Tag: Mr G

Bright star of the North

*Cross in the Gospel Garden on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne*, *carved by Fenwick Lawson.*
Photo: Mr G.

St Cuthbert, Praying and Doing

Yesterday, on March 20^th, the Church celebrated Saint Cuthbert. Nowhere more so than the North East of England where Cuthbert came to faith, ministered to people during a difficult time in the life of the Church and led people to deepen their love for God and discover more clearly God’s love for them.

His ministry did not end with his birthday in heaven. The Holy Island of Lindisfarne off the North East coast near Bamburgh remains a centre of pilgrimage and prayerful inspiration to this day. The amazing and richly beautiful Lindisfarne Gospels, created in his honour, are still regarded as one of the most stunning illustrated Gospels alongside the Book of Kells. They can still be seen in the British Library though there is a facsimile in the museum on Holy Island and it’s much more accessible and actually fun to see it in situ. There are of course many printed versions.
The Gospel was the offering of Lindisfarne monks to God as a thanksgiving for all that Cuthbert had illuminated the world with his faith, Gospel love and prayer. Things that he shared with all the people he met.
When the Vikings raised the East Coast of England, the monks took the Gospel alongside other artifacts of Cuthbert to safety on a journey which took a very long time. This was to lead eventually to Durham where the story of Cuthbert continues.

His first journey in faith was very different.

Long before, above the Lammermuir hills bright light in the borders of England and Scotland a light brightened the night sky and attracted the attention of a young shepherd boy. A vision came to him of a holy soul being taken by angels to heaven. Next morning, he heard that the great St Aidan of Lindisfarne had died. The boy, Cuthbert, was moved to go his local monastery at Melrose and seek instruction in order to become a monk. the story of one of the greatest English saints was born. St Cuthbert was to serve God at Melrose, Ripon and Lindisfarne. He was, for a time, Bishop of Lindisfarne.

Cuthbert’s real fame was amongst ordinary people to whom he took the Gospel. Travelling with a portable altar he crossed and criss-crossed Northern England from the Solway to the Tyne. He encouraged Christians in Cumbria, North Yorkshire, Durham and Northumbria. He was a tireless missionary for God. He was also a focus of unity when the Church split after an argument about when and how Easter was to be kept (amongst other things). The Celtic party lost to the Roman one at a Synod of Whitby in 664AD. Many of the Celtic monks returned to Ireland and the church was in total disarray. It fell to Cuthbert and his spiritual companion, St Hilda, to hold the broken church in love and prayer and bring healing and a new unity. Eventually he retreated to the Inner Farne Islands, where on this day, 20th March in the year 687, he died.

When, after the Viking raids, the Body of St. Cuthbert was carried by the monks of Lindisfarne to safety, the journey was long and arduous. It involved a stay in Chester-le-Street and a journey over the Cleveland Hills now known as the Lyke Wake Walk or Coffin Walk.

An account of the final part of the journey is to be found in a ‘History of the Church in Durham’ by a medieval monk, Symeon.
He describes the arrival of the shrine at a place on the east side of what is now the city of Durham. The vehicle on which it rested could not be moved and the bishop directed his monks “that they should solicit an explanation of this sign from heaven by a fast of three days, which should be spent in watching and prayer, in order that they might discover where they should take their abode along with the holy body of the father”. This was done and Symeon goes on to relate that “a revelation was made to a certain religious person named Eadmer, to the purport that they were required to remove the body to Durham and prepare a suitable resting place for it”. This resting place was found when the monks were led to a place called Dun Cow Hill Durham), where a wooden cathedral was built to house the remains. This simple church was eventually replaced by the great Norman Cathedral of Durham, where, today, under a simple slab with the word Cuthbertus ,his body still lies.

An active missionary for God, Cuthbert’s strength lay in his personal communion with God. He was one of those busy saints who, in the words of Cardinal Basil Hume, was always nostalgic for the desert when busy in the market place. Like the Lord he followed, he would withdraw to be alone with God. Often this meant that he had to steal away in the middle of the night. Once, when he stood in the sea near St Abbs Head, a monk spied on him. all night Cuthbert stood in the Cross position of prayer, arms outstretched as he gazed on God. In the morning, when he came ashore, sea otters followed him. They wrapped themselves round his legs and warmed his frozen feet. Then, after a blessing, they returned to the sea.

