December 24th The last day of Celtic Advent
I wasn't sure back 40 days ago if I would be able to sustain 40 days of blogging about Celtic saints. It has been a big learning experience for me, and did create a strong sense of Advent devotion and discipline, which was my goal.
For December 24th I could find one ultra obscure Scottish saint, Caran or Caranus, of whom all we have is the he was a bishop in Eastern Scotland, and that's it. Not much to write about with that. I toyed with the idea of writing about how many Celtic saints seem to listed on the calendars, and how that lead us to the ability of all of us to participate as saints. But, although the idea is true, it just didn't hit jive with where I wanted to go. Then I thought about time travel...(OK, this is an obscure lead-off, but it will become clear after a while). I am a sucker for a good time travel story or movie, or a story with two time separate time lines that affect each other across the centuries (like A.S. Byatt's Possession.) What is interesting is that the Celts, way before H. G. Wells, had a sense that Saints sometimes would have a mystical ability to transcend time and space to preform needed functions. This was the case with St. Brigid in particular.
Brigid's feast day is February 1st--not December 24th, yet she has a strong connection to Christmas! She is, next to Patrick, probably the most written about of the Irish Saints. I won't go into great detail since what I want to focus on how she broke through our usual temporal laws, but will instead do a brief synopsis. Brigid came from a royal family in Southwest Ireland. At an early age she had a strong sense of religious purpose--she had a tendency to upset her father by giving away his possessions to the poor and needy. She joined religious orders and founded the double abbey of Kildare, where both men and women were housed. She has numerous miracles attached to her history, and was sought after as a spiritual advisor by many. She is often referred to as "Bride" and the naming of young Irish women as Brigid has persisted for centuries. When I was doing research on the "famine ships" that brought my great-great grandfather over from Galway, it seemed that most of the Bermingham women were named either Mary, Catherine or Brigid.
Brigid has a major association with the Nativity in the Irish stories. She at some point was mystically transported to 1st Century Bethlehem, where she found herself working as a serving maid in an inn. She served bannock bread and water to two strangers: a pregnant woman and her husband who were looking for a place for the night. After they had eaten she found that the bread loaf was miraculously whole and the water jug full. Going out of the inn, she saw a golden light coming from the stable. She went into the stable, just in time to help Mary as a mid-wife in the final stages of labor. She placed the newborn Christ into his Mother's arms, placing three drops of water on his forehead as a symbol of his participation in the Trinity. Henceforth she was known as the Nurse or Mid-wife of Mary.
I find this story, whether historical or not, strangely comforting. It gives me a whole new sense of the "communion of saints," and the ability of the spirit of the saints to be present with us now. After all if Brigid could be there for Mary in her need during labor, why could they not be here for us now when we need them? It seems to also be a fitting conclusion for stories about the Celtic saints, reaffirming the unique characteristics if Celtic spirituality, where we each, like Brigid, use our gifts in humble service to others--and in the process, we become servants of God. So I will end with one of the wonderful prayers of the Carmina Gadaelica:
"I am under the shielding of good Brigit each day;
I am under the shielding of good Brigit each night.
I am under the keeping of the Nurse of Mary,
Each early and late,
Every dark, every light.
Brigit is my companion-woman,
Brigit is the maker of song,
Brigit is my helping-woman,
My choicest of women,
My woman of guidance."
Thank you Lord, for all the Celtic Saints. Let the spirit of Brigit be with me this Christmas Eve, as she was with Your mother on that first eve of your birth. Amen.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Sunday, December 22, 2013
St Mazota--stepping into the aftermath of divisiveness
December 23rd St. Mazota of Abernethy
2 days left in Celtic Advent
When I first found the miniscule listing about the life of St. Mazota I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with it. Most of the sites that mention Mazota are one or two-liners. She lived in the 8th century, was either Scots or Scots-Irish and went, along with several other maidens (usually 9 or 18) to live among the Picts and minister to them.
But then, thanks to google's digitalized on-line books I found a book about the "Ancient Church and Parish of Abernethy," written by Dugald Butler in 1897, and it all began to make sense. This requires me, however, to review what I learned about Scottish ecclesiastical history as it relates to Abernethy, which is in Central Scotland. The church in the area traces it's roots to St Ninian, the first missionary to the Picts in the 4th and 5th centuries. There is some tie-in also with the Irish monastery of Kildare, the focal point of St. Brigid's life, with some of her sisters from Kildare apparently having gone on mission to Abernethy. But it was with Columba's founding of the Abbey in Iona (see my post yesterday related to this) that Christianity really began to take off in the area.
Columba sent multiple missionaries to the Picts, converting large segments of the population and building or re-establishing churches. The church at Abernethy came under a Columban influence, and was considered one of the pre-eminent churchs in what was later to become Scotland. This pre-eminence of Abernethy and the influcence of the monks from Iona was not to continue however.
If you have been following this blog, think back (or look back) to Hilda of Whitby on November 17th. Hilda was the abbess who hosted the great synod of Whitby to decide which set of traditions of the church, either that of the Celtic church or that of Rome, was to prevail in the British Isles. The Romans won out.
But it wasn't an over night switch and there was a lot of turmoil in different areas of the Celtic world about this. The Picts held their own Synod late in the 690's to decide if they were going to tow the Roman line as outlined at Whitby. They also, probably for political reasons, voted to go with the Roman rite.
But the monastery at Columba not only held to its Celtic ways but actively tried to persuade many other areas to resist the Roman rites and hierarchy. This led, around 717AD, to the decision of the King of the Northern Picts to expell the Columban monks from his area, including those in Abernethy. The church there dwindled and the high position of the church there passed to Scone and St. Andrew's where it remains. So the climate in the mid 700's around Abernethy was one of fall out from a major church fight. I suspect much of the local populace felt confused or lost spiritually. It was into this situation that we find the nine virgin daughters of St. Donevald, a Scot-Irish hermit whose was living amongst the Picts around Ogilvey.
The most mentioned of the daughters was Mazota. They petitioned the king to set up a hermitage for themselves in the area, where they performed miracles, ministered to the local populace and lived a life of prayer and devotion. (They even, per one source, miraculously drove out group of obnoxious, noisy geese that were disturbing the residents--I know several golfers in Northern Colorado who probably would like Mazota's help when confronted with a flock of Canadians on the fairway.)
This was apparently exactly what this spiritually distraught population of Picts needed. Pilgrimages to the hermitage of the nine virgins increased, and continued to the well of St Mazota even after the deaths of the sisters. Their quiet devotion and sincerity met a need to re-ignite the church in the area.
We seem to be living in the America of 2013-2014 in a time of incredible factionalism. Political ideologies, religious beliefs, opinions about health care, guns laws and methods of oil exploration (fracking in our geographic area) continue to create tensions and arguments. Sometimes there seems to be no middle ground...in the spiritual realm this is particulary frustrating for me as my own church tradition, the Church of England, used to tout itself as the Middle way, the Via Media. But maybe I let myself get carried about by the arguing and posturing. Maybe what is important is the way of Mazota, which seems not disimilar now that I think about it, to the way of Mother Teresa of Calcutta: don't get to concerned with ideologies, just serve the people who need help and be Christ to them.
I think for the rest of Advent and the following 12 days of Christmas, I will turn off CNN and the McLaughlin report. (I still might sneak a look at John Stewart once and a while). Instead I will continue to focus on my own mission...am I walking my talk, and being the kind of Christian that a Celtic saint like Mazota would have approved of.
Lord, I know there will always be strife and human arguments, including in the church. Guide me, in the season of peace, to be centered, like Mazota and her sisters, in Your Peace, and trust that You are guiding us in the way that will most serve Your desires. Amen.
2 days left in Celtic Advent
When I first found the miniscule listing about the life of St. Mazota I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with it. Most of the sites that mention Mazota are one or two-liners. She lived in the 8th century, was either Scots or Scots-Irish and went, along with several other maidens (usually 9 or 18) to live among the Picts and minister to them.
But then, thanks to google's digitalized on-line books I found a book about the "Ancient Church and Parish of Abernethy," written by Dugald Butler in 1897, and it all began to make sense. This requires me, however, to review what I learned about Scottish ecclesiastical history as it relates to Abernethy, which is in Central Scotland. The church in the area traces it's roots to St Ninian, the first missionary to the Picts in the 4th and 5th centuries. There is some tie-in also with the Irish monastery of Kildare, the focal point of St. Brigid's life, with some of her sisters from Kildare apparently having gone on mission to Abernethy. But it was with Columba's founding of the Abbey in Iona (see my post yesterday related to this) that Christianity really began to take off in the area.
Columba sent multiple missionaries to the Picts, converting large segments of the population and building or re-establishing churches. The church at Abernethy came under a Columban influence, and was considered one of the pre-eminent churchs in what was later to become Scotland. This pre-eminence of Abernethy and the influcence of the monks from Iona was not to continue however.
If you have been following this blog, think back (or look back) to Hilda of Whitby on November 17th. Hilda was the abbess who hosted the great synod of Whitby to decide which set of traditions of the church, either that of the Celtic church or that of Rome, was to prevail in the British Isles. The Romans won out.
But it wasn't an over night switch and there was a lot of turmoil in different areas of the Celtic world about this. The Picts held their own Synod late in the 690's to decide if they were going to tow the Roman line as outlined at Whitby. They also, probably for political reasons, voted to go with the Roman rite.
But the monastery at Columba not only held to its Celtic ways but actively tried to persuade many other areas to resist the Roman rites and hierarchy. This led, around 717AD, to the decision of the King of the Northern Picts to expell the Columban monks from his area, including those in Abernethy. The church there dwindled and the high position of the church there passed to Scone and St. Andrew's where it remains. So the climate in the mid 700's around Abernethy was one of fall out from a major church fight. I suspect much of the local populace felt confused or lost spiritually. It was into this situation that we find the nine virgin daughters of St. Donevald, a Scot-Irish hermit whose was living amongst the Picts around Ogilvey.
The most mentioned of the daughters was Mazota. They petitioned the king to set up a hermitage for themselves in the area, where they performed miracles, ministered to the local populace and lived a life of prayer and devotion. (They even, per one source, miraculously drove out group of obnoxious, noisy geese that were disturbing the residents--I know several golfers in Northern Colorado who probably would like Mazota's help when confronted with a flock of Canadians on the fairway.)
This was apparently exactly what this spiritually distraught population of Picts needed. Pilgrimages to the hermitage of the nine virgins increased, and continued to the well of St Mazota even after the deaths of the sisters. Their quiet devotion and sincerity met a need to re-ignite the church in the area.
We seem to be living in the America of 2013-2014 in a time of incredible factionalism. Political ideologies, religious beliefs, opinions about health care, guns laws and methods of oil exploration (fracking in our geographic area) continue to create tensions and arguments. Sometimes there seems to be no middle ground...in the spiritual realm this is particulary frustrating for me as my own church tradition, the Church of England, used to tout itself as the Middle way, the Via Media. But maybe I let myself get carried about by the arguing and posturing. Maybe what is important is the way of Mazota, which seems not disimilar now that I think about it, to the way of Mother Teresa of Calcutta: don't get to concerned with ideologies, just serve the people who need help and be Christ to them.
I think for the rest of Advent and the following 12 days of Christmas, I will turn off CNN and the McLaughlin report. (I still might sneak a look at John Stewart once and a while). Instead I will continue to focus on my own mission...am I walking my talk, and being the kind of Christian that a Celtic saint like Mazota would have approved of.
Lord, I know there will always be strife and human arguments, including in the church. Guide me, in the season of peace, to be centered, like Mazota and her sisters, in Your Peace, and trust that You are guiding us in the way that will most serve Your desires. Amen.
Iona: from St. Ernan to George McLeod
December 22nd 3 days left in Advent
Saint Ernan of Hinba
There are two "Saint Ernans" listed under the Celtic and Old English Saints for today, both related to St. Columba. The older of the two, Saint Ernan of Hinba was Columba's uncle. I sometime make an assumption the someone reading this will know who Columba was. That may be an erroneous assumption, so here is a quick review on Columba!
Columba, or Columcille, who died in 597, was from a royal family in Ireland and was inspired to become a monastic. He created quite a stir by copying an illuminated manuscript and taking it from its home monastery without permission, which caused a "war" between two monastic groups and resulted in a not insignificant loss of life. Columba, in remorse, left Ireland never to return, along with 12 disciples to Northwest Scotland where he founded the great Abbey of Iona. Iona became one of the main centers of the Celtic Christian movement at this time, and it was from here that St. Aidan was sent as a missionary to Lindisfarne, evangelizing most of Northern England.
Columba's uncle was one of the twelve disciple who accompanied him on his "green martyrdom." After a time at Iona, he was asked by Columba to set up a church at the nearby island of Hinba, identified by some as the modern island of Canna. It is reported by Columba's biographer, Adamnan, that many of the prominent leaders of the Celtic church at the time, such as Comgall and Brendan, came at times to worship at Ernan's church.
As a much older man, Ernan made one last journey from Hinba to the main Abbey at Iona to see Columba, but was overcome by weakness and died a mere 24 steps from where Columba was staying, fulfilling a prophecy by Columba that he would not see his uncle in the flesh again. He was buried at the spot and a stone cross was raised at that location.
This story about the beginnings of the Abbey of Iona made me start to think about a more contemporary person, George McLeod, who died also at a quite advanced age in 1991. McLeod served in World War I and was affected forever after by the horror and devastation of the war. Living a life that revolved around alcohol and cigarettes after the war, he had a conversion experience in a Scottish railway station and became eventually a Presbyterian minister. He was drawn to serve the poor and destitute and during the depression was involved in an inner city ministry in Glasgow.
In 1938, McLeod had a revelation and felt called to move to Island of Iona and to rebuild the abandoned monastery of Columba at Iona. He and a few colleagues lived in huts, not unlike the beehive huts of the early Celts, until more permanent places could be erected. Out of his effort the Iona Community was created, an ecumenical neomonastic group with three centers around Iona, including one at the Canna, the probable site of Ernan's church at Hinba. The Community was one of the main revival movements for Celtic Christianity and focuses its mission and writings on caring for creation, peace and social ministry. It continues McLeod's originial mission in inner city Glasgow as well.
McLeod's biography is included in one of the books in my library: Prayers with Celtic Saints, Prophets, Marytrs and Poets by June Skinner Sawyers. She has a small reflection after each biography. Here is was she has to say about MacLeod: "When everyone else thought he had lost his senses, George MacLeod soldiered on, knowing he was doing the right thing. How does the opinion of your peers affect your decision making process? Once you make a decision, do you stick with it?"
I really resonated with this short reflection. (Perhaps it was the influence in the 1950's of watching Fess Parker as Davy Crockett, whose famous phrase was "Be sure you're right, then go ahead.") Ernan, Columba and McLeod all had to make decision about life changing directions. Without them we would likely had neither the flourishing of the early Christian Celts, nor the magnitude the modern revival of interest in their teachings.
Lord, thank You for the renewal and rediscovery of the values and teachings of the early Celtic Christians like Columba and his uncle, St. Ernan. Thank You for the vision and energy of people like George McLeod who reallized the need to bring back the Celtic way into our mainstream and to combine it with ministry to the underserved. Help me with my life decisions as You did with them, and allow me listen to You as they did. Amen.
Saint Ernan of Hinba
There are two "Saint Ernans" listed under the Celtic and Old English Saints for today, both related to St. Columba. The older of the two, Saint Ernan of Hinba was Columba's uncle. I sometime make an assumption the someone reading this will know who Columba was. That may be an erroneous assumption, so here is a quick review on Columba!
Columba, or Columcille, who died in 597, was from a royal family in Ireland and was inspired to become a monastic. He created quite a stir by copying an illuminated manuscript and taking it from its home monastery without permission, which caused a "war" between two monastic groups and resulted in a not insignificant loss of life. Columba, in remorse, left Ireland never to return, along with 12 disciples to Northwest Scotland where he founded the great Abbey of Iona. Iona became one of the main centers of the Celtic Christian movement at this time, and it was from here that St. Aidan was sent as a missionary to Lindisfarne, evangelizing most of Northern England.
Columba's uncle was one of the twelve disciple who accompanied him on his "green martyrdom." After a time at Iona, he was asked by Columba to set up a church at the nearby island of Hinba, identified by some as the modern island of Canna. It is reported by Columba's biographer, Adamnan, that many of the prominent leaders of the Celtic church at the time, such as Comgall and Brendan, came at times to worship at Ernan's church.
As a much older man, Ernan made one last journey from Hinba to the main Abbey at Iona to see Columba, but was overcome by weakness and died a mere 24 steps from where Columba was staying, fulfilling a prophecy by Columba that he would not see his uncle in the flesh again. He was buried at the spot and a stone cross was raised at that location.
This story about the beginnings of the Abbey of Iona made me start to think about a more contemporary person, George McLeod, who died also at a quite advanced age in 1991. McLeod served in World War I and was affected forever after by the horror and devastation of the war. Living a life that revolved around alcohol and cigarettes after the war, he had a conversion experience in a Scottish railway station and became eventually a Presbyterian minister. He was drawn to serve the poor and destitute and during the depression was involved in an inner city ministry in Glasgow.
In 1938, McLeod had a revelation and felt called to move to Island of Iona and to rebuild the abandoned monastery of Columba at Iona. He and a few colleagues lived in huts, not unlike the beehive huts of the early Celts, until more permanent places could be erected. Out of his effort the Iona Community was created, an ecumenical neomonastic group with three centers around Iona, including one at the Canna, the probable site of Ernan's church at Hinba. The Community was one of the main revival movements for Celtic Christianity and focuses its mission and writings on caring for creation, peace and social ministry. It continues McLeod's originial mission in inner city Glasgow as well.
McLeod's biography is included in one of the books in my library: Prayers with Celtic Saints, Prophets, Marytrs and Poets by June Skinner Sawyers. She has a small reflection after each biography. Here is was she has to say about MacLeod: "When everyone else thought he had lost his senses, George MacLeod soldiered on, knowing he was doing the right thing. How does the opinion of your peers affect your decision making process? Once you make a decision, do you stick with it?"
