Feast of St. Luke, Evangelist and Martyr

If you read nothing else for the Feast of St. Luke, go and read Padre Mickey's moving, scholarly post. He says, after many other fascinating things:

No one is really sure about Luke’s life after the martyrdom of St. Paul. Epiphanius says that after the martyrdom of St. Paul, St. Luke preached in Italy, Gaul, Dalmatia, and Macedon. Fortunatus and Metaphrastus say he passed into Egypt and preached in Thebais. Nicephorus says he died at Thebes in Boeotia around the year 84, after settling in Greece to write his gospel. St. Hippolytus says St. Luke was crucified at Elaea in Peloponnesus near Achaia. There is a Greek tradition that he was crucified on an olive tree. The ancient African Martyrology gives him the titles of Evangelist and Martyr, and St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Paulinus, and St. Gaudentius of Brescia all claim that Luke went to God by martyrdom. Bede, Ado, Usuard, and Baronius in the Martyrologies only say he suffered much for the faith, and died very old in Bithynia. Whether he died a quiet death at 84 or whether he won the martyr’s crown, he will always be known for his wonderful two-volume work. What would Christmas be like without Luke’s story of the shepherds and the angelic choir? His story of the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost has always been an inspiration. And what would Evening Prayer be like without the beauty of the Magnificat? Luke was instrumental in helping spread the word, helping spread the Good News, that forgiveness of sins and the coming of the Reign of God is available to all, and that is why we remember St. Luke today.

Luke is one of my favourite Bible writers: quite apart from his beautiful writings, his openness to people of whatever race and tradition and whichever sex, I love the fact that he was the one disciple who stuck it out with Paul till the very end. Luke would have been the kind of man you'd want for a friend, I think. Today we can remember to be grateful for his leaving us those two luminous, gentle books so that we know that he is with us still, one of "so great a cloud of witnesses" with whom we are constantly surrounded.