A few thoughts about Hildegard of Bingen

I shall caution my readers that this is not one of my well planned, 'take six hours to consider, then write as if it were impromptu', entries. I noticed my 'blogging' was getting a bit rusty, and thought an entry might help to keep me in shape. :)

One of the collections on my library shelves which I greatly value is "The Wisdom Of..." series. These pocket sized books, which contain selections from great saints of every era, are perfect to tuck into my bag, and today, when I was making the brief 'retreat day' I try to do weekly, I happened to select Hildegard of Bingen. I had not even realised that today was her feast day until I attended the midday Eucharist and heard it mentioned.

Hildegard was a fascinating, versatile (and, I understand, quite volatile) mystic of the 11th century. (I must write an essay on her for the site one of these days... I suppose that, with all the work I just completed for my finals, I'm having a period of not wanting to do all the research for the footnotes as yet.) I'm not positive that Hildegard would meet all requirements for 'heroic sanctity,' but, as the brief article to which I've linked in the title will show for those unfamiliar with her, she certainly was not any decorative medieval flower. (As an aside - if you are interested in herbal medicine and the like, as I am, Hildegard's book on the subject is not likely to be helpful. It describes only various animals and plants and their humours... among them the gryphon and unicorn. This was not an era of stressing empirical evidence, and was indeed one where zoology was studied in libraries, but I've no doubt Hildegard would have defended her qualifications as physician much as she did her visions.)

Today, coincidentally, is also the feast of the Stigmata of Saint Francis. It struck me, since I periodically receive correspondence related to my Internet site in relation to mysticism, that many people were, and are, fascinated by unusual phenomena - indeed, the occasional "how do I become a mystic?" queries I receive seem to be aimed at a desire for visions, 'reading souls,' and so forth. Well, I cannot tell anyone how to become a mystic - nor could anyone. It is not a practised art - it is a vocation, and those who have it are hand picked, as it were. We are a Church - yes, even those of us who do not experience the odd gifts - and each of us are called, and serve, in our own fashion. Most of those, such as Teresa of Avila to mention one most famous, who did experience 'consolations' such as visions found them to be more distracting than otherwise, and they always were cautious about seeming revelations. My old friend Julian of Norwich, who indeed recalls a singular vision of Christ (there is no mention of such experiences recurring), did not relate this as if she had a video of the crucifixion to share, but purely to underline spiritual truths which not only the experience but years of dedication to prayer had revealed.

As I've said elsewhere, most who are dedicated to a life of prayer live in what I term 'the banality of orthopraxy.' Most would not have, and certainly would not desire, visions, levitation and the like. (I fortunately have experienced none of these things, and am quite certain that, were most of us to do so, we'd behave like half wits.) Hildegard, Francis, Catherine of Siena, and others, who had unusual experiences, probably would be ruined today - well, no, that wouldn't happen, for they all were too feisty, but let us just note that they'd probably be considered nut cases, and those less committed would end up with psychiatrists who would concentrate on making them doubt their own integrity. (None of the three I've mentioned would have cared a fig about what anyone else thought of them, thank heavens.)

Francis' stigmata, Caterina's being wed to Christ with a ring made from the foreskin removed in his circumcision, Hildegard's visions which today are thought to have come from migraines - all of these indeed may be manifestations of what was within them, rather than divinely bestowed. To choose one example, if Hildegard's visions (which she stormed heaven to publish) were from a physical condition, this would not matter in the least. What does matter is the divine grace and response - to put it crudely, what the result of religious devotion becomes. "By their fruits you shall know them."

Most devout Christians, myself included, have never witnessed miracles (for all that most of us, I would say, indeed have times when, with hindsight, we can see special periods of divine providence. The Master usually says "repent" in some fashion during these!) The great mystics often never experienced odd phenomena - they spent far more time with the liturgical prayer, or scrubbing floors, or engaging in counsel (the anchorhold was second only to the tavern in attracting the long-winded), or tilling soil than in exalted states.

Switching gears, only because this thought suddenly came to me, within the past month or so I had a problem (which I'll not detail here, but which was very nerve racking and involved financial strain), and several people whom I am privileged to know were of assistance to me in various ways. Not all of them are exactly devout - those who are know the 'banality of orthopraxy' as well as do I, and all but one are more generally concerned with rolling up their sleeves for the poor and outcast than with such things as mysticism. Yet I was reminded very much, through the love they showed, of Christ as being near. (Yes, indeed, I need that reminder often!)

Since my own life is centred on prayer, it does irritate me when prayer, rather than service, is treated as 'selfish' or somehow denying a call to 'social justice' (... though Lord knows I've been known to have commitments to the latter.) For those of us whose lives are focussed on prayer, charity is involved in embracing the entire church in reciting its liturgies - but love of neighbour is the natural outgrowth of dedication to praise. More often, active life in some form is more prevalent in a Christian life. Yet I am convinced that the test of whether we have love for God (even if we don't think of this much, or spend time in devotion) is in the love we show for others.

"When I was hungry, you gave me to eat..." I truly think that Christ is more clearly made present in our caring for others than in any mystic experience. (This is not to say that those who truly are mystics do not possess great love!) Prayer must not be centred on trying to achieve exalted states, visions and the like, or it can degenerate into self hypnosis or, worse, a desire for power that belongs more to the world of Gnosticism or New Age practises than to Christianity.