Thoughts on the Feast of St. Agatha

St. Agatha is one of the many early martyrs of the Church, dying in Sicily in the persecutions of one or another vindictive Roman emperor. We know next to nothing about her beyond this. However, we do know that she has a special patronage for bell makers and against sudden fires and breast cancer, among other things.

Her “story” sounds like it was ripped strait from the Grimm Brothers and written in Latin: a secret Christian during a persecution who was the victim of a corrupt local governor. Said governor, like all the best B movie villains, gave up a fully developed character long ago for better access to one or more vices. In this case, the governor (who has a name, but it’s not that important) consists entirely of lust. Poor Agatha was variously imprisoned in a brothel, the governor’s private chamber, and actual dungeons, and at one point even lost her breasts as they were mutilated off as one more psychological, physical, and sexual abuse at the command of the lecherous governor. Despite all that, she would neither move from Christ nor give herself over to Governor Lusty. She gained everlasting life sometime around 250 A.D.

There are two questions I have to ask whenever I read a story about someone like Agatha. The first one is “Who was the real Agatha?” I mean the truth is I, like most people of our era, can’t get enough of the whole notion of “based on a true story.” I love reading nonfiction stories about marines and spies and other real people who lived and died on this world. I’m also genuinely shocked whenever I read a headline suggesting that there are new historical findings that shed light on some figure from the past. In one sense it is a good and noble thing to seek the truth and reject anything that rings of falseness. In my ministry I tutor kids and I want an accurate idea of what that kid needs to improve in his or her class. It does me no good to hear “He’s a good kid,” that’s not facts to work with, that’s a story.

And yet, as Christians one of our core beliefs is the rejection of knowing the “whole story” until God chooses to reveal it to us. So, my second question is, “Does it matter?” Maybe Agatha was plain-looking, rounded up with the whole of her nameless community and executed. Maybe she almost gave up and renounced only to receive strength and support from an unknown source. Maybe she really was a beautiful maiden that a lusty governor could not defile. Does it matter?

More and more I realize that answering God’s call means finding your identity in God. I may have never thought of myself as a teacher before this year, but that’s where God seems to be calling me now. Do I think this plan makes sense? I’m not sure yet. I don’t think Agatha signed on specifically to pray to God on behalf of bell-makers, Malta, and those afflicted by fire and breast cancer. But that’s how she serves God and the Church. May it please God that we may follow her example.