Please note that due to software, not everything in this transcript will be accurate.

On Hildegard

Reading

“If a person eats nutmeg, it will open up their heart, make their judgement free from obstruction, and give them a good disposition.” 

“Take some nutmeg and an equal weight of cinnamon and a bit of cloves and pulverise them. Then make small cakes with this, and flour and water.” 

“Eat them often, and they will calm the bitterness of heart and mind; your hearing and senses will open. Your mind will be joyous, your senses purified and harmful humours will diminish.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

That is a recipe for what has become known as ‘Cookies of Joy’, found in a 12th-century medical treatise written by a German nun, Hildegard of Bingen. In that same treatise – called Physica – Hildegard proposed to treat a weak heart with a daily teaspoon of boiled parsley, honey, and wine. Hildegard’s two books about the natural world – Physica and the Causae et Curae (Causes and Cures) were written in the 12th century, several hundred years before the scientific revolution. In them, she catalogued hundreds and hundreds of plants, stones, animals, and metals, outlining their therapeutic uses to treat a huge list of ailments.  Don’t be fooled by the cute cookie intro either. Hildegard’s encyclopedias were some of the earliest works of natural history and biology. She explored the origin of disease, human psychology, and sexuality. This wasn’t woo-woo stuff. It was grounded, early medicine. And while her cookie recipe might not have taken off, she did make an amazing contribution to the world of food and drink: in Physica, she gives us the first written account of using hops as a preservative in beer! Specifically, she writes that adding hops “prevents the putrefaction of beverages, so that they last longer”. However, she also warns that the hoppier the beer, the more it “increases melancholy” – so I’m not convinced she would buy into the craft beer craze that’s taken hold in some parts of the world. (By the way, if a nun writing about how to brew beer seems strange, we’ve got a whole episode on the history of the church and alcohol – episode 144 ‘Into Wine’. Link in the show notes). All of this may sound weird, but it’s certainly not the weirdest thing about Hildegard. Nor was Physica anywhere close to her only work. As one of her biographers, Fiona Maddocks, has written, to fully get to grips with Hildegard’s output you would have to become a specialist in “12th-century Germany, medieval Latin, ecclesiastical history, the history of science and medicine, botany, mineralogy and petrology, zoology and theology, mysticism, music, painting and monastic architecture”. This is a woman who led an abbey, advised royalty, chastised priests and popes. The Western Church made her a Saint, and more than that, a ‘Doctor of the Church’ – one of only 38 people recognised for their profound and lasting impact on Christian teaching – that’s what ‘doctor’ used to mean, by the way, an expert ‘teacher.’ She took her place on that list in 2012, 833 years after her death, now listed with the likes of Augustine of Hippo, Gregory the Great, and the Venerable Bede. Those guys have all had episodes of their own on Undeceptions. Now, it’s Hildegard’s turn. And it’s about time. I’m John Dickson, and this is Undeceptions. 

Media – John arriving at Hildegard’s abbey

John Dickson (Studio)

Just last month, on my way home from speaking at a conference, I took a day to drive from Frankfurt airport to the town of Bingen, the historic home of Hildegard of Bingen. I’ve been wanting to make the trip for a really long time, and had to fight Producer Kaley for the honour. I visited her final resting place – the Church of St Hildegard, where you can find her bones. And then I headed up the hill to the modern Abbey of St Hildegard, a working Benedictine monastery, where I met Sister Lydia who took me on a tour of the grounds – and some wine tasting (listen to the end for that). You’ll meet Lydia in a moment. First, though, who is Hildegard? 

Margot Fassler:
Well, she was born in 1098 and died in 1179, so she had a long life. And, um, she was a daughter of, uh, of local, uh, minor nobility. And, uh, started, she says, in the autobiographical portions of her vita or life story, that she had visions at a very, uh, young age. And she was a sickly child, and, um, was sent with the local Count of Sponheim, with his daughter Jutta, uh, to be instructed by a pious widow. And so she had learning right from the start, rudimentary knowledge of Latin, of music, of the, of the liberal arts curriculum that a child would get. 

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s Margot Fassler, Emeritus Professor of Music History and Liturgy at the University of Notre Dame and a world-renowned expert on Hildegard von Bingen. As a child – about age 8 – Hildegard was given to the church as an oblate – a type of offering to God. It was a fairly established practice – the Venerable Bede, a medieval Monk known as the “father of English History’ – was also an oblate. He entered a monastery at 7 years old. The young Hildegard became friends with another girl named Jutta, who ended up having a massive influence on Hildegard.

