Eucherius was the King Midas of saints. Not because whatever he touched turned to gold, but because no matter how much he upset the war duke and prince of his area of what is now France (a man named Charles Martel), and how many times Charles re-assigned Eucherius to worse and worse and worse parishes, Eucherius prospered and the people loved him. The first falling out between Eucherius and Charles came because of Eucherius’s refusal to allow his church to be stripped of its possessions to support the duke’s war efforts. So the duke put him in a worse parish, which Eucherius grew into a great parish and again refused to pay for the war efforts. Then the duke put him in a still worse area to work and under the watchful eye of a particular governor. Well, Eucherius both grew that parish into a great church but also succeeded in utterly charming the governor and making of him an ally.

At last, that governor arranged (no doubt with the Charles’ blessing and relief) for a golden parachute for Eucherius–a retirement that allowed our saint to spend his last days in comfort, in prayer and contemplation, until he died at a relatively ripe old age. Of course, by retiring Eucherius, this meant that there were no longer any conflicts by which Eucherius could thwart Charles’ efforts to exact tribute from parishes for the war effort.

What is especially instructive about Eucherius is how one person can gum up the works for war. Think about it: Charles had to expend a great deal of effort on just one leader of just one church–including tying up the services of one of his governors and rearranging the lives of persons in multiple settings. This is no easy thing and prevented a well-oiled machine. What’s more, Charles did not dare make of the popular Eucherius a martyr, nor could he afford having Eucherius’s refusals spread to other parishes, or that would make things even worse. You can’t successfully wage war if every Eucherius in every village doesn’t simply cooperate unquestiongly.

Hannah Arendt, in her famous work Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (New York: The Viking Press, 1963), wrote about how the little nation of Bulgaria gummed up efforts to exterminate its Jews–by using the simple strategy of gross inefficiency! If they were told to gather Jews at the rail depot at 10:00, then they would summon them for 10:00 pm instead of 10:00 am…and when no trains came, they’d send them home. Or if they were told by the Nazis to gather Jews at the Sophia train station, they’d send them to the wrong one. Or they’d say “we thought you meant the 21st of March, not February” or would purposely misread the name of the village and so forth. The Nazis simply did not have the person-power to go into Bulgaria and its villages to ensure compliance while fighting wars on two fronts. The result? None (yes NONE) of Bulgaria’s Jews were sent to extermination centers. All because individuals garbled messages and chose not to be efficient…one person and one message at a time.

So to all those who wonder what one person can do–it’s amazing how refusal to cooperate with evil, in all its panoply of banal details, can make a difference.

I’m glad we have Eucherius to remember. And the Bulgarians.