#85.8 Tuesday, October 20, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.

Mostly in these times other people don’t see history as I do. I see it all in the light of Jesus love, even in the peaceful march to the cross by Jesus among his enemies — the Romans. So, I wonder how the murderous ways of warring kings can ever be assumed a military win and at the same time, blessed by God. All that happened was one king out brutalized the other. Nothing in a war is “God’s side” unless it is caring for the refugees, and forgiving the perceived enemy.

I ask Abbot Mactyre the loaded question.

         “Did these warring kings have no thoughts of the Jesus peace, or were they not even Christian?”

The abbot knows my heart. He laughs at my bent question, as we are sitting here on a sacred rock, the Skellig, believing we are removed from these earthly woes of wars.

         He says, “You realize they claimed they were Christian back in the day, nearly a century ago.”

It is refreshing in these times to find someone else who believes as I do, about war.

         He continues, “But I have to wonder if Æthelwulf was left with a tormented conscience, because, after that win, he took his little five-year-old Prince Alfred on a pilgrimage to Rome.” [Footnote]

         “And did he return then, knowing the Jesus peace?”

         “I don’t think so. Rome is still Rome. On his return this widowed king of West Essex met with Charles the Bald of Francia.” [Footnote]

         “Was he the successor to Charlemagne?”

         “Some generations after. Æthelwulf returned from Wessex with his own child bride, Judith, the daughter of Charles the Bald. This Queen came with the political power of the universe, at least the power of Francia, to the little parceled lands of Enga land. She was twelve years old then.”

         “Really?”

         “Younger than some of Æthelwulf’s sons.  You do realize you have miss-placed more than a century of changes.” 

         “I remember Gaul when it was only healing after the Romans bruised it so badly. So, what all happened in this century when I was awash?”

         “Well, Æthelwulf returned with Queen Judith to continue the reign over Wessex. He had assigned Æthelbald to serve as King when he was gone. But on his return, Æthelbald was unwilling to relinquish the throne back to his father.

         “It sounds so Merovingian of Æthelbald.”

[Footnote] Alfred the Great: Asser’s Life of King Alfred with other contemporary sources, Translated … by Simon Kenes and Michael Lapidge, 1983, The Penguin Press, Middlesex, England.  Blogger’s note: the Asser source and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicals are contemporary to very late in Alfred’s reign, and for the most part tell the same story. Asser, more developed and flavored with his opinions or maybe reflecting popular opinions of these kings and queens. Asser malign’s Aethelbald for not relinquishing the throne here. Another minor difference is that Asser looks upon the pilgrimage to Rome as two separate journeys while the Anglo-Saxon Chronicales sees it as leaving when Alfred is 5, and returned three years later.  (This blogger of a fictional story chooses the long stay in Rome version.)

(Continues tomorrow)

#85.7 Thursday, October 15, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.

Maybe the abbot had hoped to be rid of me when a boat comes with the winter supplies. But these winds signal an early winter and already the sea is too riled for a boat landing. On this day he has taken me aside to talk about things past, even though he forbids his own monks to nurture memories of their old lives.

         “Back in your day, Laz, was lifetimes ago you realize. It was before my grandfather, and I’m only telling you the gossip of the grandfathers now. Surely you realize things have changed everywhere.”

         “So, Vikings are no longer just plunderers and robbers of coastal lands?”

          “In these times the Danes are settling in, making these isles their own homelands. I fear what has happened in the English isle will make over Éire” also.

His news of the changes to England now, astounds me. It would be nothing like the world was when Cloother and I sailed down the wilted Roman coast.

         I ask, “So what of this king Ælfred of Wessex whose death you grieve?”

         “Ælfred was the youngest of the five sons of Æthelwulf who came to the throne in the wake of the reigns of his older brothers, Æthelbald, Æthelberht and Æthelred (the unready). The other brother, the oldest, Æthelstan who famously beat the Vikings in a sea battle, though that was the end of him.”

         “You mean the English fought the Vikings at sea?”

         “The first sea battle ever, it is said.” [Footnote1]

         “Maybe first ever for an English King, but the ancients, the Greeks and the Romans fought at sea all the time. I am just surprised at the temerity of taking on Vikings in English ships.”

         “Æthelstan defeated the Vikings. I’m telling you, this line of kings were wondrous fighters. Just after that, Æthelwulf, their father, the next oldest son, Æthelbald defeated the Vikings again at the Battle of Aclea” [Footnote 2]

         “In England I asked if Kings are born, or made on the battlefield.”

