Reading Notes: Women Saints, Part B - Saint Cecilia

Saint Cecilia of Rome

Notes: I was drawn to this story for obvious reasons. My name is Cecilia, too, and my parents actually named me after a Simon & Garfunkel song that is apparently a reference to Saint Cecilia being the patron saint of musicians. It's about how creative whims come and go, and it's actually a really interesting allegory (click here if you want to read more about the song's origins, and here for a link to the song itself). So, that being said, I was drawn to this story for that reason, and also because I was a musician when I was younger, and I was later told by my boyfriend's family that because I shared her name and practiced music, Saint Cecilia must be watching over me. Not sure if I believe that or not, but it is nice to think about. Living in a majority-Catholic country for so long, I actually heard more references to the saint than I had ever heard growing up in the States. My landlord actually threw a small party for me on her feast day, November 22, and my friends came and brought flowers, and we ate food, and danced, and it was a really sweet day. Saint Cecilia, for me, has always been associated with nice memories.

As nice as my feelings for her are, however, Saint Cecilia's story is pretty intense. When she marries, she convinces her husband and then her brother-in-law to convert, and the couple gets their crowns of "roses and lilies" that apparently only the faithful can see, but then her husband and his brother, and those they convert, are told by Rome's provost, Almachius - (which, according to my Google search, is a kind of administrative leader, but I think within this historical context we can refer to them as princes, since Italy wasn't unified until the 1800s, and this was more around the year 200 AD, so there was no overarching governing body - that they must make a sacrifice to Jupiter, or be executed. Holding onto their faith, they refuse to worship Jupiter, and are killed. Cecilia takes their bodies and buries them, seemingly with little emotion, but that might just be the storytelling style. She is then brought to Almachius, who makes the same demand of her that he had made of her husband, and Cecilia refuses. All this time, Cecilia has been preaching to others and converting them, and sending them to a priest, Urban, to be baptized. When she is brought in to Almachius, she even manages to convert his men. 

St. Cecilia (Source: Regina Magazine)

I like how Cecilia stands up to Almachius, who is questioning her, and as she answers back with her own questions and what seems like a bit of sarcasm, he essentially asks, "Do you know how powerful I am?" And she basically responds, "Doesn't matter." Now, here are the miracles: Almachius demands that Cecilia be burnt in something called a "bain," which from the context I gather is a bathtub or something, but she is unaffected and actually finds it "place cold and well attempered." Almachius then commands that she be beheaded, and the executioner strikes her three times, and she doesn't die immediately. I think her head doesn't come disconnected, somehow, which I don't even want to imagine, but...anyways, the executioner cannot hit her a fourth time, for some reason, so he leaves her to die. For three days afterward, she lies in her house and continues to talk to and convert people, and send them to Urban. When she finally dies, he buries her body on holy ground. It's a sad story, because of how she dies and everyone she converts is essentially condemned by Roman law, but again, her dedication to her faith and the power she must've had to be able to convert so many people, is impressive. Whether or not I share her faith, I'm pretty glad we share a name.

Bibliography: The Golden Legend, edited by F. S. Mills (1900)