I really resonated with this short reflection. (Perhaps it was the influence in the 1950's of watching Fess Parker as Davy Crockett, whose famous phrase was "Be sure you're right, then go ahead.") Ernan, Columba and McLeod all had to make decision about life changing directions. Without them we would likely had neither the flourishing of the early Christian Celts, nor the magnitude the modern revival of interest in their teachings.
Lord, thank You for the renewal and rediscovery of the values and teachings of the early Celtic Christians like Columba and his uncle, St. Ernan. Thank You for the vision and energy of people like George McLeod who reallized the need to bring back the Celtic way into our mainstream and to combine it with ministry to the underserved. Help me with my life decisions as You did with them, and allow me listen to You as they did. Amen.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
December 21st--Solstice, thought on Celtic Holidays
Celtic Advent December 21st
The 21st has literally no true Celtic saints feasts. There are a couple of Anglo-saxon saints, but they have no Celtic connections like St. Hilda. But...it is Winter Soltice. That got me to thinking about Celtic Holidays in general and the idea of Christian/Non-Christian synthesis. I will finish up with some tribute to saints, so if you are reading this because you are a saint-a-holic, despair not.
Today is the shortest day of the year, the least amount of light. The ancient pre-Christian Celts divided up the year into a season of light and a season of dark. We know from the megalithic monuments that they were certainly aware of the equinoxes and soltices (like today). Yet they marked their year primarily by the midpoints between these solar events. Their festivals were November 1st Samhain, February 1st Imbolc, May 1st Beltane, and August 1st Lughnasa. Once the Celts converted to Christianity, these feasts didn't go away. Two of them were fairly succesfully converted to Christian feasts; November 1st became All-Saints day and February 1st became the feast of St. Brigid--which is followed on February 2nd by Candlemas, the presentation of Christ in the Temple. May 1st was "sort of" a Christian holiday at times: the later medieval designation of the feast of Mary, Queen of Heaven, or the Central European feast of St. Walpurgis. Lughnasa or Lammas was for a while the Feast of St. Peter in Chains, but this largely disappeared. Yet we, as humans, seem to have a persistance connection to these times of the year. Lughnasa is still celebrated in some parts of Ireland, and we Americans celebrate May Day, Ground Hog's day, and have made the eve of All Saints (Hallowed even: Halloween) the 2nd most celebrated Holiday in the US.
The early Christian Celts had a kind of mixed response to the pre-Christian traditions of the areas. The megalithic monuments and burial mounds were felt to be areas of demonic influence and were either avoided or approached with a sense of "spiritual battle" in mind.
Yet the Celts loved the stories of the ancient pre-Christian heroes and "gods." It was the Celtic Christian monastics who wrote down the stories of the Tuatha de Danaan, the early Celtic Warriors whose invasion of Ireland is documented in the Book of Conquests. There group included Lugh, a god-warrior after whom Lughnasa is named. The also wrote down the great Ulster cycle which included tales of the hero Cuchulain, who later morphed in medieval legend to the Christian knight Gawain. Cuchulain's main opponent was the queen of Connacht, Medb or Maeve, who has been held up as an example of early gender equality. There are even a tales which include encounters between the Irish gods and the Christian saints, as the former faded into either a less heroic and more humorous, mischief-making group: leprachauns.
Is it OK for me as a Christian to celebrate any of these non-Christian holidays? Could I, tonight, go to a solstice celebration? Or on August 1st, could my family have a Lughnasa party (which my son Bryan and I keep planning)? My very right wing Christian friends would say "no," this is paganism and should be avoided. Yet tonite, I will be singing in a Christmas concert in a church where one of the pieces includes the words "Welcome Yule." Yule has nothing to do with Christ, but is the ancient Germanic mid-winter celebration that included the myth of the great Wild Hunt. In another few months I will celebrate Easter, named after the German fertility goddess Oestre, whose cult involved symbols of fertility (eggs and rabbits). My own personal opinion: the influence of the solar cycle on human consciousness is not going to go away; it is a gift from God as a foreknowledge that light is still coming, it will overcome the darkness. Life will be reborn in the spring. As long as I celebrate with God and Christ in mind and heart, the peripherals of that celebration, like a pine tree with lights, or an Easter egg hunt, are just fun reminders of the joy of that time of year and an opportunity for family love and connection. If their origins are in pagan myths, so what.
I will end, as promised with a tribute to "saints" which was written by William John Fitzgerald, a Catholic priest who has authored several wonderful books, including A Contemporary Celtic Prayer Book, which this is from. It includes some non-saints in the prayer, note the pre-Christian Maeve is among them:
Prayer to the Vibrant Women of Celtic Lore
At eighty-three by the side of the sea,
She served us tea at Dun Laoghaire.
To an old tin shack,
Her friends would come back,
From one generation to three.
Her face was wrinkled and folded
But her eyes were a light,
And her smile was so bright
For all who passed by at Dun Laoghaire.
So this day, a toast and prayers
To the vibrant women of Celtic lore.
Ancient tea brewer of Dun Laoghaire,
Give me the vigor for life's daily jousts.
Countess Contance, holstered rebel,
Give me courage to make my stand.
Grace O'Malley, swachbuckler,
Guide my ship through stormy seas.
Brigit of Kildare, "Bride" of the Gaels,
May your shepherd's staff lead o'er high hills.
Maeve, mythic queen of ardor,
May her memory energize us for every challenge.
Hilda of Whitby, abbess of men and women,
Join the sexes together--our world to mend.
Ita of Limerick, foster mother of Brendan,
Help us to seek the Promised Land.
Amen.
The 21st has literally no true Celtic saints feasts. There are a couple of Anglo-saxon saints, but they have no Celtic connections like St. Hilda. But...it is Winter Soltice. That got me to thinking about Celtic Holidays in general and the idea of Christian/Non-Christian synthesis. I will finish up with some tribute to saints, so if you are reading this because you are a saint-a-holic, despair not.
Today is the shortest day of the year, the least amount of light. The ancient pre-Christian Celts divided up the year into a season of light and a season of dark. We know from the megalithic monuments that they were certainly aware of the equinoxes and soltices (like today). Yet they marked their year primarily by the midpoints between these solar events. Their festivals were November 1st Samhain, February 1st Imbolc, May 1st Beltane, and August 1st Lughnasa. Once the Celts converted to Christianity, these feasts didn't go away. Two of them were fairly succesfully converted to Christian feasts; November 1st became All-Saints day and February 1st became the feast of St. Brigid--which is followed on February 2nd by Candlemas, the presentation of Christ in the Temple. May 1st was "sort of" a Christian holiday at times: the later medieval designation of the feast of Mary, Queen of Heaven, or the Central European feast of St. Walpurgis. Lughnasa or Lammas was for a while the Feast of St. Peter in Chains, but this largely disappeared. Yet we, as humans, seem to have a persistance connection to these times of the year. Lughnasa is still celebrated in some parts of Ireland, and we Americans celebrate May Day, Ground Hog's day, and have made the eve of All Saints (Hallowed even: Halloween) the 2nd most celebrated Holiday in the US.
The early Christian Celts had a kind of mixed response to the pre-Christian traditions of the areas. The megalithic monuments and burial mounds were felt to be areas of demonic influence and were either avoided or approached with a sense of "spiritual battle" in mind.
Yet the Celts loved the stories of the ancient pre-Christian heroes and "gods." It was the Celtic Christian monastics who wrote down the stories of the Tuatha de Danaan, the early Celtic Warriors whose invasion of Ireland is documented in the Book of Conquests. There group included Lugh, a god-warrior after whom Lughnasa is named. The also wrote down the great Ulster cycle which included tales of the hero Cuchulain, who later morphed in medieval legend to the Christian knight Gawain. Cuchulain's main opponent was the queen of Connacht, Medb or Maeve, who has been held up as an example of early gender equality. There are even a tales which include encounters between the Irish gods and the Christian saints, as the former faded into either a less heroic and more humorous, mischief-making group: leprachauns.
Is it OK for me as a Christian to celebrate any of these non-Christian holidays? Could I, tonight, go to a solstice celebration? Or on August 1st, could my family have a Lughnasa party (which my son Bryan and I keep planning)? My very right wing Christian friends would say "no," this is paganism and should be avoided. Yet tonite, I will be singing in a Christmas concert in a church where one of the pieces includes the words "Welcome Yule." Yule has nothing to do with Christ, but is the ancient Germanic mid-winter celebration that included the myth of the great Wild Hunt. In another few months I will celebrate Easter, named after the German fertility goddess Oestre, whose cult involved symbols of fertility (eggs and rabbits). My own personal opinion: the influence of the solar cycle on human consciousness is not going to go away; it is a gift from God as a foreknowledge that light is still coming, it will overcome the darkness. Life will be reborn in the spring. As long as I celebrate with God and Christ in mind and heart, the peripherals of that celebration, like a pine tree with lights, or an Easter egg hunt, are just fun reminders of the joy of that time of year and an opportunity for family love and connection. If their origins are in pagan myths, so what.
I will end, as promised with a tribute to "saints" which was written by William John Fitzgerald, a Catholic priest who has authored several wonderful books, including A Contemporary Celtic Prayer Book, which this is from. It includes some non-saints in the prayer, note the pre-Christian Maeve is among them:
Prayer to the Vibrant Women of Celtic Lore
At eighty-three by the side of the sea,
She served us tea at Dun Laoghaire.
To an old tin shack,
Her friends would come back,
From one generation to three.
Her face was wrinkled and folded
But her eyes were a light,
And her smile was so bright
For all who passed by at Dun Laoghaire.
So this day, a toast and prayers
To the vibrant women of Celtic lore.
Ancient tea brewer of Dun Laoghaire,
Give me the vigor for life's daily jousts.
Countess Contance, holstered rebel,
Give me courage to make my stand.
Grace O'Malley, swachbuckler,
Guide my ship through stormy seas.
Brigit of Kildare, "Bride" of the Gaels,
May your shepherd's staff lead o'er high hills.
Maeve, mythic queen of ardor,
May her memory energize us for every challenge.
Hilda of Whitby, abbess of men and women,
Join the sexes together--our world to mend.
Ita of Limerick, foster mother of Brendan,
Help us to seek the Promised Land.
Amen.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Day 36 St Ursician and the Swiss connection
Celtic Advent December 20th St. Ursician of St-Ursanne.
I am going to digress a little from my usual launching into the life of the saint of the day and talk a little about Switzerland. Bear with me. Despite the fact that I have Irish and Scottish backgrounds on each side of my family tree, I am mostly (25%) Swiss. My grandmother, Sophie Pauline Eggenschwiler, was from just outside the town of Solothurn, in the canton by the same name in northwest Switzerland. She visited there in the late 1950's, having been gone from the area for close to 60 years. During that time period seven new houses had been built in the town, which otherwise remained unchanged.
The next Canton to the west of Solothurn is Jura, and one of the towns in Jura is St-Ursanne, which takes its name from Saint Ursician or Ursicinius, who was a disciple of the great Irish saint, Columbanus, whom I wrote about towards the end of November. The town and area didn't really change much from medieval times until 1875 when a railway came into the town.
Switzerland is one of the places that is on my bucket list, especially the Northwest area. It is also the "birthplace" of the Celtic peoples. Long before the existance of the 7 celtic nations, the La Tene and Halstead sites in and around Switzerland give evidence of a group of tribes with a particular swirling circular artwork on buckles and brooches...these were the early Celts, who populated France and Britain. They were later driven out by the Frankish people and then the Anglo-Saxons into the western fringe areas and northern Spain. So who knows, maybe my Swiss blood is actually also slightly tinged with Celtic genes...
Which brings us back to St. Ursician. Ursician, who died in 625AD, was according to one source of Frankish origin, and became a disciple of Columbanus during the sojourn of the latter in Luxieuil, France. Other sources list him as Irish, but his name is not of Celtic origin, so I personally am going with the Frankish descent. Columbanus' activities in Luxieuil eventually got him in trouble with the largely pagan authorities and he and his group of followers were told to "get out of Dodge."
The group travelled to Switzerland where at least 2 of Columbanus disciples, Ursician and Gall, remained. Gall was forced to stay because of an argument with Columbanus...we don't know what prompted Ursician to stay on. But in any event, Columbanus went south to Bobbio and Ursician stayed in Jura.
Ursician is reputed to have been a saint of great piety and humility, doing a lot of evangelism with the German tribes in the area. He decided to spend time as a hermit, and found a cave which he co-habited with a bear. The cave is still part of the tourist circuit in St-Ursanne, although one has to climb 150 steps to get to it. He is also reputed to have ahborred wine and to avoid the company of others who drank it. Knowing the personal preferences of my grandmother, my suspicion is that he was more of a beer person (OK, probably not...).
So what about Ursician inspires me or ignites a spiritual train of thought for me? I started to imagine what his life and motivations would have been like. If he was Frankish,and presumably originally pagan as most of the Franks at time were, he must have been greatly affected by the Irish missionaries to "join up." He would have then had to leave family and home and all he knew to continue to stay with Colubanus' group during the journey over the mountains to Switzerland. Then, he stays, apart from his new group, in an area where he knows no one, to preach a gospel that he has only recently found himself. Whew. One of the biographies of St Aidan, the founder of the monastery at Lindisfarne is titled "Flame in my Heart." Ursician must have had that flame also. What else could have explained his willingness to leave home and then have a lifetime in a country that was not his own? The "flame" would explain why, despite the lack of other details of his life, why his cave remained a pilgrimage site for many centuries. He must have "burned brightly."
It is so easy in our modern times for me to fall into a kind of "vanilla" approach to religion...show up for church, maybe take in an occasional adult formation, participate in a book group. But do I burn with love for my faith like Ursician must have? I hope that at times I do...
Lord, these early Celts had such devotion and greatness of Spirit in their daily lives. Guide me, as you did Ursician, that I may taste some of their "fire." Thank You for the inspiration that reading about them give me. In thy name. Amen.
I am going to digress a little from my usual launching into the life of the saint of the day and talk a little about Switzerland. Bear with me. Despite the fact that I have Irish and Scottish backgrounds on each side of my family tree, I am mostly (25%) Swiss. My grandmother, Sophie Pauline Eggenschwiler, was from just outside the town of Solothurn, in the canton by the same name in northwest Switzerland. She visited there in the late 1950's, having been gone from the area for close to 60 years. During that time period seven new houses had been built in the town, which otherwise remained unchanged.
The next Canton to the west of Solothurn is Jura, and one of the towns in Jura is St-Ursanne, which takes its name from Saint Ursician or Ursicinius, who was a disciple of the great Irish saint, Columbanus, whom I wrote about towards the end of November. The town and area didn't really change much from medieval times until 1875 when a railway came into the town.
Switzerland is one of the places that is on my bucket list, especially the Northwest area. It is also the "birthplace" of the Celtic peoples. Long before the existance of the 7 celtic nations, the La Tene and Halstead sites in and around Switzerland give evidence of a group of tribes with a particular swirling circular artwork on buckles and brooches...these were the early Celts, who populated France and Britain. They were later driven out by the Frankish people and then the Anglo-Saxons into the western fringe areas and northern Spain. So who knows, maybe my Swiss blood is actually also slightly tinged with Celtic genes...
Which brings us back to St. Ursician. Ursician, who died in 625AD, was according to one source of Frankish origin, and became a disciple of Columbanus during the sojourn of the latter in Luxieuil, France. Other sources list him as Irish, but his name is not of Celtic origin, so I personally am going with the Frankish descent. Columbanus' activities in Luxieuil eventually got him in trouble with the largely pagan authorities and he and his group of followers were told to "get out of Dodge."
The group travelled to Switzerland where at least 2 of Columbanus disciples, Ursician and Gall, remained. Gall was forced to stay because of an argument with Columbanus...we don't know what prompted Ursician to stay on. But in any event, Columbanus went south to Bobbio and Ursician stayed in Jura.
Ursician is reputed to have been a saint of great piety and humility, doing a lot of evangelism with the German tribes in the area. He decided to spend time as a hermit, and found a cave which he co-habited with a bear. The cave is still part of the tourist circuit in St-Ursanne, although one has to climb 150 steps to get to it. He is also reputed to have ahborred wine and to avoid the company of others who drank it. Knowing the personal preferences of my grandmother, my suspicion is that he was more of a beer person (OK, probably not...).
So what about Ursician inspires me or ignites a spiritual train of thought for me? I started to imagine what his life and motivations would have been like. If he was Frankish,and presumably originally pagan as most of the Franks at time were, he must have been greatly affected by the Irish missionaries to "join up." He would have then had to leave family and home and all he knew to continue to stay with Colubanus' group during the journey over the mountains to Switzerland. Then, he stays, apart from his new group, in an area where he knows no one, to preach a gospel that he has only recently found himself. Whew. One of the biographies of St Aidan, the founder of the monastery at Lindisfarne is titled "Flame in my Heart." Ursician must have had that flame also. What else could have explained his willingness to leave home and then have a lifetime in a country that was not his own? The "flame" would explain why, despite the lack of other details of his life, why his cave remained a pilgrimage site for many centuries. He must have "burned brightly."
It is so easy in our modern times for me to fall into a kind of "vanilla" approach to religion...show up for church, maybe take in an occasional adult formation, participate in a book group. But do I burn with love for my faith like Ursician must have? I hope that at times I do...
Lord, these early Celts had such devotion and greatness of Spirit in their daily lives. Guide me, as you did Ursician, that I may taste some of their "fire." Thank You for the inspiration that reading about them give me. In thy name. Amen.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
St Samthann--wise sayings from the 8th century
Celtic Advent Day 35 December 19th
St. Samthann of Clonbroney
St. Samthann could easily become one of my favorites of the Celtic Saints. Born in Ireland, she lived in and around County Meath, founding the Abbey of Clonbroney before her death in 739AD. Her feast day is alternatively listed as either December 18th or 19th.
