A Litany for Creative Souls

Alex (00:10.35)
Hello and welcome back to The Creative Catholics, a podcast on creativity, faith, and the hidden life. Before we begin, I want to say a huge thank you to Marie Miller for letting us use her music for the intro and outro. I also want to thank Riverside that sponsored this episode. If you are interested in recording or editing audio files or getting a transcript from an audiophile, please check out Riverside in the show notes and in the description below. So there is something that I have always loved. We don't have to walk
Through this life alone. And I don't just mean that in the obvious sense. You know, we have Christ, we have the church. And of course, we have our families and our friends, you know, the people that God has actually placed around us. But we also have this extraordinary company of people who have gone before us who are now in heaven, right? The saints. And sometimes I think.
We can have a slightly strange relationship with the saints, right? We put them on holy cards or we put their statues in churches and we celebrate their feast days and we learn their stories and all of that is very, very good. But sometimes we forget something rather astonishing, which is that they've lived and they are still alive in heaven. They're not simply historical figures whose lives we admire, but they are our brothers and sisters in Christ, and they are meant to be our friends.
On this journey. And I think this is particularly important when we are talking about creativity, because creativity can be a very lonely thing. Whether you're a writer or a musician or an artist or a photographer, really anybody who has the persistent need to make something beautiful, there can be a very strange vulnerability in creating, right? You have an idea.
And you make something, but then almost immediately the questions start: is it any good? You know, does it matter? Does anybody care? Or am I wasting my time? Am I being self-indulgent? This one is huge for me because I am the person that always loves to be making something. I'm constantly having ideas about books I could be writing or embroidery patterns that I could be doing or knitting projects. And I do wonder sometimes: am I being self-indulgent? You know, I'm a mother of five.
Alex (02:28.322)
Do I have time for this? And then the next question is always am I doing this for God? And I think that's why creative people need saints, not saints as decoration, but saints as companions, saints who understand our particular temperament, saints who understand work and failure and obscurity and beauty, saints who understand the temptation to give up. Or for me especially, saints who understand the temptation to pride, because
I have noticed, particularly myself, that pride is something that I actively have to fight against constantly. But we also need saints who can remind us that our creativity doesn't have to be separated from our holiness. So today, I want to talk about something that I'm calling a litany for creative souls. And I want to begin with a little advice from one of my favorite spiritual writers, St. Francis Caesar.
I feel like by the time you maybe finish season one, you'll have read all of St. Francis de Sale just through this podcast. But St. Francis de Sale wrote his Introduction to the Devout Life in the early 17th century. But there is something wonderfully contemporary about his understanding of holiness. He was deeply opposed to this idea that there's only one kind of holy person. He understood that God doesn't make us all the same.
Right? Our personalities are different. Our circumstances are different. Our vocations are different. Our responsibilities are different. And therefore, the way holiness looks in each of us will be different too. So in other words, God isn't asking you to become somebody else. He's asking you to become holy as you. And that matters enormously when we think about the saints, because we can sometimes look at a saint and think, well, of course they're a saint, look at them. But then we look at ourselves and we think, but I'm not like that.
Right. And Francis de So wants to interrupt that thought. He wants us to look more closely because the saints had personalities. They had weaknesses. I mean, they had particular gifts, but they had particular temptations as well. They had particular kinds of work. They were each doing something different. They had relationships, they had disappointments, they had things that they were good at and they had things that they weren't good at. But each of them had to learn how to love God.
Alex (04:48.212)
In the circumstances in which God had actually placed them, through their lives, they became saints. And Francis gives us some particularly beautiful advice about choosing our saintly companions. He says, choose certain particular saints whose lives you can best appreciate and imitate, and in whose intercession you may have particular confidence. And I love this because notice what he isn't saying, right? He doesn't say.
Choose the most impressive saints or the most famous saints. And he doesn't even say choose the saints who have achieved the most extraordinary things, but he says choose the saints whose lives you can appreciate and imitate. Choose the saints whose intercession you can have particular confidence in. And in other words, he's basically saying find your people. Find the saints who make you think, I get that. Find the saints whose temperament makes sense to you or
The saint whose struggles look a bit like your own struggles. Or find the saint whose work makes you think differently about your own work. Find the saint who seems to understand the particular road you're walking and then become their close friend. And this is the idea behind a personal litany. A personal litany isn't about creating a better or more interesting list of saints. It's about creating a relationship with the communion of saints that's personal to you.
