SAINT ITA OF KILLEEDY, LIMERICK, IRELAND - JANUARY 15

 

Saint Ita of Killeedy

Foster mother of the Irish saints

475-570

Saint Ita of Killeedy is one of those remarkable female saints that we in the West do not typically hear of on a regular basis. As far as Irish saints are concerned, we are familiar with Saint Patrick and Saint Brigid (if that) and not much else.

Catholic.org has an extensive write-up about her, so I won't reinvent the wheel, but I will just give you an idea of what an incredible and unique person she was.

First, it was said that she was the daughter of two noble lines, one of which (her father's) linked back to Felim the lawgiver, King of Tara. I am also descended from him, so she and I are distant cousins, which is something I am happy to hear, because I would hope that she would be praying for her extended family and I might ride her coat tails thereby! (Hey! I need all the help I can get!)

In the Codex Kilkenniensis, her mother was said to be descended from Saint Brigid's sister! Saint Ita was born into an incredible spiritual powerhouse, it seems to me. It is almost as if this woman was destined to become a very holy woman, based upon the bloodline and other factors.

Decorated page from the

Codex Kilkenniensis

She was baptized as Deirdre, raised in County Waterford, and was purported to exemplify the 6 essential virtues of an Irish woman: wisdom, purity, beauty, musical ability, gentle speech, and needle skills. Ita had much stronger recommendations than these, to be sure.

She was given the name "Ita" which means "thirst for holiness," because of her obviously saintly qualities. (The more I hear about this woman, the more I wish I could have met her, that's for sure.)

Early on, Ita rejected the idea of marriage, and received agreement of her father to remain unmarried. I will stop here and point out that, one of the main jobs of a father in those days was to find a proper husband for whatever daughters were in his household because women had little or no method of self-support. The responsibility for the upkeep of a woman would pass from the father to the husband upon the daughter's marriage.  For a daughter to remain unmarried, it meant that the father had to agree to support her. I am not sure what would happen if the daughter joined an already extant convent, but I would bet that the father would be required to turn over a dowry to the convent upon the acceptance of the daughter.  Saint Ita, however, wanted to do her OWN thing.  What a woman!

She eventually ended up in Killeedy and started what appears to be a double monastery, one for women and another for men, as well as a school. Saint Brendan, the great "navigator" saint,  was one of her pupils.

Incredible miracles are attributed to her, and I'll let you read about those on the links I provide at the end of this blog.

What I always find remarkable about saints such as this is that they were very sure of their vocation, from an early age. I had a sense of my destiny, as I was strongly attracted to religion from a young age, about 7, as I can recall, but because I came from a wretched family with no religious education and precious little ethical life, it was a long time before I got focused.

Ita, on the other hand, was nurtured in an intensely religious environment, and the fact that she knew so soon and with such conviction the course of her life is a testament to the spiritual strength of her family.

It is stories such as hers that convince me of how very beneficial it is to provide solid religious education to one's children - and you can't do that if you have no religious life yourself. The old cliche that a family that prays together stays together simply can't be dismissed. Not all families are ABLE to do such a thing, due to divorce, differences in religions between the parents, and all sorts of impediments, however.

I am terribly grateful to have lived as long as I have, so as to have the time to get focused on the religious path that is right for me and which gives me such unmitigated joy. It does not matter that the circumstances of my health and finances and other conditions are not ideal. When you have The Lord, you have everything. Yet, at the age of 68, I feel as if I am still at the entrance of the road to holiness. I've just stepped through the gate, and there is so much to learn and do!

Ita had a very independent character. She was no shrinking violet, and it looks to me that her strength gave others confidence in her abilities. Soon after she struck out on her own, the local chieftan, offered her land for her monasteries and school. She only took PART of what was offered. I imagine that she calculated what she could reliably handle and then refused the excess.

