St Chad’s Birthday in Heaven.

Detail from the Altar Reredos, St Chad’s College Chapel, University of Durham

Today, March 2nd, the Church keeps the feast day of St. Chad. In a rich and eventful life there is too much to mention, so I thought I would say something about his birthday into heaven.

Appointed the first Bishop of Lichfield, in what was then the Kingdom of Mercia, Chad established his church and monastery there. Chad also sought solitude, in the custom of the Celts and Anglo-Saxons, by building a house away from the church to which he could retire quietly to pray and study whenever his missionary duties permitted. In Celtic style he also trained up others to carry out the work of mission, as he himself had been trained by St. Aidan on Lindisfarne. One of those he trained was Winfrid who succeeded him as Bishop. him as Bishop. Chad was to be bishop for only three more years for in 672 the Plague struck again.

The Venerable Bede in his Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, records the event:

When he had ruled the church of the province with great success for two and a half years, heaven sent a plague which, bringing bodily death, bore away the living stones of the Church to the Temple in heaven.”

The date of his death was March 2^nd 672.

It was accompanied by a premonition 7 days before it happened. A monk working outside Chad’s oratory heard a joyful melody of persons singing sweetly which descended from heaven into the bishop’s cell, accompanied by a great light. Half an hour later the sound ceased and Chad called the brother asking him to bring his companions. When they entered the oratory he urged them to preserve peace, be faithful in prayer and observe the discipline of the monastic life. He asked them to pray for him as he approached death and he begged them to remember their own deaths which would come at an uncertain hour – they must be vigilant, prayerful and given to good works,
The brother who had first heard the singing asked Chad from where it had come.“They were angelic spirits” replied Chad “who came to call me to my heavenly reward, Which I have always longed after.”
Shortly after he fell into the throes of his final illness which grew steadily worse until 7 days later, having received the eucharistic sacrament, he died – or as Bede puts it:
“his soul being delivered from the prison of the body, the angels, as may justly be believed, attending him, he departed to the joys of heaven.”

Bede then comments that “it was no wonder that he joyfully beheld the day of his death, or rather the day of our Lord, which he had always carefully expected till it came; for notwithstanding his many merits of continence, humility, teaching, prayer, voluntary poverty, and other virtues, he was so full of the fear (Love) of God, so mindful of his last end in all his actions…”

He died as he had lived, deeply within the love of God.
He combined the Celtic love of mission with a firm conviction that nothing is accomplished without prayer.
His life was one of active Proclamation of the Gospel but whenever he could he would retire to the solitude of communion with God – a lesson he had well learned at Lindisfarne.
Whilst his call was to the Market Place of the world his heart was always travelling towards heaven.

[Mr G]

Little things with a generous heart.

Welsh hearts generally sing as the month of March begins. It is the day we remember the patron Saint of Wales—St. David. His importance goes beyond his native country because he was one of the leaders of Celtic Christianity. For a long time he was the only Welsh Saint honoured by the whole of the Western Church.
Celebrations may be more muted this year but Wales is a resilient place and there will doubtless be celebrations of sorts.

As a spiritual leader St. David has been described as an athlete of the spiritual life who pressed himself to the limits of human endurance. But what he expected of himself he did not demand of others whom he treated with deep compassion, especially the poor and the sick.
On his deathbed, his monks gathered around him and he spoke his final words to them

Lords, brothers and sisters, be happy and keep your faith and your belief, and do the little things that you have heard and seen me do.”

The little things which characterized David’s own approach to life were (a) to respect others (b) to live in lowliness, which can be read as meekness and humility, or to live a life of simplicity, and (c) be at home to others. This is about practicing the deeply held monastic ideal of hospitality in which Christ is recognized in everyone.

