Part 2

It is well to look at the matter of visions and revelations in the light of Holy Scripture. That the servants of God have seen visions divinely shown to them, no one can doubt who believes the Bible; nor that they have from time to time received direct revelations from God. Also, we read as a promise made to Christian people, that "your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; and on My servants and on My hand-maidens I will pour out in those days of My Spirit, and they shall prophesy."

In the first place, therefore, we must admit that visions and revelations are, in the cases here mentioned, a reality, and a special gift of God, in consequence of the exaltation of Christ to the right hand of God, This is the explanation of these facts given by the Apostle Peter in the 33rd verse of the 2nd chapter of the Acts.

But when we read the various accounts in the Acts of the fulfilment of this promise, or the accounts in the Old Testament of similar visions and revelations, we find one marked distinction between these accounts and those given in mediaeval legends. In the Bible the point is, not the state of exaltation to which such and such a man or woman attained, but, leaving them out of the question altogether, we are simply told what it was God showed or revealed to His servants. The seeing of visions is never spoken of as being the highest state of Christian life in the New Testament, or of spiritual life in the Old Testament. On the contrary, God on some occasions gave revelations to the most unworthy, and simply used them to speak the words He put into their mouths, whether they would or no--a truth which he taught to Balaam by using an ass as an example.

But in mediaeval times, a _state_ in which the man, or more frequently the woman, became liable to visions, was the thing mainly to be desired. It was not as in the case of Amos, who was content to go on herding his cows and picking his figs till the Lord gave him his message. The mediaeval saint was trained and wrought upon by fasting and watching, by the study of the wildest legends, and by a conviction that the seeing of visions betokened a state of special holiness. This preparation of the mind, and one may say mainly of the _body_, for an unnatural and unwholesome condition produced the desired effect. The attacks of catalepsy, of convulsions and other diseased symptoms, were hailed as supernatural signs, and the disorder of the brain as a work of the Spirit. And from one to another the infection spread, as the convulsions and delusions excited envy and admiration, and a straining of the mind after something of like sort.

The atmosphere, therefore, of the convent of Hellfde, and of many other convents of Germany and Belgium, was scarcely a wholesome one; and we must disentangle the spiritual teaching, which truly came from God, from the "revelations" which, if spiritual at all, and not wholly the result of disease, were the work of the evil one.

But whilst amongst facts well known to medical scientists, and amongst facts belonging to still unexplored and unknown regions of psychology, there may be quite enough to account for the stories, if really true, of the mass of mediaeval visions, we must remember, also, that a great many of these stories were the inventions of those whose interest it was to compose them.

The disastrous fact remained that, by means of these fables, or of real hallucinations, errors in belief and in practice were taught and encouraged. It would not occur to those brought up in a belief of superstitions, which had descended, under other names, from heathen times, to sift or examine the legends which were their daily food. It is for us to sift out from amongst the working of disordered brains, and the inventions of ignorant people, the true teaching which they received from the only Wise God, who cared for His loving, but ignorant, children of the Middle Ages, as He cares now for His more enlightened, but alas! more lukewarm, children of the nineteenth century.

There is one more remark to be made with regard to the accounts given by really holy people of their visions and dreams. Occasionally, it was merely a form of writing in symbol, as when John Bunyan describes having seen in his dream Christian escaping from the City of Destruction. There were two reasons for this in the case of the mediaeval "Friends of God." It was, in the first place, dangerous to say in plain words that which would have brought down upon them the curse of the Church. They spoke, therefore, largely in symbol, whether by word or by forms and devices of architecture. This language was common to them, and it was well understood by those who had the key in their common faith.

In the second place, the want of adequate words to express spiritual truths must always be felt, and much can be said in symbol which could not be said at much greater length in plain speech. In how many words could that be taught us which we learn from the one expression, "The Lamb of God"?

And that many of those of whom the histories remain, were truly God's children, truly taught by the Holy Ghost, and in continual communion with Him as a real and solid fact, we cannot doubt. They lived a true life of intercourse with Him, clouded and bewildered by the errors of their times, by their unnatural bodily conditions, and by the fear of sinning against the authority which some of them believed to be from God--the fatal power of the Roman Church.

In this dreamland of visions and revelations the nuns of Hellfde lived--or rather, into it they frequently wandered. They certainly at times trod the solid earth, and fulfilled their various duties in a practical manner. They also spent much time, more, no doubt, than many spend now, in "the good land, the land of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of valley and hills, and that drinketh water of the rain of heaven." It was a familiar land to those who abode in Him who is there.

