The Art of Overlooked Obviousness

As a Christian, adhering to the teachings of the Gospel is central to my faith. However, when I encountered the Catholic practice of canonizing saints, I began to question its foundation in the Bible. Since coming to Christ and reading the Gospel, I haven’t found any direct mention of a process for declaring individuals as saints. This led me to explore the issue more deeply, asking important questions rather than following teachings without discernment.

Where does this practice come from, and what authority is there for it in the life of the Church? In exploring the history and theology behind the canonization of saints, I aim to reconcile this practice with the biblical teachings I’ve come to know.

I apologize if this offends anyone, but I believe it is our Christian duty to help others recognize and understand falsehoods.

The doctrine claiming that the Pope holds divine authority to canonize saints is rooted in Catholic tradition, and the teaching authority (Magisterium) of the Church. However, this assertion is not without controversy, especially when examined through theological reasoning, Church history, and the nature of divine authority. The argument against this divine authority relies heavily on scripture, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and the historical evolution of the canonization process.

The New Testament does not provide a clear scriptural mandate for any individual, including the Pope, to declare someone a saint. Catholic teaching often refers to the power of the keys given to St. Peter in Matthew 16:19 ("I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven...") as the foundation for papal authority. However, this passage does not specifically mention canonization. Declaring someone a saint implies a recognition of their eternal place in heaven, a realm that belongs to divine authority. The canonization process, with its formal investigations, declarations of sainthood, and papal authority, emerged gradually over the centuries. While the Catholic Church regards canonization as a legitimate development of its authority, neither Christ nor the apostles provide an explicit blueprint for the process in Scripture. Paragraph 828 of the Catechism describes the purpose of canonization but does not cite a biblical mandate establishing the practice itself. It emphasizes the Church’s role in recognizing holiness rather than bestowing sainthood, making it clear that the Church's function is to acknowledge what God has already done.

Historically, the recognition of saints was not governed by a centralized process. In the early centuries of Christianity, holy men and women, particularly martyrs, were often venerated by local churches, with bishops and Christian communities recognizing their reputation for holiness. For centuries this remained a largely local practice. It was not until the twelfth century, under Pope Alexander III, that the right to canonize saints became increasingly reserved to the Roman Pontiff, and later canon law formally centralized the process under the Holy See.

This historical development raises an important question. If a divinely instituted process of canonization had existed from the beginning, one might expect to find a consistent and universal practice stretching back to the apostolic age. Instead, the historical record reveals a gradual evolution from local recognition to papal control. Even the Catholic Encyclopedia acknowledges that for many centuries the veneration of saints was regulated by local authorities before becoming centralized in Rome.

The doctrine of papal infallibility introduces a further question. According to Catholic teaching, the Pope is infallible only under specific conditions when definitively teaching on matters of faith and morals. Yet canonization concerns the declaration that a particular individual is in heaven and worthy of universal veneration. Such a judgment ultimately concerns realities known perfectly only to God.

Moreover, canonization depends upon historical investigations, testimony, and the evaluation of alleged miracles. These are necessarily human processes carried out by fallible investigators examining evidence that may be incomplete or disputed. This raises the question of how certainty is established. If saints were recognized for centuries through local custom, popular devotion, and episcopal approval without a universal process, on what basis can the later centralized system be presented as a divinely guided institution rather than a development of ecclesiastical practice?

The issue is not whether many canonized individuals were genuinely holy. The issue is whether the formal process of canonization itself was instituted by Christ and the apostles, or whether it emerged gradually through centuries of ecclesiastical development. The historical evidence clearly demonstrates the development of the process. Whether that development carries divine authority is the question that remains.

The inconsistency in the canonization process also challenges its supposed divine nature. The criteria for sainthood have varied over the centuries. Requirements for posthumous miracles were formalized later, and early saints were not subject to the same scrutiny as modern candidates. Political and cultural influences have also shaped the canonization process, undermining the notion that it is purely divinely inspired. Joan of Arc’s canonization, influenced by shifting political tides, exemplifies how earthly factors can play a role in these decisions.

Perhaps the most compelling argument against papal canonization is theological: only God knows the true state of a person's soul. While the Church can evaluate external actions, miracles, and testimony, only God has the ultimate knowledge of a person’s heart.

