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.