Many scenes of the New Testament depict the Apostles as deities before the eyes of the Gentiles. Most memorably, in Acts 14:12, Paul and Barnabas are taken as avatars of the Olympian gods:
According to the King James Version (or one of the oldest Protestant versions of the Bible): "And they called Barnabas, Jupiter; and Paul, Mercurius, because he was the chief speaker."
Upon receiving such a welcome that greatly disturbed them, Paul responded "Men, why are you doing these things? We also are men, of like nature with you, and we bring you good news, that you should turn from these vain things to a living God, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and all that is in them." (Acts 14:15)
There are other scenes throughout the New Testament when creatures, be they angelic or human, correct the homage paid to them and admonish those prostrated before them that they are not the living God. In John's vision of the Apocalypse, he is told by the messenger before whom John is lying down that "You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you... Worship God" (Revelation 19:10, 22:8–9).
These scenes are baked into the imagination of the Christian audience and impress upon all that only the Triune and Living God is worthy of true adoration.
That is consistent with Church teaching from the on start.
But just what does it mean to adore something? And is there not a lesser form of honor that we pay to the things that belong to God that are not of his essence (as Paul suggests above)?
Yes, there are.
What is most overlooked by modern Christians is the fact that the objects touched by the Apostles (and presumably other saints) were in fact collected and venerated by Christian believers as early as the ministries of St. Paul:
According to Acts 19:11–12, during Paul's ministry in Ephesus, God performed extraordinary miracles through him, to the point that items of clothing he had touched were used to heal the sick:
"God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched him were taken to the sick, and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them." (Acts 19:11–12).
Evidently, such practices were not confined to Ephesus, but were broadly observed (see the scholar Peter Brown's "Cult of the Saints" for more detail).
To give you a little taste, I was able to track a few cites through Gemini.
Using this advanced search engine, I was easily able to track down many citations of Church Fathers who approved of this venerable practice:
1. St. Jerome (c. 347–420 AD)
In his Letter to Riparius, Jerome aggressively defended the honor paid to the martyrs and their remains against a critic named Vigilantius, who claimed that relic-veneration was a form of pagan superstition. Jerome famously wrote:
"We do not worship, we do not adore, for fear that we should bow down to the creature rather than to the Creator, but we venerate the relics of the martyrs that we may adore Him whose martyrs they are."
2. St. Augustine (354–430 AD)
In The City of God (Book 22, Chapter 8), Augustine defended the miracles occurring at the tombs and through the relics of the saints (such as St. Stephen). While Augustine was careful to note that God alone is the ultimate source of miracles, he argued that God chose to channel His power through the bodies and items connected to His faithful servants. He used these accounts defensively against skeptics and pagans, noting that the sheer volume of verified healings at martyr shrines proved the Christian faith was alive and active.
3. St. John Chrysostom (c. 349–407 AD)
Chrysostom frequently preached on the power and dignity of the remains of martyrs. In his homilies, he argued that the bodies of saints—having served as temples of the Holy Spirit and instruments for God's work—possessed a spiritual grace. He asserted that demons feared the relics of martyrs and that touching or visiting them inspired the living to greater virtue and faith.
4. St. Ambrose of Milan (c. 339–397 AD)
Ambrose played a major role in the liturgical integration of relics. When he miraculously discovered the long-lost bodies of the martyrs Gervasius and Protasius in Milan, he strongly defended their translation and placement beneath the altar of his cathedral. He maintained that the physical remains of holy individuals are "blessed fruits" and spiritual shields for the Church.
5. St. John Damascene (c. 676–749 AD)
Writing slightly later during the Iconoclastic controversy, the Damascene provided one of the most systematic theological defenses of holy matter (including icons and relics). In his writings, he stated:
"We carry about these clean and holy bones... because we find thereby that the thought of death... lends wings of zeal to our religious exercises; and lastly, because we derive sanctification from their touch."
He argued that because God took on a material body in Jesus Christ, matter itself has been redeemed and can serve as a conduit for divine grace.
End of citation.
Relics are interesting because their "market" was filled with fraudulent claims and fabricated items. This is captured most memorably by the "Pardoner's Tale" in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales of the 14th century:
"Thus spit I out my venym under heew [color]
Of hooly hyn, semynge good and treew."
"Thus spit I out my venom under cover / Of holy saints, seeming good and true."
By the late medieval period--- just before the Reformation--- the abuse of relics was more than obvious. As Chaucer shows, it was kind of a running joke in many circles that everything was a fake. Indeed, did the diabolical thought dawn on them that everything was a fake?
Even so, the abuse of something does not in principle invalidate that institution any more than a drunken and violent father invalidates by his own demerits the institution of fatherhood itself. Only nominalists (also a development of the late medieval period!) would think that the whole of the individual parts is simply the sum of the individual parts. Thus, if enough individual fathers go "bad" (which is often the case historically), then the majority ruins the institution itself and put the principles into question by virtue of their effects. But such metaphysics behind the ethics is only true of machines, not living beings, which is why the physical sciences is always kept differentiated from the life sciences. It is simply not true that all things are perfectly described by their parts or members to this or that class of things. (But, let us attack the nominalists on another day when we review Richard Weaver's now neglected Ideas Have Consequences (1948) against the dismal backdrop of what passes for "Anglo-American conservatism" these days).
The point of this post on relics was to broaden your horizons regarding what you might believe are "medieval papist inventions". As we can see from Scripture, there is an obvious precedent for the reverence towards relics themselves.
Not to be too "on the nose", but there is a famous saying by St. John Cardinal Newman (a former Anglican priest who converted to Roman Church later in life) that "to be deep in history is to cease being Protestant." For my part, I would go one step further by saying that one merely need to study the Bible closely and examine what people are doing more so than what they are saying to recognize the antiquity of Church practices and customs. In many instances, (and here, relics is a fine example), one doesn't need to go that deep in history to see how miracles are channeled however God wills. Often enough, God's power is indeed channeled through God's saints and, yes, even their bodies. There is nothing odd about that. The cloak of Christ was enough to heal as is evident in Mark 5:25–34, Matthew 9:20–22. God can do what He wills through the means that He wills. And by doing so, that means is itself sanctified.
NOTE: earlier this year, I was fortunate enough to approach a First-Class Relic of St. John Henry Newman which I placed my rosary against. This allowed me according to venerable Church tradition to take a third-class relic of my own to my home altar where it rests to this day.
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