Women saints who strike out on their own are of keen interest to me because I am also alone.  I like to hear about their philosophies.  In the case of Ita, St. Brendan once asked her what three things God loved best and she replied: "True faith in God and a pure heart, a simple life with a religious spirit and open-handedness inspired by charity." Of course, in her answer, we all recognize the two essential things that Jesus told us are necessary: to love God with all our hearts and to love our neighbors as ourselves. In Ita's philosophy, she kept both of these principles hedged about by the simple life. I imagine that, when faced with any dilemma, her advice would be to "keep it simple."

Saint Brendan the Navigator

Ita dedicated herself to prayer, fasting, simplicity and cultivating a gift for spiritual discernment.  She was also endowed with the gift of prophecy and is considered the "foster mother of the saints of Ireland," who, along with many women, looked to her for guidance on the holy path.

Legends that have been passed down to us from her time place emphasis on her austerity. In addition to the miracles attributed to her, she created an Irish lullabye for the baby Jesus.

It is posited that she probably died of cancer, as she had a growth in her side that was the size of a pig by the time she passed.

I find it fascinating that, although she died about 1500 years ago, we know the location of her grave, which is in the ruins of Cill Ide, a romanesque church at Killeedy, where her monasatery used to stand. (The original monastery was destroyed in the 800's by Viking invaders, unfortunately.) The Romanesque Church that was built over the ruins also failed to survive, yet the site is nonetheless a popular pilgrimage spot. But another reason why I wish I could have gone to Ireland in my lifetime!

Ruins of Cille Ide

In addition to being the patron saint of Killeedy, Ita shares patronage of Limerick with St, Munchin, so many people crave her attention! There is also a nearby small town by the name of Kilmeedy (Cil M'Ide = Church of my Ita) that also has some history with and attachment to this saint.

It is helpful to me today to read of Saint Ita's emphasis on simplicity because my life, as a disabled person, requires it.  I can't afford the luxury of complex spiritual disciplines because my body and station in life are not suited to requirements. It is necessary for me to focus on the simple essentials, because I can do little else, as The Lord well knows! This reminder brightens my mood.

Both Catholic.org and wikipedia bear a long list of references for information about this truly inspiring saint.  I provide links here.

CATHOLIC.ORG

WIKIPEDIA

I will pray for you all, as I hope you pray for me.

God bless us.

Silver Rose

SAINT ADELAIDE OF ITALY, MY 30TH GREAT AUNT

Saint Adelaide of Italy

(Sometimes called Adelaide of Bergundy)

931-999

My 30th Great Aunt

Most days of the year have quite a number of saints whose feasts we celebrate in the Catholic and Orthodox churches. Typically, the men are the most famous and get the most attention, while the women remain but a whisper in the background, which is why I like to concentrate on the female members of this august body, and I take great pleasure in the fact that quite a number of them are related to me. It is my hope that something of their holiness and sanctity travels down to me in our shared blood connection - our DNA. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

Saint Adelaide was the sister of King Conrad I "The Peaceful" of Bergundy, who was my 29th Great Grandfather. This family connection was researched primarily through history books and thepeerage.com, a thoroughly researched historical website that documents the families of the peerage of Great Britain and other prominent European families.

Of course, many of the women whose sainted reputations have been conveyed to us over the centuries, were also prominent figures in political history: queens and princesses. In fact, this particular saint is the patron saint of princesses, as well as abuse victims, brides, empresses, exiles, in-law problems, parenthood, parents of large families, prisoners, second marriages, step-parents, and widows.

I like to draw upon the power and dignity of figures such as these - women who sacrificed themselves for the greater good, usually for the sake of their country alliances as well as our God, and whose memory is retained in classical works of nonfiction.

Adelaide was one of those princesses who was offered up to a rival to create a more pleasing relationship with a competing kingdom, the first time at age 15, when she married Lothair II, the ersatz King of Italy, but this union barely had time to produce one child, Emma, before Lothair II died, probably of poisoning. Certain factions then tried to force Adelaide to marry the son of a Lombardy king who hoped to increase his power, but, after a few months of imprisonment, she fled to the protection of Otto I of Germany, instead, thereafter marrying him.

