Monday, 27 May 2024

27 MAY – SAINT BEDE THE VENERABLE (Priest)


The Reverend Sabine Baring-Gould:
Bede was born in 672 or 673 near the place where Benedict Biscop soon afterwards founded the religious house of Wearmouth, perhaps in the parish of Monkton, which appears to have been one of the earliest endowments of the monastery. As soon as he had reached his seventh year, Bede was sent to Wearmouth, and then to Jarrow, to profit by the teaching of Biscop, from which period to his death he continued to be an inmate of the later monastery.

After the death of Benedict Biscop, Bede pursued his studies under his successor Ceolfrid and, at the age of nineteen, about 692, was admitted to deacon’s orders by Saint John of Beverley, then newly restored to his see of Hexham, and in his thirtieth year he was ordained to the priesthood by the same prelate. The early age at which Bede received holy orders shows that he was then already distinguishing himself by his learning and piety, and there can be little doubt that his fame was widely spread before the commencement of the eighth century. At that period, according to that account which has been generally received, Bede was invited to Rome by Pope Sergius I to advise with that pontiff on some difficult points of church discipline. The authority for this circumstance is a letter of the pope to Ceolfrid, expressing his wish to see Bede at Rome, which has been inserted by William of Malmesbury in his History of England. It seems, however, nearly certain that Bede did not go to Rome on this occasion, and reasons have been stated for supposing the whole story, as far as Bede was concerned in it, to be a misrepresentation. If Bede was invited, we may suppose that the death of the pope the same year in which the letter was sent released him from the labours of the journey.
The remainder of Bede’s life appears to have passed in the tranquillity of study. He clung through life to the dear retreat that was his home, and within its peaceful walls composed his numerous books. But occasionally he went forth to other religious houses for brief visits. In 733 he spent some days in the monastery of York in company with his friend, Archbishop Egbert, but he declined another invitation from the same prelate towards the close of 734 on the plea of ill health, in a letter still preserved. Bede was at this time labouring under an asthmatic complaint which shortly afterwards carried him from the scene of his mortal labours. It is evident from various passages of his works that his days and nights were divided between the studies and researches which he pursued to his last hour, and the instructions he gave to the six hundred monks of Wearmouth and Jarrow. An existence more completely occupied it would be difficult to imagine. Except during the course of his last illness, he had no assistant in his work. “I am my own secretary,” he said, “I dictate, I compose, I copy all myself.”
His greatest work, that most precious to Englishmen, is unquestionably his Ecclesiastical History of England, our chief, almost our only authority for the early history of Christianity in our island. He was urged to undertake this by Albinus, abbot of Saint Augustine’s, Canterbury. Albinus furnished him with memoranda of all that had happened in Kent and the neighbouring counties in the time of the missionaries sent by Saint Gregory. He even sent a priest to Rome to search the archives of the Roman Church, with the permission of Gregory II, for the letters of his predecessors and other documents relative to the mission to England. All the bishops of England also assisted in the work by transmitting to the author what information they could collect concerning the origin of the faith in their dioceses. The abbots of the most important monasteries also furnished their contingent.

