Heavenfield

I have recently been reading Thomas O’Loughlin’s Celtic Theology, and his discussion of Celtic theology as a local theology, not a separate theology, seems spot on to me. O’Loughlin is not a fan of much of the neo-Celtic works that are at best misleadingly selective and at worse historically careless. As Bede ceaselessly asserted, the Irish were not Pelagians! O’Loughlin notes that the Irish (and Britons/Bretons) always had more in common with the rest of Christendom than that which differentiated them. Celtic theology is a local flavor, not a new creation.

All insular peoples, including the Irish, were always thirsty for knowledge from the continent. Recall that one of the works of Adomnan of Iona was De Locis Sanctus (On the Holy Places) where he describes the Holy Land and part of the Eastern Empire (including probably the first description of St. George in Britain). Bede’s abbreviation of it, his ‘On the Holy Places’, was one of his earliest works, and he discusses it in his History. Unfortunately, most people only know it through Bede’s summaries. Adomnan’s Life of Columba uses Gregory the Great’s Dialogues, Constantanius’ Life of Germanus of Auxerre, the Life of Anthony and the Life of Martin, sometimes explicitly and sometimes as role models. Famously for Oengus the Culdee, Germanus of Auxerre, the anti-Pelagian champion, was the ‘Sun of our elders, the tutor of Patrick of Armagh’. Adomnan draws a direct parallel between Germanus and Columba (book II chapter 35 ).

Celtic Christianity to me, in my present context, is filtered through the lens of the local theology of the Anglo-Celtic church of Northumbria as it crystallized around the life and legacy of St. Cuthbert and the works of Bede. Even in the time of Bede, Columba, Oswald, and Aidan were constructs – part history, part theology, and part legend. I call this local theology Anglo-Celtic or Hiberno-Roman because it is a blending of the legacy of Iona with the rules of Rome. In my usage, Anglo-Celtic most specifically refers to the first and second generation after the synod of Whitby. In the broad scope of history, the Anglo-Celtic period was short, roughly from 634/664-793, but its legacy lasts until today. We have to look no further than the greatest Anglican treasures (ex. Lindisfarne Gospels), artistic motifs (Celtic cross), and theological impact (Bede’s works) to see its legacy.

I absolutely believe that Bede was Anglo-Celtic. He was surely a devout Roman and Benedictine, but we need only look at his ecclesiastical heroes in his History to see where his heart lies.

• Aidan, his model bishop, who brings Irish theology and its monastic practice to England.
• Cuthbert who makes Aidan’s lifestyle acceptable to Rome.
• Boisil who teaches Cuthbert and prods Egbert (via a vision to an associate) to begin his mission to Iona. (perhaps Bede’s personal role model)
• Egbert who converts Iona to Rome. With this accomplishment Bede brings his History to a climatic conclusion. It is worth noting that Egbert provides evidence that Bede was in contact, directly or indirectly, with Iona within his last 5-6 years. In his Greater Chronicle of 725, Bede records Egbert’s mission without calling him a saint, as he does in the summary of his History written in 731. Bede seems to know of Egbert’s recent translation (ie like canonization) in the intervening years.

To be sure, Bede also had Roman heroes: Gregory the Great and Theodore being the most significant; this blending of Roman and Irish was a hallmark of Northumbrian theology. Bede’s world was full of such blended influence. The Rule at Wearmouth-Jarrow seems to have been primarily Benedictine, but not completely. In his History of the Abbots, Bede tells us that Benedict Biscop compiled their Rule from the 17 monasteries he had lived in and that Biscop spent his formative years at Lérins in southern Gaul. He had also been abbot of the monastery of St. Peter and St Paul in Canterbury (later renamed St. Augustine’s) for two years, before founding St Peters at Wearmouth and St Pauls at Jarrow.

Northumbria had its own local theology, specific to a time and place. I can study it, I can appreciate it, I can inform my own theology by it, but I can’t be a practitioner of it, my knowledge is too incomplete and always will be. We are fortunate to have a wealth of Northumbrian material. In addition to the works of Bede, we have anonymous Life of Cuthbert (Lindisfarne), Anon Life of Gregory the Great (Whitby), Anon Life of Coelfrith (Jarrow), Stephan’s Life of Wilfrid (Romanist Ripon), Miracles of Nynia (Whithorn), Calendar of Willibrord, and potentially the works of Alcuin. If we want to study and appreciate Northumbrian local theology and history, we must begin with these primary sources. Most of the Northumbrian works are available in translation; many of them are online at least in part. The Age of Bede contains translations of a wide variety of Northumbrian material for a reasonable price. There are also reasonably priced editions of Bede’s History and Adomnan’s Life of Columba.