         The abbot answers, “Kings? God knows they are born. But it takes spilled blood before people recognize a king. This grandfather’s history I’ve learned, is only remembered as he remembered it, and only speaks of Kings as earthly power. These kings had to conquer the Vikings, but also battle other English tribes of pillagers. They were winning the lands and Æthelwulf doled out the newly won territories to his sons making them Kings for all to see, little by little bringing the divided lands into one family.

[Footnote1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%86thelbald,_King_of_Wessex (Retreived 2-13-26)

[Footnote 2] Ibid.

(Continues, Tuesday, October 20)


#85.6 Weds., October 14, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.

On this fair October day Abbot Mactyre and I are talking together, considering the century of change I missed while, as he says, I was “awash at sea.” He is telling me of Danish Vikings, who no longer simply fill their coffers with riches then scurry back to the Northlands. Now, they are coming to build their homes and to rule. [Footnote]

         He says, “Here on our own Éire already there is a Danish city, the hub of a settlement. I’ve visited this trade center, Dublin. I’ve seen the safe harbor on our own shore wreaking of dragon ships. The Viking ships are moored right alongside the peaceful trade ships of our good Christian lands.”

         “Maybe having them for neighbors will stop the plunder.”

         “Oh, what you don’t know, innocent Christian? They are even changing the grasses of our lands. Where once our hefty cattle grazed, now sheep nibble the grasses to the root. The trade is ripe for wools and fleeces so everyone raises sheep now. Every woman’s hand fingers a spindle, and the babes are left wanting while their mother winds a ball of yarn.”

         “Why did the Norsemen land here? And why not on the Isle of the Anglo Saxons?”

         “Oh, my man, they would own all of that island were it not for the powerful rule of King Ælfrǣd, bless his soul.”

         I ask, “Ælfred, descended from Æthelred of Northumbria?”

         “He was the youngest of King Æthelwulf of Wessex. Anglo Saxon kingdoms were in many pieces back then. But the reign of Alfred held a promise. I remember exactly the day we heard the news of his death. I was just a novice, an altar boy at Innisfallen Abbey, and I was feeling that hard rule to leave behind my childhood memories of my old life for my holy life ahead. Then, when someone came with the news that one person of earth who gave us the hope the world would soon turn Christian — the one unifying politic we could trust — had died. We feared Engla land would fall to pieces again, and the Danes would take over that land, and then Éire would soon follow. With the death of the English king my hope that the world could heal from its wicked rulers, was erased.”

         I say, “I traveled in that land before it had one name or one king. Every part was its own little kingdom, except East Anglia.  Back in the day they were under King Offa of Mercia.”

         “Back in the day, you say.”

[Footnote] This source offers an overview of the Viking, particularly the Danish settlements in Europe https://www.history.org.u3k/primary/resource/3867/the-vikings-in-britain-a-brief-history?srsltid=AfmBOoqK5zgx6Yf89vjNov_pC0Es8fB84z5PmL5_7B3x-A12nKP8QpCs   (retrieved 2-6-26)

(Continues tomorrow)

#85.5 Tuesday, October 13, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.
 

The abbot and I are considering the changing nature of Viking attacks.

     “So,” I ask, “They chose to raid this place, as hard to approach as it is, simply to take the abbot, prisoner? No offense, but an abbot would hardly make a marketable slave.”

     “The Danes aren’t here just to steal the bounty and scurry back to the Northlands to survive a winter with a hoard of riches, Laz. This is the flexing of the political power. It is not like the old times,” Abbot Mactyre says, reminding me of my lost century. “Now the Danish attacks have changed from plundering trade items, to terrorizing just for the sake of power.”

     “So, you think the Norsemen have their ambitions set on ruling these lands?”

     “I know it. See what they’re doing? They’ve taken power everywhere while you were awash in the sea. On my own homeland of Éire there is a great trading center for the Danes now, Dublin. I’ve been there myself. Everyone around that trading center has changed from raising cattle to raising sheep. Irish farmers trade in wool and fleece with all the great kingdoms of the world. The Danes come with their whole families, to build their houses.” [Footnote]

         “You are saying that Vikings have become neighbors now?”

         “Neighbors? They are Pagans taking young Christian women for wives, and giving us in return all their carved images of snakes and monsters, trimmings for everything — ships, tools, monuments — even crosses. Everything Viking is filled with snakes and sea monsters.”

