The Celtic Roots of Benedictine Spirituality

Last month, the abbot of the Benedictine Monastery in Hawaii, Fr. David, invited me to come and speak with the community and oblates. The oblates meet once a month for education and for training. I enjoy having the opportunity to speak with folks, and to share with them aspects of the Celtic tradition. This is an important story, and I am happy to share it. I weaved my presentation around the theme of "The Celtic Roots of Benedictine Spirituality". That subject allowed me to share some of the history and background of Celtic Christianity and to touch on many of the overlaps between both spiritual traditions. In one sense we're cousins, and Celtic spirituality played a role akin to John the Baptist, helping to prepare the way.

First of all, the monastery is located in the most perfect of settings; atop the mountains on the North Shore. One has to pass fields of sunflowers, and scores of peacocks and horses, before finally arriving at the monastery itself. Second, the community is so very welcoming and friendly. This is a perfect setting to have a retreat, or spiritual day away from one's usual daily chores. I met one woman who had been on retreat and you could tell that she loved the place, and was somewhat reluctant about returning home. If you could see the place, you would understand! If your in Hawaii, or even visiting, you should go.

I closed the presentation by citing some passages from Morris Berman's The Twilight of American Culture (2000), a stinging criticism of American pop culture. In this book, Berman finds the model of the Celtic Church, with its emphasis on learning and education, as a potential model to combat what he refers to as "McWorld", a mindless consumer driven world, that has no other goal in sight than consumption.

The quote is worth citing in full:

"The traditional view-which is at least partly correct-is that during the sixth and seventh centuries, when the lights were going out, monasteries, especially Irish ones, began to stow away the nuggets of intellectual achievement from Roman civilization, and to a lesser extent, Greece. By 700, writes the British historian Hugh Trevor-Roper, "European learning had fled to the bogs of Ireland". While Europe was sacked by Goths, Arabs, and Vikings, a few scholars such as the Venerable Bede (circa 673-735; lived at the Jarrow monastery in Northumbria) preserved a knowledge of the classics, carrying the seeds of Western life "through the grim winter of the Dark Ages". In the seventh century alone, two hundred monasteries were founded in Gaul". (pg. 77)

In other words, monasteries, monks, and oblates, hold a key to the future. They can help claim back a predominantly pagan culture by keeping the learning going, and in remaining true to our Western intellectual and cultural foundations. In this way, classical learning triumphs over political correctness, with the emphasis on the "new monastic" person, the "inner monk", which we all are called to develop. In so doing, each person will reject the false values of our time, and work to preserve the historical treasures of our Christian civilization. To quote David Knowles, that great historian of monasticism, the monasteries "became centres of light and life in a simple, static, semi-barbaric world, preserving and later diffusing what remained of ancient culture and spirituality". (pg 78)

There is hope for our time, and it lays nestled in churches and the monastery. What wonderful irony! A pearl laying there like a hidden treasure. There is a model that has worked in the past, in similiar times to our own. That model is none other than the Celtic monastery, and Celtic Christianity.

Many thanks to members of the Benedictine community and the oblates for their warm and hospitable welcome!

How can monks marry?

Oftentime people are confused when they learn that I am a Christian priest who is also married. "How can this be?" says the puzzled look on their face. And yet you could say the very same thing regarding this blog. "How can a monk be married?"

Good questions. The explanation to these questions is really quite simple. Celtic monasticism (and Christianity for that matter) was quite a different "brand" than that of the Roman kind. See my earlier blog entitled "Culture Clash" for a longer discussion. Remember that much of Ireland was influenced by the monks of the Eastern desert, particularly the writings of John Cassian. When this "brand" of the faith, returned to Ireland, it blended into with other local cultural understandings and ways of doing things, just as it has whereever it is taken, and that is not necessarily a bad thing.

