What's the big deal about relics?

According to a report from the Boston Globe, a relic of the True Cross was stolen from Holy Cross Cathedral in Boston on the night of June 30th. The relic had been in the diocese since the late 18th century and belonged to the first bishop of Boston, Rev. Jean-Louis Lefebvre de Cheverus. Housed in a small reliquary at the base of a crucifix in the Church's Eucharistic Adoration chapel (pictured left), the reliquary had been pried open and the relic removed.

I was shocked to see this story as a major headline on CNN.com. I'm sure for many the word "relic" was of no general interest, as most people (to the shame of us Catholics) are completely unaware of the rich traditions surrounding relics in the Church. For all those unfamiliar with the Church's beliefs concerning relics, the brief explanations given by the Archdiocese of Boston certainly helped to emphasize the tragedy of the event. But, as I'll explain, the tragedy is hardly an insurmountable one.

Here's my angle:

Using Catholic Churchspeak, relics are physical objects that once belonged to--or were closely associated with--Jesus or the Saints and, as such, are used as aids in prayer and contemplation. In other words they are "sacramentals," physical signs that, while not Sacraments proper, help the faithful to grow in the life of Grace.

But to say that relics are a purely Catholic phenomenon is to do them an injustice, I think. The use of relics is a human phenomenon, and if we don't understand this human element first, how can we possibly understand how they work when "baptized" by Christianity? It's easy to dismiss them as being unimportant and trivial if we can simply compartmentalize them as "religious things," as if they have no relation whatsoever to regular, human life. But when we recognize that "relics" are a part of how we interact with the world and with how we connect to our past, their "elevation" into the religious sphere of our life becomes comprehensible and thoroughly reasonable.

Look around the room that you're in right now. I'm sure that you're surrounded by mementos: seashells from your last trip to the beach; photos of loved ones alive or dead; souvenirs, keepsakes and gifts. I know from where I'm sitting I can see a picture of my family and me on a boat in Poland, a large empty bottle of Red Cat wine and a worn old Frisbee. And while I don't claim that those objects have any sort of "energy" or "power" in-and-of-themselves, I am very comfortable saying that each of them has the power to evoke a strong bond with my past. The ability to have them, to hold them, or even to gaze at them from afar creates a palpable link with those events and people. Are we completely disconnected from our past without them? Absolutely not. But it's wonderful to have them. Our fascination with photos, museums and archaeology are just a few examples of our obsession with, well, "relics." And if we understand this aspect of our humanity, the Catholic Church's understanding of relics is cast in a much more reasonable light.

I own a relic. I have a piece of one of Mother Theresa of Calcutta's veils. (Pictured on the right: the little white circle to the left of my finger.) And while I never had the opportunity to meet the woman, I can tell you that simply having a piece of one of her garments makes her feel significantly closer to me than if I did not. And that emotive response is something familiar from the experience of any memento. Its physical presence (its look, its feel, its smell, etc.) evokes in us a deeper understanding that places us in a much closer relationship with the reality it represents. For all Christians, this close relationship really becomes even closer. We believe that when we are Baptized, we become members of the Body of Christ. That is, we share in a loving, living communion that stretches through time and space, and even beyond the threshold of death. So for the Catholic woman clutching her relic of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, she not only feels closer to St. Thérèse, she mysteriously is closer. Like any beloved memento, Catholic relics are safeguarded and venerated for their ability to link us to these real, physical Champions of the Faith who 'ran the race' and 'fought the good fight,' years before we did.

But relics of the True Cross bring us into near-physical contact with the Savior Himself. The True Cross is, tradition holds, THE cross on which Christ was crucified. St. Helena (d. 330), Constantine's mother, was given a vision that compelled her to travel to the Holy Land and to discover the Cross of Christ. A piece of the cross remained in Jerusalem in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher (first commissioned by St. Helena) and the rest brought to Constantine in Constantinople. Through history the Cross was divided throughout Christendom, with at least one piece making its way to Boston in the 18th Century.

The small slivers of wood purportedly from The Cross are powerful mementos of an historical event that took place nearly two millenia ago. To those who desire it, relics of the True Cross bring them to that moment in time when God died, and death with Him. And because Christians believe that His body was raised triumphantly from death, drawing close to the cross on which He died is almost as good as it gets. 

All the stories report that the parishioners are not only praying for the relic's return, but are also praying for the one(s) who stole it. In this video story from CNN, I think Sr. Claire O'Rourke beautifully encapsulates an authentic Catholic response to the entire tragedy:

"We forgive people who do things like this. As long as they didn't touch the Blessed Sacrament, that is of essence to us. That's the Real Presence, and that's why we come to Mass."

That's why even relics of the True Cross are only "almost" as good as it gets. Relics, like those photos of loved ones, are not the people they represent. While they can be lost, stolen or destroyed, the person--or at least their memory--lives on. But for Catholics especially, Christ becomes truly, physically present in the consecrated bread and wine at Mass. The celebration of the Eucharist isn't merely a memento, it's quite literally a re-presentation of Christ and His loving sacrifice. He becomes total, personal, physical Presence. When Catholics receive the Eucharist, we are not making "near-physical" contact with the Lord, but genuine physical contact. The mementos are only there to help us better appreciate that Reality!

But the upshot is this: "relics" and mementos are important because they allow more than just our minds to make contact with the past. They facilitate a deeper emotional bond with people and places removed from us in either time or space. It is absolutely a tragedy that the people of Holy Cross and the Archdiocese of Boston have had such a precious relic stolen from their church. But while His cross might be missing, they've still got Christ. And that, in the end, is all that matters.