St Augustine of Canterbury, "Apostle of the English"

May 27th is the feast of St Augustine of Canterbury, "Apostle of the English".

I have written about his life elsewhere, and have also posted the delightful reflection by Pope St Gregory the Great on the conversion of the Angles which is prescribed for the Office of Readings for the feast.

As for St Bede (see previous post), so also for St Augustine there are some liturgical texts for Vespers, Mattins and Divine Liturgy of the Eastern Churches at Orthodox England, which could provide material for private devotion.

St Bede the Venerable

Today the Catholic Church in England observes the memoria of St Bede the Venerable. Recently the bishops of England and Wales upgraded the memorias of certain English saints to the status of feasts, and it is perhaps a little strange that Bede wasn't among their number. He is, after all, the only Englishman mentioned by Dante as being in Paradise, and the only Englishman who is officially a Doctor of the Church (St Anselm being originally an Italian).

Over recent months I've gathered together on my other blog some short extracts from Bede's voluminous writings. (Although he is now known mostly for his History of the English Church and People, in previous ages he was celebrated primarily as one of the great commentators on Scripture.)

The are some lovely liturgical prayers appropriate to the the feast (specifically, for Orthodox Vespers, Mattins, and Divine Liturgy) over at Orthodox England. These could easily be used, in whole or in part, as the basis for a novena or just for private devotion.

Saints of the British Isles and the "new evangelisation"

"The Church in the British Isles will only begin to grow when she begins to venerate her own saints again."

Arsenios of Cappadocia (thanks to Anagnostis for the correction).

St Godric of Finchale

Saturday 21st May was the feast of another great but relatively little-known English saint, St Godric of Finchale (1065-1170) – featured a long while ago on my currently dormant Saints and Blesseds blog, and reproduced below....

Godric was born at Walpole in Norfolk (England) around the year 1065. He was a peddler of some sort – a traveling salesman, indeed – whose wanderings led him to sea for a period of around sixteen years, during which time he became a part-owner of a number of vessels, one of which he went on to captain. There is, in fact, some indication that he may have been operating more or less as a pirate, and that his lifestyle was as far removed from the ways of Christian living as that of pirates generally is.

Godric’s maritime exploits brought him to the island of Lindisfarne off the Northumbrian coast, and here he became acquainted with tales of St Cuthbert, Lindisfarne’s greatest saint. Godric’s life was transformed by his encounter with Cuthbert (who, even centuries after his death, must have remained an almost tangible presence on Lindisfarne), and he experienced a profound conversion.

Ever the seafarer, his conversion of heart manifested itself in a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. In the early Middles Ages as in Late Antiquity, the idea of pilgrimage exercised a powerful hold over the imaginations of the holy, symbolizing as it did both the wanderings of the Israelites in the desert as they passed from Egypt to the Promised Land, and the wanderings of Christians exiled by sin from Paradise and living in this world as “strangers and pilgrims” en route to the New Jerusalem. Christ himself, who had “nowhere to lay his head”, was essentially a pilgrim, and pilgrimage was understood as a way of conforming oneself with Christ and of following in his footsteps.

This last aspect of following in Christ’s footsteps was one which Godric interpreted with a certain literalness. While in Jerusalem he visited the river Jordan, and, contemplating his own feet, vowed: “Lord, for love of your name, who for men’s salvation walked barefoot through the world, and did not deny to have your naked feet struck through with nails for me; from this day I shall put no shoes upon these feet”. Godric always remained faithful to this vow – even in old age (he lived to be around 100) amid the biting winters of the North East of England.

Further pilgrimages took him to Santiago de Compostella, the shrine of Saint Giles in Provence, to Rome, to Cumberland in North West England (where he obtained a copy of the Psalms which was to provide the material and inspiration for his life of prayer and contemplation), and back to Jerusalem, where he spent time working in a hospital and living with the hermits of Saint John the Baptist and worked in a hospital for several months.

Cuthbert remained his inspiration, however, and it was a vision of Cuthbert in which the saint promised him a hermitage in England that promoted him to return to the land of his birth – this time to Durham, where Cuthbert lay buried – and eventually became a hermit in the forest around Finchale (just outside Durham) in the hunting grounds of the rather disreputable Bishop Ranulf Flambard (the first man to escape from the Tower of London).