And it is a relief to find that, in spite of their extreme love and reverence for the Abbess Gertrude, they had no visions to report as seen by her. She probably had more to do with creatures of flesh and blood, with the strong wills and natures of the girls sent to her from the castles of the nobles, than with creatures of her own imagination; and she looked for revelations, and found them in the Word of God. "She undertook the most menial work," writes one of the compilers of the _Mechthild Book_, "and took a considerable part in the common employments of the sisters. Sometimes she was the first and the only one at work till she called others to help her, or led them to do so by her example and her pleasant, friendly words. However busy she might be, she always found time to visit each one who was sick, and inquire if there was anything she needed. And with her own hands she waited upon them, either bringing them refreshments, or soothing and comforting them.

"She read the Holy Scriptures very diligently, and with great delight, as often as she could, and required of those under her care that they should do the same. In prayer she was very fervent and reverent, she seldom prayed without tears. She had a wonderful quietness of spirit; and at her hours of prayer her heart was so peaceful and free from care, that if she were called to speak to any one, or to other business, she went back afterwards and prayed as quietly as if she had not been disturbed. Amongst the children she was the gentlest and kindest, and with the older maidens the holiest and most sensible of friends, and with the elder women the most affectionate and wise. She was never to be seen idle; either she had a piece of work on hand, or she was reading, or teaching, or praying."

It can, therefore, easily be imagined that the Abbess Gertrude suffered neither from catalepsy nor convulsions, but that she was a wholesome and cheerful woman. In her last days she had a paralytic seizure, which deprived her of the power of speech for some time before her death; but she appeared to be fully conscious, and interested as before in the sisters of the convent.

Matilda.

We must now go back to the time when the Abbess Gertrude was in full strength and activity at the age of thirty-three. In that year, 1265, there arrived at the convent of Hellfde an infirm, worn-out Beguine, a namesake of two inmates of the convent--Matilda von Hackeborn and the Lady Matilda of the choir. The Beguine went by the name of Matilda of Magdeburg.

It would be interesting to know as much of her history as she related to the nuns of Hellfde. As it is, we have but an outline of it. We know thus much, that for Christ's sake she had "renounced worldly honour and worldly riches." She had evidently been brought up, writes Preger, "under the influence of court life and of knightly company, and we see that she was accustomed to the manners of noble ladies, and to the language of the higher classes. There is a chivalric tone in her expressions which seems to link her words with the knightly poetry of her time, a poetry then at the height of its cultivation. And as in her words, so in her actions--there was a freedom and powerful independence which betoken high birth."

Yet of her family and of her birthplace nothing is known. The date of her birth we know, the year 1212. Apparently her home was not far from Magdeburg. We are told of her brother Baldwin, later a Dominican friar, that from a child he had been "brought up in all good manner of living and in virtuous habits." Matilda, therefore, had no doubt been carefully educated.

Others said of her, "that from her childhood she had led an innocent, unsullied life." Of herself she says, "that in her earliest childhood her sins were many and great. But that even then, whenever she had a trouble and was sad, she prayed to God. I knelt down before my Beloved, and said, O Lord, now I am unhappy. Can it be for Thy glory that I should go away uncomforted! But I was the most simple and ignorant of any who ever desired to walk in the way of life. Of the malice of the devil, I knew nothing; of the misery of the world, I knew nothing whatsoever; and the false profession of people who are called spiritual was also unknown to me.

"But I must say this for the honour of God, that one day in my twelfth year, when I was all alone, I received the greeting of the Holy Ghost, unworthy sinner as I was, in such overflowing measure, that I never afterwards could endure the thought of committing a great and deadly sin. This blessed greeting was repeated day after day, and it filled me with love and sorrow. I had learnt from God alone what is Christian faith, and I made it my rule of life; thus my heart was kept pure, but of the mysteries of God I knew nothing as yet.

"Whilst during my youth I lived with my friends and relations, amongst whom I was the best beloved, the mysteries of God remained unknown to me. But during that time I long had the desire that, without any fault of mine, I might be despised by the world, whilst meanwhile the sweetness and honour of the world seemed greater to me day by day."

This is all we can learn of the early years of Matilda in her unknown home; but we have in few touches a picture of a rare and simple nature, humbled by the sense of sin, but proud enough to desire to be despised; sweet enough also to be loved with unusual love, and to find it a delight.

In the year 1235, at the age of twenty-three, she tore herself from those who thus loved her and went to Magdeburg, where she only knew one person, a friend of her family. But she avoided this one friend, lest he should persuade her to give up her determination to live alone for God. She asked to be received in a convent, but she was refused. She was unknown and without any means, and she was looked upon with suspicion and contempt. She had her desire. She was alone and despised.

"But God," she says, "never forsook me. He filled me so continually with the sweetness of His love, He drew me into such intimacy with Himself, and He showed me such unspeakable wonders of His heart, that I could well afford to lose the world and all that is in it."

