Patron Saints
In this week’s episode, we learn that Astarte was a Phoenician goddess responsible for many things—love, beauty, war, and hunting. Quite a laundry list! This is, as we discussed, not dissimilar to Greek and Roman polytheism. As a kid, I was absolutely obsessed with a big yellow book from the library, D’Aulaires Book of Greek Myths, which had charming illustrations and page after page of Greek gods and goddesses, most of whom were capricious and badly behaved, but came with nifty specialties. Each had fabulous powers and special dedications which determined who prayed to them and for what. So Hermes is the messenger god and herald and therefore the god of communication, travellers, and orators. Aphrodite is obviously the goddess of love and lust. Her long-suffering husband, Hephaestus, is the god of blacksmiths and artisans.
It reminds me of saintly patronage, which defines much of Catholic devotion. There are loads of tragic martyrs, holy men and women, who’ve been saddled with a particular thing - a virtue, a preoccupation, a group of people, a concern, an activity - for which they are responsible. There are the better-known ones, like St. Anthony, to whom you might pray if you have mislaid something, because St. Anthony is the patron saint of lost things. St. Christopher, patron saint of travellers, receives many prayers for safe car journeys. Devout lawyers pray to St. Alphonsus; archeologists like Max Mallowan might pray to St. Helen of Constantinople. There are saints for academics, Boy Scouts, comedians, dentists, equestrians, farmers and flight attendants, gardeners, hairdressers, ice skaters, janitors and journalists, lighthouse keepers, motorcycle riders, notaries, obstetricians, pasties and poor students, queens, radiologists, secretaries and shepherds, teachers, undertakers, veterinarians, writers, and zookeepers. There are saints for locations, for diseases and injuries, and for specific dangers. And, when in doubt, you can always turn to St Mary, who is the patron saint of cyclists, fishmongers, overseas Filipino workers, harness makers, seafarers, the Spanish Civil Guard, and pilots. But, more generally, she is also the patron saint of all humanity, so as long as you’re a person, then Mary’s for you.
In both the modern Catholic context and in Ancient Greece, Rome, and Phoenicia, too, the way to tell one god or saint from another was by their attributes, as we saw in today’s episode. Astarte is identified by her crescent moon, her doves, or her lions. Aphrodite, who was influenced by the earlier Astarte, is shown with doves, too. Hephaestus always has a smith’s hammer, an anvil, and a pair of working tongs to indicate his profession. And the saints are no different: they each get items, objects, or attributes that identify them, because without those objects, you might find that it’s quite difficult to tell the difference between a sculpture of Mary and a sculpture of St. Catherine or St Theresa of Avila or St. Margaret, or indeed any other female saint.
It does lead me to wonder what, if any, attributes I would have if depicted in a sculpture or a stained glass window. Perhaps Agatha Christie’s would be her typewriter, or perhaps her beloved terrier, Peter, sitting at her feet. And what of our heroine, the great and good Miss Marple? Surely her attribute would have to be her knitting needles and that ubiquitous fleecy white wool!
Jennifer