In 1505, Martin Luther was returning home after having started studies in law, when he found himself in a thunderstorm that made him fear for his life. He sought shelter by a large rock and famously cried out, “Help me, Saint Anne, and I will become a monk.” Luther was spared any harm and he returned home, had a party with his friends, and entered a monastery never to study law again. He later came to reflect on this moment and was convicted that he was wrong in treating Saint Anne in a way that he was convinced only God should be treated. This remains a point of disagreement between Catholics and Protestants to this day.
The Catholic Catechism (#956) explains that the saints in heaven “do not cease to intercede with the Father for us” and so a believer is “greatly helped” in seeking their intercession. If there was something that was such a great help for Christians, you would expect to see examples of it and commands to it in Scripture. But God’s Word is silent. Reference is often made to the vision of heaven in Revelation 5:8 where the elders carry golden bowls full of incense which it says, “are the prayers of the saints.” Interestingly, when the content of their prayers is given later in Revelation 6:10, however, no mention is given of them asking God to deliver law students from thunderstorms. Instead, they are praying for God to bring judgment for the persecution they, themselves, have endured.
Catholics often explain that just as Protestants ask fellow saints (on earth) to pray for them, they are just asking fellow saints (in heaven) to pray for them. In Luther’s case, he was doing something different. He didn’t cry out, “Saint Anne, could you ask Jesus to help me?” Instead, the request was made to Anne, herself, as if she had power over the weather. Similarly, the vow was made to her also. And there’s no indication that he prayed to God at all. His patron saint had taken the place that Scripture says should be reserved for God.
Is it fair to suggest that Protestants are doing the same thing when they ask other believers to pray for them? Yes and no. There are people who bring all of their problems to their pastor or their aunt or their Christian friend. They put their faith in them. Their hope is in their prayers. Their confidence is in their counsel. And Jesus meanwhile is a distant reality. The Protestant of whom this is true is very similar to the Catholic who puts their trust in Saint Anne. In Isaiah 42:8, God declares, “I am the LORD; that is my name; my glory I give to no other.” God isn’t glorified when He’s replaced – either by a living saint or a dead one. This is different, though, from a Christian who simply asks other believers to join them in prayer to God. This increases His glory rather than diminishing it. Asking a friend to pray to God for protection from a thunderstorm is different than asking a friend to protect you from a thunderstorm. The former multiplies faith in God, while the latter places faith in your friend.
There’s a similar dynamic in what’s known as the veneration of the saints. When Protestants enter a Catholic Church, they can find it disorienting to see people kneeling before statues of saints. Catholics explain that they are merely venerating the saints not worshipping them. They might appeal to the Latin terms: angels and saints are honoured with “dulia,” Mary is honoured with “hyperdulia,” and God is honoured with “latria.” I wonder, though, how clear these distinctions are in the average Catholic’s mind. John was so overwhelmed by the visions that were revealed to him in Revelation that he fell to his knees in worship. The angel never responded that “latria” was entirely inappropriate for him, but he would certainly appreciate some “dulia.” Instead, he said: “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God” (Revelation 19:10).
The question that Protestants and Catholics need to ask themselves is more fundamental than the distinction between a few Latin words. We all need to examine our hearts and the practice of our faith and ask ourselves, who do I really trust? Where is my hope? What is my focus? Who gets the glory? If your answer is anything other than Jesus, then you need to consider whether you’ve departed from the gospel. Only Jesus saves. Only He’s worthy of glory. Only He’s worthy of our worship. So, let’s give it to Him.
In awe of Him,
Paul