Garden Retreat

8 June 19 | Posted in Garden, Saints, Spirituality

For me, God and Nature are intricately bound. I feel God in a storm. I am in awe of God in a mountain. But I love God in the serenity of a garden. My restless soul is at peace in its borders.

I had originally planned to construct a “Biblical herb garden” or a monastery herb garden, but I dispensed with the raised bed and the limited selection of herbs. I wanted to include tomatoes and peppers, so good to eat in summer. The borders are rocks and old bricks or pieces of brick I picked up during walks along Peconic Bay.  I threw in some oyster shells and interesting pieces of driftwood. 

My garden is a balance of religion and whimsy– full of herbs, gnomes, saints, cement ducks, vegetables and sayings by spiritual people. The quotes serve to remind me of Catholicism’s spiritual connection to Nature, and the presence of God in everything around us. My favorites are:  “We always plant better than we know.” – Sr. Julia McGroaty, a founder of Trinity College, Washington, DC (my alma mater). “God is a God of Surprises.” – Pope Francis.  “Remember who you are and whose you are.” – Sr. Thea Bowman, a religious woman I admire for her courage, patience, and faith.  I hope she is named a saint.

St. Bega and Her Holy Arm Ring

16 April 19 | Posted in Saints, Supernatural

St. Bega is an ancient Irish saint whose life is steeped in legend and mystery.  She lived between 700-900 A.D., probably closer to 850 AD and the time of Viking settlement in Ireland.  Bega was the daughter of an Irish king.  She is described as beautiful, virtuous and learned.  Her father had promised her to the son of the King of Norway, but Bega had no intention of marrying.  She consecrated her virginity to Christ.  According to one story, an angel presented Bega with an arm ring inscribed with the cross as a token of her sacred promise.  Arm rings were usually worn by men, not women.

On the night of her wedding Bega was desperate to escape.  All the doors in the palace were locked, and the strongest men of Ireland standing guard, “each with a dagger over his thigh, a double-edged axe over his shoulder and a spear in his hand.” (Very phallic symbols!) After a lengthy invocation by Bega, a holy voice directs her out of the palace while everyone else is drunk at a feast. All of the locks yield at the touch of the holy arm ring, and a boat is waiting for her at the shore.  In another account, Bega is transported across the Irish Sea by a clod of soil.  She arrives safely on the English coast at Cumbria. Settling there, Bega lived in strict seclusion in a hut she built in a grove of trees near the seashore.  She survived on food brought to her by seagulls and gannets.

After some years passed Viking pirates began to raid the coast.  Fearing rape and the loss of her virginity, Bega left her hermitage and traveled inland.  On the advice of King Oswald (later St. Oswald), she professed her religious vows, and established a monastery at St. Bees in Cumbria. 

What became of her magical arm ring?  In one story she leaves her arm ring behind as a future source of miracles. In another her arm ring was preserved as a holy relic at St. Bees.  St. Bega is credited with restoring the sight of a blind Irish boy; gifting a Galloway horse thief with an ass full of arrows, and killing by a disfiguring disease a detachment of soldiers who raped a nobleman’s virgin daughter.

The Registry of St. Bees’ Priory records the swearing of oaths on the “Bracelet of St. Bega” through 1279, and offerings to the arm ring were made as late as 1516.

The arm ring may have disappeared during King Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries in the 1540s; or, it may have been looted by the Scottish knight, Lord James Douglas during a raid in 1315.

Read more about St. Bega on these sites:

Esmeralda’s Cumbrian History and Folklore

St. Bees Village Website

St. Bega – Cumbria and Borders

Baldy Blog – St. Bees Priory

 

St. Colman and His Ducks

22 January 19 | Posted in Animals, Arts and Letters, Saints

There are seven St. Colmans from Ireland.  St. Colman of the ducks legend came from Connacht.  He served at the old church of Templeshanbo in County Wexford, three miles east of Mt. Leinster.  A few hundred feet from the church is a holy well that was venerated in ancient times.  At the time of St. Colman, a pond was close to the well.  St. Colman was a contemporary of St. Aidan, who appointed him Abbot of Templeshanbo.  St. Colman died on October 27, 595.  His ducks stayed close to the church and pond for many, many years after.  

Gerald of Wales in his Topography of Ireland recorded the stories of St. Colman and his sacred teals almost 600 years after the death of the saint. According to folklore, the ducks could not be harmed.  Illustrations on the lower part of Gerald’s manuscript depict the ducks taking food from the saint, a kite paralyzed by attempting to take a duck as prey and a fox choking on one of the birds.

Gerald of Wales, also called Giraldus Cambrensis was born in 1146.  He was an archdeacon, royal clerk and historian. Gerald entered into the service of King Henry II of England in July 1184.  He visited Ireland on a military expedition (1185-86) with Henry’s son, the future King John.  As a result of the trip he wrote Topographia Hibernica (Topography of Ireland) in 1188 and Expugnatio Hibernica (Conquest of Ireland) in 1189.  

The Historical Works of Giraldus Cambrensis, published in 1905, combined both volumes in one book.  It was translated by Thomas Forester, Sir  Richard Colt Hoare and edited by Thomas Wright. The story below is taken from the book.