And for creative people, I think that can be especially powerful because creativity is so deeply connected to the particular person God has made us to be. So I thought it'd be fun today to explore some of the saints we might want to invite into our creative lives and into our personal litanies. Not because these are the only saints who can help creative people, and certainly not because we can reduce saints to patron saints of particular professions, but because each of these people
Each of these saints gives us a different window into what it might mean to create, work, imagine, communicate, or make beautiful things with God. So let's start. And what I'll do is I'll make markers into the groups. So if you're feeling pulled to a particular group, go ahead and fast forward to that marker if you want. But otherwise, just listen through, see which saints you kind of align with or that you can identify with. But I'm gonna have a particular note at the end about.
Alex (07:08.078)
Creating your own litany about the personal saints that you that you choose. So for the writers and the poets, if you're a writer or a poet or somebody who works with words, I think one of the first saints you might want beside you is Saint John of the Cross. Now, John of the Cross was a mystic, a priest, he was a Carmelite, and one of the great poets of the Christian tradition. And what I find so interesting about Saint John of the Cross is that his poetry comes out of a profound experience of God.
That cannot easily be explained. He's trying to put into words something that is ultimately beyond words. and isn't that one of the great problems and privileges of writing? That we are constantly trying to make language carry something that feels bigger than words. We want our words to carry a feeling or a memory or an experience or a truth or or a glimpse of beauty, a mystery.
And St. John of the Cross reminds us that words can become a vessel for mystery, but he also reminds us that sometimes the writer has to accept the limits of words. You cannot control how another person receives what you've written. You cannot make somebody understand what you meant. You cannot force a reader to see what you saw. You can only offer the work and then let it go. So I think St. John of the Cross.
is a wonderful companion for the writer who is learning to surrender their words. And then there's also Saint Therese of Lesoux. Therese is one of those saints who can be misunderstood if we only reduce her to quote unquote sweetness. Because underneath that gentle exterior was a woman with an extraordinarily serious understanding of love. She understood that small things could become acts of great love. And that matters for writers because most creative work is not dramatic.
It's sitting down again, writing the next paragraph, editing the sentence, beginning the chapter, writing something that nobody may ever read. Terez can remind the writer that the hidden work is still very much real work. The tiny act of love is still love. The unnoticed sentence can still be offered to God. So to me, Terez is great for writers, maybe just starting out, recognizing the importance of writing every day. And it doesn't matter.
Alex (09:29.196)
Whether those pages make it into the final cut or not, it's the act, it's the commitment, the recognition of the hidden work. And then there's St. Augustine, not because he was a professional writer in the modern sense, but because he understood the power of language to tell the truth about a human life. His confessions is extraordinary partly because he isn't afraid to tell the truth. He tells God about his desires and his failures and his restlessness.
and his memories and his conversion. For any writer tempted to produce something polished, Augustine is a wonderful friend because he reminds us, tell the truth. Not everything, not indiscriminately, but tell the truth that God is asking you to tell. So writers, perhaps your little group of heavenly friends might include Saint John of the Cross, Saint Theresa Lesou, or Saint Augustine. Now
For the visual artist, if you are a painter or an illustrator or a sculptor or an iconographer or designer, somebody who works with images, there is an obvious saint who belongs near you, which is Saint Luke. Because tradition has long associated Luke with painting and particularly with images of the Virgin Mary. So whether or not every detail of those traditions can be established historically, the association itself has become deeply woven into Christian art. And Luke
It gives us something beautiful to think about. The Christian faith is not afraid of images because God became visible. The invisible God took on a human face. The word became flesh. So Christianity is an incarnational religion, and that means that matter matters, color matters, form matters, and beauty matters. But it shows us that the physical world can point beyond itself.
And for the visual artist, that is an enormous theological invitation. You don't have to apologize for beauty. You simply have to ask what your beauty is pointing towards. And then there's Fra Angelico. Now, Fra Angelico is a blessed, he's not yet a saint, but he is perhaps one of the most beautiful examples of an artist whose work and prayer were profoundly intertwined. He painted sacred images, particularly frescoes, and his art
Alex (11:53.26)
was not simply something he did after his prayer, the work itself became prayer. And I think that is a beautiful question for any artist. Could the making itself become a form of prayer? Could the attention required to really see something become a form of prayer? And Fra Angelico invites us to consider that perhaps holiness isn't something we add to our creative work afterwards. Perhaps we can encounter God in the very act of paying attention. And lastly, for the visual artist,
Saint Catherine of Bologna, who was herself an artist and an illuminator as well as a religious sister, and she reminds us that creativity doesn't have to be the opposite of a life of prayer. You can make things and pray. You can study, you can develop a craft, you can care about beauty, and you can belong completely to God. So if you're a visual artist, please check out one or all of these saints if their lives are speaking to you. Now, for the musicians, of course, the front runner we have Saint Cecilia.