[Note: If you are not familiar with the geography of early medieval Northumbria, it is essentially co-extent with the territory of the modern Anglican Archbishop of York.]

Occasionally you will hear that the Church of England has not been in such a crisis since Whitby, and that may indeed be true. The Synod of Whitby occurred 1343 years ago and interpretations of what happened and its legacy are still controversial. For Canterbury, Whitby is the vital synod that united the church in England under the Archbishop of Canterbury. So the current crisis threatens to break a unity that has held (in theory) since Whitby in 664. I say in theory because this unity selectively avoids the many schisms in the Church of England that began with the Reformation. The monarchy’s recognition of the Church of England has allowed them to retain continuity of their property and the claim to be ‘the’ Church of England no matter how many splinter groups, like the Baptists and Methodists, have left them, and the Roman Catholics in England who endure.

I wonder how many people outside of England really know very much about the Synod of Whitby? Not many in my part of the US… so I’ll give a little summary of the synod and its back story here.

England was primarily converted by two missions coming from opposite directions. Pope Gregory the Great sent Augustine to England in 596 and his mission field was limited to Kent, Essex, and East Anglia. They temporarily extended their mission to York but this fell apart when King Edwin of Deira (Yorkshire) was slain by a British Christian, King Cadwallon of Gwynedd (North Wales). From then on, Canterbury’s missionary field remained south of the River Thames and its estuary. After Edwin’s death, Oswald left his exile in Scotland (Dalriada) and took the northern kingdom, Northumbria, back from Cadwallon at the battle of Denisesburna (the morning after events at Heavenfield). Oswald then invited Iona, where he had been baptized, to send a missionary to his kingdom. Iona, like many of the Irish (and Scots and Welsh) did not recognize the authority of Rome. Aidan arrived by about 635 and Oswald gave him Lindisfarne (Holy Isle) for a monastery and missionary base. From Lindisfarne, Irish missionaries fanned out over England. When the synod of Whitby was called in 664, the church of Iona via Lindisfarne controlled all of England north of the Thames and had expanded to at least three bishops — Lindisfarne (for Northumbria), Litchfield (for Mercia), and one for Essex.

The cause of the Synod of Whitby was three fold:

1. Iona and Rome used different Easter calculations, so they occasionally celebrated Easter on different days.
2. Tonsure and baptismal rites differed.
3. Iona refused to recognize the authority of Rome.

Ironically, it is known as the Easter controversy because all parties claimed that the calculation of Easter was the most important point. How the Irish came by their calendar is unclear but they at least believed that it was based on the teachings of John the Evangelist and the Eastern Fathers.

The great controversy came to a head at the Synod of Whitby where King Oswiu would decide for his kingdom and his hegemony who would lead his church, Iona or Rome. It is not accurate to say that it was only a Northumbrian affair because the Bishop of Lindisfarne functioned as a Archbishop for Mercia, Lindsey, Middle Anglia and Essex as well. Abbess Hild was the hostess (ie. administrator) of the synod and Irish trained Bishop Cedd of Essex acted as interpreter.

The accounts we have of the synod, from Bede’s History and Life of Bishop Wilfrid, both present a slanted version of the outcome that basically came down to who was a greater saint, St. Columba of Iona or St. Peter of Rome. Supposedly, King Oswiu was too afraid to side against St. Peter because he held the keys of heaven. Ultimately, the simplicity and poverty of the Irish lifestyle did not compare well with all that Rome could offer. Like so many Germanic nobles before them, Oswiu (and Wilfrid) saw Rome as the road to civilization, glory and wealth. By deciding for Rome, King Oswiu united all of the English church under the Archbishop of Canterbury.

