Tomorrow will be the feast of St. Aidan of Lindisfarne, an Irish saint who spread the Gospel among the Northumbrian Angles in the 600s. He founded what would become the diocese of Durham. I love him, so I decided to create some heroic verse for him:
By Iona’s emerald shore,
God mastered sin, that I should soar -
Not to the heights of empty wealth,
but to humility: true health.
From the sapphire sea I was sent,
that my arrogance might be spent
on loving the Lord God, the poor,
and all that dwell on strand and moor.
Blessed Abbey, holy island;
Portal to the true Highland:
Lindisfarne, wall and rocky beach
Remain beyond vile Satan’s reach.
Across the strait are roving men,
spilling kin blood in marsh and fen;
under the Cross of Christ I stand,
leaving not a man to Hell’s band.
I praise the Lord, who gave us fire
to light the swan-road; not in ire,
but that we truly navigate,
catching souls by charity’s bait.
The golden beam of noon-day sun
gives strength to me, so I may run
the race to beat the old Liar
to my glory: faith’s burning pyre!
What is the power of a horse,
when almighty God is the force
which rules and leads me ever on
to spread the Gospel ’till the dawn?
Calm rays of the evening-tide,
you light my way while I abide
in Him who guides my chosen course
to hold the Faith without remorse.
To High King alike, and to child
I preach, that I might be reviled
by the spirit of this shallow world
and pride’s power be unfurled.
No finery accompanies
My monks on our longest journies;
But a small heart, meek and mild,
on which Jesus Christ has smiled.
Oswald joined me, that we might mend
the hearts of souls (who would not bend
their knees to Christ, our holy Lord)
with Grace: the sinner’s richest hoard.
Glory be to the Trinity
(One God in essence, ever free)
for loving us until the end;
ever Lord, our glorious Friend.
St. Aidan, pray for us!
