High Days and Holy Days in August

 

1 Ethelwold - the Saint of Wessex

 

St Ethelwold (c.912 - 84)   did great things for the church at Winchester, which in those days was the principle town of Wessex.

 

St Ethelwold began as a simple monk eager to restore the Rule of Benedictine in England, a major reform for the church of the time.  After serving at the abbey in Glastonbury, he was sent on to restore the old abbey at Abingdon.  The king thought highly of him, and used him to teach his son, the future king, Edgar.

 

When in 963 Ethelwold became Bishop of Winchester, he replaced the cathedral canons with monks, thus founding the first monastic cathedral in the land.  This was a uniquely English institution, which remained until the Reformation.

 

The monastic reform quickly gained momentum: with the King's support, Ethelwold restored old monasteries such as Milton (Dorset), New Minster and Nunnaminster in Winchester, while new monasteries were founded and richly endowed at Peterborough (966), Ely (970) and Thorney (972).

 

Ethelwold was austere, able and dynamic. Under his leadership, the monks surpassed themselves in music, illumination and writing.  When Ethelwold set the monks to work with the masons in the cathedral at Winchester, he built the most powerful organ of its time in England: it was played by two monks, and had 400 pipes and 36 bellows.  In music, Ethelwold's Winchester had the distinction of producing the first English polyphony in the Winchester Troper.

 

Ethelwold's monasteries also produced a surpassing new style of illumination, and his school of vernacular writing was the most important of its time: with accurate, linguistically significant translations.  A major event of his episcopate was the consecration of Winchester Cathedral in 980.

 

4   Oswald – a king with faith, courage and humility

 

Many Christians have indulged in fantasies from time to time about doing something spectacular for God, which would be remembered for centuries afterwards. Oswald, who lived from 605 to 642AD, was in a position to do so. He was a King, but in those times such a title exposed him to danger as well as power. His father Aethelfrith was a great warrior who laid the foundations of the great kingdom of Northumbria. But Aethelfrith was killed by a rival, and Oswald was only twelve years old when he was driven into exile with his elder sister and two younger brothers. For their own safety, all were taken to Irish territory in the West of Scotland.

 

The three brothers were educated by the Christian monks on Iona. Meanwhile, warfare raged in Northumbria, and in due course the time came for Oswald to make a difficult decision. Should he remain in safety, or return to claim his kingdom? In 632 his older brother led an expedition there to sue for peace, but instead he was put to the sword. It was a time of broken dreams and bitter grief for the young Oswald, who must have spent many hours in prayer before he decided to risk his life by following his brother south.

 

In his famous book, The Ecclesiastical History of England, Bede tells us that Oswald prepared to meet his enemies Cadwallon and Penda in battle on a December night at a place which is now called Heavenfield. His small army was likely to be outnumbered and victory seemed impossible. But that night, Oswald had a vision of St Columba, the founder of Iona. Columba prophesied that Oswald would be king, and reminded him of God's words to Joshua at the river Jordan, "Be strong, and of good courage... for you will be the leader of these people as they occupy this land."

 

Before battle commenced, Oswald made a rough cross from two young trees and held it upright until soldiers were able to fill in the hole around it. Then he led his army in a prayer that God would bring victory and deliverance to his people. He also promised that if they survived, he would send for missionaries from Iona to bring the Christian faith to Northumbria.

 

Oswald's subsequent victory has become part of the region's folklore, commemorated by the name of that battlefield and the more permanent cross which now stands at Heavenfield. Many leaders would have regarded such a triumph as the high point of their career, advanced to the royal palace and quickly forgotten their promise to God. But Oswald remained faithful, and in due course St Aidan arrived in the new kingdom and made Lindisfarne the centre of his ministry.

