Sta Lucia fiesta

I attended the Eucharist at St Catherine's yesterday morning, and afterwards was asked by Fr Mark if I could celebrate at St John's this morning, which I was glad to do. Today is St Lucy's day, which had me remembering my stay in Taormina, and the ecumenical evening celebration in the pro Cathedral, followed by a banquet of local speciality fish dishes washed down with Prosecco.

Lucy was a native of Syracusa on the south eastern coast of Sicily. The festival of her martyrdom has been celebrated there for seventeen centuries. She was the daughter of a wealthy widow, and a Christian who wanted to dedicate her life to the service of the poor. She was killed for refusing to marry a local gentleman who didn't share her faith. By inference, her inherited wealth would have been her wedding dowry, but she wanted to be free to share it with truly needy people. 

The church has in Lucy's case, as with other virgin martyrs, celebrated her purity and chastity. I'd like to think that nowadays, a feminist reading of her story is more appropriate - interpreting her impulse to retain independence and freedom of spirit to serving others, as inspired by the Gospel.

This evening we went to Russell and Jackie's pre-Christmas soirée, with about twenty other guests, many of them friends and colleagues involved with Cardiff Steiner school. As is customary, before supper, we sit together for an hour's seasonal readings, carols and reflections before lighting the candles on the Christmas tree and singing 'Silent Night'. It's a lovely occasion

This time, Clare and I jointly contributed on the theme of Sophia/Wisdom in relation the incarnation of the Word, and Fran's Sophia icon was given pride of place in the room. As we were preparing, I wrote this poem to help gather up my thoughts.

Out of the Unknown depths of pure divinity

The Logos once uttered calls space and time

to burst into being

sowing the seeds of light and substance

incohate, uncontainable,

yet yielding to Sophia’s gentle touch

ordering and blessing all things

with purpose, form and destiny.

See how all things are made, very good!

See how the child born to dwell among us

makes visible both Logos and Sophia,

becoming one of us, one with us.

The last time I wrote a poem was in June two years ago when we were on the Danube cruise. Until I checked, I didn't realise it had been quite so long.