FOR CHRIST AND HIS LOVE
THE visitation of the Irish monasteries completed, Columba returned to
Iona. But it was no longer as an exile that he left the shores of Erin.
This time it was to "Hy of his love, and Hy of his heart" that he was
bound--to the country that had become dear to him as the land of his
adoption and of his mission; where he had suffered and striven for his
Master's sake, and where his work had been blessed beyond all that he
had hoped or dreamed.
It is especially during the last few years of Columba's life on earth
that we can see how the natural fire and arrogance of his nature had
been gradually transformed into the gentleness and charity of Christ.
It was not without many a struggle that the transformation took place;
but Columbcille was a man of great heart and of determined will; what
he set himself to do was sure to be done. Now he had set himself--with
God's grace--to self-conquest, and the work, though not to be completed
in a day nor yet in a year, was at last by dint of prayer and patience
gloriously achieved. The gentleness of a naturally strong and fiery
temperament won--so to speak--at the sword's point, is always an
extraordinary force in the world, and we find the power of Columba over
his fellow-men and his influence with them for good increasing every
year.
St. Fintan, one of the Saint's first companions in Iona, was asked once
towards the end of Columba's life to describe him to one who had heard
much of his holiness, but who did not know him.
"He is a king amongst kings," answered Fintan, "a sage amongst wise
men, a monk amongst monks. He is poor with God's poor; a mourner with
those who weep, and joyful with those who rejoice. Yet amidst all the
gifts of nature and of grace that have been so liberally showered on
him by God, the true humility of Christ is as royally rooted in his
heart as if it were its natural home."
He was the father, the brother and the friend of all who were in want
or distress; the dauntless champion of the oppressed and of the weak,
the avenger of all who suffered wrong. His prayers and blessing were
sought by all the navigators of the stormy seas of the Hebrides as a
defence against the dangers of the deep; while during his journeys on
the mainland the people would bring out their sick and lay them in his
path, that they might touch the hem of his cloak or receive his
benediction as he passed. Their simple faith was not in vain: many were
the miraculous cures wrought by the Saint, whose prayers were as
powerful with God as those of St. Peter and St. John, and with whom he
might have said "silver and gold I have none, but what I have I give
thee."
He would visit rich and poor alike, and it was often in the houses of
the latter that he met with the truest hospitality. He would find out
with gentle tact what were the means of his humble hosts, and plan ways
of increasing their little store. Once when he was passing through
Lochaber on his way to visit King Bruidh in his royal palace, he was
offered a lodging in the house of a poor peasant and kindly entertained
with the best that the poverty of the house could furnish. In the
morning when the little Highland cows of his host were being driven out
to pasture, Columbcille blessed them, and foretold that they would
increase until in course of time they would number five hundred, and
that the blessing of a grateful traveller would rest upon the man and
his family.
Columba took an observant interest in all the things of nature, and was
often able to advise the peasants how to improve the simple methods of
farming, hunting, and fishing on which their daily food depended. On
one occasion he profited by the hospitality shown to him by a rich
Highland chief to put an end to a deadly feud which in true Highland
fashion had existed for many years between his host and one of his
neighbours. The enemies were reconciled, and both became fast friends
of the peacemaker.
Tender-hearted as Columba was to all who were in sorrow and distress,
to none did his ready sympathy extend more fully than to those who were
exiles from their native land, for he remembered the early days of his
own sojourn in Iona. One of his special friends was a Pictish chief of
noble birth who had received him on the occasion of his first
missionary journey to Caledonia and treated him with generous
hospitality. Some time after he fell into disgrace and was banished
from the country. Columba appealed in his favour to Feradagh, the chief
of the island of Islay, whom he begged to give shelter and protection
to the exile, while he tried what his influence could do with the
Pictish king to obtain his friend's recall. Feradagh, after promising
hospitality to the fugitive, murdered him treacherously for the sake of
his possessions. The news was brought to Columbcille, who cried out in
indignation that the punishment of God would overtake the traitor
before he had tasted of the flesh of the boars that he was fattening
for his table.
Feradagh laughed at the threat but was not a little uneasy, for he had
heard of the strange way in which Columba's prophecies were wont to
come true. He had a boar killed without loss of time and roasted, in
order to reassure himself that this time at least the Saint had been
wrong. As he sat down to table, he fell down from his seat and died, to
the fear and consternation of his followers.