It is reputed that she was promised in marraige against her will, but that she prayer fervently for a means to avoid the nuptuals. The morning of the ceremony a large fire broke out at the wedding site, scaring the guests and the groom...and allowing Samthann to escape to a abbey where she was able to take vows. She was soul-friend to a male saint, Maelruen, who later went on to be instrumental in the 8th century reform movement of Celtic Christianity, the Celi De, or Culdees.
The main aspect of her life that has caught attention over the centuries are the wise sayings that are attributed to her. There are three main sayings that I can find. A monk told Samthann that he was going to give up study so that he could better devote himself to prayer. Her reply was that he would never be able to fix his mind in prayer if he neglected study. Another monk announced that he wished to make a pilgrimage. She told him that Kingdom of Heaven can be reached without crossing the sea and the God is near to all who call on him. My favorite was when another monk asked her for advice on what position to assume for prayer. Her answer was "in every position: standing, sitting or lying."
I am a sucker for one line sayings like this. They seem to invite me to stop by brain's tendency for "what's next?," pause, and chew a little on that saying. I have a couple of collections of Desert Father and Mother sayings that I use for meditation. There is also a great page of Celtic Saint saying that is part of the Reformed Celtic Church site. It is most easily found at: www.celticsaintsblessings.com/wisdomofthesaints.htm
I was going to attempt to "wax eloquent" about the issue of prayer, how any time or position is appropriate for prayer, based on Samthann's admonition above. Then I realized that had already been done quite beautifully in a book that was sitting on my shelf: Holy Companions. Spiritual Practices from the Celtic Saints by Mary C. Earle and Sylvia Maddox. They have a chapter devoted to Samthann. Part of that reads:
"In the Celtic tradition we encounter a keen sense of God with us 'in every pass.'
Samthann's sayings and teachings reflect this. We can make the mistake of thinking
God is with us only in church, or only when we are saying a particular prayer, or only
when we are engaged in some activity of service. On the contrary, God in Christ reveals
to us that there is no place where God is not. Every moment of time, every speck of the
universe, is saturated with divine presence. Were that not the case, there would be no
time. no space.
Samthann calls us to allow ourselves to become aware of God's presence no matter what
position we pray in, whether we are at home or on pilgrimage, whether we are studying
or praying. This begins with simply paying attentin--paying attention to our lives, to our
surroundings, to our friends, to ourselves. This may sound easy. However, in a culture
as rushed and harried as ours, paying attention may require more practice than we'd expect!
Paying attention happens more easily when we slow down, become aware of our breath,
and see what is right in front of us. (page 112 of the book noted above)"
I try, often unsuccesfully, to incorporate this attitude of "pray at all times" in my life. Sometimes I will use the Way of the Pilgrim prayer (Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me a sinner) as a breath prayer when I am walking to my next destination. Other times I will pause before I enter a particular building, usually a Nursing Home or Assisted Living as that is where I spend most of my time, and realize that I am entering a place that can be as holy as a cathedral or monastery, depending on one's attitude to the people and surroundings. The town I live in has a plethora of trains that run through town. Murphy's law (another great Celtic saying) would ensure that the trains always comes at a time when I am being over scheduled and worried about being someplace on time. I used to take a perverse pleasure in seeing the crossing gates start to close a few blocks ahead of my route, then quickly turning and plotting out an alternative route in my mind to "beat the train." Now, most of the time, I will pause and wait, and use the time for a mini-contemplation. I hope St. Samthann would approve.
Lord, thank you as always for leading me to saints like Samthann. So often I need to slow down and remember that praying to you can be a delight to engage in, in whatever location or position that I am in. Despite the pre-Christmas rush, help me to return in these remaining days of advent to deliberation, prayer and peace. In thy name. Amen.
St. Samthann of Clonbroney
St. Samthann could easily become one of my favorites of the Celtic Saints. Born in Ireland, she lived in and around County Meath, founding the Abbey of Clonbroney before her death in 739AD. Her feast day is alternatively listed as either December 18th or 19th.
It is reputed that she was promised in marraige against her will, but that she prayer fervently for a means to avoid the nuptuals. The morning of the ceremony a large fire broke out at the wedding site, scaring the guests and the groom...and allowing Samthann to escape to a abbey where she was able to take vows. She was soul-friend to a male saint, Maelruen, who later went on to be instrumental in the 8th century reform movement of Celtic Christianity, the Celi De, or Culdees.
The main aspect of her life that has caught attention over the centuries are the wise sayings that are attributed to her. There are three main sayings that I can find. A monk told Samthann that he was going to give up study so that he could better devote himself to prayer. Her reply was that he would never be able to fix his mind in prayer if he neglected study. Another monk announced that he wished to make a pilgrimage. She told him that Kingdom of Heaven can be reached without crossing the sea and the God is near to all who call on him. My favorite was when another monk asked her for advice on what position to assume for prayer. Her answer was "in every position: standing, sitting or lying."
I am a sucker for one line sayings like this. They seem to invite me to stop by brain's tendency for "what's next?," pause, and chew a little on that saying. I have a couple of collections of Desert Father and Mother sayings that I use for meditation. There is also a great page of Celtic Saint saying that is part of the Reformed Celtic Church site. It is most easily found at: www.celticsaintsblessings.com/wisdomofthesaints.htm
I was going to attempt to "wax eloquent" about the issue of prayer, how any time or position is appropriate for prayer, based on Samthann's admonition above. Then I realized that had already been done quite beautifully in a book that was sitting on my shelf: Holy Companions. Spiritual Practices from the Celtic Saints by Mary C. Earle and Sylvia Maddox. They have a chapter devoted to Samthann. Part of that reads:
"In the Celtic tradition we encounter a keen sense of God with us 'in every pass.'
Samthann's sayings and teachings reflect this. We can make the mistake of thinking
God is with us only in church, or only when we are saying a particular prayer, or only
when we are engaged in some activity of service. On the contrary, God in Christ reveals
to us that there is no place where God is not. Every moment of time, every speck of the
universe, is saturated with divine presence. Were that not the case, there would be no
time. no space.
Samthann calls us to allow ourselves to become aware of God's presence no matter what
position we pray in, whether we are at home or on pilgrimage, whether we are studying
or praying. This begins with simply paying attentin--paying attention to our lives, to our
surroundings, to our friends, to ourselves. This may sound easy. However, in a culture
as rushed and harried as ours, paying attention may require more practice than we'd expect!
Paying attention happens more easily when we slow down, become aware of our breath,
and see what is right in front of us. (page 112 of the book noted above)"
I try, often unsuccesfully, to incorporate this attitude of "pray at all times" in my life. Sometimes I will use the Way of the Pilgrim prayer (Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me a sinner) as a breath prayer when I am walking to my next destination. Other times I will pause before I enter a particular building, usually a Nursing Home or Assisted Living as that is where I spend most of my time, and realize that I am entering a place that can be as holy as a cathedral or monastery, depending on one's attitude to the people and surroundings. The town I live in has a plethora of trains that run through town. Murphy's law (another great Celtic saying) would ensure that the trains always comes at a time when I am being over scheduled and worried about being someplace on time. I used to take a perverse pleasure in seeing the crossing gates start to close a few blocks ahead of my route, then quickly turning and plotting out an alternative route in my mind to "beat the train." Now, most of the time, I will pause and wait, and use the time for a mini-contemplation. I hope St. Samthann would approve.
Lord, thank you as always for leading me to saints like Samthann. So often I need to slow down and remember that praying to you can be a delight to engage in, in whatever location or position that I am in. Despite the pre-Christmas rush, help me to return in these remaining days of advent to deliberation, prayer and peace. In thy name. Amen.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
St. Flannan of Killaloe: Natural Justice
Celtic Advent December 18th St. Flannan of Killaloe
St. Flannan is a 7th century Irish saint who lived and worked at the monastery of Killaloe of county Clare. Of royal blood, he made an early decision to join the monastic orders. Early in his career he was assigned the job of baking bread. He was working at the end of a 36 hour shift, in the dark, and having trouble seeing, so God caused his left hand to glow with a great light so the he could finish up the job. The abbot walked in on Finnan and was so amazed at this blessing of his young monk that he resigned his position so that Finnan could be proclaimed abbot.
The monastery flourished under Flannan's leadership, so much so that the local populace pushed for him to be made bishop. After traveling to Rome to be approved in this position, Flannan returned to Killaloe. His tenure is described one of peace and prosperity with abundance of harvests, both from the land and sea.
Near the end of his life Flannan felt his life drawing to a close. Calling in his followers he pressed on them the importance of observing natural and human justice and to pursue peace amongt the provinces. After blessing them, he then breathed his last.
Flannan's story reads like a great "local boy succeeds in life" tale: not much controversy or violence and a transfiguration like episode to start it off. What attracted my attention was his death bed admonition to his disciples. It may be an apocryphal quote added centuries later, but I love the idea of promoting natural and human justice as well as peace. Remember these are Celts we are talking about, and a good fight or battle was sometimes hard to resist.
I decided to google "natural justice" to see what I got. There is a very legal definition that has to do with avoiding bias and promoting fairness in court procedings--probably not a Celtic theme there, although I am glad it is a tenet of the courts. There is a recent book by the title of Natural Justice that promotes a theory of social morality--that seems to fit better with Flannan's words. My favorite however was a South African coalition of Lawyers by the name of Natural Justice that promotes rights for communities and the environment. Most recently they have been working with other groups in India with concerns about the escalation of violence towards women in the subcontinent. Flannan and his fellow Celtic saints would have loved that one. As I have mentioned in prior posts, the Celts had a strong affinity with nature. Their sense of local community was a key to their success, and there was little if no descrimination by gender amongst the Irish religious communities of those early centuries.
One of my other favorite Celtic saints, David of Wales, has another a great death bed quote: "Be faithful in the little things." I am really glad that both David and Flannan decided to be spiritual and eloquent in their last words and not say something like... "Rosebud." (If you don't understand that you haven't watched enough movies). Actually, when I think about it, isn't the death of Jesus the ultimate benchmark of admonitions given during the dying process: "Father forgive them for they know not what they do!"
Flannan's story has no thrilling ups and downs. There are no poisonings, no Cliffs of Despair, no Dread Pirate Roberts. Yet I love stories like Flannan's and his last words inspire me to continue to pursue "natural justice."
Lord, help the last words of your servant Flannan continue to inspire not just myself but the church as a whole. We need peace. And we need both natural and human justice. Enshrine these values in our hearts in this season before Christmas, and let them continue to grow in us throughout this next year. In Thy name. Amen.
St. Flannan is a 7th century Irish saint who lived and worked at the monastery of Killaloe of county Clare. Of royal blood, he made an early decision to join the monastic orders. Early in his career he was assigned the job of baking bread. He was working at the end of a 36 hour shift, in the dark, and having trouble seeing, so God caused his left hand to glow with a great light so the he could finish up the job. The abbot walked in on Finnan and was so amazed at this blessing of his young monk that he resigned his position so that Finnan could be proclaimed abbot.
The monastery flourished under Flannan's leadership, so much so that the local populace pushed for him to be made bishop. After traveling to Rome to be approved in this position, Flannan returned to Killaloe. His tenure is described one of peace and prosperity with abundance of harvests, both from the land and sea.
Near the end of his life Flannan felt his life drawing to a close. Calling in his followers he pressed on them the importance of observing natural and human justice and to pursue peace amongt the provinces. After blessing them, he then breathed his last.
Flannan's story reads like a great "local boy succeeds in life" tale: not much controversy or violence and a transfiguration like episode to start it off. What attracted my attention was his death bed admonition to his disciples. It may be an apocryphal quote added centuries later, but I love the idea of promoting natural and human justice as well as peace. Remember these are Celts we are talking about, and a good fight or battle was sometimes hard to resist.
I decided to google "natural justice" to see what I got. There is a very legal definition that has to do with avoiding bias and promoting fairness in court procedings--probably not a Celtic theme there, although I am glad it is a tenet of the courts. There is a recent book by the title of Natural Justice that promotes a theory of social morality--that seems to fit better with Flannan's words. My favorite however was a South African coalition of Lawyers by the name of Natural Justice that promotes rights for communities and the environment. Most recently they have been working with other groups in India with concerns about the escalation of violence towards women in the subcontinent. Flannan and his fellow Celtic saints would have loved that one. As I have mentioned in prior posts, the Celts had a strong affinity with nature. Their sense of local community was a key to their success, and there was little if no descrimination by gender amongst the Irish religious communities of those early centuries.
One of my other favorite Celtic saints, David of Wales, has another a great death bed quote: "Be faithful in the little things." I am really glad that both David and Flannan decided to be spiritual and eloquent in their last words and not say something like... "Rosebud." (If you don't understand that you haven't watched enough movies). Actually, when I think about it, isn't the death of Jesus the ultimate benchmark of admonitions given during the dying process: "Father forgive them for they know not what they do!"
Flannan's story has no thrilling ups and downs. There are no poisonings, no Cliffs of Despair, no Dread Pirate Roberts. Yet I love stories like Flannan's and his last words inspire me to continue to pursue "natural justice."
Lord, help the last words of your servant Flannan continue to inspire not just myself but the church as a whole. We need peace. And we need both natural and human justice. Enshrine these values in our hearts in this season before Christmas, and let them continue to grow in us throughout this next year. In Thy name. Amen.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
St Brioch of Brittany--not to be confused with a brioche
Celtic Advent December 17th St. Brioch (Brioc) of Brittany
Celtic and Old English Saints on-line has 2 choices for today. One is St. Judicael, whose brother Judoc (Josse or Joyce) I had written about several days ago, so that seemed redundant.
I started to google St. Brioch and got lots of pages about pastry...fortunately, like most early Celtic saints he has several name variations. Here is what I found out:
St. Brioc is considered one of the major saints of Brittany. The abbey-church he founded at St. Brieuc is part of the great pilgrimage route to sites of the Breton saints. He lived primarily in the late 6th century, having come originally from Cornwall. The earliest extant account of his life was not written until the 1100's and has a lot of chronologic inconsistencies in terms of other saints or rulers that Brioc encountered.
That having been said, Brioc, like many of the Celts, travelled back and forth between Brittany, Wales and Cornwall. He travels specifically seem to be focused on evangelism of pagan areas. He is reputed to have converted several local kings and their subjects.
One source I read indicated that on a trip back to Cornwall he converted his previous pagan parents. (However, another source indicates that the parents were visited by an angel at the time of Brioc's birth, causing their conversion).
The early Celtic Christians were masters of evangelism. How they were able to accomplish what they did has always fascinated me. The Roman Empire, although become more and more Christian prior to Constantine, was really pushed over into Christianity by the decree of the Emperor that Christianity was now the state religion. Spain and South and Central America were largely evangelized at sword point (convert or die). The Celts, on the other handddd, were not evangelizing from a position of power, but from a position of weakness. Patrick, who converts Ireland, was a former slave of the Irish. The Celts in Britain are attempting to convert their conquerors, the Anglo-Saxons.
George Hunter has written a marvelous book, The Celtic Way of Evangelism, that contrasts the Roman versus the Celtic methods. Without repeating everything he states, it seems like Celtic evangelism has much more in common with the modern inner-city missional movements or with Mother Theresa in Calcutta: Move into the neighborhood; try to understand the local culture; engage in service to the local needs; have simple services of worship to which the locals you serve can be invited.
Although raised in the church, I went through a long period of agnosticism until my late 30's. During that time period, the "threatening" kind of evangelism totally turned me off ("You don't want to burn in hell do you? You better come to our church to be saved.") Discovering Celtic Christianity coincided for me with an introduction to contemplative prayer. The Celtic aspect had a major emphasis on the goodness of creation, on service, on humility. The contemplative prayer discovery led me to a sense of peace and the overwhelming, irresistable love emanating from God. The combination was a 1-2 punch to get me out of my agnostic phase. Maybe that is why, in Advent, I am continuing to blog about these Celtic saints...I owe them! And the blogging itself often leads into a contemplative time...
Lord, thank You for saints like Breoc and the "gentle" way that they brought You into the hearts of new believers. Thank You for the continued resurrence of interest in the Celtic way of evangelism. We certainly need it. Amen
Celtic and Old English Saints on-line has 2 choices for today. One is St. Judicael, whose brother Judoc (Josse or Joyce) I had written about several days ago, so that seemed redundant.
I started to google St. Brioch and got lots of pages about pastry...fortunately, like most early Celtic saints he has several name variations. Here is what I found out:
St. Brioc is considered one of the major saints of Brittany. The abbey-church he founded at St. Brieuc is part of the great pilgrimage route to sites of the Breton saints. He lived primarily in the late 6th century, having come originally from Cornwall. The earliest extant account of his life was not written until the 1100's and has a lot of chronologic inconsistencies in terms of other saints or rulers that Brioc encountered.
That having been said, Brioc, like many of the Celts, travelled back and forth between Brittany, Wales and Cornwall. He travels specifically seem to be focused on evangelism of pagan areas. He is reputed to have converted several local kings and their subjects.
One source I read indicated that on a trip back to Cornwall he converted his previous pagan parents. (However, another source indicates that the parents were visited by an angel at the time of Brioc's birth, causing their conversion).
The early Celtic Christians were masters of evangelism. How they were able to accomplish what they did has always fascinated me. The Roman Empire, although become more and more Christian prior to Constantine, was really pushed over into Christianity by the decree of the Emperor that Christianity was now the state religion. Spain and South and Central America were largely evangelized at sword point (convert or die). The Celts, on the other handddd, were not evangelizing from a position of power, but from a position of weakness. Patrick, who converts Ireland, was a former slave of the Irish. The Celts in Britain are attempting to convert their conquerors, the Anglo-Saxons.
George Hunter has written a marvelous book, The Celtic Way of Evangelism, that contrasts the Roman versus the Celtic methods. Without repeating everything he states, it seems like Celtic evangelism has much more in common with the modern inner-city missional movements or with Mother Theresa in Calcutta: Move into the neighborhood; try to understand the local culture; engage in service to the local needs; have simple services of worship to which the locals you serve can be invited.
