When I was young, I was given St. Jude as my patron saint. Then years later, I found out that he is the patron saint of lost causes and hopeless cases . . . hmmmm; did someone back then have a "prophetic moment"? No Saint could be more fitting for me; really. I was indeed the lost cause. I was never exactly a "rabid anti-Catholic" like many of those in the circles I used to frequent, but I did point out my disagreements with the Catholic Church more than once. Of late, I have often taken solace in Paul's assertion that he persecuted God's Church in "ignorance" for that was my experience also. Whenever I spoke against Catholicism it was (I know now, but did not know back then) all based on errant views of what Catholicism is.
So, when I was about seven years old and we were attending Mass less than annually, St. Jude was praying for me. When I was in my early teens and falling into various worldly habits, St. Jude was praying for me. When I arrived at my middle teens and was being led into all kinds of heretical ideas, St. Jude was praying for me. When I was in my late teens and getting into some quite unholy behaviors (those were the years I gave my guardian angel an ulcer), St. Jude was praying for me. When I found my way into Protestant Churches and was imbibing various errors, St. Jude was praying for me. About this point in time, most people would have given up on me ever coming back to the Catholic Church. When I started reading the Church fathers, St. Jude was (really) praying for me. When I started rejecting core Protestant doctrines, St. Jude was (really intensely) praying for me. Now that I am in process to come home to Mother Church, I know that "the prayers of a righteous man availeth much" and that St. Jude was indeed the right Saint to be given watch over me (whether anyone back then knew what they were doing or not). His statue now sits on my desk as a constant reminder of what he did and is still doing.
Some of my former colleagues in Protestant denominations would scoff at me and say that I was never "really and truly" saved, and that this proves it because I fell away. They would also tell me that no saint in Heaven has any idea what is going on down here on Earth. The perspective of the saints in Heaven is certainly not one of those things that you can quantify or examine under a microscope. Science is completely unfit for the task of examining spiritual reality; its limitations are even worse in this area than in others. Yet, that fateful day when I read that I was "compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses" who were watching me "run . . . the race that is set before" me (Heb 12:1), I asked myself: "Are these saints really witnesses to what I am doing?"
The list of saints in Hebrews 11 is a list of people whose deeds were seen (by God and men) to be faithful so they "obtained a good report" (Heb 11:39; which uses the verbal form of the same noun for "witness" in Heb 12:1). Then the author says next that we are surrounded by witnesses. His whole point is to say, "here are faithful men and women whose works were seen as righteous, and they are now watching you in your struggle to see whether your works will also be righteous." Things must be confirmed by two or three witnesses, yet we are surrounded by a multitude of witnesses. These "saints departed this life in [God's] faith and fear" are watching what we are doing. How are they able to see us? I do not know. We apparently do not need to know or we would have been told; we only need to accept that God says it happens.
They are not just watching us though. They are also hearing our prayers and praying for us. This is what we are told in the most extensive biblical description of Heaven after the Resurrection of Christ. In the book of Revelation, John says that the "beasts and elders" in Heaven receive our prayers and take part in offering them to God (Rev 5:8; cf. 8:3). St. Jude is one of those who was witnessing me and praying. He never gave up. Now when I ask him to pray for me and my family, I am confident that he is doing so. On this week when we recognize the feast of Corpus Christi, it is quite fitting for us to think of those with whom we have communion in Heaven. It is important to remember that everything we are doing in entering the Ordinariates is for the sake of communion. The preservation of our Anglican heritage is not for our sake alone, but for the sake of the Kingdom of God. Why are we going through these struggles? It is for the sake of that most blessed of gifts; the Holy Sacrament of the Altar. It is for the glory of Christ and for the conversion of the lost that they too make partake of His very body and blood. This is what the "witnesses in Heaven" are praying for and it is what we should be praying for also.
Who is witnessing how we are behaving right now? The list of names is longer than I have room for here. As the Ordinariates are being established throughout the world, we need to be praying and have others praying for us. I know St. Jude would be joyful to have the Ordinariate succeed, but he is not exactly the expected patron saint for the Ordinariates. The Ordinariates are not a "lost cause" or a "hopeless case" regardless of what many nay-sayers have been hoping for (although St. Jude may very well be praying for them!). Whether it be Blessed John Henry Newman, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, or Our Lady of the Atonement, they are members of that very same cloud of witnesses. They long to see the growth of the Anglican heritage within the Catholic Church, and it is their voices that are being lifted up onto the altar of God along with ours as a sweet incense. They are the "spirits of just men made perfect" (Heb 12:23) whose presence we enter during every liturgy. Let us take heart in knowing that whatever challenges lie in our path, whatever delays may occur, and whatever confusion we may have, that there is an innumerable company of the "souls of the faithful departed" who continually behold the face of our Lord Jesus Christ and are petitioning Him for our good, both today and forever.
Related posts:
Watching the TailWatching Father Chris Phillips on EWTNWatching Fr. Phillips on The Journey HomeOrdinariate Prayers from Bishop Peter ElliottPraying for the Pope
I am a priest in the Anglican Church in America (TAC). I have served as pastor in various Protestant congregations, and have pretty much "seen it all". I was born into a family of lapsed Catholics. They had me baptized, but before long they gave up the whole thing altogether and ended up trying out the "new age" movement. When I got to my teen years I stumbled around in various evangelical circles for a while, but when I finally went to seminary (my early twenties), I was a "hard as nails" Baptist. After one pastor got me to start reading the Church Fathers (the best "mistake" a Baptist can ever make), I began to realize that I couldn't find my own personal theology in the Early Church. That really bothered me, because I believed that we should agree with the Church Fathers. I got married to my wonderful wife back in 1990 when we were both Baptists, and she has followed me through this long journey with beautiful patience and love. We currently have five children and homeschool all of them. I've been through a wide section of Protestantism. From Baptist, to reformed Baptist, to Presbyterian, to reformed Presbyterian, to high Church puritan, to Presbyterianglican, to evangelical Anglican, and finally to Anglo-Catholic. I've pastored Baptist churches, Presbyterian churches, and a parish in the Reformed Episcopal Church, and have fifteen years experience in all the best (and worst) of Protestant church life. After all this, I now find it quite ironic that the Lord is calling me back to the faith from which I was "kidnapped" as a child. Back then I did not know what it meant to be Catholic, because I was never taught; but now that I do know, I am committed to returning. I am deeply thankful for the beauties of Anglican spirituality, for it was through it that I found my way back home. 
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