We also need to thing differently when we hear the word "monastery". The Celtic notion of "monastery" was worlds different than the typical medieval monastery which existed in Europe. Unlike Latin Christianity, which often had a large stone monastery, and a huge church with flying buttresses and cloisters, the Celts had nothing of the kind. A monastery to them, was something like a monastic village. The village, or small town would be enwalled, a wall on a lesser scale than say St. Andrews, or York. Inside the walls, there would be huts, wooden buildings, and of course clochans, those stone beehive huts famously linked with Celtic Christianity.  And quite cleverly, the Celts built these small communities in strategic places, so that they could also be places of influence, and be places for strangers, seekers, and passerbys to go. Monasteries open to the public-sounds Celtic to me!

As you can expect, the Celtic understanding of religious orders was also different and at odds with Latin Chrisitianity. And perhaps it was this which really jazzed the Latin church, so much that it would send over St. Augustine to basically clean house. For most of Christendom, religious orders consisted of deacon, priest, and Bishop, with the Bishop top dog. This was not the case in Eire. There, the abbot (there's that monastic influence again) was number one, and the Bishop was often relegated to evangelical duties. Perhaps due to the close knit communities and tribes and clans, these distinctions may have seemed artificial. Anyway, what resulted was a wider range of religious orders and offices. So here, monks could marry, clergy could marry, and women such as Brigit could be Bishops, over a thousand years before the rest of Christendom ever began seriously considering these issues.

The history of the Christian church of one filled with the  themes of both freedom and structure. I've always like the notion that more is better, and in this case I think that is true. The church today needs to rethink the way it's conceives of clergy and how its trains clergy. A good place to see how things can be different is to look at the example of the early Celtic Church, which was way ahead of it's time.

The Synod of Whitby: Culture Clash

A pivotal moment for Celtic Christianity took place in 644 at the Synod of Whitby, a small coastal town in Northern England. At this time, a Synod gathered and heard the claims of both Celtic and Roman followers. The Roman camp came out on top, and the Celtic perspective ever so gradually faded away-at least in structure. (But as evidenced in any contemporary bookstore, the spirituality has carried on). On a deeper level, the Celtic-Roman conflict was a culture clash; one culture deeply rooted in nature, mysticism, and small rural communities or clans; the other, urban centered, driven by a powerful institutional church, and rational based theology.

How did Celtic and Roman Christianity differ? For one, Celtic Christianity was somewhat unstructured, and comfortable being so. Celtic independence, sometimes bordering on the eccentric, was demonstrated with an inclination to wander from place to place. Celtic monks basically wandered through Europe, creating learning centers, and teaching. Celtic Christianity was also different in that it was built around the monastery and abbey, and not the Cathedral, or Bishop. In Celtic communities, the Abbot reigned supreme. In the Celtic view, a Bishops role was evangelical rather than administrative. To the Roman, Latin based Christian, the Celtic way, seemed of a different time and age, perhaps a passing age, a rural way, full of small clans, small stone beehive shaped chapels, and people who both loved and lived off the land. Put another way, it was a barn based vs. a building based Christianity.

Two key areas of disagreement-which seem insignificant now in our age of ecumenism-were of tonsure and the date of Easter. The Celts accepted a form of tonsure which they had adopted from the Druids. They shaved the front part of their heads from ear to ear, allowing the hair to grow on the back. By contrast, the Roman tonsure, like that of Friar Tuck, was a shaved circle on the head surrounded by some hair. The Celts, pointed out rightly I think, that the Roman tonsure was a sign of the aristocracy, whereas the Celtic tonsure was the sign of a slave. A more real concern, was over the correct date to celebrate Easter. The Council of Nicea in 325, had determined the proper way to date Easter, but practices still were not uniform throughout Christendom. This is understandable as we are talking about huge distances between countries, as well as diverse people, and languages. The Celts had adopted many local customs. The Celtic celebration came from a grafting of Easter onto the pagan spring feast of Beltaine, which was held around May 2. The Roman branch wanted the Celts to get "with the program" of the rest of Christendom.

