Finding Hope in Imperfect Saints
I’ve been thinking a lot about the saints we hear about in church. Have you ever really stopped to consider them—not just as holy figures we admire, but as real, everyday people like us? I think it’s so important to remember: the saints were human, just like us.
When I was in seminary, we’d hear about these saints, and I’d think, “Must be nice to be perfect, right?” Take St. Therese—she seems so perfect. Or St. Augustine—he’s often seen as flawless. But when you really read about Augustine’s life, you realize he wasn’t perfect at all!
And that’s the beauty of it. God wants us to see the saints as real people because it gives us hope. If they were human, and we’re human, then we can get closer to God too, even with all our imperfections.
Look at Saint Bernard. He was a leader, an abbot, and he helped restore the Benedictine order. He joined at 23, bringing 30 people with him, including some family members. Just four years later, he was sent to start a monastery. And he was doing all this before he even turned 30! So what motivated him? What kept him going?
For Bernard, and really for all the saints, there was this burning desire to help bring people to God. Bernard had a deep love for Mary. There’s a story where he stops by a church, sees a statue of Mary, and feels the weight of caring for so many souls. He asks Mary to take care of them, and she appeared to him, comforting him, and assuring him she would always be with him. That moment deepened his devotion to Mary.
Another time, Bernard was heartbroken over people’s sins. He looked at the cross and asked Jesus, “Why would you do this for us? How could you love us this much?” And the story goes that the figure of Jesus on the cross seemed to come alive and said, “I did this because I love you and because I love the world.”
Bernard’s life wasn’t easy. He had a lot on his shoulders, but he found his strength in Jesus and Mary. He taught simplicity and knew that the power wasn’t his—it was Christ’s.
Saint Bernard understood that living for God means letting go of the things the world values most. In the Gospel, Jesus says it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven—not because of their wealth in general, but because of how tightly they cling to it. It’s all about where our hearts are. There are rich people who aren’t consumed by their wealth.
The first shall be last, and the last shall be first. Bernard lived for God, not himself, and now we celebrate him. He might have been last in the eyes of the world, but he’s first in the kingdom of heaven.
So, what are we clinging to? What’s keeping us from God? Let’s get rid of the idea that we need to be perfect to go to God. None of us are perfect. We’re all weak, we’re all sinners. We go to God because we need Him—that’s what the saints understood.