These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

William Tyndale (c.1494-1556), reformer of the Church

Born to a yeoman family in Stinchcombe, Gloucestershire, where Lollard influences appear to have survived, he studied in Magdalen Hall, Oxford from 1510-15, gaining an MA and being ordained, possibly in 1514. He appears to have met Erasmus when he was teaching in Cambridge, gaining from him a passionate commitment to translation of the Bible4 into the vernacular. For some 18 months, he lived with Sir John and Lady Walsh in Little Sodbury, possibly as a tutor, and took a lively part in the theological discussion in their home Suspected of unorthodoxy, he translated Erasmus’ Enchiridion to underline his Christian commitment. He needed episcopal support to translate the New Testament, but Bishop Tunstall of London refused that in late 1523.. Tyndale, however, had built up support among London merchants like Humphrey Monmouth, who later were to help to distribute his translations.

He went to Hamburg in early 1524 and later that year moved to Wittenberg. His New Testament translation was published in Cologne in 1525 and Worms in 1526 after narrowly escaping confiscation by the authorities.  Some copies reached England in 1526. Many were burnt and Sir Thomas More, in his Dialogue concerning heresies published in 1529, attacked numerous alleged errors in translation, claiming that English was not a suitable language for conveying theological truth. Tyndale forcibly replied the following year in Answer to More, to which More replied in his Confutation. Tyndale was living clandestinely in Antwerp, supported by some English merchants there. In addition to continuing his translations, he wrote on aspects of Christian discipleship in Parable of the wicked Mammon and Obedience of a Christian man in 1528 and Practice of prelates in 1530. For a time he was assisted by George Joye, but their partnership broke up because of deep differences over translation.

Thomas Cromwell made several attempts to contact Tyndale through Stephen Vaughan, but his attempts to persuade Tyndale to return home failed, because he did not trust the goodwill of Henry VIII. Fluent in Hebrew and Greek, Tyndale also made discerning use of Luther in Prologue to Romans (1528) the Pentateuch (153o), Jonah (1531), Genesis 1534). He was constantly frustrated by printing mistakes, but was an outstanding translator, putting the Scriptures into vivid and readily understandable English which still resonates with readers.

A sharp critic of the papacy and medieval formularies, he was constantly at the risk of arrest. Finally betrayed by Henry Phillips, he was imprisoned at Vilvorde near Brussels in May, 1534 on the orders of Henry VIII.  His trial for heresy was very comprehensive, but he continued to revise the New Testament and translate the Old Testament. He was strangled and burnt on 6 October, 1536.

Though sometimes abrasive personally, he could also be warm and generous in pastoral care.He demonstrated the positive features of Reformation discipleship.  His translations were incorporated into officially approved English Bibles up to the Authorised Version, so that his influence continued until late in the 20^th century.

by Rev Dr Ian Breward

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Helen Pearl Mackenzie (1913-2009), medical missionary and educator

HELEN Mackenzie, who was instrumental in bringing life and health to many mothers and babies, and training women doctors in obstetrics and gynaecology in postwar Korea, has died at an aged-care facility in Kew. She was 95.

Born in Pusan, Korea, the eldest daughter of five children of the Reverend James and Mary Mackenzie, missionaries of the Presbyterian Church, she was educated at the American Missionary School in Pyongyang, now the capital of North Korea. She completed her schooling with one year at Presbyterian Ladies College in Melbourne.

Helen and her younger sister, Cath, felt called to return to Korea as missionaries and from their childhood experience were convinced that they needed medical training. Helen studied medicine at Melbourne University, and with a friend during holidays she rode a bicycle once to Adelaide and twice to Sydney; they slept in barns and church halls along the way. In her pack was a dress and hat for when she attended church.

