Emperor Constantine grew concerned that the division could threaten the peace and security of his realm. He instructed both Arius and Alexander to cease their “petty discussions of unintelligible minutiae.” Arius continued with the heresy, writing popular songs that drilled people in his doctrine, and seeking more supporters. The arbitrator sent by Constantine to resolve the dispute grew utterly frustrated and recommended an international council meeting.
The ecumenical council, which assembled in Nicea in May of 325, was probably the most important church meeting ever held. Arius presented a creed that failed to garner support. Constantine backed another creed that included some highly technical Greek terminology still enjoyed by today’s theological students. In essence, the Caesarean Creed held that Jesus was “begotten, not made.” He was “of one essence with the Father.” We may consider such detailed wrangling boring church business, but it consumed international public consciousness in the early fourth century. People were utterly distracted by theological discussion. Ask a baker the price of bread, and instead of a price in return, you might hear, “The Son is subordinate to the Father.” The popular songs Arius composed were sung and whistled in the streets. Religious arguments often led to blows.
Constantine’s concerns were as much political as religious because the issue threatened the unity of both church and state. He wanted a creed that used language acceptable to both Greek-speaking and Latin-speaking citizens. East and West had to agree on terminology in order to preserve the peace. The emperor pressed the council to adopt a creed that is the basis of our present Nicene Creed. For the first time, the whole Church had a written standard of orthodoxy. Christ is “of one substance (Greek, homo-ousios) with the Father.” Only Arius and two bishops refused to sign their consent. Constantine then banished them from the empire.
Exhausted, Alexander returned home after the council meeting. A few months later, he was dead.
APRIL 19
Alphege (ca. 954–1012)
Negotiation
One hundred and fifty years before Thomas Becket (December 29) was murdered in Canterbury Cathedral, another archbishop of Canterbury was violently killed. Alphege lived in England during the years of terror by Danish marauders. At the request of an English king with the delightful name of Ethelred the Unready, Alphege attempted to negotiate peace with the Danish warlords. Not only did he get them to stop their aggressive behavior, but he also converted them to Christianity.
Alphege became archbishop of Canterbury in 1005. Unfortunately, other Danes began invading southern England and in 1010 laid siege to Canterbury. They got the money they wanted, but instead of departing, they entered the city and held Alphege hostage. The Danes released others they had captured after the payment of a ransom, but they wanted three thousand gold crowns for the freedom of Alphege. When he would not permit his people to pay that much, the Danes murdered him by striking him in the head with an ax. This brutal act horrified higher Danish authorities, and they directed a solemn burial at Canterbury for the man who had become a national hero. Anselm (April 21) held that to die for justice is to die a martyr. A century and a half later, one of the last words Thomas Becket ever spoke was “Alphege.”
APRIL 20
Hildegund (d. 1188)
Depending on God
A Christian cross-dresser with a purpose, Hildegund provides us with an astonishing true story. The temptation today is to dismiss her incredible tale as legendary, but her adventures stand up to scrutiny.
Hildegund was the twelfth-century daughter of a German knight or merchant. After her mother’s death, she went with her father on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. For her protection as they traveled through various lands, she dressed like a boy and used the name Joseph. Their journey was successful, but on the way home, her father died. The servant who kept their purse absconded, leaving twelve-year-old Hildegund in Tyre without any money. She continued trying to return to Germany, but many things happened along the way—including her almost being hanged in Verona.
Once back home, Hildegund was still without means to support herself and decided to become a lay “brother” at the Cistercian monastery at Schönau. As Brother Joseph, she began a life of quiet prayer and meditation, dying after a few years in 1188. Only then did anyone discover her secret. A similar story of a woman in male clothing is told of Pelagia (October 8) and others.
APRIL 21
Anselm (ca. 1033–1109)
Intelligence and faith
A great mind and spirit entered the world when Anselm was born in Aosta, a town on the border between Burgundy and Lombardy. He performed well in school and, at about the age of fifteen, decided to become a monk. When this did not turn out to be possible, he sank into a secular life for two years.
From the age of seventeen until he was fifty-nine, Anselm lived in Normandy at the Benedictine abbey of Bec. In the autumn of 1092, while visiting England, Anselm became archbishop of Canterbury, appointed by a sick king who was thought to be on his deathbed. Anselm soon faced an insoluble dilemma.
King William Rufus did not die, and like so many desperate promises made to God under duress, his willingness to have an archbishop at Canterbury evaporated. He wanted its revenues for his own coffers. He restricted Anselm’s ability to function and threatened that he would not allow Anselm back into England if he visited the continent. The archbishop wrote, “I saw in England many evils whose correction belonged to me and which I could neither remedy nor, without personal guilt, allow to exist.”