         “Oh, come now.  They aren’t to blame for the snakes. Before the attack at Lindisfarne that Gospel, which I know well, was already filled with edges and even whole pages of snakes and sea monsters. Snakes and monsters are the cusp between Christian and Pagan we share with the Norsemen and the Irish all the same before any were Christian.”

         “I know, I know, even the great book of Kells, from the scribes of Iona has snakes. Of course, I know the Danes didn’t really bring snakes to Éire. The snakes were already here with the Pagens, and t’was St. Patrick drove off the Pagan ways when he gave us Christianity. And now the Vikings brought it back.”

         “I would think if the Norsemen were making their settlements in these places they would have chosen England to make their homes, closer to their old homeland and already leaning more Pagan.”

         “And so, they have.”

[Footnote]https://www.museum.ie/en-ie/collections-research/irish-antiquities-division-collections/collections-list-(1)/viking/the-viking-age-in-Éire

(Continues tomorrow)

#85.4 Thursday, October 8, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.

The abbot and I are sitting out here on the cistern wall protected from the northwest October winds by the peak of the Skellig. On these cooler days we benefit from the late season sun. At this moment, it is comfortable and beautiful. Thank you, God.

We are considering the vulnerabilities of coastal monasteries even including this one and I have to wonder why such a place as this would be a target for attack.

     The abbot says, “Here, the youthfulness and the physical agility of the monks is a shield against attacks.”

Abbot Mactyre is barely beyond his thirties himself, and he seems old among his monks. He has a streak of silver through his Celtic tonsure. But like the others here, he is fit and agile. Here every person scales these cliffs to find their own tranquility for prayer among the rugged and isolated ledges of this rock.

Maybe he doesn’t realize youthfulness is a temporary life stage and not a permanent condition. I know my own children once looked upon people of age as “others” as though an old person has always been old, and a young person will be young forever.

     I say, “But the fact of the matter is, regardless of what well we drink from, everyone, with the rare exception of a fictional time traveler, passes through life stages. Norsemen, like monks, become older and raids that may have begun as a means of meeting brute survival needs, leave a taste for treasure that becomes greed. And the disease of greed, when not healed with the practice of generosity, becomes an obsession of collecting more and more until old age is nothing more than becoming overrun with unnecessary abundance. Greed leaves its victim overwhelmed and powerless and alone. The thrashing in the painful emptiness leaves the victim famished for power.  And power becomes another obsession.”

         The abbot agrees, “So the elder Vikings hand the swords of greed to the next younger generations, and the attacks are no longer about their need, but more purposed to snatch a meaningless win. The attackers scale the cliffs of the Skellig just for the challenge of the win.  And that is the thing about all wars — they are wrought in a generational tradition of enemies, then fought only by the young.”

(Continues, Tuesday, October 13)

#85.3 Weds., October 7, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.

The abbot and I are considering, again, the question of a saint’s power to protect a monastery from a Viking attack.

     “I was a lay follower of Father Columbanus also named for a dove, and then I was on a mission to deliver a message for him to a council of bishops when I was driven through with a polearm by a bishop’s guard. [Blog post #44] It was a long healing.

     “That would make you a martyr.”

     “Not really. Martyrs have to be dead, like the saints have to be dead for the Church to name them saints.”

He offers his smile, and tells me more of Iona.

      “I visited the abbey of Kells, before I was assigned here, and the terrible tales of Iona were well-known. They’d ‘suffered numerous attacks, starting in the year 795 and continuing in 802, 806, and 825. The massacre of the martyrs of Iona was the result of the raid of 806 AD, where fleets of Vikings stormed the abbey, pillaged it for riches, and killed the monks, who were largely without weapons, and thus defenseless. This was Iona’s first incidence of “red martyrdom”, or the bestowing of martyrdom as a result of violent death by religious persecution. ” [Footnote 1]

     “Had I not been shipwrecked, I would have been there then. And now here I am instead, safe on an island that would be nearly impossible for Vikings to land and then scale the cliffs. or would they climb the world’s most intimidating staircase? They would be all out in open view of any angels looking on. And then what treasure would those attackers find? A single golden chalice?”

     “You might think we’d be safe from attack, but the Great Skellig has already been famously raided, though not as recently or as often as others. It’s been said, ‘ In 823, … Skellig was plundered by the heathen and Abbot Eitgal was carried off and he died of hunger”. Again the Vikings attacked in 838, sacking this church,’ [Footnote 2] and some others on the mainland as well.”