Helen graduated as one of the few women do so in medicine in 1938. World War II prevented her from going to Korea, but she gained invaluable experience at Queen Victoria Hospital in Melbourne, where she became acting medical superintendent. In 1944, Helen and Cath accepted a call from the Church of Christ in China and the following year they established a small hospital in an old Taoist temple in Jianshui, Yunnan. It took some time but the facility was accepted by the people; it was the only “Western medicine” within a three-day journey. Much to their sorrow, they had to leave in 1950 after the communist takeover, not knowing what would happen to the hospital. (In 2007, a colleague travelled to Jianshui and found that the hospital had continued to grow and was now a major part of the provincial hospital.)

On return to Australia, the Mackenzie sisters again hoped to go to Korea, but this time were frustrated by the Korean War. However, in 1951, they were appointed by the Australian Presbyterian Mission Board and in February 1952 eventually landed in Pusan, at that time a city of refugees with overwhelming medical needs. The Korean Ministry of Health and United Nations agencies advised them that the main need was for maternal and child health, something for which the sisters were well suited.

On September 17, 1952, Il Sin Women’s Hospital was opened in a kindergarten hall with 20 beds and a staff of five. The name “Il Sin” was chosen because it was the name of the pre-war Australian mission school, and very appropriate for an obstetric hospital as it means “Daily New”. There were two main objectives. One was to accept anyone who came, irrespective of that person’s ability to pay and regardless of their religion, or lack of any faith. This differed from the local system in which a person had to pay first, and the local church, which felt that a Christian hospital was primarily for Christians.

The Mackenzies, however, were convinced that through the healing ministry, God’s love should be to shown to all. The other main objective was to train women doctors in obstetrics and gynaecology, and nurses in midwifery.

At that time it was difficult for women doctors to get good post-graduate training, and with changes in nursing education, nurses were being given midwifery certificates along with their basic certificate, sometimes not even having seen a normal delivery. Through hard work and determination, using limited and basic resources, the Mackenzies, along with the Korean staff, built the hospital into one that was highly regarded throughout Korea for training and for expert care.

Helen was a brilliant surgeon and a great educator; although often tired given the constant load, she gave of herself for hours in the operating theatre or delivery room. When Helen retired in February 1976, 12 doctors had been trained in obstetrics and gynaecology – and since then another 120 have graduated. Other doctors have been trained in pediatrics, family medicine and anaesthetics, all women except for three or four. By last month, 2599 nurses had graduated as midwives, and 284,655 women delivered of their babies.

After she retired, Helen studied theology at the Melbourne College of Divinity, and wrote a biography of her father titled Mackenzie – Man of Mission (Hyland House, 1995). She also continued her love of music as someone who was able to play many instruments: tuba in her school band, then cello, clarinet, piano, and in her 70s she learnt to play the pipe organ.

Helen received many awards from the Korean Government and in 1962, along with Cath, she was awarded the MBE. In October 2002, she was awarded an honorary fellowship of the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists in recognition not only of her expertise in this field, although she had not received specialist training, but also of all that she did to train women in that specialty.

Helen is survived by her sisters Lucy Lane and Sheila Krysz, and their families.

Lucy Lane (Helen Mackenzie’s sister)

and Dr Barbara Martin (a colleague)

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Clare & Francis of Assisi, faithful servants

Francis of Assisi (c.1182-1226) and Clare of Assisi (c.1194-1253) are among the best-loved saints in the Christian tradition. Over the centuries they have captured the hearts and imaginations of men and women of all nationalities and creeds. People everywhere have been attracted to their manifest spirituality, their Christlike nature, and their genuine simplicity, devotion and compassion. Their lives are increasingly relevant to today’s world: in 1979 Pope John Paul II named Francis as ‘Patron Saint of Ecology’ and recent studies of Clare portray her not only as a fervent disciple of Francis but also as a new leader of women and ‘a light for our time’. Francis and Clare shared a similar vision—a love of the crucified Christ and a desire to lead a biblically-inspired, simple life modelled on the example of Christ in the Gospels. The chief characteristics of their spirituality may be treated under four headings: poverty, contemplation or prayer, mission and creation.

