Nisi Dominus aedificaverit domum, in vanum laborant qui aedificaverunt eam - "Unless the Lord built the house, they worked in vain who built it" Ps. 127

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

St. Servulus, Tiny Tim, and the Nativity of Our Lord

 

One understandable drawback to the great liturgical feasts, such as the magnificent celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord at Christmas, is that lesser observances can be overlooked in all the excitement. For instance, one of today’s Saints, St. Servulus: he is worth remembering for his own sake, but his life also gives us some very fruitful matter for meditation on the penultimate day of Advent, as we prepare for Christmas itself. Let’s take a look at the story of St. Servulus, from the 1894 edition of Butler’s Lives of the Saints (an account based on a homily by St. Gregory the Great):

December 23.—ST. SERVULUS

SERVULUS was a beggar, and had been so afflicted with palsy from his infancy that he was never able to stand, sit upright, lift his hand to his mouth, or turn himself from one side to another. His mother and brother carried him into the porch of St. Clement's Church at Rome, where he lived on the alms of those that passed by. He used to entreat devout persons to read the Holy Scriptures to him, which he heard with such attention as to learn them by heart. His time he consecrated by assiduously singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving to God. After several years thus spent, his distemper having seized his vitals, he felt his end was drawing nigh. In his last moments he desired the poor and pilgrims, who had often shared in his charity, to sing sacred hymns and psalms for him. While he joined his voice with theirs, he on a sudden cried out: "Silence! do you not hear the sweet melody and praise which resound in the heavens?" Soon after he spoke these words he expired, and his soul was carried by angels into everlasting bliss, about the year 590.

St. Servulus listens to Holy Scripture
Servulus is certainly an admirable model of heroic virtue.  In spite of a lifetime of constant suffering, he was filled with gratitude to his Creator, and was completely devoted to Him, as signified by his name (Servulus means “little slave”). Moreover, despite his own absolute poverty, he was keenly aware of the need of others.
   But there’s more to the story of this saint and his feast day, coming as it does right before the celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord.  When I first read Servulus’ hagiography, in fact, a passage from Charles Dickens immediately came to mind.  I was thinking of the scene in A Christmas Carol, where the Ghost of Christmas Present is showing Scrooge the Cratchit family’s Christmas dinner.  Scrooge’s underpaid clerk, Bob Cratchit, has just returned from church with his sickly, crippled son Tiny Tim on Christmas day.  After Tim is whisked off by his siblings to see “the pudding singing in the copper”, Bob has the following exchange with his wife:“And how did little Tim behave?” asked Mrs. Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity, and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart’s content.
“As good as gold,” said Bob, “and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.”
Bob Cratchit & Tiny Tim

Tiny Tim sees himself as a living image of Christ’s mercy, reminding the faithful that the Nativity they’re celebrating is not just the birth of a baby, but the Incarnation of the God of Mercy as a Man. St. Servulus is also an icon, pointing out precisely who the Babe in the manger has come to be. He reminds us that in taking on human flesh, Jesus is taking to himself all that is human, excepting sin.  That very emphatically includes human suffering. It is often said that when God took on human form, he sanctified humanity.
Likewise, since Jesus has participated in our pain and sorrow, through his suffering we can unite ourselves to the living God. St. Servulus puts flesh on the words of St. Paul: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions (Colossians 1:24).”  Small wonder that the suffering saint could hear the voices of angels even before he left this world for the next.
    In two days we will be celebrating Christmas, the birth of our Savior, which is indeed, as the angels tell the shepherds of Bethlehem, “good news of a great joy” (Luke 2:10).  St. Servulus reminds us that He comes not so much to save us from the hardships of this world, but to save us through those hardships, so that we can be eternally happy with Him in the next.
    May your Christmas be a merry one . . . and God Bless Us, Every One.


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