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a story from saxon times

Posted by newgeorge on 2009-02-13 19:12:22, Friday

I have been reading Bede’s ‘History of the English Church and People’ which he wrote over many years in his monastery in Jarrow at the mouth of the River Wear, completing it in 731. There is one story in Book Five, Chapter Two which I really loved: it's a miracle-story with a difference I think and, for some reason, I especially like the way it ends.
Here is the translation of the story from the original Latin by Leo Shirley-Price.

You might think it strange that I place this story on this forum but if you are an American with an anglo-saxon heritage, as many of you surely are, then Bede is really one of your founding fathers-in-faith.

At the beginning of King Alfrid’s reign* Bishop Eata died, and was succeeded as Bishop of Hexham by a holy man named John. Many miracles are told of him by those who knew him well, and in particular by Berthun, a most reverential and truthful man, formerly John’s deacon and now abbot of the monastery known as Inderawood, which means ‘In the wood of the Deiri’. (now the town of Beverly, East Yorkshire.) I have thought it fitting to preserve the memory of some of these miracles for posterity.
Whenever opportunity offered and especially during Lent, this man of God used to retire with a few companions to read and pray quietly in an isolated house surrounded by open woodland and a dyke. It stood a mile and a half from the church at Hexham across the river Tyne, and had a burial-ground dedicated to St Michael the Archangel. John once came to stay here at the beginning of Lent, and as was his invariable custom, told his companions to find some poor person who was either seriously infirm or in dire want, so that he might live with them during their stay and benefit from their alms.
In a village not far distant lived a dumb youth known to the bishop, who had often visited him to receive alms, and had never been able to utter a single word. In addition, he had so many scabs and scales on his head that no hair ever grew on the crown, but only a few wisps in a ragged circle. So the bishop ordered this youth to be fetched, and a little hut to be made for him in the enclosure round the house, where he could live and receive his daily allowance. When one week of Lent was past, on the following sunday John told the poor fellow to come to him, and ordered him to put out his tongue and show it him: then he took him by the chin, and making the sign of the holy cross on his tongue, told him to retract it and speak. ‘Pronounce some word’, he said: ‘say gae,’ which is the English word of agreement and assent, i.e. ‘yes’. The young man’s tongue was loosed, and at once he did what he was told. The bishop then proceeded to the names of letters:
‘Say A,’ he said. And he said ‘A’. ‘Now say B,’ he said, which the youth did. And when he had repeated the names of each of the letters after the bishop, the latter added syllables and words for him to repeat after him. When he had said all of them, he told him to repeat longer sentences, and he did so. All those who were present say that all that day and the next night, as long as he could keep awake, the youth never stopped saying something, and expressing his own thoughts and wishes to others, which he had never been able to do previously. . . . The bishop was delighted at his cure, and directed the physician to undertake the cure of the youth’s scabby head.
The physician did as he was asked, and with the assistance of the bishop’s blessing and prayers, his skin healed, and a vigorous growth of hair appeared. So the youth obtained a clear complexion, readiness of speech, and a beautiful head of hair, whereas he had formerly been deformed, destitute and dumb. The bishop was so pleased with his recovery that he offered to give him a permanent place in his own household, but the lad preferred to return to his own home.

There is an online version of the entire book and here is the same passage in the online version. http://www.ccel.org/ccel/bede/history.v.v.ii.html
I prefer the Shirley-Price translation myself.

*not the well-known King Alfred, who was born a century and a half later, in 847.


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