Singing to God in Our Hearts: St. Cecilia in Our Lives

Beauty is truth, truth beauty. — John Keats

St. Cecilia Feast Day: November 22

When asked about the steadfast nature of her faith, my best friend’s mother told me that she need only point to flowers as proof of God’s love for us: Only a perfect love could create something of such perfect beauty for us to sing aloud about. Her words remind me that even when we are buried in the day-to-day minutiae of our lives, our yearning for beauty and our yearning for meaning are no less intertwined than they were 200 years ago–when John Keats ended his poem, “Ode on a Grecian Urn,” equating beauty with truth. They are also no less intertwined than they were in the 2nd or 3rd century, when St. Cecilia led a life of profound devotion to God, cementing herself as a martyr synonymous with not only her artistic patronage, but arguably with beauty itself in all its incarnations.

As His fair praise we sing!: The Life of St. Cecilia

The daughter of noble Romans during the 2nd or 3rd century, a time of intense persecution for Christians, St. Cecilia was an early Christian martyr. Evidence of her veneration dates back to about 500 AD. While some details of her life may be debated, she is beloved by both Catholic and non-Catholic Christians for her unwavering devotion to Christ in the midst of great difficulty and familial pressure, alongside her relationship to music–the art form that is known most naturally to us all.

Cecilia vowed her virginity at a young age, but was forced by her parents to marry a pagan nobleman named Valerian. Despite complying with the wedding, Cecilia sat alone during the ceremony, singing heavenly music in her heart to God. On their wedding night, Cecilia told Valerian that a guardian angel of her virginity was watching over her, and that Valerian would only be able to see the angel if he were baptized in the faith. Upon being baptized by Pope Urban I, Valerian witnessed the angel standing beside Cecilia, crowning her in roses and lilies. 

Respecting Cecilia, Valerian himself was crowned as well, and he further converted his brother, Tiburtius. The brothers committed themselves to both evangelizing others and burying those who were martyred for their Christian beliefs. The brothers were eventually martyred, with Cecilia’s own execution occurring later on. First, she was locked in the steam baths to suffocate. Once the bath house was opened, Cecilia was not only found alive, but, once again, singing to God. She was then struck three times by a sword on the neck and miraculously lived for three days. Upon her exhumation in 1599, she was declared incorrupt–the first of all saints to be declared such.

The musical enactment of Cecilia’s commitment to her relationship with and faith in God has led to her status as the patroness of music, singers, poetry, and instrument makers. By contemplating the meaning of her name–“blind,” “hidden”–we can consider her the conduit by which the gift of spiritual sight was bestowed upon her husband and brother-in-law upon witnessing her guardian angel. According to Prosper Gueranger’s account of St. Cecilia’s life, Valerian puts it to Tiburtius like this when encouraging him to convert: 

Thou wilt then know Him whose blood is crimson as roses, whose flesh is white as lilies. Cecilia and I wear crowns which thy eyes cannot yet behold. The flowers of which they are composed, are brilliant as purple, and spotless as snow.

Upon baptism, Tiburtius will be able to behold this beautiful crowning. Upon baptism, Tiburtius will know Him. The joint nature of this experience references both Christ’s truth and Christ’s beauty–there is no divorce between the two. 

What do we see when we sing?

I am no musician, but music profoundly influences my day-to-day life, particularly during Mass. A full choir, a larger-than-usual congregation, or the outspoken voice of just one neighbor in the pew resounding in my ears, all contribute to my experience of the Mass. 

My colleagues Annette and Marge–Paloma & Fig’s in-house Happiness Support Specialist and Copywriter, respectively–are both accomplished musicians. Asked to contemplate her own relationship to St. Cecilia, Marge says that the martyr’s experience of “singing to God in her heart resonates deeply,” reminding her to always worship “with her whole being. As St. Augustine says, ‘To sing is to pray twice.’” Annette chose Cecilia as her Patron Saint during her Confirmation at 15 years old, “cementing a special place for the saint in her heart.” Despite moving away from a career in music, Annette remains passionate about the art form, and looks to St. Cecilia for guidance and inspiration to this day.

For many of us, the presence of others, including the saints, begets our own presence during worship, no matter our mood or external anxieties. Because presence can be thought of as attention, I am reminded of philosopher Simone Weil’s idea of attention as being akin to prayer. Weil writes that:

If we turn our mind toward the good, it is impossible that little by little, the whole soul will not be attracted thereto in spite of itself. 

Everyday beauty commands our attention–sometimes, the less we know about why our hearts are being opened, the more we actually feel our hearts being opened. An attention to beauty is a way to gain knowledge via what we physically experience when encountering that which is melodious and pleasant to our senses. Different sounds, such as those we experience when we and those around us sing at Mass, cause different physiological responses in our body, impacting our breathing and heart rates. I like to think that the more we each participate in the communal creation of these sounds, the more our physiological states complement and persuade one another. Each individual’s creative force, no matter how studied or honed, is a contribution. One never knows the effect of their presence on those near to them.

Dear Saint Cecilia–

Inspire musicians to gladden the hearts of people by filling the air with God’s gift of music and reminding them of the divine Musician who created all beauty.

Upon her martyrdom, Cecilia bequeathed her wealth to the poor and gave her house to be used as a place of worship. We can consider St. Cecilia’s life as a prime example of the first of the Beatitudes, which commences the blueprint of living a faithful life. Rather than shrinking ourselves in order to accomplish the poor-in-spirit attitude, we are called to use our gifts, talents, and means to both glorify and thank God. While we may not be born into wealth like St. Cecilia or ever acquire great wealth ourselves, we can take on her attitude of being poor in spirit for what it truly means–giving what we reasonably can of our Godly gifts to those who are in need in our daily lives. The beauty we hold within us is as God-given as that which we witness externally in those around us.

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Writer and editor Franci Revel Eckensberger holds a Master of Fine Arts in Poetry from Cornell University. With years of experience as a copyeditor for academics, fellow writers, and various small businesses, she takes pride in maintaining clarity, consistency, and beauty in each client’s voice. 

Franci finds grace and insight in the Catholic Church’s rich relationship to language and invites that relationship to influence both her literary and editorial work. Saint Cecilia and Catherine of Siena continue to play a vital role in her journey to the faith as an artist. She lives in coastal Delaware with her husband.