Santa Lucia

Doing some research two days ago about the celebration of Saint Lucy’s feast day I kept hearing the lively and serene Italian folksong, Santa Lucia, playing over and over again in my memory. It was probably Andrea Bocelli’s voice. Or, perhaps it was Pavarotti, whom I once did have the pleasure of hearing sing it live, many years ago, in Worcester Massachusetts. I took Brother Francis to that concert. It doesn’t matter. Even though I have some ability to read Italian, I have no ear for it, none at all. So, whenever I heard Santa Lucia being sung I assumed the song was about her, not a waterfront district of Naples. Even the first verse can fool you with the repetition of the word luccica, which, in Italian, is a verb meaning “shines.” Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful song, the call of a mariner, enchanted by the serene gentleness of a quiet sea and a starry night, as he invites others to leave troubles behind and dine in his vessel and enjoy the view of Santa Lucia and blessed Naples “the empire of harmony.” In the distance, too, in view from the coast, is the church of Santa Lucia.

Saint Lucy was, and still is, a very popular saint in Naples, and, of course, the most popular in her native Sicily. She was born of noble Christian parents in the late third century in the city of Syracuse on the island of Sicily. Not far from her birthplace, in Catania, about fifty miles away, was the tomb of the virgin martyr Saint Agatha, who was slain for her Catholic Faith a half century earlier during the Decian persecution (249-253). So revered was Saint Agatha that numerous Christians came to venerate her relics, risking their lives in doing so, and many (God knows how many) were cured of various illnesses.

As a young girl, Lucy’s Catholic faith and devotion to Christ grew strong, and so did her longing to give all the material goods she had to the poor and, like Saint Agatha, she was determined to consecrate her virginity in service to God. These intentions were kept secret by her, for a while, from her mother, but after her father’s early death, her mother, Eutychia, began suffering from a serious hemorrhage. Her daughter convinced her to come with her to Catania and ask Saint Agatha for a cure. She agreed, and, upon venerating the martyr’s relics, she was cured. So grateful was Eutychia for this miraculous favor that, upon hearing of her daughter’s holy resolve, she gave her a Catholic mother’s full support. However, there was one problem. Prior to this, and without Lucy’s knowledge, her mother had arranged for her to marry a young pagan. When this man noticed Lucy’s largess with the poor, he became very upset.

Life of Saint Lucy, by Quirizio di Giovanni da Murano

The year was 303, and a new emperor, Diocletian, had passed an edict declaring Christians to be “enemies of the state.” Two years of a persecution equal to, if not surpassing, that of Decius in its cruel intensity, ensued. The rejected betrothed reported Lucy to the governor of Syracuse. First, she was condemned to a brothel, but, when they tried to drag her there, her body became rigid and immobile. Then, an executioner attempted to burn her alive, but the fire did her no harm. Finally, her neck was pierced with a sword, and her virginal soul was taken to heaven where she received the martyr’s crown.

How blessed is little Sicily! Two saints, both virgin martyrs from her soil, are honored in the Canon of the Roman Mass. Imagine that! What country, never mind island, can compare with that! Their names are linked forever in the Holy Mass: Agatha and Lucia. Nobis quoque peccatoribus famulis tuis . . . . cum Johanne, Stephano, Matthia . . . Felicitate, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucia . . . I don’t know, but this astonishes me. I go to the Traditional Latin Mass today and I read their names. Two girls. Two young girls. Both from the same island. Born within fifty years of each other. Taking on these wretched barbarians, saying: “You and your false gods be damned. We have seen enough. Jesus Christ is the One True God, the only God. Kill me for believing that! Kill me for believing and professing that!” And the angels looked on in wonder. The good angels did not have to shed their blood; they are just amazed: “Who is this?” (Isaias 63:1)

In reading about Saint Lucy I was surprised to see that not only is she the patroness for afflictions of the eyes, which is generally known, but also for Italian fishermen. That is why the Neapolitan waterfront is named in her honor. She is the saint they invoke in rough seas in the hopes that she will guide them to safe harbor with her lantern. Often, she is depicted in art with her eyes blindfolded and holding a lantern. More often, however, she is shown holding a plate with two eyes on it. This arose from a legend that, when a certain suitor flattered her about the beauty of her eyes, she, after hearing this, plucked them out and sent them to the man with the request that he leave her alone. Of course this legend is just plain ridiculous and uncomplimentary (to say the least) of our saint.  Another story was that her executioners cut out her eyes. In both stories God restored them to her. Neither of these tales are found in the Roman Martyrology, nor have I any clue where they originated.

In the history of the Church, Saint Lucy’s popularity was universal. The Greek calendar also honors her, and on the same day, December 13, as in the West. In fact some of her relics were kept for centuries in Constantinople. Too, a major portion of her relics were kept in the monastery of Saint George, in Venice. In the year 1513, the Venetians presented to Louis XII of France the skull of the saint, which he deposited in the cathedral church of Bourges. The Spanish also named an island after her in the Caribbean. Many (I am assuming hundreds) of cities, towns, villages, and churches are named after Saint Lucy throughout what was once Christendom.

Festivals are held in her honor every December 13, and not only in Italy. The Swedes, and all Scandinavians, have a special devotion to Saint Lucy, and this, even after the Reformation. After Sweden’s conversion (eleventh century), King Saint Canute IV of Denmark decided that his people should celebrate Christmas for a whole month and begin the holy days of festivity on the feast of Saint Lucy. Sweden followed suit. Lucia means “light.” Before the Gregorian Calendar went into effect (1582), the winter solstice (on the Julian calendar) began on December 13, not on December 21. So, the shortest day of the year, in King Canute’s time, fell on December 13. How fitting it was, therefore, that the festivity in these northern countries welcoming the “length of days” should begin on the feast day of Santa Lucia, the “saint of light.”