Feast Day: September 27th | Patronage: Pharmacists, Physicians, Surgeons, and Twins | Iconography: Wearing Turbans (because they’re from Arabia), Carrying Scrolls or Instruments of Medicine, Standing Side by Side (as Twins), Holding Palms or Crosses, or Shown as Beheaded (for their Martyrdom)
Saints Cosmas and Damian are primarily known for giving away their services as physicians (and pharmacy) for free, a spectacular act of generosity that brought many of those they treated to Christ. And, it also brought down on them the ire of the governor of Cilicia (modern day Turkey), who was seeking victims during the persecution of Diocletian in 287 AD. They were so well known, and loved for their flagrant charity that they received the nickname anargyroi, “the silverless”, or even “the holy unmercenaries” during their lives. After their deaths they became even more well known, when the stories of the heroic courage of Cosmas, Damian, and their younger brothers in the face of torture spread around the continent. Churches dedicated to their honor were built in Jerusalem, Egypt, Mesopotamia, as well as in Constantinople, Syria and even as far as England. I should mention that the Eastern Churches not only have multiple feast days for Cosmas and Damian, but actually reverence an entire class of saints called the “anargyroi”, those who did works of charity without asking for any recompence.
I think we can learn much from the saints of this sort: their other-worldly generosity that not only is unattached to the pleasures and goods of the world, but goes out of their way to put complete confidence in God to provide for them because they’re not looking to provide for themselves. I love that title “the holy unmercenaries”, because it just emphasizes how these men and women operated completely opposite my own inclinations. How often do I engage in some work, project, effort, or event because I think I’ll get something out of it? Or, at least, does that make up part of my motivation? We often repeat, and live by, the idea that: “God helps those who help themselves”, but saints like this show us that God’s generosity isn’t dependent on our efforts, success, profitability, or paycheck. There’s something challenging to me in this: what if I were absurdly, irresponsibly, unthinkingly generous? What would happen?
I don’t think all of us are called to this kind of radical charity or poverty. Jesus asks the rich young man to “sell everything, give to the poor, and come and follow Me.” But He didn’t ask that of the women who provided for Him out of their means, or from Ss. Louis and Zellie Martin who raised their holy children (including St. Thérèse the Little Flower) very comfortably. But does that give us all a pass so that we don’t have to take seriously the countless saints who did live radical generosity? How do we discern between these different examples of holiness? How do we know what God is asking of us?
First, we pray. We ask God: “Are you asking me to be more generous?” Perhaps we extend ourselves slightly more in giving away our time, attention, love, money, or possessions, and then we see what happens! Does love grow in my heart? Does God’s peace abide more firmly inside of me? Do I find faith or hope or courage or self-sacrifice growing within me? Do I have a clearer idea of God, a better sense of His presence, a greater trust in His closeness? If those things are growing it means that God is at work and we should take seriously how we might be more generous.
But there’s a second part of this too. What if saints weren’t primarily people who were really good at giving? What if they were really good at receiving? What I mean is that every saint who strikes us by their radical charity, first knew they were the beneficiaries of the radical love of God! Have we opened our hearts to God’s kindness? His mercy? His compassion, presence, joy, or courage? I think an awful lot of us make our way through life not much loving like God because we haven’t much opened ourselves to His love. So, we live mostly human lives with only a sprinkling of grace and gratuity, just enough to be nice, and polite, and practical, but not exactly divine… Ss. Cosmas and Damian show us the freedom and abundance that reign instead in the heart that has first drank deeply of God’s love.
– Fr. Dominic just last week was impressed by God’s generosity when he had several talks to give for a retreat, and again and again found the Lord providing exactly the idea or story or passage that was needed to continue forward. The minute I thanked Him for those gifts, somewhere in the back of my head was the thought: “oh, I shouldn’t have been so needy there, I won’t bother God the next time…” BUT, since when did God say He was bothered my request? When did He ask me to figure things out on my own because He’s too busy right now??! (He didn’t! But now I have a line of thinking that I know to reject next time!)