What followed the synod ripped society apart probably in ways that no one anticipated, including King Oswiu. Bishop Colman refused to accept Oswiu’s decision. Colman, all of the Irish clergy, and 30 English men they trained left England for Iona and ultimately Ireland. (For this early in the conversion period, this was a large percentage of the total clergy in northern England.) This tore the heart and soul out of the northern church. At Colman’s suggestion, the Irishman Tuda was chosen as the next Archbishop of Lindisfarne and Eata was chosen as the next Abbot of Lindisfarne. King Alhfrith pushed his father to allow Abbot Wilfrid, the Roman spokesman at the synod, to be ordained Bishop of York. Wilfrid was sent to Gaul, because they claimed there were no worthy bishops in England to ordain him. The bishops of England had been ordained by the Irish and were therefore contaminated. The Romanists went so far as to insist that all Irish ordained clergy be intensely re-examined and re-ordained, at their discretion. Imagine being a bishop and being told that you have to be re-ordained as a deacon, then a priest and maybe a bishop — that happened to St. Chad, Bishop of Litchfield (brother of Bishop Cedd). Former Episcopal priests still go through this process today when they join the Roman Catholic Church. However, the actions of the Synod of Whitby didn’t give individual priests and monks a choice. If they were to remain in their homeland, they had to convert.

As the effects of the synod rolled across England, so did another equally grim crisis. The plague had reached Kent early in the year. It killed the Archbishop of Canterbury and the King of Kent first (probably before the synod) and then rolled north where it killed Bishop Cedd as he visited his monastery of Lastingham in Yorkshire and then claimed Tuda, the new Irish Bishop of Lindisfarne. The loss of Tuda and Cedd meant that there were no sympathetic bishops left in England to protect the lifestyle of the Irish trained clergy. At some point within the next two years, King Alhfrith rebelled against his father and is not heard from again. Wilfrid conveniently came home after the plague and his patron Alhfrith were both gone. The conflict continued for the rest of this generation and Wilfrid was a problematic prelate for the next 40 years.

I hope this has given you a taste of what the Synod of Whitby was like, but I don’t think I’ve really captured the passion. Keep in mind that most churchmen of the time lived in monasteries, and this profoundly changed the Rule of every monastery. Men and women who lived very ordered lives where forced to change and remembered this period as a very brutal time. It also submitted abbots to the authority of bishops, where under the Irish the abbots and monasteries had been independent of bishops.

Changing to a new calendar and accepting the authority of bishops may not seem very earth-shaking. There were other changes in various rites and changes in monastic rules that were stiffly resisted as well. Consider some of the tension now about adopting the Revised Common Lectionary when you think of the calendar adjustments (my diocese still doesn’t use it), or arguments over a new prayer book. Part of our controversy today is over increasing authority of the primates (and accepting the decisions of synods and current primates!). The change this brought in 7th century England would be like forcing today’s Presbyterians to accept bishops again (or turning the Archbishop of Canterbury into a Pope).

It is instructive for today that most of the harm after Whitby occurred because the Irish clergy and so many Irish trained Englishmen abandoned their churches and returned to Iona when they lost their case. To be fair, Colman left Tuda and Cedd as sympathetic bishops, but the plague carried them away. The protection they left behind was too thin to protect the lifestyle of those who would not abandon their homeland. The rest of Ireland (outside of Iona’s network) accepted Rome with much less hassle and pain because their basic lifestyle remained intact. Meanwhile, Iona had to be stripped of all its missions and the loss of most of its prestige within Ireland before they were eventually converted to Rome in c. 716 by Egbert, a missionary English bishop. By then its network was in tatters, they had been reduced to a network barely larger than when St. Columba died in 597.

So much changes and yet so much remains the same. Today again, bishops who refuse to accept the will of their national synod/convention are tearing the heart out of the church. They could draw some lessons from Iona’s fate.

In my previous post on the feast of St. Brendan, I mentioned that Adomnan’s use of Brendan of Birr is odd. Then in the last few weeks I’ve read the newest paper by James Fraser on Drum Cett (Early Medieval Europe, summer 2007) that is largely about how events portrayed as being from Columba’s life refer to Iona’s present issues in c. 700. Interactions between monastic families in Adomnan’s day are represented by discussions between their founders in the Life of Columba. Columba meets so many monastic founders, because these scenes represent interactions between Iona and the founder’s monastery in c. 700.

This has made me wonder about the coincidence of Adomnan getting ratification of his ‘Law of the Innocents’ at the Synod of Birr in 697 and Brendan of Birr giving counsel not to confirm Columba’s excommunication (Life of Columba III: 3).