                     CHAPTER XXIX – Of St. Colman’s Teal, Which Were Tamed by Him, And Cannot Be Injured

There is in Leinster a small pool frequented by the birds of St. Colman, a species of small ducks, vulgarly called teal. Since the time of the saint these birds have become so tame that they take food from the hand, and until the present day exhibit no signs of alarm when approached by men. They are always about thirteen in number, as if the formed the society of a convent. As often as any evil changes to befall the church or clergy, or the little birds themselves, or any molestation is offered to them, they directly fly away, and, betaking themselves to some lake far removed from thence, do not return to their former haunts until condign punishment has overtaken the offenders. Meanwhile, during their absence, the waters of the pond, which were very limpid and clear, became stinking and putrid, unfit for the use of either men or cattle. It has happened occasionally that some person fetching water from this pond in the night-time, has drawn up with it one of the birds, not purposely but by chance, and having cooked his meat in the water for a long time without being able to boil it, at last he found the bird swimming in the pot, quite unhurt; and having carried it back to the pond, his meat was boiled without further delay.  

It happened, also, in our time, that Robert Fitz-Stephen, with Dermot, king of Leinster, was passing through that country, an archer shot one of these birds with an arrow.  Carrying it with him to his quarters, he put it in a pot to be cooked with his meat, but after thrice supplying the fire with wood, and waiting til midnight, he did not succeed in making the pot boil, so that after taking out the meat for the third time, he found it as raw as when he first placed it in the pot. At last, his host observing the little bird among the pieces of meat, and hearing that it was taken out of this pond, exclaimed with tears: “Alas me, that ever such a misfortune should have befallen my house, and have happened in it!” Thereupon the meat being put alone into the pot, was cooked without further difficulty. The archer soon afterwards miserably expired.

Moreover, it chanced that a kite, having carried off one of these little birds, and perched with it in a neighbouring tree, behold, all of his limbs immediately stiffened in the sight of many persons, nor did the robber regard the prey which he held in his claws. It also happened that one frosty season a fox carried off one of these birds, and when the morning came, the beast was found in a little hut on the shore of the lake which was held in veneration from its having been formerly the resort of St. Colman, the bird being in the fox’s jaws, and having choked him.  In both cases the spoiler suffered the penalty of death, while his prey was unhurt, the birds returning to the lake without the slightest injury, under the protection of their holy patron.  

Read more –

Wonders of Ireland – St. Colman’s Ducks

My Albion – The Teal of St. Colman

St. Gobnait – Patron Saint of Bees and Beekeepers

11 November 18 | Posted in Animals, Garden, Saints

St. Gobnait is a patron saint of bees and beekeepers.  Her fondness for bees suggests a calm and gentle nature. Tradition associates her with St. Abban and suggests she lived during the 6th century.

Gobnait was born in County Clare, but fled to Inis Oirr (Inisheer) the smallest of the Aran Islands to escape a family feud. There an angel appeared to her and told her to continue her journey until she should come to a place where nine deer were grazing. The angel told her this would be the “place of her resurrection.”

She traveled south in search of this place and her many stops are marked by churches and holy wells dedicated to her.  At various stages of her journey Gobnait met with deer of varying numbers but it was only when she reached Ballyvourney in County Cork that she found the nine deer.  They were grazing together on a rise overlooking the River Sullane and looking towards the Derrynasaggart Hills.  This is where she settled, died and was buried “to await her resurrection.”  The “resurrection place” is where the soul leaves the body.  Celtic lore believed the soul left the body as a bee or butterfly.

St. Abban is said to have worked with her on the foundation of the convent and placed St. Gobnait over it as abbess.  The nuns must have kept bees, since there are many stories about bees associated with the saint.  In one story she cured one of her sick nuns using honey. Many accounts exist of how St. Gobnait prevented raiders or robbers from stealing cattle.  Gobnait commanded the bees from the convent hives to drive them away. When a plague threatened the people, Gobnait walked to the village border and drew a line in the earth with her walking stick.  The pestilence halted before reaching Ballyvourney.

The local chieftains, the O’Herlihys sought her help in a border war.  One of her hives into a bronze helmet and the bees turned into soldiers.  The O’Herlihys handed down the bronze helmet from one generation to another until it was lost in the 1700s.  Another version has the beehive turning into a bell which then became Gobnait’s Bell.

For more on St. Gobnait:  Pilgrimage in Medieval Ireland and Pixie’s Pocket.

I’m Like a Fish – St. Umilta of Faenza

30 October 18 | Posted in Arts and Letters, Saints, Spirituality

I’m like a fish resting in the ocean. The waves rush over the little fish, and the great storms buffet; but this fish goes on swimming, knowing capture is impossible, and the storms just make this fish leap with more agility.

That’s what I do in this world that is a troubled sea. The great currents arrive, and I sail below them. I take shelter in You, God, and let them pass by. Then my soul finds wings in the two arms of Christ on the cross, and I rush up, Jesus, into your protection and saving grace.

When I stop and remember that I’m with You, I don’t fear the currents, I conquer them by navigating through them in Your Peace, and I come out of all storms unharmed.

St. Umilta of Faenza, (1226-1310), Sermons