When busy on Lindisfarne, Cuthbert would steal away to a piece of land which was cut of from the main island at high tide. It’s known today as Cuddy’s Isle. A cross stands where a little cell used to be. For six hours he could enjoy solitude for prayer. He ended his life as a hermit on the Farne Islands.
His life of busyness and the mission he carried out, were only possible because he forced out time (often against all odds) to be still before God. Great things in the name of Jesus can only be achieved when they are backed up by real prayer. Only when we attend to our praying will our ‘doing’ have any effect.
It’s a lesson worth re-learning.

[Mr G]– with a lot of help from the Venerable Bede,
Simeon of Durham, the spirit of the North East,
the witness of Durham Cathedral and the sanctified knowledge of Kate Tristram.

God’s calling card

*Dewdrops on spider’s web. photograph by Gill Henwood*

My friend Gill has recently sent me this photograph of dewdrops on a cobweb near her home in the Lake District.
My thoughts centred on the fragility and ephemeral nature of the scene. A word often associated with spiders’ webs is ‘gossamer’ – a fine filmy substance consisting of cobwebs spun by spiders; light, thin, delicate, almost insubstantial. Certainly short-lived. But another way of seeing it is that of a thin place, a tissue paper kind of boundary between two worlds.

‘Thin Place’ is an idea many of us use to describe places where God seems spiritually and, in a way, physically present to us.
Obvious thin places are religious shrines, like that at Santiago de Compostella where pilgrims walk from many places in Europe to the Northern area of Spain, to a journey end at the Shrine of St. James the Great there. When I made the pilgrimage there a few years ago, I was deeply moved by the experience of God I had and I knew then what a thin place truly is.
There are many such places, such as Iona, the Holy Island of Lindisfarne and legions of other places. Every religion has such holy places which have been sanctified by God and by prayers of the pilgrims.
Not all are huge centres like Lisieux in Northern France or Lourdes where many go to pray for healing. Some are almost backwaters like Little Gidding near Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire. It is a quiet oasis and not that easy to find. However, those who visit, certainly can say of it, words which the great poet T.S.Eliot coined in the Quartet Poem to which he gave it’s name. It is a place where Prayer has been valid. It is valid still. It is truly a thin place where it feels very easy to meet God.

Though all that is true, Gill’s photo reminds me that not all thin places are permanent nor beyond the immediate moment, spectacular. God sanctifies all our meetings with him, it’s just that we don’t often recognize it. (at least, I don’t !) I have to keep remind myself of something St. Teresa of Avila said – God walks among the pots and pans. Her soul friend, St John of the Cross, puts that rather more beautifully, when he says, “God passes through the thicket of the world, and wherever His glance falls He turns all things to beauty.”

In the spider’s web decorated with dewdrops we can be aware of that.
It becomes a way in which God reveals his presence and it is a personal revelation so everything could be experienced as a thin place. Whether it be cleaning the dishes in the kitchen or catching our breath at some lovely sight in the world. Being touched by God, becoming aware of the spiritual in the midst of the ordinariness of life, can be a breath-giving moment. Such an experience can be seen as an act of love on God’s part. In such ways, he presents his ‘calling card’ to us
In the war torn areas of our world it may not seem like that but even there,maybe especially there, in kindnesses and moments when people are touched by love, care and by prayer, almost unawares, certainly not always invited, God comes to call.

[Mr G]

Cusp of Spring

*Tarn Hows photographed at the eve of Candlemass/Imbolc by Gill Henwood.*

The photo speaks its own message.
Very still, chilly breeze, birds singing for Imbolc/Candlemas ….But fallen giant conifer trees from the storms are on slopes exposed and waterlogged ground. After the storms, the birds sing of hope, for Spring, new life, another season to grow. Bittersweet calm, but the low sun rising is warming the cold wet land and her creatures. [Gill]

February
tiptoes across a winter landscape,
luring us away, from cold depression
of dark, dank January.

Weak, shy strengthening Sun,
practices dazzling us with brightness;
whispering promises of hope
about Spring beyond.

Ah! What trembling beauty
lays a carpet of expectant joy!

Mr G February 2024

The Manger, The Cross and a drop of Beer!

The festival day of St Brigid (also known as Brigit, Bride, Brighid, amongst others) is an important day in Ireland because with St Patrick and St Columba, she is regarded as one of the Patron Saints of that fair isle!

