Day 5. Lindisfarne

  

And so I come to Lindisfarne, the official start of St Oswald's Way, which ends at Heavenfield, but I think this is the wrong way round and has more to do with offering a coherent system of Pilgrimage trails, rather than accurately depicting the life of St Oswald.

Heavenfield was the site of Oswald's first great battle, where with inferior forces he defeated the Welsh invader, Cadwalla, and took back the throne of Nothumberland, whilst Lindisfarne represents the fulfilment of Oswald's ambition for Nothumbria to become a Christian kingdom. 

Having regained the throne, Oswald sent word to Iona, where he had lived, in exile with the Irish monks and priests, after his father was killed in battle. Oswald asked the holy men of Iona to send a priest to help him fulfill his mission to lead the people of Northumbria back to Christianity. The original candidate, a rather pious man, found the Northumbrians abit too rough and ready and returned to Iona, suggesting it was a lost cause, but another priest, Aidan, a man with more patience and humility, took up the challenge and a great partnership would be formed.

Oswald was a warrior saint, fighting to preserve peace and stability in his Kingdom at a time of great upheaval, as well as manifesting his faith in his daily life. Bede records that Oswald prayed daily, often from dawn to the early morning, sitting with his hands resting on his knees with his palms uppermost. A prayerful position still used today, leaving us open to receive from God. Oswald also acted as translator when Aidan gave sermons, Bede writes

'And while the Bishop [Aidan], who was not fluent in the English language, preached the Gospel, it was most delightful to see the king himself interpreting the word of God to his ealdorman and thegns, for he himself had obtained perfect command of the Irish tongue during his long exile.'

As a leader at the time Oswald would have been expected to be generous to his people, but one story recounts that whilst at a meal with Aidan a servant came to inform them of starving people at the castle gate. Oswald instructed the servant to take a silver platter of food and divide it amongst them, and for the dish also to be broken into pieces and given to them.  

Aidan did not want to be based at the fortress in Bamburgh, but wanted somewhere slightly withdrawn, an island retreat, like Iona, where the monks could live and pray, whilst also venturing out to carry the word of God. Oswald suggested Lindisfarne but said it wasn't a proper island, going on to explain that the island lay in a shallow sea and twice in every twenty-four hours, when the tide went out, the island was again joined to the mainland via sand and mudflats. Then the tide turns and the island is once again cut off and can only be accessed by boat.  

With Oswald's support Aidan founded the Priory at Lindisfarne in the year 635, and the island, with it's strange tidal rhythms, remains a place of faith and pilgrimage and contemplation.

Today I visit the English Heritage Priory Museum and the ruins of the later Priory, supposedly built on the site of the original, in 12th Century. There is now speculation that the original priory church may have been situated on the raised ground of the Heugh following the discovery of archaeological remains of a church here in 2016/2017. This would fit with the tradition at the time of building monasteries/priories on exposed sites that could be seen from a distance.

My favourite item in the museum was the name stone of Osgyth, a rare memorial stone to a woman, you can see it here, along with other museum exhibits Lindisfarne Priory Collection Highlights | English Heritage (english-heritage.org.uk). Click on the image and then the red info symbol to get more details.

 On exploring the ruined priory I discover more 'night stairs', much more ruinous and less grand than those in Hexham Abbey, but I think there is something significant that these stone steps should survive in both buildings and I am drawn to them. There is something deeply spiritual about waking for night prayer, Vigils, as they were called in the Canonical Hours, when we are often at our most vulnerable. I imagine the monks descending the stairs from their dormitories to say their prayers in the chapel. The passage of feet and whispered prayers worn into the stone. 

And as the sun begins to set on this night, and the tide begins to ebb, I go down to the quiet, calm of St Cuthbert's Bay, because on some nights something very beautiful occurs. As the tide withdraws the seals that live around the Island gather on the sandbanks and call to each other. This is not the barking or squeaking you would expect, but an eerie, ethereal sound, a kind of song echoing across the water. It is perhaps one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard, and like sailors of old I am drawn back to this siren song, because as the seals begin to sing I am stilled and I know that all is perfectly well.