On June 9, the Church remembers St. Columba, missionary of Scotland. Like St. Patrick and St. Boniface, he is one of the more well-known missionary-monks, but sadly his commemoration is not included in the Lutheran Service Book.

Born around AD 521, Columba came from a branch of one of the royal families in northern Ireland. St. Patrick (c. AD 389–461) had evangelized the Irish about three generations previously and the church was spreading across the island, but by the 500s some royal families were still practicing pagans; possibly Columba’s as well. In any case, Columba was brought up with a foster-father (a custom for his people and time) who happened to be a priest, so it is not surprising that Columba eventually entered holy orders and was educated in theology, poetry, and music. His Irish name, Colum Cille, means “Dove of the Church.”

When he was about 40 years old, along with 12 companions, Columba “sailed away from Ireland to Britain choosing to be a pilgrim for Christ” (in the words of his biographer St. Adomnan). It may also have been that he was escaping political turmoil that embroiled his noble family. The brothers made the short journey from northern Ireland to the western islands of Scotland, and settled on the tiny island of Iona (AD 563). At the time, there was already a strong connection with the Irish-Scots who had settled the western islands and coastland of the Scottish mainland, the kingdom of Dalriada; and it is likely that this king gave Iona to Columba. This little island was well suited as a base of operation, with the Picts to the north and east, the British kingdom of Strathclyde to the south, and the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Northumbria just beyond that. Eventually, all four nations would be represented by members of Columba’s monastic community.

By AD 574, Iona was a thriving center of learning, art, and mission work. As the monks began to travel, broadly proclaiming God’s Word, they established daughter houses on other islands and on the Scottish mainland. Like the work of St. Patrick before Columba, and St. Boniface after him, these monastic communities were little lights glowing in the darkness of the early Middle Ages. With the power of Rome all but vanished, and with frequent warfare among the remaining small kingdoms and barbarian tribes, the monasteries of western Europe kept the fires of the Gospel and western civilization burning bright.

Columba is especially remembered today as the missionary of Scotland (although the nation of Scotland did not exist at that time, as you can see from the map and description above). The Scots of Dalriada may have been partly Christianized, and the Britons of Strathclyde were most likely Christian, but the Picts were left as a major power still under the yoke of their old pagan gods. Columba and his fellow monks made several journeys into the northern highlands, and his biographer gives a few accounts of Columba confronting the Pictish King Bridei and his pagan wizards at their stronghold near Loch Ness (near modern Inverness). The most exciting of these stories even includes an appearance of the Loch Ness monster!

Once, on another occasion, when the blessed man stayed for some days in the land of the Picts, he had to cross the River Ness. When he reached its bank, he saw some of the local people burying a poor fellow. They said they had seen a water beast snatch him and maul him savagely as he was swimming not long before. Although some men had put out in a little boat to rescue him, they were too late, but, reaching out with hooks, they had hauled in his wretched corpse.
The blessed man, having been told all this, astonished them by sending one of his companions to swim across the river and sail back to him in a dinghy that was on the further bank. At the command of the holy and praiseworthy man, Luigne moccu Min obeyed without hesitation. He took off his clothes except for a tunic and dived into the water. But the beast was lying low on the riverbed, its appetite not so much sated as whetted for prey. It could sense that the water above was stirred by the swimmer, and suddenly swam up to the surface, rushing open-mouthed with a great roar towards the man as he was swimming midstream. All the bystanders, both the heathen and the brethren, froze in terror, but the blessed man looking on raised his holy hand and made the sign of the cross in the air, and invoking the name of God, he commanded the fierce beast, saying: ‘Go no further. Do not touch the man. Go back at once.’
At the sound of the saint’s voice, the beast fled in terror so fast one might have thought it was pulled back with ropes. But it had got so close to Luigne swimming that there was no more than the length of a pole between man and beast. The brethren were amazed to see that the beast had gone and that their fellow-soldier Luigne returned to them untouched and safe in the dinghy, and they glorified God in the blessed man. Even the heathen natives who were present at the time were so moved by the greatness of the miracle they had witnessed that they too magnified the God of the Christians. (Adomnan, Life II:27)

Of course, many modern readers will dismiss this story as fanciful. And many modern scholars even cast doubt on Columba’s direct involvement with the missionary work. But when the Venerable Bede (c. AD 672–735) wrote his history of the English Church, he was informed by the Picts that St. Columba had always been credited with the conversion of their people.

Besides serving as mother church for Scotland and sending out missionaries, Iona also became known for the work of her scribes and their stunning illuminated manuscripts. Columba himself was known as an accomplished scribe, poet, and musician, and so he influenced the monastery of later generations. The famous Book of Kells was created on Iona around AD 800, and only later was taken to Kells, Ireland, when Iona was pillaged by the Vikings. The hymn attributed to St. Columba is another fine example of the faith that was alive in this place: “Christ is the World’s Redeemer” (LSB 539). This hymn proclaims a sure and certain Gospel on account of the death and resurrection of Christ, a confidence for the church in her warfare on earth, and a rich confession of the Holy Trinity. It clearly stands in the rich tradition of St. Patrick’s Breastplate.

