When one is young it is easy to regard Monday as the first stepping stone to the next exciting weekend. However, the older one gets the easier it is to accept that each day has its own excitement, and that it is better to enjoy the journey than dash to the destination. This realisation has meant that each day can have its own value and it is in this spirit that the wife and I travel to our holiday destination. As a consequence we usually take a couple of overnight farm stops on the way.
Last August I told you about a visit to St David’s Cathedral in West Wales, and this month I can report on an equally inspirational visit to Lindisfarne Priory in Northumberland with a stop-over in Durham. We had not previously been to Durham despite knowing of its University and Cathedral, and that the cricketers Steve Harmison and Paul Collingwood were local celebrities.
We stayed overnight at a posh hotel and started the day by eating a hearty English breakfast with black pudding. The short drive into Durham soon saw us standing by the river gazing up at the twelfth century cathedral, castle and university buildings. We then wound our way through the narrow streets, past bistros, tavernas, ristorantes, tapas bars and chip shops, all the way up the hill to the cathedral. Entry was free and, as it was a hot day, the building’s cool atmosphere brought welcome relief.
In silent contemplation we wandered around, eventually finding ourselves at a table at the base of the south tower. The tower was open to the public on payment of a fee, however, the holiday spirit had seized us and we decided to pay up. We had however, not reckoned with the resident health and safety guru who grilled us as to the dangers of the ascent. The interrogator was ‘worried’ that my wife’s shoes were “not appropriate,” but she gave him one of her famous withering looks and his concerns vanished in a resigned shrug.
Some readers may consider the climb excellent value at £6, as this represents a mere 1.71 pence for each of the three hundred and fifty two steps winding to the top. They might also consider it a bargain, in that the fee is for the climb only the descent being free. My excitement at reaching the top with its staggering views of the city, the prison and the river was tempered only by knowing that there were three hundred and fifty two steps down again.
Northumberland is situated in the top right hand corner of England and Berwick on Tweed is its most northerly town. It has changed hands many times between the English and Scots and still retains its stone walls. It has the character of a working town and whilst wandering its grey streets it was easy to imagine it surrounded by besieging kilted pipers. Northumberland is well known for its two predominant weather features: These being the wet squalls driving in from the west whilst simultaneously; the cold sea mists roll in from the east. During out stay the weather was generally clear however, the twenty five off-shore islands in clear line of sight from the battlements of Bamburg Castle had, like the mythical Scottish Isle Brigadoon, disappeared into the sea mist.
I knew that Lindisfarne Priory had been a centre of early Christian learning since the year 635, but hadn’t realised how important the work of St Aidan (an Irish Monk from Iona) had been in setting the scene for much of what is now British History. He had been a teacher to Oswald an Anglo Saxon who later became the King of Northumbria.
Before Oswald became king, the Ionian community had sent an austere monk by the name of Corman to the Northumbrian people, but he didn’t stay long after calling them stupid and pig headed. On his return to Iona however, Aidan told Corman that he might have, “been too severe and not gentle enough,” at which point Corman told him to; ‘Go and try to do the job yourself.” So Aidan set off with twelve brothers to see the king at Bamburgh. On arrival he was delighted to find his old pupil Oswald who told him he could build a monastery wherever he wanted. He chose the island of Lindisfarne.
During the next eight hundred years Kings came and went, as did the warring Scots, Vikings, Mercians, Brigands and other thieving parties. However, it was Henry the Eighth who finally did for Lindisfarne when he closed every monastery with an income of less than £200. I suppose, he did to the monasteries in 1537 what Lord Beeching did to the railways in 1964.
Talking about Lindisfarne and the famous Lindisfarne gospel however, reminds me of the story of the novice monk who was terribly concerned that he was being asked to copy from copies and not from the original. He worried that this method might transmit serious error from copy to copy. One word in particular troubled him, and he raised his concerns with the kindly old Abbot who reassured him but non-the-less promised to consult the original.
After an hour the Abbot reappeared from the crypt with a woeful expression and tears in his eyes. In a trembling voice he murmured, “You are right to be concerned my son. The word is really cele-brate, not celi-bate.”
View from the Pew 