Today the church remembers an obscure 11th Century Bishop of the Anglo-Saxon Church who rocked a cool name: Saint Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester and Abolitionist.

Bishop Wulfstan was a Benedictine monk who lived his whole live in Worcester, never venturing further than the last doorpost of the parish he served. He did this because, well, he was so busy. He is the first known Bishop to make it a point to visit all of the parishes in his area systematically and regularly. His goal was to instill a sense of friendship and learning amongst the churches and the people of the area, and he sought to make Worcester a place of learning for the north.

He also fought hard to stop the practice of selling the English as slaves in Ireland, believing that no person could own any other person legitimately.

His fame grew, though he never traveled outside of his little area.

As he traveled from parish to parish, he is said to have recited the Psalter from beginning to end, and if you rode with him he would make you sing the alternating verse. On these trips he also carried a large satchel full of coins which he readily gave out to anyone who asked of it.

He is remembered as a good and kindly Bishop, perhaps the best of his time.

St. Wulfstan is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that you don’t need to be exceedingly well-traveled to be known and make a difference in your own back yard.

-historical bits from Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations

Today the church notes an important feast day that’s not focused on a person, but on a person’s words: The Confession of Saint Peter.

So, this strange feast is the only feast dedicated to words, which feels very appropriate in these days where we’re all seeing, a little too close to home, the power of words.

Words can move us, for good or for ill.

Words can shape worlds, and tear them down.

Today the church remembers Peter’s famous confession, “You are the Christ.” This confession kicks off the Week of Christian Unity for the church, but I have to be very honest with you when I say that the church feels more fractured today than it has in many decades.

Seeing Christian flags used to storm the capitol building a year ago was too much for me.

I’m pondering, on this feast day, what words I follow in the world. What words shape me? What words do I use to shape?

I chose this icon by Russian icon writer Oleg Shurkus for the day because I feel it’s most appropriate for where we are. This is obviously not of St. Peter’s confession, but in the aftermath of his denial and betrayal.

We don’t always live up to our ideals. We sometimes betray our own words. This feels like where we’re at.

Still, there is always a possibility for resurrection, right?

Perhaps on this day when the feasts of the church comes on the heels of our civic MLK feast, these words will suffice for the day:

“The time is always right to do what is right.” -Martin Luther King, Jr.

Today an obscure saint is remembered by the Church, one of the founders of the Religious Society of Friends: George Fox.

Fox, born in England, left his home at eighteen to follow a religious quest, and reportedly had many visions and spiritual awakenings along the way.

He arrived, in time, to the idea that God speaks to the inner-soul, not through the forms and norms of the established church, which put him at odds with his Puritan surroundings. This inward insight became the plumb-line for guidance and faith, above clergy, doctrine, and even scripture itself.

Because of these stated beliefs, as well as his peculiar habits (he wore leather suits and never took his hat off), he was beaten, stoned, and jailed numerous times. Nonetheless, followers continued to flock to his message, including William Penn and Robert Barclay.

His followers became known as “Quakers,” an unpleasant term used to describe these people who refused to make pledges, pay tithes, or make oaths to authority.

Because of Fox and his message, the state passed the Toleration Act of 1689 which formally outlawed religious discrimination (though it continued informally), and left an impression on courts forcing them to struggle with what it means to be “equal before the law.”

-Summary from Pfatteicher’s “New Book of Festivals & Commemorations”-

Today the church remembers a contemporary Norwegian saint who deserves to be remembered more than he is: St. Eivind Josef Berggrav, Bishop of Oslo and Gadfly of the Nazis.

St. Berggrav was born at the end of the 19th Century, the son of the Bishop of Hamar. He planned to be an engineer, but fell in love with Theology and decided that would be his life’s pursuit.

He didn’t enter the ministry immediately upon graduation, spending some time studying the psychology of religion as the editor of a prominent publication dedicated to the topic. It was clear he was wrestling with his own vocation. At the same time, he took up teaching.

Finally in 1919, he was ordained by the Church of Norway and appointed to the rural parish of Hurdal. In 1925 his ministry took a jaunt directly northward, as he was elected the Bishop of Tromso on the arctic plains of Norway, close to the land of the Lapps. These fur trappers, fishermen, and sea people taught him how to be a Bishop of the church

In 1937 he was appointed Bishop of Oslo, and soon after the President of the World Alliance for Promoting International Friendship through the churches. The world was on the brink of war at the time.

In 1940, after the Nazi invasion of Norway, St. Berggrav was named one of the negotiators assigned to assess the intentions of the Nazi occupation.

He lasted two days in the post before resigning in protest, saying that he would never compromise with them. From this stance, he led a formal opposition to Nazi interference, focusing on the independence of the clergy and the sacred rights of the Jewish people.

This, obviously, upset the powers that be. They stripped him of his bishopric and his clerical credentials, and they put him on house arrest. In protest, 797 of the 861 priests of the Church of Norway resigned on Easter Sunday, showing what resurrection-in-action truly looks like.

