St Hilda of Whitby Reconsidered

by Digitalnun on November 19, 2012

Medievalists may have turned to this post expecting a close analysis of Bede’s text and hoping for some amazing new insights into the person of St Hilda (as it happens, yes, I do think she was formerly married, did try to join a monastery in Gaul, etc, etc, but I have no new material to offer); others may be hoping for some polemical contrasts between ‘the Celtic Church’ and ‘the Roman Church’ (sorry, no, I don’t think Hilda was an Anglican avant la lettre, that is seriously to misunderstand how the Church was perceived by her contemporaries); some may even be looking for some feisty feminism, which would make Hilda not merely abbess of Whitby but the most important person of her time (St Wilfrid would have disputed that, along with several kings). No, as I was thinking about St Hilda this morning I was struck once again by her loneliness, the loneliness of someone whose position set her apart from others to do what no one else could.

We have a tendency to see historical figures in a vaccuum. They appear for a brief moment, like the sparrow flitting through the mead hall, and we see only what we deem to be of importance, the little bit of their lives that history has deigned to record as significant. So with Hilda. We know that she was abbess of a great double-monastery, renowned for its learning and cultural eminence, but we probably think more of Caedmon, plucked from the cowshed to be a sweet singer of songs, than we do of the daily round of administration that headship of so large an undertaking must have involved. Hilda worrying about cheeses for the table, new footwear for the brethren at Easter, or disputes between community members that she alone could resolve: these we do not think about so much. Bede allows us to glimpse Hilda listening intently to the arguments about how the date of Easter should be calculated and finally laying aside her own opinion in favour of that advanced by Wilfrid. Do you think everyone in her community agreed all at once? Do you think there were no mutterings, no covert acts of minor rebellion, futile acts of petty vengeance? If you do, you have both a more sanguine view of human nature and slightly less experience of the cloister than I do!

I think Hilda’s loneliness probably increased rather than diminished after the Synod of Whitby. Once the painful decision had been taken, it had to be worked out in the detail of liturgical observance; and the detail of liturgical observance absorbs a huge amount of the time and energy of any community. Add to that the changes in routine, the old monks and nuns finding the changes difficult to remember and getting muddled, the younger ones wanting to press on faster than the rest, and you have a piquant situation.

What sustained Hilda? I don’t know, but I think it must have been love of truth, which ultimately is Truth himself. For his sake she was prepared to abandon everything, the comfortable traditions of her past, the security of the familiar. She was indeed a nun who lived up to her vocation; an abbess worthy of the name. May she pray for us all.

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8 comments

Really interesting read – and very pertinent, as we talked about St Hilda at church this Sunday. Thank you for writing.

by Emma on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 8:54 am. #

Oh, how I like this post, because I sense similarities between you and Hilda… Thank you for bringing her day to day life alive to us. Hilda is a new friend in heaven. I was not aware of her presence until recently. So many saints to discover and grow to love!

by claire bangasser on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 9:26 am. #

THank you for this insight into St Hilda. Wished I had something like to draw on in the last 4 years!!! The trouble with hearing about saints on a patronal is that you can hardly recognise the person. THis has given me new heart on St Hilda.

by cyberoblate on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 1:16 pm. #

Life as a leader is often isolating and it much have been so much harder for a woman, who was ‘different’ among other leaders simply because of her sex and her perception. I will pray for you and Quietnun and the leadership you give.

by Judith-Anne MacKenzie on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 2:15 pm. #

I’ve always had a fondness for St Hilda, I think because of the fact that she could lay aside her own opinion, even, amd perhaps especially, because she was such a respected woman.

And I have no such peachy views of peace perfect peace following such a difficult decision – but then, I work for a Convent! ;-)

by Danielle on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 2:58 pm. #

Amen.

by Margaret Yo on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 7:20 pm. #

I learnt about St Hilda this last year, when she was mentioned in a BBC documentary series about women in religion. It was quite interesting, but too broad for any depth, covering everything from the mother earth godess of the Neolithic through to the importance of Muhammad’s wife in the writing of the Koran, with a bit about Mary, speculation about women priests and disciples in the early church, and of course St Hilda.

I tho
ught she was a very inspiring figure. Amazing that a historical figure can still be aspirational and relevant hundreds of years after her time.

by Mikeala on Monday, 19 November, 2012 at 10:30 pm. #

Having just discovered your blog, I am so enjoying reading your posts. My doctoral thesis was on (late) medieval convents in Yorkshire, and it is such a pleasure to discover that English Benedictine nuns are still on fine form! (My husband always teases me that my knowledge of Catholicism is 500 years out of date, though I am trying to remedy that.)

Incidentally, by the late medieval period I’m not aware of any nuns of similar stature to Hilda. I wonder why that is, and whether her deferring to Wilfrid played any part in (what I perceive to be) the decline of women’s position in society in subsequent centuries.

by Kate on Wednesday, 28 November, 2012 at 1:50 pm. #


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