Value of the Creatures of the Earth

THE VALUE OF THE CREATURES OF THE EARTH

I was reminded of the value of the creatures of the earth during a visit to the island of Iona off the west coast of Scotland.

It was here that in 563AD St. Columba first set foot after his journey from Ireland. Here he founded a monastery which eventually played a significant role in the spread of Christianity throughout Celtic Britain.

Alas, the remains of the monastery have long ago disappeared although the museum of the restored 13^th century Abbey contains many relics of Celtic Britain.

As one approaches the island from the Isle of Mull, one becomes aware how fragile life must have been for those early settlers who lived upon this windswept landscape exposed to the elements from the Atlantic Ocean.

Not only did the monks find comfort from one another but they also found comfort from the creatures of the earth which visited the island.

It is said that St. Columba taught his monks to show hospitality not only to human visitors but also to the birds of the air. He is recorded as telling one of his brothers to look out for a crane flying from Ireland. When it arrived, the monk was to carry it up from the seashore to the abbey and feed it for three days. The bird duly arrived and the monk did as he was instructed. Columba commended him with these words: 'God bless you my son, because you have tended well to our pilgrim guest.’

This well illustrates the love, care and respect which the Celtic saints showed towards the creatures of the earth which they regarded as being as much part of God's creation as they were themselves. The creatures of the earth responded by also showing love, care and respect to the inhabitants of the land.

I was reminded of this when I visited Lindisfarne, commonly known as Holy Island, off the east coast of Northumbria.

It was here that St. Aidan, sent by St. Columba from Iona, founded another monastery. Once again, nothing remains of the original monastery but the ruins of a later one are still preserved.

Again, it is a lonely windswept island, cut off from the mainland twice a day by high tides, exposed to the elements of the North Sea. As I walked the island, I saw a group of youngsters wading along the seashore in the water with an adult and singing aloud in a broad Geordie accent: 'Shine, Jesus, shine'.

My mind went back to the story of St. Cuthbert who, according to the early church historian Bede, also used to walk along the beach at night and stand in the water to say his prayers. We are told in his footsteps two little otters followed who prostrated themselves on the sand licking his feet and warming them with their breath and trying to dry them with their fur.

Not all the Celtic saints, however, lived in monasteries. St. Kevin once lived in a little hut during Lent in Ireland. We are told that when he prayed he would outstretch his hands to the open window. One day a blackbird settled on his outstretched hands and built a nest upon it in which it laid an egg. We are told that St. Kevin was 'so moved that in all patience and gentleness he remained, neither closing or withdrawing his hand; but until the young ones were fully hatched he held it out unwearied shaping it for the purpose’.

This story is still recalled in Ireland where all statues of St. Kevin show him with a blackbird in his outstretched hand.

There are many other stories about the close relationship which existed between the Celtic saints and the creatures of the earth.

Let me recall just one more about St. Mochua, a disciple of St. Columba who lived as a hermit on the island of Iona. His only companions we are told were a cock, a mouse and a fly. Each creature helped him with his works. The cock would crow at midnight to wake him up for Mattins. The mouse would nibble his ear to wake him up for morning prayers. And a fly would walk along each line as he read from the psalter and remain at the place where he finished so he would know where to start again.

Now you may well smile at these stories and think they are a bit far-fetched. I must admit I cannot vouch for the historicity of them. Nevertheless, the fact that there are so many more than demonstrates for me that the Celtic church took the creatures of the earth seriously as being as much part of the created universe as they were themselves.

There was a close bond between human beings and these creatures. There was a shared mutual respect expressed through love and care of each other. There was an enriching of the life of each other and the giving of the glimpse of the God who created not only human beings but also the creatures of the earth.

This Celtic tradition is well expressed in an ancient poem from the Hebrides, recorded by Alexander Carmichael at the end of the nineteenth century.

'There is no plant in the ground

But is full of his virtue,

There is no form in the strand

But is full of his blessing.

There is no life in the sand,

There is no creature in the river,

There is nought in the firmament,

But proclaims his goodness.

There is no bird on the wing,

There is no star in the sky,

There is nothing beneath the sun,

But proclaims his goodness.’

So we join with our Celtic ancestors in thanking God for the creatures of the earth which proclaim the goodness of God each in their own particular way.