Yes, it’s true! St. “Muggle,” appointed saint for April 27th, has now been immortalized in a short film I made for the First Congregational Church of Berkeley’s “Daily Digital Divine” series, last month (April 2020).
Here it is, for your delectation: 8+ minutes of fun! Plus you get to learn how best to burn frankincense for your at-home prayer-time!
Enjoy!
https://www.dropbox.com/s/mgexhq2jmomoh0l/Combined%20Maughold.mov?dl=0
Those of you who have this fun book will have admired Cathy Rylander's gorgeous scratch-board illustrations throughout. What fun to discover that on Saint Nicholas Center website has her art for one of our anchoring saints, at http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/clip-art/
It claims to have the rights, but I do notice the book's name underneath. See if you don't agree it is the best-looking art of the bunch: the simple hand holding three balls of gold, one for each of the penniless girls.
If you DON'T have the book but long to know more about these girls and the three balls of gold, here is a treat for you: the original play Tres Filiae ("Three Daughters" for those of you without Latin) by yours truly, and performed by kids, teachers and just regular folks many times... Enjoy the doggerel verse, and comment below, if you like!
Tres Filiae (“Three Daughters”): A Miracle Play of St. Nicholas
by K. M. Lucchese
Works well performed at parties or in chapel, by students alone, students and teachers, or (for a special treat) by teachers alone.
Dramatis Personae
Narrator (and Rooster)
Nobilis Pauper, a formerly wealthy nobleman
Prima, filia pauperi (“daughter of the Pauper”)
Secunda, filia pauperi (yup, the second daughter…)
Tertullia, filia pauperi (you got it: the third)
Sanctus Nicholas, episcopus Myrae (“bishop of Myra”)
Venalicia Foeda (“Horrible Female Slavedealer” – change to Venalicius Foedus for a male)
* Ianua, the door
* Fenestra, the window
* Primus Saccus Aurei (“First Sack of Gold”)
* Secundus Saccus Aurei (“Second…”)
* Tertius Saccus Aurei (“Third…)
(* added to make enough roles for 12 students; may be removed as desired.)
[There is a simple stage-set: upstage, a human window frame, a human door, and downstage a kneeling rail or row of chairs, representing a fireplace, plus a wide pallet with an old quilt midstage, a chair near the window, to the left and upstage of the fire, and a bench directly to the right of the fire.
[For costuming, simply put over regular clothes: a dressing gown, night-cap and slippers for N.P., flannel nighties for the Filiae, a bishop’s mitre for S.N., a flashy cape for V.F., a cardboard window frame for Fenestra, a cardboard door for Ianua, and a broad gold ribbon for the neck of each Saccus (or a simple label: “Sack of Gold #1” etc). Each daughter needs a large knit stocking (or a pair) to hang on the “fireplace.” If you don’t use human sacks, three foil balls of pennies, sprayed gold, should be easy to slip into and out of the stockings.
[NOBILIS PAUPER sits a little apart on the chair by the window, smoking a long pipe or stroking his sneaky old chin. The FILIAE sit on the bench to the other side of the FIREPLACE and pretend to be darning their stockings with imaginary needle-and-thread.]
NARRATOR:
This is a story of Nicholas the great
who raised three girls out of their lowly state
and saved them from a life of shame
and brought upon himself undying fame.
We open in a wretched hovel, chill and bare,
on a narrow street in Myra Town the Fair.
Here is a door has seen good fortune come and go,
and window shutterless and open to the snow,
And fire itself so starved of food for heat
it scarcely keeps the chilblains off their feet.
NOBILIS PAUPER:
[to the audience]
Pity me, Nobilis Pauper, once a man of means,
Now fallen on hard times, and hatching endless schemes
To keep myself well fed, and my daughters shod,
And them demanding dowries, for the love of God!
PRIMA:
[a little haughty]
I, Prima, the eldest, wedded first should be,
But linger on in spinster poverty!
SECUNDA:
[a little whiney]
And I, though Secunda, still deserve some hope,
But what is there to do but sit, and mend, and mope?
TERTULLIA:
[indignant]
And I, Tertullia, though fairest, am abandoned, too.
I ask you, Sisters: what are we to do?
In Myra, it is not allowed
to marry maidens unendowed!
PRIMA:
Bishop Nicholas has said that, if we pray,
Then better luck will surely come our way.