Although raised in the church, I went through a long period of agnosticism until my late 30's. During that time period, the "threatening" kind of evangelism totally turned me off ("You don't want to burn in hell do you? You better come to our church to be saved.") Discovering Celtic Christianity coincided for me with an introduction to contemplative prayer. The Celtic aspect had a major emphasis on the goodness of creation, on service, on humility. The contemplative prayer discovery led me to a sense of peace and the overwhelming, irresistable love emanating from God. The combination was a 1-2 punch to get me out of my agnostic phase. Maybe that is why, in Advent, I am continuing to blog about these Celtic saints...I owe them! And the blogging itself often leads into a contemplative time...
Lord, thank You for saints like Breoc and the "gentle" way that they brought You into the hearts of new believers. Thank You for the continued resurrence of interest in the Celtic way of evangelism. We certainly need it. Amen
Monday, December 16, 2013
St Beoc or Dahbeog of Lough Derg--guarding the gates of hell
Celtic Advent December 16th St. Beoc
St Beoc, who is also known at Dabheog, was a disciple of St. Patrick from the 5th century AD. He is the patron saint of Lough Derg in Donegal and purportedly the founder of a monastery there.
There are a few stories that one can find about saints named Beoc. Most were written down in the late 1800's or early 1900's so their veracity is suspect and I am uncertain if they relate to the Beoc from today. One talks about a St. Beoc of the 5th century from Wexford, who spent time in a cell in southeast Ireland. He would stare out at the sea longing to visit Brittany. His prayers were granted when the rock he was standing on broke off, floated into the sea and carried him to Brittany (scaring the local sailors in the process). Another book about the area describes Beoc as "spending his whole life, as the other saints in Ireland, in battle with his own soul." (St. Patrick's Purgatory, Shane Leslie, 1917)
This last quote ties in with one of the histories that I found most interesting. Beoc was entrusted by St. Patrick with guarding the nearby site known at "St. Patrick's Purgatory," on Station Island. There is a legend that St. Patrick was having troubles either converting people or keeping new converts on the straight and narrow. He prayed about this and was told that to help him out, God created a cave that gave a direct view of Hell, so that people staring into it would be scared and saved. It was a pilgrimage site in Ireland for many centuries and still has a monument on it today, although the entrance to the cave has been closed for some time.
This story and the preceding quote about "battling with his own soul," reminded me about my preconceptions about saints: that they are somehow beyond the battles with temptation that confront those of us mere non-saintly humans. But that is far from the case. In fact, as I think about it, a large number of the saints were examples that we often must struggle with temptation even more once we have made the decision to follow in Christ's foot steps. I think of St. Anthony struggling with "demons" in the desert for example.
If I have had a particularly "great" day spiritually, a deep period of contemplative prayer, or a day filled with peace and oneness with creation, then there seems to be a pattern where shortly after I am placed in a situation of "broken-ness". Maybe this is something minor like being tempted to overdose on chocolate (last night it was waffle fries covered with green chili), or maybe something more relational, like constantly feeling irritable towards my co-workers for a day or 2 for inexplicable reasons. The best I can do in these situations is just surrender my mood, my yearnings to Christ.
We are approaching the darkest time of the year. I, for one, need the knowledge and hope of the incarnation, to keep me on the path I have chose. Although I don't particularly want to descend into a cave for a vision of hell, I am hoping that reading about saints like Beoc will help me in my seasonal pilgrimage and beyond.
Lord, I really want, this Advent season, to keep focused on You. I want to embrace the Christmas spirit of Love and Peace. Help me to however avoid the stress of the soul that this season can also bring, with the tendency to become frustrated and irritable. Thank you for the examples of your saints and their struggles. They help a lot. Amen
St Beoc, who is also known at Dabheog, was a disciple of St. Patrick from the 5th century AD. He is the patron saint of Lough Derg in Donegal and purportedly the founder of a monastery there.
There are a few stories that one can find about saints named Beoc. Most were written down in the late 1800's or early 1900's so their veracity is suspect and I am uncertain if they relate to the Beoc from today. One talks about a St. Beoc of the 5th century from Wexford, who spent time in a cell in southeast Ireland. He would stare out at the sea longing to visit Brittany. His prayers were granted when the rock he was standing on broke off, floated into the sea and carried him to Brittany (scaring the local sailors in the process). Another book about the area describes Beoc as "spending his whole life, as the other saints in Ireland, in battle with his own soul." (St. Patrick's Purgatory, Shane Leslie, 1917)
This last quote ties in with one of the histories that I found most interesting. Beoc was entrusted by St. Patrick with guarding the nearby site known at "St. Patrick's Purgatory," on Station Island. There is a legend that St. Patrick was having troubles either converting people or keeping new converts on the straight and narrow. He prayed about this and was told that to help him out, God created a cave that gave a direct view of Hell, so that people staring into it would be scared and saved. It was a pilgrimage site in Ireland for many centuries and still has a monument on it today, although the entrance to the cave has been closed for some time.
This story and the preceding quote about "battling with his own soul," reminded me about my preconceptions about saints: that they are somehow beyond the battles with temptation that confront those of us mere non-saintly humans. But that is far from the case. In fact, as I think about it, a large number of the saints were examples that we often must struggle with temptation even more once we have made the decision to follow in Christ's foot steps. I think of St. Anthony struggling with "demons" in the desert for example.
If I have had a particularly "great" day spiritually, a deep period of contemplative prayer, or a day filled with peace and oneness with creation, then there seems to be a pattern where shortly after I am placed in a situation of "broken-ness". Maybe this is something minor like being tempted to overdose on chocolate (last night it was waffle fries covered with green chili), or maybe something more relational, like constantly feeling irritable towards my co-workers for a day or 2 for inexplicable reasons. The best I can do in these situations is just surrender my mood, my yearnings to Christ.
We are approaching the darkest time of the year. I, for one, need the knowledge and hope of the incarnation, to keep me on the path I have chose. Although I don't particularly want to descend into a cave for a vision of hell, I am hoping that reading about saints like Beoc will help me in my seasonal pilgrimage and beyond.
Lord, I really want, this Advent season, to keep focused on You. I want to embrace the Christmas spirit of Love and Peace. Help me to however avoid the stress of the soul that this season can also bring, with the tendency to become frustrated and irritable. Thank you for the examples of your saints and their struggles. They help a lot. Amen
St Flann--thought about Celtic art
Celtic Advent December 15th
St. Flann of Bangor
St. Flann, or Florentius in the Latinized version, was the Abbott of Bangor Abbey in Northern Ireland; he died in 722 AD. There are only a few "one liners" listed about him in various resource documents, mostly just repeating what I have just mentioned above. He is also described as being active during the great time of Irish evangelism and as someone who encouraged an resurgence in art during a period when it was waning in Western Europe.
It was this latter aspect of St. Flann that led me down another path of inquiry. As soon as I read about the his patronage of the arts I began to wonder if there was any link to the magnificant Celtic Gospel manuscripts like the Book Kells. I have often been fascinated with their intricate detail, the strange creatures that lurk in the letters of the great Chi-Ro page, the repeating patterns that seem almost hypnotic. There is a beautiful fictional animated film about the book called the Secret of Kells that I would highly recommend.
But...most of the Celtic gospel artwork came either later than St. Flann (Kells was around 800 AD) or seemed to originate in Celtic monastaries outside of Ireland proper. Kells was thought to have been done on the island of Iona, and the Books of Durrow and Lindisfarne likely originated in Northumbria. So that theory didn't seem valid.
I thought about the magnificent high Celtic stone crosses such as those at Monastairboice, but those were centuries later than Flann. Indeed the main art form that has survived from Ireland that is coincident with St Flann's tenure at Bangor is that of metallurgy. Two of the major examples of this time period would be the Chalice of Ardagh (pictured above) and the Brooch of Tara.
I have no expertise in art work, but the what I have read indicated that the detail and symmetry of these pieces was considered quite elegant for the times. One on-line source devoted to religious art described these examples of gold work as being produced by the Irish Celts as a form of praise to God, as adorning their religious services with a brightness that symbolized the light of Christ.
Then I started to think about what happened not too long after the time of St. Flann: the Norse invasions of Ireland and the surrounding areas. The Vikings came because of plunder--the gold treasures of the monastaries. And large numbers of people died because of those invasions.
That creates a conundrum for me from a theologic viewpoint. Should we glorify God with items of great value, even if beautiful, if those items cause greed and envy in others--eventually leading to violence? My grandmother and aunt, whose faith was a significant part of my own, attended a very simple, plain church in rural Connecticut; what my mother would have called "Low Church" at the time. Perhaps it is this influence that is working through my brain as I ponder these beautiful works of gold. From an art standpoint, they are incredible. Yet I find myself not terribly attracted to them theologically. One of my clergy friends is fond of pointing out that the chalice that is chosen by Harrison Ford in one of the Indiana Jones' movies, is very simple and plain--the cup of a carpenter.
Advent is in full swing. There is a lot of money being spent, often on very beautiful items. My best holiday memories are not of opening up gifts as a child...they are of my time with family...which, of course, is priceless. So...
Lord, there has been incredible art created in Your name. Much of it I love and cherish. Never let me forget, however, that it is "relationship" that is our greatest treasure. Why else would You choose Mary and the manger? In Thy name, Amen.
St. Flann of Bangor
St. Flann, or Florentius in the Latinized version, was the Abbott of Bangor Abbey in Northern Ireland; he died in 722 AD. There are only a few "one liners" listed about him in various resource documents, mostly just repeating what I have just mentioned above. He is also described as being active during the great time of Irish evangelism and as someone who encouraged an resurgence in art during a period when it was waning in Western Europe.
It was this latter aspect of St. Flann that led me down another path of inquiry. As soon as I read about the his patronage of the arts I began to wonder if there was any link to the magnificant Celtic Gospel manuscripts like the Book Kells. I have often been fascinated with their intricate detail, the strange creatures that lurk in the letters of the great Chi-Ro page, the repeating patterns that seem almost hypnotic. There is a beautiful fictional animated film about the book called the Secret of Kells that I would highly recommend.
But...most of the Celtic gospel artwork came either later than St. Flann (Kells was around 800 AD) or seemed to originate in Celtic monastaries outside of Ireland proper. Kells was thought to have been done on the island of Iona, and the Books of Durrow and Lindisfarne likely originated in Northumbria. So that theory didn't seem valid.
I thought about the magnificent high Celtic stone crosses such as those at Monastairboice, but those were centuries later than Flann. Indeed the main art form that has survived from Ireland that is coincident with St Flann's tenure at Bangor is that of metallurgy. Two of the major examples of this time period would be the Chalice of Ardagh (pictured above) and the Brooch of Tara.
I have no expertise in art work, but the what I have read indicated that the detail and symmetry of these pieces was considered quite elegant for the times. One on-line source devoted to religious art described these examples of gold work as being produced by the Irish Celts as a form of praise to God, as adorning their religious services with a brightness that symbolized the light of Christ.
Then I started to think about what happened not too long after the time of St. Flann: the Norse invasions of Ireland and the surrounding areas. The Vikings came because of plunder--the gold treasures of the monastaries. And large numbers of people died because of those invasions.
That creates a conundrum for me from a theologic viewpoint. Should we glorify God with items of great value, even if beautiful, if those items cause greed and envy in others--eventually leading to violence? My grandmother and aunt, whose faith was a significant part of my own, attended a very simple, plain church in rural Connecticut; what my mother would have called "Low Church" at the time. Perhaps it is this influence that is working through my brain as I ponder these beautiful works of gold. From an art standpoint, they are incredible. Yet I find myself not terribly attracted to them theologically. One of my clergy friends is fond of pointing out that the chalice that is chosen by Harrison Ford in one of the Indiana Jones' movies, is very simple and plain--the cup of a carpenter.
Advent is in full swing. There is a lot of money being spent, often on very beautiful items. My best holiday memories are not of opening up gifts as a child...they are of my time with family...which, of course, is priceless. So...
Lord, there has been incredible art created in Your name. Much of it I love and cherish. Never let me forget, however, that it is "relationship" that is our greatest treasure. Why else would You choose Mary and the manger? In Thy name, Amen.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
St Hygbald, a disciple of St. Chad
Celtic Advent December 14th. St. Hygbald
St Hygbald or Hibald is not Celtic but Anglo-Saxon. Obviously I have been trying to write about Celtic saints, but made exceptions for St. Hilda and St. Bertoara as they were disciples of Celtic saints. The same is true of Hygbald, who died around 690AD and was an abbot in the area of Lindsey in Northeast England.
As often is the case, there is not a lot written about St. Hygbald, but one of the main aspects of his life was that he was a disciple of St. Chad of Lichfield. Chad, educated in Ireland, was one of St. Aidan's followers and was one of the main pro-celtic supporters at the Synod of Whitby (See St. Hilda and November 17th). Chad seems to have been persistently embroiled in controversial situations. After the Roman faction won out at Whitby Chad stepped out the limelight for a while and lived in a hermitage. He later became Bishop of Mercia but was told that the Pope has chosen someone else, another pro-Rome supporter, and he was forced to resign. If Hygbald was one of Chad's followers, he would have seen first hand the strained relations that can ensure from church politics and church fights. Hygbald emulated Chad by going through a period of living as a hermit.
Hygbald merits a few lines of description from the Venerable Bede. He is described as "abstemious" in his behavior, and constantly speaking of saints that had gone before, including the desert fathers. I had to check an on-line dictionary to remind myself about "abstemious:" refraining from excessive food and drink!
Hygbald still has a following apparently amongst Orthodox Christians in England, with the following Troparion dedicated to him:
"Thou didst love Christ all thy life, O blessed one,
and longing to work for Him as a hermit
thou didst struggle by the pools and carrs of Lindsey with good works, prayer and labour.
With penitent heart and great love for Christ
thou worked with missionary zeal for the Lord.
Wherefore we cry to thee:
beseech the Lord that our labours may be blessed and that our souls may be saved.
St. Hybald, ora pro nobis!"
I resonated with Hygbald's life in a number of areas. I get very frustrated with church politics, which there seems to abound these days. When I see a saint like Hygbald who just focuses in on their own dedication to Christ, regardless of the storms of politics around them, it gives me a sense of re-affirmation. If these early Celts and their Anglo-Saxon disciples were able to keep spiritually oriented during times of upheaval, then so can I. I obviously love studying about saints, so to hear that Hybald studied about the saints gives me a sense of connection!
Finally, it is just 10 days before Christmas. Was it an accident that God led me to read up about a saint who is described as "abstemious?" I am surrounded by chocolate, cream and things made with large amounts of butter every where I turn. And, of course there are the Christmas and Winter Ales being put out by most of the breweries on the Front Range. My question is rhetorical, for in situations like this, there are no "accidents." So...
Lord, as always, you have led me to a saint, who, however obscure, has something that speaks to me. Thank you for saints like Hygbald. Help me to remain, during these times of indulgence and factionalism to remain centered in You. Let me turn to You for a sense of peace rather than using food or drink as comfort. Be Thou my strength and shield. Amen
St Hygbald or Hibald is not Celtic but Anglo-Saxon. Obviously I have been trying to write about Celtic saints, but made exceptions for St. Hilda and St. Bertoara as they were disciples of Celtic saints. The same is true of Hygbald, who died around 690AD and was an abbot in the area of Lindsey in Northeast England.
As often is the case, there is not a lot written about St. Hygbald, but one of the main aspects of his life was that he was a disciple of St. Chad of Lichfield. Chad, educated in Ireland, was one of St. Aidan's followers and was one of the main pro-celtic supporters at the Synod of Whitby (See St. Hilda and November 17th). Chad seems to have been persistently embroiled in controversial situations. After the Roman faction won out at Whitby Chad stepped out the limelight for a while and lived in a hermitage. He later became Bishop of Mercia but was told that the Pope has chosen someone else, another pro-Rome supporter, and he was forced to resign. If Hygbald was one of Chad's followers, he would have seen first hand the strained relations that can ensure from church politics and church fights. Hygbald emulated Chad by going through a period of living as a hermit.
Hygbald merits a few lines of description from the Venerable Bede. He is described as "abstemious" in his behavior, and constantly speaking of saints that had gone before, including the desert fathers. I had to check an on-line dictionary to remind myself about "abstemious:" refraining from excessive food and drink!
Hygbald still has a following apparently amongst Orthodox Christians in England, with the following Troparion dedicated to him:
"Thou didst love Christ all thy life, O blessed one,
and longing to work for Him as a hermit
thou didst struggle by the pools and carrs of Lindsey with good works, prayer and labour.
With penitent heart and great love for Christ
thou worked with missionary zeal for the Lord.
Wherefore we cry to thee:
beseech the Lord that our labours may be blessed and that our souls may be saved.
St. Hybald, ora pro nobis!"
I resonated with Hygbald's life in a number of areas. I get very frustrated with church politics, which there seems to abound these days. When I see a saint like Hygbald who just focuses in on their own dedication to Christ, regardless of the storms of politics around them, it gives me a sense of re-affirmation. If these early Celts and their Anglo-Saxon disciples were able to keep spiritually oriented during times of upheaval, then so can I. I obviously love studying about saints, so to hear that Hybald studied about the saints gives me a sense of connection!
Finally, it is just 10 days before Christmas. Was it an accident that God led me to read up about a saint who is described as "abstemious?" I am surrounded by chocolate, cream and things made with large amounts of butter every where I turn. And, of course there are the Christmas and Winter Ales being put out by most of the breweries on the Front Range. My question is rhetorical, for in situations like this, there are no "accidents." So...
Lord, as always, you have led me to a saint, who, however obscure, has something that speaks to me. Thank you for saints like Hygbald. Help me to remain, during these times of indulgence and factionalism to remain centered in You. Let me turn to You for a sense of peace rather than using food or drink as comfort. Be Thou my strength and shield. Amen
Friday, December 13, 2013
St Judoc: Rambling about Expectations and Compromise
December 13th, 11 days left in Celtic Advent
St. Judoc (also Josse and Joyce)
St Judoc, from the royal family of Brittany, lived from 600 to 668AD. On the death of his father, King Juthael, Judoc's older brother, Judicael, became king. They both were apparently fairly religious....the older brother abdicated to become a hermit, leaving Judoc as king. Judoc vacilated about taking the throne for some months and finally decided that instead what he really wanted to do was to devote his life to Christ and refused the throne.
