Seeking Succor in Saints, Simulations & Substitutes
- Isabella Campolattaro
- 21 hours ago
- 6 min read
I love how God sometimes answers prayers on a dime—in unexpected places like San Frediano's medieval basilica in Lucca, home to the tower I mentioned yesterday.
The church was originally built by Frediano, a sixth-century Irish prince who, on pilgrimage to Rome, was called by God to live as a hermit in the hills outside of Lucca. Eventually persuaded by the pope to become bishop of Lucca, Frediano built the church in honor of the martyr Saint Vincent of Zaragoza. Centuries later, the church was renamed to honor Fred himself, whose remains are buried beneath the altar.
More austere and less obviously grand than some of the other Lucchese churches, this was just one little nugget of its rich backstory.
As with so many people, places, and things, if we dig a little, we can gain enlightening insight. Sometimes, essential insight.
Beware Alluring Lures
I watch and read a lot of Christian, spiritual, and recovery content, including countless 30-second reels that are sometimes edifying and sometimes...not so much. I routinely pray for wisdom and discernment if something feels iffy, asking God to filter what enters my headspace. More than ever, we need to vet what we welcome into our hearts and minds because the counterfeits are off the charts—especially with AI’s power.
Like all power, it can be toxic and abused.
Sheep: be alert!
My daily quiet time in Italy was about the same as it is here in my Florida family room, though infused with exotic ambiance. One morning, I came across yet another reel by an eye-catching preacher I’d seen before—Reverend Somebody. These were sponsored posts, and this fella keeps showing up in my feed. Ka-ching, ka-ching. He is promoting his content a lot.
The warm-faced reverend delivers compelling messages, sprinkled with scripture and sharp Christian allusions, but something felt off. Mildly funky facts.
His vaguely mystical, gentle positivity and undertone made me uneasy. Plus, his appearance was comforting yet creepy, his wardrobe oddly inconsistent but attractive—weird combos. I decided to research him. (Fact-check! It’s more important than ever!)
A little digging revealed he’s AI. No claim to humanity, no clear ownership or affiliation, and assorted weird references on his website I just couldn’t reconcile with Truth. Among them: a lengthy, heavy disclaimer page up front to warn that this was mystical-magikal teaching grounded in Christ-consciousness, not a substitute for therapy, and made no claims of healing or otherwise. Eek!
There had been no disclosure on the reel itself.
Mind you, I can and do argue that truth is truth wherever you encounter it. I've been tempted to ask if there's any real danger in a little artificial sweetener?
Yet, I also cannot argue that Jesus and the Apostles warn repeatedly about the real-time and eternal perils of (and to) false prophets disguised as "angels of light" too much and too strongly to overlook or minimize.
We can liken it to having curable cancer and taking a placebo instead of the indicated treatment. Or worse, taking a cancerogenic instead of the healing remedy. Very bad.
Some of us have taken our comfort from a lot of sketchy sources with shattering results.
Still, with so much good content out there, could it be merely a matter a discernment or conviction, I wondered? I don't want to be a legalist Luddite either.
I was pondering all this a little as we resumed our sightseeing. God was already dispatching answers.
Don’t Worship the Dangerous
That very afternoon, we visited the beautiful church of San Frediano to climb its tower—more utilitarian than the whimsical Guinigi. Inside the darkened sanctuary there was a tiny chapel protected from
prying tourists, designated for prayer. I sat for a few minutes, soaking in the silence and talking to Jesus about the obvious uptick in sketchy feel-good sermons disguised as Christian encouragement I honestly crave.
An open missal caught my eye. I rose to read the gospel reading for the day:
Matthew 7:15-20, in which Jesus says:
15 “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. 16 By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? 17 Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them.”
Good golly, God! Thank you for the prompt, precise reply.
Beware Fake Fruit
I recently wrote a blog on fake fruit because it’s increasingly hard to judge the goods. Surely, it's mostly above my pay grade but for my own blessed sake and my readers, I sure don't want any rotten apples.