     “So, are you prepared for more attacks?”

     “We stifle rumors of riches, and hopefully, the Norsemen keep the memories of the hard landings and daunting cliffsides for their generations to remember. And of course, our small number of monks are young and strong and agile, gifted in the climbs. They go places for their prayers all the time, where no other man would travel for an earthly purpose. Maybe that would make them safer.”  

[Footnote 1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martyrs_of_Iona (retrieved 1-31-26) This note references (1)“Iona”, Follow the Vikings, University of Stavanger, Norway”. Archived from the original on 23 July 2024. Retrieved 19 June 2024.and (2)

“Iona: A History of the Island”. electricscotland.com. Archived from the original on 28 October 2022. Retrieved 28 October 2022.

[Footnote 2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skellig_Michael  retrieved 1-30-26 and [28] /ref. to Gray, Martin. “Skellig Michael”. World Pilgrimage Sites. Retrieved 27 July 2021.

(Continues tomorrow)

#85.2 Tuesday, October 6, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time 924 C.E.

     Speaking to the present abbot of the monastery at the Great Skellig, “My unique gift (if it is a gift and not a curse) leaves me wandering strange new times with only an infant’s knowledge of the now. So, I ask you my first most haunting question — what is this year and this century?”

The abbot answers, “The year is 924 as years have been numbered since the time of Pope Gregory the Great.”

     “Most recently, for me then, in Lindisfarne and Jarrow, more than a century ago, people still feared the Vikings.”

     “It is very much a scourge in these times. What do you know of it?”

     “After Lindisfarne, the rumors at Jarrow of the raid at the peaceful monastery of St. Cuthbert terrified laity and holy men alike. The secular powers of Engla land, ravaged the peace with fear and cluttered the land with weapons and snags.”

     “So, you saw fit to get on a boat set for Iona?”

     “That was my destination.”

     “Why, when you had found a place that was protecting itself against the raids, would you want to go to an island community of Iona as vulnerable as Lindisfarne?”

     “St. Paul at Jarrow follows the Benedictine Rule which puts so much emphasis on a pope’s earthly power and I find my longing for God is better met in the Spiritual presence — the thin places, maybe still found in Éire. That peace is what I find here.”

The abbot smiles knowingly and nods.

     I go on. “I knew nothing of this place but I wanted to see Iona because I was seeking a community like this, right on the edge of Creation — the source of all beauty.”

     “I have to tell you, in your lost century much sadness has come to Iona. Iona was attacked many times over and most of the community there moved inland to Kells. They still have their beautiful book, but the reliquary was stolen, and so much of their earthly wealth that had accumulated there was lost.”

     “Iona had earthly riches?”

     “Iona’s St. Colmcille, known as the dove of the church, seemed an easy target. There is no one to fight when the sainted abbot is a dove.”

     “How well I know. Saints named for doves aren’t known for their bloodied swords.”

     He goes on, “I’ve been listening to the tales, and keeping our own vulnerabilities in my asking prayers.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#85.1 Thursday, October 1, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time

The abbot of this monastery on the Great Skellig, Abbot Mactyre, and I are meeting together at long last.  I have so many questions and I am sure he’s heard enough of the rumors and stories, along with my own declaration that I am Jesus’s friend on earth from another time, so surely, he must have questions for me.

         “Brother Lugh feels called to return to the mainland; he has assumed I want to leave also.”

         He asks, “Don’t you?”

         “I don’t know anything of these Celtic lands except what I’d heard centuries ago from Father Columbanus who was from Éire traveling to Gaul where he established monasteries.”

         “I know of St. Columbanus. And you say you not only knew our Lord Christ Jesus personally, but now you tell me you knew a saint, centuries ago, as well?”

         “Indeed, I knew Jesus as a friend when he was teaching. As the Christ, I only know the sign of the spiritual life we all know. I am an earthly metaphor for the heavenly truth. And don’t we also all know many saints among us?”

         “How could we? Saints aren’t named until they are long dead.”

         “They may not have been named by the earthly polity of the Church, but living among us we know who they are.”

         “You mean you can recognize a saint even before he is dead and way before the miracles have been attributed?”

He sits straighter, and adjusts his chasuble touching his cross to assure himself it is dangling appropriately over his heart.

         “I simply meant we all know people who exhibit the qualities of saintliness. I’m not saying I have any authority to know who will be chosen by the Church and honored with the sanctification.”

         “Of course.”

