St Aidan and the saints of Lindisfarne

August evokes memories of sunshine, family holidays and timeless long summer evenings and holds the beautiful feast of the Assumption of Our Lady. The preface of the liturgy for the Assumption says “for today the Virgin Mother of God was assumed into heaven as the beginning and image of your church’s coming to perfection and a sign of sure hope and comfort to your pilgrim people”

In August a re-enactment of a Viking encampment is held within the ruins of the Benedictine priory on Holy Island in Northumberland. The original priory established by St Aidan stood at the site of the current parish church and was destroyed by the Viking invasion in 793.The later priory was re-established in 1093 until the suppression of the monasteries in 1536. This encampment has impressive attention to detail, in the costumes worn, the activities, the armour, woodwork and crafts on display, all different facets of this particular society which shows the influence of the Vikings through conquest and trade and visiting these ruins also gives an insight into the structure and life of the monastery.

St Aidan and the saints of Lindisfarne are commemorated this month, willing exiles in a strange land, a truly pilgrim people. St Bede described St Aidan as a man of simplicity, poverty, with a love of prayer and the scriptures. Holy Island has been called the cradle of Christianity in England and this influence is seen clearly in the local area and in the wider world. The Lindisfarne gospels are renowned as a treasure-trove of art and sacred heritage, famous for the intricate detailed work on every page.

On the feast of the Assumption a few years ago I walked the posts to Lindisfarne, along the ancient pilgrim’s way which has been mapped out for centuries, tried and tested, a row of rugged posts which mark the way across the sands in this mysterious place where man gives way to nature and the tides and seasons. There is a deep tangible spirituality here, experienced in the landscape, in the marks of faith which are visible here. People have been persistently drawn to this sacred place across the centuries. A pilgrim experience, where we are led into a different time and place and space, drawn to a different rhythm, a different perception of time, a different way of being. To travel here takes preparation, knowledge, trust, and being equipped for the journey but it is made easier because someone before us has built the road, someone has set the posts to map the way, someone has built the harbour for the boat so that people can come ashore more easily.

Monasteries have this pull, this drawing power, this spiritual harbour. There is a welcome and guidance towards a destination. Pilgrimage is a conscious journey, a following of the path and trying to discover our direction. Sacred places are beacons in this journey. It is a walk on the wild side, a leap of faith in some ways, but also a connection with something deep rooted and secure, something built on rock; we are led by example.

Within the monastic life there is a stability, an order, a rule of life which still attracts and is still respected. This rule holds wisdom learnt over centuries and a compassionate understanding of people and our human weaknesses and foibles and needs. The rule is a guided map like the pilgrim posts, persistently visible whatever the state of the tides, stable and enduring, there to help us on our way. This life is built on the fundamental tenets of peace and love, the searching of the human heart for God, for peace and tranquillity which draws us to quiet places, to sacred spaces, which takes us on pilgrimage, which draws us to mystery and draws us to those who know this, who live this, who keep the wisdom, the heritage, the knowledge of truth alive.

The monastic tradition is an ancient calling to the desert, to the wild places, the wilderness but also essentially to each other, in honesty and in truth. It endures against the tides, the winds, the storms and the buffeting waves because it is built on love. The monastery on Lindisfarne may not be actively inhabited now but the ground is sacred and the history remains, the faith remains and this is shared within the landscape of its existence. We travel there for different reasons, as with our own monasteries, but we are all pulled like the tide.

Sarah Richards

Oblate of Prinknash