![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Saints des Jours
Mar. 7th, 2006 12:01 amMarch 3rd, March 4th, and March 5th
March the Third:
Saint Marinus
Meet Saint Marinus, a Christian and a Roman. He died about 262. He was about to be promoted to Centurion, when a jealous rival “outted” him as a Christian. His bishop Theotecnus talked it over with him and didn’t exactly encourage him not to lose his head over this matter, but Marinus told his chiefs he was not going to give up his faith. So, as was common the government gave him a choice. I’ve decided to utilize some Sacrilegious License to help in dramatizing this decision. I’ve hired the Tweedle Bug Players, last seen on Sesame Street.
Chief: “Saint Marinus, you cannot keep your faith without losing something else. What shall you give up?”
Marinus:”Shall I give up my uniform?”
Chief: No! That’s not it!
Marinus: “Shall I give up my ‘I heart the emperor bikini briefs’?
Chief: No! That won’t work!
Marinus: Well, what shall I give up then?
Chief : Your head!
Marinus: Sweet! I’ll be a Saint! I’ll sure miss those public baths, though.
What followed was the sound of a head being emancipated from its body.
Saint Winwallus
March 3rd was a two-fer, because we also have Saint Winwallus. I’m fighting back the temptation to call him Win-wang-wallawallabingbang, and so far I’ve failed miserably.
He died in 530. He was known by several different names. Englebert says he was known as Winwallus, or Guenole or Guengalaenus. Other references refer to him as Winwaloe. Yup, this man had aliases. It’s amazing how often people changed their names, or went by other identities before there was a standard process of identification. These days, anyone with that many different names is either laundering money or under the witness protection program, or both.
He had monasteries in France and in what is now Britain. Specifically, he had Monastery on the Lizard Peninsula.( http://www.lizard-peninsula.co.uk/) Yes, there is such a thing as the Lizard Peninsula. Reading this factoid has derailed my learning process. Supposedly it is a very lovely part of Britain. And they call it The Lizard. If they could have their pick of reptiles, they had to go with Lizards. Not many lizards are cute, even as babies. Why not Turtle Isle? Turtles are cute. Now I’m imagining some ancient Brit discovering this peninsula saying, “Bly me, it’s beautiful! I shall call this land the Lizard! Even Horny Toadland would have been a step up. All things considered, Lizard does sound a mite better than Plou-Fragan, where Winwallawallawoowoo was born. Is parents were Welsh, so there’s a slight possibility that Winwallakazoo was distantly related to Tom Jones.
Anyway, Winwallywallyoxenfree was a cool fellow. There appear to be no dramatic deaths, no Holy Death Breath fights. He spent the last of his days on the Island of Tibidi, subsisting on rye bread mixed with ash and water. Miracles were attributed to him after his death. But I’m having trouble locating specifics. Hopefully it was more than the miracle of bloating, the miracle of Holy stiffening or the miracle of chunder impelling stench.
His relics seem to be spread around France and Britain. Winwallaby got around. He has no patronage. However, in art, he was probably represented as carrying a church on his shoulders or ringing a bell. Suddenly, I miss the morbid symbolism in paintings of martyred Saints.
March 4th:
Saint Casimir. Third child of Casimir III, King of Poland. He supposedly showed many indications of wanting to be a saint, leading a pious life. His father sent him to fight a Hungarian army. He refused to engage in battle. He was encouraged by some doctors to get married. They supposedly claimed that marriage would cure a lingering illness he had. I can only assume that the malady was related to blue balls. He sounds like he had a really busy life, but he died when he was 23.
He’s the patron saint of bachelors. Shocking. Shouldn’t most saints be patron saints of bachelors? Only a handful of them appeared to have jumped the shark and tied the knot.
March 5th
Saint John Joseph of the Cross (d. 1734)
Not to be confused with Saint John of the Cross, who died a few centuries prior.
He rose among the ranks in the Franciscan order, until, at his request, he was deprived of all office and sent to be director of souls in a monastery in Naples.
That’s it. I’m quitting my job. I’m creating my own faith-based business, and my job title will be “Director of Souls”. But why stop there? I will be the Senior Vice President of Soul Engineering! Scratch that! I will be the Soul Czar! As my first duty as Soul Czar I will commission the transcontinental Soul Train! Chooo! Chooo! I got your one-way ticket to Funky town! Yeah!
Sorry, I got excited there.
This is where JJ of the C’s story stops being fun.
“His body was covered with sores which he carefully kept open with harsh disciplines.”
That’s just gross. Don’t tell me that’s when religious leaders spoke of being more holy, they meant “riddled with holes”? Nah. Annie don’t play that. He was just another dude into pain. Yes, he did great deeds for the sick.
Apparently he also slept sitting on the ground, avoided raising his eyes, and he “…remained 30 years without taking the smallest drink”. The skeptic in my adds, “…in public.”
It was said he was often ravished in ecstasy.
Yup. Pain fetish.
Apparently, there were many witnesses to his miracles and he died with a calm and smiling face.
March 6th:
Saint Colette. She died in 1447. After reading about Saint John of the Cross, I’m spent. She sounded much better by comparison. But it was written that she endured every kind of suffering. But that’s a lie. Why? Because she died before she had to read about Saint John of the Cross. Voluntary open sores! That’s so wrong!
But seriously, she was very much involved in Franciscan reform, was around during the Schism, and helped to resolve the schism between the Vatican and Avignon. Before that, she lived in a cell in Notre Dame for three years.
