At some point during third grade I discovered the day of my patron saint, St. Timothy. On that day, January 26th, I secretly took a new white candle to mass and had Fr. Ramirez bless it after the service was over. That night at dinner I lit the candle and placed it front of me at dinner, feeling the oogie piety that only a 10-year-old can muster. My siblings thought the candle was nonsense, as well they should. My late brother Ted tried to take it repeatedly. I was flustered. What would St. Timothy think of all the crude monkeyshines?
Who was St. Timothy? An online saints forum states that he was a “a timid, affectionate young man, and a faithful follower of St. Paul.” Timothy was born in Lystra, in present day Turkey, the son of a Greek father and Jewish mother. She converted and raised him as a Christian. On St. Paul’s second trip to the area sometime around 50 AD, he found Timothy held in such high esteem by the locals that he asked Timothy to join him in spreading the Gospel. Timothy was consecrated a priest and eventually became the first Bishop of Ephesus, then a thriving city of the Roman Empire.
However, my namesake had a messy and tragic end. In the year 97 AD, the now 80-year-old Bishop Timothy tried to halt a procession honoring the goddess Diana by preaching the gospel. In response, the angry crowd beat him, dragged him through the streets, and stoned him to death. By the fourth century, Timothy was canonized as a saint. Today, because of his frail health, he is considered the patron saint of those with stomach disorders—a precursor to Fernet Branca, if you will.
I wonder what a conversation with my namesake would be like. I think lunch would definitely be in order given his need to put on a few pounds. We’d agree to meet at the In-N-Out Burger by the Oakland Airport. It’s a bustling place full of strange people so no one would even notice him.
I have a feeling he wouldn’t show up on time. I’d have to go looking for him and probably find him wandering around the parking lot in front of the Starbucks next door. Then I’d escort him back to In-N-Out. Once inside, I’d order two double-doubles animal-style with fries and large cokes. We’d settle into a booth with frosty drinks and in minutes our order would be ready. Our conversation would go something like this.
ST: Wow, this is really good. What is it?
T: Ground cow sandwiches and fried potatoes.
ST: What’s a ground cow? It’s delicious. We don’t have anything like this back in Ephesus.
T: Dude, you need to eat more. You look like a May pole.
ST: Don’t say that! May poles are the stuff of godless pagans!
T: You need to lighten up on the godless pagans. There’s room for everyone’s religious beliefs.
ST: But it’s my mission to spread the gospel. Paul appointed me!
T: Have you heard of Amway? No, strike that. Look, you’re a mess. You’re getting old and you don’t take care of yourself. You need to eat more. And for god’s sake, take a bath once in a while. You smell like a goat.
ST: Jesus loved goats.
T: That’s nice but I’m sure the stench bothered him too.
ST: Wow, this truly is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
T: That’s great but you may feel it again it in a couple of hours. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you. After all, you’re the patron saint of stomach and intestinal issues.
ST: I’m a saint? How did that happen?
T: I guess you were conferred after…
ST: After what?
T: We have to talk about your retirement.
ST: I never plan to retire. I will go to my grave preaching the gospel.
T: That’s what I’m afraid of. Look, in the future you need to be careful when and where you do this preaching thing. Steer clear of any crowds and that includes all Roman pageants and parades. On feast days everybody gets a head full of wine and hemp and they’re crazy as loons. The last thing you want to do is mess with them. If you want to preach, go do it in church.
ST: I’ll think about it. Anything else?
T: Just take a bath.
ST: Ok, but can we get some more of these ground cow sandwiches?
T: Sure, anything for you, big guy.
If you like these posts, you may also enjoy my wine blog.
Please visit timgaiser.com/category/blog
Very clever, but he probably would have persisted in his stinky rabble-rousing ways!