Godric embarked upon a life of austerity and mortification, wearing a hair shirt under a metal breastplate, under the guidance of the prior of Durham. Many people sought his advice either in person or from a distance (the latter group included both St Thomas à Becket and Pope Alexander III), and Godric developed a reputation for miracles, for prophecy and for an affinity (characteristic of hermits) for the wild animals among which he lived.

His gift of prophecy extended to foretelling not only his own death both also the deaths of others. Though he seafaring days were now behind him, his prophetic charism enabled him to know when a ship somewhere was in danger of being wrecked, and he would cease from whatever he was doing in order to offer up a prayer.

Godric’s prophetic visions were also the occasion for the Blessed Virgin (among others) to teach him songs, and the four which are recorded by his biographer Reginald are the oldest examples of English verse for which we possess the original musical settings survive, and also the first to favour rhyme and metre over traditional Anglo-Saxon techniques of alliteration.

He died in 1170, tended and mourned by the monks of Durham, having given expression during the course of his extended life to the vocations of both the pilgrim and the hermit.

St Milburga

Following on from my post on St Dunstan, I see from the Ordo of the English Benedictine Congregation that today is also the day (at Curzon Abbey, anyway) when the feast of St Milburga (d. 715?) is observed. Like St Dunstan, St Milburga is one of the saints of Anglo-Saxon England about whom I wrote on my currently mothballed Saints and Blesseds blog. The original post is reproduced below....

Milburga (or Milburgh) was born in the latter half of the seventh century, one of three daughters of Ermenburga, a Kentish princess. The family was devout and completely devoted to Christ, and all three sisters – Milburga, Mildred and Mildgytha – were canonized as saints.

It was commonplace in Anglo-Saxon England for royal women to use their wealth and influence to support the Church and promote learning. They were involved in founding (and running) abbeys, in education, in patronage of sacred art, and in care for the poor and sick.

It was not unusual for these royal women to marry, raise their children, and then retire to a nunnery or to some other form of consecrated life, and this is precisely what Ermenburga did.

Milburga was keen to follow in her mother’s footsteps, and enlisted the support of her father Merewald and of her uncle Wulfhere (who happened to be King of Mercia), she established a monastery at Wenlock (in modern-day Shropshire), of which she became the second abbess, being consecrated by St Theodore of Canterbury.

Milburga’s abbey was intended to reflect and represent the beauty of the human soul redeemed and graced by God. Milburga in effect created a foretaste of heaven, in icon of God’s new creation, in which the surpassing perfection of the fruit in the orchards, of the flowers in the gardens, and, in short, of the entire physical environment, was so charged with intimations of redemption and renewal that it possessed a sacramental quality.

However, Miburga did not shut herself up within this living, breathing icon of the new creation, but regularly went forth into the wild and dangerous world beyond the abbey walls to bring conversion and consolation to the abandoned souls who inhabited the remote fastnesses of the Mercian countryside.

On one occasion while engaged upon works of mercy she encountered a young prince, who, wishing to marry her, sent his soldiers to sieze her. In an episode which recalls the crossing of the Red Sea by the Israelites, she fled across a stream called the Corve which then swelled up to the size of a small river, thereby frustrating the pursuing soldiers.

Like many Anglo-Saxon saints, Milburga had a tremendous affinity with the natural world – an affinity which found expression not only in the arrangements of the abbey gardens which teemed with herbs and flowers and birds (with which Milburga had a special and mysterious relationship), but also in a love of country people and country life in general.

She used to visit the surrounding villages, treating the ailments of the country-dwellers (probably with herbs), and occasionally effecting miraculous cures, and was known for her gentleness and kindness, her sanctity of life, and her ability to levitate.

After her death (some time between 700 and 722) she was buried near the altar of the abbey, but, in the wake of the destruction of the church by Danish invaders, the exact location of her mortal remains was unknown. However, after the re-founding of Wenlock Abbey by Cluniac monks from La-Charité-sur-Loire in 1079, her tomb was discovered and opened up, giving forth a heavenly fragrance which recalled the sensory paradise of the old monastery garden.

