Walking in the Clouds
Modern iconographer Gracie Morbitzer’s new book brings the saints up close and personal.
Review by Tulio Huggins
On my laptop is a small sticker of a Black woman in praise, her arms raised above her head and wearing a traditional African robe. Created by Gracie Morbitzer, a Catholic artist from Columbus, it depicts Servant of God Thea Bowman, a Franciscan sister involved in the American Civil Rights movement. Because of her life in the face of injustice and suffering, the Catholic Diocese of Jackson started her cause for canonization in the Roman Catholic Church in 2017. The Catholic Church’s theology of sainthood was an integral part of my journey to Catholicism. Learning about holy people who reflected God so strongly that they brought Heaven to Earth, as well as seeing the intriguing (and fairly rigorous) process for canonization, inspired me on my own faith journey, eventually leading me to Catholicism. It felt like the Catholic Church emphasized the “cloud of witnesses” that Paul describes in Hebrews. Thea Bowman (though she’s not yet fully sainted) was one of these holy people. Every so often, I’ll rewatch her 1989 speech at the United States Catholic Conference of Bishops meeting, titled “What Does it Mean to Be Black and Catholic?” Every time I watch it, I’m reassured of my place in a church that has sometimes failed to recognize the least of these. And every time I see that sticker of her, I am reminded both of the closeness of the saints to us and of how much we can relate to them in their walks with Christ.
Morbitzer leans into this possible intimacy between saints throughout history and Christians today in her new book, The Modern Saints. Morbitzer creates religious icons of saints and soon-to-be saints on repurposed wood, but she replaces traditional art forms and medieval clothing with modern clothing and attributes. Her icons have been made into prints and stickers (like the one on my laptop), and Morbitzer created this book as a way to expand on her diverse portrayals of the men and women honored in the Catholic Church. Instead of a white Saint George wearing knight’s armor and killing a dragon, the heroic saint is portrayed with tanned skin and a leather jacket bearing an image of the dragon he killed. Saint Augustine of Hippo’s African heritage is more obvious here than in most depictions of him, as Morbitzer shows him with dark skin, brown eyes, and 3C curls. This, she says, is all done to portray the saints as approachable. “For everyone, how powerful would it be to see the saints… look like them or someone they know?” she asks in her introduction. Along with contributions from guest writers such as Father James Martin and Dr. Christena Cleveland, Morbitzer’s collection of 52 icons and related essays provides an answer to this important question and causes us to ask ourselves, “What would holiness look like in the modern day—and in our own lives?”
After the reflections, the essayists provide a prayer for the reader to say.
The book follows a simple pattern. Each icon is paired with an artist statement, in which Morbitzer explains her interpretation of the saint that led to her painting. For some of the more historical saints, Morbitzer utilized her friends or family as the references, but if there were multiple photographs of the saint, such as in the case of Saint Oscar Romero (1917-1980), the icons stayed true to what the saint really looked like. Regardless, the icons will often still stay true to the ethnic identity of the saints she portrays.
Morbitzer also modernizes their attributes—the objects and patrons associated with the saint in art. Take Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. Instead of retelling the traditional story of him carrying the Christ-child, Morbitzer depicts him looking like a hiker on the Appalachian Trail, with a backpack and hiking poles. There’s still a reference to the carrying of Christ, but now it’s in the form of a t-shirt with the face of Jesus on it.
Along with Morbitzer’s icons, we get an overview of each saint, with their patronages revealing their past historical and cultural connections. For example, Saint Peregrine, a 14th-century priest, who is known for caring for the ill and for the miraculous cure of his own life-threatening illness, is the patron saint of AIDs patients. The essays vary in topic. Most of them reflect on the saints themselves: their personalities, what they did in the world, and how we might lean on their examples in our own walks with Christ. One of my favorites was the essay on St. Mary Mackillop. A 19th-century saint who founded a religious order, she is depicted with Eucalyptus and gum tree leaves in her hair to represent her Australian heritage, as well as a tattoo of her religious order. Essayist Isabel Morbitzer reflects on the path towards justice through education and empowering others, pulling inspiration from St. Mary Mackillop’s advocacy against sexual abuse in the church. However, other writers focus more on the icon itself, reflecting on the artwork and how it relates to both the saint and the writers themselves. This is especially prevalent in the icons depicting various Marian devotions, such as Our Lady of Guadalupe and the Madonna and Child. After the reflections, the essayists provide a prayer for the reader to say.
The art highlights the humanity of the saints, while the stories and essays relate them concretely to our daily lives.
I loved this aspect of the book, because this project isn’t simply a collection of art; it’s a devotional too—a spiritual exercise for the reader. Morbitzer’s collection can be read straight through like a regular book, but it can also be read as a year-long devotional, where the reader can spend a week carefully reflecting on each saint and asking for his or her intercession. This book combines art and prayer, inviting the reader to gaze at the saints, learning to see them as guides in all aspects of our modern life—even when they initially seem impossibly far away from our own trials, vocations, and pursuits.
These modern icons of the saints make them more approachable, especially for those who might come from an underrepresented group. Instead of the solemn and fair faces and medieval robes, Morbitzer’s saints look like the people in our lives (as they would have to the long-ago people they lived among). They look like us. Instead of a stoic, frowning Mary and an odd-looking Child Jesus, the way they are often drawn, her Madonna and Child look full of joy. Mary is a dark-skinned young woman with piercings and nail polish, and Jesus is a swaddled baby reaching out to his mother. This Madonna and Child looks like a new mom and her kid that might go to your church, maybe one of your family members with their new son. The art highlights the humanity of the saints, while the stories and essays relate them concretely to our daily lives.
For Gracie Morbitzer, the “Communion of Saints” in the Apostle’s Creed is not an abstract concept. It’s a community of holy men and women who are pointing us to a Christ-centered life, here and now. By getting acquainted with them—learning about their struggles, their passions, their work, and their holiness—we can ourselves grow in our relationships with God. Morbitzer spends her time in this book introducing us—both Christians and non-Christians—to friends that are examples in our faith. The Modern Saints is a beautiful project, leading us to step into the cloud of witnesses, rather than simply viewing it from afar.
Tulio Huggins is a Campus Ministry Intern for Greek Intervarsity at Dartmouth College, where he graduated from in 2023. His hobbies include rugby, speculative fiction, and writing.
The Modern Saints: Portraits and Reflections on the Saints was published by Convergent Books on December 5, 2023. Fare Forward appreciates their provision of a review copy. You can purchase your own copy here.
