A-Z of Saints: Edmund

Edmund the Martyr (c840-870) was a king of East Anglia, succeeding to the throne when he was still a teenager as successor to Offa. It is likely that he was descended from the previous kings of the region, but one tradition asserts that he was of Saxon origin and had been born in Nuremberg. This story also tells that he landed at Hunstanton in 855 to claim the kingdom.

Little is known of the main years of his life, other than a reputation for being a good ruler, unswayed by flattery, and apparently withdrew for a year to a tower at Hunstanton to learn the whole Psalter by heart. His first biographer, Abbo of Fleury (945-1004) – who supposedly heard of Edmund’s life through St Dunstan, who in turn had met Edmund’s own standard-bearer – described Edmund as ‘wise and worthy’, ‘humble and virtuous’. It is only in the year of his death, 870, that we hear more.

In that year the Danes, led by Ubba (or Hubba) and Ivar the Boneless (or Hinguar, boneless or otherwise) invaded East Anglia via Mercia, having wintered at York, and set up camp in Thetford. Edmund’s army fought them valiantly, but were unable to repulse them and the Danes summoned a much larger armer to join their ranks and Edmund was captured on his way to Framlingham having refused to agree to the Danes’ terms (he had also disbanded his troops to avoid a massacre), which included him becoming their vassal. Abbo writes that Edmund sent a message to Ivar: ‘Never in this life will Edmund submit to Ivar the heathen war-leader, unless he submit first to the belief in the Saviour Christ which exists in this country.’

His captors chained him and demanded that he renounce his Christian faith, which he refused to do. He was then beaten, tied to a tree somewhere near Hoxne and whipped, but continued to assert his faith and call upon Jesus. The Danes then fired arrows at him ‘until he was entirely covered with their missiles, like the bristles of a hedgehog’, but he continued to pray nonetheless, and he was finally beheaded.

When the Danes had departed from the woods where this took place, the local people found their king’s body, but not the head. The legend, as told by Abbo, runs that they searched the woods crying ‘Where are you now, friend?’ and the head answered ‘Here, here, here’. The remains were interred at Beadoriceworth, which later became the abbey settlement of Bury St Edmunds, famed for its shrine of ‘St Edmundsbury’.

Edmund’s memorial day is 20 November, the date of his martyrdom, and he is the patron of kings, wolves (a wolf was said to have guarded his severed head), torture victims and plague epidemics; he is represented by an arrow and sword, or a wolf. Little is left of his shrine now, as it was ruined in the Dissolution of the Monasteries, but in mediaeval times the abbey was one of the most powerful in England.

Edmund’s own significance to England’s early history is marked by his presence in the Wilton Diptych (in the National Gallery), the altarpiece which depicts Richard II being presented to the Virgin and child by three saints, St John the Baptist, St Edward the Confessor, and St Edmund the Martyr, holding an arrow.

Some other notable ‘E’ saints

  • St Edmund Campion (1540-1581) was a bookseller’s son who fled Elizabeth I’s England to become a Jesuit. He later returned to England and distributed pamphlets promoting Catholicism, for which he was arrested and hanged at Tyburn. His memorial day is 1 December; he was canonised in 1970.
  • St Edward the Confessor (1003-1066) became king of England in 1042, and was noted for his generosity and piety. He built Westminster Abbey, and was believed to be able to heal scrofula. His memorial is 13 October and he is patron of difficult marriages!

Rolling rightly

I’ve perhaps been unfair to Oxfordshire at times – I’m not hugely drawn to flat landscapes, but of course Oxon isn’t all flat. Last night H and I went for a marvellous, and very restorative, cycle through what for me is ‘proper’ countryside, rolling, woody and clucking. There was more than just clucking: as well as muntjacs, we saw a herd of alpacas and, best of all, a fleet of piglets came running across their field to see us.

A week or so ago M and I went to the Rollrights, too – another inevitably uplifting megalithic site, largely unspoilt, surrounded by cow parsley and views.

A-Z of Saints: Cosmas and Damian

There wouldn’t normally be ‘two saints for the price of one’, but Cosmas (or Cosmus) and Damian go inextricably together.

They were, in fact, twin brothers, born in Arabia, both doctors and famed for their healing in Cilicia (now Turkey).