Judoc travelled to Ponthieu where the local count allowed him to set up a hermitage. After a pilgrimage to Rome, Judoc eventually settled at Runiacum in another hermitage, after his death the area became known at Josse-sur-la-mer.
Judoc developed a large cult following after his death. Josse-sur-la-mer was on the main highway that led to the starting point of the Pilgrim Road, the Way, to Santiago de Compostela, for anyone who was coming from north of Spain. As such, pilgrims tended to stop there and St. Judoc became one of the patron saints of pilgrimage.
His relics were, at some point, take to England and enshrined near Hyde. His following was popular enough in both England and France during the high medieval period that "Joyce" and the diminuitive "Jocelyn" became a popular name for both genders in these areas--this obviously continues to this day, although I doubt many "Jocelyns" are familiar with the origin of their name.
What struck me about Judoc (and his brother) was how we as humans deal with the tension between external, societal expectations and our own sense of calling. I was trying to think of what could be an appropriate modern example. Perhaps because there was a Bronco game on last night, I started to fantasize about how fans would react if, prior to the start of playoffs, both Eli and Peyton Manning announced they were leaving football as they had been called to do mission work in Nigeria? Probably multiple law suits from book makers and fantasy football leaguers would ensue! We are surrounded by expectations, of our families, our friends and ourselves. How much compromise do we allow ourselves?
In my own life, part of my neomonastic vows has been that I would try to take communion weekly. Initially I was really good at this. On vacation or conference trips I would find a local church and try to "sneak" off for a time of eucharist and devotion. If I was in a remote area (like backpacking with my kids in the Tetons) I would try to emulate Teillhard de Chardin and go through a eucharistic devotion in my mind (see his Mass of the World as an example).
In recent years, life and circumstances seem to have gotten in the way of this. Less churches have weekday or early Sunday am eucharists, or the start times have changed to limit my access. Conferences that I go to now start at 7am on Sunday, so I have to decide "do I miss the meeting that my office is paying for or skip it to fulfill my vow." One of my in-laws would sometimes throw out an exasperated look if I was found to be using "family time" to head off to church. Church schisms haven't helped much either.
But, let's face it. All these circumstances are, ultimately, excuses. There is a somewhat obscure fantasy writer from the mid 20th century named James Branch Cavell. One of his main characters, Jurgen, spends an inordinate amount of time in the novel named for him wandering through Mispec Moor, until he finally comes home again. Mispec Moor is an anagram for "Compromise." And that's where I have been, lost on the Moor.
There are 11 days left in Advent, and 18 days left before the time of new resolutions. I know at least one of my soul-friends is reading this blog and will hold me to a return to my Rule of Life. I know need to get back on the horse. If I am sincere in my devotions, then I need to reinstitute my vow, not as a chore, but as a joy, the joy of feeling that sense of oneness with others who are or have been partaking of the eucharist, including all these long gone Celtic saints whom I admire so much. Whew:
Lord, I had know I idea that when you led me to St. Judoc it would bring face to face with examining my own short-comings, my own compromises. Thank You for doing that. Instill in me, Lord, a new sense of purpose and joy as I lay aside "expectations" and follow Your will.
Amen.
St. Judoc (also Josse and Joyce)
St Judoc, from the royal family of Brittany, lived from 600 to 668AD. On the death of his father, King Juthael, Judoc's older brother, Judicael, became king. They both were apparently fairly religious....the older brother abdicated to become a hermit, leaving Judoc as king. Judoc vacilated about taking the throne for some months and finally decided that instead what he really wanted to do was to devote his life to Christ and refused the throne.
Judoc travelled to Ponthieu where the local count allowed him to set up a hermitage. After a pilgrimage to Rome, Judoc eventually settled at Runiacum in another hermitage, after his death the area became known at Josse-sur-la-mer.
Judoc developed a large cult following after his death. Josse-sur-la-mer was on the main highway that led to the starting point of the Pilgrim Road, the Way, to Santiago de Compostela, for anyone who was coming from north of Spain. As such, pilgrims tended to stop there and St. Judoc became one of the patron saints of pilgrimage.
His relics were, at some point, take to England and enshrined near Hyde. His following was popular enough in both England and France during the high medieval period that "Joyce" and the diminuitive "Jocelyn" became a popular name for both genders in these areas--this obviously continues to this day, although I doubt many "Jocelyns" are familiar with the origin of their name.
What struck me about Judoc (and his brother) was how we as humans deal with the tension between external, societal expectations and our own sense of calling. I was trying to think of what could be an appropriate modern example. Perhaps because there was a Bronco game on last night, I started to fantasize about how fans would react if, prior to the start of playoffs, both Eli and Peyton Manning announced they were leaving football as they had been called to do mission work in Nigeria? Probably multiple law suits from book makers and fantasy football leaguers would ensue! We are surrounded by expectations, of our families, our friends and ourselves. How much compromise do we allow ourselves?
In my own life, part of my neomonastic vows has been that I would try to take communion weekly. Initially I was really good at this. On vacation or conference trips I would find a local church and try to "sneak" off for a time of eucharist and devotion. If I was in a remote area (like backpacking with my kids in the Tetons) I would try to emulate Teillhard de Chardin and go through a eucharistic devotion in my mind (see his Mass of the World as an example).
In recent years, life and circumstances seem to have gotten in the way of this. Less churches have weekday or early Sunday am eucharists, or the start times have changed to limit my access. Conferences that I go to now start at 7am on Sunday, so I have to decide "do I miss the meeting that my office is paying for or skip it to fulfill my vow." One of my in-laws would sometimes throw out an exasperated look if I was found to be using "family time" to head off to church. Church schisms haven't helped much either.
But, let's face it. All these circumstances are, ultimately, excuses. There is a somewhat obscure fantasy writer from the mid 20th century named James Branch Cavell. One of his main characters, Jurgen, spends an inordinate amount of time in the novel named for him wandering through Mispec Moor, until he finally comes home again. Mispec Moor is an anagram for "Compromise." And that's where I have been, lost on the Moor.
There are 11 days left in Advent, and 18 days left before the time of new resolutions. I know at least one of my soul-friends is reading this blog and will hold me to a return to my Rule of Life. I know need to get back on the horse. If I am sincere in my devotions, then I need to reinstitute my vow, not as a chore, but as a joy, the joy of feeling that sense of oneness with others who are or have been partaking of the eucharist, including all these long gone Celtic saints whom I admire so much. Whew:
Lord, I had know I idea that when you led me to St. Judoc it would bring face to face with examining my own short-comings, my own compromises. Thank You for doing that. Instill in me, Lord, a new sense of purpose and joy as I lay aside "expectations" and follow Your will.
Amen.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
St Finnian: a link to the Desert Fathers/Mothers
St Finnian of Clonard December 12th 28th day of Celtic Advent
St Finnian, unlike some of the saints I have been blogging about, was not obscure, but a very well known and venerated saint from Ireland from the mid-400's to the early 500's. His early life reads like a listing of many of prime elements seen in Celtic Christian theology. He decides at an early age to give up the comforts of home and devote himself to Christ. He goes on a "green martyrdom"/pilgrimage to France, Wales and eventually back to Ireland where he sets up both a small hermitage and a church in Clonard. At that site he becomes a sought after teacher and spiritual mentor, and is credited as the educator of the twelve "apostles" of Ireland (see my entry on Brendan of Birr, November 29th, as one of these). He set up other clusters of hermitage-like monasteries including the famous one on the island of Skellig Michael. He has a strong ascetic lifestyle and writes about techniques for resisting sin in the "Finnian Penitentials." He died of the plague in 549 AD.
I find it fascinating to read about the other Christian saints that Finnian encountered on his journeys. He seems in his early life to be on a spiritual education mission, picking the brains of many of the great spiritual leaders of the times before he goes on to become an educator himself. In Ireland, he spends time with St. Brigid, in Wales he is taught by St. Cadoc, and, most interesting for me, while in France, he seeks out St. Martin of Tours for advice and instruction.
St. Martin, a soldier turned monastic (another recent theme!), studied under St. Hilary of Poitiers, one of the early church fathers and was highly influenced by the teachings of one of my favorite groups of monastics besides the Celts: the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the 4th through 6th century in Palestine, Egypt and Syria. Many of the Celtic monastics seemed to flock to St. Martin's for instruction. It is speculated that this accounts for not only some of the Eastern Orthodox tendencies of the Celts, like their dating of Easter, but the marked similarity between their monastic, ascetic, non-hierarchical lifestyle and that of the Desert Fathers/Mothers. Another interesting factoid is that the Feast of St Martin, November 11th, was used by the Celts as the final day before a 40 day period of fasting...hence Celtic Advent.
Finnian's lifestyle, settling down in a hermit-like ascetism and then being sought out as a teacher, reads like the life of one of the main Desert Fathers, St. Anthony. "The Finnian Penitentials" are remarkably like the Institutes of John Cassian, who went to live with Desert Fathers, writing down about their teachings related to the 8 (not 7) major sins. Cassian's works have recently come more to light through the work of Sister Mary Margaret Funk and her "Matters" series.
For myself personally, in my own quest in Christian Spirituality, I have often been drawn to keep going back to early Christian lifestyles and teachings. When Christianity became "in" after Constantine legalized it, it was the Desert Fathers and Mothers who seemed to me to have a life-style that was truer to the apostolic teachers as a opposed to the increasing aristocratic like structure of the main church. When the Desert monastics all but disappeared with the spread of Islam across Egypt and Syria, I always felt like the "torch" of the more original Christian lifestyle passed on to the Celts, like Finnian, who had learned from Martin.
I really wonder if the resurgence of interest in both groups, the Desert monastics and the Celts, that is going on currently, isn't a cry out to again return to a style of Christianity that seems to have been overshadowed in the 20th century by mega-churches and tele-evangelism.
I hope the trend continues.
Lord, thank you for Saints like Finnian, who search for meaning by seeking out other spiritual teachers, and then become teachers themselves. Help our modern churches to follow that same quest, to worry less about structure and finances and more about being true to Your original teachings. In Thy name, Amen.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
December 11th St Cian Soldier turned monastic
December 11th St Cian 13 days left in Advent
St. Cian is a 6th century saint from Northern Wales. There is not a lot written in detail about him and what there is seems to have discrepancies about who he was. He is described as a hermit, who at some point was the servant of St. Peris, another semi-obscure Welsh saint. There is another source that says he was a Bard, or formal court poet, known as Cian Gweinth Gwant, whom the 9th century historian Nennius lists as chief among the five Welsh bards. This would put him in the group that includes Anieren and Taliesen--if you are into early medieval welsh bard trivia, this is elite company.
He has a church dedicated to him at Llangian in Gwynedd, Wales, where Cian supposedly settled. The church grounds have a famous megalithic grave stone which is rare in that it has a Latin name of the grave inhabitant which includes a profession: Melus the Doctor, son of Martinus. It is estimated to be from the 5th century, so it would predate Cian.
There is another source that lists him as a soldier who turned into a monk/hermit. This inspired an Orthodox Troparion:
"Renouncing thy warlike ways, O Father Cian, thou didst engage in thy fiercest fight with the powers of darkness. Pray, we beseech thee, that our spiritual struggles may be pleasing to Christ our God, that He will show us great mercy."
When I read about these Celtic saints, I sometimes find myself drawn to a particular phrase about them, almost like when one is doing lectio divina (google that if you aren't sure what it is).
It was the "soldier turned monastic" of Cian that struck me and got my mind going off in different directions.
6th Century Wales was a time when many of the "Saints" were former soldiers. The main part of Britain had been lost to the Anglo-Saxons. Any major war effort to recover those lands was over. Borders, with persistant skirmishes, had developed where modern Wales and England meet. Soldiers, used to a regimented life, and a submission to a higher authority, often found a comfortable familiarity in the lifestyle of a monastery under an abbot.
Beyond 6th century Wales, there are stories through the centuries of soldiers who turned to the priesthood or to religious orders. One of my favorite in fiction is that of Brother Cadfael, a series of mystery novels written by Edith Pargeter (under the pseudonym of Ellis Peters). In the stories, it is Cadfael's wordly experience prior to choosing the monastic life which often makes him more sympathetic to the plight's of other characters. Other monks who don't have his background are sometimes portrayed as rigid and "holier-than-thou."
Perhaps my favorite historical converted soldier is St. Ignatius of Loyola. A Basque by birth, he had a conversion experience while recovering from war wounds. Inspired by his biblical readings during this period, he went on to found the Society of Jesus, or Jesuits. Without that inspiration on his part we would not have many remarkable institutions of higher learning (anything with Loyola in it's name). There would be no St Francis Xavier who went on to preach in the Far East. We would not have Ignation reading, a wonderful way to meditate on scripture. Any we wouldn't have our current pope, a Jesuit, of whom I am major fan. Besides, he non-latinized Basque name would have been "Inigo," and movie-buffs will know where my brain is going with that one.
When I think about it, one of the things I like about most of the Celtic saints in general are the qualities of "life experience" used in the service of Christ that is seen in Cian, Ignatius and the fictional Cadfael. Many of them had children and spouses. Patrick was a slave in Ireland prior to returning as an evangelist. The late medieval European practice of non-essential high-born children being promised to a church career didn't really exist in this early Celtic society. The decision to devote one's life was personal and sincere.
I think this is what I hope for many of the new younger followers of Christ that I run into. In the late 50's and early 60's in the area where I grew up, Church going was an expected part of society. You went to Sunday school and the youth group because everyone did it. There was little decision making quality about it. It was the expected thing. Although at one level I worry about our post-Christian, post-Christian American society, I also wonder if our current society doesn't create an opportunity for a more sincere Christian experience, a devotion by choice rather than societal expectation. We shall see.
Lord, thank you for saints like Cian, who brought their life experience with them into their decision to follow You. Help Your Church, Lord, to grow with people like Cian, people with a personal devotion, with sincerity, who like the early Celts, were on fire with love for You and Your way. In Thy name, Amen.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
St Deiniol--musings on original sin
December 10th St. Deiniol...26th day of Celtic Advent
St. Deiniol, or Daniel, from the 6th Century, was originally from the Celtic Kingdom now referred to as Strathclyde in Northern Britain--He is sometimes referred to as Deiniol Wyn, the blessed. Having been defeated by the Northumbrian Saxons, Deiniol's grandfather, Pabo, took the entire family to Northern Wales where Deiniol was raised. His father, Dunawd was an abbot, his 2 brothers are mentioned as saints, Cynwl and Gwarthan, as is his son Deiniolen.
Deiniol is credited with founding several churches and monastaries the most important being that of Bangor in Northern Wales, which was eventually raised to an episcopal see, with Deiniol as its first bishop. There are some interesting aspects to this. A poem about Deiniol talks about him being made a bishop despite the inadequacy of his education. There is also a story related to Deiniol and the Synod of Brefi in 545 AD. This meeting of Welsh religious leaders was convened for one of 2 reasons, either to make a decision on the teachings of Pelagius (more later) or to work out what was considered too harsh a dictum on penitential punishment--scholars disagree on this. St. Dyffig wanted to have St. David at the Synod, but the latter refused to come. Dyffig sent Deiniol as an emissary to convince David to change his mind--which Deiniol did. David apparently spoke very eloquently at the Synod, but also decided to consecrate Deiniol as Bishop of Bangor during the same period.
Deiniol apparently had a cult following in Northern Wales for some centuries. There are stories of his rescuing stolen plough horses by forcing the theives to lose their muscle strength and to lay on the ground like stones, and another interesting story of his curing a local woman who was coughing up worms!
Like many Welsh of the time, he apparently also spent a period of his life in Brittany were several churches were dedicated to him.
Which leads us to Pelagius--if indeed he was the subject of the same Synod that Deiniol was so involved in. Pelagius is famous, or infamous, as the opponent of St. Augustine on the subjects of original sin and predestination. Although from Britain, he spent most of his time in the Rome, eventually dying in Egypt. It has become very popular in modern Celtic Christian circles to espouse Pelagius as someone whose views were distorted during his debates with Augustine, and that he was just being true to a tenet of Celtic Christianity related to the basic goodness of creation. The idea of original sin (whether inherent in our DNA, or caused by Adam's fall--depending on your views) is often not popular with modern thinking. The theological difficulty is, of course, that if we don't have some inherent tendency to "screw up" or "miss the mark" (the latter being the translation of the Greek word for sin), then why do we need Christ?
This tendency for a modern view of Pelagius as the wrongfully accused son of Britain is portrayed in the recent movie "King Arthur," with Clive Owen. In the film, Arthur laments the fate of Pelagius, who was supposedly executed (not true), and with whom Arthur had a kind of tutor-student relationship (not possible given the distance of time between when they lived).
I personally prefer the position of the Orthodox Church, which has Celtic branches, related to Pelagius. The Orthodox do not elevate Augustine to the same position as the church in the West does. Original sin is still considered a valid doctrine, but Augustine's argument for predestination is considered totally invalid...that we are creatures of free will. This latter is indeed something that would have been an important aspect of early Celtic Christianity.
I seem to have gotten much more theological in my musing this morning that I usually do, but then I have to remember, that, in preparing for Advent, I should be doing more than just talking about Celtic Saints, even though I love doing that. Perhaps what I needed today was for a Saint like Deiniol to lead me to thinking about Pelagius, and that doctrine on sin. In roughly 2 weeks we will celebrate the birth of the Christ, the coming into the world of the divine light that guides us past our own inadequacies, past our own tendencies to constantly put self first, to think more highly of ourselves than we should. I know I am guilty of those short-comings. I still think creation was created as "good," and that Augustine was a little over the top, but I also know that I cannot depend on my own prowess, my own skills, to get me in line with what God wants for me. I need the light of Christ, and it is coming. So....
Thank you Lord, for St. Deiniol. There is a lot about his life that I could use as a focus of meditation. But in preparation for Advent, You have used his life to lead me recognize, once again, my dependence on You, and that I cannot do it alone. Through Your Son and the Divine Spirit, Amen.