Margot Fassler:
And, uh, when she, um, was a little bit older, um, Jutta, the daugh- the count’s daughter, had become her… was her playmate, and then became her, her mentor. And, uh, Jutta wanted to go to, on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and her brother persuaded her instead to, to set up a, a, a kind of, um, monastic enclosure for herself and some other, some other, uh, young women, and Hildegard was one of them. So Jutta was a mystic, and she set up, um, a women’s cell in a newly founded Benedictine monastery at the Disibodenberg, which is about, I don’t know, 20 kilometers, um, from Bingen, and it was wildly successful.

John Dickson (Studio)

You might have noticed Margot say that Jutta set up a “women’s cell”. That’s because Jutta didn’t just enter a monastery. She became an anchoress, enclosed in a small cell. An anchorite – or an anchoress if you were female – generally does not leave her cell after she takes her vows. They were allowed visitors – and they often had loads of visitors looking for spiritual and moral advice. But physically, this was a very restricted existence. The ‘taking of the veil’ ceremony to become an anchoress followed a similar format to a funeral. You were now dead to the world.

Margot Fassler:
She was incredibly pious and gained a real reputation, um, for her piety and for her knowledge. And so people would come from all around to, uh, speak through the grill to her to get advice, et cetera. And, uh, so the monastery was added to by more a- and, and more women. And, um, she was, uh, very strict in her ways of life. She fasted herself almost to death, and, uh, she died at a young age. And when she died, Hildegard was elected in her, in her stead to be the head of that community.

John Dickson (Studio)

Hildegard had spent decades at Disibodenberg with Jutta. And then everything changed. 

Reading

‘And behold! In the 43rd year of my earthly course, as I was gazing with great fear and trembling attention at a heavenly vision, I saw a great splendour in which resounded a voice from Heaven saying to me, ‘O fragile human, ashes of ashes, and filth of filth! Say and write what you see and hear.’

John Dickson (Studio)

Hildegard had begun to have ‘visions’ from about 3 years old. But she was too afraid to speak of them, fearing scepticism, ridicule, and condemnation. But after Jutta’s death, and taking over the leadership of a growing women’s community attached to the monastery at Disibodenburg, Hildegard begins to write her visions down. She begins to speak. And people start to listen. 

Margot Fassler:
In around 1150, Hildegard became, uh, desirous of leaving that female community that was attached to a male community. She wanted to strike out on her own. And so she did so, and she formed a community in Bingen, up on the, up on the hill, high hill, and received endowments and took some endowments with her, and it was a huge time of struggle, the late 1140s and around 1150, because the monks did not want to let her go. She had already become some-something of a, of a famous person, and she had already started doing some writing. So, uh, it was a struggle. And some of the nuns didn’t wanna go. They didn’t wanna leave a, a nice, comfortable place, strike out, build something new, but off they went. And so she founded this monastery with endowments, and she got more and more endowments as time went on, and she built a glorious. She designed herself. One of the many things that she did was to, to do architecture, design, design a, a place for a women’s community. She had running water. She had a room for embroidery. She had a room for copying manuscripts. And, of course, it became wildly successful, and many, and many people came. 

John Dickson (Studio)

After the break, Hildegard von Bingen goes to Bingen. And so do I. 

Break

Media – John meeting Sister Lydia

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s Sister Lydia Stritl of the Abbey of St Hildegard, who is generously taking me on a tour of the modern-day Abbey and grounds. The day I visited was a spectacularly clear, sunny day. 

Media – John exploring the abbey vineyard

John Dickson (Studio)

Listener, I did not leave without getting some wine – and I can confirm that the legacy of nuns producing quality beverages lives on!

John Dickson:
Can I ask you first- Uh- … what led you to become, uh, a sister, and a sister at this abbey in particular?

Sister Lydia:
When I entered here, I did not know anything about Hildegard of Bingen. My baptized name is Hildegard, you know? No.

John Dickson:
Yeah. Um, so your name was Hildegard. Yeah. You didn’t know anything about Hildegard. No. But you’ve ended up at Hildegard’s abbey. Yeah, but we- Tell me how … 

Sister Lydia:
We are Benedictine nuns here. And not an order of Saint Hildegard. Mm-hmm. You have to know. And I was, uh, very interested, and, um, yeah, more than interested in Benedictine life. 

John Dickson (Studio)

The order of Saint Benedict is the oldest monastic order of the Western Church, founded in the middle of the 6th century AD by Benedict of Nursia — who deserves an episode of his own. The life of a Benedictine, whether monk or nun, is dedicated to prayer, study, and work, as outlined in the ‘Rule of Saint Benedict’, an amazing ancient work. We’ll link to it in the show notes. 