What were the further wanderings of Matilda we do not know, but it was only a little while after her refusal at the convent that she became one of the persecuted order of the Beguines.

A word as to the Beguines.

There lived at Liege, at the end of the twelfth century, a priest named Lambert le Begues. His name does not prove him to have been a stammerer; on the contrary, he was a preacher of great fervour, and attracted multitudes to his sermons. Le Begues was probably the name of his family.

At that time the Bishop of Liege, whose name was Raoul, was a man of evil reputation. He had formerly been Archbishop of Mainz, but had been deposed from his office on account of simony. At Liege he sold by auction in the market-place the church preferments that fell to his share. The clergy of Liege, who had not been shining examples of holy living even before the arrival of Bishop Raoul, were now encouraged by his example to live in a disorderly manner, and the morals of the town of Liege were at a very low ebb when Lambert began his preaching there.

It would seem that at that time, both in towns and country places, there were a number of wandering priests, who went about preaching and administering the Sacraments, without being under the orders of any special bishop. Probably they were more or less associated with the lay preachers of the "Brethren," called in a vague way the Waldensian Brethren, whose evangelising was carried on so extensively as to bring upon them much persecution in the whole of Western Europe.

It was in order to direct this zeal for evangelising into more Catholic channels that Francis of Assisi and Dominic founded the orders of predicant friars; just as in our days the "Church Army" in England has been formed to bring under Church authority the work of evangelisation, which had been set on foot by the Salvation Army.

Lambert was apparently one of the independent priests who preached on their own account, and was, therefore, free to speak unwelcome truths. He had been originally a chorister in S. Paul's Church at Liege. He was probably a man with means of his own; for not only did he preach earnestly and constantly against the worldliness of the professing Church, but he provided a practical means of separating from the world.

In a large garden which he had by the river side beyond the city walls he built a number of small separate houses, which he filled with women of all classes who desired to live a secluded life and devote themselves to good works. In the middle of the garden he built a church, dedicated to S. Christopher, which was finished in the year 1184. Lambert then placed his community under the care of a priest.

These Beguine sisters took no vows; they were free to leave the community when they chose to do so. They retained possession of their money and property. They were under no convent rules; they simply promised obedience to their Superior as long as they remained in the Beguinage. But if they wished to return to ordinary life, or to marry, they had a right to do so, as married women living, of course, no longer in the community. They were not required to wear any special dress, but to be clothed in "modest apparel."

They lived either alone in one of the little houses, or two or more together, keeping house for themselves, and having their rooms very simply furnished. They did their own baking and brewing; and if they had no means of their own, they had some employment by which to gain their living. This Beguine life was, therefore, regarded by the Church as less meritorious than convent life, notwithstanding the fact that the Beguines were employed in nursing the sick, attending to the poor, and in teaching young girls reading, writing, and needlework. They were free to go out with leave of the Superior and visit their friends, or the poor in the town outside of which the Beguinage was built. Some of them might even live in the town, wearing ordinary dresses, and keeping shops, or maintaining themselves by their labour.

These rules of Beguine life were multiplied in various ways as Beguine communities became rapidly very numerous in Belgium, Holland, and Germany.

But to return to Lambert, their founder. His sermons, which contained solemn warnings addressed to the higher clergy by reason of their evil ways, very soon brought upon him persecution and ill-usage. During one of his sermons in the great church of S. Lambert he was seized by order of the bishop, and imprisoned in the castle of Revogne. He employed himself in his dungeon in translating the Acts of the Apostles from Latin into French.

Amongst other accusations which had been brought against him, it was said that he had prophesied the destruction of S. Lambert's Church. Whilst he was translating in his dungeon, it came to pass, on the 28th of April 1185, that the sexton of the church went up into the belfry to ring the bell. He had taken with him a pan of hot coals in order to warm his hands. A coal must have fallen through a crack in the floor into a space below, where wood and straw were stored up. In the following night the tower was seen to be in flames.

The fire spread quickly, burning not only the church, but the bishop's palace, which stood near, the houses of the canons, and the neighbouring churches of S. Peter, S. Trudo, S. Clement, and the Eleven Thousand Virgins. For three days the whole town was in the greatest danger.

The charge against Lambert was now changed into an accusation of sorcery. He was brought to his trial, but the "four discreet and learned men" appointed by the bishop to judge his cause, could find no proof of any offence with which he was charged. The people of Liege, who were displeased at his imprisonment, began to clamour for his release; and he himself demanded to be set free, that he might go to Rome and appeal to the Pope.

His request was granted. The Pope acquitted him of all charges brought against him, and authorised his work by instituting him formally as the Patriarch of the Beguines.

