10/21/2026
We have our top 8!
(Meta won't let us use more than two links a month, unless we pay a subscription fee)... which... wow, Meta. Wow).
We'll try to put the link in the comments!
Quick Saint bios are below!
(disclaimer: the bios are written by AI... because, ain't nobody got time for that).
1. Perpetua & Felicity | d. 203 CE, Carthage, North Africa
Perpetua and Felicity were young mothers imprisoned for their Christian faith in Roman North Africa. Perpetua came from a privileged family and was nursing an infant son; Felicity was enslaved and gave birth to a daughter shortly before their ex*****on. The surviving account includes Perpetua’s descriptions of the darkness of prison, her concern for her child, and her father’s attempts to persuade her to abandon her faith. Those details make her courage deeply human: she had people she loved and much to lose. Together, these women bore witness across a divide of wealth and social status that shaped their world. Their story invites us to imagine a community where people stand alongside one another across those divisions, sharing both courage and vulnerability.
2. Mary Magdalene | 1st century, Galilee/Judea
Mary Magdalene’s place in Jesus’ ministry began long before Easter morning. Luke names her among the women who traveled with Jesus and helped support his ministry from their own resources. She was a disciple and supporter of the movement, as well as a witness to Jesus’ death and resurrection. In John’s Gospel, she remains weeping outside the empty tomb, recognizes the risen Jesus when he calls her by name, and carries the news to the disciples. This is why she is often called the “apostle to the apostles.” The Bible never identifies her as a pr******te, despite that persistent later portrayal. Mary’s story invites us to recognize women’s leadership and to ask whose voices we might overlook even when they have something essential to tell us.
3. Jude | 1st century, Judea
Jude is traditionally counted among Jesus’ twelve apostles and is sometimes called Thaddaeus. In John’s Gospel, “Judas, not Iscariot” asks Jesus why he will reveal himself to the disciples and not to the world. It is an honest question from someone trying to understand what Jesus is doing. Beyond the biblical references, much of Jude’s life comes to us through later traditions. He eventually became especially associated with desperate or seemingly hopeless situations. That reputation offers a meaningful possibility for a church: becoming a community where people can bring the circumstances they don’t know how to fix. Jude’s witness invites us to accompany people through uncertainty and to keep offering care when there are no easy answers.
4. Barnabas | 1st century, Cyprus
Barnabas was a Jewish believer from Cyprus whom the apostles called “son of encouragement.” Acts describes him selling a field and offering the proceeds to support the community. Later, when believers feared Paul because of his history of persecuting Christians, Barnabas helped introduce him to the apostles. He also helped nurture the growing church in Antioch, where Jesus’ followers were first called Christians. His encouragement took practical forms: sharing resources, building relationships, and helping people find a place in the community. When he and Paul disagreed over whether to bring John Mark on another journey, Barnabas chose to travel with Mark. His story asks what encouragement might require of us when giving someone another opportunity comes at a personal cost.
5. Monica of Hippo | c. 331–387 CE, North Africa
Monica was a North African Christian whose life is known largely through the writings of her son, Augustine. His Confessions portrays a woman of persistent faith whose hopes for her family unfolded through years of uncertainty and disagreement. Their relationship was complicated, as relationships between parents and adult children often are. Remembering that complexity helps us resist turning Monica into a formula that promises a particular outcome if we simply pray hard enough. Her story can speak to anyone carrying concern for someone they love, especially when their paths and beliefs differ. As a patron for Mosaic, Monica could remind us to make room for families in all their complexity and to support those whose prayers remain unresolved.
6. Francis of Assisi | c. 1181–1226, Italy
Francis grew up with wealth and opportunity but came to embrace a life of poverty, prayer, and service. His love of creation was part of a larger willingness to reconsider what mattered and whom he was willing to approach. Rather than building his life around comfort or social standing, he sought to follow Jesus among people living in poverty and exclusion. The movement that grew around him became the Franciscan Order. Although familiar images often show him peacefully surrounded by animals, his choices challenged the pursuit of possessions, prestige, and power. Francis invites us to consider how our use of money, our treatment of creation, and our relationships with vulnerable neighbors express our faith. His example asks what simplicity might make possible for us to share.
7. Dymphna | Traditionally 7th century, Ireland/Belgium
Dymphna’s story comes through medieval tradition, and its historical details remain uncertain. According to that tradition, she fled her father’s abusive demands and was killed after he found her. She became associated with people experiencing mental illness and emotional distress. A particularly significant part of her legacy developed in Geel, Belgium, where pilgrims seeking help at her shrine were welcomed into local households. Over centuries, the town developed a tradition of family care that made community life central to its approach. For Mosaic, Dymphna could represent a commitment to welcoming people experiencing mental illness, supporting those who care for them, and taking emotional suffering seriously. Her legacy asks whether our neighbors can find safety, dignity, and belonging among us.
8. Kateri Tekakwitha | 1656–1680, Mohawk territory/New France
Kateri was born to a Mohawk father and an Algonquin mother in what is now New York. A childhood smallpox epidemic killed her parents and brother and left her with facial scarring and impaired vision. She became a Christian as a young adult and later joined an Indigenous Christian community near present-day Montreal. Her life unfolded amid profound disruption from disease, European colonization, and missionary activity, a context that deserves care whenever her story is told. Remembering Kateri means attending to her particular life and choices while respecting the Indigenous communities and histories connected to her. Her witness invites Mosaic to consider how we welcome people’s cultures and identities, listen to stories different from our own, and recognize faith expressed through lives unlike ours.