This pleasant and glorious life was not, however, without a cloud. He excited the criticism of narrow spirits. They even went so far as to treat him as a heretic because he had in his Chronology combated the general opinion that the world would last only six thousand years. He grew pale with surprise and horror, as he says to one of his friends in an apologetic letter which he charges his correspondent to read to Wilfrid, bishop of York, who seems to have given a certain encouragement to the slander by suffering it to pass in his hearing unrebuked. If, however, he had some enemies, he had more friends. Among these, in the first rank, it is pleasant to find the Celtic monks of Lindisfarne. Bede asks that his name should be inscribed on the roll of monks in the monastery founded by Saint Aidan. He especially desired this favour in order that his soul after death might have a share in the Masses and prayers of that numerous community, as if he had been one of themselves.
The details of his last sickness and death have been revealed to us in minute detail by an eye-witness, the monk Cuthbert:
“Nearly a fortnight before Easter (17th April, 734) he was seized by an extreme weakness in consequence of his difficulty of breathing, but without great pain. He continued thus till the Ascension (26th May), always joyous and happy, giving thanks to God day and night, and even every hour of the night and day. He gave us our lessons daily, and employed the rest of his time in chanting psalms, and passed every night, after a short sleep, in joy and thanksgiving, but without closing his eyes. From the moment of awaking he resumed his prayers and praises to God, with his arms outstretched as a cross. O happy man! He sang sometimes texts from Saint Paul and other scriptures, sometimes lines in our own language, for he was very able in English poetry, to this effect: ‘None is wiser than him needeth, ere his departure, than to ponder ere the soul flits, what good, what evil it hath wrought, and how after death it will be judged.’
He also sang antiphons according to our ritual and his own, one of which is, ‘O glorious King, Lord of all power, who, triumphing this day, did ascend up above the heavens, leave us not orphans; but send down on us from the Father the Spirit of Truth which Thou hast promised. Hallelujah.’ And when he came to the words, ‘leave us not orphans,‘ he burst into tears, and continued weeping. But an hour after he rallied himself and began to repeat the antiphon he had begun. By turns we read, and by turns we wept — nay, we wept while we read. In such joy we passed the days of Lent, till the aforesaid day. He often repeated, ‘The Lord scourgeth every son whom He receiveth,’ and much more out of Scripture; as also this sentence from Saint Ambrose, ‘I have not lived so as to be ashamed to live among you, nor do I fear to die, for our God is gracious.’
During these days he laboured to compose two works, besides his giving us our lessons and singing psalms. He was engaged on translating the Gospel of Saint John into the vulgar tongue for the benefit of the Church, and had got as far as the words, ‘But what are these among so many’ (S. John vi. 9), and he was also making some notes out of the book of Bishop Isidore; for he said, ‘I will not have my pupils read what is untrue, nor labour on what is profitless after my death.’ On the Tuesday before the Ascension his breath became much affected, and his feet swelled, but he passed all that day cheerfully and continued his dictation, saying, ‘Be quick with your writing, for I will not hold out much longer.’ So he spent the night awake giving thanks, and when morning broke, that is Wednesday, he ordered us to write with all speed what he had begun.
And there was one of us who said to him, ‘Most dear master, there is still one chapter wanting. Will it trouble you if I ask a few questions?’ for the rest of us had gone to make the Rogation procession. He answered, ‘It is no trouble. Take your pen, and write fast.’ And when it came to the ninth hour he said to me, ‘There are some articles of value in my chest, as peppercorns, napkins and incense. Run quickly and bring the priests of the monastery to me, that I may distribute among them the gifts which God has bestowed on me.’ And when they were come he spoke to each of them in turn, and entreated them to pray and offer the Holy Sacrifice for his soul, which they all readily promised, but they were all weeping, for he said ‘You will see my face again no more in this life. It is time for me to return to Him who formed me out of nothing. The time of my dissolution is at hand. I desire to be dissolved, and to be with Christ.’ Now when even came on, the boy above mentioned said, ‘Dear master, there is yet one sentence not written.’ He answered, ‘Then write it quickly now.’ Soon after the boy said, ‘It is finished. The sentence is now written.’ He replied, ‘It was well said, it is finished. Raise my old head in your arms, that I may look once more at the happy, holy place, where I was wont to pray, that sitting up in my bed I may call on my Father.’ And thus on the pavement of his little cell, singing ‘Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,’ he breathed his last, as he uttered the name of the Holy Ghost, and so departed to the heavenly kingdom. All who were present thought they had never seen any one die with so much devotion, and in so peaceful a state of mind.”
The monastic sanctuary towards which the dying look of Bede was turned still remains in part, if we may believe the best archaeologists, in the recently restored parish church of Jarrow, which has been carefully renovated in honour of England’s first great historian, every relic of the ancient building as old as Bede being carefully preserved. An old oak chair is still shown, which the saint is pretended to have used. Like all the other saints of the period, without exception, he was canonised by popular veneration, tacitly approved by the Church. Many pilgrims came to Jarrow to visit his tomb. His relics were stolen in the ninth century and carried to Durham, where they were placed with those of Saint Cuthbert. They were an object of veneration to the faithful up to the general profanation under Henry VIII who pulled down the shrine and buried them with those of all the other holy apostles and martyrs of Northumbria.
Towards the ninth century Bede received the appellation of the Venerable, which has ever since been attached to his name. As a specimen of the fables by which his biography was gradually obscured, we may cite the legends invented to account for the origin of this latter title. According to one, the Anglo-Saxon scholars were on a visit to Rome, and there saw a gate of iron on which was inscribed the letters P.P.P., S.S.S., R.R.R., F.F.F., which no one was able to interpret. While Bede was attentively considering the inscription, a Roman who was passing by said to him rudely, “What see you there, English ox?” to which Bede replied, “I see your confusion,” and he immediately explained the character thus: Pater Patriae Perditus, Sapientia Secum Sublata, Ruet Regnum Romae, Ferro Flamma Fame. The Romans were astonished at the acuteness of their English visitor, and decreed that the title of Venerable should be thenceforth given to him.

According to another story, Bede, having become blind in his old age, was walking abroad with one of his disciples for a guide, when they arrived at an open place where there was a large heap of stones, and Bede’s companion persuaded his master to preach to the people who, as he pretended, were assembled to hear him. Bede delivered a moving discourse, and when he uttered the concluding words, “per saecula saeculorum,” to the great admiration of his disciple, the stones immediately cried out “Amen, Venerable Bede!” There is also a third legend on this subject which informs us that soon after Bede’s death, one of his disciples was appointed to compose an epitaph in Latin leonines, and carve it on his monument, and he began thus: Hac sunt in fossa Bedus ossa,” intending to introduce the word sancti or presbyteri; but as neither of these words would suit the metre, he left it blank and fell asleep. On awaking he found that an angel had completed the line, and that it stood thus: Hac sunt in fossa Bedus Venerabilis ossa.
Also on this day according to the ROMAN MARTYROLOGY:

The birthday of St. John, pope and martyr, who was called to Ravenna by the Arian king of Italy, Theodoric, and after languishing a long time in prison for the orthodox faith, terminated his life.

At Dorostorum in Mysia, in the time of the emperor Alexander, the martyrdom of blessed Julius, a veteran soldier in retirement who was arrested by the officials and presented to the governor Maximus. Having in his presence execrated the idols and confessed the name of Christ with the utmost constancy, he was condemned to capital punishment.

At Sora, in the time of the emperor Aurelian and the proconsul Agathius, St. Restituta, virgin and martyr, who overcame in a combat for the faith the violence of the demons, the caresses of her family and the cruelty of the executioners. Being finally beheaded with other Christians, she obtained the honour of martyrdom.

In the territory of Arras, St. Ranulph, martyr.

At Orange in France, St. Eutropius, a bishop, illustrious for virtues and miracles.

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

Thanks be to God.