These are important virtues today when so many are isolated, lonely or, because of lockdown, in dark and sometimes dangerous places.
Loneliness is one of the scourges of the pandemic so it is even more important to reach out and enfold people with kindness and love, even if it is by phone, email, shopping, just being nice to them and so on. On my daily walk I meet strangers and neighbours and we exchange a few words. People who never used to speak to each other are now reaching out in friendliness. That’s about the hospitality of the heart. This hospitality is based on recognizing the worth of others. This involves looking for and rejoicing in the image of Jesus Christ in others. It enriches theirs and our day.

One of David’s early biographers with a personal knowledge of him said that he was constantly feeding a multitude of orphans, wards, widows, needy, sick, feeble and pilgrims.
Drawing on the example David set, a modern writer on Welsh Spirituality, Patrick Thomas wrote:
“In any community apparently insignificant acts of habitual kindness and self-forgetfulness which display a fundamental respect and love for others can generate stability, unity and wholeness. On the other hand, acts of unkindness or contempt, however superficially trivial, can quickly lead to the disintegration of a society as feuds develop and are fuelled by an unwillingness to forgive.”

Seemingly Insignificant acts of kindness which takes us outside ourselves is at the heart of what St. David meant when he spoke of doing the little things.
Respect, Lowliness and Hospitality towards others, beginning with random acts of kindness combined with selfless care, would be a good way of building up loving and caring communities.
It would also, as with St David, bring us closer to God whose acts of habitual kindness towards us we call grace.

[Mr.G]

New Dawn

This photo was taken by Gill Henwood to greet the dawn in the Lake District.

Yet another reminder to us that Spring is coming near with bursting new life, bird song, trees awakening, bulbs bursting, animals getting ready to greet the new joys, and, hopefully, human hearts filling with hope.

No one can cancel the Spring. Embrace this hope-filled season fully!

All around us is blessing.

A ‘Nod’ of Snowdrops

The photos are from Gill Henwood’s garden in the Lake District which I thought, with an occasional reflection, might help to cheer us towards Spring.

First, the heading of this post needs a slight explanation. There are a number of collective names for snowdrops but my favourite is a ‘Nod’ of snowdrops with their nodding white heads tinged with green. I suppose if you had bell-ringing leanings you might want to take up the Candlemass Bells theme and call them a ‘Peal’ of Snowbells.
Other collective nouns are a drift; a carpet; a blanket; and even, most appropriately right now, a ‘hope’

In his poem ‘to a Snowdrop’, William Wordsworth called them ‘Chaste’.

Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they
But hardier far, once more I see thee bend
Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend.

the poem ends:

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste Snowdrop, venturous harbinger of Spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

Mary Robinson, in her 1797 novel, Walsingham’ wrote:

The Snowdrop, Winter’s timid child
awakes to life bedewl’d with tears

Tennyson called the snowdrop February’s Fair maid to which he wishes, many,many welcomes.

The National Trust website for its property at Polesden Lacey heads up its site by calling the Snowdrop a ‘Ray of Winter Sunshine’.

The Trust reminds us that as we get ready to leave winter behind, “there are fewer perfect signs of Spring regrowth and regeneration to come than the humble snowdrop, one of the earliest flowers in the garden. You have to admire the tenacity of their delicate nodding heads as they force their way above ground and seize their moment in the winter light, ready to delight and enchant anyone who seeks them out.”

*This snowdrop seems to be a variety of Galanthus Elwesii that Cambo gardens near Fife nicknamed ‘Grumpy’* *I wonder what you might call it?*

*This is a double scented snowdrop who is rather shy and closes up at night.*

*Some* would call this a ‘carpet’ but I prefer ‘a serial nodding’

Thanks to Gill for her photographs and her clear devotion to Galianthus! (all 23 species!)

for more information about the Snowdrop visit the RHS (Royal Horticultural Society Lindley Library blog. The article by Gill Briggs (RHS staff), quoting Mary Robinson, refers to the Snowdrop as Winter’s Timid Child.’ I’m not sure I agree. I think I prefer to agree with Hans Christian Andersen in his story of the Snowdrop. He calls her ‘Brave’. She’s that and more!
(See the delightful BBC YouTube version of the story)

[Mr. G]