A certain chief named Donnell, who with his sons and followers feared
neither God nor man, was the terror of all the neighbouring country.
Although he could claim kinship with the King of Dalriada, Columba
excommunicated him for his deeds of violence, and he and his family
vowed vengeance on the Saint. Taking advantage of a journey that
Columba was making to a neighbouring island with only one or two
companions, one of the sons of Donnell resolved to murder him as he
slept. But one of Columbcille's companions, a monk named Finn Lugh, was
beset that night with an unaccountable fear for the safety of his holy
abbot, and begged him to lend him his cowl, in which he wrapped himself
and lay down to sleep. In the dead of night the assassin crept upon the
little band of travellers, and, seeking out the monk who wore the
abbot's cowl, stabbed him, and fled to a place of safety. But the
garment of the Saint protected the man who was ready to give his life
for his master, and Finn Lugh escaped without a wound.
Another lawless member of the same family fell upon and robbed a man
who lived upon the rocky peninsula of Ardnamurchan, and had constantly
shown hospitality to Columba on his journeys. The blessing of the Saint
had brought him good fortune, and his little patrimony had increased
year by year. The people, in honour of the affection shown him by the
holy abbot, called him "Columbain" or "the friend of Columba." As the
robber was returning, laden with the spoils of the poor man, to the
boat that was awaiting him at the water's edge, he met Columba himself,
whom he had supposed to be safely distant at Iona. The Saint reproved
him sternly for his crimes, and bade him restore the goods that he had
stolen. The robber chief maintained a grim silence until he was safely
in his boat and well out from the shore. Then he stood up, and bursting
into a storm of insults and evil words, shouted defiance and derision
at Columbcille as long as his voice could be heard. The oppression of
the helpless never failed to rouse Columba's wrath. He strode out into
the water after the retreating boat, and, raising his arms to heaven,
prayed that justice might be done on the robber. Then returning quietly
to his companions he said to them, "That wicked man who despises Christ
in His poor will return no more to these shores. The cup of his iniquity
is full." Shortly afterwards a storm arose, and the boat with all that
were in it sank like a stone between Mull and Colonsay.
But it was not only to the poor and the oppressed that Columba's
charity was shown. We find him at the Court of King Aidan, holding his
young son Hector "the Blond" in his arms and praying that his life
might be as fair as his features. To the nobles who kept the laws of
God he was as devoted a friend as he was a steadfast opponent of those
who outraged them. To the penitent he was full of mercy and hope, and
many sinners were persuaded by his eloquence and power to forsake their
evil ways.
But nowhere was his charity more clearly shown than with his own
community at Iona. He foresaw the needs of all, and watched over his
spiritual sons with a fatherly love and care. During one of the last
summers of his life when the monks were coming back in the evening
after a day of harvesting, they stopped short at a little distance from
the monastery to enjoy the sense of peace and consolation that seemed
to come to meet them as they approached their home.
"How is it," asked one of the younger brethren, "that at this spot
every night when we return from our daily labours, our hearts rejoice,
our burdens grow light, and the very perfume of heaven seems borne to
us on the breeze?"
"I will tell you," said Baithen, the beloved friend and successor of
Columba. "Our saintly abbot, whose heart is with us in our work, is
praying for us and longing for our safe return. His heart is heavy with
our weariness, and, having no longer the strength to come in the body
to meet us and help us with our burdens, he sends forth the blessing
and the prayer of his soul to refresh and console us on our way."
Not only his fellow-men but all the creatures of God were dear to
Columba for their Creator's sake. One day he bade a certain monk at
Iona go down to the seashore and watch.
"For," said the Saint, "ere the night falls a weary guest will arrive
to us from Ireland, faint and ready to die. Succour her and tend her
carefully for three days, and when she is rested and refreshed let her
go, that she may return once more to her native land." The guest was a
poor storm-driven crane which fell on the shore exhausted at the
brother's feet. He bore it tenderly to the monastery and cared for it
as his master had bidden. In the evening Columba met the monk and
blessed him for his compassion to the weary stranger; and, as he had
foretold, on the third day, strengthened and refreshed the bird took
its flight back to Erin.