St. Katherine was the daughter of Constas, the governor of Alexandria in Egypt. She was a brilliant and avid scholar in philosophy, rhetoric, poetry, music, mathematics, astronomy, and medicine.
During a visit by the Roman emperor, a huge pagan festival was held in his honour. However, Katherine protested the Christian persecutions and refused to offer sacrifice to the gods, declaring herself a bride of Christ, the One True God. The emperor decided that due to young Katherine’s societal status, intelligence and strong spirit, she should be ridiculed, being made an entertaining, public example, and proven wrong. His plans backfired.
Fifty of the region’s top orators and philosophers were summoned to mockingly debate the superiority of paganism versus Christianity. With her face glowing Divine Grace, and moved through the Power and Wisdom of the Holy Spirit, young Katherine eloquently defended the Christian faith. She victoriously converted hundreds in the audience… including all 50 orators, the emperor’s own wife, the emperor’s imperial advisor, and 200 soldiers. She and the group of new Christians were imprisoned and martyred around the year 305 AD.
Pilgrims toSt. Katherine’s Monastery on Mt. Sinaiare given remembrance rings that have been reverently placed on her holy relics, as a blessing. They are copied from the ring she still has on her hand, from Christ.
St. Katherine is a patron saint of students, scholars, philosophers, teachers, public speakers and librarians.
By the prayers of the most wise martyr Katherine, O Christ, enlighten the darkened eye of my soul, granting me a ray of thy splendour… ~ Excerpt from Canon to Great-Martyr Katherine
The two featured photos are from a visit to Rome in 2009. Below the main floor is the Church’s Chapel of Relics. The altar with the candlesticks is situated in front of the crypt. Behind the altar’s screened gate is the repository of the second century martyrs, St. Cecilia and her husband St. Valerian.
The Church of St. Cecilia in Trastevere (a Roman neighbourhood), was originally established in the 3rd century, and built on the site of her home after her martyrdom. At the time of her death, St. Cecilia’s body was interred for five centuries in the Catacomb Cemetery of St. Callixtus. However, in the early 800’s, the Pope returned her “home” again, to her own Basilica.
On the upper floor of the main church and in front of the main altar, is the later addition (commissioned in the 16th century), of a glass case enclosing the white marble statue of St. Cecilia. A marble slab on the floor in front of it, quotes the Italian sculptor Stefano Maderno’s sworn statement, recording her miraculously incorrupt body was positioned as seen, and seemingly asleep when the tomb was reopened during the renovations in 1599.
St. Cecilia is considered a patron saint of music in the west. During her undesired earthly wedding; she heard heavenly music, and sang hymns in her heart to Christ. (In the east, St. Romanos the Melodist is a patron saint of music.)
Here is a beautiful, short, 2 minute YouTube video, with detail of St. Cecilia’s Chapel Crypt.
Yet the Lord will command his lovingkindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life. ~ Psalm 42:8
Kontakion in the 4th Tone
Let us in Godly wise, the hosts of the faithful, / sing hymns to her wedded to Christ of her own will, Cecilia, / whose pure heart with virtues was adorned; / for she wholly put to shame the conceit of Almachius, / and she shone bright as the sun amidst them that pursued her / and then appeared to those upon the earth as a divine staff // that strengthened the holy Faith.
St. Cecilia’s radiant prayers continue to God for us, and are as ever-shining as stars in the heavens.
The feature photo is a detail of one of our Church’s outdoor mosaic pathways. Its many individual shapes, and patterns point and intersect in different directions… yet as a whole, it forms a unique and beautiful design.
Such a heavenly morning! There was golden peach of a sunrise to the east, infusing all with a Gladsome light. To the west, a robin egg blue sky was backdrop to a full and splendid rainbow… God’s Beautiful Promise in the sky. Even the gentle raindrops seemed joyful!
Today is a reflection on childhood paths and dreams.
The first Sunday School Scripture I learned as a child was, Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. ~ Psalm 119:105
Accompanying this verse was a delightful felt-board illustration, with a glowing Lantern illuminating a winding path with golden Light. My younger self imagined the many future adventures along life’s byways, while keeping close within the Lantern’s safe circumference.