In 1 Samuel 16:7, we are reminded that

“Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

Canonization presumes knowledge of someone’s eternal status, something that lies solely within God’s authority, not human judgment.

The Roman Catholic Church does not have an exact, universally agreed-upon number of saints. Estimates vary because the Church has recognized holy men and women over many centuries, and records from the earliest periods are incomplete. The Roman Martyrology contains more than 10,000 names, although many of these individuals were never canonized through the formal process used today. Some were recognized through local devotion and episcopal approval long before canonization became centralized under the authority of Rome. In modern times, the process involves beatification, extensive investigation, and the verification of alleged miracles. Since the pontificate of Pope John Paul II, the number of canonizations has increased significantly, with hundreds of new saints being added to the Church's official calendar.

Historically, the recognition of saints developed gradually. For many centuries local churches honored individuals believed to have demonstrated exceptional holiness, often without a universal process or papal declaration. This historical development raises an important question: if the modern canonization process is divinely guided, why did the Church function for so long without it?

Many saints are also associated with extraordinary legends and miraculous claims. St. Simeon Stylites reportedly spent thirty-seven years living atop a pillar in Syria as an act of extreme ascetic devotion. St. Christina the Astonishing was said to have returned to life during her funeral and experienced visions of heaven, hell, and purgatory. St. Denis, according to tradition, carried his severed head after martyrdom while continuing to preach.

St. Joseph of Cupertino became famous for reports of levitation during prayer and religious ecstasy. St. Drogo was associated with accounts of bilocation, while St. Polycarp's martyrdom tradition records that flames failed to consume him when he was condemned to be burned alive. Whether these accounts are understood as literal history, pious tradition, or hagiographical embellishment, they illustrate the remarkable stories that have become attached to many canonized figures.

Yet it is noteworthy that some of the most significant figures in biblical history were never canonized through any formal ecclesiastical process. Moses led Israel out of centuries of bondage. Elijah confronted the prophets of Baal. Isaiah foretold the coming of the Messiah. Jeremiah called a nation to repentance. Ezekiel witnessed visions of God's glory and warned of Jerusalem's coming judgment. Their authority rested not upon canonization but upon their calling and commission from God.

Several saints have also become associated with celestial imagery. St. Dominic, for example, is traditionally depicted with a star, stemming from a legend that his mother saw a star in a vision before his birth. The star came to symbolize the spread of his teaching and the influence of the Dominican Order.

The Dominicans would later play a prominent role in the medieval Inquisition. They were frequently entrusted with the investigation and prosecution of suspected heresy and exercised considerable authority in religious courts. This period remains one of the most controversial chapters in Church history. Historical records document the use of interrogation methods, including forms of torture, to obtain confessions or information from the accused. Devices such as the rack, the strappado, and thumb compression instruments became associated with these proceedings. While the extent and frequency of such practices remain subjects of historical debate, the use of coercion in matters of faith continues to raise profound moral and theological questions.

Priests and Torture in the Inquisition.

The Inquisition also led to the persecution and execution of many individuals, often based on flimsy evidence or confessions obtained under duress. The participation of Dominicans in these events has drawn significant historical criticism, particularly regarding their role in the suffering of those accused of heresy.

The Church has never issued a formal apology for its actions during the Inquisition, but it has acknowledged its historical mistakes. Personally, I prefer to refer to these actions for what they are, genocide.

St. Jerome (c. 347–420) St. Jerome is sometimes linked to stars because of his work in translating the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate), which is seen as bringing the "light" of divine wisdom to the world. In art, he is occasionally depicted with a star as a symbol of this intellectual and spiritual illumination.

St. Lucy (c. 283–304) Her name, Lucy, comes from the Latin word lux, meaning "light." - St. Lucy is often associated with light and vision. Though not directly connected to stars, her association with light can be symbolically tied to the idea of stars as sources of light in the heavens. In Scandinavian countries, her feast day on December 13th is celebrated with a "Festival of Lights" during the dark winter months. The most controversial aspect of her story is that she is said to have had her eyes gouged out by the Roman authorities.

The Virgin Mary has long been honored as Stella Maris ("Star of the Sea"), a heavenly guide and protector of those navigating the dangers of life. Yet centuries before the rise of Christianity, Isis was revered throughout the Mediterranean world as "Lady of the Sea" and protectress of sailors. Both figures came to be associated with maternal care, heavenly queenship, protection, and guidance.