And I think sometimes we reduce Cecilia to a name that we see on a lot of music programs, but the deeper image is much more interesting. Music is one of those art forms that can bypass our rational defenses. A piece of music can make us remember something we thought we'd forgotten. It can make us cry without explaining why. I mean, just the other day we were driving and I was listening to a new song to me. It was called Don't Stop Praying.
And there was one line in particular that as I kind of sang along with the song, it actually made me choke up because it was the image that that line evoked. I'm actually getting a bit choked up now thinking about it. But music can make a room feel different. It can draw people together. And that's a powerful thing. So perhaps the musician needs to ask, what am I doing with this power? Am I using it to turn attention towards myself? Or can I use it to make room for something greater?
And another saint that we have for musicians in particular is Saint Hildegard of Bingen. Now, Hildegard actually is almost ridiculously inspiring if you're a creative person at all. Because she was a mystic, an abbess, a theologian, a writer, a composer, a poet, a naturalist, and a visionary. And she refused to live in a tiny category. And I think creative people sometimes we need permission to do that, but very much relate to this to this idea.
Alex (14:16.63)
Maybe you're not just into one thing. If you're like me at all, you're a bit of a creative dabbler. So maybe your creativity moves between disciplines. Maybe you write and paint, or you sing and make films, or you design and you cook. Maybe you've spent years thinking that you need to pick one identity because the world likes tidy categories. But Hildegard probably gently say, perhaps God made you expansive for a reason. So I think everybody, not just musicians, but every
Creative person should look at Saint Hildegard and see if she is somebody that they should include in their litany. And then lastly, for musicians, there's King David. He was a musician, a poet, a worshiper. He was a man of extraordinary gifts and extraordinary failures. I mean, my goodness. I was reading first and second Samuel this past week, and man, David, there's a lot going on there. But the Psalms gives us perhaps the greatest, what would you say?
Permission slip, maybe, in the Christian tradition for bringing our entire emotional life into art. Joy, grief, anger, longing, fear, praise, despair, hope. David shows us that creative expression doesn't have to pretend that we're fine. It can become a way of bringing the whole truth of ourselves before God. Now, for my actors and performers,
If you're an actor or a performer or someone who lives through performance, I would introduce you to St. Genessius. He is traditionally honored as the patron saint of actors. And I first learned of St. Genessius when I was writing my dissertation for my PhD on the Catholic Stage Guild of Ireland. And in and of itself, it is a fascinating story. And I'll tell you about the Catholic Stage Guild in another episode. But for one part of their history, they gave out annual awards.
And the award for acting was a statue of Saint Genesius. So when I was doing my dissertation, I looked him up, and the story associated with him is extraordinary. So Genesius was an actor during the Roman Empire, in the third century. And in one of the performances, he was openly mocking the Catholic faith. But during that performance, he had a massive conversion of his soul and refused to continue with the performance, and he was converted and was eventually martyred.
Alex (16:39.106)
By the Emperor Diocletian. So whether we focus on the historical details or on the long Christian tradition surrounding him, there is something wonderfully appropriate here. The actor understands something about inhabiting another person's story. And perhaps that can become a sort of spiritual discipline. What happens when you spend your life learning to see the world from another person's perspective? What happens when you practice compassion?
through imagination. And I could go into a whole lecture on this, since this was my bread and butter for nearly two decades, but we'll save that for another episode. But the performer also has a particular temptation. The applause, the gaze of the audience, the hunger to be seen. And that is why I think St. Philip Neary might also make a wonderful companion for performers. Because Philip had an extraordinary gift for joy.
He was playful. He loved people, but he was deeply suspicious of spiritual vanity. He understood how easily we can become attached to being admired. So for a performer, that is a very particular challenge. Can I receive applause without needing it? Can I perform beautifully without making the beauty about myself? Can I stand in front of people and still remember that my identity doesn't come from their response?
That's a question worth taking to prayer. Now, for filmmakers, photographers, and storytellers, for filmmakers and photographers, I would begin with Saint Veronica. Now, the tradition of Veronica and the Veil is, of course, surrounded by history and by devotion, right? It's the face of Jesus. But the image that is on the veil is extraordinary. And the piece of history, I think, really tells us why we can lean on Saint Veronica.
