Saint Vincent of Saragossa

Vincent was a deacon, and to understand what that means you have to stop thinking of today’s deacons. He was the right-hand man of Bishop Valerius of Saragossa, his archdeacon, and he preached in his place. He was probably born in Huesca, at the foot of the Pyrenees, the son of the consul Eutychius and the matron Enola: a family that had given him a good education, and then entrusted him to the bishop to be formed. Then came Diocletian’s persecution, with the edicts ordering that Christian buildings and books be destroyed and that sacrifice be offered to the gods before any public act. Valerius and Vincent didn’t back down and kept bearing witness to their faith. Dacian, the prefect of the province, ordered their arrest. They were taken to Valencia, where the prefect held court. Valerius was sent into exile; Vincent was flogged, tortured and killed. It was January 22, 304. His cult took off immediately. Under Constantine, a basilica was built in his honor in Valencia, with his relics under the high altar. Then the Moors arrived, and the Christians of Valencia spirited the body away, carrying it to safety in Portugal, to the headland still called Cape Saint Vincent today. When the war was over, the remains were shipped to Lisbon, and a legend tells that during the voyage some ravens landed on the bow and stern of the ship, as if to stand guard over him. In 1173 he was solemnly brought into the cathedral. If your name is Vincent, Enzo or Vincenza, today is your name day: it’s a front-row name, one of those passed from grandfather to grandson without discussion. A boy sent off to study who ends up speaking in his bishop’s place, and then paying the price for it.