 

Now it was time for Oswald to reveal a quality less frequently associated with kings, but even more vital to the spread of God's work. That quality was humility. As the sponsor and protector of Aidan, he could easily have imposed his own agenda on this new mission. Such a test came early, when Aidan declined Oswald's offer of resources at court in Bamburgh castle, and chose the remoter location of Lindisfarne. Not only did Oswald accept the monk's decision gracefully; he continued to spend many uncomfortable weeks on the road acting as Aidan's interpreter. His willingness to lay aside his kingly privileges and play second fiddle to a spiritual leader ensured that the Gospel spread quickly through the new kingdom and transformed many lives.

 

Within a few years, dark times returned to Northumbria. Oswald was slain in battle and his brother Oswin succeeded to the throne. Penda continued to wreak havoc with his marauding raids; on one famous occasion, Aidan watched him attack the royal fortress as he prayed on the Farne Islands, and it is written that his intercessions caused the wind to change direction and beat back the flames from the castle gates. But through it all, the light of Christianity continued to flourish and grow. Aidan is rightly remembered as the missionary who brought the good news to Northumbria, but he could not have succeeded without Oswald, the man who was brave enough to claim an earthly kingdom, yet obedient enough to play a humbler role in advancing a heavenly one.

 

Prayer from the liturgy for St Oswald's day (August 5th), written by the Northumbria Community:

 

"I place into your hands, Lord,

the choices that I face.

Guard me from choosing

the way perilous

of which the end is heart-pain

and the secret tear.

 

May I feel your presence

at the heart of my desire,

and so know it is for Your desire for me.

Thus shall I prosper,

thus see that my purpose is from You,

thus have power to do the good which endures."

 

(Copyright Northumbria Community Trust, 1996)

 

6          The Transfiguration - or the day Jesus met Elijah and Moses...

 

The story is told in Matthew (17:1-9), Mark (9:1-9) and Luke (9:28-36). 

 

It was a time when Jesus' ministry was popular, when people were seeking him out.  But on this day, he made time to take Peter, James and John, his closest disciples, up a high mountain.  In the fourth century, Cyrillic of Jerusalem identified it as Mount Tabor (and there is a great church up there today), but others believe it more likely to have been one of the three spurs of Mount Hermon, which rises to about 9,000 feet, and overlooks Caesarea Philippi. 

 

High up on the mountain, Jesus was suddenly transfigured before his friends.  His face began to shine as the sun, his garments became white and dazzling.  Elijah and Moses, of all people, suddenly appeared, and talked with him.  A bright cloud overshadowed the disciples.

 

Peter was staggered, but, enthusiast that he was - immediately suggested building three tabernacles on that holy place, one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.  But God's 'tabernacling', God's dwelling with mankind, does not any longer depend upon building a shrine.  It depends on the presence of Jesus, instead.  And so a cloud covered them, and a voice spoke out of the cloud, saying that Jesus was his beloved son, whom the disciple should 'hear'.  God's dwelling with mankind depends upon our listening to Jesus.

 

Then, just as suddenly, it is all over.  What did it mean?  Why Moses and Elijah?  Well, these two men represent the Law and the Prophets of the Old Covenant, or Old Testament.  But now they are handing on the baton, if you like: for both the Law and the Prophets found their true and final fulfilment in Jesus, the Messiah.

 

Why on top of a mountain?  In Exodus we read that Moses went up Mount Sinai to receive the sacred covenant from Yahweh in the form of the Ten Commandments.  Now Jesus goes up and is told about the 'sealing' of the New Covenant, or New Testament of God with man, which will be accomplished by his coming death in Jerusalem.

 

That day made a lifelong impact on the disciples.  Peter mentions it in his second letter, 2 Peter 1:16 - 19 - invariably the reading for this day.

 

The Eastern Churches have long held the Transfiguration as a feast as important as Christmas, Epiphany, Ascension and Pentecost.  But it took a long time for the West to observe the Transfiguration.  The feast starts appearing from the 11th and 12th centuries, and the Prayer Book included it among the calendar dates, but there was no liturgical provision for it until the 19th century.