It is interesting to note that, breaking with custom, the Pope crowned her as Holy Roman Empress at the same time that her husband Otto was crowned Holy Roman Emperor. It says something about the esteem with which she was held in the hearts of the people of that day. They respected her, which is saying something, since women were typically nothing more than chattel in that era.

OTTO THE GREAT

Despite being used as a biological chess piece in the world belonging to men, it appears that Saint Adelaide's strong religious temperament had always been a feature of her character. She maintained a long and continuingly close relationship with Cluny, a powerful abbey in France, dedicated to St. Peter, and the center of ecclesiastical reform in that day.

CLUNY ABBEY

Saint Adelaide retired to a nunnery that she founded in 991, called Selz Abbey. She died on this date in the year 999, a handful of days short of the year 1,000 - the year that many hoped and believed would bring the second coming of Christ.  Yet, here we are, well into the 2,000 years, and no sign of Him. We could certainly use him now.

SELZ ABBEY

Even to this day, women who have discharged family responsibilities, outlived husbands (and sometimes children) are left wanting only God and, if they have money and can support themselves and a few other women, will start some sort of monastic institution and live out their days communing with the Lord. It reminds me of my current state in life, except that I live in an apartment because I am poor and can do little to rectify that situation, since I am also disabled.

While the typical trappings of the grand monastic life of a "retired' Holy Roman Empress are beyond my reach, a prayerful heart is not, so, like many of my readers, I continue on here, living the solitary monastic life of the accidental hermit.

As a person who has been subjected to abuse, I call upon the prayers of Saint Adelaide, the patron saint of abuse victims - which means that I ask her to intercede for me, just as I might ask you to pray for me, out of the goodness of your heart. I know that Adelaide was used as a pawn in the hands of the men, for the purpose of cementing political alliances and other considerations of earthly power, yet she maintained her devotion to the Heavenly powers above all else and, for this reason, she is inspiring to me.

Just this Saturday, I had occasion to call upon the sobriety and poise of a saint. I had to go to the grocery store.

Shopping is a generally traumatic event for me, mostly because of my physical disabilities and the pain and inconvenience they cause when I try to attend to my survival needs.

First of all, when I arrived at the Smiths Grocery on Constitution and Carlisle, I discovered that, although they had 3 or 4 battery-operated carts, one of them was completely dead and immovable and was blocking all the others. This is fairly typical of most stores that keep these handicap vehicles available for customers. You can tell by the manner of upkeep just how little they really care about the handicapped patrons and how little thought they put into our needs.





Since I was only purchasing 3 small items, I took the chance that I could stand in line with my cane and still make it back to my car. I was disappointed to see that, in that entire store, there were only two lanes that were open and had a human being at the helm. I am unable to deal with the computerized self-service checkouts and I also object to replacing human beings with machines, so I never get into those lines. Instead, I hobbled up to the closest line, which was clogged with people whose carts were overflowing.

There I was, leaning on my cane, carrying two bags of fresh cranberries and a tiny little smoked ham that fit in the palm of one hand. I smiled and commented to the man in front of me, "you'd think that on a Saturday they would open a few more lanes."

The man, who was about my age, turned to me with an unpleasant expression and informed me that, if I did't like it, I was free to stand in line at the self-serve. Perhaps he thought I was trying to get him to let me get in line ahead of him, when I was actually trying to make my waiting time in line as agreeable as possible and distract myself from the awful pain that was creeping up my legs.

Then again, I have turned into my grandmother, in some respects. When I was in my 20's, it used to embarrass me no end when she would turn to some stranger and strike up a conversation, but now I do it all the time myself. Everyone I run into in this world is my neighbor, either my neighbor in my apartment complex, my street, my grocery store or my town. They're my neighbors, and I am enjoined to love them, no matter how rude or inconsiderate they behave.

