Glancing through my service leaflet yesterday, I noticed that today is the feast day of Willibrord of Utrecht. (What? There’s more than one St. Willibrord, so we need geographical distinctions in discussing them? Wow.)
St. Willibrord had older brothers named Willibald and Winebald with whom, according to my saint guide “he is, not surprisingly, confused.” The pope who made Willibrord a bishop could not pronounce his name and changed it to Clement. (Why didn’t it stick?) When the ruler of Holland and Denmark burned the early churches there, Willibrord responded by “desecrating sacred cows.”
At his shrine in Luxembourg, pilgrims and clergy perform “a sacred early-day conga-line dance” on his feast day, taking “three steps forward and two steps back.” The assembly does this around Willibrord’s tomb and then dances out of the church. In art he is depicted with a church in his hands and “because of his ability to multiply wine, a barrel of wine at his feet.”
I’ve slept at least twelve hours every night for the last three nights and might actually be kicking pneumonia. Meanwhile I have at least heard from my advisor (may he live forever) and it’s all good. Whew!