Sunday, February 3, 2013

Chapter 9: The Saints of Love

St. Martin of Tours

     
        No matter how powerful the beneficiaries of dualism might be, the angels of Love have always found their way into the hearts of Love's bravest children.  Some of those who followed the Way of Jesus understood that when he said, “I and my Father are one,” Jesus meant that he was one with Father Love, and that he wanted his followers to recognize their own oneness with their divine creator. These were the Way Followers whose hearts and souls stretched beyond the limits of their own egos. They knew Love well, and they shared their love by healing the sick, visiting the lonely, feeding the hungry, and praying for the lost. Most of these followers were ordinary people whose names are written in Love’s book of memories, but not in the pages of a single hardcover or even a paperback.
       The Way Followers whose names are still known in this world are the ones whose acts of love made such an impression on the people of their day that their life stories were passed down from one generation to the next, and written about in history books and religious texts.  The church fathers saw that some of these people were having mystical experiences: seeing angels, or Jesus and his mother, Mary, or performing miracles that astounded those who maintained impenetrable walls between themselves and the nonphysical universe.
       The church fathers realized it would not do for their members to witness miracles being performed by ordinary people like themselves. What would happen if everyone learned to communicate directly with the divine; to heal the sick and perform miracles? There would be no need for a priest to act as an intermediary between layperson and God!   If Christians were on intimate terms with the divine and did not fear for their salvation, the pope and his bishops could not demand that people obey their laws and pay taxes to the church.  They solved this problem by separating the mystics from the masses. A Way Follower who showed compassion for members of the human and animal kingdoms, and anyone who performed a verifiable miracle, or conveyed messages from divine beings would be called a saint. The saints were assigned a special place in heaven, and ordinary people could ask them for divine favors—because ordinary people did not know they had a direct connection to Divine Love.
       Throughout the history of Christianity, fire-and-brimstone preachers have frightened people into joining a particular church, while the saints (including saintly people who have not been canonized) have drawn people closer to the divine with their demonstrations of selfless love. The men and women who became known as saints frequently started out as rebels against the rules of society, because they intuitively knew these rules were not conceived in Love.
       One saint who lived during the fourth century was Martin of Tours, son of a military tribune in Sabaria (now Hungary). Constantine had passed a law requiring young men to take up their father’s professions, so Martin, born with a longing for peace in his heart, was inducted against his will into the Roman army at the age of fifteen.  Although he was made an officer like his father, he did not hold himself above men of lesser rank. In fact, he insisted on polishing his servant’s boots, just as Jesus had washed his disciple’s feet!
     The best-loved story about Saint Martin; the one that shows how connected he felt to Love’s other children, takes place in Gaul, where an 18-year-old Martin rode through the gates at Amiens on a bitter winter’s day, and saw a beggar, dressed in rags and shivering from the cold. Martin looked upon the beggar and saw the Light of Christ shining forth from his haggard face. Martin was dressed in armor and a white cloak whose upper section was lined with lambswool.   He removed his mantle and slashed it in two with his sword, then gave half of it to the freezing man and wrapped the other half around himself. Many observers jeered at the site of this finely dressed officer destroying his cloak for the sake of a lowly beggar, but there were some who realized how blessed they were to witness such a compassionate act of love. 
       Many of the saints chose a life of poverty and self-sacrifice as a way to serve God, and they often had the ability to perceive spiritual entities, as had the shamans of old. Some saw Jesus or his mother, Mary, or angels; and some saw the Light of Christ emanating from everyone they encountered.  Just like the shamans of nature-worshiping cultures, the saints received messages from Love for the benefit of all who would listen to them. One of these was Hildegard of Bingen, who lived in Germany during the eleventh century. Her first experience of the divine took place when she was only three years old, and she felt the Light of Love swell up inside herself.  The Light filled her soul and opened her eyes to the oneness of all things. Later, after her parents had taken her to live in a monastery, she would tell her mentor, Sister Jutta, that she saw God in everything that he had made: plants, animals, and people.  As an adult she would write: “It is God whom human beings know in every creature.”

St. Hildegard of Bingen

       Hildegard was never officially canonized by the Church. Whenever there was a conflict between the laws of the Church and the guidance that she received in the temple of her own heart, Hildegard obeyed that still, small voice. Perhaps this is why she was never canonized, but she has been venerated and loved as a saint within and outside of the Church.
       Hildegard and the saints who came before and after her shared messages of Love with the Christians of their day, even when the heads of the church were focused on building cathedrals, enlarging their membership through any means (including violence), and restricting the beliefs of their members. The saints recognized the oneness of all humanity with creation, and they were able to convey this message to others through their compassionate works and their inspired words.

St. Francis of Assisi

       Francis of Assisi, Italy’s beloved saint who lived in the 13th century, is known for the compassion he extended to every creature, from the outcast leper, to the wolf that terrorized one of the little towns in his native Italy.  No part of creation was less important to Francis than another, and so he would preach to the birds with the same enthusiasm that laced the sermons he gave for human ears. Francis personified nature in his hymn: “The Canticle of the Creatures,” even though the Church Fathers had decreed that divine spirit is limited to the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Christian God created the universe from nothing: creator and creation are separate and distinct. But Francis knew that the Holy Spirit lived in every part of Nature. His song raises the elements from soullessness to membership in the family of Love, and people throughout the past 800 years have been inspired by his words to include all of creation in their worship of the Divine.

Excerpt from “The Canticle of the Creatures” by Saint Francis of Assisi:

All praise be yours, my Lord,
through all you have made,
and first my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day;
and through whom you give us light.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor;
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
All Praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon
and the stars; in the heavens you have made them,
bright, and precious, and fair.
All praise be yours, my Lord,
through Brothers wind and air, and fair and stormy,
all the weather's moods,
by which you cherish all that you have made.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Water,
so useful, humble, precious and pure.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom you brighten up the night.
How beautiful is he, how cheerful!
Full of power and strength. 
All praise be yours, my Lord, through our Sister
Mother Earth, who sustains us and governs us,
and produces various fruits with colored flowers
and herbs. 

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