 

11        Clare (1194 – 1253)

 

Clare was the famous virgin founder of the Minoresses or Poor Clares.  Born at Assisi of the Offreduccio family, Clare grew up to hear the teaching of St Francis of Assisi, and at 18 she renounced all her possessions and joined him at the Portiuncula, where she became a nun.  Soon Francis found her and her companions a small house adjacent to the church of San Damiano, Assisi, which he had so lovingly restored. 

 

And so it was that Clare became abbess in 1216 of a community of women who wished to live according to the rule and spirit of St Francis.  The way of life was one of extreme poverty and austerity, but this did not seem to discourage anyone.  For like the Franciscan friars, Clare's nuns soon spread to other parts of Europe, especially Spain, Bohemia, France and England, where four convents were founded in the late 13th and 14th centuries.

 

Clare never left her convent at Assisi – she became distinguished as one of the great medieval contemplatives, devoted to serving her community in great joy, and practising Franciscan ideals, including the love of nature. 

 

Clare was considered a powerful woman:  when Assisi was in danger of being sacked by the armies of the Emperor Frederick II, Claire, although ill, was carried to the wall with a pyx containing the Blessed Sacrament.  At sight of her and the pyx, her biographers say, the armies fled.  This is why in art Clare is often depicted with a pyx or monstrance, as on the D'Estouteville Triptych of English origin c 1360.  Clare was canonised only two years after her death in 1253. The Poor Clare continue today in many countries as a contemplative order. 

 

All in all, Clare's life was one of extreme self-denial and constant contemplative prayer. So it is hard to explain easily why Clare has been named patron saint of television.   Perhaps there is a TV company somewhere who wants to launch a series called ‘Help!  I'm a Saint – get me out of here!'

 

14        Maximilian Kolbe - Christian witness amidst 20th century suffering

 

Some people's lives seem to epitomise the suffering of millions, but also to shine with a Christian response to it.  One such person was Maximilian Kolbe, 1894 - 1941, a Franciscan priest of Poland, and publisher extraordinary.

 

Maximilian was born at Zdunska Wola, near Lodz, where his parents, devout Christians, worked in a cottage weaving industry.  Like thousands of others at the time, the family and their village was ground into poverty by Russian exploitation.   In 1910 Maximilian entered the Franciscan Order, and studied at Rome.  After his ordination in 1919, Maximilian returned to Poland, where he was sent to teach church history in a seminary.  But a new factor had entered his life: he diagnosed with tuberculosis.

 

Living in post-war Poland was difficult enough, but with tuberculosis as well - most people would have quietly withered away.  Not Maximilian Kolbe.

 

Instead, the tuberculosis gave Maximilian a sense of urgency - a sense of the brief transitoriness of this life.  He knew his time was slipping away.  Instead of teaching history, he determined to do something to help the Christians living in Poland now, in the tatters of Europe after the First World War.  And so he founded a magazine for Christian readers in Cracow, who badly needed effective apologetics to help them hold to their faith in a chaotic world. 

 

Soon, the obsolete printing presses (which were operated by Maximilian's fellow priests and lay brothers) were working overtime - the magazine's circulation had leapt to 45,000. Then the printing presses were moved to a town near Warsaw, Niepokalanow, where Maximilian now founded a Franciscan community which combined prayer with cheerfulness and poverty with modern technology: daily as well as weekly newspapers were soon produced.  The community grew and grew, until by the late 1930s it numbered 762 friars.

 

Then in 1939 the Germans invaded Poland.  Maximilian sent most of his friars home, to protect them from what was to come.  He turned the monastery into a refugee camp for 3,000 Poles and 1,500 Jews.  And the presses continued: taking a patriotic, independent line, critical of the Third Reich.

 

Kolbe was arrested by the Gestapo along with four friars.  They were taken to Auschwitz in May 1941.  Their names were exchanged for tattooed numbers; and they were sent to brutal forced labour. 

