This is Part III of a recently started series about on-going personal conversion. Part I started us off with thoughts from a vision of St. Catherine of Siena. Part II continued with words of a Franciscan friar giving an intelligence brief on our adversary. What follows is either miraculous or not depending on how you view things.
I say miraculous, in at least a minor way, because a) until today, I had never heard of this passage I'm sharing now, and b) the timing of the find is uncanny. How, pray tell, did I "find" it? It all started a few weeks ago when I picked up volume one of the Norton Anthology of English Literature for $4.00 at a flea market about an hour from my home. In mint condition, and weighing in at 2074 pages, folks who like math will delight in the fact that I paid a whopping .001344989 cents per page for it. It's chock full o' Catholic classics too.
What does this have to do with personal conversion? Boatloads. As Qoheleth, the inspired writer of my favorite Old Testament book says, "there is nothing new under the sun." That includes scandals involving priests. They will come, and they will go. None of us have seen the last of them, and persevere through them, we must. And despite some folks thinking that questioning priests, and holding them accountable, turns the faithful into members of the "brood of vipers and evil doers" section of the flock, I believe this story shows the opposite to be true.
So this morning, with no intention whatsoever of my own, I picked up this weighty tome I acquired so cheaply and randomly flipped it open to find myself on page 374. There, I happened upon the following tale that beckoned me with the heading Examination Before the Archbishop and started with the following words,
There was a monk should preach in York, the which had heard much slander and much evil language of the said creature.
Uh?, I thought. Do tell! Having never heard of Margery Kempe, I just plunged onward through this story as if I had entered a time machine and was whisked back to the days when England was still Catholic. Margery, it turns out, was a contemporary of St. Julian of Norwich and is honored in the Anglican Communion. She lived in Norwich, married at the age of 20, and had 14 children. She remained a member of the laiety, and yet was ahead of her time in recognizing her calling to the "royal priesthood" that St. Peter describes in his first letter to the faithful (1 Peter 2:9).
Be advised that this is a bit long, so go get a glass of your favorite beverage, or head to the loo, before you wade in. Ready? Enjoy...
from The Book of Margery Kempe
There was a monk should preach in York, the which had heard much slander and much evil language of the said creature. And, when he should preach, there was much multitude of people to hear him, and she (Margery) present with them. And so, when he was in his sermon, he rehearsed many matters so openly that the people conceived well it was for cause of her, wherefore her friends that loved her well were full sorry and heavy thereof, and she was much the more merry, for she had matter to prove [test] her patience and her charity wherethrough she trusted to please Our Lord Christ Jesus.
When the sermon was done, a doctor of divinity which loved her well with many others also came to her and said,
"Margery, how have ye done this day?"
"Sir," she said, "right well, blessed be God. I have cause to be right merry and glad in my soul that I may any thing suffer for his love, for he suffered much more for me."
Anon after came a man which loved her right well of good will with his wife and others more, and led her seven miles thence to the Archbishop of York, and brought her into a fair chamber, where came a good clerk, saying to the good man which had brought her thither, "Sir, why have ye and your wife brought this woman hither? She shall steal away from you, and then shall ye have a villainy of her."
The good man said, "I dare well say she will abide and be at her answer with good will."
On the next day she was brought into the Archbishop’s chapel, and there came many of the Archbishop’s meiny, despising her, calling her "loller" and "heretic," and swearing many an horrible oath that she should be burnt. And she, through the strength of Jesus, said again to them,
"Sirs, I dread me ye shall be burnt in hell without end unless than ye amend you of your oaths swearing, for ye keep not the commandments of God. I would not swear as ye do for all the good of this world."
Then they gedyn [went] away as they had been ashamed. She then, making her prayer in her mind, asked grace so to be demeaned that day as was most pleasant to God and profit to her own soul and good example to her evyn [fellow] Christians. Our Lord, answering her, said it should be right well.
At the last the said Archbishop came into the chapel with his clerks, and sharply he said to her,
"Why goest thou in white? Art thou a maiden?"
She, kneeling on her knees before him, said, "Nay, sir, I am no maiden; I am a wife."
He commanded his meiny to fetch a pair of fetters and said she should be fettered, for she was a false heretic. And then she said,
"I am no heretic, nor ye shall none prove me."
The Archbishop went away and let her stand alone. Then she made her prayers to our Lord God almighty for to help her and succour her against all her enemies, ghostly and bodily, a long while, and her flesh trembled and quaked wonderly that she was fain to put her hands under her clothes that it should not be aspied.
Since the Archbishop came again into the chapel with many worthy clerks, amongst which was the same doctor (of theology) which had examined her before and the monk that had preached against her a little time before in York. Some of the people asked whether she were a Christian woman or a Jew; Some said she was a good woman, and Some said nay.
Then the Archbishop took his see [ecclesiastical seat], and his clerks also, each of them in his degree, much people being present. And in the time while the people was gathering together and the Archbishop taken his see, the said creature stood all behind, making her prayers for help and succour against her enemies with high devotion so long that she melted all into tears. And at the last she cried loud therewith, that the Archbishop and his clerks and much people had great wonder of her, for they had not heard such crying before.
When her crying was passed, she came before the Archbishop and fell down on her knees, the Archbishop saying full boisterously unto her,
"Why weapest thou so, woman?"
She, answering, said, "Sir, ye shall will some day that ye had wept as sore as I."
"She knows her faith well enough. What shall I do with her?"
The clerks said, "We know well that she can the Articles of the Faith, but we will not suffer her to dwell among us, for the people have great faith in her dalliance, and peradventure she might pervert some of them."
