A new day will rise again

Today is the feast of Saint Lucy, a Sicilian martyr of the Diocletian persecutions in the Third Century. When you hear the term “Christian martyr” applied to a woman of the early years of the Church, it’s almost always a young woman whose only defense of her virginity against pagan lechers is death. And so it was for Lucy, also known as Lucia, who was burnt at the stake in Syracuse. Although she did not die until given Christian rites…

Ah, good times, eh?

Well, interestingly, Saint Lucy (whose name derives from the Latin lux, lucis; light) was taken up big time by the Nordics. Interesting, but not really surprising. For one thing, when you live in areas enshrouded by darkness for months at a time, anything relating to light is highly valued.

For another, it turns out that, in pre-Christian Scandinavia, 13 December was dedicated to Lussi, a kind of female demon, who led her followers around wreaking havoc on everyone. In the period between Lussi Night and Yule, trolls and evil spirits (possibly joined by spirits of the dead) roamed the land and committed all manner of mischief. Lussi could come down the chimney and take naughty children away.

So you can see why folks might want to wrap a saint rumored to have taken food and supplies to refugees hiding in caverns (wearing a wreath of candles on her head, so as to leave both arms free for schlepping stuff) around the Old Ones’ Lussi.

This year we have an unconscionable number of refugees—from Afghanistan, Latin America, Ukraine, Syria and other places. We could use the likes of Saint Lucia to provide comfort and comforts to them all, welcome them to their new abodes (instead of, say, flying them en masse to Rwanda), show them a human face of caritas in the bleak cold of winter wars.

Ah, a girl can dream, can’t she?

In honor of Saint Lucia, we’re having “Sankta Lucia”, performed by, uh, some church choir in Sweden.

May the light of love and generosity flood the darkness of all who are displaced from their homes.