The gist of this passage is as follows: Columba is coming to a synod “convoked against him”. Brendan of Birr sees Columba coming and rises to warmly greet him. The others rebuke Brendan for welcoming an excommunicate.

“If you” replied Brendan, ‘had seen what the Lord deigned to disclose to me today, concerning this chosen one whom you refuse to honour, you would never have excommunicated him. For in no sense does God excommunicate him in accordance with your wrong judgement, but rather glorifies him more and more.” (Sharpe trans, p. 207)

They challenge why he believes this, he explains a heavenly vision, and “the elders dropped their charge, for they dared not continue with their excommunication.”

This is the only time Adomnan mentions Columba’s reputed excommunication. It is mentioned in no previous sources. Such an important event should have been recorded somewhere, the annals or elsewhere in Iona’s literature, or Bede’s history, or some other saints’ life. Bede and Iona’s opponents in Northumbria surely would have seized on an excommunication of Columba as further fodder for their case against Iona in the long and drawn out dispute over Iona’s recognition of Rome’s primacy (and the Easter question) that was settled for England at Whitby. That Columba’s reputed excommunication comes up no where among the writings of Iona or her opponents is very strange indeed.

Could it be that the excommunication in question was really of the family of Iona in c.697? Adomnan’s triumph occurred on the 100th anniversary of Columba’s death; this is not likely to be a coincidence. Did Adomnan, along with allies at Birr, call the great counsel to respond to Iona’s critics? Could the ‘Law of the Innocents’ be a statement of where Iona’s heart was, to prove to the rest of Ireland that they were not heretics? Given Columba’s reputation as a patron saint of war, the Law of the Innocents’ protection of women, children and clerics from war could be seen as an extension of Columba’s martial protective sphere. St. Columba mediates victory for his friends and protects the innocent. Perhaps Adomnan’s triumph at Birr forestalled Iona’s excommuncation from the other churches of Ireland.

[Note that the text of Cain Adomnan (Law/Cannon of Adomnan) as we have it today is not the original of the law. The surviving law treatise calls on Adomnan, now considered a saint in his own right, to enforce the law. Given that Cain Adomnan was proclaimed on the 100th anniversary of Columba's death makes it very likely that the origianl law by the Abbot of Iona, considered co-abbot with St. Columba, referred to Columba.]

How can Adomnan address Iona’s current peril in the Life of Columba? He does it by the same way he has addressed other current issues, by working a meeting of Columba with the symbolic representation of Birr (Brendan of Birr) into the Life. If we see this episode as representing anything in the Adomnan’s present, then the impending confirmation of Columba’s excommunication must refer to Iona’s perilous position realitve to the other churches that had already accepted Rome’s authority. Brendan of Birr saves Columba, just as the synod of Birr may have temporarily spared Iona. Later in the Life, Columba returns the favor and sees of vision of Brendan of Birr entering heaven. You honor my saint, I’ll honor yours…

The multiple late stories of Columba’s excommunication then are all likely fictional to give a back story to Adomnan’s remarkable oversight on the cause of Columba’s reputed excommunication and exile. Given that Columba’s most important relic in the later middle ages is a psalter in a book shrine that was carried before the armies of Scotland for centuries, it is not surprising that at least one story of the excommunication involved Columba’s copying of this psalter, and a more elaborate version includes a battle over the book. It wasn’t Columba’s excommunication that made the book special, it was the book that created the copyright story to explain the reputed excommunication. Columba’s unusual association as a patron saint of war has given rise to elaborate modern scenerios for his excommunication as well. I find it more likely that Adomnan is once again working out his current problems in the text of the Life of Columba, and that Columba had never been really excommunicated.

Heavenfield is a rural site near Hadrian’s wall, within the medieval monastic estate of the Abbey of Hexham. This rural patch of pasture is far from the traditional holy sites in Britain and yet it has a number of saints associated with it that could rival anywhere else in England. Here is a synopsis of the Heavenfield saints:

1. Oswald, King and Martyr, who raised the cross at Heavenfield during the summer of 634 is, of course, the primary saint of this site.
2. Columba of Iona: Columba died before Oswald was born. According to Adomnan, Oswald had a dream of St. Columba on a night before the battle of Denisesburna (ie at Heavenfield). There should be no doubt that as a convert of Iona who looked to Iona for his missionaries, Oswald would have considered St. Columba to be the primary local saint of his kingdom. Oswald’s vision is one of the (relatively) few posthumous miracles/visions in Adomnan’s Life of Columba.
3. Audrey of Ely (Æthelthryth), Queen of Northumbria was married to Oswald’s nephew from c. 660 to 672, and queen of Northumbria only from 670-672. We know that Hexham (with Heavenfield) was given to her as a wedding gift and from Bede, that she maintained her own separate household run by staff from East Anglia. It is therefore possible that Audrey lived at Hexham for the first ten years of her marriage. Her refusal to consummate their marriage only became a problem when Ecgfrith became king and his need for a heir became dire. Audrey may have only come to live with Ecgfrith when she was required to take on the responsibility of being queen. When she was allowed to leave her marriage to enter the church, she gave the estate of Hexham (with Heavenfield) to Bishop Wilfrid to found a monastery.
4. Wilfrid, Bishop of York: When Wilfrid won the debate at the Synod of Whitby, he ended Lindisfarne’s control of the Northumbrian church and put it and the rest of England under the authority of Rome. This officially undid the last of King Oswald’s political legacy. In 672-3 Bishop Wilfrid gave Queen Audrey the veil of a nun and took the estate of Hexham for a monastery. Wilfrid built the Church of St. Andrew at Hexham as a glory of the North. Wilfrid’s attitude to Oswald and Heavenfield probably waxed and wained based on his relationship with Oswald’s nephews Ecgfrith (r. 670-685) and Aldfrith (r. 685-705). At the very least, Wilfrid did not repress the site. Given Wilfrid’s role in ending Lindisfarne’s dominance, he may have relished controlling such an important Oswaldian site. Bede’s account of Heavenfield, relaying the official position of Hexham, is definitely more Romanized than Adomnan’s account. After his second exile from Northumbria, he returned as Bishop of Hexham from c. 705 to his death in 709.
5. Eata of Hexham: He was probably Aidan’s oldest and most trusted English pupil, one of his original twelve English disciples. He was the first known Abbot of Melrose, seemingly while Aidan was alive. He later founded the monastery of Ripon, but was forced to hand it over to the young Romanist Wilfrid. After the Synod of Whitby, Eata became the first English Abbot of Lindisfarne. He was the first bishop of the diocese of Lindisfane and Hexham combined (c. 679-685) and then Hexham alone (685-c.687). As Eata seized the monastery of Hexham when Wilfrid was (first) exiled, his reception at Hexham may have been chilly.
6. Acca of Hexham: Bishop of Hexham after Bishop Wilfrid’s death from about 710-731. The pilgrimages to Heavenfield that Bede describes in his History clearly occurred during Acca’s tenure and the chapel recently built there must have been built by Acca. He was also a major informant of Bede’s on other miracles credited to Oswald. Acca’s material had a clear role in making Oswald acceptable to Romanists and reporting early international veneration in Ireland and Frisia.
7. Adomnan, Abbot of Iona: First person to write about the events of Heavenfield and therefore the first to give the site textual importance. His representation of Oswald as a New Joshua is major step in influencing Oswald’s memory. Adomnan was also the author of the Law of the Innocents enacted at the Synod of Birr in 695 that protected women, children and clerics from the violence of war and women from domestic abuse. Thus, Adomnan’s law was one of the most important ecclesiastical contribution to civilizing early medieval Britain and Ireland, even if the laws enforcement was lackluster.
8. Bede of Jarrow: primary author of all we know on King Oswald and the second account of Heavenfield with the raising of the miracle working cross that he claimed still stood in his day a hundred years later. Bede’s portrayal of King Oswald has had the greatest influence on the development of Oswald’s veneration (as Bede intended).

Honorary saints of Heavenfield:

1. Aidan Bishop of Lindisfarne: Leader of King Oswald’s evangelistic efforts. Although Bede does not credit him with a single convert, Aidan’s mission can be credited with converting over half of England. He is an honorary saint of Heavenfield because he does not have direct association with the site. Of his students, only Eata was stationed at Hexham.
2. Willibrord, Archbishop of Frisia: He was a child of Deira (Yorkshire) and raised at Bishop Wilfrid’s monastery of Ripon. When he left to study in Ireland he took with him a fragment of the stake that held Oswald’s head at Maeserfelth (as Bede reported). He carried the relic to his pagan missionary field in Frisia (Netherlands) and started interest in St. Oswald in Frisia/Flanders and Germany.