A portrait of the saints from the 15th century depicts them conducting the world’s first leg transplant, based on a miracle after their deaths where they apparently replaced a Roman man’s leg with that of an Ethiopian!

The only source we have about them is a 13th century ‘bestseller’, the Golden Legend, where the Bishop of Genoa wrote: “They were learned in the art of medicine, and of leechcraft, and received so great grace of God that they healed all maladies and languors, not only of men but also cured and healed beasts…”

Their reputation grew not only for their prowess, but also for their refusal to charge for it, and thus they became known as “the silverless”.

Many of their patients became Christians as a result of their ministrations – such that under the emperor Diocletian’s (245-313) wave of persecution, the prefect Lysias, governor of Cilicia, arrested and tortured them.

The legend runs that the saints were unharmed by attempted drowning, fire and crucifixion, and ultimately had to be beheaded – along with three other brothers of theirs. (Both died circa 283-287.)

Their remains were buried in Cyrus, Syria, and the Christian emperor Justinian (527-565) made their church in Constantinople a place of pilgrimage, having been cured of an illness by their intercession.

Ointment

Cosmas and Damian became patron saints of pharmacists, apothecaries, doctors and surgeons, and are represented by a phial of ointment.

Their memorial day is either 26 or 27 September (1 July, 17 October and 1 November in Greek traditions). In Britain, it is notable that there are only five Anglican churches named after these saints. They are:

In London there is a Greek Orthodox church dedicated to the saints; overseas they are celebrated in churches in Germany, Croatia, Sardinia and Italy (including one in Rome).

Some other notable ‘C’ saints

  • Saint Columba (521-597) was the abbot of Iona – of royal descent, he was an Irish missionary who helped reintroduce Christianity to Scotland and the north of England. His feast day is 9 June. He is also the source of the first ever reference to the Loch Ness monster!
  • Saint Cuthbert (c634-687) became bishop at Lindisfarne after a period on the Farne Islands as a hermit. His body, found to be preserved years after his death, was stolen by the Danes in 875, and is now entombed in Durham Cathedral. His feast day is 20 March.
  • Saint Christopher (3rd century?) is of course the patron of travellers. He is important to the Orthodox churches although widely held elsewhere to be a figure only of legend – largely on account of the tales that he was 18 feet tall or a dog-headed cannibal!

Some other notable ‘D’ saints

  • Saint David (c512-587) is the patron of Wales and was from the royal family of Ceredigion. He founded monastic settlements in both Britain and Brittany, including one on the site what is now St David’s cathedral in Pembrokeshire. His feast is 1 March.
  • Saint Denis was the bishop of Paris who died around 250AD. He was beheaded on the hill now known as Montmartre, and one legend tells that he picked up his head and preached a sermon before dying where the St Denis Basilica stands today. His feast is 9 October.
  • Saint Dunstan (909-988) was an Archbishop of Canterbury, renowned for his cunning in outwitting the Devil. The service he created for King Edgar’s coronation still forms the basis of coronations to this day. He is the patron of goldsmiths and his feast day is 19 May.

A-Z of Saints: Brigid

St Brigid of Ireland (c453-c523), also known as St Bride or St Bridget, or indeed Mary of the Gael, was present when St Patrick himself was teaching.

Her mother, Brocca, was a Pictish slave whom Patrick had baptised. Brocca had been sold to a Druid landowner and put in charge of his dairy.

Brigid took charge and, despite giving away much of the produce, the dairy became such a success that her mother was freed.

Her father, meanwhile, was Dubtach, the pagan Scots King of Leinster. He had tried to sell his daughter, who often gave away his possessions too, but while he bargained with the Christian King of Leinster, she gave Dubtach’s prized sword to a leper.

The Christian King forbad her father from punishing her and declared “Her merit before God is greater than ours”. She was then given her own freedom. Legend has it that St Patrick (or perhaps his deputy St Mel) made a mistake when hearing her final vows, using the form for ordaining priests.

On realising his error, he observed that “she is destined for great things”. Another legend says that she prayed for her beauty to be taken away from her, and it was only restored after she had taken these vows.

Convent

Her great works began with the founding of a small convent, with just seven nuns at the foot of Croghan Hill. She gradually travelled across all of Ireland and started many convents elsewhere as well as the first ‘double monastery’ for both monks and nuns, in Kildare.

