On 1 July, I attended mass at the Franciscan Church of St Mary of Jesus (Ta' Ġieżu) in Valletta which was commemorating the feast of Blessed Nazju Falzon. The atmosphere was reverent and familiar, yet it stirred something deeper. In today's fast-paced, data-driven world, where everything demands proof and efficiency, I couldn't help but ask: do saints still hold meaning for us? Can someone like Nazju Falzon still speak to us?

After mass, we received a holy picture with a relic of Falzon, along with a medal. We then walked quietly to his tomb, which is in the same church. People paused, prayed, touched the reliquary. I watched. I thought. I joined them.

Nazju Falzon is only one miracle away from being declared a saint. One documented, medically verified, Vatican-approved miracle. But in truth, it seems many people aren't paying attention - not to him, at least. And yet, he's ours. Maltese. A man from Valletta, buried just a short walk from the streets we pass through every day.

Born in 1813 during a deadly plague and at the very start of British rule in Malta, Falzon came from a wealthy and influential family. His father was a judge. His brothers studied law, and so did he. But he never practised. He never married. He never even became a priest - because he felt unworthy of the title. He remained a cleric. And that decision speaks volumes.

He used his intellect and his inheritance not to climb social ladders, but to serve. He taught catechism to children, but also to British soldiers and sailors - a bold move, especially considering that the Church and the courts still functioned in Italian at the time. He taught himself English so he could reach them. And he did. It's said he helped convert around 600 people.

He comforted the troubled, listened to those rejected by society, and never turned away someone in need. He prayed constantly. Some say he even levitated while deep in prayer. I don't know if that's true. But I do know this - people noticed something about him. Enough that, more than 200 years later, we're still talking about him.

Fr Anton Farrugia Pisani, the vice-postulator for his cause, told me that many people have experienced healings after praying to Nazju Falzon. But without documented evidence, the Church can't move forward. The cause remains dormant. One miracle short.

And here's what troubles me: Why do we hesitate to turn to our own? Why do we pray to saints from faraway places and forget the ones who walked our same streets, spoke our language, lived among our ancestors? Is it that we think saints must be distant to be powerful?

I left Ta' Ġieżu with that question still on my mind. In a world that often prizes visibility, Falzon chose the opposite - served in silence. Maybe that's exactly what we need to remember today. Maybe holiness hasn't disappeared after all. Maybe it just doesn't make noise.

Those interested in learning more about blessed Nazju Falzon or acquiring related books can reach out to Fr Anton Farrugia Pisani through his Facebook page or the Beatu Nazju Falzon page