Reflections

Pilgrimages in mediaeval times were encouraged by the church and many ordinary people took to the countryside to walk from one holy site to another, staying in inns and abbeys along the routes. They were often very unprepared, without suitable clothing or shoes, or even had good health to start with. But this was the religious holiday of the time. People would hear sermons, speak with all kinds of tradespeople, artisans, paupers and intellectuals. They would learn about healing herbs, poultices, how to mend broken bones, how to heal fever and exhaustion, as well as learning about veterinary care of the animals along many of the drovers routes that ran alongside the pilgrims way.  

I was born in a place of mediaeval pilgrimage. Each day as a young child I walked twice through the ancient churchyard. To me it was not spooky but more romantic as my mother said that people were remembered for hundreds of years because they were good people buried there. My father said my relatives, with my surname, had their tomb stones on the floor of the ancient church of St Mary. The area was an early compass, as pilgrims would go from one site to another; listening for church bells and watching for church towers and spires. Weather vanes also provided useful advice when setting out. 

I had a great interest in this, given to me by my father as we had a tree in our garden that was one of the original trees from a line that provided an early clock and seasonal reference. He was also interested in healing and I inherited his interest. Many royalty came to our local ancient church with the pilgrims, and I imagined the colourful retinue of lords and ladies riding through the streets where I played. 

I was interested in the Knights of St John, known as the Hospitallers who built a major hospital in Jerusalem, the farthest of journeys, of 1,000 miles to the place where Jesus lived and died. The Templars (Poor Fellow Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon) were responsible for getting pilgrims safely there, but on arrival, many were too ill to make the arduous return journey. I didn’t realise that the Templars were also good doctors and vets, caring for the pilgrims health, their precious horses, dogs, sheep and other animals on route. These monks had taken orders of poverty, chastity and obedience, and were also fighting men, a rare combination. Jerusalem was not only the most prestigious and desired Christian shine, but also a Muslim holy place, and both battled to own and retain this mutual holy land. Such horrendous man to man combat took place under heavy metal armour in the most severe heat. One cannot imagine what they suffered, and what the enemy also suffered, as the Christians were far from their homeland and in Arab territory. So many people of all beliefs suffered unto death or were severely disabled, Templars were sworn to never retreat from battle. It was a terrifying life, with constant practice and training for the big fighting events, mass each morning and prayer eight times each day, added to the care of pilgrims health and safety and the security of their finances. Theirs was the greatest of sacrifice as they were only initiated if they passed the most rigid criteria. They were the elite of all the Roman Catholic Orders, the highest ranking and made the greatest sacrifice to fight to keep the greatest place on Earth for the Christian faith for which they lived each day and were prepared to fight to the death. 

So today is a Friday and the date is 13th, and many who are interested in history and especially religious history remember the 1304 date when the Templars were arrested, imprisoned, accused of all kinds of heresy, blasphemy and sins against the church and their vows, and were tortured to confess. The king of France Philip the Fair owed them money and had installed a puppet pope in France to support the dissolution of the Templar Order. The date was probably chosen, Friday being named after the goddess Venus and 13, the number of the moon and womanhood. So the 70 year old Sir James of Molay, who had travelled many months to Paris with a large financial offering for the king, and was the previous week a pallbearer at a royal funeral, was arrested and confessed under torture. All sins were forgiven under confession and he was granted absolution. But his conscience was not clear. He had lied that his great Order and its brave and dedicated knights were guilty of such sins, and that he himself could not meet his maker knowing he had lied about desecrating the implement of torture that god had been crucified upon. So he withdrew his confession, knowing that he would be slowly cooked on a fire by the Inquisition. The Church of Our Lady on the Seine in Paris was the place of his execution by fire, alongside his most faithful colleague, Geoffrey de Charney. They went to their excruciatingly painful deaths with a clear conscience. I pray for the suffering in retrospect and think of them this day.