Francis and Clare embraced voluntary poverty because they wanted to imitate Jesus who had made himself poor for us (2 Cor. 8.9). Christ’s freely-chosen material poverty defined their whole manner of life. Francis’ understanding of poverty was shaped by Christ’s total obedience to the will of the Father. He saw in Jesus’ obedience a revelation of the humility of God. Clare, on the other hand, had a more ascetical understanding of poverty. She focussed her devotion on the ‘poor Christ’. For Clare, the spiritual life consisted of conforming oneself to the poor Christ by the observance of the most perfect poverty. Poverty was the door to contemplation. By living in poverty, Clare maintained, one might enter upon the ‘narrow’ way that leads to the kingdom of heaven. Following Christ’s example, both Clare and Francis vowed to use only that which was needed and to live without owning anything—no lands, no income, no saving up ‘for a rainy day’, no possessions beyond what was needed for daily life. Poverty was a source of their joy and freedom. It was a treasure to be sought, the ‘pearl of great price’.

Both Clare and Francis emphasized the close association between poverty and prayer (contemplation). For Clare, the ‘poor Christ’ was a mirror into which she gazes. She was awe-struck by the poverty of Him who was placed in the manger. She was overwhelmed by the mystery of God’s love that led Christ to suffer on the Cross. Her prayer gives us insight into her life of contemplation: ‘Gaze upon Him, consider (Him), contemplate Him.’ Her way of being was to be a mirror to others living in the world. Clare was careful to point out that no other work was to supersede the spirit of prayer and devotion. For Francis, however, contemplation was focused on the Eucharist. Participation in the Eucharist was tantamount to the apostles’ own experience of being with the earthly and incarnate Jesus. Thus, the mystery of the Eucharist enabled Francis to ‘see’ the poor and crucified Christ and to respond in a similar form of humility. The simple prayer that Francis taught his followers expresses his intense devotion to the Eucharist: ‘We adore You, Lord Jesus Christ, in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless You, for through Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world.’

Francis’ idea of poverty was also linked to his understanding of mission. In poverty Francis found a freedom that fostered reconciliation. In the spirit of poverty he urged his followers to adopt a simple, non-polemical style of missionary presence, to renounce any desire to dominate, and to minister mostly among the poor. Francis was accustomed to saying, ‘The poor are sacraments of Christ for in them we see the poor and humble Christ.’ When a brother asked if it were proper to feed some robbers, he responded affirmatively, for in every person he saw a possible thief and in every thief a possible brother or sister.

Finally, Francis’ concern for the environment was also shaped by his devotion to Christ. While the whole created order is a reminder of God’s goodness and to be received as gift, there are certain things that are worthy of our special love and care because they symbolise aspects of the nature and activity of Christ. Thus, rocks reminded Francis of the rock that was Christ, lambs of the Lamb of God, trees of the Cross, and lights of the Light of the World. In Francis’ magnificent hymn, the ‘Canticle of Brother Son’, he expresses his vision of a reconciled world that reflects the poor and crucified Christ. This, it is commonly said, is the deepest meaning of the Francis’ stigmata: his being becomes what he ‘sees’, he lives the life of Christ as literally as it is humanly possible.

Contributed by William Emilsen

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Henri Nouwen (1932-1996), faithful servant

Henri Nouwen was a well-known spiritualist and psychologist whose writings have been available to people in four continents. His teachings have helped seekers to develop authentic paths in providing space for others, for Christ to enter their lives and to make space for themselves.

During my studies at Yale Divinity School I was enrolled as a practical theology major, what we would recognize in Australia as Pastoral Theology. I took my first course taught by Henri in the Spring Semester of 1973. It was called “Ministry as Hospitality.” In that course we students did theological and personal exploration of God’s hospitality to us, how that spoke to our calling to ministry and how we, then, participated in the hospitality of Christ, which was about making space without conditions for others. We were also challenged about being open to the hospitality that we would receive in return. It was a way of recognizing that two people were both strangers in a hospitable space whereby we could offer and receive the gift of the other and no longer be “strangers”.

The hardest part for those of us ministry students out to save the world (or at least those that would eventually be in our pastoral care) was that Henri offered a teaching that challenged our perceived responsibility to change other people.

