#51.8, Weds., Dec. 20, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Luxeuil

“I don’t know if it was intended to be punishment. My teacher assigned me a new cell with no mate.”

After Gabe told me of his mystical experience, we ride the rest of the way to Luxeuil in a kind of warm and comfortable silence. Thank you, God. It’s a long way with a slow mule to Luxeuil, but long is fine. Arriving at the stable the four horses are here: the white horses of Greg and Gaillard and probably these other two horses in the visitor’s stalls are the one ridden by the Father and the other, the farmer’s horse.

         It’s only been one night since we were together at the farm near Besançon making this plan to return here, but our greetings are grateful. We share with the horsemen our frightful moment, when we were stopped by the soldiers near the pass. 

         They’d seen us stopped there by the guards, but that was the only path to the other side of the mountains that the local farmer knew, so they had to take that chance and ride through ahead of us at that particular place. 

         I said, “We told the guards that undoubtedly the riders who left those hurried tracks along the river must have been the robbers we feared, who wanted to take our mule.  And apparently guards didn’t want to tangle with highway robbers, so they just took their posts and didn’t try to follow your tracks.

Then I asked that question we’d all wondered about. “Was the Father an able horsemen?”

         “Quite capable, even after decades as an impoverished churchman, he seemed very much at home galloping across the fields for his great adventure.” answered Gaillard.

         And here it is, the season of the Christ Mass in the first swirls of winter winds when it takes only a single candle to brighten a room with warm light and set the earth in waiting for the sacred birth of the rescuer. 

         When the Father found himself safely home here, he went immediately to his library where is spending these many hours pouring through the gospels for the new illumination his adventure sheds onto the old stories of Mary and Joseph. It seems the more one knows the familiar stories of gospel, the more often there are new messages to be found buried deeply in the familiar simplicity — always little mysteries to be revealed.

(Continues tomorrow)

#51.7, Tues., Dec. 19, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. the old road from Besançon to Luxeuil

         Gabe is telling he was called before his teacher because another novice accused him of “heresy.”

         “I told my teacher that when I first went to Luxeuil there were so many different ways people speak of God it set me to questioning what I believed. So, I went into a field with ripening grain to be alone for prayer and I asked God to excuse me from prayers for just one day, so I could pretend there was no God, and thus learn something I needed to know. What I needed to know was “is God?” I remembered it is a sin to test God, so I confessed to God that, indeed, I was testing, but I just really had to know.

It felt like a deep hurt to be without God that day. In fact, the whole world seemed pretend and not real. It was like I wandered into a painting. All the while I was denying and ignoring a brightness walking beside me, so I told God to leave me alone so I could figure this out on my own. But the brightness was still there. I didn’t want to look at it and see what it was. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there. This wasn’t like Moses humbly not looking. I just wanted to do this on my own. I walked deep into a grain field where no one would see me so if there was the God-light following me it could be hidden. Again I said to the light I had to do this on my own. Then, in my secret, silent not-a-prayer I asked for a sign. In silent thought I made the deal with some kind of nothing that if God is, let the grain suddenly fall from the grain head I was gazing on. I expected something natural could actually happen that I could take as a sign: maybe a wind would loosen the grain, or it would just fall from ripeness. For me, that would be a sign that God was allowing it to happen, but it also would allow for nature, yet I would believe it to be a sign. But with no wind at all the seed heads in my sight turned from dull into beautiful colors, each seed a different hue and no wind. An array of brilliant seeds rose in the air, dancing in circles and swirls, high above me, then landing all around my feet.”

“Did your teacher punish you when you told this?”

(Continues tomorrow)

#51.6, Thurs., Dec. 14, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. the old road from Besançon to Luxeuil

         It’s true. I did have a silent prayer in my thoughts just now, it is gratitude. “So, Gabe, do you miss hearing all the prayers spoken aloud as they do at Luxeuil?”

         “No Papa. At Luxeuil I keep my prayers silent too. I miss talking with you and Momma and everyone at home where we can listen to God, invisible, and no one thinks we are pretending to be a saint or a bishop or a prophet.”

         “So you worry you will be mistaken for a saint if you pray aloud?”
 

      “Novices live two to a cell, and I told you, how I worried with my cell-mate over the meaning of the ‘fear of God’. You assured me God is not ferocious and when I want to know about God, I should just ask God.  God glints her beauty differently in different situations, making Godself known in a variety of ways and maybe comes to each person differently. So, I learned, too late, to keep peace with my cell-mate, that people meet God always only knowing a small facet which may be different from one person to the next. He called me disrespectful of God and reported me to our teacher. My teacher, Father Eustasius, called me before him and asked if I was spreading heresy. I touched the sign of the cross and said, ‘Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I never speak a heresy.’ He asked me if it was true that I heard God speaking, and then I was telling others what I thought God was saying. I said, I surely hadn’t meant to be speaking for God. I was just telling my cell-mate that I had a bright moment, an ‘ah-ha’ when God answered my prayer of doubt.”