It’s a shame that at Whitby, as many other points in church history, that compromise could have prevailed. The Roman Church, perhaps more proactive, and more politically astute, sought to create a wider base of authority. It was for this reason Augustine (not to be confused with the African Augustine) was sent to Kent in 597 to spread the arms and ears of Rome throughout the country. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before both Celtic and Roman missions crossed paths.
When the sides first meet, there was opportunity to work together. According to the historian the Venerable Bede, the Celts originally opened their arms to their Christian brothers and were open to dialog. Bede tells a wonderful story in The Ecclesiastical History of the Celtic Churches readying to welcome Augustine. The Celtic delegation consulted a Druid hermit on how they should proceed. He told them that should Augustine stand and welcome them, they would know that he would be open to them and accept them as equals. If he stayed seated, beware. As it turned out, Augustine remained seated, and the Celts were naturally suspicious.

In almost fairy tale like fashion, matters came to a head when King Oswyld of Northumbria sought to be married to Queen Eanfred. Oswyld had spent some time at Iona and had been deeply moved by life in that monastic community. Queen Eanfred, originally was from Kent, held a Roman perspective. So while the king was feasting and keeping Easter, his wife was fasting and keeping Palm Sunday. For the peace of his kingdom, and the more immediate goals of saving his marriage, Oswyld called for a Synod to be held at Whitby in 644, where both sides could present their arguments.

The Synod was not really a synod in the normal use of the word, as it was not officially called by Rome. It was a "Witan", a council called by a king, and a political gathering of nobility and advisers at which the king would arrive at a decision and pass judgement. The spokesperson for the Celts was Coleman, Bishop of Lindisfarne. In turn, he was supported by the Abbess Hilda, and Cuthbert, who was prior of Melrose. The Roman cause was upheld by Wilifred, abbot of Ripon. An interesting side note, is that Wilifred had once been a student at Lindisfarne, but had parted with Celtic ways, and gone onto Rome for further training and education.

What accounts we have of the Synod, also come down to us through Bede’s The Ecclesiastical History. According to Bede, Coleman was allowed to present the Celtic case first. He stated the "customs I observe were taught me by my superiors, who sent me here as a Bishop, and all our forefathers, men beloved of God, are known to have observed these customs". Coleman went onto add that the date of Easter came from John’s gospel. Winifred responded "Our customs are those that we have seen universally observed in Rome, and by men of different nations and languages...the only people who stupidly contend against the whole world are those Scots and their partners in obstinacy, the Picts and Britons".

Not the kindest of words, but it was game, set, match! To no one’s surprise, King Oswyld decided in favor of the Romans. Colman, we are told, returned to Ireland bitter and defeated. Yet not all Celts disagreed with the outcome, and many viewed the result as inevitable. Cummian, an Irish abbot, remarked, "What thing more perverse can be felt of our church that if we say, "Rome is wrong, Jerusalem is wrong, Antioch is wrong, the whole world is wrong: only the Irish and the Britons know what is right, these peoples who are almost at the ends of the earth, and you might say, a pimple on the chin of the world".

What lessons, if any can we learn from a Synod which took place almost 1500 years ago? I would say that what was destructive about the Synod was that a particular "perspective" or "brand" was lost. Celtic Christianity no doubt thrived and almost single handedly contributed to the Renaissance of Europe rescuing it from the Dark Ages. What was sad, is that it was essentially attacked in the name of uniformity. Perhaps another lesson, is that the church needs to be more respectful of local native cultures and traditions. The need to adopt and adapt is important and healthy. This is something I have keenly observed in Hawaii, with the customs of Polynesians and Micronesians. Churches should feel free to introduce local worship customs including the hula, and natives languages as a way of enhancing worship.

Celtic Christianity "officially" ended at the Synod of Whitby. However, almost fifteen centuries later, Celtic Christianity and spirituality remain wildly popular and alive, appreciated by both Protestant and Catholic alike, all over the world. It is a spirituality which takes into account the heart, and imagination, as well as the world. These converging trends play to the strength of Celtic Christianity, which at its heart is ascetic, mystical, and visionary.