Instead he wanted us to step back while still being present and to offer others a space in which they could make change. It also meant that we had to be open to being changed by our “guest”.

Henri was a practical teacher. He wanted his students to experience what he was teaching, which included completely new (unfamiliar) ways of being a guest in order to understand how to be a host. One of those experiences was to accompany Henri for a week, in the middle of winter, to Mount Savior, a Benedictine Monastery near Elmira in Western New York State, about 440 km northwest of New York City. Having a fixed idea of what a monastery would look and be like, the first shock was to find that Mount Savior was a fully operational farm with each monk contributing skills that ensured its viability. Interwoven with looking after livestock (and winter work like repairing furniture or re-binding books) was the observance of worship called “vigils”. For a daughter of New England Congregationalism it was a new experience to slide in knee-deep snow down the long hill from the women’s guesthouse for the first vigil of the day, which in February was an hour before dawn. The monks made themselves available for conversations as well as providing spaces of quiet where we could learn to be available for God. Henri was their guest as we were.

Back at Yale Divinity School we would reflect often on that experience and others in learning what it mean to be hospitable in ministry as well as how to do hospitality in ministry. Henri shared with us what it meant to be “useless” for Christ. That is, not becoming trapped by the idea that our ministry to others was valid only if it was “useful” by the standards of contemporary life. This was my first “ministry formation” class—although that language was not used at that time.

Henri was my teacher and later an important friend in the time that followed my years at Yale. His letters to Harry and me during the time of our first child’s illness and death offered love and support and let us know that he felt our pain. Even after he left Yale we would hear from him by letters or through a mutual friend, Virginia (“Enie”) van Dooran, of his continued search for the spaces that would answer his own call to be host and guest in the name of Christ.

It remains important for us to hear Henri’s wisdom, to learn to live in the hospitable space he creates for us in the name of Christ, and to make that space available to others.

Contributed by Meg Herbert

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), person of prayer

Hildegard of Bingen, renowned for her spirituality in her day, was a German Benedictine abbess of the twelfth century. She was a poet, theologian, composer, artist, playwright, healer, visionary and advisor to eminent church authorities.  Hildegard was the tenth child of a noble family who, at age eight, went to live with the reclusive Jutta von Spanheim, at the monastery of Saint Disibod in Disibodenberg. She took her vows at 15 and on Jutta’s death in 1136 became leader of the convent.

Hildegard achieved fame when her remarkable work, Scivias, a record of her visions, was approved by Pope Eugenius who publicised it widely. Between 1147 and 1150, over the objections of the officials at Disibodenberg, Hildegard moved her community to Ruperstberg, near Bingen on the Rhine. In 1165, she founded a second convent at Eibingen.

Hildegard, despite frequent attacks of ill health, possessed extraordinary energy. During her long life she produced three books of visionary theology, several collections of writings on natural history and medicine, 77 songs and Ordo Vitutum the earliest surviving liturgical morality play. Hildegard is of contemporary interest with her appreciation of the feminine, her emphasis on the relationship between soul, mind and body.  Her inspirational music has been widely recorded—especially by the group Sequentia.

Since the fifteenth century, when her name was incorporated into the Roman Martyrology, she has been remembered on 17 September. 

Contributed by Carolyn Craig-Emilsen

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta, faithful servant

Born Agnes Bojaxhiu in 1910 of Albanian parents at Skopje, Yugoslavia, she was one of three children.  She attended the government school but also had good priests who helped the boys and girls to follow their vocation according to the call of God.  At twelve she first knew she had a vocation to the poor. While at school she became a member of the Sodality.  At that time the Yugoslav Jesuits had accepted to work in the Calcutta Archdiocese.  One of them sent enthusiastic letters about the mission field.  These letters were read regularly to the Sodalists.  Young Agnes was one who wanted to become a missionary and volunteered.  Toward the end of 1928 she was sent to Loreto Abbey in Dublin, Ireland and from there to India to begin her noviciate.

