Sicily sacred and profane

Sicily Sacred and profane
Sicily, a land in which the scorching July sun has found a home, forging the nature of people. Land of Saints, of Myths, of legends. Island in which the boundary between sacred and profane is faint, and the pagan interferences are still visible.
Sicilian people and Saints, what a strange relationship they have. Here Saints are ‘domestic’, people speak frankly with them: “Fine Saint Paul, says the believer when he makes his Promise- If you grant me that certain grace, I’ll carry your statue on my bare shoulder!”. In this way, as in an ordinary agreement, the believer feels the duty to fulfil his promise only when the grace he asked for has been fulfilled [the prayer he made has been answered], as if he were thinking that “to trust is good, but not to trust is better” even when dealing with Saints! The Sicilian man makes the saint live an almost wordly life [makes the saint live somehow a life on earth], he knows that, i.e., even a Saint has his needs, and a budget to deal with: fix the church’s floor, a new roof, and fireworks for the Feast. A behaviour that Sicilians have in common with the Greeks, who choose to move to Sicily centuries ago. Even greek gods where often guilty of the same human sins.
Travelling in the inland villages and in the cities of the island, it’s easy to come across the local religious feasts, especially in summer -a time when each village shows its best clothes to pay homage to its Patron Saint. During these occasions, women, children and men flock to the church to hail the Saint.
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