As photographers or storytellers. So a woman, Veronica, sees Christ walking to Calvary. She sees his suffering. And she does the most compassionate thing she can think of in the moment. She wipes his face. She cleans his face with her veil so that he can see. He has blood, he has sweat, dirt all dripping down his face. If you ever had sweat go into your eyes, you know that it stings. Blood would
Alex (19:04.492)
Obviously obscure vision, and so she cleans his face with her veil so that he can see. For a photographer or a filmmaker or a visual storyteller, there is something deeply moving here. What do you choose to look at? What do you choose to preserve? Whose face do you want to make visible? Whose story do you want to tell? What suffering do you refuse to look away from?
And what beauty do you notice that everyone else has walked past? And then how can you use your own veil to clear the eyes of others to see the truth? Now, I would also, for filmmakers, photographers, storytellers, I would also invite St. Carlo Acutis into the conversation because Carlo is especially interesting for a generation of digital creatives because he understood technology as something that could be placed at the service of evangelization.
He didn't become a saint because he knew how to use a computer. He was holy because he loved Christ. But he also recognized that the tools available to him could be used for something good. And that gives us a very contemporary question. What are we doing with the tools, especially the technical tools that we've been given? Cameras, laptops, editing software, but also social media accounts, your platform, your ability to communicate. Technology itself doesn't make our work holy.
But our intention, our love, and what we choose to communicate can transform the way we use it. For designers and makers and craftspeople, if you make things with your hands, I want to give you Saint Joseph, this one almost feels too obvious. And yet perhaps that is exactly why we need him, because Joseph worked. He made things, he practiced a craft, he knew what it meant to spend years doing work that was probably not going to receive public recognition.
And he did it faithfully. There's something profoundly Christian in that. We live in a culture obsessed with visibility. But Joseph gives us a spirituality of hidden work. You can make something excellent, and nobody may know that you made it. A few weeks ago, we talked about this in the episode on St. Joseph's staircase. You can spend hours on a detail that another person will never probably notice. You can become extraordinarily good at something that may never make you famous, and it can still be holy work.
Alex (21:29.774)
But I would also suggest Saint Dunstan, who is traditionally associated with metalworking and craftsmanship, his life reminds us that craftsmanship is not simply about producing an object. It's about formation. The maker is being formed while the thing is being made. Patience, attention, precision, humility, perseverance, and perhaps that is one of the greatest secrets of creative work, that the thing you're making is also shaping you.
So for those who create through food or hospitality and beauty, perhaps you don't necessarily think of yourself as an artist at all. Perhaps your creativity happens in a kitchen or around a table or through hospitality. We talked about one type of this creativity in the episode with Adele Collins. But for you, I might suggest Saint Martha. Now Martha is often remembered because of the gospel story in which she is busy serving while Mary sits at Jesus' feet. And I think sometimes
We've been too quick to turn Martha into a warning about being too busy. But Martha is also the person who welcomes Christ into her home. She feeds people. She serves. She creates a place of hospitality. She creates a place that Jesus feels he can rest. John 12 starts out by telling us: six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served.
And Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Now, this is approximately six days before he was to be crucified. Jesus came to their house and Martha served him. And there is creativity and holiness in that. There is art in making a meal. There is art in arranging a table. There's art in making another person feel that there's room for them, that they can be safe and comfortable there. There is art in hospitality, and perhaps
Martha can teach us that holiness doesn't always look contemplated from the outside. Sometimes holiness can look like chopping onions. But then I'd also suggest for you Saint Lawrence. Traditionally, Saint Lawrence is associated with cooks and chefs. And so for those who haven't heard his martyrdom story, he was a Roman deacon during Emperor Valerian's rule, and he was burned alive on a metal gridiron. Not nice. And tradition says that at one point
Alex (23:53.602)
He looked to his executioner and he said cheerfully, turn me over, I'm done on this side. So ever since then, he's been associated with chefs and cooks, but it reminds us that food can become joyfulness, cheerfulness, generosity, and love. Now, for the creative entrepreneur, perhaps you don't necessarily see yourself as creative, quote unquote. You know, you sell, you run businesses, you freelance, you commission work, you negotiate contracts, manage clients.
Build brands, employ people, but you've somehow discovered that being creative can also involve a spreadsheet. And if that is you, I have two saints to suggest to you. First again, Saint Joseph, because work is work, and because providing for others is holy work. But also I want to suggest Saint Homobonis. He's a fascinating patron, actually, for business people, because he was a successful layman and merchant who lived his faith in the ordinary world of commerce.
