There was nothing more stressful about my Confirmation Journey than choosing a saint. After all, I was choosing my own name in the Catholic Church. I believed that whoever I chose would permanently define who I was to anyone who asked. I also wanted to find I saint that I could pray to for strength in my daily life. Needless to say, I was frustrated when I asked my father who his confirmation saint was, “Oh I don’t know, James, Jack, or John or something”, he replied. It was John. “Why did you choose John?” I asked. He speculated, “Probably was at the top of the list.”
My full name is Nathaniel Michael. Michael was a middle name that has run through my family for generations. Perhaps St. Michael the Archangel was my man, except he was never man. He’s an angel. And St. Nathaniel’s story didn’t stand out to me.
Four years ago I was frantically researching saints as the deadline to submit my saint name on the google form was quickly approaching. I was skimming through articles with lists of saints that the bishop would have trouble pronouncing: St. Kateri Tekakwitha (Tek ka Qui ta), St. Quadragesimus (Qua drag E see mus), and St. Alphonsa Muttathupadathu (Mutt tat tu pa da tu) until I read about St. Longinus (Lawn G Noos).
When we read the Passion each Palm Sunday, you might remember the part when the centurion who pierced Jesus in his side on the cross finally exclaimed, "Indeed, this was the Son of God!" St. Longinus was nearly blind, but when the blood and water came out from the side of Christ and landed on his face, instead of being totally grossed out, he regained his vision. He left the army, desperate to repent for what he had done. After approaching the apostles, he converted and joined the brotherhood in Cappadocia. Despite being arrested and having his teeth pulled and tongue cut, he was blessed to continue to speak clearly. For destroying several false idols in front of the Governor, he was beheaded. His lance is at St. Peter’s Basilica.
St. Longinus’s story is important to me because it proves that no matter how badly you messed up, you can be redeemed. He’s certainly a controversial individual, but I look up to him because he was able to change his mind and work for what was right. It’s also neat that he is present in scripture. Hearing "Indeed, this was the Son of God!" on Palm Sunday is nothing short of a divine personal connection and a reminder of my Saint's redeeming relationship with the Lord.