There’s been a dramatic uptick in YouTube channels using AI to replicate the voices of respected authors and authorities—including pastors—to advance unauthorized and sometimes unhealthy content. Some harmless, some vile. Frankly, the deceit is red flag enough.
Using the worldly church yardstick suggests packed pews and paychecks are sound measures of success, but Jesus shoots that down (Matthew 10:9-13; Luke 6:17-26 +++). There’s no New Testament model for preachers like the one who briefly wooed me.
That seems like a better measure.
Still, when life is challenging for any reason, it’s tempting to indulge our itchy ears with teachings (or other stuff) that takes the edge off our pain or problems. Whether it’s a bestselling Christian author, your local pastor, or a credible simulation, we can all find ourselves looking for love and light in all the wrong places.
Remember that Jesus warns that many will take the broad path to destruction. Mega-followings may be a misleading fruit because the followers themselves are corrupt.
Who or what we're trusting matters.
Speaking of corrupt, that leads me to the next warning.
Don't Worship the Dead
As I left the tiny chapel, I continued my tour of the basilica. A few weary-looking locals were praying intensely in the chapel next door. I turned to look at the altar and discovered a cadaver enshrined in a glass case. Yikes. I Googled her and learned she is Saint Zita, who has been dead for 750 years. It’s said that her body—like other Catholic saints through history—is miraculously undecayed or incorrupt, interpreted as a miraculous sign with some biblical allusions to our eternal bodies.
I read a little about St. Zita’s history to learn she was a servant to a local family, very humble and deeply devout, sacrificially serving the poor and sick in her community. Catholics revere her as the patron saint of maids, waitresses, and domestic workers, and she’s said to be especially helpful in finding lost keys.
Remember the Saints. Rely on the Savior.
There’s a world of difference between honoring someone’s legacy and elevating them to divine status. The first inspires us; the second risks idolatry, which God--ahem--discourages.
With genuine respect for my Catholic heart and heritage, there is no biblical basis for worshipping or praying to the dead or asking them to intercede for us.
This very godly woman has long been in heaven enjoying and worshipping the only One who answers prayers. Accept no substitutes.
From a spiritual standpoint, why “speak to the manager” when you’ve been invited straight into the CEO-King’s throne room of grace?”
He has all power.
I suspect most of the Saints themselves would gasp in horror at being worshipped above the Savior who transformed them and inspired such devotion and super-powered ministry.
Our Many Risky Idols
I absolutely believe that Saints with a big "S" are worthy inspirations and sources of Christian insight. I am a grateful admirer of Francis, Augustine, Theresa, Catherine, John of the Cross, Ignatius and many others whose lives, teachings, and examples have comforted, educated, and inspired me deeply.
Protestants tend to dismiss or demonize Sainthood. Certainly, worshiping humans—dead or alive—is a grievous form of idolatry (and usually VERY disappointing), but it's most certainly not limited to Catholics. Given that idols are anything we love, serve, or prioritize more than God, we all pretty much need to shut up.
Short Idolatry Self-Assessment: Spouse, children, presidents, athletes, pastors, money, job, achievement, food, control, image, comfort, sex, drugs, and rock and roll...
Moreover, the Protestant view on saints, admittedly backed by scripture, is that we’re all saints in Christ. Ok, but. I think it’s more than fair to note the distinction between say Zita—who routinely surrendered her sleep, food, and bed for homeless and hurting strangers, or Fred, who gave up princely wealth and comfort to live in a cave to pray and worship Jesus--and other faithful. Their lives reflect a greater faith than most Western comfy Christers who tithe and go on feel-good mission trips they post about for days. The fruit looks and tastes different indeed. (Maybe the narrow way Jesus described is way more narrow and costly than we like to think. Worth considering for sure.)
Our waywardness and hypocrisy is downright alarming. Thank God for Jesus and...
Good News!
Despite our seemingly hopeless depravity (yep), Jesus still offers mercy, grace, and a narrow way that leads to life. He calls us to follow. To re/turn. And to test every spirit, every teaching, and every idol against His Truth and Sufficiency. Re/turn to the Shepherd. He knows your name—and He still welcomes you home.