St Dunstan

Today is the feast-day of St Dunstan of Canterbury (909-988AD). A long while ago I wrote piece on St Dunstan on my currently dormant Saints and Blesseds blog, which I reproduce below....

Born shortly before 910AD, Dunstan was the son of a Wessex noble, Heorstan, and nephew of the bishops of Winchester and Wells. Taught by Irish monks amidst the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey, from an early age he developed a love of learning and of artistic craftsmanship.

Having entered the service of his uncle Athelm (now Archbishop of Canterbury) he was soon appointed to the court of King Athelstan, where he became a favourite of the king. Envious courtiers successfully discredited him by accusing him of witchcraft, and he was banished from the court.

Not content with thus disgracing him, his adversaries assaulted him as he left, and cast him, beaten and bound, into a cesspool. Dunstan recovered from his ordeal sufficiently to travel to Winchester where he entered the service of the bishop, his uncle Ælfheah, who encouraged him to become a monk.

At this point Dunstan developed severe blood-poisoning (wrongly diagnosed as leprosy) as a result of having been plunged, covered in open wounds, into the cesspool, and he interpreted this as a sign from God that he did indeed have a religious vocation.

Having first been ordained, he retired to live the life of a hermit at Glastonbury, constructing a minuscule cell no more than five feet long and two and a half feet deep against the wall of the ancient church of St Mary. Here he practised the harp and developed the skills of a craftsman while fighting off repeated demonic attacks (on one occasion he restrained the devil by holding his face with his craftsman’s tongs).

According to another story, Dunstan (a skilled blacksmith) was asked to shoe a horse whose owner he perceived to be the devil, and he duly nailed the shoe to the hoof not of the horse but of the devil. In return for removing the nails (which were the cause of considerable pain) Dunstan made the devil promise that he would never enter a house where a horseshoe was displayed above the door, and this appears to be the origin of the idea of the “lucky horseshoe”.

While at Glastonbury, Dunstan extended his reputation as a silversmith, musician and illuminator of manuscripts. He also inherited a substantial amount of money from his father and from King Æthelstan’s niece, Lady Æthelflaed (in gratitude for his trusted advice), and resolved to use the money for the good of the Church.

His new-found fortune made him a man of wealth and status, and in 940 he was invited to King Edmund’s court at Cheddar. However, history repeated itself, and jealous courtiers contrived to turn Edmund against Dunstan.

Happily, a miraculous event prompted Edmund to a change of heart. Pursued by Edmund in the Mendip Forest, a stage hurtled over the edge of the Cheddar cliffs, closely followed by the hounds. Unable to stop his horse as it careered towards certain death, Edmund was suddenly inspired to repent of his treatment of Dunstan and to promise to make amends. His horse pulled up right at the edge of the precipice, and Edmund was true to his promise, taking Dunstan to Glastonbury and set him on the abbot’s throne with a remit to restore divine worship and regular monastic observance.

Blessed with copious financial resources and with the support of the king, Dunstan set about rebuilding Glastonbury – both in the sense of physically reconstructing the abbey, and in the sense of establishing authentic Benedictine monasticism there. Dunstan ruled the abbey in strict fidelity to the Rule of St Benedict,

The assassination in 946 of King Edmund and his replacement by King Edred resulted in a new determination to work for reconciliation and unification between the Anglo-Saxon and Danish halves of England. Edred, together with the Kentish and East Anglian nobles, was keen to promote true Catholic observance (including the rebuilding of churches and the reform of monasticism) as a part of this campaign, but was opposed by the nobles of Wessex (many of whom were Dunstan’s relations) who wished to uphold existing customs.

Dunstan was very much on the side of the king in opposition to the Wessex nobles, but Edwy, who succeeded Edred in 955, reversed the policy, and was soon in open conflict with Dunstan, who went too far in his criticism of the youthful king when he upbraided him for cavorting on his coronation day with a noblewoman called Ælfgifu and her mother. Dunstan fled to his cloister, but Edwy pursued him and looted the monastery.