Feeling Berggrav was the primary instigator of this rebellion, he was imprisoned in a solitary log cabin on the outskirts of Oslo under the edict of Hitler himself.

An underground church quickly formed in Norway, continuing the life of the faithful in exile. In something out of a spy novel, Berggrav donned a disguise and escaped from his log cabin, hiding out in Oslo until the liberation of Norway in 1945.

After the war, Berggrav lobbied for greater participation by the laity of the church in ecclesial affairs. He became a leader in the World Council of Churches and the Lutheran World Federation, and served until he fell ill in 1950. He died on this day in 1959.

A prolific writer, Berggrav published half a dozen books in his distinguished career, the last entitled When the Fight Came about his disobedience to the Nazi regime.

St. Berggrav is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that there are some things you can’t compromise on.

-historical pieces inspired by Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations

A 4th Century Saint is honored by the church on January 13th: St. Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers and Hymnwriter.

Hilary (think “happy” or “hilarious,” because his name is derived from the Latin for fun/cheerful) was born in Gaul to powerful pagan parents. He was not baptized until relatively later in life, at age 30, and in the year 350 he was made bishop of Poitiers by popular demand, though he was already married and had never been ordained!

Throughout history, good order has often been circumvented by the desires of the masses, for good and for ill.

St. Hilary bucked Emperor Constantinus in not going along with the Emperor’s demand that Western Bishops adhere to a compromised Nicene faith, and for this he was banished to Phrygia in Asia Minor.

There he continued his work as a theologian, writing On the Trinity while in exile, a foundational document for the early church.

In 360 he was allowed to return to his post at Poitiers to great acclaim, and he became the most respected Latin theologian of the time, and is lauded as one who brought Eastern wisdom into the Western church largely due to his time in exile and learning from those in Asia Minor.

He is also remembered as having written the first Latin hymns. Having been influenced by Greek hymns during his exile, he brought many back and created Latin versions of them while also writing new hymns altogether for the Western church. He was disappointed with the ability of the people in Gaul to carry a tune, however, and complained that they were “unteachable in sacred song.” I guess you can’t always have a win.

Hilary is remembered as being one intensely focused on Orthodoxy, but also as one who, due to his life experience, broadened and expanded the practices of the church.

Oh, and fun fact: I passed by the parish of St. Hilary weekly when I lived on the north side of Chicago.

St. Hilary is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that sometimes spending some time in exile, on the outs, at the margins, can be a blessed time of learning where the gems of the wilderness can be mined and brought back into the center of life.

-historical pieces gleaned from Pfatteicher’s New Book of Festivals & Commemorations

Today the church observes Aelred, Abbot of Rievaulx and Good Friend.

Born in the 12th Century, Aelred was the son and grandson of Saxon priests. He was sent to work in the home of King David of Scotland at a young age, and when he entered adulthood experienced some deep inner struggle of an unknown nature.

All we know is that he was conflicted.

To help discern his angst, he entered a Cistercian Order at Rievaulx and soon gained a reputation as kind, wise, and a good friend to all.

His greatest mark left on the world was his capacity for profound sympathy, and he went on to write Spiritual Friendship, a reflection on the goodness of having and being a true friend in life.

The good Abbot was known to create deep, meaningful friendships, and hold these up as the pinnacle of godly relationship.

“A friend praying to Christ on behalf of his friend, and for his friend’s sake desiring to be heard by Christ, directs his attention with love and longing to Christ; then it sometimes happens that quickly and imperceptibly, the one love passes over into the other, and coming as it were, into close contact with the sweetness of Christ himself, the friend begins to taste his sweetness and to experience his charm.”-Spiritual Friendship

St. Aelred is a reminder to me, and should be for everyone, that sometimes the best thing you can be in this world is a good friend.

After all, if the only thing anyone remembered us for is our deep capacity for sympathy and friendship, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world…

Be a good friend today.

Today the church remembers a simple, humble saint who dedicated his existence to prayer and presence: Brother Lawrence, Mystic and Monk.

Brother Lawrence was born in the early 17th Century in Lorraine, France. We do not know much about his childhood, other than to say that he received very little schooling. He served a stint in the army, but one day had a mystical vision that gave him a new direction.

While gazing at a stark tree in the middle of a French winter, Brother Lawrence received an overwhelming feeling of grace and a deep sense that God was present. He saw in that moment that he, like that tree, was waiting for God’s blooming in his life…which could happen at any moment.

Brother Lawrence took this experience and went off to Paris, joining the Carmelite monastery there as a lay brother.

He was given the base tasks of caring for the monastery, but in his repetitive work he found an avenue to integrate spirituality into every mop swing, every dish scrub, and every menial task given him. He began what he called the “practice of the presence of God.”

He devoted each small task to the Divine, turning every moment into an opportunity for prayer.

Brother Lawrence is a reminder for me, and can be for the whole church, that the small, simple things when done faithfully are a gift to the Divine and to the world.

In fact, I’d go further to say that small, simple communities of faith, parishes, churches, embody Brother Lawrence best when they do their small bit with great attention and devotion.

