St Columba, Abbot of Iona, Missionary 597 (Jun 9)

The Iron Dove

Isa. 61:1-3; Ps. 34; 1 Thess. 2:2-12; Luke 12:32-37

‘As you know, we dealt with each one of you like a father with his children, urging and encouraging you and pleading that you should lead a life worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.’ 1 Thessalonians 2:11-12

Of noble birth

Columba (‘Dove’) was born of noble parents of the royal clan O’Neill, in Donegal. He studied under St Finbar at Moville and St Finnian at Clonard, and was ordained early. He divided his time between preaching and founding monasteries – and in writing poetry and sacred books. Trouble appears to have flared up when the O’Neills objected to Columba’s copying of another’s work; a lawsuit – probably the first public infringement of copyright – was brought, and Columba so enraged feelings on both sides between King Diarmid and the O’Neills that virtual civil war broke out.

To Scotland

It seemed appropriate to leave for Scotland, where he and 12 companions landed on Iona. The monastery they established on the island was to serve as the base for much of Columba’s ministry among the Scots. The years brought a mellowing of his temper, and he became known as the ‘Gentle Dove’. But to the end he was an implacable opponent of the Druids and their pagan beliefs. A breakthrough came when the pagan king of the Picts, Brude, converted to Christianity. Many baptisms followed, and Columba at last began to see some fruits of his labours. A dedicated scholar and able rhetorician, he moved in high as well as lower circles, to the end of his life still finding time to copy books of the Gospels for his monks to use on their preaching missions.

The worth of the monastery

Columba firmly believed in building up the monastic system, seeing in each monastery the ideal base for worship and outreach, ministry and mission. It was a plan that the people of Scotland appeared to accept with great profit. Columba’s effort did much to bolster Christianity in Western Europe following the collapse of the Roman empire.

Fire and brimstone

Columba, though he could be so gentle, was no bread-and-butter saint. Forceful, dogmatic, even arrogant, he was of the stuff that was needed to confront the deep-seated paganism of the druidical North. The sheer volume of his work must have meant that Columba spent very little time in sleep. He could be impatient with his monks, yet he maintained a loyal following throughout his ministry. He was alive – very human, very fallible, yet totally committed to the work to which he believed God had called him.

Can we really live?

Can we, like Columba, really live for God? Can we, like him, unshackle ourselves from the plethora of suffocating caveats and worries about whether we dare, or not? One can be so afraid of ruffling anyone’s feathers, or rocking the boat – we can use innumerable cliches to mean the same thing. If we ‘go for God’, as Columba did, we shall make mistakes – yes, and probably make some ripples on the smooth waters of mediocrity – but there’s a good chance that we shall do a better job of making God known.

Suggested hymns

Inspired by love and anger; Let me have my way among you; O Jesus, I have promised; Will you come and follow me?