Its quite a collection here. Leaving aside the honorary Heavenfield saints, we are still left with shall we say three international saints: Oswald, Columba and Bede. Bede only really making international status in the last century or two, just as Oswald seems to be fading internationally. Pan-English saints Audrey of Ely and Wilfrid of York are remembered in much of the Anglican Communion, if not in the United States. Others are more local Hexham saints: Eata and Acca; while Adomnan is remembered primarily as a scholar with limited local remembrance in Ireland and Scotland. Both honorary saints are recognized internationally by Anglicans and Catholics. Willibrord is the patron saint of ecumenical relationships between Anglican and Old Catholics in Europe.

Blessed St. Columba’s Day!

Today we remember the Apostle to Scotland. An involuntary exile from Ireland, Columba arrived in the Scottish kingdom of Dalriada in the 560s and founded a small monastery on the island of Iona, on the then northern border of Dalriada and Pictland, a likely frontier region between the relatively new Scottish dynasty and the Picts. Columba was politically astute, accepted his potentially perilous location and obtained a royal grant from both the Dalriadan king and the dominant Pictish king of the day. Using his political skills, he becomes a kingmaker advancing Aedan mac Gabran to the Dalriadan throne and then using all his skills to advance Aedan’s career for about twenty years, fostering strong ties between his Irish kin, the Ui Neill, and Dalriada and meanwhile evangelizing Pictland perhaps enforced by Aedan’s military successes in eastern Scotland. It is impossible to ignore that Aedan’s military career begins declining with Columba’s death.

Columba’s political skills are undeniable, but they can not be the main focus of his legacy. Columba built an empire to the glory of God. He instilled in his hundreds, if not thousands, of disciples an unwavering commitment to piety, poverty, study, and evangelism. They were the forerunners of the Franciscans, except that they developed their monastic style as a pure adaption of the monastic fathers Martin and Anthony of Egypt; while the Franciscans reached the same spirit as a reforming reaction to the excesses of their day. Francis had to travel to Egypt to find Muslims to attempt to convert. Columba was surrounded by pagans, his mission field was all around him. Columba also took a more sensible attitude toward poverty; his monasteries would be simple and poor, but self-supporting, relying on the staple of Irish income, cattle alone.

Unfortunately, Columba’s disciples were not as politically astute as he had been. By comparison, Columba must have been a political prodigy. His disciples were unswervingly loyal to his memory and directions to follow his rule. They stubbornly resisted the growing influence and authority of Rome for about 80 years and in the process lost control of at least 75% of their churches and monasteries beginning with their loss at the Synod of Whitby in 664. In the post-Reformation world, this often appears to be a virtue but that is not how Bede or their other contemporaries saw it. Adomnan understood the price they were paying better than most, and wrote the Life of Columba to attempt to shore up Columba’s reputation, but even he couldn’t convince the wider church of Iona that it was time to accept change and save what they could. Writing some thirty years later, Bede made Columba a scapegoat for Lindisfarne’s fall from political power. He understood that his culture would have viewed their loyalty to Columba as a virtue, so their failures must be Columba’s fault. Too often we forget that being a patron saint can cut both ways, praise while his disciples prosper but criticism — even questioning his sanctity — when they fail, particularly for following their master’s directions. Today, of course, we recognize that Columba can not possibly he held responsible for his disciples response to an issue that didn’t even occur during his lifetime. Interestingly Bede takes pains to separate Columba’s death from Augustine’s arrival at Canturbury in the chronological summary of his History. Its almost as if he must prove that the Roman mission began before Columba’s death, even if they didn’t actually arrive in Britain until afterwards. Could Iona have claimed that Columba’s physical presence in Britain had prevented Rome’s arrival? Clearly Columba’s legacy was still an active issue over 130 years after his death. The legacy of this astutely political abbot has always been tied to politics and rose and fell accordingly.

Today, Columba’s popularity is on the rise again making him co-patron saint of Ireland (with Patrick and Bridget) and one of the most popular saints in Scotland with St Andrew and Margaret. The Episcopal Church remembers Columba with the following collect:

O God, by the preaching of your blessed servant Columba you caused the light of the Gospel to shine in Scotland: Grant, we pray, that, having his life and labors in remembrance, we may show our thankfulness to you by following the example of his zeal and patience; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.