Years ago, in a different place, a real saint of the church died. His fingerprints were everywhere in the building, in some parts, quite literally. There was still a closet named for him with tools he used to maintain the building ordered. He was a teacher and a character, famous around town, like many of the saints we know.

And in the weeks that followed his death, I heard a familiar refrain: “he taught me everything I know.” He wasn’t just the right kind of person: he was the kind everyone seemed to want to be.

And, I want to reiterate, weren’t.

I’m not meaning to insult anyone. Just want to state for the record that they weren’t saints like him. They weren’t like him at all. Which is, considering their own words, ironic.

This man was an inspiration, a teacher, a leader, and in all things, generous. So why was it often so difficult to see this same character in so many of these people?

Saints help us see the right way to live. They inspire and encourage. And we are called to witness that and consider following along.

Saints invite us to see the world differently; to see our part in the world differently; to see our responsibility to creation differently. And then it is our choice to be changed by it. Not just to accept the invitation, but to become new in light of it.

To follow, like them. In more ways than one.