         “What did your teacher say?”

         “He said not to talk to that fellow about this anymore. And then he asked me what language does God speak?”

         “What did you say?”

         “I said I don’t hear God speaking with words, in any way that I could even call language. Then he asked me how I know it is God who is speaking. And I wanted to turn the question back to him and ask how he knows God’s voice. But that seemed personal and disrespectful of his position. So, I told him the exact thing that I told my cell-mate, that thing that riled the fellow who said I spoke heresy.”

(Continues, Tuesday, December 19)

#51.5, Weds., Dec. 13, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. the old road from Besançon to Luxeuil

         The soldiers searching our wagon found the only things that would connect us with the escape of the Father — the extra monk’s robe Greg wore, and Ana’s dress, which was worn by Gaillard when he and Greg were investigating the area to make the plan.

         I offered the dress to the young soldier who seemed interested in it. His pleasure in the gift turned to embarrassment, then disgust when the other soldiers mocked it. He threw it down, and trampled it into the river mud before throwing it back into the wagon. Now we actually will be returning a “rag” to Ana so the little lie becomes truth.

         This delay has served its purpose, as we can see the horses crossing through the pass ahead of us are no longer in sight.

         “Is your search for the escaped prisoner going to take you through that pass up ahead?” I ask the officer in charge, “Because, we’ve heard there may be highwaymen lurking in that place and perhaps if you are with us, we will feel safer. As you can see, we have no weapons or treasure but we’ve heard robbers will even take a mule and wagon from monks.”

         “Don’t you suppose God will take care of his own?”

         Gabe adds, “But it’s a worry. We’ve heard stories.”

         “Sure. Our orders are to guard that pass, so I guess we are available to accompany you there.”

         Gabe holds the mule at a very slow pace which makes the soldiers anxious, and the slower we go, the more they seem to find this little good deed they are doing for us annoying.  Now, as we finally reach the pass, the muddy hoof prints of the four horses that just crossed the river here seem conspicuous. Gabe points them out to the soldiers who were also noticing these fresh, deep and hurried hoof prints in the mud. Gabe mentions, “Surely the robbers were just here waiting for us, and when they saw we had guards they must have fled in a flurry.  So, we are most grateful to you for our safe passage.”

         And I added a benediction of blessing.

         Then Gabe and I start northward on the road.

         Gabe interrupts my silence, “Papa you can say your prayers out loud, I know you are saying prayers.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#51.4, Tues., Dec. 12, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. on the road from Besançon to Luxeuil

Soldiers stop Gabe and I on the road to Luxeuil searching for the Father. We appear suspicious as monks from Luxeuil and driving a wagon. Gratefully, the Father escaped on horseback with guards, and is on a less traveled road north. But within sight ahead of us is the pass by the river between the hills. In the pass the roads converge to navigate through steep terrain.  The four horsemen will have to come onto this road ahead of us because all paths must use the same pass where the river cuts through. 

         We are in the wagon facing north, while the guards who stopped us are in front of us, facing south. And now in the distance we see the horses and men we are shielding. They can get through the pass unseen if we can keep the soldier’s attention here. 

         I asked the soldiers what they are looking for.

         “A prisoner escaped from the fortress of Besançon.” The officer is suspicious of us.  “In fact you could be hiding him under the tenting covering this wagon.” We are ordered to get down from the wagon seat and stand at sword point while they search through the wagon. We can look northward up this road and see the horses still moving through the river pass just now. It is important the soldiers don’t turn around and look to the north. 

         The two guarding us won’t see behind them, and the other three are pilfering through the contents of the wagon, our fleeces, a bag of oats we will share with the mule, Greg’s extra monk’s robe, and…

         “A-ha!” says one of the young soldiers, “It’s a women’s dress!’”

         “Is that what you are searching for?” Gabe asks the guard.

         “It’s a curious thing to have with you, wouldn’t you say?” asks the soldier. Now another, who is, as Gaillard had described to us earlier, a ‘tender youth’ [#49.13] recognizes the dress.

         “I’ve seen this azure gown before. So what have you done with the lovely who wore it?

         “We stopped at a farm near Besançon for a night. The warped wheel had been rubbing the wagon side at the wheel pin,” Gabe tells them, “So the farmer gave that to us as a rag along with some lard for grease. We used all of the lard on the wheel then we didn’t need the rag, so if you want the blue cloth maybe it could still be good enough to wear as a dress.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#51.3, Thurs., Dec. 7, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. a farm house near Besançon

Greg and I are the last of our group to arrive back at the safe farm house. There is a sense of victory among us, having freed the prisoners with no bloodshed and also having captured an extra sword, then contaminating a lovely, dark woods by affirming rumors of demons. Well, maybe the demon myth was just a convenient opportunity. Whatever, knowing of the rumor gives us another veil of stealth as we will soon return Father Columbanus to his community.