Then the Archbishop said unto her, "I am evil informed of thee; I hear said thou art a right wicked woman."
And she said again, "Sir, so I hear said that ye are a wicked man. And,if ye be as wicked as men say, ye shall never come in heaven unless than ye amend you while ye be here."
Then said he full boisterously, "Why, thou, what say men of me?"
She answered, "Other men, sir, can tell you well enough."
Then said a great clerk with a furred hood, "Peace, thou speak of thyself and let him be."
Since said the Archbishop to her, "Lay thine hand on the book here before me and swear that thou shall go out of my diocese as soon as thou may."
"Nay, sir," she said, "I pray you, give me leave to go again into York to take my leave of my friends."
Then he gave her leave for one day or two. She thought it was too short a time, wherefore she said again,
"Sir, I may not go out of this diocese so hastily, for I must tarry and speak with good men ere I go, and I must, sir, with your leave, go to Birdlington and speak with my confessor, a good man, the which was the good prior’s (St. John of Birdlington) confessor that is now canonized."
Then said the Archbishop to her, "thou shall swear that thou shalt not teach nor challenge the people in my diocese."
"Nay, sir, I shall not swear," she said, "for I shall speak of God and undirnemyn [reprove] them that swear great oaths wheresoever I go unto the time that the Pope and Holy Church have ordained that no man shall be so hardy to speak of God, for God all mighty forbids not, sir, that we shall speak of him. And also the gospel makes mention that, when the woman had heard Our Lord preach, she came before him with a loud voice and said, `Blessed be the womb that thee bore and the tits that gave the suck.' Then our Lord said again to her, `Forsooth so are they blessed that hear the word of God and keep it.' And therefore, sir, me thinks that the gospel gives me leave to speak of God."
"A sir," said the clerks, "here wot[know] we well that she hath a devil within her, for she speaks of the gospel."
As such a great clerk brought forth a book and laid Saint Paul for his party against her that no woman should preach. She, answering thereto, said,
"I preach not, sir, I come in no pulpit. I use but communication and good words, and that will I do while I live."
Then said a doctor which had examined her beforetime, "Sir, she told me the worst tales of priests that ever I heard."
The bishop commanded her to tell that tale.
Stand-by for one of the best parables I have ever read. Everything prior, though a bit tedious, has set the stage for the following stunner. Read on me hearties!
|Peach Tree in Bloom|
Vincent Van Gogh
The priest, having great abomination of that loathly sight, conceiving great heaviness for doubt what it might mean, on the next day he wandered forth in his way all heavy and pensive, whom it fortuned to meet with a seemly aged man like to a palmer or a pilgrim, the which enquired of the priest the cause of his heaviness. The priest, rehearsing the matter before written, said he conceived great dread and heaviness when he beheld that loathly beast defoul and devour so fair flowers and blooms and afterward so horribly to devoid them before him at his tail end, and he not understanding what this might mean.
"Priest, thou thyself art the pear tree, somedeal flourishing and flowering through thy service saying and the sacraments ministering, though thou do undevoutly, for thou take full little heed how thou says thy matins and thy service, so it be blabbered to an end. Then go thou to thy mass without devotion, and for thy sin hast thou full little contrition. Thou receivest there the fruit of everlasting life, the sacrament of the altar, in full feeble disposition.
"Since all the day after thou misspendest thy time, thou give thee to buying and selling, chopping and changing [bargaining and exchanging], as it were a man of the world. Thou sittest at the ale, giving the to glotony and excess, to lust of thy body, through lechery and uncleanness. Thou breakest the commandments of God through swearing, lying, detraction, and backbiting, and such other sins using. Thus by thy misgovernance, like onto the loathly bear, thou devourest and destroyest the flowers and blooms of virtuous living to thine endless damnation and many man’s hindering less than thou have grace of repentance and amending."'
Then the Archbishop liked well the tale and commended it, saying it was a good tale. And the clerk which had examined her beforetime in the absence of the Archbishop, said,
"Sir, this tale smites me to the heart."
The foresaid creature said to the clerk, "Ah, worshipful doctor, sir, in place where my dwelling is most, is a worthy clerk, a good preacher, which boldly speaks against the misgovernance of the people and will flatter no man. He says many times in the pulpit, `If any man be evil pleased with my preaching, note him well, for he is guilty.'
And right so, sir," said she to the clerk, "fare ye by me, God forgive it you."
The clerk wist [knew] not well what he might say to her. Afterward the same clerk came to her and prayed her of forgiveness that he had so been against her. Also he prayed her specially to pray for him. And than anon after the Archbishop said,
As swithe [immediately] there started up many young men, and every man said of them, "My Lord, I will go with her."
The Archbishop answered, "Ye be too young; I will not have you."
Then a good sad [of sober continence] man of the Archbishop’s meiny asked his Lord what he would give him and he should lead her. The Archbishop proferred him five shillings and the man asked a noble. The Archbishop, answering, said,
"I will not waryn [spend] so much on her body."
"Yes, good sir," said the said creature, "our Lord shall reward you right well again."
Then the Archbishop said to the man, "See, here is five shillings, and lead her fast out of this country."
She, kneeling down on her knees, asked his blessing. He, praying her to pray for him, blessed her and let her go.
Than she, going again to York, was received of much people and of full worthy clerks, which enjoyed in our Lord that had given her not lettred wit and wisdom to answer so many learned men without villainy or blame, thanking be to God.
And that's all for today, dear reader. For more on Margery Kempe, see this new volume added to the YIMCatholic Bookshelf: The Cell of Self-Knowledge.