet, simple life, I often find their stories particularly encouraging. These women were so devoted to Christ: many of them defied their dowry-obsessed families, faced societal backlash, and faced all kinds of physical dangers in the pursuit of their calling. Catherine of Siena was one such woman. Even as a little girl she loved her Savior with a startling passion. As a Dominican nun she nursed the sick no one else dared to tend, enthusiastically promoted reform within the Church, called out popes and kings, and wrote theological books at a time when women authors were few and far between. “Preach the truth as if you had a million voices,” she wrote. “It is silence that kills the world.”

Hildegard of Bingen


As a Benedictine abbess, Hildegard wrote music, a morality play, and reams about theology, medicine, and botany–and if that wasn’t enough, she even invented her own language simply for her own amusement and convenience! Talk about a polymath. She was also a bit of a “hot ticket,” as my mom would say: she may or may not have faked an illness in order to guilt-trip an abbot into granting her the use of an abandoned monastery, and in the last year of her life she defied her superiors over the burial of an excommunicate who’d repented on his deathbed. Like Catherine of Siena, Hildegard’s love for Christ and her fellow man overflow in her writings.

We sang this wonderful hymn, “For All the Saints,” a couple of Sundays ago, and it’s a great way to conclude this post. Who are your favorite heroes and heroines of the faith? Let me know in the comments! I’m always excited to learn new things about my Christian heritage!

O may Thy soldiers,
faithful, true and bold,
Fight as the saints
who nobly fought of old,
And win with them
the victor’s crown of gold.
Alleluia, Allelluia…

11 thoughts on “Rediscovering the Saints of Old

  1. As a Roman Catholic, I just want to say, this post pleaseth me muchly. ❤ ❤ ❤

    St. Benedict has always been a major favorite of mine, and his sister St. Scholastica, too. I love their devotion to quiet & contemplation & learning–and the fact that they were great leaders and administrators at the same time. 😀

    I love Francis, and Dominic and Clare, too. AND Thomas Aquinas, I mustn't forget him!! G.K. Chesterton's biography of Aquinas is always so much fun for me to re-read.


    1. (*squeaks delightedly*) I was hoping you’d hop on and leave a comment, Katie! Can I just say how life-changing it is once you start making contemplation and time with the Lord a priority in your life? It can sometimes be nothing more than half an hour in the morning before everyone else wakes up–but it makes all the difference. I’ve been having a “quiet time” every morning since I was 16, but only in the past year or so has that discipline become a true joy.

      Oh-oh-oh, Clare is another heroine I’ve been wanting to read about! Like I said in the post, I just finished reading a selection of Francis’ writings, so I’ve heard about her; I just haven’t read about her in much depth yet. I ADORE Scholastica’s name–I need to read more about her, too. And Thomas Aquinas is AWESOME. The only reason I didn’t mention him (or Bernard of Clairvaux) was because I was running out of space, haha. Talk about a brilliant, God-fearing man! I always love listening to R.C. Sproul (who I consider my “theological grandfather” in the same way C.S. Lewis is my “theological Uncle Jack”) talk about Aquinas. The worldview curriculum we used in our homeschool really didn’t have a high opinion of Aquinas (it’s a great curriculum otherwise), but because we’ve spent so much time listening to R.C. Sproul wax eloquent on Aquinas’ exceptional theology and philosophy, my siblings and I have always had a great appreciation for him.

      I did not know G.K. Chesterton wrote a biography on Aquinas, though! I have absolutely no doubt that that is Quality Reading.


      1. YES. Quiet contemplation is one of my favorite ways to pray. It always leaves me feeling relaxed, and grounded.

        Aquinas was the best. I have such awe & respect for his mind and everything he was able to accomplish in teaching about God.

        Yes!!! Chesterton wrote biographies of both Francis of Assisi and Thomas Aquinas, and they’re both excellent.


  2. This warms my church historian’s heart! Hildegard is a favorite of mine, too. Though I’ve focused my studies on the 19th century, the early and medieval periods of Christianity are so encouraging to me! Studying church history reminds me of that scene in Moana when she finds her ancestors’ boats and runs out of the cave yelling, “We were voyagers!” She found her own heartbeat in that of her forefathers, and appealed to an older tradition to save her people. That’s what it feels like to study the history of the church–finding kindred spirits across time, whose faithful lives compel me to live in similar patterns of faithfulness.


