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Winter Solstice

Christmas cookiesKeep calm and eat Christmas cookies. Today is one of those rare times when the longest night of the year coincides with the predicted end of the world. The most important thing when facing Doomsday is not to panic. As usual, to be prepare for such an emergency situation you should have a good flashlight,  candles, a pack of wooden matches, a supply of water and some trail mix, plus a map of your state and the intervening states between your home and the Canadian border. Or you can stay where you are and wait it out, for like other days, Doomsday is only 24 hours long.  If you decide to remain where you are,  stay calm and eat lots of Christmas cookies.

Among the Christmas cookies  in our photo are a couple which will be recognizable to fans of the wonderful British science fiction TV show, Dr. Who.  The show began running in 1963, cancelled in 1989, then resurected in 2005 and is still going.  The central character, the Doctor, has been played by 11 different actors, the change from one actor to another being written into the script as a “regeneration” of the same person, a Time Lord. The Doctor travels around the universe in his TARDIS, a space and time travel machine. On the outside it looks like a blue British police box, common in Britain in 1963 when the series began. The Doctor’s machine is a defective old-fashioned model he stole from a museum, but it does retain a primary characteristic of being much larger inside than outside. Various Dr. Who series are available in the United States on BBC America, and possibly other channels as well.

(The absolutely excellent cookies in our photo were made by Linnea and are vanishing fast into another dimension.)

 

The Light of St. Lucy’s Day

St. Lucy processionOur friend Jo Page,  fiction writer, essayist and journalist, is also a Lutheran pastor.  She’s more informed than many of us when it comes to the liturgical calendar, and in this Christmas season she’s written about the beautiful —and, as she notes, strange —celebration of of St. Lucy’s Day. Perhaps you’ve seen the procession of St. Lucy Day, at least in photographs. In fact, it’s extraordinarily beautiful; nowadays the young women wear crowns of electric candles, but not so long ago those were real candles — the youth, the beauty and the danger were all there together. Here’s Jo in her own words:

On Dec. 13th, St. Lucy’s Day, in many Scandinavian countries and in Lutheran communities in the United States, young girls wearing crowns of candles and bearing plates of saffron buns—to represent St. Lucy’s gouged-out eyes—come before their families to sing “Santa Lucia.” Originally this was a Neapolitan sailor’s song, but the words to the Scandinavian versions plea for the return of light and for the release from winter’s darkness.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. One of the weirdest things about the observation of St. Lucy’s Day concerns the legend of the saint and how then how this 4th-century Sicilian saint came to be venerated by Lutherans, who tend not to put much stock in saints.

St. Lucy was a 4th-century Christian martyr during Emperor Diocletian’s widespread persecution of Christians. St. Lucy’s crime was that she had consecrated her virginity to God and wanted her dowry to be distributed to the poor.

Well, when her pagan fiancé found this out, along with her refusal to marry him, he did the stand-up guy thing and denounced her to the Roman authorities. After she refused to burn a sacrifice of the Emperor’s image (this was done to show fealty to the Roman authorities and to reject Christianity), it was determined that a fitting punishment would be to stick her in a brothel where she wouldn’t be able to protect her virginity.

The legend says that when the guards came to take her away they found her so filled with the spirit of God that she was as stiff as a board and too heavy to move even when they hitched her to a team of oxen. In some traditions St. Lucy is tortured by having her eyes gouged out with a fork. In another legend, her fiancé comments on the beauty of her eyes and she gouges them out herself, declaring, “Now let me live to God”.

(This explains why she is seen in paintings bearing her eyes upon a plate and also why she is the patron saint of the blind and those with vision problems. It also explains the grisly custom of having saffron buns represent her eyes. Does put a damper on the appetite.)

Whether or not she was actually burned on a funeral pyre is unclear, but many martyrs under the Emperor Diocletian were. And in St. Lucy’s story, she continues to confess her faith in God’s love while burning to death. Even a spear thrust through her throat could not silence her.

So how does a 4th-century Sicilian martyr become the poster child for the mid-December tradition of putting candles into a crown and having a procession of girls in white robes with red ribbons come in singing a lilting Italian song that had originally been written to request favorable winds while sailing around the bay of Naples?

Well, it’s not clear.

But the lyrics to the Scandinavian versions all share in common the plea for the return of light amid winter darkness:

The night goes with weighty step
round yard and hearth,
round the earth, the sun departs
leaving the woods brooding
There in our dark house,
appears with lighted candles
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia.

It is, indeed, a strange and beautiful tradition, but more than its strangeness is how it speaks to that common need for light to return and to outlive the darkness, not merely of winter and of night, but the darknesses we find in our lives. When Christina Rosetti wrote “In the bleak mid-winter, long ago/Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone,” I think she was talking about a lot more than just the climate. She was talking about existential isolation and the hope—the need?—for redemption, which for her came with her faith.

In the Santa Lucia processions, almost pagan in their evocations of nature and the spirit of St. Lucy, I think we find that same deep yearning for restoration, for light and for renewal. Because the storied St. Lucy, bearing her eyes on a plate, represents a vision for more than what our eyes, in this darkness, can see.

Jo’s blog is at jo-page.com. For a poem about St. Lucy, visit jo-page.com

More Notes


Tim Carmody, in his excellent piece, "How Haiti Became Poor", notes that President Trump's racist policies and vulgar language have sullied the word "shithole" which used to be one of the all-time great swear words. He's right. It's another terrible power this careless President wields.