And this matters because sometimes Christians can imagine that the spiritual life happens over here and business happens over there. But Francisale would strongly resist that separation. The whole point of his book is that devotion belongs in your actual life, in your work, your home, your relationships, your responsibilities, your vocation. So if your creative work is also your livelihood, you don't need to become less professional.
In order to become more holy, you just need to become more loving, more honest, more generous, more just, but also importantly, more detached from success from a pride perspective. And instead more willing to ask, what does God want me to do with this business? Now, if you're listening and you're thinking, well, none of those are really me, good, because I don't want this episode to become another personality test, even though I love personality tests.
This is not what this episode is about. The saints aren't categories, and your creativity doesn't have to fit neatly into one. Perhaps you're the person who writes poetry in the margins of your notebook, but would never call yourself a poet. Or perhaps you make beautiful meals for your family, or you restore old furniture, or you sing when nobody's listening. Or perhaps you tell stories to your children, or you simply have a deep instinct for beauty. You don't need permission from the world.
Alex (26:20.002)
call that creative. And you don't need a professional title before you can bring that creativity to God. Holiness is personal. God doesn't flatten us into a generic Christian. He takes the particular person that he has created and he invites that person into relationship with him. And that means that your saintly friendships can be particular too. Perhaps Saint Cecilia speaks to you, or perhaps she doesn't, or perhaps Saint Joseph is the saint you need. Now I would argue
As a side note, that I think St. Joseph is one of the saints that we all need, but that's just me. But perhaps you're feeling more drawn to Saint Genesius than to Saint Philip Neri. Or perhaps it's somebody that we haven't even mentioned today, and that's okay. What I'm talking about today is more of a practical suggestion or method based on St. Francis Sales prompting. Look for the saints whose lives you can appreciate. Look for the saints you can imitate. Look for the saints.
whose intercession gives you confidence and find the ones whose lives make something in you wake up. And perhaps over time you will discover that your own personal litany begins to form. Not necessarily something written in a book, but something written in your heart, in your soul. Maybe there is the saint you turn to when you're afraid, or the saint you turn to when you're procrastinating, or the saint you turn to when you're tempted by vanity or you're exhausted.
Maybe there's a saint you turn to when nobody seems to notice your work or you. Or maybe there's a saint you turn to when you have been praised and need to remember where the gift came from. And maybe that's what a litany for creative souls really is. Not a list of people who happen to be artists and are now saints, but a community of friends in heaven who accompany us in becoming the particular person God created us to be. So here's my invitation to you.
Don't just listen to this episode and think, that's interesting. I should remember St. Hildegard. Instead, I really want you to choose. Choose two or three saints at the beginning. Maybe start with your baptismal patron. Or maybe choose someone whose creative life resembles yours or someone whose struggles resemble yours. Maybe choose someone who has a virtue that you desperately need to work on. Read their life. Learn their story. Look at their work. Read their words and talk to them. Ask them to pray for you. And especially.
Alex (28:44.938)
Ask them to help you become holy without becoming somebody else, because that is the extraordinary thing about the saints. They don't make us copies of them. They help us become more fully ourselves in Christ. So perhaps before we finish, take a moment to think of the saints you already know, your baptismal saint, the saint whose feast day you always notice, or the saint whose image you keep somewhere, and then ask, who's missing? Who's the saint I need as a friend?
Who understands the way God has made me? Who can teach me how to use my gifts well? Who can teach me to keep creating when the work is hidden? Who can help me offer my creativity back to the one who gave it to me? And your litany begins there, not with a perfect list, just with a few names, a few friends, a few people already standing in the presence of God praying for you. And perhaps the next time you sit down to make something, to write, or to paint or to tell a story, you might remember I'm not creating alone.
There are friends in heaven who have gone before me and they're praying for me. Saint Francis Ail, pray for us. Saint Joseph, pray for us. Saint Luke, pray for us. Saint John of the Cross, pray for us. Saint Therese of LaSue, pray for us. Saint Augustine, pray for us. Frau Angelico, pray for us. Saint Catherine of Bologna, pray for us. Saint Cecilia, pray for us. Saint Hildegard of Binjin, pray for us. King David, pray.
Pray for us. Saint Genesius, pray for us. Saint Philip Neary, pray for us. Saint Veronica, pray for us. Saint Carlo Cutis, pray for us. Saint Dunstan, pray for us. Saint Martha, pray for us. Saint Homo Bonus, pray for us. And all you saints of God, pray for us. Amen. Until next time, stay creative and keep making what matters most.