8 JUNE – SAINT WILLIAM OF YORK (Bishop and Confessor)

William was born to Count Hubert and Emma, a sister of King Stephen. From his earliest years he was remarkable for great virtue. Growing in merit as he advanced in age, he was made Treasurer of York, in which office he so behaved as to be held by all the father of the needy in general. Nor indeed did he esteem anything a more precious treasure than to despoil himself of his wealth, that he might more easily minister to the wants of those labouring under poverty. After the death of Archbishop Turstan, William was was elected to succeed him, though some few of the Chapter dissented. But Saint Bernard, on the ground of this election being faulty according to the sacred Canons, appealed against him to the Apostolic See and William was deposed by Pope Eugenius III. William took this as an occasion to exercise humility and serve God with greater freedom. Fleeing worldly pomps, he withdrew into solitude where he could attend solely to his own salvation, undistracted by any care of exterior things. But, at last, his adversaries being dead, he was again with the full consent of all elected Archbishop, and was confirmed by Pope Anastasius. Having entered on his See he shortly afterwards became ill and died on the sixth of the Ides of June in 1154.

Dom Prosper Gueranger:

At the head of the holy Confessors admitted by the Church on the monumental page of her Martyrology for today is inscribed the illustrious name of William “At York, in England.” Thus runs the text of the Golden Book of Heaven’s nobility, “the memory of Saint William, Archbishop and Confessor, who, among other miracles wrought at his tomb, raised three dead persons to life, and was inscribed among the Saints by Honorius III.” The divine Spirit who adorns the Church with variety in the virtues of her sons (Psalms xliv. 10) reproduces in them the life of the Divine Spouse under multiplied aspects. Thus there is no situation in life that bears not with it some teaching drawn from the example given by our Lord and His saints under similar circumstances. However vast be the field of trial for the elect, here below, however multiplied and unexpected, sometimes, be the limits of endurance, or the circumstances; herein, as ever, does that word of Eternal Wisdom chime in: “Nothing is new under the sun, neither is any man able to say: ‘Behold this is new: for it has already gone before, in the ages that were before us’” (Apocalypse xix. 8).

The election of William to the metropolitan See of York was signalled by the apparition of a miraculous cross, a presage of what his life was to be. Verily the heaviest cross one can have to bear is that which originates on the part of the servants of God, from our own brethren, or from our own superiors, in the spiritual order of things. Now, this was the very cross that was not to be spared to William. For our instruction — especially for us who so easily believe that we have gone to the furthest limits of endurance in point of suffering — God permitted that, after the example of His divine Master, William should drink the chalice to the dregs and should become even to Saints a sign of contradiction and a rock of scandal (Luke ii. 34; Romans ix. 33).

Both to the more numerous portion of the flock, as well as to the better minded among them, the promotion of the Archbishop elect of York was indeed a cause of great joy, but thereby also diversely interested views among several had been crossed. In their simplicity some of the sheep gave ear to certain perfidious insinuations and whisperings. They were led to suppose that it would be a good deed if they strove to break the staff that guided them to wholesome pastures, and they allowed themselves to be so far worked on as to make formal and grave accusations against their Shepherd. Then, at last, most virtuous persons beguiled by the craftiness of the intriguers were to be seen espousing their cause, and putting at their service the very zeal with which the hearts of the former were really inflamed for the House of God. After hearing as above, from the lips of Holy Church in the Martyrology, her own judgement, glorious as it stands and without appeal, it is not without feelings of wonder and even of bewilderment that we read passages such as the following in letters written at the time: “To our well beloved Father and Lord, Innocent, by the grace of God, Sovereign Pontiff, Bernard of Clairvaux. The Archbishop of York has approached you, that man regarding whom we have so often already, written to your Holiness. A sorry cause indeed is his, as we have learned from such as are worthy of credit, from the sole of his foot to the top of his head, there is not a sound place in him. What can this man stripped of all justice have to seek at the hand of the Guardian of justice?”

Then recommending the accusers to the Pontiff, the Abbot of Clairvaux fears not to add: “If any one be of God, let him join himself to them! If the barren tree still occupy the ground, to whom must I attribute the fault, save to him to whom the hatchet belongs?” The Vicar of Christ, who can look at things from a higher level and can see more exactly than even saints can, having taken no step to prevent William’s consecration, Saint Bernard pens these words confidentially to the Abbot of Rievaulx in Yorkshire: “I have learnt what has become of this Archbishop, and my sorrow is extreme. We have laboured all we could against this common pest, and we have not obtained the desired measure. But, for all that, the fruit of our labour is none the less assured from Him who never suffers any good deed to pass unrewarded. What men have refused to us, I am confident we will obtain from the mercy of our Father who is in Heaven, and that we will yet see this cursed fig-tree rooted up.” Such grave mistakes as these can sometimes be made by saints. Cruel mistakes indeed they are, but very sanctifying for those saints on whom the blow falls. And though veritable persecutions, yet are they not without one sweet consolation for such saints as these, inasmuch as there has been no offence to God on either side.