 

But Maximilian Kolbe continued his priestly ministry.  He heard confessions in unlikely places, and smuggled in bread and wine for the Eucharist.  His sympathy and compassion for those even more unfortunate than himself was outstanding.

 

Then came the final scene in his hard life.  At the end of July, 1941, several men escaped from his bunker at the camp.  The Gestapo, in revenge, came to select several more men from the same bunker who were to be starved to death.  A man, Francis Gajowniczek, was chosen.  As he cried in despair, Kolbe stepped forward. 

 

“I am a Catholic priest.  I wish to die for that man.  I am old; he has a wife and children.”   The officer in charge shrugged his shoulders - and obliged.

 

So Maximilian went to the death chamber of Cell 18, and set about preparing the others to die with dignity by prayers, psalms, and the example of Christ's Passion.  Two weeks later only four were left alive:  Maximilian alone was fully conscious.  He was injected with phenol and died on 14 August, aged 47.

 

He was beatified by Paul VI in 1971.  In 1982 he was canonised by Pope John Paul II, formerly Archbishop of Cracow, the diocese which contains Auschwitz.  Present at the ceremony that day was Francis Gajowniczek, the man whose life Maximilian Kolbe had saved.

 

28        Augustine of Hippo (354 – 430)

 

After St Paul, who was the most influential Christian writer ever?

 

St Augustine of Hippo, whose feast-day in 28 August.  He lived and wrote in a time of social and spiritual chaos.  The Roman Empire was collapsing, the world was about to slide into the dark ages and the Church was under serious threat from both heresies within and paganism without.

 

What St Augustine wrote helped the Church both to avoid perversions of Christianity, and to stand strong and unafraid amongst the violent tumult of the times.  His writings held sway over Christianity for the next 15 centuries or so, and still influence us heavily today.

 

Augustine was born at Tagaste, in modern Algeria.  His father was a pagan, but his mother, Monica, was a Christian.  After studying rhetoric at Carthage to become a lawyer, he instead became a scholar-philosopher.  He abandoned Christianity for Manichaeism, and lived with a mistress for 15 years.  He moved to Rome and then Milan to teach rhetoric, but slowly grew disenchanted with Manichaeism. 

 

After a long interior conflict, vividly described in his 'Confessions', Augustine was converted and baptised a Christian in 386-7.  He returned to Africa in 388, and joined some friends in establishing a quasi-monastic life.  He was ordained priest in 391, and four years later became coadjutor-bishop of Hippo.  From 396 until his death in 430 he ruled the diocese alone.

 

Augustine had a brilliant mind, an ardent temperament and a gift for mystical insights. Soon his understanding of the Christian Revelation was pouring forth in his many voluminous writings. 

 

So what did he write?  Most famous is 'The Confessions', the sermons on the Gospel and Epistle of John, the De Trinitate and the De Civitate Dei.  This last, ‘The City of God', tackles the opposition between Christianity and the 'world' and represents the first Christian philosophy of history. 

 

Many other works were undertaken in his efforts to tackle various heresies:  Manichaeism, Pelagianism, or Donatism, and led to the development of his thought on Creation, Grace, the Sacraments and the Church.

 

Augustine's massive influence on Christianity has mainly been for the good.  Few others have written with such depth on love, the Holy Trinity and the Psalms.  (The preamble to the marriage service in the BCP is closely based on Augustine.)  But his views on Predestination and some of his views on sex (that it is the channel for the transmission of Original Sin) have since been mainly ignored by the Church.

 

As bishop, Augustine fearlessly upheld order as the Roman Empire disintegrated around him.  At the time of his death, the Vandals were at the very gates of Hippo.

 

31        Aidan - the man who brought Christianity to England

 

August 31st is the feast of St Aidan, who brought Christianity to northern England.  He is a strong contender for the title of the first English bishop. Not that honours meant a great deal to this austere but captivating character.

 

In 635 he came to Northumbria at the invitation of the local ruler, Oswald.  Oswald had spent several years of his childhood on Iona, and when he succeeded to the throne of his northern kingdom he was shrewd enough to realise that the Christian faith would be an ideal unifying force to pacify rival tribes of warlords.