For twenty years she taught geography at St Mary’s High School in Calcutta.  For a few years she was principal of the school.  She was also in charge of the Daughters of St Anne, the Indian religious order attached to the Loreto Sisters.  She loved teaching but then came a change of direction.  In 1946 she was going to Darjeeling to make her retreat.  In the train she heard the call to give up all and follow Christ into the slums to serve him among the poorest of the poor.  First she had to get permission from the ecclesiastical authorities to live outside the cloister and work in the Calcutta slums.  In 1948 Mother Teresa laid aside the Loreto habit and clothed herself in a white sari with blue border and cross on the shoulder.  She went to Patna for three months to the American Medical Missionary Sisters for intensive nursing training.  By Christmas she was back in Calcutta living with the Little Sisters of the Poor.

She began by going into homes to see the children and the sick.  Then she started a little school.  She also gave practical lessons on hygiene.  Gradually the work grew and other women came to help and provide support.  The first ten girls who came to help were all students Mother Teresa had taught.  One by one they surrendered themselves to serve the poorest of the poor.  In 1950 the new congregation of The Missionaries of Charity was instituted in Calcutta.  Other helpers came.  Doctors and nurses came on a voluntary basis to help.  In 1952 the Home for the Dying was opened.  This began when she literally picked up a dying woman from the street.  The hospital only took her in because Mother Teresa refused to move until they accepted her.  From there she went to the municipality and asked for a place to bring dying people.

She was given the use of an empty Hindu temple.  She wanted to make the destitute feel they are wanted and so are shown human and divine love.  A Children’s Home was established in 1955.  Work among lepers began in 1957 when five lepers came because they had lost their jobs.

In 1963 the Archbishop of Calcutta blessed the beginnings of a new branch, The Missionary Brothers of Charity.  In 1965 The Missionaries of Charity became a society of pontifical right, which showed the appreciation of the Pope for the work.  The work spread to other parts of India, then to other poor areas in the cities of the world.  They seek to express the love of God holding that Christ is found in the sacrament and in the slums; in the “little” people they seek to help.  In later years she travelled, such as to assist and minister to the hungry in Ethiopia, the radiation victims at Chernobyl and earthquake victims in Armenia.

Mother Teresa is remembered as a person who served the poorest of the poor and inspired others to do so also.  She saw the poor ones in the world’s slums as like the suffering Christ.  In them God’s Son lives and dies and through them she saw God’s face.  For her prayer and service were bound together.

Her voice and example are heard today in her emphasis on the needs of the poorest of the poor, in seeing Christ in them, and in holding that prayer and compassionate action are both required.

Contributed by Chris Walker

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Albert Schweitzer, Christian pioneer

Albert Schweitzer (1875–1965), one of the best-known missionaries of the twentieth century, was born in Kayersberg, Alsace. He was extraordinarily gifted, intellectually brilliant and blessed with a robust constitution. His biographer, George Seaver, called him ‘probably the most gifted genius of our age’. By the age of thirty he had achieved distinction in the two disparate fields of music and theology. He was an authority on the life and works of J.S.  Bach, a renowned organist, expert on organ building and significant figure in the Organ Revival in the early twentieth century. In theology he is best remembered for The Quest of the Historical Jesus (1906), one of the most influential theological books of the twentieth century.  Thereafter, the apocalyptic element in the gospels—the sense of crisis, judgement, and the impending end of the world—had to be taken seriously. No longer could Christians be content with an image of Jesus as a civilized man of the nineteenth or twentieth century. And never again could preachers and scholars separate the teaching of Jesus from Jesus himself.

In 1906 Schweitzer began studying medicine and in 1913 he gave up his academic career as a theologian to devote himself to the care of the sick and to missionary activities at Lambaréné (French Equatorial Africa). For various reasons, he wanted to put the religion of love (the essential element in Christianity) into practice rather than talk about it. The prime reason for going to Africa, he explains in his reminiscences, On the Edge of the Primeval Forest (1922) was to do penance for the wrongs that Africans had suffered at the hands of Europeans—especially the introduction of disease and the slave trade.  Schweitzer believed that Europeans (like the rich man, Dives, in the biblical parable), had sinned against the people of Africa (the poor man at their gate), in that they had accepted the advantages of medical science and technology without putting themselves in the poor man’s place.

