Grains of Hope

     There's an advent tradition here in Provence that was entirely unknown to me until a few days ago when I picked up a leaflet in town about Saint Barbe and Le Blé de l'Espérance. Today, the 4th of December, is Saint Barbe's day, and many Provencial people will have bought wheat seeds from street vendors to plant in her honour.
     Sainte Barbe was around in Lebanon in the 3rd century, and according to various highly respected sources accessible via Google, was either locked in a tower to keep her away from troublesome leanings towards Christianity, or locked herself in there to get out of marrying some Prince. Either way, she managed to sneak a priest in, who gave her a good baptising, saved her soul, and really annoyed her dad.
     You know how it goes with these saints: once they've sworn their faith aloud, they get a get-out-of-death-free pass, though sometimes this isn't such a blessing. Every time they re-swear their faith, God likes them that little bit more, but their fellow humans not so much. Barbe survived her tower being set alight by her furious father and horrible biblical-style torture ordered by a misogynistic local prefect. Once yesterday's burns had miraculously healed for the umpteenth time, she was sentenced to beheading by her own father's hand. In this detail all the versions of the story are the same: when Barbe's head came off her shoulders, her father was struck by lightning.
     So why the wheat? The recurring theme of fire in her story has set her up as the saint of miners, artillery men and anyone else who works with explosives, and her story is celebrated by various parts of the army across the Commonwealth, as well as by various countries throughout the world on the 4th of December. There are feasts in her name, traditional dishes and cities named after her, and she's also leant her name to a class of hallucinogens known as Barbiturates.
     So with all this going on over the world, all we get is some wheat. For one thing, it's strange that in France this virginal martyr has become associated with a fertility celebration, and for another there is not a bolt of lightning in sight. A few seeds of wheat sown at the start of December are kept until Christmas Eve, when a red ribbon is tied around them and they adorn the table during a traditional supper, and are a sign of a prosperous year to come. Seeds are sold on the street with the profits going to charity, and no real connection to the story seems apparent.
     The tradition also stems (see what I did there?) in part from Greek and Roman fertility rites, which may or may not have anything to do with Christian tradition. In fact, Barbe isn't even present in the Roman Catholic Liturgical calendar, since her story is disputed as being mere legend.
     Just when you thought you had this Christmas Season thing figured out. Every country comes up with its own odd habits around this time of year, whether it be Boxing Day, the Twelve Pubs of Christmas or growing wheat in the name of a woman who refused to die by being burnt alive like a good persecuted Christian. France may be a big grown-up secular country, but traditions and laïcité are two different things, semble-t-il.