John Dickson:
Can you tell me about, um, daily life here?

Sister Lydia:
We start at 6:00 with the lauds. Mm-hmm. That’s the first prayer. Our prayers are in Latin. Yes. And at 8:00, we have Holy Mass. Mm-hmm. And between that, between lauds and Holy Mass, we have the time, um, of spiritual reading, the Bible, the Rule of Saint Benedict, and other literature. And after Holy Mass, we have time for work, in the shop or in the garden, the vineyards. And at 12 o’clock we have a prayer, as it will be later on. After that we have our meal, and then, um, short time of rest, and then again, a time for working because we have to earn our money for ourselves which is, um, in the rule of St. Benedict. And, uh, 5:30 we have vespers, and after that dinner, and then we meet for half an hour or three-quarters of an hour and talk about theology, sports, holidays of a sister or whatever. And at, uh, 7:30 in the evening we have compline and vigils. Mm-hmm. And then it’s finished. Okay.

John Dickson (Studio)

More than 800 years ago, Hildegard’s day would have followed a very similar rhythm—except she had to build in management time and preaching tours!! The daily routine, ordered by the Rule of St Benedict, envisages a balanced day of about 7-8 hours of sleep, 3–4 hours of prayer, 2–3 hours of sacred reading, and around 6 hours of manual labour, depending on harvests and so on. Meals were to be adequate for health. Benedict wasn’t into punishing the body. The wine allowance was moderate by ancient standards, though pretty generous by ours: he said, no more than about 300 mL a day—that’s half a pint, or about two standard glasses of wine. Mind you, Benedict added in his Rule that those who choose not to drink “will receive a special reward.” Women who entered the monastic life in the 12th century had more opportunities than most of their sex to study. Universities were only just coming into existence, and monasteries were still very much the key places of learning. 

Margot Fassler:
And during this time of moving, moving a community, all this struggle, all this terrific time for her life, she also wrote her first major theological treatise called Scivias, which is short for know the ways of the Lord.

John Dickson:
What’s the book about?

Margot Fassler:
The book, uh, begins with, uh, her portrait, and it talks about, uh, her visions and how she was told to write this book and how it’s a, it’s a prophetic work. And so at the beginning, it, uh, it talks about the various kinds of people who are in the church: monks, nuns, who they are, defines them, explains who they are. And the second book is kind of a liturgical commentary, and there’s a chapter of it which is, uh, dedicated to, to the Eucharist. There’s a chapter for baptism. There’s a chapter for the sacraments. And she talks about the ways in which, especially, I think, women’s communities relate to the sacraments. And then the third book, it’s a three-book work, is a long pilgrimage through, uh, this, this, um, world that she designs for pilgrims to go through. And there are stations, and each one is inhabited by virtues, particular virtues that you need in your life to proceed along the path of life.

Sister Lydia:
She lived a very intensive relationship with God. And in the first book she wrote, the Libus Vivias, Know the Ways in, in English. Um, in the beginning, she describes a mystic, um mystic meeting with God in her heart. And this is what, um, is characteristic for her life since she was a child. It started with five years. But, um, in, uh, with, um, 43 she, um, first, or she started, um, to, to make her visions public because God told her. Not before. She kept it in silence with, in, with her in her heart. 

Reading

I saw all this and then – I refused to write. Not out of stubbornness, but out of a sense of my inability, for fear of the scepticism of others, the shrugging of shoulders, and the manifold gossip of mankind until God’s scourge threw me on the bed of illness. There, finally, overcome by much suffering, I set my hand to write.

Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, ‘Declaration’

John Dickson (Studio)

Scivias, or ‘Know the Way’, is Hildegard’s best-known work. In it, she recounts 26 visions—and the text was illuminated by an unknown hand, though most scholars think Hildegard would have had something to do with them. The visions are a three-part account of Creation, Redemption, and Salvation. The visions are apocalyptic, astronomical and cosmological. They can be bewildering to read. Here’s a bit of her famous vision of the Cosmic Egg, a kind of mapping of the universe, with the earth at the centre, the sun, moon and stars revolving around it, and a struggle between good and evil. 