         The father seems no worse for wear, in fact, he seems invigorated by the success of the project. He thanks God for the miracle of Paul and Silas.

         We are sure that the Besançon soldiers will make a plan very soon to guard the road to Luxeuil. And we’ve already forfeited speed and surprise. If we follow the one old Roman road it will take us right passed the fortress and on in the most predictable way using the slow and steady mule wagon.

         “So, Gaillard,” I ask, “tell us the plan to get the Father, two soldiers with swords, and a monk and a mule and me all passed an army of soldiers.”

         “Make that, three soldiers with swords,” offers the farmer, taking the extra sword in hand. “And we can move faster on horseback along an alternate pathway I know of.”

         Gaillard explains, “The Father would probably prefer a wagon ride.”

         But Father Columbanus reminds us not to let his silvered tonsure and liturgical status keep him from the horses.

         “You ride, your holiness?”

         “Of course, did you suppose an abbot has no human legs under his vestment? I would love a good excuse to take a gallop through the hills once again.”

         The farmer readies his two horses as Gaillard and Greg prepare their own mounts.  So, the plan is that the Father will ride a horse, guarded by three swordsmen, and they will take an alternative path to the road to avoid the likelihood of meeting soldiers guarding the main road.  Greg and I will take our time on the well-known Roman road with the mule and the wagon and at best, we can serve the escape as a decoy. A wagon with monks going north toward Luxeuil might be just how the guards are expecting to find the escaped prisoner.

         And so it is that our mule wagon hasn’t come far passed the fortress when we are stopped by the soldiers from Besançon.

(Continues, Tuesday, December 12)


#51.2, Weds., Dec. 6, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         Now, as the light-shed off the guard’s torch shadows the walls around us, we are hiding with silence and stillness as our only stealth. A small contingency of soldiers following that single torch pass by us.  Apparently, they aren’t even aware we are here, so now we are safely behind them. As we continue toward the end of the tunnel, we can hear their plan to leave one guard at the rock pile while the others search the open field for the Father. They discuss a probability that he has fled to the alehouse. At least we are hearing them considering that as the best place to search, because the other possibility is the wood that borders the pasture and they share rumors of dread that the dark forests are where demons dwell.

         Apparently, the demons are on our side now, as we learn that if we can get by only the one guard left at the rocks of the tunnel opening, the woods will be a safe place for us.

         We wait here by the steps to go up to the opening of the tunnel, allowing time for the soldiers to cross the pasture to the alehouse and for this one guard left here to find himself some comfortable distraction.  Greg goes out first with his sword drawn. I follow, and here he has come up behind the soldier and as I emerge, I see he has his sword pointed into the back of this guard and is demanding the guard hand me his sword. I hesitate.

         Greg instructs, “Pretend it is a mere hunting knife, Papa, and take it with you into the woods where that horde of demons is waiting for us.”

         The lone soldier is terrified, and Greg orders him to go on to the alehouse as fast as he can run and to tell no one he has seen any demons out here.

         Without a weighty sword a soldier can run away fast.

         “See Papa, no blood was shed.”

         Should I lecture my son just now that a threatening sword and tales of demons are also forms of violence?

         Dear God, I probably must leave this lesson in pacifism for another time. Surely you know that a parent’s way of peace is a numb example for a soldier who has just captured a second sword. You must be disappointed. Forgive me. Amen.

(Continues tomorrow)


#51.1, Tues., Dec. 5, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         The plan to free Father Columbanus from the old lion’s cage of Besançon is nearly accomplished. The abbot of Luxeuil and the five prisoners who suffered in chains are all freed and a bishop is presently sorting out the details of absolution for the five rescued, regardless of God’s relentless grace and forgiveness.

         So far, no blood was shed.

         The bishop’s prayer goes on and on.  Anyone whose eyes aren’t on the eternal just now might catch a glimpse of soldier Greg and me slipping through the hidden door under the rug. Greg dons the monk’s robe again as we go into the tunnel. No one seems to be following us. But when we reach the end of this section under the cage, preparing to go into the other tunnel that leads out we can hear the commotion of the gathering soldiers. They are mounting horses to ride out across the fields. Undoubtedly, they will be guarding the road northward to Luxeuil. Hopefully, Gabe and Gaillard have already taken the Father to the safe farmhouse where we will meet together before the trek back to the monastery.