Typically, I will draw a slow, warm smile and continue chatting as if I do not understand or receive my neighbor's lack of charity, and that is exactly what I did this day. I didn't push myself on this man, however, since he was surly and I didn't want to aggravate him, but I DID call upon my sainted ancestor ladies for guidance and help getting through the line, with as much gravitas as I could muster. If I was a saint, what would I do? How would I behave? I ask myself questions like these during difficult times. I don't pretend to be successful in my efforts to emulate my sainted ancestors, but I do try.

I stood there, leaning on my cane, gamely smiling, for a good 20 minutes, while this man loaded a cartful of cans and boxes onto the counter. Not a vegetable in sight. It occurred to me that perhaps he was constipated, with a diet like that, and he was in a bad mood because he hadn't gone to the bathroom in 3 days. Then he handed the clerk a fistful of coupons. All of this could have been done with the computerized self-checkout that he recommended to me, so I also wonder why he did not avail himself of it. It's not like he had to weigh any vegetables!

It took a long time to get from the store to my parking spot. As I've explained before, there is not enough handicap parking at this location.

The pain was so great as a result of the physical challenge of standing in the grocery store, that I was unable to do anything but sit in my recliner the rest of the day. I could not cook a meal or clean my house, take a shower or  do anything on my feet. In fact, it was one of those days when I was unable to even change out of my clothing, and I ended up sleeping in the dress I wore to the store that day. I fell asleep in my recliner, exhausted, and woke early in the morning on Sunday.

Donald Trump mocks this disabled reporter

What is really needed is a low-slung van of some sort - a van that can be tricked out with a ramp onto which I could drive my electric scooter, so that I am not at the mercy of shop keepers and store owners. I cannot rely upon those people to meet my needs. I have begged for several  years now for funds to purchase a van and pay for it to be equipped for my electric scooter, but disabled old ladies without an exciting sob story get very little traction in the world of philanthropy. There are also a LOT of old disabled ladies living in little city apartments. America is not doing a good job of taking care of their elderly, and Americans do not care much about the poor, the disabled, the senior Americans, unless there is a great story attached. I am ordinary and therefor boring.






There is also the tendency of comfortable people to impugn the character of the poor. Whenever I talk about the poor, the first thing said is usually something about drugs, ignoring the fact that MOST poor people do not take illicit drugs and MOST poor people are NOT able bodied people who "refuse to work."

Then there is the Trump factor. I disapprove of Trump's lies, misogyny, and xenophobia, his prejudice against the disabled and other minorities; his criminal; unethical self-dealing; and his vulgarity. On top of all this, he is a terrible bully - mocking disabled people and others who are weaker and have less power than himself. He punches down, and I don't like it.

I have spoken frankly about this, at which point "Catholics" in real life, on Facebook and here at my little blog, have shunned me because of it. Even a donor in IRELAND took umbrage at my disapproval of Trump and withdrew her occasional assistance with increasingly passive aggressive, then angry emails. It is the first time in my life that people have snubbed me for a political purpose. I do not pretend to know the hearts or minds of people trapped in the Trump cult and won't venture a guess about motive or incentive, but it does seem rather small and peevish to me. Our American democracy celebrates our freedom of speech, among other things, and to retaliate against a handicapped woman for expressing a different political perspective is the antithesis of our democratic philosophy, and certainly does not comport with general Christian values.

Anyway, I digress. For whatever reason, my disapproval of Trump or my boring story, the point is that my efforts at begging have not been terribly fruitful and, although I am leaving the "donate" button on this blog, I have stopped flogging my GOFUNDME CAMPAIGN . It doesn't seem worth the humiliation.