This raises a question that historians and theologians continue to debate. Are these similarities merely coincidental, or do they reflect a deeper continuity of religious symbolism? As Christianity spread throughout lands once devoted to Isis, many of the functions, titles, and forms of devotion associated with the ancient goddess appear strikingly similar to those later directed toward Mary.

Did Christian devotion to Mary develop independently from biblical foundations alone, or did it absorb elements already familiar to populations that had long venerated a heavenly mother figure?

While definitive answers remain elusive, the historical parallels are difficult to ignore. Both were associated with queenship, maternal intercession, protection, and guidance. Both became objects of widespread devotion. Both were invoked in times of danger and distress. Whether these similarities reflect continuity, adaptation, or coincidence remains a matter of interpretation, but they continue to provoke important questions about the development of religious devotion across the centuries.

The transformation of her image from a heavenly queen to a nautical guide reflects a curious shift in the focus of her veneration, blending her divine status with a maritime symbolism that seems at odds with her celestial exaltation. In ancient Rome, the star most closely associated with the sea was Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky.

In Egyptian mythology, Sirius was closely linked to Isis and her brother Osiris, the sun god.

St. Francis of Assisi (1181–1226) St. Francis is deeply associated with the natural world, and in his famous Canticle of the Sun, he praises God through various elements of creation, including "Brother Sun" and "Sister Moon and Stars." This reflects his reverence for all of God’s creation, including celestial bodies.

Christmas, celebrated on December 25, is near the winter solstice, marking the shortest day of the year and the beginning of lengthening daylight. This timing aligns with various pre-Christian solstice celebrations that symbolized the rebirth of the sun. The choice of this date may have been influenced by the Roman festival of Saturnalia and the birthday of the Sun God, Sol Invictus.

Epiphany on January 6 commemorates the visit of the Magi, who followed a star to find Jesus. This directly ties to celestial imagery, emphasizing the significance of a guiding star. The celebration of the Magi's visit integrates Christian themes with older festivals celebrating divine manifestations and new light.

The Feast of the Presentation, or Candlemas, is observed on February 2, halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. This timing symbolizes the transition from darkness to light and aligns with ancient festivals like the Roman Lupercalia and the Celtic Imbolc, which celebrated the coming of spring.

Easter, with a variable date, is determined by the first Sunday after the first full moon following the vernal equinox. This method of dating connects the feast to lunar and solar cycles. The timing of Easter also coincides with pre-Christian spring festivals, reflecting themes of renewal and resurrection.

The Feast of the Assumption on August 15 falls around the time of the summer harvest. Although it does not have a direct celestial connection, its date may have been influenced by pre-existing harvest festivals and the Roman Vinalia, which celebrated the fruits of the earth.

The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, celebrated on September 29, is part of the Michaelmas season, marking the beginning of the harvest and the shortening of days. While not directly tied to specific celestial events, this feast was influenced by pre-Christian harvest celebrations and the Roman Vulcanalia.

St. Augustine’s feast on August 28 is near the end of summer, a period of transition in the agricultural calendar. While not directly associated with celestial events, the timing aligns with ancient harvest festivals, reflecting a broader seasonal context. It is striking that even the man who altered God's commandments was canonized as a saint, while the true prophets, whose lives and messages were foundational to faith, were not.

St. John the Baptist’s feast on June 24 coincides with the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. This timing symbolizes light and the gradual decrease in daylight leading up to the winter solstice. The feast aligns with ancient solstice celebrations, such as the Roman Vestalia, honoring the goddess Vesta with fire and light symbolism.

The birth of John the Baptist is documented in the Bible, particularly in the Gospel of Luke. However, historical proof of the exact date of his birth is not available.

Is it just my observation, or does it seem increasingly apparent that there is a connection between assigning historical figures to celestial bodies and their movements? It raises a pressing question: have we been misled for centuries by those who hold religious authority?

Throughout history, many significant figures and events have been linked to celestial phenomena. This practice spans various cultures and religions, from ancient civilizations that aligned their gods (the fallen angels) and rituals with the stars, to modern religious observances that may echo these ancient connections.

It is also worth noting how many popes throughout history emerged from noble, aristocratic, or politically influential families. This was particularly evident during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, when family connections, wealth, and political influence often played a significant role in ecclesiastical advancement and papal elections.