Anselm thought it was necessary to leave England in 1097 to visit religious communities in France. King William Rufus died while Anselm was across the English Channel. His successor, Henry I, requested that Anselm return to Canterbury. Henry restored church property and gave Anselm the freedom to conduct church business. Unfortunately, this relationship also deteriorated with the passage of time. Anselm went into exile a second time, an absence that began in December 1103 and continued until August 1106. For a quiet, contemplative monk, Anselm surprised his biographers by using those years to accomplish some impressive political gains and garner popular support. Church administration may not have been Anselm’s strongest interest, but he accepted his position as the will of God and worked effectively without complaint. Obedience was an important part of the Benedictine Rule. Anselm said, “When I professed myself a monk I surrendered myself in such a way that thereafter I could not live according to my own will, but only in accordance with obedience either to God or to the Church of God.”
Anselm nurtured close personal friendships and was not reluctant to express his emotions. His spirit was warm and tender. The correspondence, prayers, and meditations of Anselm began to circulate while he was still alive. Both public and private readings of his work guided many souls.
Far beyond his considerable achievements in church and state is his work as a theologian. Anselm wrote eleven large treatises. His Proslogion, written in 1078, explains that the theologian’s task is that of “faith seeking understanding.” In his great mind, reason took its place beside mystery. Faith is compatible with intelligence, and we do not have to suspend rational thought to be Christian. At the same time, he wrote, reason alone does not result in understanding. Faith is an essential element in useful theology, and if Scripture clashes with reason, Scripture is correct.
Why God Become Human (Cur Deus Homo) is Anselm’s masterpiece. In it, he presents a theory of divine atonement and redemption that was to become the standard for Christian doctrinal ideas for centuries. Rather than quoting authorities and long strings of Bible verses, Anselm’s writings present original, sustained, and clear thinking.
APRIL 22
Theodore of Sykeon (d. 613)
Healing and exorcism
Sykeon was a town in Galatia, Asia Minor. Theodore’s mother kept an inn at Sykeon that also functioned as a brothel. She hired an extraordinarily good cook who attracted so much business there was no continuing need to earn money with prostitution. This unnamed excellent
cook, also a devout Christian, taught Theodore how to pray and encouraged him to attend church. When he grew old enough to be on his own, Theodore became a hermit, living in a cave beside a chapel.
Many visitors began to seek Theodore because he was known as a healer and an exorcist. To recover some solitude he moved up a mountainside and made his home in another cave. This did not work, because vermin overran the place and the lack of cleanliness ruined his health.
Seventh-century expressions of faith puzzle us today. When Theodore returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he began a life of austerity, living in cages suspended above the floor of a cave. He became a wonder-worker, and people started coming to him again in great numbers. For those who wanted to be his disciples he built a monastery. Then, much to his surprise and dismay, Theodore became bishop of Anastasiopolis. He functioned in this capacity for almost a decade and then resigned in order to spend more time in prayer. Healings and spiritual direction filled the remainder of his life.
APRIL 23
George (d. ca. 300)
Strength in Christ
Many great artists have tried their hand at the legend of St. George and the dragon, among them Raphael, Rubens, Donatello, Ucello, and Mantegna. George may well be the most popular saint of all. Christians in both Eastern and Western traditions venerate him. Islam calls him a prophet. George, the dragon slayer and rescuer of a young maiden, was a real person who died for his faith, but the famous fable has no historical basis, and we know next to nothing about his life. The tale about the dragon was included in the Golden Legend mentioned in the Introduction. George was a knight from Cappodocia who rode into a town that was being terrorized by a dragon that lived in a nearby swamp. The residents had attempted to kill it, but its fiery and evil-smelling breath discouraged them. To keep the dragon quiet, they provided two sheep each day for its breakfast. Running out of sheep, they resorted to human sacrifice chosen by lot. One day the ruler’s own daughter became the victim. She dressed as a bride and went to the swamp to meet her doom. At this point, George arrived and attacked the dragon with his lance. Tying up the wounded monster with the young woman’s girdle, George led it into town and said he would kill it if everyone would accept Christ as their Savior. Fifteen thousand people agreed to be baptized, and George dispatched the dragon. Dozens of other outlandish stories about George have circulated since the fifth century. The reforms of 1969 removed George from the universal calendar, but allow this as a day of celebration in various localities.
APRIL 24
Fidelis of Sigmaringen (1577–1622)
Christian service
Sigmaringen was a town in Germany where Mark Rey was born. Mark became a lawyer and took an interest in human rights. They called him “the lawyer of the poor.” His inside view of how the world conducts business filled him with disgust.
Mark’s brother, George, was a Franciscan friar of the Capuchin Order. With that example nearby, Mark quit his law practice, gave his estate to the poor, and became a Capuchin. He took the name Fidelis and began to combine service to the poor with extended hours of prayer. His book of Spiritual Exercises was translated into several languages.
Fidelis led a group of Capuchins to Switzerland in an attempt to persuade people not to follow Calvin and Zwingli into the Protestant Reformation. As Francis de Sales (January 24) would learn, this was an emotionally supercharged issue that carried great risk to life and limb. He signed his last letter, “Brother Fidelis, who will soon be the food of worms.” After an attempted assassination while Fidelis was preaching in the church at Seewis, Switzerland, a Protestant offered him safety in his home, but he declined. He attempted to take the road out of Seewis, but about twenty enraged peasants surrounded and murdered him.
