The Church Triumphant: Spotlight on St. Cecilia

Hello all! Rather than from my normal perch during quiet spells on the reference desk, I'm blogging from my home office today. :) In a shocking development, the library that I work at is *closed* today, and that happens very rarely. Classes are cancelled at the university (another fairly uncommon occurrence) and so library administration felt it prudent to just shut down for the day. But again, here's the thing: there is *no snow* here. :0 We have a few inches on the ground, that's it. But so many faculty, staff and students live in the affected areas and are trapped in their homes that it seemed foolish to carry on as if nothing was happening with such glaring absences in personnel. And so I'm home today, with both children since Henry's school is also closed. Soooo...I don't have too much time to blog until my attention is demanded by a shrill voice elsewhere ;-) and thus let's get underway with November's edition of The Church Triumphant!

St. Cecilia is an ancient and important saint on the calendar, being one of the few mentioned in the official Canon of the Mass during Eucharistic Prayer I. She lived in the third century and wished to remain unmarried in the service of her faith. She was betrothed against her will to a non-Christian man named Valerian. Cecilia prayed that this man be converted, and that she might remain a virgin. According to tradition, Valerian saw a vision of an angel praying beside Cecilia. Subsequently, Valerian indeed was converted and baptized, along with his brother. Both men were later killed after being discovered giving proper burial to martyred Christians. When Cecilia saw to their burial on her own property, she was arrested. She was ordered to sacrifice to false gods and refused. For this, she too was martyred.  Yucky detail alert, which often seems to be the case in these early martyr stories :0 - when attempts to suffocate her failed, she was beheaded. Her tomb was exhumed in 1599, and her body found to be incorrupt.

Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians, and this is because a passage invoking "a hymn of love for Jesus, her true spouse" is attributed to her. In iconography,  she is always shown carrying an instrument of varying types.

St. Cecilia has a lot of personal significance to me, as she is my confirmation patron. I'm a cradle Catholic, confirmed in 10th grade, so I'm going to be honest: I wasn't at the most mature point in my faith at that time, and I chose Cecilia because I liked her name. I mean, my name is *Tiffany*. I don't hate my name, but I've never loved it. Admit it, you've read books in which a character named Tiffany was an airhead or otherwise stole the heroine's boyfriend, right? If it were up to me, my name would be Jane. Or Mary. Teresa would be lovely. Something Catholic and classic. :) Instead, I'm left defending the way Tiffany is allegedly derived from Epiphana and my feast day is the Epiphany. I mean...you understand, right? :0

I thought the name Cecilia was so feminine and pretty, and that's why I chose it. Years later, when my faith meant more to me, I researched Cecilia and found her story so intriguing. I loved reading about how brave she was, how dedicated to her faith. And I think that she had a hand in my adult faith formation, as I wrote about previously. Her late November/just prior to Advent feast day always seems to be significant in terms of faith developments for me. Coincidence? I don't think so. :)

I'm looking forward to her feast day on Saturday! Do any of you have a devotion to St. Cecilia? Detail in the comments. :)

Feast of St. Cecilia

Her feast day actually isn't until November 22nd, I just realized that I misread my calendar :) But still! Her feast is approaching, so I thought she'd make a nice blog topic. St. Cecilia is my own patron saint, the name I took on at confirmation. She is the patron saint of musicians, and lived in the early, persecuted years of the church. Impressively, she is one of only seven women (excluding Mary, mother of Jesus) mentioned in the canon of the mass during the eucharistic prayer. She was fairly young when she died, though her exact age is unknown. She desired to live a single, religious life, but was coerced into marriage. Her husband belittled her faith, but was eventually won over to Christianity by her example. Her husband's own brother was also baptised, and they developed a ministry giving proper burials to martyred Christians. Eventually, as always seems to be the case in these sad stories, both men were martyred for their activities. Cecilia too was arrested, and when she refused to revoke her faith, she was also martyred. When her tomb was examined centuries later (*yuck*! but that's what they always do with saints) her body was found to be incorrupt. That's a Catholic thing you hear about a lot. Quite intriguing.

Ok so, there's a lot going on here. I think it's a touching story, to be sure. I like her powerful example in difficult times, and the fact that she was just a regular girl. Many female saints were nuns. Also outstanding examples, but since it's a different vocation than what I'm called to, I don't relate as much. That's why I picked her.

Obviously, martyrdom is not funny, but I have to be honest and say that sometimes I find a bit of humor in these saint stories. Especially the ones that are much older, so perhaps some details have been embellished over the centuries. The saint never is simply killed. They are bundled into sharp wire, kicked around, tossed into boiling water, run through the streets while people throw stones at them, and finally, chopped into bits. They had hard, hard lives and deaths, these saints. So, for St. Cecilia, I find this on the Patron Saints Index:

"suffocated for a while, and then when that didn't kill her, she was beheaded."

Wikipedia has it this way:

"At that time, the officials attempted to kill her by locking her in an overheated sweat-house (bathhouse). However, the attempt failed, and she was to be beheaded. The executioner attempted to decapitate her three times unsuccessfully, at which time he fled. Cecilia survived another three days before succumbing. "

Poor thing not only has a hard life, but a sucky death. Relatedly, I have a book on patron saint names for the purpose of naming your child. Mike knows the rules: any child of ours has to have a saint name. Henry has two, Henry and David. This is good. For many entries, a long listing of their patronages is given. Saints are assigned to be patrons of a specific group, entity, or affliction by virtue of having had some exposure or experience to it. Mike and I were literally howling with laughter when we read one entry, which included lots of random things, such as being the patron of lace makers, ship builders and house painters, and also stated that this unfortunate soul was the patron of those " being pursued and attacked by wolves."This guy really drew the short straw in life.

But on a more serious note, I think a lot about the martyrdom of early Christians because our situation is so much different than theirs. Certainly, people are still martyred in the traditional sense, especially in other areas of the world. But in our country? You're much more likely to be ridiculed for simply *having* religious beliefs and going to church. You're looked upon as needing an "emotional crutch" or just not being very intelligent if you hold genuine religious faith. Pope John Paul II addressed this once in a speech near the end of his life, perhaps it was World Youth Day 2002, in Toronto. He called it "white martyrdom." We are all called to be white, rather than red, martyrs for our faith in these times. I think about that all the time. There are many things about me that suggest that I am traditionally religious: the jewelery I wear, the things I put in my office, the rosary beads in my car, etc. And even those small things open us up to public criticism when you least expect it. I still think it's easier for us than it was for St. Cecilia, no doubt about that. But I like to think about modern spins on age-old religious issues, and how they still apply to us, here and now.