Saint of the day:
Saint Gonçalo de Amarante
Patron Saint of Portugal. He is known for the promotion of love and marriage.
Every summer there is a festival involving men giving cakes to women.
The Story of St. Gonçalo de Amarante:
Born in Vizella (near Braga), Portugal.
Gonsalvo de Amarante was a true son of the Middle Ages, a man right out of the pages of the ‘Golden Legend.’ His whole life reads like a mural from the wall of a church – full of marvelous things and done up in brilliant colors.
In his boyhood Gonsalvo Pereira was gave wonderful indications of his holiness. While still small, he was consecrated to study for the Church, and received his training in the household of the archbishop of Braga. After his ordination he was given charge of a wealthy parish, an assignment that should have made him very happy. Gonsalvo was not as interested in choice parishes as some of his companions; he went to his favorite Madonna shrine and begged Our Lady to help him administer this office fairly.
There was no complaint with Gonsalvo’s governance of the parish of Saint Pelagius. He was penitential himself, but indulgent with everyone else. Revenues that he might have used for himself were used for the poor and the sick. The parish, in fact, was doing very well when he turned it over to his nephew, whom he had carefully trained as a priest, before making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Gonsalvo would have remained his entire life in the Holy Land, but after 14 years his archbishop commanded him to return to Portugal. Upon his arrival, he was horrified to see that his nephew had not been the good shepherd that he had promised to be, the money left for the poor had gone to purchase a fine stable of thoroughbred horses and a pack of fine hounds. The nephew had told everyone that his old uncle was dead, and he had been appointed pastor in his place by an unsuspecting archbishop. When the uncle appeared on the scene, ragged and old, but very much alive, the nephew was not happy to see him. Gonsalvo seems to have been surprised as well as pained.
The ungrateful nephew settled the matter by turning the dogs on his inconvenient uncle. They would have torn him to pieces, but the servants called them off and allowed the ragged pilgrim to escape. Gonsalvo decided then that he had withstood enough parish life, and went out into the hills to a place called Amarante. Here he found a cave and other necessities for an eremitical life and lived in peace for several years, spending his time building a little chapel to the Blessed Virgin. He preached to those who came to him, and soon there was a steady stream of pilgrims seeking out his retreat.
Happy as he was, Golsalvo felt that this was not his sole mission in life, and he prayed to Our Lady to help him to discern his real vocation. She appeared to him one night as he prayed and told him to enter the order that had the custom of beginning the office with “Ave Maria gratia plena.” She told him that this order was very dear to her and under her special protection. Gonsalvo set out to learn what order she meant, and eventually came to the convent of the Dominicans. Here was the end of the quest, and he asked for the habit.
Blessed Peter Gonzales was the prior, and he gave the habit to the new aspirant. After Gonsalvo had gone through his novitiate, he was sent back to Amarante, with a companion, to begin a regular house of the order. The people of the neighborhood quickly spread the news that the hermit was back. They flocked to hear him preach, and begged him to heal their sick.
One of the miracles of Blessed Gonsalvo concerns the building of a bridge across a swift river that barred many people from reaching the hermitage in wintertime. It was not a good place to build a bridge, but Gonsalvo set about it and followed the heavenly directions he had received. Once, during the building of the bridge, he went out collecting, and a man who wanted to brush him off painlessly sent him away with a note for his wife.
Gonsalvo took the note to the man’s wife, and she laughed when she read it. “Give him as much gold as will balance with the note I send you,” said the message. Gonsalvo told her he thought she ought to obey her husband, so she got out the scales and ut the paper in one balance. Then she put a tiny coin in the other balance, and another, and another – the paper still outweighed her gold – and she kept adding. There was a sizeable pile of coins before the balance with the paper in it swung upwards.
Gonsalvo died about 1259, after prophesying the day of his death and promising his friends that he would still be able to help them after death. Pilgrimages began soon, and a series of miracles indicated that something should be done about his beatification. Forty years after his death he appeared to several people who were apprehensively watching a flood on the river. The water had arisen to a dangerous level, just below the bridge, when they saw a tree floating towards the bridge, and Gonsalvo was balancing capably on its rolling balk. The friar carefully guided the tree under the bridge, preserving the bridge from damage, and then disappeared (Benedictines, Dorcy).
Saint Gundisalvus is generally shown as a Dominican between two Franciscans (SS Francis and Bernardino. The Christ-child, holding an orb, showers light upon him. He holds monastery in his hands. At times he may be shown giving food to beggars (Roeder). He is venerated in Braga, Portugal, and Amarante (Roeder).
Igreja de São Gonçalo
Praça da República (Largo de São Gonçalo) 3, 4600-038 Amarante, Portugal
The feast of Saint Gundisalvus of Amarante and it's cakes....
The cakes are known as “Bolos de São Gonçalo” (Saint Gonçalo cakes) and they’re the object of a long-standing fertility ritual. Forget the bunches of red roses: Amarante townsfolk prefer to exchange cakes shaped like ______ as a (none-too-subtle) token of their affections. The pastries can also be bought by or gifted to single women as a love-life good luck charm. In a way the cakes are an offering to the revered saint; an edible prayer petitioning unity, fertility, and fidelity.
Exactly how the tradition originated is a mystery. São Gonçalo himself was a Roman Catholic priest who lived and died in Amarante in the 13th century. Cast out of his parish by his progressive (and rather unfriendly) nephew, Gonçalo joined the Dominican Order and lived the rest of this life as a hermit. As such, there’s little known about him that could explain his link to romance and fertility.
It’s probable that the tradition stems from pre-Christian times. Indigenous practices were so deeply rooted during the time Christianity spread across Europe that it was far easier to absorb, rather than change or eradicate, them. Since this symbols were frequently used in indigenous fertility rituals, it’s easy to imagine the cakes as a direct descendant of those ancient rites which were, somewhere along the line, linked to São Gonçalo as a way of bringing them into Christendom.
The São Gonçalo festival is ever evolving. During the first weekend in June and on January 10, the town bursts to life with a calendar of activities that oscillates between the cheerfully modern and the deeply religious. DJs blast dance music into the streets. Intricate flower arrangements are laid at the feet of saints on religious floats. Carnival rides fling their technicolor arms into the night. Church bells call the townsfolk to a solemn Sunday mass service.
Even the cakes are evolving. There are those sold by street vendors that are anatomically correct shape and up to a meter in length. Then there are bakeries transforming the tradition into something softer, more subtle, more delectable. Some of their versions have cream fillings or come in miniature size. Capitalizing on the uniqueness of the tradition, they now produce the cakes outside the dates of the festival, too.
The cake tradition is, above all, resilient. It’s thought that during the Portuguese dictatorship, which began in 1926, the cakes were deemed obscene and against public morals. They were quickly outlawed. The people of Amarante, unwilling to give up a tradition so integral to their identity, continued to secretly make and exchange the sweets behind closed doors. When the dictatorship fell in the revolution of 1974, the cakes were once again free to stand proudly in street vendors’ carts. There they remain to this day.