March the Third:
Saint Marinus
Meet Saint Marinus, a Christian and a Roman. He died about 262. He was about to be promoted to Centurion, when a jealous rival “outted” him as a Christian. His bishop Theotecnus talked it over with him and didn’t exactly encourage him not to lose his head over this matter, but Marinus told his chiefs he was not going to give up his faith. So, as was common the government gave him a choice. I’ve decided to utilize some Sacrilegious License to help in dramatizing this decision. I’ve hired the Tweedle Bug Players, last seen on Sesame Street.
Chief: “Saint Marinus, you cannot keep your faith without losing something else. What shall you give up?”
Marinus:”Shall I give up my uniform?”
Chief: No! That’s not it!
Marinus: “Shall I give up my ‘I heart the emperor bikini briefs’?
Chief: No! That won’t work!
Marinus: Well, what shall I give up then?
Chief : Your head!
Marinus: Sweet! I’ll be a Saint! I’ll sure miss those public baths, though.
What followed was the sound of a head being emancipated from its body.
Saint Winwallus
March 3rd was a two-fer, because we also have Saint Winwallus. I’m fighting back the temptation to call him Win-wang-wallawallabingbang, and so far I’ve failed miserably.
He died in 530. He was known by several different names. Englebert says he was known as Winwallus, or Guenole or Guengalaenus. Other references refer to him as Winwaloe. Yup, this man had aliases. It’s amazing how often people changed their names, or went by other identities before there was a standard process of identification. These days, anyone with that many different names is either laundering money or under the witness protection program, or both.
He had monasteries in France and in what is now Britain. Specifically, he had Monastery on the Lizard Peninsula.( http://www.lizard-peninsula.co.uk/) Yes, there is such a thing as the Lizard Peninsula. Reading this factoid has derailed my learning process. Supposedly it is a very lovely part of Britain. And they call it The Lizard. If they could have their pick of reptiles, they had to go with Lizards. Not many lizards are cute, even as babies. Why not Turtle Isle? Turtles are cute. Now I’m imagining some ancient Brit discovering this peninsula saying, “Bly me, it’s beautiful! I shall call this land the Lizard! Even Horny Toadland would have been a step up. All things considered, Lizard does sound a mite better than Plou-Fragan, where Winwallawallawoowoo was born. Is parents were Welsh, so there’s a slight possibility that Winwallakazoo was distantly related to Tom Jones.
Anyway, Winwallywallyoxenfree was a cool fellow. There appear to be no dramatic deaths, no Holy Death Breath fights. He spent the last of his days on the Island of Tibidi, subsisting on rye bread mixed with ash and water. Miracles were attributed to him after his death. But I’m having trouble locating specifics. Hopefully it was more than the miracle of bloating, the miracle of Holy stiffening or the miracle of chunder impelling stench.
His relics seem to be spread around France and Britain. Winwallaby got around. He has no patronage. However, in art, he was probably represented as carrying a church on his shoulders or ringing a bell. Suddenly, I miss the morbid symbolism in paintings of martyred Saints.
March 4th:
Saint Casimir. Third child of Casimir III, King of Poland. He supposedly showed many indications of wanting to be a saint, leading a pious life. His father sent him to fight a Hungarian army. He refused to engage in battle. He was encouraged by some doctors to get married. They supposedly claimed that marriage would cure a lingering illness he had. I can only assume that the malady was related to blue balls. He sounds like he had a really busy life, but he died when he was 23.
He’s the patron saint of bachelors. Shocking. Shouldn’t most saints be patron saints of bachelors? Only a handful of them appeared to have jumped the shark and tied the knot.
March 5th
Saint John Joseph of the Cross (d. 1734)
Not to be confused with Saint John of the Cross, who died a few centuries prior.
He rose among the ranks in the Franciscan order, until, at his request, he was deprived of all office and sent to be director of souls in a monastery in Naples.
That’s it. I’m quitting my job. I’m creating my own faith-based business, and my job title will be “Director of Souls”. But why stop there? I will be the Senior Vice President of Soul Engineering! Scratch that! I will be the Soul Czar! As my first duty as Soul Czar I will commission the transcontinental Soul Train! Chooo! Chooo! I got your one-way ticket to Funky town! Yeah!
Sorry, I got excited there.
This is where JJ of the C’s story stops being fun.
“His body was covered with sores which he carefully kept open with harsh disciplines.”
That’s just gross. Don’t tell me that’s when religious leaders spoke of being more holy, they meant “riddled with holes”? Nah. Annie don’t play that. He was just another dude into pain. Yes, he did great deeds for the sick.
Apparently he also slept sitting on the ground, avoided raising his eyes, and he “…remained 30 years without taking the smallest drink”. The skeptic in my adds, “…in public.”
It was said he was often ravished in ecstasy.
Yup. Pain fetish.
Apparently, there were many witnesses to his miracles and he died with a calm and smiling face.
March 6th:
Saint Colette. She died in 1447. After reading about Saint John of the Cross, I’m spent. She sounded much better by comparison. But it was written that she endured every kind of suffering. But that’s a lie. Why? Because she died before she had to read about Saint John of the Cross. Voluntary open sores! That’s so wrong!
But seriously, she was very much involved in Franciscan reform, was around during the Schism, and helped to resolve the schism between the Vatican and Avignon. Before that, she lived in a cell in Notre Dame for three years.