Dunstan now went into exile in Flanders (in modern Belgium) where he spent time in the Abbey of Mont Blandin near Ghent – one of the centers of the Clunicac reform which had led to a Benedictine revival in that part of Europe – and here he encountered a model for the reform of monasticism in England which was to be his major undertaking upon his return, underpinning as it did his vision for a renewed church.

Meanwhile, a revolt by Mercian and Northumbrian nobles meant that Edgar became king north of the Thames (Edwy remained in power south of the river), and Dunstan was recalled to England and consecrated Bishop of Worcester in 957, and, Archbishop of Canterbury in 959 (Edwy having died).

Dunstan was now, in effect, both Archbishop of Canterbury and Prime Minister. Having appointed like-minded reformers to key bishoprics, he was soon able to begin his reform of the English church, rooting out abuses, building monasteries, replacing the secular canons in many of the great cathedrals with monks, and raising the standard of the parish clergy (who were now expected to teach their parishioners trades in addition to ministering to them spiritually).

Secular reforms included the creation of a navy to protect England from Viking attacks, and the establishment of some measure of law and order where previously there had been lawlessness. He also devised an imperial-style coronation ceremony for Edgar in 973 (which became the basis for coronation ceremonies up to the present day), and persuaded six other British kings (including the king of Scotland) to pledge allegiance to Edgar.

Edgar died in 975, and was succeeded by Edweard II (his son), but Edweard was opposed by Ælfthryth (Edgar’s second or third wife) who wished to see her own son Ethelred reign as king. Supported by Dunstan, Edweard was crowned at Winchester, but the opponents of Dunstan’s reforms felt empowered, and parts of the country witnessed a sustained attack on the monasteries which were seen as driving the reform-movement in both church and state.

The assassination of King Edweard in 978 (he was later venerated as St Edward the Martyr) and the subsequent accession of Ethelred the Unready marked the end of Dunstan’s career in the service of the king (his coronation of Ethelred being his final act of participation in the life of the state), and he went into retirement at Canterbury where he devoted himself to long hours of prayer and to teaching at the cathedral.

While at Canterbury he fostered devotion to the saints of the city, especially St Augustine and St Æthelberht, whose shrines he used to visit by night (sometimes to the accompaniment of angelic song). He continued to establish schools and to build and restore churches, to offer patronage to visiting scholars from Europe, and to promote – and practise – the crafts that he had learned both in his youth and in his later years (including organ-building and bell-making).

Having been forewarned by angels of his impending death, he bade farewell to his flock on the Feast of the Ascension in 988 and retried to his bed to prepare for death, his final words (reportedly) being “He hath made a remembrance of his wonderful works, being a merciful and gracious Lord: He hath given food to them that fear Him”.

Dunstan soon became one of England’s favourite saints – perhaps the premier saint until he was eclipsed by Thomas Becket. His relics were rescued from the old Canterbury Cathedral (destroyed by fire in 1074) and transferred to the new Cathedral, but his shrine was destroyed at the time of the Reformation.

Syrian Popes

There have been a number of Syrian Popes: Evaristus (died in 107), Anicetus (168), John V (687), Serguis I (701), Sisinnius (708), Constantine I (715), and Gregory III (732).

These thumbnail sketches of some of the most significant Syrian Popes are extracted from an essay entitled by Allen Maloof at Catholic Culture entitled The Popes and the Eastern Rites, originally published in The American Ecclesiastical Review (October 1963)

Sergius I (687-701) came from a Syrian family, which had settled at Palermo, Sicily. Leo II appointed him the titular priest of the Church of St. Suzanna (he was responsible for its restoration). He championed the prerogatives of St. Peter against the Byzantine emperor Justinian II. As pope, he encouraged missionary work in France, England and Ireland. (He baptized the King of Wessex— Caedwalla.) He introduced into the Latin Liturgy, the prayer "Agnus Dei" at the moment of the breaking of the bread; he also solemnized the celebration of the four principal feasts of the Blessed Virgin: The Nativity, the Purification, the Annunciation, and the Dormition.

