Church to remove Moor-slayer saint

My friend John Bell loves drama. He loves the drama of history and the bravado of heroism. So when he heard about the story of Santiago de Matamoros ("St. James the Moor Slayer") who came to the rescue of Spanish Christians beseiged by the Moors in the battle of Clavijo in AD 844, his heart was duly warmed. He read up on Santiago, St. James the Apostle, who, according to Spanish legend, preached the Gospel in Spain, returned to Judea where he was put to death by order of Herod, upon which his body was miraculously translated (transported) to Compostela, Spain, where it is buried. When he heard about the month-long pilgrimage, in which pilgrims walk by foot from the French border at the Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela in Spain's north west coast, he immediately wanted to sign up. He read about the famous battle with the Moors in which, at the last hour before certain defeat, St. James appeared on a white charger and came sweeping through the Moorish ranks, weilding a sword with which he cut the heads off Moors left and right, saving the day. As things turned out, John and I had the opportunity to travel to Spain, but not for a pilgrimage to the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, for which we didn't have time. Instead we visited Andalucian region of Spain, where we saw the remains of the Moorish architecture such as Alhambra in Grenada, as well as Sevillia, Cadiz, and the beautiful small coastal town of Rota where my son was stationed in the Navy.

But now it seems that the Cathedral authorities in the pilgrim city of Santiago de Compostela are caving in to public pressures. BBC announced (May 3, 2004):

A statue in a Spanish cathedral showing St James slicing the heads off Moorish invaders is to be removed to avoid causing offence to Muslims.

Of course, one can understand the authorities' concerns. The Baroque image of a sword-wielding St. James cutting the heads off Moors is not a very sensitive or evangelical image that many would find fitting to the teachings of Christ. That, at least, is the prevailing sentiment behind the public pressure. But there are doubtless many who would willingly point out the widespread ignorance underlying that public sentiment--ignorance of Spanish history, of the Islamic conquest of the Iberian peninsula, of the treatment of Catholic subjects under Muslim law, of the slaughter of thousands of Catholics during the Spanish Civil War, etc.

Admittedly, there are "kinder, gentler" devotions stemming also from the time of the war between the Catholics and Moors in Spanish history. One of these is the devotion to El Santo Nino de Atocha (The Holy Child of Atocha). The devotion to El Santo Nino de Atocha probably originated with Our Lady of Atocha, in Madrid, Spain, who is mentioned in the "Cantigas" of King Alphonse the Wise in the 13th century. During medieval times, when the Moors held large areas and battles between the Christians and Moors were commonplace, the Moors invaded the town of Atocha. Following a certain battle, the victorious Moors held a great many Christians captive, and prevented the adult villagers from visiting as well as bringing the prisoners food or water. Fearing for the lives of the prisoners, their families stormed heaven with prayers for relief. One day, a child appeared, dressed as a pilgrim of that period, carrying a basket of food and a gourd of water. The Moors allowed the child to bring food and water each day. The prisoners were fed, but the basket and gourd remained full. The child was not known to the Christians nor to the Moors, so the people concluded that the child Jesus, disguised as a pilgrim, had come to their rescue.

Such devotions are dying out, not only because public sentiment is growing against their politically "insensitive" aspects, but because the younger generations of Catholics are increasingly oblivious to their significance. Prevailing sentiment among Western Catholics does not bode well for the preservation of these sorts of devotions, because they are increasingly dismissed as worthless legends or superstitious and prejudiced ancestors. Yet loss of these devotions would be a loss, not merely of more fodder for anti-Muslim prejudices, as many may feel, but the loss of a living legacy of faith by which generations of Catholics kept hope alive through their darkest hour.

The world is changed. I feel it in the earth. I feel it in the water. I smell it in the air. Much that once was, no longer is. For none now live who remember it.