         I say, “There are so many things I don’t know about this time and place — things that have changed since last I was aware, and traveling with a merchant to Iona. The world is so much bigger.”

         “How is that possible, if you also claim to know all things.”

         “I hardly make that claim. I only remember glimpses of times and places past. I find myself waking to life as a stranger always in the future world. Maybe at our births we all are strangers to time and place.”

My metaphor that every birth, in a way, is a time travel, draws a blank nod from Abbot Mactyre.

(Continues, Tuesday, October 6)

#84.14 Weds., September 30, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time

It’s risky crossing the roiling sea in a small boat with a bible when only a minor wetting of the vellum pages would cause major damage; but then, what is a monastery without a bible?  In this place the physical dangers are always in a raucous dialogue with spiritual accessibility. It is the great dare that defines the courage of each holy person committing to this life of faith. So why wouldn’t a bible be included in the risk?

Here in the church, Brother Lugh isn’t asking the abbot to affirm my contrary notions of Roman history, as I supposed was our purpose in coming to speak with the abbot.

The abbot uses this occasion to remind brother Lugh of his personal commitment to a life of prayer on this island apart from the woes and foibles of the laity on the mainland. Did Lugh’s father not send him here to keep him safe from the grief and the poverty of the secular world? Lugh told the abbot of his spiritual call to go back to the mainland where he finds his calling to care for people as though they are his family.  I know his hours of contemplation have brought him to this divergent need.

         He says, “I can just ride back with Lazarus when the boat comes for him.”

         The abbot asks, “Brother Lugh, answer me truthfully, have you been goaded into something contrary by this stranger among us?”

If they would only listen to me, they would hear me say that I hadn’t even been thinking of leaving. I really have no other place to go. And personally, I find this Celtic monastery a spiritual blessing. Perhaps Brother Lugh is listening to a truly, holy calling. But no one is listening to his plea either.  

         Lugh argues, “I’m sure Brother Lazarus would find Éire all to his liking if he went there.  It is as sweet as the blackberries, and even the most sorrowful music sets one’s feet to dancing.”

Before I can speak for myself and mention that I am not enticed by blackberries and dancing, the abbot intrudes.

         “Brother Luke, your father knew your propensity to sin when he sent you here. I am responsible to honor his last wish.”

         “I’m sure he would want me to serve the needy as God has called me to do.”

The abbot sends Brother Lugh back to his cell, alone. He takes me aside to tell me he thinks I am a bad influence on the young monk.

(Continues Thursday, October 1)

#84.13 Tuesday, September 29, 2026

Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time

Brother Lugh is sorting through my description of early Christianity, which sometimes hides the hateful notions of Roman domination right in the midst of the Gospel tradition.  He turns away, starring at the ground when I say that Roman political lies infiltrated the stories we have of the execution of Jesus. The lies made the Jews appear to be the murderers of Jesus, when it was actually a Roman imperialistic reach that tortured and killed many Jews, including Jesus, with crucifixion. Brother Lugh is sorting through this confusion that I have intruded into his own foundation of faith and threatened his own traditions and beliefs. It was his Christianity that brought him to this monastery faithfully following his own father’s wishes.

     Dear God, stay close to Brother Lugh as he weighs the conspicuous rift between the Roman tainted Christianity and the teachings of Jesus.

     He asks, “What about the Jesus message to love God above all else, and to love your neighbor? Don’t the Jesus love laws explain the difference between Christian and Jew?”

     “Brother Lugh, I know this isn’t what you’ve always believed, but the love commandments are in the Hebrew Bible too; Every morning and every evening an observant Jew repeats the law to love God above all else. It is the Shema Yisrael, the most basic prayer of Judaism. And the second most important law Jesus named was the ‘love of neighbor.’ That was from Leviticus 19:18.”

The abbot suggests we take a hard look at the holy book.

     “Do you mean there is a bible here on the Great Skellig?”

     “Of course, did you think we had no bible to guide us?”

     “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

I know that the Irish tenacity of the monks who followed Father Columbanus carried that Holy Bible deep into the alps to set the seedling of faith in his new communities. They were hauling a bible up and down those impossible mountains and cliffsides, so why would I think bringing a large, and precious book up these cliffs would be any different?

Brother Lugh goes immediately to the church.  I follow. And sure enough, the abbot does bring out a great copy of the work of St. Jerome and places it before us on the book pedestal in the front of the worship space, just under the stone hewn cross.

(Continues tomorrow)