Dear Folk,
Today, July 24, marks the deaths of two saints: one who stood up on a pillar, the other who stood up to the Scourge of God.
Let’s go with the pole sitter or stander first, shall we? Simeon the Stylite spent thirty-seven years of his life standing on a pillar in the desert around Antioch. Now some radio DJs think that being up on a cherry picker an entire weekend is a tough gig! Simeon was not what anyone would call a very worldly man; you probably know someone a lot like him in your life. He got religion really hard at a young age. He was listening to his first sermon, “Blessed are the pure of heart,” and some Divine force got hold of him. He asked the preacher, and this was around 400 CE, how to become pure of heart. The preacher answered that becoming a monk might be the best thing. Simeon signed up but a voice told him to “dig ever deeper.”
After ten years of monkish life, he got permission to become a hermit. He built himself a round enclosure and shackled his leg to a pole in the center so he could not leave. This strange behavior worried the established church at the time. The bishop of Antioch came out and told Simeon to quit the chained-for-God bit. Simeon did obey. I think the bishop and other prelates were worried because Simeon was getting some good press out of all of this. Folks came by to gawk and then to ask Simeon advice. God only knows that pretty soon the folks would expect to see the bishop out there in rags, chained to a post. That would never do.
It was those crowds who first made Simeon think of living higher up, out of their reach. Just like at a rock concert, folks that came by wanted to take a bit of clothing for a souvenir. Simeon did not have a lot to give them. He built a platform nine feet high on a shaft (stylos in Greek), to prevent people from grabbing him while he was at prayer. And he did pray! One biographer, Theoderet, stopped counting Simeon’s prayerful bows at over 1244 in one session. The nine feet one was not enough, folks could still interrupt him to ask silly questions like how did he sleep and where was the nearest clean rest room. So Simeon kept building up. He built an 18 foot one, a 33 foot one, and eventually one over 60 feet tall.
As to the visitors’ questions, he slept tied to a pole on the top of the pillar. Sometimes he slept leaning over a small railing around the top. He did not sleep or eat much. Clean restrooms were in the gas station down the street, just like the always are. And no, he did not get off the pillar to do that. Don’t ask.
So Simeon stood there, talked with God, got as close to Heaven as he could on Earth. He was sort of a wick on the candle of God. How is that for a pretty conceit? He was snuffed on this date 459 CE. (Hey, I could not taper off.)
Now about the other guy who stood up to the Scourge of God. You do know the title, do you not? That was Attila the Hun. The saint’s name was Lupus (how’s that, Wolfie?) Lupus, called in French "Loup", was born at Toul, Gaul. He married the sister of St. Hilary of Arles, but after six years of marriage they parted by mutual agreement. That was before California divorce courts. He gave his wealth to the poor instead of the ex-wife and her lawyers, entered Lerins Abbey under St. Honoratus, and about 426 CE was named Bishop of Troyes. In 429 CE, he accompanied St. Germanus of Auxerre to Britain to combat Pelagianism there, and on his return, devoted himself to his episcopal duties.
I know there are some folks out there who just have to know what Pelagianism is. Well, it is bad! Stop doing it! Now, are you any better off? Okay, Pelagianism, in Christian theology, is a rationalistic and naturalistic heretical doctrine concerning grace and morals, which emphasizes human free will as the decisive element in human perfectibility and minimizes or denies the need for divine grace and redemption. Or, so you think your works will get you into Heaven? Think again! Can we move along now?
In about 450 CE Attila, King of the Huns, moved his folks into Gaul. They were cruising, hanging out, demonstrating trick riding and some archery to the locals. They were a long way from home and wanted company. This was before USOs which were built just to avoid this kind of behavior. It is told that when Attila was approaching the town of Troyes in 453 CE, Lupus got all dolled up in his bishop robes, vestments and hat and met Attila at the gates. When Lupus asked Mr. A who he was, Attila told him “Man, they call me ‘The Scourge of God!’” Lupus looked up at him, blinked his baby-blues at this shaggy, smelly, rugged, bloody conqueror and said, “Well, if you are the instrument of God, you can only do what God gives you to do.” This confused Attila.
He spared the town, took Lupus over his saddle and headed out. When Attila was defeated at Chalons, Lupus was accused of helping him escape and was forced to leave Troyes. He lived as a hermit for two years and then was allowed to return to Troyes. Lupus supposedly died on this date in 478 CE. I don’t know. Maybe Lupus and Attila had more in common than you might think. Scourges were pretty heavily used by the more extreme Christians of the day. It said so in one of my books.
So what have we learned here? Some folks get high in rather unusual ways? A wolf and a Hun can get along pretty well if both set good boundaries? Pelagianism will get you whacked and then thrown into the lake of eternal fire? No matter how holy you are trying to be, some folks just got to ask dumb questions? In a divorce, some folks get the Hun and some just get the stylos? How about the established church just will never understand those who talk directly with the Divine Presence?