 

Oswald's invitation was not immediately successful. The first missionary from Iona returned in despair, claiming that the barbarity of the Northumbrians made them unconvertible. But as Aidan listened, he felt the unmistakable call of God to try again. "Perhaps you were too harsh on them," he found himself suggesting to the travel-stained missionary. Shortly afterwards, Aidan found himself at the head of a party of brothers heading for Northumbria. He was never to see his beloved Iona again.

 

The monks made the long journey to Northumbria on foot, singing psalms as they went. Their need to ward off the powers of evil with prayer was genuine, for these were dangerous times to travel through remote country unarmed. They arrived safely at Oswald's castle in Bamburgh, where he offered them lavish hospitality and assumed that they would found their community there. However, the brothers realised that to live under the king’s protection would make it difficult to avoid the world's temptations and establish a rapport with the local people. They saw the tidal island of Lindisfarne on the horizon and chose it as their base.  The rest, as the saying goes, is history.

 

Aidan was much loved as a teacher and evangelist; though stern in his own self-discipline, he was prepared to travel to the most inaccessible villages, where he cared for the local people with compassion and gentleness. In time his influence grew and noble people joined the stream of visitors to Lindisfarne.

 

After Oswald's death in 642, his brother Oswin succeeded him as king. Oswin was concerned about Aidan's habit of walking everywhere. The saint was ageing rapidly, his body weakened by years of harsh fasting and exposure to the elements. Oswin wondered what would happen to him one day on the road, and also he felt that such a lowly means of travel was not appropriate for a bishop. So he gave Aidan one of his finest horses, complete with a beautifully worked saddle and bridle.

 

Aidan did not feel able to risk offending the king by spurning his generosity, but he rode out of the palace with a heavy heart. He knew that people would relate to him differently now that he had the trappings of affluence, and that it would be dangerous to stop and rest with such valuable belongings beside him. The king had intended to give him comfort, but his gesture had had the opposite effect. Aidan had learnt that possessions, and the need to protect them, make it more difficult to follow God with an undivided heart. The story goes that he gave the horse, complete with saddle, to the first beggar he met outside the palace gates.

 

A more pragmatic Christian might have reasoned that keeping on the right side of Oswin would lead to opportunities that were too valuable to risk. Indeed, the king was angry when he heard what Aidan had done. "That horse was fit for a king, not for some vagabond," he protested. "I could have found you an old nag if you wanted to give it away." Aidan's reply was simply, "What do you think, O King? Is the son of a mare worth more in your eyes than that son of God?"

 

There was an awkward silence; then the King removed his sword, knelt at Aidan's feet and asked his forgiveness. When he returned to the banqueting table, it was with a beaming smile. Sadly, he too was to perish in battle shortly afterwards; these were violent times. Yet Oswin, whose culture demanded that he should appear all-powerful in the eyes of his followers, had been publicly humbled by the integrity of a simple monk who had challenged his values.

 

What would it be like if contemporary leaders were equally open to God's influence, and if there were more Christian leaders of Aidan's strength of character? Today, we read that Governments are eager to work alongside churches in welfare initiatives, and that the cash-strapped Church of England is considering the unthinkable indignity of asking its bishops to sacrifice their chauffeur-driven cars. Will such stories stand the test of time? Over a thousand years after his death, a statue of Aidan stands in the churchyard of St Mary's on Lindisfarne, visited by pilgrims the world over.

 

The rector of that church is David Adam, who has brought Aidan to public attention through his excellent biography, "Flame in my Heart", and his well-known books of Celtic prayers. It seems that, for once, obedience to God has brought a rich and lasting harvest.

 

 

Flame in my Heart: St Aidan for Today by David Adam, Triangle Books, 1997

 

Go to Next Page

Go to Previous Page

Go to Index Page

Go to Home Page