Innocent II being dead, Bernard, convinced that the honour of the Church was at stake, repeated his supplications more urgently than ever to Pope Celestine II and the Roman Court: “The whole world is aware of the devil’s triumph,” he exclaimed, and with such fiery zeal, that we somewhat modify the strength of his expression: “The applause of the uncircumcised and the tears of the good, resound far and wide if such were to be the finale of this ignominious cause, why not have left it in its darksome nook? Could not this infamous man, the horror of England and the abomination of France, have been made bishop without Rome also witnessing the general infection to pervade as far as the very tombs of the Apostles...Well, be it so: this man has received sacrilegious consecration. But still more glorious will it be to precipitate Simon from mid-air, than to have prevented his mounting thus far. Otherwise, what will you do with the Faithful whose sense of religion makes them suppose that they cannot, with a safe conscience, receive the Sacraments from this leprous hand? Are they, then, to be forced by Rome to bend the knee to Baal?”

Rome, however, was slow in letting herself be convinced, and neither Celestine nor Lucius II who succeeded him was willing to find in the great services and justifiable ascendancy of the Abbot of Clairvaux a sufficient reason to pronounce a condemnation, the justice of which was far from being proved to their eyes. It was only under the pontificate of Eugenius III, his former disciple, that Saint Bernard by new and reiterated instances at last obtained the deposition of William and the substitution to the See of York of Henry Murdach, a Cistercian and Abbot of Fountains near Ripon. “All the time that his humiliation lasted,” writes John, Prior of Hexham, “William never let a murmur of complaint escape him. But with a silent heart and with his soul at peace, knew how to keep patience. He reclaimed not against his adversaries. Nay, further still, he would turn aside his ear and his very thought from those who judged them unfavourably. None of those who shared his disgrace showed themselves so continually given up as he to prayer and labour.” Five years afterwards, Eugenius III died, as also the Abbot of Clairvaux and Henry Murdach. The Canons of York once more elected William and he was re-instated in the plenitude of his metropolitan rights by Anastasius IV. But God had willed to affirm here below the justice alone of his cause: thirty days after his triumphal return to York he died, having only just solemnised the Festival of the Holy Trinity for whom he had suffered all.

* * * * *

O WILLIAM, you knew how to possess your soul! Under the assaults of contradiction you joined the aureola of sanctity to the glorious character of a Bishop. For well did you understand the two-fold duty incumbent on you from the day you were called by the suffrages of an illustrious Church to defend her here below under most difficult circumstances: on the one hand, not to refuse the perilous honour of upholding to the last the rights of that noble bride who proffered you her alliance: on the other, to show to your flock, by the example of your own submission, that even the best of causes can never be dispensed from that absolute obedience owed by sheep, just as much as by lambs, to the supreme Shepherd. He who searches the heart and the reins (Jeremias xvii. 10) knew how far the trial could go without either altering the admirable simplicity of your faith, or troubling, in consequence, the divine calm in which lay your strength. Yearning to raise you to the highest degree of glory, near to that Altar yonder in heaven, fain was He to assimilate you fully even here below to the eternal Pontiff, erstwhile misunderstood, denied and condemned by the very princes of His own people. Your refuge was in that maxim from the lips of this divine Head: “Learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest to your souls” (Matthew xi. 29), and thus the yoke that would bear down such weak shoulders as ours, the burden beneath which the strongest of us might well indeed quail, far from daunting you, seemed fraught with such sweetness that your step became all the lighter for it, and from that hour you appeared not only to walk, but to run like a giant (Psalms xviii. 6) in the way of heroism in which Saints are formed.

Help us, William, to follow your steps at least afar off, in the paths of gentleness and energy. Teach us to count for little all personal injuries. Our Lord indeed probed the delicacy of your great soul when He permitted that to befall you which to us would have proved a very core of bitterness, namely, that your hottest adversaries really should be true saints, who in every measure they undertook against you, were wishful only for the honour and glory of the divine Master, yours and theirs alike. The mysterious oil that for so long flowed from your tomb was at once a sign of the ineffable meekness which earned for you that constant simplicity of your soul’s glance, and a touching testimony rendered by Heaven in favour of your pontifical unction, the legitimacy of which was so long contested. God grant that this sweet oil may ooze out once again! Spread it lovingly on so many wounded souls whom the injustice of men embitters and drives to desperation. Let it freely flow in your own Church of York, alien though she now be, to your exquisite submission to Rome and to her ancient traditions. O would that Albion might cast aside her winding-sheet at that blessed tomb of yours where the dead have often returned to life. In one word, may the whole Church receive from you this day increase of light and grace, to the honour and praise of the undivided and ever tranquil Trinity, to Whom was paid your last solemn homage here below.

Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

At Aix in France, St. Maximin, first bishop of that city, who is said to have been a disciple of Our Lord.

The same day, St. Calliopa, martyr, who, for the faith of Christ, had her breasts cut off, her flesh burned, was rolled on broken pottery, and being lastly decapitated, received the palm of martyrdom.

At Soissons in France, the birthday of St. Medard, bishop of Noyon, whose life and precious death are illustrated by glorious miracles.

At Rouen, St. Gildard, bishop, brother of St. Medard. They were born on the same day, consecrated bishops at the same time, and being taken away from this life also on the same day, they entered heaven together.

At Sens, St. Heraclius, bishop.

At Metz, St. Clodulphus, bishop.

In the Marches of Ancona, St. Severin, bishop of Stepternpeda.

In Sardinia, St. Sallustian, confessor.

At Camerino, St. Victorinus, confessor.

And in other places, many other holy martyrs, confessors and virgins.

Thanks be to God.