This became the “Church of the Oak” on account of the tree where it was built. Kildare eventually became a cathedral city and for centuries it was governed by a double line of bishops and abbesses.

She also founded a school of art, including metalwork and illumination, which produced the highly praised Book of Kildare, sadly lost in the Reformation. When she was dying, she was attended by St Ninnidh, who became “Ninnidh of the clean hand” after having his right hand encased in metal to prevent its being defiled thereafter.

Veneration

Brigid died in Kildare and her shrine became an object of veneration for pilgrims, especially on her feast day of 1 February. After Viking raids, her relics were later taken to the tomb of St Patrick and St Columba in Downpatrick, where they remain, although apparently a hand was removed to a Jesuit church in Lisbon.

Brigid’s name means ‘arrow of fire’ and she has often become conflated with the Celtic goddess of fire of the same name. One intepretation suggests that Brigid was in fact a pagan priestess who built a sanctuary at the oak of Kildare, and later converted to Christianity.

She is also known as the keeper of the Sacred Flame of Kildare, a fire that was kept burning for centuries and was later described by the historian and hagiographer Gerald of Wales.

Place names across Ireland and Britain such as Kilbride and Brideswell commemorate her, including London’s ‘printers’ and typographers’ church’ of St Bride.

As a result of her voyages she is a patron of travellers, sailors, nuns and even fugitives. She is also the patron saint of chicken farmers!

Other notable ‘B’ Saints

  • St Bartholomew was one of the twelve apostles of Jesus. Little is known about him but tradition has it that after witnessing the Ascension, he travelled to India where he left a copy of Matthew’s Gospel. His feast day is 24 August. He is believed to have been flayed alive in Armenia and thus became the patron saint of tanners.
  • St Benedict of Nursia (c480-543) is remembered as the founder of Western monasticism. Son of a Roman noble, he sought solitude but attracted others and established the Benedictine order through his famous Rule, dividing the monastic life into periods of sleep, prayer, reading, rest and labour. Among many others he is the patron of farmers and schoolchildren.
  • St Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) was a French abbot and scholar who became a leading figure of the Cistercian order of monks. He drew renown for his preaching and healing. He encourage King Louis VII to go on the Second Crusade and had considerable political influence at the time. He is the patron of beekeepers and candlemakers.

Strange pilgrims

H and I went to Walsingham a couple of weeks ago. I found it fascinating as a theological voyeur. The whole place turns on a series of fictions.

These began in the 11th century, when a Norman lady claimed to have a vision of the Virgin Mary – ever after known as Our Lady of Walsingham – and endowed a priory as a result. The truth is that at the time, there were no viable sites for humble Brits to go on pilgrimage (and weren’t until a troublesome priest in Canterbury was despatched). It was simply a marketing exercise by the church – which clearly worked brilliantly until Henry VIII sent Cromwell’s Dissolving Formula across the country.

Next stop is 1896, when a Catholic woman, Charlotte Boyd, bought the ruined 14th century Slipper Chapel and restored it, and suggested a pilgrimage to visit Our Lady (OLW) in her new home.

Jump now to the 1920s and 30s, when Anglican vicar Alfred Hope Patten secured land to build an *Anglican* shrine. It’s an extraordinary place – typical 1930s architecture, and beautifully done, though also startlingly mawkish.

While building it, they found a mediaeval well, which has since been used (along with rumours of healing properties) to bolster the sacred credibility of the site.

I suppose I’d be hard pressed to say what I would regard as an *unconstructed* site for pilgrimage, but Walsingham doesn’t even have some bones. Now legions of rotund sexagenarians travel from far and wide, all in fealty to an 11th century illusion.

I was there

A trip to the Design Museum, for the splendid You Are Here exhibition. A festival for geekish poring. Along with the inevitable Tube map delights, highlights for me included:
– Adrian Frutiger’s Symbols and Signs – Explorations foldout chart
– The works of Richard Saul Wurman, Otto Neurath (hurrah! my old chum Basic English) and Annegrete Moelhave
– John Adams’ 1679 map of road distances between UK towns and villages
– Joseph Priestley’s invention of “charts of biography”
– the unlabelled maps comparing metro networks across the world

Much Googling to be done, frankly, and much else of interest besides, but:
(a) no catalogue!!
(b) as J pointed out, er, didn’t the design of the exhibition (not to mention the dreadful Design Museum website as H has already observed) somewhat let down the premise. A major missed opportunity, given that the structure of the exhibition itself was so blurred.

