St Columba, like most of the Celtic saints, is often viewed through a rose-tinted mist; devoted to prayer, the quintessence of kindness, and proto-environmentalists with a deep love of the natural world. In truth these were warrior-saints deeply rooted in and shaped by the Celtic warrior culture. They viewed themselves as being in a battle with the devil and his hordes of demons and that sense of being engaged in a very real conflict shaped everything about them. You can see some reflection of that in The Rule of St Columba: ‘Take not of food till thou are hungry. Sleep not till thou feelest desire… Thy measure of prayer shall be until thy tears come; or thy measure of work of labour till thy tears come…’ Clearly a world away from contemporary versions of ‘Celtic spirituality’.
According to the Venerable Bede, Columba ‘came to Britain to preach the word of God to the kingdoms of the northern Picts.’ However, St Columba came to Britain as an exile not as a missionary and preaching the word of God to the northern Picts was almost certainly not one of his chief aims.
Around 560AD a battle was fought between the army of King Diarmait, High King of Ireland, and St Columba’s clan, the Northern Uí Néill; by birth St Columba was a prince of the Northern Uí Néill and could well have gone on to become king had he not entered the religious life. Exactly what part Columba played in inciting the Battle of Cúl Dreimhe is uncertain but one of the best-known stories involves a Bible. It’s said that during a visit to Rome, Pope Pelagius had given one of Columba’s teachers, St Finnian of Moville, a copy of St Jerome’s translation of the Bible. On a visit to his teacher, Columba secretly set about making himself a copy of this rare and precious translation. When Finnian discovered what his former pupil was up to a huge dispute erupted, which they both agreed to take to King Diarmait to be resolved. The High King’s judgement went against Columba, and angrily determined that justice had not been done he stirred his clan to battle. It’s possible that Columba himself took part in the conflict as he was marked with a livid scar throughout his life.
Although St Columba’s clan won the battle, the clans and clergy of Ireland were outraged at the huge loss of life and felt that the Northern Uí Néill were responsible for the suffering that had been caused. A synod was called at which Columba was excommunicated but the judgement was overturned on the understanding that he would leave Ireland and go into exile.
Some traditions have it that a penitent St Columba set out to save as many souls for Christ as had been killed in the battle. Perhaps that’s true, but it’s more likely that in the first instance his mission was a diplomatic one. Scotland at that time was divided between the kingdom of Dál Riata, which was an expanding Irish colony, and the territories of the northern Picts. Just a couple of years before Columba was exiled from Ireland the Pictish King Bruide fought and killed King Gabhran of Dál Riata and reclaimed much of the territory that had been lost to the colonists.
Iona, where Columba and his followers founded their monastery, was more or less on the border between the territories of Dál Riata and the Northern Picts. Furthermore, as a member of the Northern Uí Néill ‘royal family’, St Columba was related to the Kings of Dál Riata. It’s likely that St Columba’s relationship with the Picts was more akin to that of an ambassador seeking to bring reconciliation where there were conflicts and at the same time trying to protect the interests of his kinsfolk. Given that he himself had been exiled for his violent refusal to be reconciled with St Finnian and King Diarmait, it seems fitting that he was to give so much of his life striving to reconcile others and foster peace.
Reconciliation was also a significant part of the spiritual service that St Columba and the monks of Iona sought to offer. Many of those who came to the island came as penitents seeking absolution, and the path to absolution could be hard one on Iona. Some of the penitents were sent to the Columban monastery on the island of Tiree as a penance for their sins, and sometimes they were sent there for many years. Yet however ‘tough’ the remedy with which St Columba treated sick souls, there is also something of the ‘gentle Columba’ to be seen in many of his encounters with those who sought his counsel; we see someone with a real insight into the sufferings of the human heart, and with a deep compassion for those sufferings.
The pilgrimage I’ll be starting in just over a fortnight is shaped by the legacy of a man who was sent into exile as a penitent, and those will be three of the themes I want to try to explore on this journey: exile, penitence and pilgrimage.
No comments:
Post a Comment