Schweitzer advocated an ethic based on ‘reverence for life’, including animal and plant life. For Schweitzer, it was good to maintain life and further life; it was bad to damage and destroy life.  Only by means of reverence for life, in Schweitzer’s view, can we establish a spiritual and humane relationship with all living creatures. A person is ethical when life is considered sacred and when that person devotes him or herself fully to those in need of help. Even as a child he was gripped by the sacredness of life. His night-time prayer was: ‘O heavenly Father, protect and bless all things that have breath; guard them from all evil, and let them sleep in peace.’

Schweitzer received numerous awards including the Nobel Peace prize in 1953. In putting into practice ‘reverence for life’, he became a symbol throughout the world of human dignity, service, and an example of the power of compassion in a time of genocide and mass hatred.

Contributed by William W. Emilsen

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Augustine of Hippo, Christian thinker

Aurelius Augustinus, arguably perhaps the greatest figure in the Western church, was born at Thagaste in North Africa in 354CE, the son of a devout Christian mother, Monica and a pagan father, Patricius. He lived only five of his 76 years outside of North Africa. Schooled at Madaura and Carthage, his reading of Cicero’s protreptic work Hortensius inspired him at the age of eighteen – the same year when his father died and his own son Adeodatus was born – to pursue Truth. He taught briefly at Thagaste and then at Carthage and then in 383, perhaps to escape the suffocating presence of his mother, he took ship for Rome itself where he accepted an imperial post teaching rhetoric.

In the intervening years, in his quest for truth, he had read the Bible but without real interest and engaged as a hearer with the Manichaean sect. While in the end he ended his association with this group, their influence, positively or negatively, continued to inform his theological development for the rest of his life. After a short stay in Rome he accepted the imperial post of Professor of Rhetoric at Milan and his move there in 384 began for him a journey from Platonism to Christianity, from Milan to Cassiciacum to Ostia to Thagaste and thence to Hippo in North Africa.

In Milan he met the formidable bishop Ambrose who introduced him to (Neo) platonism and to Greek Fathers like Basil. In the garden of his residence at Milan he experienced his famous conversion, went on retreat to Cassiciacum where he wrote his Soliloquies, and thence to Ostia where he experienced his famous vision.

Following Monica’s death he returned to North Africa and Thagaste via Rome and there determined to set up a retreat of sorts for like-minded men. A side-trip to Hippo – and the untimely death of his son – saw a life-changing experience where he was ordained, effectively by force, by the church there, made co-bishop and then, on the death of the bishop in 395, elected in his place.

As bishop he wrote much. Between 397 and 401 he wrote his magisterial Confessions in which he explored the personal life in the context of his own journey to faith. This work is widely regarded as not only a major text in the Christian canon but also in the Western literary canon itself. Over a twenty year period – from 399 to 419 – he wrote the De Trinitate which has so influenced the development of this central doctrine in the Western church. From 411 onwards he began a series of anti-Donatist writings in which he developed his ecclesiological thought. Between 413 and 425 he authored the De Civitate Dei – perhaps it should have been titled A Tale of Two Cities! – in which he presented a way in which human history might be understand as a process in which people either turn towards God or away from God and into themselves. The content is somewhat drawn-out perhaps but the idea is magnificent. From 413 he began his writing against the teaching of the British Pelagius – whom he never actually met in person – and the so-called Pelagians, including the extremist Julian, bishop of Eclanum. His authoritative De natura et gratia in which he outlined his concerns with Pelagius’ own writings – though Augustine managed here to play the ball and not the man, for he clearly regarded him with great respect – and with presenting his notion of original sin [or guilt], that idea with which Augustine is clearly, rightly or not, so identified. The next few years saw other like writings, including the contra Julianum (in six books) and On Grace and Freewill. In his later years he developed and published his Retractationes in which he amended, modified and even dismissed some of his earlier views on a wide range of matters.