         So now, Greg and I enter into the tunnel leading out to the pasture, choosing not to light a torch so that the darkness will not only blind us it will also hide us. If soldiers follow, they will have torches. That light will go before us also, and if we find ourselves sharing their light, then we can run from them. For now, we move slowly feeling our way along the wall.

         It turns out, guards coming through this tunnel with torches are noisy, talking, shouting, tromping with heavy footfalls.  Well before we see the glow of their torches, we know they are behind us. In monk’s wools we can become shadows in this darkness.

         I stretch my hand along the wall, reaching for that break we know is here, that fork toward an old unfinished tunnel. 

         Greg is versed in all the soldier’s tricks of eluding a chase. He gestures to me to stand motionless and silent in the shadow on one side in the opening of the wall, and he hides with his sword hidden in the robes by standing motionless on the other side of the opening. If one of us is noticed, we will surprise them from both sides, and that will allow Greg’s to be the first sword drawn.

         May there be no swords drawn.

(Continues tomorrow)


#50.14, Thurs., Nov. 30, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         We are, with the help of God, setting the prisoners of Besançon free. The Father and Gabe have already escaped into the tunnel and no one was alerted to that escape to chase after them. Surely they are safe by now.

         The prison guard and the five prisoners freed from the chains in the dungeon are here inside the church. Greg, as the soldier he is, continues guarding the church door. The bishop watched us all pour through the doors of the basilica. He assumes I am the monk he was just speaking with, though I have no idea what we were talking about, and Greg who was that monk now is the extra soldier who seems to confuse the Bishop. Where did he come from, and whose side is he on?

         The prison guard seems recovered from his strange warp of empathy and returns to his post to guard the Father. Greg watches him to see if he notices that the Father also escaped and may try to rally a search.

         Inside this sanctuary the bishop stands in judgment of these five frail and starving prisoners. In his questions for me are those timeless concerns about the healed blind man that baffled Jesus’ disciples and the authorities in John Chapter 9. Was this suffering caused by his own sin or was the cause the sins of his forefathers? 

         It’s the age-old question about outcasts. Surely those of us with privilege must be blessed because of our earned goodnesses. So those who aren’t privileged, caught in poverty, subjugation, bias and abuse by us, the privileged, must be deserving of their misfortune. So what was the sin?

         “Confess your sins.” The bishop asks them. “That I may plead for your absolution.”

          Dear God, Let us who have eyes but can’t see beyond our own good fortune know your love also. Let us notice that your judgment of the lame, the blind, the poor, the demoniac, the outcast, is really the same forgiving love you have for me and the bishop, the guards and the soldiers.  Let even those of us who are privileged be free of the chains we forge for the ‘other.’ Forgive us our sins as we forgive…

         Greg comes inside and whispers to me we need to leave quickly now, the guard has summonsed soldiers.  Greg and I slip away, down into the tunnels while all these others in the church have eyes closed in prayer.

(Continues Tuesday, Dec. 5, 2023)

#50.13, Weds., Nov. 29, 2023

Historical Setting, 610 C.E. Besançon Fortress

         In the midst of this escape, two of the freed prisoners do run to the ladder and start the climb, as the guard sees them he draws his sword shouting “Stop in the name of the King!”

         The third prisoner is unable to walk, so surely he can’t run.  He is scooting himself across the earth toward the ladder and I realize these other two who are still here are blind. I take one on my back, and the other is grasping onto the arm of my robe and following. 

         The guard has a drawn sword and is shouting and slashing at the air as he hurries toward the lame man who has now reached the low rung of the ladder to the main level, but he clearly can’t climb.  I shout to the guard, “Stop! In the name of God! Help that fellow up the ladder!”

         The guard seems confused by whose name we are stopping in.

He sees me, a monk with a helpless man on my back, and another at my arm, and he sees that third prisoner unable to climb the ladder. What he doesn’t see behind him, descending the cell’s ladder, is the Brother Ezra–Gabe and the Father. All this time the Father is calling out blessings for the prisoners, calling on God to forgive them and set them free pending their pleas of repentance.

         Immediately Gabe and the Father are gone into the tunnel.

         The guard slides his sword into the sheath, and picks up the man at the bottom of the ladder, and lays him across his shoulders like a cloak. Then he goes up the ladder ahead of me still bringing the two who are blind.

         On the main level there is a ruckus. The two prisoners who escaped ahead of these have gone to the church and are beating on the locked doors with their prison chains and shouting. Some of the young soldiers practicing nearby are coming with wooden swords, and now the door of the church opens. Here is Greg, standing boldly, as a fully armed soldier flashing an actual sword, threatening these young soldiers. He guards the two prisoners as they enter the church then goes in behind them and the door is locked again. The soldiers go back to their pretend wars, and the prison guard and I arrive at the doors to the church with these other three freed prisoners still in our care.

         The guard has the key to the church doors.

(Continues tomorrow)