
The Christian calendar attributes a certain number of saints to each day of the year. As a consequence, it is very common to give the name of one of those saints to the child born on that day. That is why the first name is called Christian name. For example, my father is called André, because he was born on the day of St. Andrew.
In some countries, not in Portugal, there is also the day of the saint, which is celebrated when the first name is different from the names of the saints of the birthday. For example, my mother is called Luísa and she was not born on the day of that saint. Being Spanish by birth, she celebrated St. Louisa’s day in her youth. That is my case exactly, but, as I was born in Portugal, I never did.
Nevertheless, some time ago, I looked up in the Catholic calendar to see who the saints of my birthday were. Saint Cyprian and Saint Justine of Antioch were at the head of the list for the 26th September, my birthday. I say were, because they aren't anymore. A few years ago, Pope John Paul II revised the Catholic calendar, setting for worship the saints that had a probable existence and letting the others, known as fabulous, on the shelf. Perhaps the most famous of these is Saint Christopher; yet Saint Cyprian has a very special place in Portuguese belief.
Although set in an oriental scenario, the story of the wizard Cyprian, who converted to Christianity when he realised his magic had no power over the Christian Justine, has long been forgotten in Europe, except in the West of the Iberian Peninsula: Portugal and Spanish Gallicia. Here we can buy The Book of Saint Cyprian almost everywhere, a book which shows how Christianization was processed: like cement (made of tradition, ritual, myth and history) moulded into a new cosmovision. Here people worship a saint wizard. No matter how much the Church tried to convene, through a fabulous story, that magic is wrong, the reply from the people was to congregate saint and wizard, white magic and black magic, without caring for the contradiction.
The first part of the book is the Hagiography of the Saint, written by the Church. The second is a Treaty of Practical Sorcery, supposedly the book written by Cyprian the Wizard and burned by Cyprian the Saint. The third part is an Itinerary of the Treasures of Gallicia. It ends with a few Prayers. Of course the book was, and still is, forbidden by the Church, which has advised against it for centuries. People were always afraid of it, but it never disappeared from their sight. They kept on digging in the woods of Gallicia, looking for the lost treasures, and there were also those who used the witchery recipes, even nowadays.
Is it just superstition, or is it also a reminder of ancient knowledge long forgotten? Surely it has something to do with The Way of Saint James of Compostella, a very old route of Initiation in Gallicia. And surely it is at the roots of the myth of Faustus, which has a Portuguese origin for certain (Cf. Existe uma conexão ibérica em Star Wars ?-posted on the 12th November) . All in all, it has to do with Portugal, with our pagan (then Christianized) religious origins. Equinoctial origins I call them, as we are the most western country of Europe, therefore the place of Autumn, where the Sun/Summer sinks in the horizon. It makes sense that on the 29th September the Catholics worship the Archangels; as far as symbols are concerned, they carry the same meaning of Cyprian and Justine: the dark and light in one, in the service of God.
Therefore, I’m really interested in my fabulous saints, as you see, and I’ve been studying this subject for a long time. Unfortunately, I cannot find Catholic images or paintings of them anymore. The icon you see above is Orthodox. For me, this time, the conservatism of the Orthodox Church proved more coherent than the Vatican updates, as my equinoctial saints keep on being worshipped by the Orthodox on the approaching 2nd October, which is the Catholic feast of the Guardian Angels.
In some countries, not in Portugal, there is also the day of the saint, which is celebrated when the first name is different from the names of the saints of the birthday. For example, my mother is called Luísa and she was not born on the day of that saint. Being Spanish by birth, she celebrated St. Louisa’s day in her youth. That is my case exactly, but, as I was born in Portugal, I never did.
Nevertheless, some time ago, I looked up in the Catholic calendar to see who the saints of my birthday were. Saint Cyprian and Saint Justine of Antioch were at the head of the list for the 26th September, my birthday. I say were, because they aren't anymore. A few years ago, Pope John Paul II revised the Catholic calendar, setting for worship the saints that had a probable existence and letting the others, known as fabulous, on the shelf. Perhaps the most famous of these is Saint Christopher; yet Saint Cyprian has a very special place in Portuguese belief.
Although set in an oriental scenario, the story of the wizard Cyprian, who converted to Christianity when he realised his magic had no power over the Christian Justine, has long been forgotten in Europe, except in the West of the Iberian Peninsula: Portugal and Spanish Gallicia. Here we can buy The Book of Saint Cyprian almost everywhere, a book which shows how Christianization was processed: like cement (made of tradition, ritual, myth and history) moulded into a new cosmovision. Here people worship a saint wizard. No matter how much the Church tried to convene, through a fabulous story, that magic is wrong, the reply from the people was to congregate saint and wizard, white magic and black magic, without caring for the contradiction.
The first part of the book is the Hagiography of the Saint, written by the Church. The second is a Treaty of Practical Sorcery, supposedly the book written by Cyprian the Wizard and burned by Cyprian the Saint. The third part is an Itinerary of the Treasures of Gallicia. It ends with a few Prayers. Of course the book was, and still is, forbidden by the Church, which has advised against it for centuries. People were always afraid of it, but it never disappeared from their sight. They kept on digging in the woods of Gallicia, looking for the lost treasures, and there were also those who used the witchery recipes, even nowadays.
Is it just superstition, or is it also a reminder of ancient knowledge long forgotten? Surely it has something to do with The Way of Saint James of Compostella, a very old route of Initiation in Gallicia. And surely it is at the roots of the myth of Faustus, which has a Portuguese origin for certain (Cf. Existe uma conexão ibérica em Star Wars ?-posted on the 12th November) . All in all, it has to do with Portugal, with our pagan (then Christianized) religious origins. Equinoctial origins I call them, as we are the most western country of Europe, therefore the place of Autumn, where the Sun/Summer sinks in the horizon. It makes sense that on the 29th September the Catholics worship the Archangels; as far as symbols are concerned, they carry the same meaning of Cyprian and Justine: the dark and light in one, in the service of God.
Therefore, I’m really interested in my fabulous saints, as you see, and I’ve been studying this subject for a long time. Unfortunately, I cannot find Catholic images or paintings of them anymore. The icon you see above is Orthodox. For me, this time, the conservatism of the Orthodox Church proved more coherent than the Vatican updates, as my equinoctial saints keep on being worshipped by the Orthodox on the approaching 2nd October, which is the Catholic feast of the Guardian Angels.
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