Decenber 13 Lucy

Thom and John

Good morning
I love you

12-13-08. An ordinary Saturday, less than 3 weeks to Christmas. Up and out to OLG’s 8 o’clock Mass. There’s a larger group there for advent – not quite as many as come during lent. With no other Saturday morning Mass in the city, Fr Mendes has an exclusive draw. There’s no coming for the sermon or any music – it’s the Mass per se, Eucharist, the Word and the transubstantiation, the communion of faithful. In the gothic church, after six years I’m still perusing the windows, the stations, the side altars, the ceiling – the architect of this church gave us plenty to help us get to God.

Not unlike spx [and most places] olg’s cast of Saturday morning characters are the same from week to week. The same lector. The same deacon. One of two priests [there’s been more change in priests in six years than the other roles.]. The same extraordinary ministers of communion. And, I suppose, pretty much the same people in the same pews in the church. A stylized minuet. It’s the only game in town on Saturday morning. The pastors these six years are holy men whose heart and words and presence are gracefilled and grace transmitting – tho neither is a noteworthy homilist. The usual deacon [>95/100 times] has no human or preaching appeal. Even his words are rarely enlightening or enriching. [but what do I know – I certainly don’t know the man.]

The church, ah yes, the church, even after six years, maybe 200 Masses, still has something more to catch my eye, to touch my heart, to direct my prayer, to add a touch to my meditations – and lets me light a candle [a good segue for St. Lucy, a saint of light].

And after Mass. A drive to Tex and Shirley’s. not unlike a breakfast Cheers for me. The usual country ham and eggs. One of the usual servers. Usually a recognized customer or two. An hour to eat, be served, read the paper – unrushed, even by those standing in line.

This morning I’m going to catch up on writing y’all. This afternoon, I’ll finish wrapping boxes. That’ll be a full enough Saturday, ya think? I have boxes and boxes to reorganize and repack – for y’all and others. Lots of stories wanting to be told, preferably orally but writing will have to be okay. I’ll probably go to tonight’s Mass in the spx gym – for the music and the homilist. Plus, it gives me all of tomorrow; I’ll not go to St Paul’s ‘youth mass’ because it’s Fr Bill’s turn….

Yesterday, I round tripped Raleigh. The Disability Rights board met. Maybe I’ll be an advocate down the home stretch. I’ve decided, I’m definitely going down the home stretch. I’m almost closer to 60 than 59. Maybe I shouldn’t think that 59’s been enough. When I think of the things I’m considering to do for the next ten years [whether work or volunteer], there is a terrific lots to do. When I was on the treadmill yesterday evening, doing my 5 miles [a golf course of say 7,000 yards, is 21,000 feet, that’d be 4+ miles of walking, thus my treadmill requirement], there was a twenty something guy doing his strength and conditioning exercises – with a body to prove his genes plus persistence work just fine. Me, I’ve got neither the genes or the exercise persistence to have the body I fantasize about – brief whimsies so as not to waste time on the fruitless.

I heard this morning on a health program that I have the perfect storm to become diabetic, I was told in the spring that I am pre-diabetic. And I said to myself: self, you’re almost sixty, sofuckingwhat! Maybe it’s sixty and living alone. Whatever. It’s not health per se that’s sufficient to get me to do and not do what is necessary; it’s vanity for which I have no reason, thus little vanity.

And you? What’s up with you? With all the dad questions. And a reminder of the secret of a father’s love.

I love you
dad


December 13
Lucy b. 283 d. 303.

Lucy surrendered her young life for our faith in Syracuse. Twenty, like nineteen or twenty-one, a young life, and for us an immortal one. How does your first twenty years achieve for you the immortality of our faith?

Pretty much, that’s all we know about her. Well, not exactly all. There must be much more if we are still celebrating her 1700 years later. This morning the vestments were red and the prayers mentioned her specifically. What do you know about a fourth century woman who’s been carried forward on the tsunami of our faith for almost two millennia? Or, could be, this fact tells us more about us than about her – our needs, our aspirations, our reminder of ‘never again’ that will be surely repeated over and over.

Lucy, her name means light. Yeh, it does matter what your name means. Moreso, it matters where it came from – after whom you are named, which saints are thus potential patrons from which you get to choose. [Well, there’s only one saint Kenneth, I think. That’s offset by so many Johns, I guess.]

“Lucy in the sky with diamonds….” One of my favoritest songs. Of course, Charlie Brown’s Lucy. And I’ve crossed path with a Lucy in Nashville [crossed swords might be a better description. The good Dominican Sisters became a cosmic difference between us.] None of the Lucys would make my ‘good people’ list – though good memories and a myriad of feeloughts.

