From Legend to Holiday

Today is the celebration of St. James the Greater, apostle and brother to St. John the Evangelist; patron saint of Spain and the reason for the existence of the city of Santiago de Compostela. We take saints seriously here. It's a holiday in the region of Galicia and our "national" holiday in which we celebrate our region and its history and culture. (Every region has its "national" holiday, generally on the day of a saint special to the region.) Unfortunately for the general public, this year it falls on a Saturday so those who don't work on Saturday have no extra day off this summer. 

St. James is attributed with having preached the gospel in Spain and northern Portugal. While he was in Caesaraugusta (Zaragoza) the Virgin Mary apparently appeared to him upon a pillar and told him to go back to Judea. He did and was subsequently martyred. With one stone we have the birth of two legends. One is of the Virgin of the Pillar (Virgen del Pilar), venerated in the basilica of Zaragoza. The other is of the beginning of the legend of St. James.

Apparently, his followers quietly took his body, secreted it in a marble sarcophagus, loaded it onto a boat, and let the currents take them to the tiny port of Iria Flavia (now silted up) on the grey and solitary Atlantic coast of Spain. From there they went north into the woods and buried him on a small hill. Almost eight hundred years later a hermit saw floating lights on the wooded hill and got in touch with his bishop, Teodomiro. The bishop had some servants dig where the lights swirled and so was discovered the sarcophagus with the remains of St. James. It is said that the first pilgrim to visit the tomb and the chapel hastily built around it was King Alfonso II of Asturias, who declared St. James patron saint of Spain. Let's say it was a publicity stunt intended to lift the spirits of Spaniards who were chafing at the invasion of the Moors over a hundred years earlier. From there the legend became history. After the town had been laid waste by Al Mansour (Almanzor), in 1060 the cathedral was begun, to be consecrated in 1211. Additions, though, have been done to it over the years, including an eighteenth-century façade covering, and eventually preserving, the famed Pórtico da Gloria with the beautiful stone carvings done by the mysterious Maestro Mateo, a medieval artist of masonry. After Pope Alexander III declared Santiago a Holy City in the twelfth century, it became the third city for which Catholics would receive an indulgence for making a pilgrimage to, along with Jerusalem and Rome. Thus the Way was born. 

Now, the Apostle's day is our holiday and when most of us say we're proud to be Galician. The night before there are fireworks and a music and light display on the façades of the four buildings looking on the Praza do Obradoiro, including the cathedral. There is a festival like in any parish, but extended throughout the city. It's a night where nobody sleeps in Santiago. There are all manner of bands, orquestras, and musical groups playing in different areas of the city, from the gardens of the Alameda, to the Praza da Quintana, where the inquisitors who burned heretics five hundred years ago would have thundered against the insult of pop or folk music being played to the delight of its listeners. There are stalls of all kinds selling everything from books to food. Today there are gatherings of people, like every year, asking for independence. Others simply gather to parade through the city asking the central government not to forget us. There is a special Mass in the cathedral where a representative of the royal house comes as part of an offering made by the king Felipe IV in 1643. There are other, boring official acts. Most people sleep late and take to the beach if it's a good day or find a shady river bank for a picnic. Just like another Sunday in the lazy summer sun. I just wish we had a couple more history-worthy holidays like this one in the summertime.
 
My daughter hung the flag of Galicia in the window of our study today.
 

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