Tag: saints

Saint Birinus: Facing a Different Story

One quiet decision shaped the early faith of England.

Birinus was a missionary from northern Italy around the year 634. Rome sent him to Britain thinking the job would be simple—just guide people who already knew something about Christianity and help clear up their beliefs. It sounded light and straightforward, but when he arrived, the situation looked very different from what he expected.

Pope Honorius had sent him with one plan: strengthen regions that had already been introduced to the Christian faith but still needed guidance. It was supposed to be familiar territory, nothing surprising.

But when he reached England, reality didn’t match the assignment. The areas he thought were already Christianized weren’t. Wessex was basically untouched. No structure, no churches, no base community—like going to a gig where you expected a full sound system but there isn’t even electricity.

With a situation like that, he couldn’t follow the original plan even if he tried. It simply didn’t fit what he found. Instead of stepping back or waiting for new instructions, he stayed. He didn’t run back to Rome to report the mismatch. He didn’t wait for better logistics. He just said: All right. Then we start from zero.

That choice—moving forward even when the plan no longer applied—became the reason Wessex ever became Christian at all.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Traces of courage, silence, and sacrifice—this is Saints.

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Saint John Damascene and the Miracle of the Restored Hand

A monk in 700s Damascus loses his hand, prays through the night, and wakes with a miracle that shapes his whole mission.

John Damascene lived in the early 700s in Damascus, a major city in the Umayyad Caliphate (present-day Syria). At that time, the Christian world was divided over the use of holy images. John defended icons through clear, steady writing that reached far beyond his city.

But his words angered Emperor Leo III of Constantinople in the Byzantine Empire. Around 720–730 AD, the emperor forged a letter that made it look like John was plotting against Damascus. The forged letter reached the Umayyad ruler, who believed it.

Without trial or explanation, the ruler ordered that John’s right hand—his writing hand—be cut off. The punishment was carried out in public. His hand was displayed to show the sentence had been done.

John brought the severed hand back to Mar Saba Monastery near Jerusalem. He placed it before an icon of Mary and prayed through the night. His prayer was simple: that he might write again.

By morning, the monks found something impossible. John’s hand was fully restored—joined back to his arm without any sign of injury. It was warm, living, and able to move as before.

When the Umayyad ruler saw the restored hand, he realized the accusation had been false. He reversed the sentence and apologized. But John didn’t return to public service. Instead, he devoted his life completely to prayer, teaching, and writing inside the monastery.

To remember the miracle, John added a silver hand to the icon of Mary. This icon became known as Our Lady of the Three Hands, and it still exists today.

The story spread not because it was dramatic, but because it felt unmistakably real to the people who saw it: a man losing everything, praying in the dark, and waking up with a restored hand in a way no one could explain.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Traces of courage, silence, and sacrifice—this is Saints.

Listen on Apple Music, Apple Music Classical, and YouTube Music