SECUNDA:
Good Bishop Nicholas has served the church since he was eight!
What in the world would he know of our state?
TERTULLIA:
Nicholas is a kind and sensible man
Who will help us, I know, if anyone can!
FENESTRA:
[to the audience]
And here is Bishop Nicholas, in his silks and furs!
Will he mark the plight of his parishioners?
SAINT NICHOLAS
[Looking in at the FENESTRA, speaks to himself.]
I think I heard my name, spoke out quite clear!
I fancy I should stop awhile to hear:
If it be slander, then it were well to know,
But if be praise, then quickly will I go.
[Listens.]
NOBILIS:
Daughters, up now, off you go to bed!
Your father must think up some way to earn our bread.
PRIMA:
We will, as soon as evening prayers are said,
Hang up our stockings here to dry, and then lay down each
weary head.
DAUGHTERS:
[Together, kneeling.]
Dear Lord, please bless the poor, for so are we,
And send us husbands wealthy as can be,
For Father will not work a single stitch,
And acts for all the world as if he still were rich.
Please send us dowries so that we may leave this place!
[Crossing themselves fervently]
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost of Grace.
[They go to sleep on the pallet, close together]
SAINT NICHOLAS
[To FENESTRA]
What I have heard has given pause to think;
'Til I learn more, I shall not sleep a wink!
[FENESTRA nods wisely. S. N. peeks in.]
NOBILIS PAUPER
[Towards his sleeping daughters]
If you would leave this place, indeed you will,
But sold as slaves, my pockets for to fill!
And here is my partner, Foeda Venalicia,
for buying slaves, there’s no-one sneakier!
VENALICIA FOEDA:
[Pops in at the door, gloating]
We have a plan, as neat as it can be:
He'll tell them they are to travel on the sea,
But really, I shall take them to a house of shame!
NOBILIS PAUPER:
They shouldn't have been born girls! I am not to blame!
[The slave dealer rubs her hands in glee, and leaves]
IANUA:
What evil have I let in? Oh, keep her out!
I wish my panels once again were stout
And iron-bound, as once they were, I think,
Until this miser had the metal sold for drink!
SAINT NICHOLAS
[To the audience, through the window.]
So that is the old sinner's plan?
Hunger has made him a desperate man!
I will see what my family fortune can do
To make these maidens' dreams come true.
[Leaves. NOBILIS falls asleep. SAINT NICHOLAS returns, and the IANUA silently lets him into the house with three BAGS OF GOLD, which he slips next to the (imaginary) stockings or (if small enough), into them.]
Primus Saccus Aurei
Clang, clink! I’ll bring happiness, I think!
Secundus Saccus Aurei
Pling, plong! Food, good fires and song!
Tertius Saccus Aurei
Ting, ding! Wealth is a comfortable thing!
SAINT NICHOLAS
Thus will the girls their true lovers wed!
(Now I am off to home and into bed!)
[A ROOSTER crows. The DAUGHTERS wake and go to the fireplace.
But as they take down their stockings...surprise!]
PRIMA
Why, what is it that fills my stocking so?
SECUNDA
They were empty when we to bed did go!
TERTULLIA
[Emptying out gold.]
Praise Heaven, Sisters, let us call our sweethearts here!
With all this gold we will be merry many a year!
DAUGHTERS
[Shaking their father awake.]
Father, Look! We can all marry and be gone!
You'll have to feed three fewer from now on!
NOBILIS PAUPER
A miracle! We're saved! My work is done!
I'll visit at your houses one by one:
Your husbands will take care of me, I know...
[Looking around, and at the gold.]
But who has done this deed? Where did he go?
[They all look around, then "freeze," theatrically speaking.]
SAINT NICHOLAS
[Peeking through the window, to the audience.]
It is a joy of mine my people to deliver;
My motto is: "God loves a secret giver."
So do not ever think that I'll be found
When Christmas morning present time comes 'round,
Or any other time my work is done...
NARRATOR:
Our play is finished. Thank you, everyone!
[All rise and take a bow!]
