Communio Sanctorum

Do the Saints Pray for Us?

“The prayer of a righteous person has great power.” —James 5:16

One of the more tender and contested aspects of the Communion of Saints is this: do the saints in glory intercede for us? Can they hear us? Do they pray for us before the throne of God? And if they do, is it right, or wise, for us to ask them to?

For many modern Christians, especially those shaped by post-Reformation suspicion of anything resembling “popery,” the idea of seeking the prayers of saints can sound strange or even dangerous. It brings to mind images of candlelit altars, whispered invocations, and a confusion between Christ and His creatures. And indeed, when left unchecked by Scripture and charity, veneration has sometimes become superstition.

But beneath the distortions lies a question as old as the Church’s worship and as intimate as the prayers we offer for those we love; can death truly sever the fellowship of prayer? Or does the Body of Christ remain united in intercession, even across the veil?

To begin, we must remember what prayer is: it is not magic. It is not a divine transaction. It is communion, with God, and through God, with one another. Prayer is relational. It is an act of love, dependence, and spiritual solidarity. And Scripture is full of prayer offered not only to God on one’s own behalf, but on behalf of others.

Abraham pleads for Sodom. Moses intercedes for Israel. Job prays for his friends. Paul repeatedly begs the churches to “pray for us.” James commands the elders to pray over the sick. And we are told that “the effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much.”

But intercession doesn’t end in this life. It is not a temporary ministry we discard in death. Scripture tells us that Christ Himself “always lives to make intercession for us” (Hebrews 7:25). The Holy Spirit “intercedes with groanings too deep for words” (Romans 8:26). And the book of Revelation presents a vivid image: the prayers of the saints rising before God like incense (Revelation 5:8; 8:3–4).

Who are these saints whose prayers ascend? They are not disembodied symbols. They are the glorified faithful, gathered around the throne of God. Their lives are hidden with Christ in God. And their love, purified, perfected, now flows outward in worship and intercession.

From the earliest centuries, Christians believed that the saints in glory were not passive observers, but active members of the Church’s life. Origen, in the third century, spoke of saints in heaven “offering their prayers for us.” Cyril of Jerusalem urged believers to remember “the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs,” adding, “through their prayers and supplications, God would receive our petition.” Augustine, too, affirmed that the saints intercede, though he cautioned against exaggeration.

These early testimonies do not suggest that saints replace Christ as mediator. On the contrary, they emphasize that all prayer, even saintly prayer, is dependent on Christ, offered in Him, through Him, by His Spirit. The saints do not rival Jesus. They adore Him. And in Him, they join their voices to ours in the great litany of love.

By the fourth century, inscriptions in catacombs often included simple petitions: “Pray for us.” These were not magical appeals. They were the cries of a Church that believed its members, living and dead, remained one in Christ. At the Eucharist, the names of the departed were read aloud. Their memory was not a moment of nostalgia, it was a sign of communion.

At the time of the Reformation, many abuses had crept into the devotional life of the Church. Saints were sometimes invoked with near-divine language. The line between veneration and worship was blurred. Elaborate tales of visions, guarantees of indulgences, and the selling of spiritual favors gave the faithful a distorted view of intercession. In response, the Reformers called the Church back to simplicity and clarity.

Article XXII of the Thirty-Nine Articles declares:

“The Romish doctrine concerning... the Invocation of Saints is a fond thing vainly invented, and grounded upon no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God.”

This statement is strong, but notice its careful target: not the idea of saints praying for us, but the Romish doctrine concerning invocation. That is, the developed system that treated saints as heavenly patrons to be appeased, as intermediaries with their own powers and prerogatives.

What the Reformers rejected was the distortion, not necessarily the foundational belief that the saints are still in Christ, still love the Church, and may well continue in prayer.

Indeed, in the Reformation’s quieter corners, many retained a reverent place for the saints. Lancelot Andrewes, the great Anglican divine, wrote prayers invoking the prayers of apostles and martyrs, always within the framework of Christ as sole mediator. The Book of Common Prayer includes prayers of thanksgiving for saints, asking God to “grant us grace so to follow their good examples.” The saints are not silenced. They are set in right order.

This is where the matter becomes pastoral. Many faithful Anglicans today ask: Is it wrong to say, “Saint Mary, pray for me” or “Blessed Julian, intercede for us”?

The answer depends on how it is done, and why.

If it is done in the spirit of superstition, as if the saint holds a separate power apart from God, then no, it is not appropriate. If it replaces prayer to God, or undermines confidence in Christ as our one mediator, then no, it must be corrected.

But if it is done as an act of love, within the communion of Christ’s Body, then yes, it can be done with reverence, humility, and theological integrity.

To ask the prayers of a saint is no more idolatrous than asking your grandmother to pray for you. The difference, of course, is that the saint is no longer visible to you. But if we believe in the resurrection, in the life everlasting, and in the unity of the Church across death, then the saints are not “former Christians.” They are the most fully alive members of the Church.

What matters is Christ. Always Christ. All intercession, whether offered by a living friend, a saint in glory, or the groaning Spirit, is effectual only in Him. He is the Way. He is the Mediator. But within Him, the Body lives and breathes and prays together.

In practical Anglican life, this may look like giving thanks for a saint’s witness, asking God to strengthen you by their example, saying, with humility, “Pray for us, St. Stephen,” during a litany, but always avoiding extravagant or formulaic invocations that mimic pagan appeal.

The Anglo-Catholic tradition has preserved many such devotions, often including brief invocations in daily prayers or hymnody. Meanwhile, more Reformed Anglicans may simply honor the saints through Scripture reading and memory.

What matters is that we remember: the saints are alive in Christ. They are not deaf. They are not disinterested. They are not distant. And their prayers, offered in love, may yet be part of the great chorus rising before the throne.

We do not need the saints to replace Christ. But neither should we forget them out of fear. In a world where loneliness afflicts even the Church, the Communion of Saints reminds us: we are never alone. We are surrounded, upheld, and remembered by those who have finished the race, and by those who now pray with us, for us, and through us.

Thanks be to God.