It was around this same age (of 8), I decided that when I was all grown up, one of my paths would be to lead a scientific expedition to rediscover the location of the Garden of Eden.
Having studied Eden’s bearings in the book of Genesis, and after researching the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in my World Atlas… I was pretty pumped at the possibility of meeting the Cherubim Sentries, who wielded a flaming sword, and guarded the Tree of Life.
Preparing for all contingencies, and in a youthful, journalistic haze, I remember drafting vague questions one might ask of Cherubim. However, Backup Plan “B” was also set, as theymight just kinda stand there sternly, and silently, doing angel-stuff. It was possible they might even not want to talk to me at all! In that case, the quest would be deemed solely a photoshoot… equipped with my beloved new Polaroid Instant Camera (pictures ready in 60 seconds) for officialdocumentation, and asproof, to some of my friends who didn’t believe in angels.
Logic set my sights on funding needed for Eden, and my paltry allowance of 5 cents per week was futile. It had taken 5 whole months to save up for a 99 cent Troll Doll with fuzzy pink hair, and another whole 5 minutes for it to be stolen during school recess.But…. maybe I could flip our family’s backyard garage into an eatery, and call it the Spaghetti and Garlic Bread OnlyRestaurant?
Although its only existing entrance was a small crawl space, the redeeming structural solution of course, would be distracting decor. Pretty red and white checkered tablecloths were to be draped over splintered, wooden crate tables, to which the patrons could drag themselves. It was a no brainer, as they would be sitting on the floor anyway at their reserved crates. I made a mental note it might be good to pay attention to the dirt, broken glass, and rusty nails littering the floors.
At the venerable age of 9, I abruptly abandoned becoming a restauranteur, and strategized instead on becoming a secret agent.
It was absolutely crucial to acquire an ivory trench coat, and my enabling mother somehow found a child-sized one at the local Kmart – but not of the coveted colour. I stoically wore the khaki, while my best friend (the analyst) wore a bright kerchief (tied tightly at the nape of her neck) like some Hollywood diva. We spoke in clipped gibberish code to each other. Together, we practiced how to walk surreptitiously – as spies do – when accompanied with the blaring strains of the Pink Panther Theme. Annoyingly, the old record skipped sometimes, which compromised any graceful serpentining around front room furniture. A clandestine drop off (of a copper penny) transpired, and our brilliant asset successfully weighed down the stylus’ needle enough to arrest further hiccups.
Although I never led that wild child’s expedition to re-discover Eden’s geographical location, the interior of our church dome doescontain the Tigris, Euphrates, Pison, and Gihon Rivers… depicted as water mosaics! They’re conveniently located above the mosaic lettering from Isaiah 25:9 (in English, ancient Greek, and Slavonic) Behold our God in Whom we hope and rejoice in our Salvation. That He may grant rest to this House.
We make our path by travelling it, and in hindsight, the paths worth travelling are bathed in the golden glow of the Great Artificer’s Light.
All treks and correctional detours have led me right here. Right now. Right where I should be.
Shew me thy ways, O Lord; teach me thy paths. ~Psalm 25:4
The soul that loves God has its rest in God and in God alone. In all the paths that men walk in in the world, they do not attain peace until they draw nigh to hope in God. ~ St. Isaac the Syrian (Homily 56, 89)
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
The Book of Ecclesiastes is attributed to King Solomon and written circa the 10th century BC. During the mid- 20th century AD, the King James Bible’s version of these verses were borrowed and adapted into a folk melody called Turn, Turn Turn.
Initially “written” and arranged by Pete Seeger in the late 1950’s, it was The Byrds’ 1965 recording of his song that made it a number 1 hit with the oldest lyrics.
The song became synonymous with that decade’s escalating protests and poignant pleas for world peace.
Even in my youth, this song made a huge impression on me, and the wise words quoted from Ecclesiastes are… Timeless.
Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. ~ Ecclesiastes 3:11
So we do not focus on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:18
Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. ~ Romans 13:11
St. Matthew’s Passion is a musical work composed by Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev. It focuses and takes us through the services of Holy Week, as recorded through the Gospel of St. Matthew. The music and Scripture are poignantly entwined. It’s beautiful.