She was born in the mid 6^th century (about 451) and died in 525AD. Her father was a pagan chieftain at Leinster and her mother was a Christian. It is said that her mother was born in Portugal and her arrival in Ireland was as a result of Irish pirates who kidnapped her to work as a slave. There is a similarity here with the story of how Patrick came to Ireland.

She was probably influenced in developing her Christian faith from her mother but it is also said of her that she was influenced by the preaching of St Patrick.
Despite strong opposition from her father she became a nun and soon established a reputation for compassionate care of the sick and those in need.
She became head (Abbess) of her convent at Kildare which, following an Irish tradition was known as a double monastery in that both women and men shared a common vocation and life together. Brigid was head of both.
When the Irish Christian influence spread to Northumbria, this practice was introduced there by the Saintly Abbess Hilda first at Hartlepool and then at Whitby.

As with many of the early saints, legends and stories became linked to them and Brigid was no exception.
One particular story is certainly true and it provided the Church in Ireland with a link between Christmas and Easter. It comes in the form of what is now called St. Brigid’s Cross, a picture of which heads this article.

It’s a rather lovely story.
A pagan chieftain from the neighbourhood of Kildare lay dying. Christians in his household sent for Brigid to talk to him about Christ. When she arrived the chieftain was raving. As it was impossible to instruct this delirious man, hopes for his conversion seemed doubtful. Brigid sat down at his bedside and began consoling him. As was customary, the dirt floor was strewn with rushes both for warmth and cleanliness. Brigid stooped down and started to weave them into a cross, fastening the points together. The sick man asked what she was doing. She began to explain the cross, and as she talked his delirium quieted and he questioned her with growing interest. Through her weaving, he became a Christian and was baptized just before he died. Since then the cross of rushes has been venerated in Ireland.
There are, of course, several versions.
This one can be found on the website for St. Brigid’s School in Glasnevin in Dublin and gives a rich description of her background and life.

Christianity is often a faith of paradoxes and none more so than the connection of birth with death. At Candlemass, February 2^nd, we complete our Christmas celebration of Christ the Light and then begin our journey towards Holy Week and Jesus’s death on the Cross. Yet there is nothing strange in this. Christ’s victory over the human heart and the darkness which so often besets our lives begins in the Christmas event but needs Calvary to complete it. There Christ’s love shone from the Cross as it had from the Manger and in the light of that love we can claim our place in God’s heart.
Brigid’s cross, woven from simple straw became a sign of healing and of life.
The straw of the Manger and the Wood of the Cross woven together are symbols of this healing and salvation linked to God’s Saving Love.

Another story connected with St. Brigid is without doubt highly popular in Ireland. It may be viewed as Ireland’s own version of Jesus’s miracle at Cana,

One day, while working in a leper colony, Brigid discovered to her horror that they had run out of beer. It’s important to understand that in those times, centuries ago, beer was consumed on a daily basis as a source of hydration and nourishment.
Back in those times many of the water sources close to villages and towns were often polluted to the point where consumption would likely result in illness or, worse still, death. Alcohol offered an (almost) germ free alternative.
So, to be faced with a beer drought was nothing short of disastrous.
Brigid knew exactly what to do. She asked God for help and He answered her prayer. The bathwater was miraculously turned into beer and not just any beer, but a genuinely brilliant beer that was enjoyed by one and all!

Obviously this secured her reputation, not least because she was fond of beer herself! Lest it be thought she acted as much out of self-interest as well as those in need, she is thought to have written a prayer/ poem about giving God his Divine Share!
The version we have here is from the 10^th Century and some doubt that she wrote it but it’s always unwise to doubt a Saint, especially a lady one!

St. Brigid’s Prayer

(Poem attributed to St. Brigid herself)

I’d like to give a lake of beer to God.
I’d love the heavenly
Host to be tippling there
For all eternity.
I’d love the men of Heaven to live with me,
To dance and sing.
If they wanted, I’d put at their disposal
Vats of suffering.
White cups of love I’d give them
With a heart and a half;
Sweet pitchers of mercy I’d offer
To everyone.
I’d make Heaven a cheerful spot
Because the happy heart is true.
I’d make all contented for their own sake.
I’d like Jesus to love me too.
I’d like the people of heaven to gather
From all the parishes around.
I’d give a special welcome to the women,
The three Marys of great renown.
I’d sit with the men, the women and God
There by the lake of beer.
We’d be drinking good health forever
And every drop would be a prayer.

[Mr G]