Historical Setting: 793 C.E. Lindisfarne
Returning across the North Sea, I have passage on a merchant ship, an old-styled galley, not as fast and fit as the ships of the marauding Norsemen but crosses the waters then hugs the coast all the way back to Lindisfarne.
Arriving on the island, I find the bishop is currently at his quarters on the mainland. Brother Ealdwin isn’t alone here though. The few monks who had left with the bishop have returned and are keeping the hours and grieving together over the great losses here.
When it is high tide this monastery is like any other, a place of daily work and prayer, smothered in the tranquility as a thin place for listening to God. But when the tide recedes, pathways open to all that is of earth: pilgrims and blessing seekers bringing golden gifts and earthly woes come and go on the land path. The thin space between the mystical realms isolates into a clearer distinction between earth and heaven.
Seeking the bishop to deliver his message from Alcuin, I await the low tide to cross over to the mainland.
Bishop Higbald has a fine home befitting any earthly nobleman, as do all the bishops I have encountered in Gaul. His guards are not monks, but military guards who guide me to his library where I wait with the message from his friend, Alcuin.
“Ah, Brother Eleazer, was it?”
“Close enough. I have been with your friend, Alcuin, the king’s teacher, who is grieving with you over the sad news from Lindisfarne. He took a few days of thoughtful prayer and study, apart from his teaching duties, to prepare this answer.”
The bishop chooses to read it privately so I’m excused to wait outside. He emerges from his study with the message for me to take back to the monks and pilgrims at Lindisfarne announcing a public reading of Alcuin’s letter following the third low tide. That will be the day after tomorrow in the morning.
At this time of the rising tide now, I am ferried back to the island by the rower with the bishop’s skiff.
Here on the sandy beach in the wash of the tides, are several of the monks, including Brother Ealdwin. They are doing the task Ealdwin began, of carving sandstone grave markers for the monks we buried. The motifs are eschatological – the coming of the Christ – the resurrection of all saints. It looks to be a long 9th century before us, always in awe and maybe in fear of the millennium.
(Continues Tuesday, September 2)
Lazarus Ink 