I also discovered the works of Edward Tufte, which I shall be tracking down, especially his essay about PowerPoint being the death of reason, a long-cherished philosophy of mine.

A-Z of Saints: Aldhelm

Of the saints of Wessex, Aldhelm perhaps inspires the warmest feelings. He comes across as a man of many parts.

Born around 640, Aldhelm was a native, believed to be a relative of the Saxon king Ine. A precocious child, he was sent to Canterbury, where he was schooled in Latin and Greek, and studied under Abbot Adrian of St Augustine’s.

Aldhelm was Abbot of Malmesbury from around 683, shaping a loose monastic community into a proper Benedictine abbey, and founding other monasteries at Frome and Bradford-on-Avon. His Saxon church at Bradford still stands.

Stories say that he played the lyre on Malmesbury’s bridge in order to summon people to church – and, for that matter, that his sermons would sometimes involve singing and juggling in order to keep his audience’s attention. Perhaps, then, a saint for modern times… He is also said to have installed the first church organ in England in 700.

With music came verse: Aldhelm was regarded by King Alfred nearly two centuries later as one of the country’s finest vernacular poets. He wrote in both Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Latin, and his works also include a treatise on virginity.

Easter

One scholar has described him as the first Englishman to deserve being described as book-learned. And according to Jacon de Voragine’s Golden Legend of 1275, “Saint Aldhelm made a book that all men should know for ever when Easter day should fall.”

Many legends are told of Aldhelm in the area. In Bishopstrow near Warminster, a window in St Aldhelm’s Church depicts one of them. The story says he once preached for so long that his ash staff took root.

One panel of the window shows the king offering his own staff to the saint, and promising him land for a church as far as he can throw it – hence ‘Bishopstrow’ perhaps. At Malmesbury, Aldhelm built three churches, with one surviving. A legend tells of him praying over a roof beam that was too short: it lengthened, and later survived two fires.

Aldhelm is also said to have visited the Pope, Sergius I. He allegedly saved the Pope himself from scandal, by baptising a baby supposedly sired by the Pope and which then spoke of the Holy Father’s innocence!

In 705, Aldhelm was consecrated as Bishop of Sherborne, and he died at Doulting in Somerset four years later. A vision of him is said to have appeared to the Bishop of Worcester, who then took the body back to Malmesbury, setting up a cross at each place where the corpse rested, every seven miles. His day is the 25th of May

A well in Doulting is named after Aldhelm. One local tradition asserts that he would sit by the well and do penance, reciting the psalter. Tales are also told from Malmesbury that he would recite the psalter standing up to his neck in ice-cold water! The well is there to this day.

Another place of worship named after him is St Aldhelm’s Chapel at Worth Matravers in Dorset’s Isle of Purbeck. Poised on a beautiful promontary, this tiny vaulted chapel, in Norman style, is unusual in being square. A story tells that in 1140 a bride and groom were sailing past the headland watched by her father, when a storm arose and drowned them. The father is said to have built the chapel in their memory, with a light always kept burning to warn other sailors. The chapel is believed to have been a chantry, and was restored in 1974.

Some other notable ‘A’ saints:

  • Andrew, patron of Scotland, was of course the first apostle. He is patron of fishermen and unmarried women, and his day is 30 November.
  • Anthony (known as the Abbot or the Great) was the hermit who spent 20 years in an abandoned fort in the 4th century, whose temptations have been depicted countless times in Renaissance art. He was the father of western monasticism and is the patron of animals, gravediggers and monks, among many others. His day is 17 January.
  • Alban (20 June) was a soldier who became the first Christian martyr in Britain, beheaded in 305. He is the patron of converts, refugees and torture victims.

Credo non credo

I’ve decided that the time has come to explore and explain something, if only for myself.

On occasion I’ve described myself, both glibly and half-seriously, as a ‘High Church pagan atheist’.