-historical bits gleaned from Claiborne and Wilson-Hartgrove’s A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals

Today is a feast day that, while not honored throughout the church, is especially reverent in African communities throughout Argentina, Paraguay, and Uruguay: Saint Balthazar, King of Macedonia and one of the Magi who sought out the infant Christ.

Saint Matthew’s Gospel does not name the Magi, nor does the writer even number them. The names, and their numbering, are all part of lore. So, where did we get the names of the Magi?

I’m glad you asked!

The names of the Magi are derived from a 6th Century Greek manuscript that was translated into Latin and widely distributed. There we read that the Magi who visited the Christ after following astrological signs were named Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar. Of the three, Balthazar developed a particularly powerful following, mostly because it was purported that he was the Magi who carried the myrrh, the most mysterious and tragic of the “gifts” given to the infant Jesus.

The Venerable St. Bede describes him as being a black man with a long beard which, while surely conjecture, struck a tone with many parts of the church that were under represented in depictions of the scriptures, especially as the whitewashing of the Bible had largely been completed by then.

In short: Saint Balthazar provided an opportunity for much of Christendom to see themselves in the story when they had largely been erased and replaced.

Today in many parts of South America, in non-Covid days, you’d find festivals and street parades honoring St. Balthazar and his elegantly morbid gift of myrrh. He is the patron saint of those who work with saws, thunder, those with epilepsy, and those manufacture playing cards (I have no idea why), and of the three kings of lore, is the most popular.

Tradition has him being entombed at Cologne Cathedral in Germany, having been moved there from the original resting place of Constantinople (or is it Istanbul?). There the legend says his remains are kept with his other two companions at the Shrine of the Three Kings.

Now, all of this is legend and lore, from the top to the bottom. So why bother noting this feast day at all?

We must remember that while religion is Divinely inspired is is held in cracked clay jars of the human imagination. This feast day speaks to a wide swath of humanity and, in the Biblical narrative, plays an important part in Matthew’s Gospel. The gift of myrrh to the infant Jesus is a foreshadowing of his death, a little “flash forward” the Gospel writer provides for the ending of the story.

Indeed: the Jesus story is no story at all without the myrrh-y part.

So Saint Balthazar is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, of at least two things:

First: the whitewashing of the Bible (making all the characters European) is a disgrace and should absolutely be repudiated as a practice.

And secondly: the legends and lore of the faith still speak, and are still worth remembering and honoring as long as that remains true.

-Icon written by Hieronymous Bosch

Today the church remembers a chatty 4th Century saint who, despite his best efforts, was terrible at living alone: St. Basil the Great, Bishop and Patron Saint of Extroverts.

St. Basil was born into a wealthy Greek family around the year 330AD. He was raised by his grandmother and pious parents, was well educated, and was influenced in early adulthood by a charismatic Bishop of the church, Eustathius of Sebaste. This influence compelled him to be baptized and spurred a spiritual awaking.

Feeling a call to the ministry, he left his practice of law and education to go where the monastics roam. Traveling to Palestine, Egypt, and Syria, studying the ascetics and the monastic life, he mindfully distributed his wealth to the poor and tried his hand at living the life of a hermit.

He was terrible at it.

He missed talking to people, and found his brain to be a poor conversationalist.
So, he decided to gather around himself a group of like-minded people, thereby effectively creating the first intentional monastic community of the church. His writings and reflections of this time became formative for Eastern Monasticism, and he’s generally thought of as the founder of the first monastic settlement.

As his stature and practice grew, and as his writings were circulated, St. Basil became a respected theologian and practitioner of the faith. He attended the Council of Nicaea and was a strong voice for Orthodoxy.

In 362AD St. Basil was ordained a Deacon in the church, and then a presbyter as his influence grew. He joined with St. Gregory in full-throated repudiation of Arianism (an ancient heresy), and eventually became the administrator of the Diocese of Caesarea.

In 370AD he succeeded Eusebius as Bishop of Caesarea. Though he had some bad blood with a few neighboring priests and bishops (if you think we have theological squabbles today, read some of the stuff coming out of the 4th Century church!), St. Basil was also known to see the best in people, even his opponents. He was also exceedingly generous with his money (he barely kept any) and his time, known for being on the front lines of the local soup kitchen in times of famine.

St. Basil’s writings an example, especially those regarding care for the poor and the sick, continue to confront Christians today. He did not mince words.

My favorite Basil line has him writing in a pastoral missal, “The shoes left unworn and rotting in your closet are meant for those without shoes, as is the food in your pantry and the unused coat.” And he was known for living this out, not just preaching about it.

The date of his death is unknown, probably sometime in the late 4th Century of liver disease and poor health probably brought on by leading an extremely ascetic lifestyle, but his memory lives on.

St. Basil the Great (as he is now known) is a reminder for me, and should be for the whole church, that proximity is primary. You must be around the people you serve to know them, and you must engage with others, even if you disagree with them.

-icon written by Kreg Yingst