St. Deiniol, or Daniel, from the 6th Century, was originally from the Celtic Kingdom now referred to as Strathclyde in Northern Britain--He is sometimes referred to as Deiniol Wyn, the blessed. Having been defeated by the Northumbrian Saxons, Deiniol's grandfather, Pabo, took the entire family to Northern Wales where Deiniol was raised. His father, Dunawd was an abbot, his 2 brothers are mentioned as saints, Cynwl and Gwarthan, as is his son Deiniolen.
Deiniol is credited with founding several churches and monastaries the most important being that of Bangor in Northern Wales, which was eventually raised to an episcopal see, with Deiniol as its first bishop. There are some interesting aspects to this. A poem about Deiniol talks about him being made a bishop despite the inadequacy of his education. There is also a story related to Deiniol and the Synod of Brefi in 545 AD. This meeting of Welsh religious leaders was convened for one of 2 reasons, either to make a decision on the teachings of Pelagius (more later) or to work out what was considered too harsh a dictum on penitential punishment--scholars disagree on this. St. Dyffig wanted to have St. David at the Synod, but the latter refused to come. Dyffig sent Deiniol as an emissary to convince David to change his mind--which Deiniol did. David apparently spoke very eloquently at the Synod, but also decided to consecrate Deiniol as Bishop of Bangor during the same period.
Deiniol apparently had a cult following in Northern Wales for some centuries. There are stories of his rescuing stolen plough horses by forcing the theives to lose their muscle strength and to lay on the ground like stones, and another interesting story of his curing a local woman who was coughing up worms!
Like many Welsh of the time, he apparently also spent a period of his life in Brittany were several churches were dedicated to him.
Which leads us to Pelagius--if indeed he was the subject of the same Synod that Deiniol was so involved in. Pelagius is famous, or infamous, as the opponent of St. Augustine on the subjects of original sin and predestination. Although from Britain, he spent most of his time in the Rome, eventually dying in Egypt. It has become very popular in modern Celtic Christian circles to espouse Pelagius as someone whose views were distorted during his debates with Augustine, and that he was just being true to a tenet of Celtic Christianity related to the basic goodness of creation. The idea of original sin (whether inherent in our DNA, or caused by Adam's fall--depending on your views) is often not popular with modern thinking. The theological difficulty is, of course, that if we don't have some inherent tendency to "screw up" or "miss the mark" (the latter being the translation of the Greek word for sin), then why do we need Christ?
This tendency for a modern view of Pelagius as the wrongfully accused son of Britain is portrayed in the recent movie "King Arthur," with Clive Owen. In the film, Arthur laments the fate of Pelagius, who was supposedly executed (not true), and with whom Arthur had a kind of tutor-student relationship (not possible given the distance of time between when they lived).
I personally prefer the position of the Orthodox Church, which has Celtic branches, related to Pelagius. The Orthodox do not elevate Augustine to the same position as the church in the West does. Original sin is still considered a valid doctrine, but Augustine's argument for predestination is considered totally invalid...that we are creatures of free will. This latter is indeed something that would have been an important aspect of early Celtic Christianity.
I seem to have gotten much more theological in my musing this morning that I usually do, but then I have to remember, that, in preparing for Advent, I should be doing more than just talking about Celtic Saints, even though I love doing that. Perhaps what I needed today was for a Saint like Deiniol to lead me to thinking about Pelagius, and that doctrine on sin. In roughly 2 weeks we will celebrate the birth of the Christ, the coming into the world of the divine light that guides us past our own inadequacies, past our own tendencies to constantly put self first, to think more highly of ourselves than we should. I know I am guilty of those short-comings. I still think creation was created as "good," and that Augustine was a little over the top, but I also know that I cannot depend on my own prowess, my own skills, to get me in line with what God wants for me. I need the light of Christ, and it is coming. So....
Thank you Lord, for St. Deiniol. There is a lot about his life that I could use as a focus of meditation. But in preparation for Advent, You have used his life to lead me recognize, once again, my dependence on You, and that I cannot do it alone. Through Your Son and the Divine Spirit, Amen.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Day 25 of Celtic Advent: St. Budoc and thought about the sea
December 9th St. Budoc
St Budoc is celebrated in both Brittany and Cornwall--his feast day in the former is today, so I am going with that. He was from a royal family around Brest. Like several Celtic saints, his birth history has an unusual "cast into the sea" quality about it.
His mother, Azenor, when pregnant with Budoc, was accused by her step-mother of infidelity. The outraged husband, had his wife put into a barrel and thrown out into the ocean. While in the barrel, Azenor went into labor. Fortunately, the spirit of St. Brigid of Kildare came to comfort and guide her through the labor, then piloted the barrel to the coast of Ireland where Budoc was educated near Waterford. When the step-mother was on her death bed, she recanted her fiction about Azenor, which allowed Budoc and his mother to return to Britanny. He became an abbott and evenutally bishop of Dol, where he is buried.
Sometime around 480 AD, a group of monks, either sent or led by Budoc, crossed the channel in an open boat sailing up the river Tamar in Cornwall and began establishing churches in that region over which Budoc continued to provide pastoral care.
The above stories made me start thinking about the sea. The Celts had an interesting relationship with the sea. It provided food, yet it was wild and dangerous. It was the only avenue of travel between the dispersed nations of the Celtic world. Then I began thinking about the prayers related to the sea in the Carmina Gadelica.
One of the wonderful aspects of the Celtic revival which began in the late 1800's was the work of Alexander Carmichael. A native Gaelic speaker, Carmichael travelled through the Gaelic speaking areas of the Western Scottish Islands, collecting sayings, songs, stories and prayers, which he translated and copied down into English...this was published gradually in 5 volumes, ending in 1976 (long after Carmichael's death) as the Carmina Gadalica, or Song of the Gael. Many modern students of Celtic Christianity, such as Esther de Waal or Raymond Simpson, see the songs and poetry in particular as a link to the mind-set of the Celts of the early Medieval times. Here is one example:
"O THOU who pervadest the heights,
Imprint on us Thy gracious blessing,
Carry us over the surface of the sea,
Carry us safely to a haven of peace,
Bless our boatmen and our boat,
Bless our anchors and our oars,
Each stay and halyard and traveller,
Our mainsails to our tall masts
Keep, O King of the elements, in their place
That we may return home in peace;
I myself will sit down at the helm,
It is God's own Son who will give me guidance,
As He gave to Columba the mild
What time he set stay to sails.
Mary, Bride, Michael, Paul,
Peter, Gabriel, John of love,
Pour ye down from above the dew
That would make our faith to grow,
Establish ye us in the Rock of rocks,
In every law that love exhibits,
That we may reach the land of glory,
Where peace and love and mercy reign,
All vouchsafed to us through grace;
Never shall the canker worm get near us,
We shall there be safe for ever,
We shall not be in the bonds of death
Though we are of the seed of Adam.
On the Feast Day of Michael, the Feast Day of Martin,
The Feast Day of Andrew, band of mercy,
The Feast Day of Bride, day of my choice,
Cast ye the serpent into the ocean,
So that the sea may swallow her up;
On the Feast Day of Patrick, day of power,
Reveal to us the storm from the north,
Quell its wrath and blunt its fury,
Lessen its fierceness, kill its cold.
On the Day of the Three Kings on high,
Subdue to us the crest of the waves,
On Beltane Day give us the dew,
On John's Day the gentle wind,
The Day of Mary the great of fame,
Ward off us the storm from the west;
Each day and night, storm and calm,
Be Thou with us, O Chief of chiefs,
Be Thou Thyself to us a compass-chart,
Be Thine hand on the helm of our rudder,
Thine own hand, Thou God of the elements,
Early and late as is becoming,
Early and late as is becoming."
In a prayer like this, there is a strong sense of the presence of the saints, both Biblical (John, Peter, Paul) and Celtic (Columba and Bride, the latter being another name for Brigid.) And there is an overwhelming sense of God's omnipresence and power. The mention of Brigid particularly tied in for me the story of Budoc, with Brigid coming to be midwife to Azenor. The Celt's had a strong sense of the power of the Saints to bypass space and time, sent by God to be with us as fellow pilgrims in our trials and journies.
There is no sea near me in the area just east of the Rockies, but I know that at one point in time it was one large sea bed across this area and the Great Plains. And, today, as most recent days, I have to drive...this time across frozen sheets of ice and snow. There is a tendency to be anxious and apprehensive. So...like Budoc and his mother...I am going to trust today in God and his Saints.
Lord as I travel today, out across the frozen waters, the moisture we need so much, send for my help the spirits of the Celtic saints, Brigid to calm me, Columba to guide me, and the patience and trust of Budoc to inspire me. And be Thou my "compass-chart", the hands upon my wheel..."early and late as becoming...early and late as becoming." Amen.
St Budoc is celebrated in both Brittany and Cornwall--his feast day in the former is today, so I am going with that. He was from a royal family around Brest. Like several Celtic saints, his birth history has an unusual "cast into the sea" quality about it.
His mother, Azenor, when pregnant with Budoc, was accused by her step-mother of infidelity. The outraged husband, had his wife put into a barrel and thrown out into the ocean. While in the barrel, Azenor went into labor. Fortunately, the spirit of St. Brigid of Kildare came to comfort and guide her through the labor, then piloted the barrel to the coast of Ireland where Budoc was educated near Waterford. When the step-mother was on her death bed, she recanted her fiction about Azenor, which allowed Budoc and his mother to return to Britanny. He became an abbott and evenutally bishop of Dol, where he is buried.
Sometime around 480 AD, a group of monks, either sent or led by Budoc, crossed the channel in an open boat sailing up the river Tamar in Cornwall and began establishing churches in that region over which Budoc continued to provide pastoral care.
The above stories made me start thinking about the sea. The Celts had an interesting relationship with the sea. It provided food, yet it was wild and dangerous. It was the only avenue of travel between the dispersed nations of the Celtic world. Then I began thinking about the prayers related to the sea in the Carmina Gadelica.
One of the wonderful aspects of the Celtic revival which began in the late 1800's was the work of Alexander Carmichael. A native Gaelic speaker, Carmichael travelled through the Gaelic speaking areas of the Western Scottish Islands, collecting sayings, songs, stories and prayers, which he translated and copied down into English...this was published gradually in 5 volumes, ending in 1976 (long after Carmichael's death) as the Carmina Gadalica, or Song of the Gael. Many modern students of Celtic Christianity, such as Esther de Waal or Raymond Simpson, see the songs and poetry in particular as a link to the mind-set of the Celts of the early Medieval times. Here is one example:
"O THOU who pervadest the heights,
Imprint on us Thy gracious blessing,
Carry us over the surface of the sea,
Carry us safely to a haven of peace,
Bless our boatmen and our boat,
Bless our anchors and our oars,
Each stay and halyard and traveller,
Our mainsails to our tall masts
Keep, O King of the elements, in their place
That we may return home in peace;
I myself will sit down at the helm,
It is God's own Son who will give me guidance,
As He gave to Columba the mild
What time he set stay to sails.
Mary, Bride, Michael, Paul,
Peter, Gabriel, John of love,
Pour ye down from above the dew
That would make our faith to grow,
Establish ye us in the Rock of rocks,
In every law that love exhibits,
That we may reach the land of glory,
Where peace and love and mercy reign,
All vouchsafed to us through grace;
Never shall the canker worm get near us,
We shall there be safe for ever,
We shall not be in the bonds of death
Though we are of the seed of Adam.
On the Feast Day of Michael, the Feast Day of Martin,
The Feast Day of Andrew, band of mercy,
The Feast Day of Bride, day of my choice,
Cast ye the serpent into the ocean,
So that the sea may swallow her up;
On the Feast Day of Patrick, day of power,
Reveal to us the storm from the north,
Quell its wrath and blunt its fury,
Lessen its fierceness, kill its cold.
On the Day of the Three Kings on high,
Subdue to us the crest of the waves,
On Beltane Day give us the dew,
On John's Day the gentle wind,
The Day of Mary the great of fame,
Ward off us the storm from the west;
Each day and night, storm and calm,
Be Thou with us, O Chief of chiefs,
Be Thou Thyself to us a compass-chart,
Be Thine hand on the helm of our rudder,
Thine own hand, Thou God of the elements,
Early and late as is becoming,
Early and late as is becoming."
In a prayer like this, there is a strong sense of the presence of the saints, both Biblical (John, Peter, Paul) and Celtic (Columba and Bride, the latter being another name for Brigid.) And there is an overwhelming sense of God's omnipresence and power. The mention of Brigid particularly tied in for me the story of Budoc, with Brigid coming to be midwife to Azenor. The Celt's had a strong sense of the power of the Saints to bypass space and time, sent by God to be with us as fellow pilgrims in our trials and journies.
There is no sea near me in the area just east of the Rockies, but I know that at one point in time it was one large sea bed across this area and the Great Plains. And, today, as most recent days, I have to drive...this time across frozen sheets of ice and snow. There is a tendency to be anxious and apprehensive. So...like Budoc and his mother...I am going to trust today in God and his Saints.
Lord as I travel today, out across the frozen waters, the moisture we need so much, send for my help the spirits of the Celtic saints, Brigid to calm me, Columba to guide me, and the patience and trust of Budoc to inspire me. And be Thou my "compass-chart", the hands upon my wheel..."early and late as becoming...early and late as becoming." Amen.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Day 24 of Celtic Advent: St Cynidr of Wales
December 8th St Cynidr of Wales
St Cynidr, who is also known as Keneder, lived in the early to mid 6th century in Wales. He is somewhat overshadowed by his more famous brother, St. Cadoc. Cynidr is listed by Sabine Baring-Gould in his Lives of the British Saints as a Confessor who spent most of his time in the area around Glasbury in East Central Wales, Powys. There were originally several churches names after him in the area, but this area was the "Marches," the border areas the kept passing between the Welsh and English. Apparently it was a not uncommon practice for the English to re-dedicate churches who were originally named for Welsh saints and have them named after a less national saint. This happened to all of St. Cynidr's churches which were renamed either after the Virgin Mary, or St. Peter.
There is one story related to Cynidr and his brother Cadoc that bears repeating. Cadoc has granted church sanctuary to one Llyngesog the Longhand, who had apparently killed three retainers from the court of King Arthur. Arthur demanded that Cadoc hand over the culprit, who had been kept past the usual time of sanctuary. Cadoc sent Cynidr to handle the negotations which were carried out by the different parties across a stream, and after a fair amout of difficulties, resulting in a compensatory payment to Arthur.
A couple of things stand out for me with Cynidr. One was his title of Confessor. This, in the very early church was an indication of someone who was martyed for the faith, but as Christianity became more of the dominant religion in Europe this changed. New Advent lists the later definition as follows:
"After the middle of the fourth century we find confessor used to designate those men of remarkable virtue and knowledge who confessed the Faith of Christ before the world by the practice of the most heroic virtue, by their writings and preachings..."
This is a somewhat comforting view for me--which may seem odd. Up until reading this definition, I had a sense that to be considered a "confessor" you had to be out actively grabbing people at the mall or some other public place and asking them if they had met Jesus yet. I know some churches that send their teen groups to do just that, and, to be honest, it seems superficial. I don't pretend to have "heroic virtue," but this Celtic advent blog is my foray into making more public my beliefs and way of life. I will leave the mall conversion efforts to people who can be more extroverted in their faith than I can.
The other aspect of Cynidr that struck me is that he must have had some diplomatic skills, and ability to calm down people on opposite sides of an argument, otherwise Cadoc would not have chosen him to go meet with Arthur. There is a sense in several of the very early Arthurian Welsh stories of a lack of harmony between the Church and the British War leader. The earliest history of the British, that of St. Gildas, does not mention Arthur by name, even though Gildas does elaborate on the major victories of the British over the Anglo-Saxons. He does, however, rant at some length about the lack of spiritual conviction on the part of the British political leaders of the times. If there was truly was "no love lost" between the Church and the British war force, it would have taken someone with a fair amount of skill to settle a disagreement.
This makes me think of the early church and St. Paul...who spends a fair amount of time negotiating harmony between those people who think you have to be fully Jewish, including circumcision and diet, betore you can become Christian, and those who think that no aspect of the Jewish faith is necessary. To bring peace and harmony to a divisive situation is obviously a very early Christian form of mnistry.
So, as with many other of these early Celtic saints, I know a limited amount about their life details, but can surmise aspects of their character...and it is that that I wish to emulate:
Lord, your servant Cynidr helped spread and maintain faith in You through his skills at being a confessor and by working for harmony during times of disagreement. Help me to hone these same skills, that I may walk my talk, and be a source of Your light to others. In the name of Thy Son and of the Spirit, Amen.
St Cynidr, who is also known as Keneder, lived in the early to mid 6th century in Wales. He is somewhat overshadowed by his more famous brother, St. Cadoc. Cynidr is listed by Sabine Baring-Gould in his Lives of the British Saints as a Confessor who spent most of his time in the area around Glasbury in East Central Wales, Powys. There were originally several churches names after him in the area, but this area was the "Marches," the border areas the kept passing between the Welsh and English. Apparently it was a not uncommon practice for the English to re-dedicate churches who were originally named for Welsh saints and have them named after a less national saint. This happened to all of St. Cynidr's churches which were renamed either after the Virgin Mary, or St. Peter.
There is one story related to Cynidr and his brother Cadoc that bears repeating. Cadoc has granted church sanctuary to one Llyngesog the Longhand, who had apparently killed three retainers from the court of King Arthur. Arthur demanded that Cadoc hand over the culprit, who had been kept past the usual time of sanctuary. Cadoc sent Cynidr to handle the negotations which were carried out by the different parties across a stream, and after a fair amout of difficulties, resulting in a compensatory payment to Arthur.
A couple of things stand out for me with Cynidr. One was his title of Confessor. This, in the very early church was an indication of someone who was martyed for the faith, but as Christianity became more of the dominant religion in Europe this changed. New Advent lists the later definition as follows:
"After the middle of the fourth century we find confessor used to designate those men of remarkable virtue and knowledge who confessed the Faith of Christ before the world by the practice of the most heroic virtue, by their writings and preachings..."