SAINT MICHAEL and ALL ANGELS (September 29)
and the GUARDIAN ANGELS (October 2)
Angels, as we all know perfectly well, are messengers of God, and they turn up throughout the Bible whenever God needs someone from Heaven to take a message to Earth. Sometimes they carry flaming swords and stand in the middle of the road, like Balaam’s donkey’s angel in the book of Numbers, or they might appear in the middle of the night with a huge number of fellow angels, like the shepherds’ angels in the book of Luke. They are generally described as dazzlingly bright to look at, in robes too white to be washed by any human detergent, but otherwise have no particular color. There are whole long lists of different kinds of angels: Thrones, Principalities, Virtues, etc. etc. We are told in the Bible that the ones who fly about the throne of God crying, “Holy! Holy! Holy!” have several pairs of wings, but the ones in Numbers and Luke aren’t reported as having any wings. In most pictures, though, just to make sure that you know who’s who – and maybe to show that they can fly from here to there – they are shown with wings.
It does seems as though, whenever an angel appears, the first message they have to deliver to us humans is “Fear not!” because we are always terrified by their stern, firey faces and their dazzling glow. These are angels that make people jump whenever they appear, because if you don’t believe what they tell you, you might end up like John the Baptist’s father Zacharias, unable to speak until their prophecy came true! If they say: “Get up, Joseph, and take the child and His mother to Egypt!” by golly, you get up and go!
Saint Michael and the other archangels, Raphael, Gabriel and Phanuel, each has had important jobs to do for God: Michael is supposed to lead angel armies against devils with the battle-cry “Who Is Like God?” and protects those in danger or who have to go to war. Raphael helped a boy named Tobit find a wonderful fish and brought health and wealth to his whole family. Gabriel, we’ll recall, was in charge of informing Zechariah that his son John would be something special, and of telling Mary something more important, still. Phanuel or Uriel is often shown with a censer, blessing everything around with the sweet scent of answered prayer.
Some angels, though, maybe because they don’t always make themselves visible, are not frightening at all. These are what are known as Guardian Angels. Some people have felt protected on dark streets by the presence of such a spirit. Apparently, Saint Peter had a guardian angel, because when he miraculously escaped from prison, his friends thought it was his angel at the door, not him! Sometimes, if you are afraid of your enemies or of the dark, you might ask the Guardian Angels to watch over you, as in that beautiful bedtime song from Humperdinck’s opera, “Hansel and Gretel” (originally in German) when our heroes are sleepy, and lost in the woods: “When at night I go to sleep, Fourteen angels watch do keep: Two my head are guarding, Two my feet are guiding, Two are on my right hand, Two are on my left hand, Two who warmly cover, Two who o’er me hover, Two to whom ‘tis given To guide my steps to Heaven.”
GREGORY the GREAT (540-604) Pope & “Apostle” (September 3)
Anytime some historical person is called “the Great,” you can be sure that there have been just oodles of stories and even whole books written about him or her, and that is definitely true of today’s saint, so I’ll try to keep it simple. I wish I could tell you about the time when Saint Gregory made Saint Michael sheathe his sword, or about when Gregory washed the feet of an angel at his supper-table, but there it is: he just did too many things!
Most of the important things Gregory did were while he was bishop of Rome. Now if you’re bishop of Rome, you are also automatically in charge of the whole Roman Catholic part of the Christian faith, and you’re called the Pope. Back when Gregory was Pope the Christian faith was still in one piece: the Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Lutheran, none of those breaks had happened yet; it was all still catholic with a small “c”, meaning “universal.” Just “so’s you knows!” Not only was Gregory bishop of Rome, he was a local boy: he grew up on the Caelian Hill there, in the house that is now underneath a church named in his honor. In fact, he lived across the street from Saint Pammachius’ house, and he liked his former neighbor’s ideas about organizing monasteries, so Gregory actually started a monastery in his own house! This will be important to remember, later in the story.
The times Gregory lived in were smack at the beginning of the Dark Ages: Rome was still in bad shape from being invaded a hundred years earlier by Vandals and Goths, and now the Visigoths were fighting each other all up and down Italy. So Gregory didn’t just have Church business to do like preaching, or organizing the money that came in from Church lands and offerings, he also had to continue to do the business of the Prefect of Rome as well as bishop, that is: making deals with barbarians, trying to fix the water supply, feeding and housing refugees, helping sick people, training troops: all that!
But the thing that all of us who speak English are most glad he did was to send some missionaries up to Great Britain to re-Christianize things there. Ever since the pagan Angles and Saxons had taken over from the Romanized Britons a hundred years before, people had mostly had to worship Woden and Thor and trees and things, or die or move to Wales or to Brittany in France. But there were a few Christians here and there, and one of them was the queen Bertha of Kent, the part of England where Canterbury is and its own separate kingdome in those days, and she wanted a bishop and some monks very badly, and had sent a letter by way of her husband Ethelbert to Gregory, asking nicely for some.