In 430, as the Arian Vandals besieged the city of Hippo, the great bishop and Doctor of the Church died. When the Vandals finally entered and burned the city all that they left untouched were Augustine’s cathedral and his library.

by Rev Dr David Mackay-Rankin

 

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Bernard of Clairvaux, person of prayer

Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) was a complex and many-sided character. He was a Cistercian abbot and monastic reformer, a spiritual writer of exceptional depth and beauty, an ecclesiastical statesman who advised kings, cardinals and popes, a preacher of crusades and a dogged opponent of heresy.

He was undoubtedly the most commanding Church leader in the first half of the twelfth century and one of the great spiritual masters of all times. He left his mark on schools of spirituality, monasticism, theology, worship, church music, church administration, art and architecture. Almost everything that he did had a tremendous effect in shaping the course of history.

Born to minor nobility at Fontaines-les-Dijon, Bernard entered the recently founded ‘New Monastery’ of Citeaux in Burgundy, France, in 1112, bringing with him some thirty friends and relatives whom he had persuaded to join him. Three years later, Bernard, then only twenty-four or twenty-five, was sent to found a new monastery at Clairvaux (‘Valley of Light’) in Champagne, which became the most successful Cistercian house in Europe. From this time Bernard’s fame spread and reluctantly he began to enter public affairs. Popes, bishops, abbesses (including Hildegard of Bingen), almost anyone in difficulty, sought his advice and support.

Bernard led a remarkable public life. He intervened (not always appropriately) in ecclesiastical elections to ensure the appointment of reform-minded candidates. He arbitrated disputes and resolved papal schism. He supported bright young men such as Peter Lombard, Robert Pullen (one of the early Masters at Oxford), and John of Salisbury (who became bishop of Chartres). Although a monk he spent more than a third of his time traversing Europe resolving disputes, upbraiding popes and emperor, dislodging archbishops, defending orthodoxy, pursuing heretics, writing prolifically, and leading the broadest reform movement in monastic history. Aware of the incongruity of his busy life, Bernard wrote that, ‘I am like a little bird that has not yet grown feathers, nearly all the time outside its dear nest, at the mercy of wind and storm’. It would be easy to censure Bernard for being drawn so heavily into politics, especially when he preached a very different set of priorities, but his manner of living—struggling to be in the world but not of it—inspired and challenged other spiritual and political leaders of the time to be more devoted to Christ in their daily life.

Primarily, Bernard is remembered as a master of the spiritual life rather than as a statesman or ecclesiastical diplomat. And although his writings were mostly addressed to those living the monastic life, his prayerful, pastoral approach to theology was and still is attractive to many outside monastic cloisters. In Bernard’s theology there is a comprehensive and cohesive ‘theology of experience’. Experience is the distinguishing mark of his thought. His spirituality embraced notions of desire, delight, love, awe, wonder and anticipation. He treated religious experience as the gateway to God, beginning with introspection and self-knowledge and ending with the contemplation of and direct knowledge of God. Bernard effectively took Anselm’s classic dictum, ‘I believe so that I might understand’, so characteristic of the scholastic approach to theology, and supplanted it with one of his own, ‘I believe so that I might experience’.

Bernard speaks of the spiritual life as a kind of interior pilgrimage whereby one passes from lower to higher forms of love. This is clearly illustrated in his little classic On the Love of God where he traces the spiritual journey in terms of four degrees of love: human or carnal love, self-interested love of God; filial love of God; and a selfless love of God. For Bernard the body is important; the spiritual life begins with human nature and utilises human feelings such as desire, friendship, love, affection, and deep and unexplainable attachments to discover one’s capacity and longing for God. Similarly, in Bernard’s great masterpiece, Sermons on the Song of Songs, he discusses various themes on the love of God and the movement towards union with God.