This is a somewhat comforting view for me--which may seem odd. Up until reading this definition, I had a sense that to be considered a "confessor" you had to be out actively grabbing people at the mall or some other public place and asking them if they had met Jesus yet. I know some churches that send their teen groups to do just that, and, to be honest, it seems superficial. I don't pretend to have "heroic virtue," but this Celtic advent blog is my foray into making more public my beliefs and way of life. I will leave the mall conversion efforts to people who can be more extroverted in their faith than I can.
The other aspect of Cynidr that struck me is that he must have had some diplomatic skills, and ability to calm down people on opposite sides of an argument, otherwise Cadoc would not have chosen him to go meet with Arthur. There is a sense in several of the very early Arthurian Welsh stories of a lack of harmony between the Church and the British War leader. The earliest history of the British, that of St. Gildas, does not mention Arthur by name, even though Gildas does elaborate on the major victories of the British over the Anglo-Saxons. He does, however, rant at some length about the lack of spiritual conviction on the part of the British political leaders of the times. If there was truly was "no love lost" between the Church and the British war force, it would have taken someone with a fair amount of skill to settle a disagreement.
This makes me think of the early church and St. Paul...who spends a fair amount of time negotiating harmony between those people who think you have to be fully Jewish, including circumcision and diet, betore you can become Christian, and those who think that no aspect of the Jewish faith is necessary. To bring peace and harmony to a divisive situation is obviously a very early Christian form of mnistry.
So, as with many other of these early Celtic saints, I know a limited amount about their life details, but can surmise aspects of their character...and it is that that I wish to emulate:
Lord, your servant Cynidr helped spread and maintain faith in You through his skills at being a confessor and by working for harmony during times of disagreement. Help me to hone these same skills, that I may walk my talk, and be a source of Your light to others. In the name of Thy Son and of the Spirit, Amen.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
December 7th St Diuma--entering enemy territory
December 7th St Diuma
December 7th has 2 major entries in the Celtic and Old English Saints on-line listing: http://www.celticsaints.org/2013/ I was all set to write about St. Biuthe, as I wanted an excuse to write about the large stone Celtic crosses that dot Ireland, the most talked about being from the monastery founded by Biuthe in county Louth. But for some reason, as I started to look into today more, I was led back to the other Saint: Diuma.
Diuma was from the mid 7th century. His name is Irish, so one must assume he was either from Ireland or from the Scots-Irish area around Iona. He was a monk at Lindisfarne in Northumbria, the abbey founded by St. Aidan. Diuma was selected by Abbot Finan, along with Cedd, Betti and Adda for mission to the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Mercia, whose King had recently converted from paganism to Christianity. He became the first bishop of Mercia.
Reverend Canon Kate Tristram of Lindisarne has a wonderful subsection of the Lindifarne website dedicated to "Little Known Saints of the North." Here is a section from here musings about Diuma:
"We are told nothing about Diuma's character, but we can guess quite a lot. Obviously he was well-trained in the Irish tradition of a strongly disciplined ascetic life, and obviously capable of adapting to new people and situations. There must have been something very attractive about his way of preaching the gospel,for Bede says that he and his companions 'were listened to gladly'." More at: http://www.lindisfarne.org.uk/canon-tristram
There is not a whole lot more known about Diuma, other than he died and was buried in Mercia in the year 658. So why did I get drawn to talk about him? The answer requires me to talk a little about the Kingdom of Mercia.
Unless someone is from England, which I am not, and had to learn about English history in school, the only way a person might know about Mercia is if you are cursed with an insatiable curiosity about history trivia and connections between one set of trivia and another...I have this curse. For several hundred years, Mercia was the bully of England. It kept gradually aborbing other Kingdoms until it controlled pretty much everything except Wales, Cornwall and the area north of Humber river: Northumbria. The Northumbrians were not terribly fond of Merica or their King, Penda (this was not the one who converted to Chritianity.) One of David Adam's remarkable books, Flame in my Heart, St Aidan for Today, opens with his discussion how as a school boy in Northumbria he learned about the wonderful victory of the Northumbrians over the Mercians and Welsh at the battle of Heavenfield. The memory of the emnity obviously did not fade away!
Penda is decribed by Bede as the most warlike of the Mercian royalty and "diabolical." He ravaged the Northumbrian countryside in his battles, burned churches, and killed a royal Northumbrian hostage who was under his "protection"--something that would have been anaethema in that time period.
(On a total trivia side note: Mercia had it's own linguistic variation of Old English. It was studied extensively in the early 20th Century by one of Oxford's leading professors, a certain John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Tolkien later look the name of one of his main characters, Eomer of Rohan, from a listing of Mercian Royalty. Another name for Rohan in his books is "The Mark," a derivation of Mercia.)
So...when the major Church in Northumbria sends missionaries to Mercia, this is not a casual decision. They are sending their brethren into the countryside of their most detested enemy. Granted Diuma was likely not Northumbrian by birth, (although Cedd was), but I suspect he would have been sympathetic with Northumbrians and Celts alike who would have lost their lives and property under the devastation reaked by King Penda. This would be somewhat akin to a modern Christian missionary who had lost family in 911, setting out to go towns in the Middle East that were known to have a strong Al-Queda sentiment.
The Celtic church had people in it who were quick to anger...that seems to be a part of the Gaelic disposition. But it also seemed to have a strong sense of Christ's admonitions to Love thine Enemy. We here that phrase quoted a lot from scripture, but how little we really seem to apply it to life. After 911 it seemed to me that it was some of the most purportedly Christian areas of our nation (I am thinking of the home state of the President at that time) had "Christian" leaders wanting to nuke the areas that were speculated to have harbored the terrorists. My own priest had the Grace to suggest that we should pray for the souls, not only of the victims, but of the mis-quided pilots of the aircraft that hit the towers...his suggestion was not well received by many members of the congregation...it was too hurtful, too difficult to think of "those people" as anything other than the hated enemy.
So...just as I have a great measure of respect for my priest's suggestion at that time...so I have a great deal of respect for not only Diuma, but the people in Lindisfarne who sent out the delegation to Mercia in the first place. It showed courage, love and and an orthodox interpretation of Christ's dictum that is sometime not as apparent as it should be in our modern church.
Lord, I pray today, not only for my own tendencies to sometimes harbor grudges or enmity, but for the Church as a whole. Help me, and help the Church, to follow more closely the example and teachings of Jesus...to see our enemies as fellow human beings and as part of your creation, and to love them regardless of their actions and our differences. This is a tough one, Lord, I would love it to be something You inspire us to accept. Amen
December 7th has 2 major entries in the Celtic and Old English Saints on-line listing: http://www.celticsaints.org/2013/ I was all set to write about St. Biuthe, as I wanted an excuse to write about the large stone Celtic crosses that dot Ireland, the most talked about being from the monastery founded by Biuthe in county Louth. But for some reason, as I started to look into today more, I was led back to the other Saint: Diuma.
Diuma was from the mid 7th century. His name is Irish, so one must assume he was either from Ireland or from the Scots-Irish area around Iona. He was a monk at Lindisfarne in Northumbria, the abbey founded by St. Aidan. Diuma was selected by Abbot Finan, along with Cedd, Betti and Adda for mission to the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Mercia, whose King had recently converted from paganism to Christianity. He became the first bishop of Mercia.
Reverend Canon Kate Tristram of Lindisarne has a wonderful subsection of the Lindifarne website dedicated to "Little Known Saints of the North." Here is a section from here musings about Diuma:
"We are told nothing about Diuma's character, but we can guess quite a lot. Obviously he was well-trained in the Irish tradition of a strongly disciplined ascetic life, and obviously capable of adapting to new people and situations. There must have been something very attractive about his way of preaching the gospel,for Bede says that he and his companions 'were listened to gladly'." More at: http://www.lindisfarne.org.uk/canon-tristram
There is not a whole lot more known about Diuma, other than he died and was buried in Mercia in the year 658. So why did I get drawn to talk about him? The answer requires me to talk a little about the Kingdom of Mercia.
Unless someone is from England, which I am not, and had to learn about English history in school, the only way a person might know about Mercia is if you are cursed with an insatiable curiosity about history trivia and connections between one set of trivia and another...I have this curse. For several hundred years, Mercia was the bully of England. It kept gradually aborbing other Kingdoms until it controlled pretty much everything except Wales, Cornwall and the area north of Humber river: Northumbria. The Northumbrians were not terribly fond of Merica or their King, Penda (this was not the one who converted to Chritianity.) One of David Adam's remarkable books, Flame in my Heart, St Aidan for Today, opens with his discussion how as a school boy in Northumbria he learned about the wonderful victory of the Northumbrians over the Mercians and Welsh at the battle of Heavenfield. The memory of the emnity obviously did not fade away!
Penda is decribed by Bede as the most warlike of the Mercian royalty and "diabolical." He ravaged the Northumbrian countryside in his battles, burned churches, and killed a royal Northumbrian hostage who was under his "protection"--something that would have been anaethema in that time period.
(On a total trivia side note: Mercia had it's own linguistic variation of Old English. It was studied extensively in the early 20th Century by one of Oxford's leading professors, a certain John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Tolkien later look the name of one of his main characters, Eomer of Rohan, from a listing of Mercian Royalty. Another name for Rohan in his books is "The Mark," a derivation of Mercia.)
So...when the major Church in Northumbria sends missionaries to Mercia, this is not a casual decision. They are sending their brethren into the countryside of their most detested enemy. Granted Diuma was likely not Northumbrian by birth, (although Cedd was), but I suspect he would have been sympathetic with Northumbrians and Celts alike who would have lost their lives and property under the devastation reaked by King Penda. This would be somewhat akin to a modern Christian missionary who had lost family in 911, setting out to go towns in the Middle East that were known to have a strong Al-Queda sentiment.
The Celtic church had people in it who were quick to anger...that seems to be a part of the Gaelic disposition. But it also seemed to have a strong sense of Christ's admonitions to Love thine Enemy. We here that phrase quoted a lot from scripture, but how little we really seem to apply it to life. After 911 it seemed to me that it was some of the most purportedly Christian areas of our nation (I am thinking of the home state of the President at that time) had "Christian" leaders wanting to nuke the areas that were speculated to have harbored the terrorists. My own priest had the Grace to suggest that we should pray for the souls, not only of the victims, but of the mis-quided pilots of the aircraft that hit the towers...his suggestion was not well received by many members of the congregation...it was too hurtful, too difficult to think of "those people" as anything other than the hated enemy.
So...just as I have a great measure of respect for my priest's suggestion at that time...so I have a great deal of respect for not only Diuma, but the people in Lindisfarne who sent out the delegation to Mercia in the first place. It showed courage, love and and an orthodox interpretation of Christ's dictum that is sometime not as apparent as it should be in our modern church.
Lord, I pray today, not only for my own tendencies to sometimes harbor grudges or enmity, but for the Church as a whole. Help me, and help the Church, to follow more closely the example and teachings of Jesus...to see our enemies as fellow human beings and as part of your creation, and to love them regardless of their actions and our differences. This is a tough one, Lord, I would love it to be something You inspire us to accept. Amen
Friday, December 6, 2013
December 6th Ordinary Saints
December 6th Celtic Advent
Saints Auxilius, Isserninus and Secundius of Ireland.
The names alone of these saints are quite a mouthful. Obviously they are Latin names, they were also known in Ireland by Gaelic names. Each of them has a separate feast day, but for some reason the Orthodox Church has lumped them together for a feast day on December 6th.
These three saints were called by Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, to help him in his continue efforts at both evangelism and organiziation. There are debates about where they were from. Some scholars think they were from northern Italy, but other stories relate that either Auxilius or Secundius or both were Patrick's nephews, which would make them British as Patrick was.
Each was created a bishop, Auxilius is associated with Kildare, Isserninus with Kilcullen and Secundius with Armagh. They died in the 5th Century after a lifetime of work in helping Patrick to create the Irish Church.
What is remarkable to me is their lack of remarkability...at least in their brief on-line biographies. There are no major or minor miracles associated with them, no grand healings, no chasing snakes out of the country. They just responded to their call in quiet, dutiful way, doing their duty for the continuance of the new church in Ireland. They weren't matryed but died quietly.
As a young attendee of Sunday school, my vision of saints was of people who were larger than life. Obviously there were the apostles and then the early Christian martyrs, but then it was people who developed a new Christian group, like St Francis, or someone who had a magnificent vision as depicted in the Song of Bernadette. As a young adult reading theology, I discovered the angst of Augustine, the poetry of John of the Cross, the discipline of Ignatius of Loyola. Among protestants I was drawn to admire the writings of Deitrich Bonhoffer and Karl Barth. These were all extraordinary people!
Yet aren't saints usually just ordinary people who respond to God's call? They are people who, like Mary, just say "yes" at the right time and place. In his letters, Paul refers to all of the members of the early church as "saints." I think of the people and professions listed in the wonderful children's hymn we sing on All Saints day: "I sing a song of the Saints of God!"
There is a danger I have certainly experienced in wanting to be too much of one of the "extraordinary" saints. I remember reading the life of a Russian saint who became so full of the emulation of Christ that he was thought to glow, as if participatiing in the Transfiguration. A part of my brain started thinking..."now wouldn't that be kind of cool." I wouldn't particularly want stigmata or to be martyred but, sure, doing a little minor faith healing...
Obviously going down that mental road is dangerous, feeding the false-ego that I feel is something that Christ wants us to give up.
Which brings me back to those three seemingly ordinary helpers of St Patrick with the funky Latin names. Aren't these the saints that I really need to emulate? Someone who just quietly goes about doing the right thing for Christ and the Church as a whole?
Lord, thank You for the example of "ordinary" saints, for people who respond to You without fanfare or glamour, who just get the work done. Help me to not only respond like these kind of saints, but to be content in doing so. In thy name, Amen.
Saints Auxilius, Isserninus and Secundius of Ireland.
The names alone of these saints are quite a mouthful. Obviously they are Latin names, they were also known in Ireland by Gaelic names. Each of them has a separate feast day, but for some reason the Orthodox Church has lumped them together for a feast day on December 6th.
These three saints were called by Patrick, patron saint of Ireland, to help him in his continue efforts at both evangelism and organiziation. There are debates about where they were from. Some scholars think they were from northern Italy, but other stories relate that either Auxilius or Secundius or both were Patrick's nephews, which would make them British as Patrick was.
Each was created a bishop, Auxilius is associated with Kildare, Isserninus with Kilcullen and Secundius with Armagh. They died in the 5th Century after a lifetime of work in helping Patrick to create the Irish Church.
What is remarkable to me is their lack of remarkability...at least in their brief on-line biographies. There are no major or minor miracles associated with them, no grand healings, no chasing snakes out of the country. They just responded to their call in quiet, dutiful way, doing their duty for the continuance of the new church in Ireland. They weren't matryed but died quietly.
As a young attendee of Sunday school, my vision of saints was of people who were larger than life. Obviously there were the apostles and then the early Christian martyrs, but then it was people who developed a new Christian group, like St Francis, or someone who had a magnificent vision as depicted in the Song of Bernadette. As a young adult reading theology, I discovered the angst of Augustine, the poetry of John of the Cross, the discipline of Ignatius of Loyola. Among protestants I was drawn to admire the writings of Deitrich Bonhoffer and Karl Barth. These were all extraordinary people!
Yet aren't saints usually just ordinary people who respond to God's call? They are people who, like Mary, just say "yes" at the right time and place. In his letters, Paul refers to all of the members of the early church as "saints." I think of the people and professions listed in the wonderful children's hymn we sing on All Saints day: "I sing a song of the Saints of God!"
There is a danger I have certainly experienced in wanting to be too much of one of the "extraordinary" saints. I remember reading the life of a Russian saint who became so full of the emulation of Christ that he was thought to glow, as if participatiing in the Transfiguration. A part of my brain started thinking..."now wouldn't that be kind of cool." I wouldn't particularly want stigmata or to be martyred but, sure, doing a little minor faith healing...
Obviously going down that mental road is dangerous, feeding the false-ego that I feel is something that Christ wants us to give up.
Which brings me back to those three seemingly ordinary helpers of St Patrick with the funky Latin names. Aren't these the saints that I really need to emulate? Someone who just quietly goes about doing the right thing for Christ and the Church as a whole?
Lord, thank You for the example of "ordinary" saints, for people who respond to You without fanfare or glamour, who just get the work done. Help me to not only respond like these kind of saints, but to be content in doing so. In thy name, Amen.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
St. Justinian of Wales, and Christian in-fighting
Celtic Advent December 5th
St. Justinian of Ramsey Island
Justinian was a 6th century saint from Brittany who immigrated to Wales, initially as a hermit on Ramsey Island off the coast of Pembrokshire. He became the soul-friend of St David, the patron saint of Wales, who convinced him to become abbot of one of the monasteries that David had founded on the mainland. Justinian became disillusioned with laxity of some of monastics there and returned again to Ramsey Island with a group of followers who shared his stricter views. At this point we get a couple of versions of a more mythologic tale of Justinian. Either three servants who are tempted by devils, or three monks who are upset with Justinian's strict rule, seek him out and cut off his head. A healing spring immediately comes up from the site of his head and/or Justinian picks up his head and crosses over Ramsey Sound to the mainland where he dies and is buried.
What fascinated me about Justinian was not the "miraculous" aspects of his violent death, but rather than underlying theme of disagreement about the Christian lifestyle, even this early in the history of Christianity. I used to have a vision of early Christians, including the Celts, as this harmonious, loving group, praying and serving the wider communities that built up around the Celtic monastaries. I knew there were disagreements about doctrines--what was the nature of the divinity versus the humanity of Christ, or what date do we use for Easter--that caused schisms in the early church, but these seemed like intellectual arguements rather than "how do we live our life as Christians."
