The Way of Mary: Chant!

 Good Friday morning, Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. It has always struck me as ironic that we read the "Stir Up" collect, wear pink or rose vestments for Refreshment Sunday, and light the 'joy' candle this Sunday. And then, before the week is out, we observe "The Longest Night" and celebrate "Blue Christmas" services for those for whom Christmas isn't so "merry and bright," much less joyful.

We are moving closer, in proper order, to the O Antiphons which begin on the 17th and the Winter Solstice on the 21st. Ms. Conroy finds herself filled with inexplicable joy at the mere mention of the advent of the O Antiphons.

We both enjoy listening to the modern version of the O Antiphons chanted by the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, PA - the order of the fabulous Sr. Joan Chittister - but there really is something amazing about the Plainsong version. We especially love it chanted by women's voices, especially the Sisters of the Order of St. Helena.

So, today, as we journey on The Way of Mary, the word is Chant!

Today is also the Feast of Lucia of Syracuse (c. 283 – 304 AD), also called Saint Lucia or Saint Lucy. Unlike yesterday's saint, Mary of Guadalupe, we observe her day in The Episcopal Church as a "Lesser Feast and Fast". (I suspect a not-too-distant General Convention will soon fix that, given the growing number of Hispanic people in The Episcopal Church.)

One of my favorite memories is listening to the nuns chant a hymn to Santa Lucia in the church named after her in the little Italian section of Newark, NJ.

Her feast day brings back memories of sitting in that cold church - Father would never turn the heat on for a midweek service ("Whaddya think I am, Rockafella?") - and watching the Guido Men in their puff-down winter jackets process the statue of St. Lucy around inside the church.

What a sight! There was the statue of St. Lucy, a palm frond or sword in her right hand, and a platter with two eyes in her left. She is the patron saint of Syracuse, Sicily, and of virgins, which, it is said, is one of the toughest assignments in the pantheon of saints.

Because some versions of her story relate that her eyes were removed, either by herself or by her persecutors, she is the patroness saint of the blind.

She is also the patron saint of ophthalmologists, authors, cutlers, glaziers, laborers, martyrs, peasants, saddlers, salesmen, stained glass workers, photogrammetry, and of Perugia, Italy. She is invoked against hemorrhages, dysentery, diseases of the eye, and throat infections.

According to apocryphal texts, Lucy came from a wealthy Sicilian family. Spurning marriage and worldly goods, however, she vowed to remain a virgin in the tradition of St. Agatha.

An angry suitor reported her to the local Roman authorities, who sentenced her to be removed to a brothel and forced into prostitution. This order was thwarted, according to legend, by divine intervention; Lucy became immovable and could not be carried away.

She was next condemned to death by fire, but she proved impervious to the flames. Finally, her neck was pierced by a sword and she died.

Oh, the things we do for Jesus, eh?

I just remember little Santa Lucia church in Newark with a shrine in her name which was reportedly blessed by "The Pope" (Nobody could remember which one b/c it didn't really matter - "It's the Pope, stunad!") and the big, beefy Guido men who would pick up the statue of St. Lucy from her base (after someone called out quietly 1, 2, 3 - GROAN!) in the chapel surrounded by the crutches and canes people who had been healed by her and the rosary beads of women whose infertility had been healed by her.

There were reports of miracle births attributed to St. Lucy.

The men carried St. Lucy around the church - puffing white breath smoke as they walked (she must have weighed a ton!) while a little Italian girl, robbed in white with a HUGE crown of plastic greens and electric candles on her head carried a palm frond and platter with holly, and the children, boys and girls from the church school, and old women in black coats and scarves and young women with coats open to show their ample cleavage followed the statue around the church singing "Santa Lucia".

The children always left some coffee for Lucia, a carrot for the donkey, and a glass of wine for Castaldo, her escort, to thank her for the gifts she brought to the good children - but the bad children would be left a piece of coal.

They were sternly warned by Father that they must not watch Santa Lucia delivering these gifts, or she would throw ashes in their eyes, temporarily blinding them.

See also: The things we do for Jesus!

I can never hear that wonderful hymn, Santa Lucia, without that memory wafting in through the cobwebs in my brain. It never ceases to cause me to smile.

That's the power of music, especially this time of year. Hymns, Christmas Carols, O Antiphons all bring back powerful memories of the magic of wishes and dreams and prayers.

It's a wonderful part of Advent which fills my heart with gratitude. Well, except for hearing the Trinity of Evil Christmas Songs: "All I Want for Christmas," "Little Drummer Boy," and (oh, no, not . . . .) "Mary Did You Know?"

Off I go then, into the day, with the song of Santa Lucia in my head and in the ears of my heart.

Remember to leave out some coffee for Lucy, a carrot for her donkey, and some wine for her escort, Castaldo. Do it with gratitude and a smile and watch how your perspective and attitude change.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.