We have the Bible and our tradition. There’s no Lucy in our Bible. And we have the benefits of our legends of Lucy and her what makes her martyrdom important to us. By the sixth century, our veneration of Lucy had traveled to Rome and was embedded in our Church. Lucy, courageous defender of our faith. What she did! What God achieved with and through her! If her, why not us too, ya think? Be a man of faith. Defend our faith. Know that God gives us the courage to stand in His name before anyone, even family, neighbors, classmates, ….

Lucy, we have from tradition, was a young woman who vowed her life to the service of Jesus. That’s a mouthful for a 4th century young woman in Syracuse. Her parents were Christians, though ones who lived their privileged lives without stirring up any repression from the officials. Lucy’s father was a Roman, her mother likely Greek (Eutychia – we have the mother’s name, Lucy’s of course, but what of her father?) A girl born to such a family, had no few advantages.

Lucy was a cradle Catholic. Not unlike us. And you, too, were born if not so much to rich parents, into a household that did not want for cash or stuff. Lucy lost her father in her infancy. Such euphemism! We might say that you lost your father in grammar school.? But not – neither she nor you; fathers are forever! Lucy was educated in our faith from the beginning – and to her end [unfortunately, your mother decided to stop your education in faith. She left you with your separated father, yourself, and the community which, with her, you avoid, for you to be educated. Now, nearing the peak of your educational adolescence, you have the responsibility to become educated, daily (one advantage of daily Mass).]

Lucy’s education in faith helped her assimilate her parents’, her community’s sentiments of piety. Lucy’s response to her graces led her to dedicate herself to God and to Him alone. Lucy vocation called her to distribute her inheritance to the Church and the poor; to immerse herself in the faith community: a virgin benefactor of the community. Lucy came to this vocation herself and kept it, initially, private – such a choice was not the province of a daughter. Even the daughter of a rich noble was a valuable family commodity first, a person of their own not so much.

As was the custom, Eutychia betrothed Lucy while still a youth – a familial, political, social arrangement; that’s simply the way it was. I’m a bit baffled that such a Christian mother would betroth her pious daughter to a pagan – though, maybe, Paschasius, Eutychia thought, would be like Monica’s husband. A man of Christian propensity and intention who would, as usual, seek baptism on his deathbed but in the meantime, navigate the Roman world, the world of human frailties, and allow his wife to be the Christian of her baptism. Just hypothesizing….

What would Lucy do? Love and obedience inclined her to be obedient to mother and family. Love and obedience also led her to fulfill her wish, her vow to God. How to achieve both? How to align her mother with her in the vow to Jesus.

Maybe the circumstances that evolved were God’s plan. Maybe they were the random outcome of creation which a holy and believing and clever girl took advantage of….

Fifty miles away in Catania was the tomb of Agatha, a martyr under Decian, – a site of pilgrimage and frequent miracles…. Eutychia had been suffering a hemorrhage for several years…. Lucy persuaded her mother to go with her to Agatha’s tomb. There Eutychia was cured….. Lucy took this opportunity to convince her mother to permit her to dedicate her life to God and give a great part of her inheritance away.

The story goes that Paschasius found out about both the change in betrothal and his loss of the wealth of marriage when he heard about Lucy’s gifts to the poor. And if you were Paschasius, what would you do? What, in his own time, would you recommend this jilted nobleman to do? The insult to him and his family. The loss of riches – he might not have been from a wealthy noble family and he and they might have been counting on Lucy’s inheritance to establish renewed familial security.

Paschasius betrayed Lucy to the governor. [The story goes on about what happens to Lucy. But what about Eutychia and their household? What was the effect of Lucy’s decisions and subsequent punishments on them? Why do we not hear of their martyrdom? A Paul Harvey opportunity for the story writers among us….]

The Christian woman declared herself, supported by her mother, to be a virgin bride of the Christian God. She [her family] reneged on the betrothal contract.] The Roman Governor had the perfect punishment – he’d commit her to the prostitution house before killing her when her usefulness was over. Her virginity alone would be sufficient to pay off the cost of the trial and a good part of what ole Paschasius lost. Alas, God dramatically stepped in.

And maybe this is why Lucy’s story remains with us seventeen hundred years later. Lucy dedicated herself to God. And God took care of her so that she achieved her vocation.

When the guards came to get Lucy, she was stiff as steel and heavy as a mountain. They could not take her away to be defiled…. They next tried to burn her, but the flames left her unscathed…. Finally they killed her with a sword. During Diocletian’s reign, many Christians suffered incredible torture and painful death for their faith. Lucy withstood, with God’s grace, the tests of her faith. The legends have it that her suffering included that Lucy’s eyes were put out by Diocletian as part of the torture. Thus, Lucy, the Patron Saint of the Blind.


I love you
dad