Among them were Pope Leo IX from the Egisheim-Dagsburg family of Alsace;

Pope Urban II from the house of Châtillon in France;

Pope Nicholas III of the powerful Orsini family;

Pope Boniface VIII of the influential Caetani family;

Pope Sixtus IV and Pope Julius II of the della Rovere family;

Pope Alexander VI of the Borgia family;

Pope Leo X and Pope Clement VII of the Medici family;

Pope Paul III of the Farnese family;

Pope Urban VIII of the Barberini family;

Pope Gregory XII of the Venetian Correr family;

Pope Gregory X of the Visconti family of Milan; and many others whose backgrounds were closely connected to the political and social elites of their age.

This observation does not by itself disprove any theological claim concerning the papacy. Noble birth does not automatically invalidate a person's faith, character, or leadership. Nevertheless, the historical pattern raises legitimate questions about the relationship between spiritual authority and worldly power.

The New Testament presents a strikingly different picture of leadership. Christ chose fishermen, laborers, and ordinary men as His apostles. He warned against the pursuit of status and power, teaching that "whoever would be great among you must be your servant" (Matthew 20:26). The apostles repeatedly cautioned believers about the dangers of wealth, ambition, and the love of money.

Against this backdrop, the prominence of aristocratic families within the medieval Church invites reflection. How did an institution founded by a carpenter and led by fishermen become so closely associated with Europe's ruling classes? To what extent did noble families influence the direction of the Church, and how much of ecclesiastical authority became intertwined with political interests?

The issue is not whether every pope from a noble family was corrupt. Many were sincere, capable, and devout men. The question is whether the concentration of spiritual authority within powerful dynasties reflects the pattern established by Christ and the apostles, or whether it reflects the realities of medieval politics and the influence of wealth upon religious institutions.

History demonstrates that the papacy often stood at the intersection of faith, power, and politics. Whether that development represented divine providence, human ambition, or some combination of both remains a question worthy of careful consideration.

This raises an important question. How should Christians view the close relationship that often existed between the papacy, noble families, wealth, and political power? Throughout much of the medieval and Renaissance periods, many popes emerged from influential aristocratic families whose interests extended far beyond spiritual matters. While noble birth does not automatically imply corruption, the historical reality invites reflection on the extent to which worldly power may have shaped ecclesiastical leadership.

Several of the families that produced popes were deeply involved in the political struggles and military conflicts of their age. The Medici family, which produced Popes Leo X and Clement VII, built one of the most powerful banking networks in Europe. Their financial resources enabled them to exert enormous influence over both Church and state, playing a major role in the politics and wars of Renaissance Italy. The Borgia family, from which came Pope Alexander VI, became famous for its involvement in political intrigue, territorial ambitions, and the complex power struggles of the Italian states.

Likewise, the Farnese family, which produced Pope Paul III, was heavily involved in the political and military affairs of its time. The Orsini family, one of the most powerful noble houses in Rome, participated in numerous conflicts and rivalries that shaped both the city and the wider region. These families often operated at the intersection of religion, politics, finance, and warfare, wielding influence that extended far beyond the spiritual sphere.

What makes this particularly interesting is the broader connection between wealth, finance, and political authority. The Medici family began as bankers before becoming rulers, patrons of the arts, and eventually producers of popes. Their rise demonstrated how financial power could translate into political and religious influence. Throughout history, other powerful banking families and financial dynasties have likewise developed close relationships with governments, monarchs, presidents, and political leaders.

The Rothschild family, for example, became one of the most influential banking houses in Europe and maintained relationships with numerous governments during the nineteenth century. J.P. Morgan played a significant role in American finance and frequently interacted with political leaders. The Rockefeller family likewise exercised considerable influence in economic, philanthropic, and political spheres, with members holding prominent public offices and maintaining relationships with world leaders.

None of this proves the existence of a coordinated conspiracy, nor does it automatically invalidate the authority of those who held office. However, it does illustrate a recurring pattern throughout history: wealth, political influence, and institutional power often become closely intertwined.

For Christians, this raises a legitimate question. The apostles who followed Christ were fishermen, laborers, and ordinary men with little worldly status. Jesus repeatedly warned about the dangers of wealth, power, and the pursuit of earthly greatness. Against that backdrop, the prominence of aristocratic dynasties, banking interests, and political influence within the history of the Church invites careful reflection. To what extent did these forces shape the institution, and how closely does that development reflect the model of leadership presented in the New Testament?