APRIL 25
Peter de Betancurt (1626–67)
Christian mission
Peter descended from Juan de Betancurt, a Norman conqueror of the Canary Islands. By the time he was born in Tenerife, the glory days were gone, and he grew up a poor shepherd boy. As with David, the Old Testament shepherd, the time alone keeping the small family flock groomed a contemplative soul. Peter’s awareness of God grew stronger each day.
Reports from sailors returning from the Americas describing the primitive life of people living there stirred Peter’s interest. In 1650, as a freelance Christian missionary, he sailed for Guatemala where one of his relatives worked for the government.
In Cuba, Peter ran out of money. As a strong twenty-three-yearold man, Peter was able to pay for the remainder of his journey by signing on as a deck hand. After landing in Honduras, he walked to Guatemala City. Destitute, he stood in line for food each day at the Franciscan friary. He received much more than bread. Friar Fernando Espino became a lifelong friend and helped Peter find a job in a textile factory. In 1655, Peter became a Franciscan and began to work with African-American slaves, abandoned children, emigrants, and other people in difficulty.
Peter died at the age of forty-one and is remembered as the “St. Francis of the Americas.”
APRIL 26
Paschasius Radbert (ca. 790–865)
Continuing education
Radbert was an abandoned baby of unknown parentage. Nuns of Notre-Dame at Soissons, France, adopted the foundling near the end of the eighth century. Educated at the monastery of St. Peter, he gained a strong interest in classical literature. Becoming a monk himself, Radbert entered the monastery of Corbie, noted for its outstanding library. With these books at his disposal, he prepared himself to become one of the exceptional theologians of his time. After a brief and unhappy experience as an administrator, he devoted himself to scholarship and writing until his death in 865.
Many of his works survive, the most notable being De Corpore et Sanguine Domini. This book, written for the instruction of monks, is the oldest doctrinal treatise on the presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist. Christ’s presence, he said, is real, but there is no way to measure it because it is a spiritual presence.
APRIL 27
Asicus (d. ca. 490)
Vaith in obscurity
Asicus was an early disciple of St. Patrick (March 17) in Ireland. He became the first bishop of Elphin in County Roscommon. Asicus did not enjoy being a bishop and gave up the position to live a solitary life on an island in Donegal Bay. Fine examples of his work as a coppersmith survive, but there is little record of his life.
APRIL 28
Peter Chanel (1803–40)
Christian missions
Active persecution of Christians in the Roman and Persian Empires ended by the fifth century, but hostilities have continued elsewhere through history. The blood of martyrs has been spilled in Ireland, England and Wales, France, Spain, China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Mexico, Uganda, the Soviet Union, Albania, and Guinea.
It was Pierre Louis-Marie Chanel, the son of a French peasant farmer, who became the first Christian martyr of the South Pacific. As a member of the missionary Society of Mary, Peter had gone to the tropical islands and landed at random on Futuna, one of the French Iles de Horn, northeast of Fiji. He remained there with another young Marist and a European merchant who could help them with the language.
The trio was initially welcomed, but the islanders had a natural suspicion of their motives. Peter’s diary records his difficulty learning the language, the strange customs of the people, and his pastoral visits to the sick. His ministry was a mixture of patience and frustration. “How sorrowful is the lot of a poor missionary who cannot yet preach the truths of salvation!”
Resistance to the missionaries began at the top of the island’s political structure. The “king” began to worry about losing his position and influence should Christianity became strongly established. The Europeans already living on Futuna set a poor example, and the islanders did not like their exploitation of the island. French and British gunboats patrolled the area, protecting the alien traders. These gunboats began to harass the islanders who sat for instruction by the missionaries.
The king’s son requested baptism, and this set off a furor that eventually took Peter’s life. Peter commented, “It does not matter if I am killed. Religion has taken root on the island. It will not be destroyed by my death, since it comes not from men but from God.” A group of islanders attacked and killed him. Less than a year later, all the residents of Futuna were baptized Christian.
APRIL 29
Catherine of Siena (1347–80)
Christian mysticism
The twenty-fifth child of an Italian wool-dyer and cloth merchant, Catherine became a lay Dominican at the age of fifteen. She lived during the turbulent fourteenth century that was marred by wars and the Black Death (bubonic plague). It was a time of fear and anxiety, of turmoil and change. The Church was corrupt; decadence, bribery, and faithlessness thrived. Rome had become a dangerous place, and in 1309, the church leadership fled to a palace in Avignon, France.
Catherine had impressive, mystical religious experiences in the midst of the social chaos that surrounded her. Rather than enter a convent, Catherine decided to remain active in the world. “My cell will not be one of stone or wood,” she said, “but of self-knowledge.” She remained something of a recluse for three years, during which she struggled with doubt, disturbing visions, and inner voices. When she found the courage to laugh aloud, they ceased and Christ appeared to her. She asked him, “Where were you when all of this was happening?” He replied, “I was in your heart.” An ancient biography of Catherine reports that she began to have visitations from Christ every day. In 1367, she abandoned her solitude and began a life of service to others. A few years later, Catherine reported an overwhelming experience of union with God. “My heart could bear it no longer. Love became as strong as death.”
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