He only survived this journey to Rome six months, and died at Liege towards the end of the year 1187. He was buried before the high altar in his church of S. Christopher. Some chroniclers relate these facts in a slightly different way, according to which Lambert was sent to Rome by the bishop with a list of charges brought against him. But the important point remains proved, that he was the founder of the widely-spread community of men and women known later as Beghards and Beguines.

For after his death, possibly before, communities of men were formed on the plan of the Beguine communities. These men maintained themselves by weaving or other handicrafts. They met together for meals and for prayer, but did not have their possessions in common. They had no rule, but were accustomed to wear simple clothes--brown, white, black, or grey.

As time went on, the ranks of the Beghards or Beguines were largely recruited by the "Friends of God," with whom they seem at all times to have been in constant intercourse; so that in the fourteenth century to be a Beghard or Beguine, meant much the same thing as to belong to the Waldensian Brethren. In consequence, their persecutions during the fourteenth century amounted at last to extermination, their houses being replenished from the ranks of "orthodox" Roman Catholics. The persons, therefore, from that time onwards bearing the name of Beghards or Beguines differed in nothing from members of Roman Catholic orders.

The Great Sorrow.

But to return to Matilda, who joined the Beguines at the time when they had already earned for themselves the reproach of Christ, and when, on the other hand, there were those amongst them who had wandered far from the primitive simplicity of the first inhabitants of Lambert le Begues garden-houses.

By these latter (though they, too, claimed to be the "Friends of God,") Matilda was "bitterly despised." And she who had lived during her youth in ignorance of "the false profession of people called spiritual" had to learn amongst "the religious" many a sorrowful lesson. Not amongst Beguines only, but on all sides the fact forced itself upon the heart of Matilda that the Church was fallen from her first estate.

"I, poor creature as I was, could yet be so presumptuous as to lift up the whole of corrupt Christendom upon the arms of my soul, and hold it up in lamentation before God.

"And our Lord said, 'Leave it alone, it is too heavy for thee.' And I made answer, 'O my beloved Lord, I will lift it, and bear it to Thy feet, and cast it into Thine own arms, which bore it on the cross.' And God in His pity let me have my will, that I might find rest in casting it upon Him.

"And this poor Christendom, brought into the presence of the Lord, seemed to me as a maiden of whom I felt bitterly ashamed.

"And the Lord said, 'Yea, behold her, blind in her belief, and lame in her hands which do no good works, and crippled in her feet with evil desires, and seldom and idly does she think of Me; and she is leprous with impurity and uncleanness.'"

And the foremost in the guilt of Christendom she found to be those who should have been the pastors and teachers, "the great he-goats, who are defiled with all uncleanliness, and with frightful greed and avarice."

To the Lord, "the High Pope in Heaven," Matilda turned for guidance and consolation. "When I wake in the night," she said, "I think, have I the strength to pray as I desire for unfaithful Christendom, which is a sorrow of heart to Him I love." She prayed for the priests, that from goats they might become lambs, that they might forget the law of the Jews, and think of the blood of the Lamb who was slain, and mourn over the sufferings of the Lord.

"Alas for holy Christendom, for the crown is fallen from thy head, thy precious jewels are lost; for thou art a troubler and a persecutor of the holy faith. Thy gold is dimmed in the mire of evil pleasures, thy purity is burnt up in the consuming fire of greed, thy humility is sunk in the swamp of the flesh, and thy truth has been swept away by the lying spirit of the world!

"Alas for the fallen crown, the holy priesthood! For thee there remains nothing but ruin and destruction, for with spiritual power thou makest war upon God, and upon His friends. Therefore God will humble thee before thou art aware, He will smite the heart of the pope at Rome with bitter grief.

"And in that grief and calamity the Lord will speak to him and accuse him, saying, 'Thy shepherds have become murderers and wolves, before My eyes they slaughter the white lambs, and the sheep are weak and weary, for there is none to lead them to the wholesome pastures on the high mountain side; that is, to the love and the nurture of God. But if any know not the way to hell, let him look at the corrupted clergy, and see how straightly they go thither. Therefore must I take away the worn-out mantle and give a new mantle to My Bride, to holy Christendom.

"If thou, son pope, shouldst bring that to pass, thy days might be lengthened. For that the popes before thee lived short lives, was because they did not fulfil My will.' And it was as if I could see the pope at his prayers, and God thus answering him.[2] And in the night I saw the Lord in the dress of a pilgrim, and as if He had journeyed through the whole of Christendom. And I fell at His feet and said, 'Beloved pilgrim, whence comest Thou?' And He answered, 'I come from Jerusalem'--by which name He meant the holy Church--'and I have been driven forth from My dwelling. The heathen knew Me not, the Jews suffered Me not, and the Christians fought against Me.'