Constantine I (708-715) was a champion of papal rights against the tyranny of the Byzantine emperors and against the Monothelite heresy, which taught that there was only one will in Christ. He was the first to wear the Tiara of Eastern origin. Most likely the lozenge shaped Greek "Epigonation" was adopted at this time. The pope alone among Western bishops wears it.

Gregory III (731-741) was a Benedictine of Syrian origin. He was noted for his linguistic abilities and his subtle sense of humor. A great missionary pope, he organized the religious structure of Germany under St. Boniface as Metropolitan. In 732, he condemned the Iconoclastic heresy and proclaimed his veneration for the holy images and relics by building a beautiful oratory, dedicated to all the saints, at Rome. It was he who obtained the political sovereignty of Rome (with himself as temporal ruler) from Pepin the Short. This sovereignty existed until 1870.

Melkite Greek-Catholic head on the "Arab Spring"

From the Catholic News Agency...

Patriarch Gregorios III, the Syria-based head of the Melkite Greek-Catholic Church, is warning Western leaders not to encourage the revolutions currently shaking up the Middle East.

“Our Arab countries are not ready for revolutions, and not even for democracy of the European kind and model,” the patriarch explained in a recent letter to Western leaders. “I am asking the West not to encourage revolutions unconditionally here and there in the Arab world.”

In the patriarch's native Syria, government forces have killed hundreds of protesters in response to continuing mass demonstrations.

The patriarch said “social, religious, and demographic” factors could cause instability and violence if regimes are toppled rather than reformed. He called for “evolution, not revolution,” and said Western leaders should push for reforms.

“Ask the heads of state of Arab countries to work for real development, and demand a clear, bold plan,” he stated. “But don’t encourage revolutions!”

“Arab heads of state should be invited and encouraged to develop democratic structures, freedom, and respect for human rights,” wrote Patriarch Gregorios, the spiritual leader of 1.6 million Melkite Catholics.

He said Arab leaders should also be “supported in promoting systems of medical and social welfare and housing,” to ease economic difficulties that have fueled many of the revolutions.

The patriarch described Syria's own instability, characterized by mounting public protests and increasingly violent responses by the government of President Bashar al-Assad, as a “tragic situation” for all concerned.

But he rejected the notion of overturning the government. Many Syrian Christians are not supporting the protests, fearing that a sudden end to the Assad regime would plunge the country into a sectarian power struggle comparable to the aftermath of the Iraq war.

“Already, the situation has deteriorated,” Patriarch Gregorios observed, citing reports of “organized crime, robbery, fear, terror being spread, and rumors of threats to churches … All this creates trauma.”

Under its present government, Syria manages to keep a delicate balance between its Muslim majority and Christian minority. The patriarch described the country as a “model of faithful and open secularism,” and said the city of Damascus was “one of the most important cities in terms of Christian presence in the Arab world.”

But this presence could come to an end if a sudden vacuum of power leaves Islamic extremists and others fighting to control the country. “Christians especially are very fragile in the face of crises and bloody revolutions,” the patriarch said.

“Christians will be the first victims of these revolutions, especially in Syria. A new wave of emigration will follow immediately.”

Patriarch Gregorios also asked the West to prioritize the Israeli-Palestinian peace process. He said the outcome of that project, which became stalled last year over the issue of Israeli settlements, would be decisive for the future of Christianity in the Middle East.

H/T Byzantine, Texas

Bl John Paul II the theologian

Over the last couple of years I've gathered together on my other blog (Enlarging the Heart) a few extracts from the teaching of Bl John Paul II - extracts reflecting certain themes in his theology (the Trinity, divine mercy, the Holy Spirit, redemption understood in terms of the Patristic idea of "deification", liturgy understood in terms of participation in the liturgy of heaven) which seem to me to lie at the very heart of his vision.

Revisiting them on the occasion of his beatification I'm reminded that, though people sometimes refer to Bl John Paul as a "philosopher pope" and to Pope Benedict as a "theologian pope", Bl John Paul's more specifically theological writing is extraordinarily rich and warm, and is truly steeped in the Scriptures, the Fathers (eastern and western), and the fulness of Catholoc tradition.