Gregory had been pondering whether to send anyone when one day, they say, he was down near the slave markets in Rome (they still had such terrible things in those days), and he saw some boys for sale, probably stolen by pirates. Those boys had pale gold hair and pale blue eyes and beautiful rosy cheeks, such as Gregory had only ever seen in paintings, and he asked his friend what kind of boys they were. “They are Angles, your holiness,” said his friend, meaning as in Anglo-Saxons, but Gregory wittily disagreed, making one of the most famous puns in history. “No, no, my friend, they are angels!” cried he, and Gregory made up his mind to send missionaries there as soon as possible: forty monks from the monastery in his own house (remember?) along with the monk Augustine whom we call “Augustine of Canterbury.” So Gregory is called “Apostle to the English.” (And I hope he bought those boys and sent them home to England along with Augustine, don’t you?)
We don't often face death for our beliefs, nowadays, though it certainly can happen. Sigrid was a determined man living among very dangerous folk, and played off the superstitions of those dangerous folk to make some progress toward the daily peace we (almost) take for granted.
SIGFRID (died 1045) bishop & missionary (February 15)
Back in the days when the north of England was a hotbed of sprouting Christians all eager to get out and convert the world, there was a Saxon priest named Sigfrid. He came from York, the main city there, that had been a pagan Viking settlement but now was Christianized and had a big important cathedral. Perhaps the connection between York and the Norsemen was still pretty fresh, because when the people of Denmark and the people of Sweden showed an interest in changing from the old Norse religion of Woden and Thor, Frigg and the Valkyries to Yorkshire-style Basic Christianity, they sent off to York for a missionary, and Sigfrid went to do the job. Some other good York folk came along to help, including his own three nephews, Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman (believe it or not), who hoped to become priests like their favorite uncle, and always helped him out.
Off they all went to Sweden, to the court of King Olaf. The king himself was baptized, but as usual there were people who were angry about this, who didn’t want to be peacemakers but instead wanted to keep carousing like the heroes in the old tales and die happily in battle as they always had, not settle down and get Christianized! So a bunch of angry Thor-worshippers thought they’d get their revenge and one time when Sigfrid had left the mission church at Växjö and was off in the countryside, leaving his nephews in charge, they sneaked up and killed all three of them, cutting off their heads one-two-three! They also seemed to enjoy destroying everything they could. Sadly, Sigfrid returned to Växjö and, collecting his poor nephews head, returned to the court. Because he knew the Swedes at that time were very superstitious, he told the king and his court, with the murderers in the room, that the heads had told him who had killed them! The murderers jumped up to escape, and so they were caught.
King Olaf was all for executing the murderers there and then, but Sigfrid wouldn’t allow it: in Christian places like Yorkshire, he said, they merely collected blood-money from the murderers, and even that, he said, he wouldn’t accept (though he needed money to rebuild the mission). Everyone was so impressed with this whole new way of doing things that more people than ever left the cruel ways of Woden and Thor behind and became Christians like Sigfrid and his nephews. Poor old Winaman, Unaman, and Sunaman: I hope they became saints, too!
GUDULE (died 712) laywoman (January 9)
and WAUDRU (Audrey) (died 688) patroness (April 9)
Today the reason we celebrate these two saints together is that they both have short stories and they have a couple of things in common: they both have at least one other saint in the family and they were both a great comfort to all those around them!
When you see pictures of saints in churches and museums, you generally can tell who’s who even without nametags because of what art historians call their “attributes,” that is, what they’re carrying in their hands, whether there’s a dog sitting next to them, that sort of thing. Gudule’s “attribute” is a lit candle, because they say that every morning before dawn, Gudule would walk the two miles – and that’s a good step! -- from her father’s castle (which was in Belgium, not far from Brussels, where the sprouts come from) to the little church where she liked to pray, and she got up soooo early that she had to carry a candle. She and her sister Raineld had pledged each other to do holy things all their lives. Gudule had decided she would stay in Belgium and be holy there, but Raineld thought she would go to the Holy Land, which she managed to do safely, but after she got back, she was killed by some barbarian pirates in Antwerp, in Belgium, itself: those were the “Bad Old Days,” all right!
