Children of Perseus, Tears of St. Laurence . . . . a Meteorlogical Work of Art

Photo Credit - earthsky.org

Perseus was a minor Greek god who was the son of Danae and Zeus, grandson of King Acrisius of Argo.  He first saw Andromeda when she was chained to a rock as a punishment for her mother, Cassiopia.  Perseus rescued Andromeda, they married, had seven sons and two daughters.  Their children are called Perseids, or coming from Persues.  That is where the Perseid meteors get their name, as they appear to be coming out of the Persues constellation, right next to the Andromeda constellation.

I mentioned that Perseus' maternal grandfather was King Acrisius of Argo because this reminds me of another person from a similar sounding land, Aragon, who also has connections  to the Perseid meteor shower.

In about 225 C.E. a lad named Laurence was born in Spain, in the region of Aragon.  As a young man, he encountered a Greek man, the future Pope Sixtus II. The men became great friends and decided to travel to Rome to further their studies.  Sixtus eventually became pope, ordained Laurence, and appointed him one of the first seven deacons of the Christian church.

Laurence, even though he was very young, was trusted with the church treasury and distributing alms to the poor.  In August 258, Roman Emperor Valerian issued an order that all Christians should be denounced and killed, their possessions and land confiscated and turned over to the imperial treasury. Of course, this meant that all religious officials, pope and deacons, should be executed and the church's treasury delivered to the emperor.

After killing all the others, Laurence was apprehended, and he was ordered to give over the entirety of the treasury.  He convinced the soldiers that he needed three days to gather everything for delivery. During these days, he distributed the entire church wealth to paupers, disabled, widows, children, and anyone who was in need. He appeared before the emperor and his soldiers three days later, an entourage of those he'd helped following him.

"These are the riches of the church," he said and he pointed to the people around him.  "It is all the church has ever held that is of value."  Of course, soon after the meeting, there is violence that includes roasting on a gridiron until dead, martyrdom, and eventual sainthood for St. Laurence. Today, San Lorenzo fuori le Mura, the church that was built over his tomb, still stands outside the Vatican walls.

By the forth century, many Christians knew St. Laurence's story, leading to a strong and widespread devotion to him, especially by the poor and afflicted.  When the Perseids meteor shower would appear on or near his feast day of August 10, the descending sparks became known as "The Tears of St. Laurence."

As I watched the scant golden threads of the meteors in the early morning hours today, I thought of these two pieces of lore.  I appreciate that modern astronomy has allowed the myths and metaphors to name this meteorological event - a marriage of art and science.

I long to find my own mix of art, science, and the ordinary experiences of every day that will allow me to move through life with the creativity and grandeur of Greek mythology and the caring and hubris of a champion such as St. Laurence.

Now - I'm off for a nap.  Not sure if I'm catching up on last night's short sleep or planning ahead to get up mid-sleep tonight to try and sew together more stories and memories from the golden Perseid threads, er tears . . . . .

St Laurence and his gridiron.