    1. I absolutely love these thoughts, Melody! That’s exactly what it’s been like: these kindred spirits from so long ago have encouraged me to delve deeply into the riches of God’s love, to cultivate my inner life, and to recognize the beauty of the simple life. These are things we’ve neglected in our modern day–but the early Christians understood them so well!


  3. *SQUEALSSSSSS* I am in loveeeeee!!! It is so hard to find another Christian who feels the same way about church history and saints as I do. Catherine of Siena and Hildegard in particular are my favorites, and like you said, them being nuns is particularly encouraging. I love Hildegard’s many talents. The fact that she was incredibly talented as a woman makes me dance around. She is one of my favorite of the early church saints. I loved reading this, and I hope you write more of these soon! (I want to go and write one now)…
    Okay, my English class is starting lol – rats! I want to talk more!
    Emily 🙂


    1. I’m so glad you liked the post, Emily!! I was hoping I’d hear from you, especially since I know we think along the same lines about these things 😉 It’s just so good to have these stories of faithful single women. While I deeply love and appreciate all the stories of faithful Christian wives and mothers through the ages, sometimes those of us who aren’t in that season need stories of women who never married, yet devoted themselves heart and soul to Christ and His people. Not that I would ever want to live in a convent, haha–I love my family too much for that! But I think this is why I’ve always been so drawn to the nuns in Call the Midwife, as well: I just appreciate and admire their undivided, Christ-saturated hearts and the way they still get to exercise their gifts, talents, and personalities for the good of their community.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. This was so fascinating, Maribeth! I have to admit, lately your postings on Church history and early saints have made me want to learn more about them myself! I’ve read some early-ish church writings (like Confessions) but I wouldn’t say I have a great grasp or knowledge of Church history as a whole. Thanks for the book rec, it looks like a good place to start! 🙂


    1. You’re welcome, Hayden! I do think you’d enjoy that book. It’s definitely written from a Protestant/Reformed perspective, yet it handles the trickier denominational/theological differences within the Church in such a gracious way. I want to have a good grasp on Scriptural truths and know what I believe (and why), but I also want to give credit where credit is due when it comes to our Christian forefathers–even if I don’t necessarily agree with them on every issue! It’s given me a much more balanced, full-orbed perspective on Church history, and that’s been both humbling and encouraging.


  5. Oh! This is one of my favourite topics.
    I can’t understand this idea going around that protestants can’t/shan’t care about church history– or unless it’s history of a few select groups.
    I, for one, relish being able to learn about this vast and fascinating family history! I think it may have been Polycarp who first sparked my interest in the subject, and I’ve admired him ever since. Also, as a Scot, I owe much to Columba.
    Other heroes of the faith include Athanasius of Alexandria, and Clement of Rome (or whoever it was who wrote the letter bearing his name).
    I’ve found Nick Needham’s 2000 Years of Christ’s Power to be an excellent history book.


    1. YES–that’s exactly what it is–a family history! I personally believe there are (at least) two reasons for the “history problem” within American Evangelical Protestantism: 1) Our eschatology is such that we don’t care about the past or the wisdom it can offer us at all (we’ve become overly obsessed with politics, the immediate future, and the end times), and 2) We’re so proud of our rugged individualism and casual Christianity, we scoff at anything that so much as hints of “institutionalism” or High Church. So we turn our noses up at periods (or denominations) where High Church was/is dominant. Unfortunately, we often content ourselves with a limited history that starts with the Pilgrims and ends with the Moral Majority. Not that either of those things or people are bad, but we’re doing ourselves an extreme disservice if we don’t embrace a more well-rounded, balanced view of the Church’s history. The history of the past 2,000 years makes SO much more sense if you follow the Church’s ups and downs.

      I just looked up the book you recommended and realized it’s actually a four-book series! Wow! The reviews are outstanding, too. Sounds like that series is another great and well-balanced source. Thanks for the recommendation!

      So cool that you’re of Scottish heritage, by the way–although I should’ve guessed it from your username 😉 I, too, wish to be a Shennachie!


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