The Hidden Saint
a meditation for Saint Hilda
First, a CORRECTION: Advent Begins on December 3rd, This Year!
(Friends, I falsely told you on Monday that it begins November 26th…this is what I get for not double-checking!! My apologies!)
But nevertheless!
If you’re looking for a poetic, daily journey through Advent—steeped in both biblical truth and a passionate love for the natural world—I invite you to explore my devotional, Pilgrim God, now available on Amazon!
This daily Advent companion is $2.99 to purchase outright as an ebook, or Kindle Unlimited users can download and read for free.
I hope it blesses your Advent season!
Before We Begin…
I want to share a Comment Highlight from Monday’s discussion question:
Reader
wrote:Like you, I find autumn a feast for the senses. There's that first chilly touch on the cheek on a late September evening, a harbinger of change to come...woodsmoke in the air...leaves changing color, often with a rainbow of hues on a single branch...evening descending earlier...the irresistible pull inward, toward the fire in the fireplace...spending the dark and rainy afternoon indoors, without excuses. The tiny grey bushtits swarm like a miniature blizzard around the recently replenished bird feeder, while far above the Canadian geese wend their stately way south -- a study in God's contrasts. Nothing happens fast. Everything seems well worth the wait.
So beautifully written, TBollen! Thank you so much for sharing these words with us!
O God our vision
in our mother's womb
you formed us for your glory.
As your servant Hilda
shone like a jewel in the church
may we now delight to claim her gifts
of judgement and inspiration
reflected in the women of this age.
(Collect written by the St. Hilda Community)In the canon of Celtic saints, there are some that stand out like celebrities (such as Patrick, Caedmon, Columba, Brigit), and there are some that simmer under the surface, form a backbone and foundation of faith, of holiness, though many will never know their names.
Tomorrow, on November 17th, we observe the feast of one such hidden but pervasive force of nature: Saint Hilda of Whitby.
Hilda is one of those saints whose name you may never hear, or only hear in passing. But if you know anything about Celtic Christian faith, you likely have her to thank.
Related to royalty through her great-uncle Edwin of Northumbria, Hilda heard the preaching of the monk Paulinus—an emissary from Rome—as a very young woman, and as a result she was baptized. For twenty years after that, she continued to live as an unmarried, high-ranking lady, with no real hint at her future in the faith.
History does not record what flipped the switch that urged Hilda to become a nun, though we know she was mentored by Aidan, and it was he who gave her a plot of land to live out her vocation. From there, she joined a community of nuns at Hartlepool, and then—in an act that would ripple throughout time—she founded a double monastery for monks and nuns in a place then called Streanaeshalch, which we now know as Whitby.
According to the Venerable Bede (a scholar and biographer of many Celtic saints) at Whitby…
“[Hilda] established the same regular life as in her former monastery, and taught the observance of righteousness, mercy, purity, and other virtues, but especially of peace and charity…So great was her prudence that not only ordinary folk, but kings and princes used to come to ask her advice in their difficulties and take it.”
To this day, Whitby is known as the womb from which many Celtic saints and thinkers emerged, such as Caedmon, who was encouraged in his journey as a hymn-writer by Hilda herself. Whitby is also the place where the famous Synod of 664 took place, at Hilda’s invitation, and the Celtic and Roman churches established their differences and cemented their respective takes on theological matters.
This is why, if you claim Celtic Christian roots, Hilda is the faith-filled mother hen to our flavor of beliefs. She is someone to remember, someone to revere.
When I meditate on Hilda, the word that comes to mind is faithfulness. She was clearly a strong, intelligent, compassionate person, someone you did not trifle with, yet someone who made you feel seen. I often picture her striding the stone halls of Whitby Abbey, drenched in the milky light of the Yorkshire sky, aware of each soul looking to her for guidance, praying over them, laughing with them, walking step-by-step with them. And if she was alive today, I’m sure we would often see her with a clipboard in her hand and a pencil behind her ear, delegating away like the professional she was!
But she was also a mother figure to many, many people, someone to be leaned on, someone to be consulted, someone whose perception transcended her gender in a time when women were not often seen as equal to men. She was wise, and she was known for that wisdom. May so much be said of each of us!
And so, my friends, I wish you a very blessed feast of Saint Hilda as we close out the week, with this Benediction:
May the memory of this mothering saint fill each of us with a desire to work tirelessly, (especially in the places where our efforts are largely hidden) to create a sense of Home for those who dearly need it.
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This came to mind- St. Porphyrios said “Nature is the secret gospel.” I was so happy to read that because of the way seasons can teach us. He went on to say “But when one does not possess inner grace, nature is of no benefit. Nature awakens us, but it can not bring us into Paradise.”
Anyway, for whatever reason, this came to mind.
Wonderful woman. She’ll always be the Abbess over those sacred stones.