But then I realized that there were other examples besides Justinian of the tensions between a strict ascetic lifestyle and a more lax approach. St. Francis of Assisi start his Order of Friars as a reform movement within the church, with a fairly strict interpretation of voluntary poverty as one of it's tenets. Within his own lifetime a group of his followers split off from him, thinking him too strict. In less that 200 years after Francis' death, the portrayal of a Franciscan Friar as an overindulgent glutton became a common joke. (see Chaucer for one example)
Another example, perhaps more like Justinian, is that of one of my favorites contemplatives, St. John of the Cross in 16th century Spain. John is inspired by Teresa of Avila to join the stricter reform movement of the Carmelites. He does, but is resented by the more lax group of Carmelite monks, who capture and imprison him and inflict a regimen on him of weekly whipping and deprivation (until he finally escapes).
And then of course there is Jesus...if we look at Him through the lens of his Jewish background, He is calling for major reform, a return to the a stricter vision of Judaism as outlined in Isaiah. He threatens the hierarchy, the hypocrites who bend the law in order to have a more comfortable lifestyle...and gets crucified. I realize there were other factors at work but certainly this is at least a part of what was going on.
I get frustrated with modern Christian groups and what seems like perpetual dissention and bickering. I sometimes flash to an image of Jonathon Winters in a rarely watched but funny movie called "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," where in exacberation he shouts out, "why can't we all just get along!" But then I realize that maybe that is part of the interaction between a message like Christianity and our own human tendencies.
The church will always be, to quote the early protestants, semper reformando, always in need of reform. There will always be people like Justinian, Francis or John of the Cross who see the church becoming too lax, too immersed in the ease of the culture, too "easy." They will intitate an attempt at reform, maybe sometime it is stricter than we as moderns would like, but it is always in a sincere effort to turn the church back to humbler roots. Other Christians then feel threatened, and often violence, or break-up, or both, ensues. All I can do then is trust in God's plan and pray:
Lord, You have drawn me to be a follower of Christ. You inspire me to follow His precepts and teachings as You inspired saints like Justinian. Help me to watch out for when I become too lax, or compromise too much from His example. Help me also to be patient with those who disagree with the Way that I am treading and with Christian groups in general who become frustrated with each other's views. Help me to dwell in Your love and forgiveness. In Thy name. Amen
St. Justinian of Ramsey Island
Justinian was a 6th century saint from Brittany who immigrated to Wales, initially as a hermit on Ramsey Island off the coast of Pembrokshire. He became the soul-friend of St David, the patron saint of Wales, who convinced him to become abbot of one of the monasteries that David had founded on the mainland. Justinian became disillusioned with laxity of some of monastics there and returned again to Ramsey Island with a group of followers who shared his stricter views. At this point we get a couple of versions of a more mythologic tale of Justinian. Either three servants who are tempted by devils, or three monks who are upset with Justinian's strict rule, seek him out and cut off his head. A healing spring immediately comes up from the site of his head and/or Justinian picks up his head and crosses over Ramsey Sound to the mainland where he dies and is buried.
What fascinated me about Justinian was not the "miraculous" aspects of his violent death, but rather than underlying theme of disagreement about the Christian lifestyle, even this early in the history of Christianity. I used to have a vision of early Christians, including the Celts, as this harmonious, loving group, praying and serving the wider communities that built up around the Celtic monastaries. I knew there were disagreements about doctrines--what was the nature of the divinity versus the humanity of Christ, or what date do we use for Easter--that caused schisms in the early church, but these seemed like intellectual arguements rather than "how do we live our life as Christians."
But then I realized that there were other examples besides Justinian of the tensions between a strict ascetic lifestyle and a more lax approach. St. Francis of Assisi start his Order of Friars as a reform movement within the church, with a fairly strict interpretation of voluntary poverty as one of it's tenets. Within his own lifetime a group of his followers split off from him, thinking him too strict. In less that 200 years after Francis' death, the portrayal of a Franciscan Friar as an overindulgent glutton became a common joke. (see Chaucer for one example)
Another example, perhaps more like Justinian, is that of one of my favorites contemplatives, St. John of the Cross in 16th century Spain. John is inspired by Teresa of Avila to join the stricter reform movement of the Carmelites. He does, but is resented by the more lax group of Carmelite monks, who capture and imprison him and inflict a regimen on him of weekly whipping and deprivation (until he finally escapes).
And then of course there is Jesus...if we look at Him through the lens of his Jewish background, He is calling for major reform, a return to the a stricter vision of Judaism as outlined in Isaiah. He threatens the hierarchy, the hypocrites who bend the law in order to have a more comfortable lifestyle...and gets crucified. I realize there were other factors at work but certainly this is at least a part of what was going on.
I get frustrated with modern Christian groups and what seems like perpetual dissention and bickering. I sometimes flash to an image of Jonathon Winters in a rarely watched but funny movie called "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," where in exacberation he shouts out, "why can't we all just get along!" But then I realize that maybe that is part of the interaction between a message like Christianity and our own human tendencies.
The church will always be, to quote the early protestants, semper reformando, always in need of reform. There will always be people like Justinian, Francis or John of the Cross who see the church becoming too lax, too immersed in the ease of the culture, too "easy." They will intitate an attempt at reform, maybe sometime it is stricter than we as moderns would like, but it is always in a sincere effort to turn the church back to humbler roots. Other Christians then feel threatened, and often violence, or break-up, or both, ensues. All I can do then is trust in God's plan and pray:
Lord, You have drawn me to be a follower of Christ. You inspire me to follow His precepts and teachings as You inspired saints like Justinian. Help me to watch out for when I become too lax, or compromise too much from His example. Help me also to be patient with those who disagree with the Way that I am treading and with Christian groups in general who become frustrated with each other's views. Help me to dwell in Your love and forgiveness. In Thy name. Amen
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
St. Bertoara and a Rule of Life
Celtic Advent Day 20
December 4th St Bertoara
So...I am halfway through my attempt to blog about a "saint" for each of the 40 days prior to Christmas: Celtic Advent. This is the time that in the secular world that the pace of things really starts to accelarate. Hopefully saints like Bertoara will help me with this.
I had a problem similar to what I have described in previous posts for December 4th, a paucity of Celtic Saints listed in my books or on-line. I had decided to just let the spirit guide me through general lists of saints for the date, randomly chose the name of Bertoara as it sounded a little unusual and was pleasantly surprised
Bertoara was French, from the mid 7th Century AD. Obviously an initial reaction is "why are you writing about a French person, since this is supposed to be a Celtic blog?" People who know my cinematic sense of humor won't be surprised that my own initial reaction to being led to a French saint was a vision of John Cleese calling out with a French accent from the top of a castle, "You stinking English!'
But remember, that St. Hilda--see November 17th--was Anglo-Saxon, not Celtic, yet had adopted the way of Celtic Christianity as taught by St. Aidan. And that is exactly the situation with Bertoara.
She was the founder abbess of the Notre-Dame-de Sales abbey in Bourges and is described a participating in many miracles of healing along with the local bishop, St. Austrille. The monastery at one time had upwards of 900 nuns in residence. She is also described as living under the "Rule of Columbanus."
If you recall the post from November, Columanus was the Irish monk who travelled throughout France, Switzerland and Italy, setting up monastaries as he went. One of his major centers was as Luxeuil, not too far from Bourges. Jonas of Bobbio was the earliest biographer of Columbanus and mentions the monastery of Bourges and Bertoara in the Vita Columbani. So obviously she was, like Hilda, a strong local proponent of the Celtic way. Which now leads us to the Rule of Columbanus.
Monastic groups, for the most part, were bound to together by a common sense of committent, which included a list of expectations for how they lived their lives together. The most commonly quoted Rule for monastics in modern times is the Rule of St. Benedict. There are marvelous websites and books devoted to this way of life, including daily devotions on particular aspects of the Rule. It was a mild surprise to me to find out that although Benedict's life predated that of Columbanus, that it was the Rule of the latter saint that was being used more in the European monastaries during the 7th century. You can see it in its entire content on Wikipedia in the section on Columbanus, but it consists of vows of poverty, obedience, constant fasting, and confession of sins followed by penances. Here is the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbanus if you want to read more. Benedict's rule is described by some as being slightly more lenient and became more popular.
What has been derived from both these saints is the concept making a personal Rule of life, a set of personal expectations to stay true to a spiritual commitment. Most neomonastic groups have a format for these, and, as a member of the Order of St. Aidan and Hilda, I came up with my own personal Rule several years ago. It commits me to prayer, service, non-attatchment, and several other areas of spiritual discipline. And it is during times like the commercial pre-Christmas season that I need my rule the most. Yesterday my mail box was filled with catalogues--it is awfully easy to start getting excited as I peruse them, thinking--"hmm, maybe I should ask Santa for that fancy plastic pistol that kills house flies by shooting table salt at them"...(I am not kidding-this exists). But if I turn again to my rule and life with God, then I remember my committment, not only to honor God's creation (which means not taking a perverted sense of delight in killing flies) but to avoid spending on such items in the first place.
So, thanks, Bertoara. Few people remember you. There is no church dedicated to you. But for some reason I was led to you to remind me of staying true to my rule as you were true to yours.
Lord, thank You for the joy of the pre-Christmas season, the love, the expectation of family time together. Thank You also for Your limits, Your rule of life for me, that keeps me devoted to You during times of commercial exploitation and temptation. You keep me safe in Your love. Amen
December 4th St Bertoara
So...I am halfway through my attempt to blog about a "saint" for each of the 40 days prior to Christmas: Celtic Advent. This is the time that in the secular world that the pace of things really starts to accelarate. Hopefully saints like Bertoara will help me with this.
I had a problem similar to what I have described in previous posts for December 4th, a paucity of Celtic Saints listed in my books or on-line. I had decided to just let the spirit guide me through general lists of saints for the date, randomly chose the name of Bertoara as it sounded a little unusual and was pleasantly surprised
Bertoara was French, from the mid 7th Century AD. Obviously an initial reaction is "why are you writing about a French person, since this is supposed to be a Celtic blog?" People who know my cinematic sense of humor won't be surprised that my own initial reaction to being led to a French saint was a vision of John Cleese calling out with a French accent from the top of a castle, "You stinking English!'
But remember, that St. Hilda--see November 17th--was Anglo-Saxon, not Celtic, yet had adopted the way of Celtic Christianity as taught by St. Aidan. And that is exactly the situation with Bertoara.
She was the founder abbess of the Notre-Dame-de Sales abbey in Bourges and is described a participating in many miracles of healing along with the local bishop, St. Austrille. The monastery at one time had upwards of 900 nuns in residence. She is also described as living under the "Rule of Columbanus."
If you recall the post from November, Columanus was the Irish monk who travelled throughout France, Switzerland and Italy, setting up monastaries as he went. One of his major centers was as Luxeuil, not too far from Bourges. Jonas of Bobbio was the earliest biographer of Columbanus and mentions the monastery of Bourges and Bertoara in the Vita Columbani. So obviously she was, like Hilda, a strong local proponent of the Celtic way. Which now leads us to the Rule of Columbanus.
Monastic groups, for the most part, were bound to together by a common sense of committent, which included a list of expectations for how they lived their lives together. The most commonly quoted Rule for monastics in modern times is the Rule of St. Benedict. There are marvelous websites and books devoted to this way of life, including daily devotions on particular aspects of the Rule. It was a mild surprise to me to find out that although Benedict's life predated that of Columbanus, that it was the Rule of the latter saint that was being used more in the European monastaries during the 7th century. You can see it in its entire content on Wikipedia in the section on Columbanus, but it consists of vows of poverty, obedience, constant fasting, and confession of sins followed by penances. Here is the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbanus if you want to read more. Benedict's rule is described by some as being slightly more lenient and became more popular.
What has been derived from both these saints is the concept making a personal Rule of life, a set of personal expectations to stay true to a spiritual commitment. Most neomonastic groups have a format for these, and, as a member of the Order of St. Aidan and Hilda, I came up with my own personal Rule several years ago. It commits me to prayer, service, non-attatchment, and several other areas of spiritual discipline. And it is during times like the commercial pre-Christmas season that I need my rule the most. Yesterday my mail box was filled with catalogues--it is awfully easy to start getting excited as I peruse them, thinking--"hmm, maybe I should ask Santa for that fancy plastic pistol that kills house flies by shooting table salt at them"...(I am not kidding-this exists). But if I turn again to my rule and life with God, then I remember my committment, not only to honor God's creation (which means not taking a perverted sense of delight in killing flies) but to avoid spending on such items in the first place.
So, thanks, Bertoara. Few people remember you. There is no church dedicated to you. But for some reason I was led to you to remind me of staying true to my rule as you were true to yours.
Lord, thank You for the joy of the pre-Christmas season, the love, the expectation of family time together. Thank You also for Your limits, Your rule of life for me, that keeps me devoted to You during times of commercial exploitation and temptation. You keep me safe in Your love. Amen
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
St Ethernan, Vikings, and the decline of the Celtic church
Celtic Advent December 3rd
St. Ethernan
St Ethernan was a Scottish saint from the 9th Century, also known as St. Adrian. After being sent to Ireland for his education, he appears to have alternated between times of church building and times as a solitary hermit. He is associated with the Island of May which is about 5 miles out into the Firth of Forth in Northeast Scotland. In 875 AD the Island and much of surrounding mainland fell to Viking marauders. It was said that as many as 6,000 monastics, including Ethernan, were killed and placed in a huge burial cairn on the island. Interest in Ethernan was rekindled in the 12th century when a new monastery was started with a shrine to Ethernan. This monastery was also levelled during the constant border wars between England and Scotland during which time the possession of the island became a cause for Scottish pride. Pilgrimages to the island became common until the time of Scottish reformation.
The great Celtic Christian religious period began in the 400's and reached a peak in mid to late 600's. In addition to the incursion of Roman based Christianity after the Synod of Whitby (see the post about St. Hilda from 11/17), the other major threat was the beginning of the Viking period, which began in the 800's. Attracted by the gold and silver vessels of churches and the general lack of resistance on the part of monastics, the Vikings devasted the churches in Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, the Isle of Man, Wales and Cornwall...as well as England. The Celtic church continued for a time in Ireland but gradually diminshed and then disappeared after about 1100 AD.
There is a marvelous cartoon movie about this period called "The Secret of Kells." It also outlines a purported history of one of major examples of Celtic Monastic art, the Book of Kells, currently housed at Trinity College in Dublin. The movie depicts the ever increasing threat of the Northmen and the church's attempts to protect itself and it's treasures.
When I read about things like the violent destruction of the Celtic church by the Vikings, I have a reaction that is similar to my reaction to things like the holocaust: "why?," or "how could God let this happen to these people." Obviously there is no response to this beyond faith. One can speculate with things like, " if the church hadn't started building up wealth, but kept a simple lifestyle, then the Vikings would have passed them by." But, obviously that is only speculation.
There was an resurgence in interest in Celtic Christianity in the last 1800's which has literally exploded in the last 20 years across denominational lines. There are at least 2 major neomonastic groups devoted to Celtic Christianity, and the number of books and devotionals continues to increase. Would this been possible if Celtic Christianity had continued as a main stream religious denomination? Maybe now is the time we need the infusion of the Celtic spirit, a form a renewal for the church. Obviously I am attracted personally to so many of the aspects of the Celtic Christian movement. I can only hope that others can experience the same sense of awe that I do when encounter Celtic spirituality.
Lord, I often do not comprehend your work in human history, particularly when there is death and suffering. The violent deaths during the end of the Celtic Christian period is one of these times. Help me to have faith in your ultimate plan, and help me to keep alive what these ancient Celts accomplished through devotion and study. In thy name, Amen.
St. Ethernan
St Ethernan was a Scottish saint from the 9th Century, also known as St. Adrian. After being sent to Ireland for his education, he appears to have alternated between times of church building and times as a solitary hermit. He is associated with the Island of May which is about 5 miles out into the Firth of Forth in Northeast Scotland. In 875 AD the Island and much of surrounding mainland fell to Viking marauders. It was said that as many as 6,000 monastics, including Ethernan, were killed and placed in a huge burial cairn on the island. Interest in Ethernan was rekindled in the 12th century when a new monastery was started with a shrine to Ethernan. This monastery was also levelled during the constant border wars between England and Scotland during which time the possession of the island became a cause for Scottish pride. Pilgrimages to the island became common until the time of Scottish reformation.
The great Celtic Christian religious period began in the 400's and reached a peak in mid to late 600's. In addition to the incursion of Roman based Christianity after the Synod of Whitby (see the post about St. Hilda from 11/17), the other major threat was the beginning of the Viking period, which began in the 800's. Attracted by the gold and silver vessels of churches and the general lack of resistance on the part of monastics, the Vikings devasted the churches in Scotland, Ireland, Brittany, the Isle of Man, Wales and Cornwall...as well as England. The Celtic church continued for a time in Ireland but gradually diminshed and then disappeared after about 1100 AD.
There is a marvelous cartoon movie about this period called "The Secret of Kells." It also outlines a purported history of one of major examples of Celtic Monastic art, the Book of Kells, currently housed at Trinity College in Dublin. The movie depicts the ever increasing threat of the Northmen and the church's attempts to protect itself and it's treasures.
When I read about things like the violent destruction of the Celtic church by the Vikings, I have a reaction that is similar to my reaction to things like the holocaust: "why?," or "how could God let this happen to these people." Obviously there is no response to this beyond faith. One can speculate with things like, " if the church hadn't started building up wealth, but kept a simple lifestyle, then the Vikings would have passed them by." But, obviously that is only speculation.
There was an resurgence in interest in Celtic Christianity in the last 1800's which has literally exploded in the last 20 years across denominational lines. There are at least 2 major neomonastic groups devoted to Celtic Christianity, and the number of books and devotionals continues to increase. Would this been possible if Celtic Christianity had continued as a main stream religious denomination? Maybe now is the time we need the infusion of the Celtic spirit, a form a renewal for the church. Obviously I am attracted personally to so many of the aspects of the Celtic Christian movement. I can only hope that others can experience the same sense of awe that I do when encounter Celtic spirituality.
Lord, I often do not comprehend your work in human history, particularly when there is death and suffering. The violent deaths during the end of the Celtic Christian period is one of these times. Help me to have faith in your ultimate plan, and help me to keep alive what these ancient Celts accomplished through devotion and study. In thy name, Amen.
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