For my first term in college, the syllabus consisted of intensive study of four classic works of history. One of these was A History of the English Church and People, which was written in the early 8th century by a monk who came to be known as the Venerable Bede.

As I worked my way through this text in the original Latin, I gradually fell in love with the saintly people depicted in Bedes narrative. I already knew Columba, for he is the patron saint of the Scottish Church, honored for bringing Christianity from his native Ireland to Scotland by way of the tiny island of Iona.

But the others Aidan, Cuthbert, Oswald, Hilda, Chad and more were new acquaintances. They have become my companions in the faith, introducing me to the earliest roots of Christian faith in my native land and also to the riches and distinctiveness of the way people worshipped and thought in all the places on the fringes of Western Europe that are associated with Celts.

Cuthbert, in particular, has become a revered soul friend and I have traveled several times to Holy Island, a small barren island connected at low tide by a causeway to the coast of northeastern England, just a few miles south of the Scottish border.

It was here that Cuthbert spent much of his life as abbot, hermit and finally bishop of Lindisfarne, the priory on Holy Island that was founded by Columbas monks. The priory was later sacked and destroyed by Danish invaders, but the monks managed to escape with treasures including the exquisite Lindisfarne Gospels (now in the British Library).

There is a special quality about the island, which seems imbued with the character of those Celtic saints, who were firmly committed to their faith, yet gracious and compassionate.

I am by no means alone in my appreciation for Celtic spirituality. In recent years, there has been a revival of interest in the distinct pattern of spirituality reflected in the early monastic liturgies of the Celtic church in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, northern England, Cornwall and Brittany.

A growing number of Episcopal churches now offer what is termed a Celtic Eucharist, often on a monthly basis. At St. Michaels Episcopal Church, we held our first Celtic Eucharist a couple of Sundays ago and it was well received.

The order of worship was similar to our usual liturgy, but the prayers and music reflected the spiritual traditions of the ancient Celtic church. The prayers came from the 8th century and 9th century Stowe Missal, the oldest book from the early Irish Church still extant.

We began with the hymn known as St. Patricks Breastplate, also called the Lorica litany. The word lorica is Latin and means shield or breastplate. Since prayer was viewed as a spiritual shield, an Irish lorica was a prayer for protection against evil. When pagans converted to Christianity in Ireland, these loricas replaced the old incantations.

See original here:

WHITTAKER: Celtic spirituality offers unique look at religion