Bernard was one of the few medieval theologians that the Protestant reformers spoke of with praise. Both Luther and Calvin valued him as an ally and quoted him extensively. Luther ranked Bernard alongside the Latin ‘Fathers’ of the Western Church: Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose and Gregory the Great. Luther appreciated Bernard’s devotion to the humanity of Christ and regarded him as an outstanding preacher and witness to the gospel. In recent times Bernard has been described as a ‘forerunner of the Reformation’ and an ‘evangelical Catholic’.

Bernard is a key literary source of hope and encouragement in the Christian life. His influence is still felt in the joyfulness of Francis of Assisi, the devotion in Thomas à Kempis’ Imitation of Christ, and in the oratorios of J. S. Bach. His theology has much that is worthy of the modern church’s attention. It captures the best elements of both Catholicism and Protestantism. He emphasized teachings precious to Protestants such as confidence in God’s grace, conversion and salvation through the redemptive work of Jesus Christ; he also honoured Catholic teachings on the sacraments, the saints and of the necessity of the Church.

Contributed by William Emilsen

These weekly “People to Commemorate” posts are a kind of calendar for the commemoration of the saints, reproduced here from a Uniting Church Assembly document which can be found in full here. They are intended for copying and pasting into congregational pew sheets on the Sunday closest to the nominated date.

Images (where provided) are of icons by Peter Blackwood; click on the image to download a high resolution copy of the image.

Ann Griffiths, person of prayer

Ann Griffiths (1776-1805) was a prominent Welsh poet and hymn-writer, and a Christian poet of international stature. Although she died at only 29 years of age, this farmer’s daughter from mid-Wales left poems and letters that are considered among the highlights of Welsh literature. Many scholars consider her to be the greatest of Welsh women poets and claim that her stanzas include some of the great Christian poetry of Europe.

Ann Griffiths was born Ann Thomas in Montgomeryshire the daughter of a prosperous farmer, a devout Anglican. In her youth she was known to seek the society of others and enjoyed dancing, a little too much perhaps. In 1796, two years after the death of her mother, Ann was converted by the preaching of a Congregational minister Benjamin Jones. Later, with her family she came under the influence of Thomas Charles a Calvinist Methodist who made a great impression on the young woman’s mind and heart. Calvinistic Methodism was a movement which placed great emphasis not only on the orthodox beliefs of the Christian faith, but on the personal experience of those beliefs, on feeling the truths of the Faith. Until 1811 Welsh Calvinistic Methodism was officially a movement within the Established Church and not a separate denomination.  Members of the movement would meet together in local groups called seiadau (singular seiat, from the English word ‘society’), where they would discuss and examine their religious experiences and receive help and instruction on their spiritual journey. In addition, there was a network of monthly meetings and quarterly association meetings (or sasiynau; singular sasiwn) to superintend the work.

Ann, then, was considered a person whose spiritual experiences were remarkable even at a time of powerful religious awakening. The examples of Ann’s work that have been preserved for us are both the fruit of those intense spiritual experiences and an expression of them. The sum total of her surviving work is small: eight letters and just over 70 stanzas, and only one letter and one stanza in her own hand. Ann Griffith’s poems would probably be called “hymns” but they are not ‘congregational’ hymns. They are more “praise poems” written by Ann as a kind of spiritual journal entry when there was ‘something in particular on her mind.’

The Bible was central to Ann’s life and work and the key to forming and interpreting her experience of God whom she knew through the person of Jesus Christ. The hymns she wrote were centered on the figure of Christ crucified but including imagery from both Testaments. They exhibit an extraordinary emotional fervor and a critical knowledge of the Bible with a combination of intellect and devotion that is remarkable in a woman of her time.
At the same time Ann’s experience of God included having visions of Jesus and she admitted to “visitations”, seeing Christ waiting for her among the myrtles.   Sent into the potato shed to collect potatoes she might be found hours later in a trance. This has given rise to the tendency to call her “a mystic.”

Ann Griffiths died aged 29 after giving birth to her only child who also died and was buried two weeks before her.