Anyhow, the very first morning Gudule tried walking to the church before dawn, at the part of the road where it was the darkest and she was the most scared, the candle in her little lantern suddenly blew out, whoosh! and Gudule thought she heard some mean laughter, so she suspected that the Devil was having a little fun with her. Then she prayed really hard for a little light, her candle came back on again with a pop! and she could go on praying and doing her good work for people in need, for the rest of her life. When Gudule finally died, as an old, old lady, they buried her under the front steps of her little church, and declared her a saint, and made her “attribute” a lit candle.
Now, Waudru (or Waldetrudis for long, or Audrey for short) was also from Belgium, from a place called Mons. She was married for a while, but her husband decided to become a monk, so Waudru became a nun, helping the poor and sick and later starting her very own convent near when Mons is today, and eventually became a saint. It was not too surprising because her whole family were saints, from her parents Walbert and Bertilia to her sister Aldegund of Mauberge to her husband Madelgaire and their four children, Landric, Dentelin, Aldetrude, and Madelberte. As it said in one book, “a very remarkable family!”
THORFINN (died 1285) bishop (January 8)
and HALVARD (died 1043) patron of Oslo (May 15) (See Map 16 for both)
Here we have two short stories about Norwegians. I have a fondness for Norwegians, since that is mostly what I am myself, and because of my relatives and reading Kristin Lavransdatter, I know a little about they’re like. Maybe the first thing you need to know about Norwegians is that they were not all of them Vikings who sailed around the coasts of Europe during the Dark Ages killing off innocent monks and carrying off as many of the womenfolk and as much of the plunder as their snaky little ships could stagger along under. Not that all the Vikings were bad, and they actually bathed once a week and their ships really were fabulous. No, some Norwegians stayed home and were fine farmers and had upright characters, a generous nature, a strong sense of honor, and a grim but well-developed sense of humor. They also believed in trolls and elves long after they became Christianized (and the ones who went to Iceland still do), so there you are: a resolute sort of people.
Our Saint Thorfinn is described as having “resolute goodness,” the sort of goodness that is expressed with big bushy Norwegian eyebrows and a tight-set mouth. In fact, while he was Bishop of Hamar, Thorfinn had to leave dear old Norway along with some other bishops because they were so resolute with King Eric II about their rights to have freely-elected bishops without the king’s interference! King Eric II had some pretty strong objections to these bishops’ notions, so Thorfinn decided to visit Rome and then go settle down near Bruges, in Belgium, being “resolutely good” there for the rest of his life, and earning his sainthood.
Our Saint Halvard, on the other hand, didn’t have to leave Norway to become a saint, and he also didn’t have to wait around for years and years to become one, either. He became a saint in just a few minutes, because he, too, was “resolutely good.” It all happened very quickly: Halvard, who was a wealthy landowner’s son from Lier (called Lierbyen, today), was just getting into his trusty boat one day to cross the Drammen Fjörd (that’s a big sea inlet, like a broad river), not far from the capital city of Oslo. He had most of his gear in the boat and was about to untie the painter (that’s the rope) and shove off, when down the slope behind him this woman comes running, just as fast as her legs will carry her, and maybe a little faster, sobbing and calling to him to take her into his boat and row her across the fjord: there were evil men behind her who were out to kill her!
Well, naturally, he took her into the boat, and they were out on the water when, sure enough, a band of furious men came pelting down the path on the slope, all armed with swords and bows, and quivers full of long, dark arrows. They yelled that the woman was a thieving slave, and that he must return her at once, but Halvard could easily see that they would not wait for any court of law but meant to kill her right then without a hearing – and she swore to him that she was innocent – so he refused to return to shore. One of the men, in a fury (he must have been a real, old-time Viking type) picked up his bow and arrows and shot them both dead, right there in the boat! Later, when it was all sorted out, even most of the “evil men” had to agree that Halvard had acted in good faith, and had died innocent, in defense of what he believed was innocence. And the Norwegians admired his resolution so much that they voted him a saint (people could just decide like that about saints in those days) and made him patron of the capital city of Oslo, hoping that everyone (especially every judge) there would always assume that everyone was innocent until absolutely proved guilty, in honor of Saint Halvard!
Your Saint of the Week story has moved from Facebook to Riparia Publications! Why? Because it is written by the same person who wrote these other things, and isn't it good to have things all handy in the same spot? Stay tuned!