The issue is not whether every noble family acted with corrupt motives. The issue is whether an institution claiming apostolic authority can be properly understood without also examining the powerful political, financial, and familial interests that often surrounded it.

Statue of Prometheus at Rockerfeller Center. Behind the statue is the inscription:

"Prometheus, teacher in every art, brought the fire that hath proved to mortals a means to mighty ends."

"And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men, And deceiveth them that dwell on the earth by the means of those miracles which he had power to do..." (Revelation 13:13–14, KJV)

So perhaps the real question is not who secretly controls the world, but how wealth, influence, and power have historically become concentrated within a relatively small number of families and institutions.

The Rothschild family rose to prominence as one of Europe's most influential banking dynasties during the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The Rockefeller family built immense wealth through oil and industry in the United States, while J.P. Morgan became synonymous with American finance and banking. Although they emerged in different eras and circumstances, each family exercised considerable influence within economic, political, and philanthropic spheres.

These families have also played significant roles in public health, education, science, and research. The Rockefeller Foundation, for example, became one of the most influential philanthropic organizations in the world, supporting medical research, public health initiatives, vaccine development, and educational programs. Rockefeller-funded institutions contributed to major advances in medicine, genetics, and biological research. Likewise, major financial institutions linked to families such as the Rothschilds and Morgans have invested in pharmaceutical, biotechnology, and healthcare sectors for many decades.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, pharmaceutical companies generated substantial revenues from vaccine production and distribution. Pfizer, Moderna, AstraZeneca, and Johnson & Johnson became central players in the global response to the crisis. Financial institutions, investment firms, and large-scale investors inevitably held interests across many sectors involved in vaccine research, manufacturing, logistics, and distribution. This reflects the interconnected nature of modern finance, where large institutions frequently have investments spanning healthcare, technology, media, energy, and industry.

The influence of wealthy families and financial institutions is not limited to medicine. Throughout modern history, banking dynasties and large corporations have maintained connections with governments, political leaders, universities, media organizations, and international institutions. These relationships are often entirely legal and public, yet they raise important questions about the concentration of influence within modern society.

Media ownership presents a similar example. Major publishing houses, broadcasting corporations, and news organizations are frequently controlled by large corporations or wealthy individuals. Rupert Murdoch's media empire, for instance, has exerted enormous influence over news and public discourse across several continents. Through corporate acquisitions, publishing companies connected to Christian literature, including Bible publishing, have also become part of larger media conglomerates.

The same pattern can be observed throughout history. The Medici family began as bankers before becoming rulers, patrons of the arts, and producers of multiple popes. Their wealth enabled them to shape politics, culture, philosophy, and religion throughout Renaissance Europe. Members of the family supported scholars engaged in classical learning, Neoplatonism, Hermetic studies, and other intellectual movements that flourished during the Renaissance. Figures associated with the Medici court, including Marsilio Ficino and Pico della Mirandola, explored subjects ranging from philosophy and theology to astrology and ancient esoteric traditions.

Catherine de' Medici's well-documented interest in astrology, including her consultations with Nostradamus, illustrates how mystical and astrological ideas often existed alongside political power. Similar accusations and rumors surrounded other influential families, including the Borgias, although separating fact from political propaganda is often difficult.

The broader historical question remains. Why do wealth, political influence, financial power, religious institutions, media networks, and intellectual movements so often converge around the same circles of influence? History does not necessarily support every conspiracy theory that seeks to explain these connections, but neither does it support the assumption that such networks are insignificant.

 for thy merchants were the great men of the earth; for by thy sorceries were all nations deceived." (Revelation 18:23, KJV)

For Christians, the concern is ultimately spiritual rather than conspiratorial. Scripture repeatedly warns about the corrupting influence of wealth, power, pride, and human ambition. The issue is not whether every wealthy family is engaged in wrongdoing, but whether institutions that accumulate extraordinary influence can remain accountable to the moral principles they claim to uphold.

The challenge is therefore not simply to identify powerful people, but to examine every institution, political, financial, religious, or cultural, in the light of truth. Power has always shaped history. The question is whether it is being used to serve humanity or to serve itself.

Come out of her, my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues." (Revelation 18:4, KJV)