High Church
I grew up in a fairly standard CofE environment (one parent a staunch believer, the other a staunch unbeliever) and am pretty familiar with it still. I love old churches and their atmosphere, and sometimes the CofE seems like a sanctaury of sanity for its broadmindedness and Englishness. It never fails to amaze me that our culture has embraced Christianity at all, sometimes, and I always get a weird feeling when I see serried ranks of old ladies chanting about ‘Gilead’ or ‘Nazareth’ or ‘Bethel’ and so on. What these dry, middle eastern places mean to our verdant culture is a mystery to me – but I’m getting ahead of myself – but there’s a comfort in repetition, at least. I’ve no time for evangelical churches, on both philosophical and aesthetic grounds. If it’s gotta be church, it’s gotta be highish (though, er, not Catholic, thanks). I think the sonorous mystique of some Latin, a whiff of incense and a tone of seriousness have a lot to offer the soul.

pagan
If I were to believe in anything, the genius loci wins hands down for me. I think churches offer a contemplative balm which is truly valuable, but nothing compares to a walk in the woods or a stride across a moor or a leap across a stream or the surge of a hill. I’m absolutely with Wordsworth here: One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Our culture here is rooted in paganism, which in some sense feeds materialism, which is both good and bad – the middle eastern death cult of Christianity has been here for a long time, but has never really grabbed the nation’s soul, I think. Our churches inhabit sacred sites of yore, our Christmases hijack Yule. I bet more people have Christmas trees than go to church.

atheist
I can’t really bring myself to believe in any non-material consciousness. God in all His glorious manifestations reeks of us, not of heaven. He should shave with Ockham’s razor. And much as I love the idea of nymphs and fauns and dryads and fairies and elves, they too remain in the ideosphere for me. If you want an explanation of the world, rationalism is the only way forward.

High Church pagan atheist
But an explanation of the world isn’t the only thing we want. We want comfort, a sense of connectedness, of pattern and of meaning. I think the answer to this is metaphor, and life would be hideously impoverished without it. God is a metaphor (a ‘comforting fiction’ or ‘foma’, as Kurt Vonnegut has it) which is useful to many, many people. Greek gods and Druidic spirits are metaphors, too, to explain our own behaviour or the environment we find ourselves in. In many ways, I find polytheistic or pantheistic theologies a lot more sensible than the one-stop-shop of monotheism. But they are all different ways of telling stories through the long dark teatime of the soul. I think Don Cupitt’s take on Christianity is the right one, although I would never call myself a Christian: while I believe it offers people powerful metaphors, I think other views offer better metaphors.

And don’t get me started on Buddhism.

Darned dogooder

I’ve been a fond reader of Utne for some time now, though occasionally I pass it by on account of the twee folksiness it can slip into. But there’s always something interesting. And I was pleased, while in the States, to pick up a copy of Cosmo Dogood’s Urban Almanac from the same stable. I like the idea of this: our lives are so citybound that we need to find an awareness of nature from within the metropolis rather than necessarily expecting to escape from it. Here in Oxford I have Port Meadow only yards away: but try stargazing there, and it’s compromised by the sky being orange.

The almanac has all kinds of daft lore in it, and lots of celebratory ideas. Again, there’s a bit of twee new agey stuff, but it’s a good idea, and one in harmony with a lot of things that Common Ground are into. In fact, I may tell them about it. (I’ve just discovered the latest site connected to them is a celebration of corrugated iron buildings!

Oh for more time to dwell on this sort of stuff, but I’ll *try*.

The Museum of Jurassic Technology

I’m not sure that LA is really my kind of place – but but but. It has the MJT (though the website can hardly do justice).

Think Sir John Soane’s museum on those candelit Tuesday nights. Think Dennis Severs’ house (though I *still* haven’t actually been there…). Now forget all that and think Borges and Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius. Think Voynich. Think Serafini. Now forget all that and bloody well get on a plane to LA.

The MJT is too good to describe, but suffice it to say it is an incredibly atmospheric coup de theatre, a satire on all museums, a confounding of epistemology, an aesthetic delight, and it’s next to a carpet warehouse.

This is definitely the best ‘museum’ I’ve ever been to, and I wish I had the money to set up something similar but different in Oxford. Give me a few million, someone, and I won’t let you down.