For all these reasons, it is even more important for me to become better acquainted with the saints, many of whose lives were more painful, more stressful and more poverty stricken than mine (except for the empresses and princesses. THEY probably do not run out of food at the end of every month! Their sacrifices and trials were of a different nature.)  The saints typically offer up the difficulties - and many of them did, indeed, die much sooner than they would have if they'd had their survival needs met, but there is no indication that they did much, if anything, to take care of their health or longevity. I am usually pro-active about my health, but perhaps that is the wrong way to go.

My 30th great aunt, Saint Adelaide of Italy, whose feast day we celebrate today, may not have suffered privations, per se, but she was used as a pawn in a political chess match in which her body was traded for political power. I wonder if she really gave consent to either of her marriages. Her consent did not appear to be necessary at the time. Regardless, I look to her as an example of how to survive in this brutal world with a little grace and dignity, AND, especially, without losing faith! That is the most important aspect.

God bless us all.

Silver "Rose"

SAINT OLYMPIAS AND THE TOPIC OF FEMALE DEACONS

Saint Olympias (Olympia) 

Far left

(360-365 until July 25, 408)

One of today's saints is a female deaconess named Olympias (modern: Olympia). There is quite a lot known about her, as she was mentioned in the extant historical references around the turn of the 5th century. I found quite a few icons of her on the internet, and many pages dedicated to her from various sources. (See the list of references, below.)

Why do we know so much about her, while other saints we have previously mentioned remain a virtual mystery, except for their names? Well, it doesn't hurt to be born to a Senator and the daughter of an emperor and to be related to other famous and influential people of the time. In addition, her life was chock full of good works. When her parents died, she distributed their wealth to the poor. She was equally generous to the Church and its charitable institutions and monastic houses.

In addition, she had the admiration of other saints, John Chrysostom, for one, who called upon her and the other deaconesses (Pentadia, Proklia & Salbina) to remain with the church and serve his successor, after he himself was banished.

Sure enough, however, when one becomes famous for holiness, there are always those who will attack the saints, even persons belonging to the faith, human nature being what it is. Patriarch Theophilus (385-412) was so jealous of the devotion of Olympias for Chrysostom that he caused her some hardship for it. Theophilus had been the recipient of much of Olympias's generosity in the past, but his loyalty evaporated from the heat of envy. Even the saints have their frenemies! For me, it is a good object lesson about human nature. One can be doing and saying the most holy, pure and upright things, and still there will be people who will try to make one suffer for it - even those who are supposedly "religious!"

In fact, Olympias and other supporters of Chrysostom were wrongly accused of burning down a large church in Constantinople, and she was made to pay a huge sum of money in recompense, even though she was entirely innocent. The first thing that occurred to me when I read about this incident was that people, even church people, will sometimes go to great lengths to grab money away from innocent persons by accusing them falsely of some crime or character defect.

Obviously, it takes a great deal of self-control and self esteem in order to maintain the extremes of holiness that the saints exhibit.

Olympias's feast day also makes me think about how difficult it is for women to accomplish anything in the church these days, and how they were shoved out of the Diaconate many centuries since. Some people will say that the Diaconate was a different sort of proposition in the early church and that the title of Deaconess for a woman was an honorific or a generic title for a lady who gave much service to the church, but this is a weak argument for continuing to keep women out and for ignoring the feminine voice in the church.

It occurs to me that the current world-wide sex scandals of the church are a reflection of the heavily masculine nature of the hierarchy, but I have no studies to offer that back up my impression. It is just something that occurs to me now and then, and I wonder if the power of the church needs to be more equally divided before we will experience a balanced application of the faith.

Pope Francis opened an investigation into the topic of  women in the Diaconate. I wonder what happened to that?

In any case, Olympias is a wonderful role model and I feel encouraged to count her among the saints to whom I direct my requests for prayers! May she help me simplify my life and better direct it to the work of the Lord. Amen.

Silver Rose

References:

ORTHODOX CHURCH IN AMERICA

NEW ADVENT CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA

CATHOLIC EXCHANGE

LOYOLA PRESS