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IN
DEFENSE OF EXPEDIENCY
St. Expedite, aka Sanctus Expeditus, has apparently never made it into the official Roman Catholic Martyrology. Yet he has an international following, including pop-star status in Brazil. There are Expedite shrines in far-flung places, from an island in the Indian Ocean to Fargo, N.D., to New Orleans – which is where I met up with him. My recent trip to New Orleans was one of those occasions when, from the get-go, everything should have gone wrong. I misjudged the driving time to the airport and couldn’t find the car lot where I’d reserved a parking space. My travel mate, who had every right to criticize, maintained a calm silence. We should have missed the plane, but TSA was uncharacteristically speedy and we boarded with seconds to spare. Our reduced-rate hotel, which I reserved on-line, might have been a disaster. Turned out it was an elegant older building, scrupulously maintained, comfortable and quiet. Mystified, I wondered why things were going so right when my companion produced the answer. She’d read in her guidebook about the statue of St. Expedite, located in a church not far from our hotel. Expedite’s pedigree is dubious, with an urban legend quality. He’s supposedly a martyr, but no one knows for certain. One story claims that in Turkey, in the third century, Expedite decided to become a Christian. The devil, in the shape of a crow, urged him to wait a day. No time like the present, Expedite countered. He is usually depicted holding a cross inscribed with “hodie” – Latin for today. His foot is planted firmly on the crow, who is chirping, “cras,” meaning tomorrow. Thus, Expedite is the saint to summon when you need protection against procrastination or an immediate solution. His resurgence in popularity is attributed in part to a growing number of computer geeks seeking his patronage. Another Expedite story – this one’s in the urban legend column – has it that a large carton with a saintly statue was delivered to a convent in France (in one version) or the church in New Orleans (in the other version). No one knew what was inside but the carton was marked with the instruction to “Expedite” delivery, ergo … All I knew for certain was that our visit to New Orleans went so well, I wanted to stop by the church and pay my respect. The Church of the Annunciation also claims to be the International Shrine of St. Jude (the patron saint of hopeless causes). Jude is depicted with a larger-than-life statue, but we circled the church twice without spotting Expedite. We finally asked at the gift shop and were directed to a tiny niche at the rear of the nave. The rosy-cheeked Expedite – a mere lad, really – appears not to mind that he’s behind the congregation. I’ve got your back, he seems to say. I could hardly argue with that. Things have been going remarkably well as I prepare to move to Holden Village in two weeks. I suspect Expedite followed me home.
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