The legacy of Columba and Iona came to influence not only the churches of Ireland and Scotland but England as well. Less than thirty years after Columba’s death, the Anglo-Saxon king of Northumbria, Oswald, was deposed, exiled, and lived for a time on Iona where he was baptized. Then, when he was able to claim the throne in AD 634, Oswald asked Iona to send his kingdom a bishop and so bring Christianity to northern England. St. Aidan came, established the important monastery of Lindisfarne, and so Christianity and civilization continued to spread among the English people. Prior to this, Roman/European Christianity was slowly making inroads among the Saxons of Kent and Wessex in the south, but the work of King Oswald and St. Aidan of Iona began a blending of Celtic and Roman Christianity, eventually producing a great heritage for the English Church.

St. Columba has become a very influential figure in the growth and shaping of the church in the British Isles, and so he is a father in the faith for all English-speaking Christians. His biography is a well-written account, from the pen of St. Adomnan (c. AD 627-704), ninth abbot of Iona in the succession from Columba. While many of the stories of miracles and prophecies seem hard to believe for modern people, it’s worth reading for any Christian interested in the life of the church in western Europe during the difficult times of the early Middle Ages. But perhaps, the conclusion of the Life is most enjoyable as it gives a beautiful depiction of the faith of this island monastery and her founder. In the last year of his life (AD 597), St. Columba seemed to know his last hour was close at hand and mentioned it many times to the brothers. He did so again on the last day of his life and Diarmait, his servant, responded,

‘Father, this year you make us sad too often as you speak frequently about your passing.’ The saint answered him: ‘I can tell you more plainly a little secret about my going away if you will promise faithfully not to tell anyone till I am dead.’ When the servant had given his promise on bended knees, as the saint desired, the venerable man went on to tell him: ‘Scripture calls this day [Saturday] the Sabbath, which means “rest”. Today is truly my sabbath, for it is my last day in this wearisome life, when I shall keep the Sabbath after my troublesome labours. At midnight this Sunday, as Scripture saith, “I shall go the way of my fathers.” For now my Lord Jesus Christ deigns to invite me, and I shall go to him when he calls me in the middle of this night. The Lord himself has revealed this to me.’
[Later that day, on the little rocky knoll next to the monastery church, Columba] sat in his hut writing out a copy of the psalms. As he reached that verse of the thirty-fourth psalm where it is written, “They that seek the Lord shall not want for anything that is good,’ he said: ‘Here at the end of the page I must stop. Let Baithene write what follows.’ The last verse he wrote was very appropriate for our holy predecessor, who will never lack the good things of eternal life. The verse that follows is, ‘Come, my sons, hear me; I shall teach you the fear of the Lord.’ This is appropriate for Baithene his successor, a father and teacher of spiritual sons, who, as his predecessor enjoined, followed him not only as a teacher but also as a scribe.
When the saint had finished his verse at the bottom of the page, he went to the church for vespers on the night before Sunday. As soon as it was over, he returned to his lodgings and rested on his bed… There he gave his last commands to the brethren, with only his servant to hear: ‘I commend to you, my little children, these my last words: Love one another unfeignedly. Peace. If you keep this course according to the example of the holy fathers, God, who strengthens the good, will help you, and I dwelling with him shall intercede for you. He will supply not only enough for the needs of this present life, but also the eternal good things that are prepared as a reward for those who keep the Lord’s commandments.’…
Now the saint was silent as his happy final hour drew near. Then, as the bell rang out for the midnight office, he rose in haste and went to the church, running in ahead of the others and knelt alone in prayer before the altar… The lamps of the brethren had not yet been brought, but [Diarmait, his servant,] feeling his way in the dark he found the saint lying before the altar. Raising him up a little and sitting down at his side, he cradled the holy head on his bosom.
Meanwhile the monks and their lamps had gathered and they began to lament at the sight of their father dying. Some of those who were present have related how, before his soul left him, the saint opened his eyes and looked about him with a wonderful joy and gladness in his face, for he could see the angels coming to meet him. Diarmait held up the saint’s right hand to bless the choir of monks. The venerable father himself, insofar as he had the strength, moved his hand at the same time so that by that movement he should be seen to bless the brethren, though in the moment of his soul’s passing he could not speak. Then at once he gave up the ghost…
After the departure of the saint’s soul, the morning hymns were sung, and his sacred body was carried from the church to his lodging, from where a little before he had walked out alive, to the sweet sound of the brethren’s chanting. For three days and nights the funeral rituals befitting one of his honour and status were carried out. These were concluded with the sweet praises of God, and the venerable body of our holy and blessed patron was wrapped in pure linen and was buried in the chosen grave with all due reverence, from where he will arise in bright, everlasting light…
This then was the end of our praiseworthy patron’s life and the beginning of his rewards. In the language of the Scriptures he is added to the fathers as a partaker in eternal triumphs, he is joined with the apostles and prophets, he is enrolled in the number of the thousands of white-robed saints who wash their garments in the blood of the Lamb, he is one of the company that follows the Lamb, a virgin without stain, pure and whole without fault, through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ himself, to whom with the Father be all honour and power and praise and glory and everlasting kingdom in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen. (Adomnan, Life III:23).

Sources

Adomnan of Iona. Life of St. Columba. Translated by Richard Sharpe. Penguin Books, 1991.

Delaney, John J. Dictionary of Saints. Doubleday, 1980.

Iona: Abbey & Nunnery. Historic Scotland Official Souvenir Guide.