Reading

After this I saw a vast instrument, round and shadowed, in the shape of an egg, small at the top, large in the middle and narrowed at the bottom; outside it, surrounding its circumference, there was bright fire with, as it were, a shadowy zone under it. And in that fire there was a globe of sparkling flame so great that the whole instrument was illuminated by it, over which three little torches were arranged in such a way that by their fire they held up the globe lest it fall…” 

John Dickson (Studio)

These days, when we talk about visions, our minds go straight to cults or Eastern religion. Or we might think of the Middle Ages in the sense of the stereotypical so-called Dark Ages – those silly, superstitious medieval folk who just didn’t know any better. Actually, the great 20th-century neurologist Oliver Sacks attempted an explanation for Hildegard’s mystical visions, diagnosing her with migraines, which would explain the visual ‘auras’ she described. Other scholars try to explain the visions of a mystic as a result of fasting and delirium, of hysteria, or some drug-induced ecstasy.  Here’s how Hildegard described her visions: 

Reading

“I do not see with external eyes, and I do not hear it with my external ears; I do not perceive with thoughts of my heart nor by any medium of my five senses, but rather only in my soul, with open eyes, so that I never experience the unconsciousness of ecstasy, but, awake, I see this day and night.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

Honestly, I don’t know what to make of this kind of stuff. The Sydney Anglican in me instinctively rejects this stuff. But I also think there are more things in heaven and earth than my philosophy usually allows. Interestingly, people in Hildegard’s day were often sceptical. The pope himself scrutinised her visions. It was eventually concluded that she was some kind of prophetess—that’s what she’s typically called. And much of her writings are very biblical, and her pastoral letters are always calling people back to a simple and sincere Christian faith. She certainly didn’t promote a kind of Gnosticism or esotericism. Sister Lydia was pretty emphatic about Hildegard’s first loves! 

Sister Lydia:
The Bible is, um, the first book, or the most important book, for monks and nuns. Yes. And, uh, Saint Benedict says that, uh, the Bible is the original rule of the Rule of Saint Benedict when, um, the Saint Benedict wants to express very important things, he uses the words of the Bible- Mm-hmm … and not his own. Yes. And here in our church, you see Jesus Christ is in the middle of our life, and this is also here with the paintings. Mm. And this is very important for Hildegard. Mm. Yeah.

John Dickson:
Tell me how.

Sister Lydia
Because in our Rule of St. Benedict, we find, um, the sentences, uh, “Do not prefer anything to Jesus Christ” Mm-hmm … or “Do not put anything higher than Jesus Christ.” Yeah. Okay. This is the center of our life- Mm-hmm … and also Hildegard’s life. Yes. Yeah. And this is why she could tell people what is wrong in her century- Mm-hmm and why people, um, still understand what she wants to tell us now. Mm. It’s the same.

John Dickson (Studio)

As word spread of Hildegard’s visions, her popularity grew. News reached the Archbishop of Mainz, who informed Pope Eugene III of a possible visionary (or heretic) in the region. Papal envoys were sent to size up Hildegard and determine the authenticity of her visions. The envoy was satisfied with what they saw, and brought back the half-finished Scivias to show the Pope. Around the same time, Hildegard wrote a letter to Bernard of Clairvaux – one of the most influential churchmen of his day. It was perhaps an attempt to get a higher authority to endorse her visions – she continued to be anxious about how they would be received. At the Synod of Trier, an important church meeting convened by the Pope in 1147, Hildegard’s visions came under Papal review. Bernard of Clairvaux – taking time out from encouraging the Crusades – was in attendance, and spoke in favour of Hildegard. Her work was sanctioned as authentic revelations from the Holy Spirit, and the Pope publicly encouraged Hildegard to continue her writing. The attention catapulted Hildegard to celebrity status. 

John Dickson:
But, but Hildegard, um, she didn’t just speak to her sisters. No, no. She spoke to the world. Yes. She did. Now, this is unusual. For a woman in Middle Ages? Yes. Yeah. Yeah. So talk to me about that. Um- My listeners will be fascinated

Sister Lydia:
She also left, she left also the monastery, which is, um- Hmm not normal for Benedictine nuns. Nowadays it’s more normal, but at that time. And this- Oh,

John Dickson:
Once you go in, you’re meant to stay in, are you?

Sister Lydia
Yes, this is in the Rule of St. Benedict- Mm-hmm … that you stay in the monastery the whole of your life when you have the final vows. Yeah. Yeah. Wow. Yeah. Okay, but she went traveling. Yes, to Mainz, Bamberg, Cologne, Colonia, and so on.

John Dickson:
And we know she spoke in public.

Sister Lydia:
Yes, she does. And, and in church. Yes, she did. And this is, um, um- Because, um, God tells her what to say to the people. Mm. And she does it not, um, because she wanted to do it- Mm-hmm … but because God tells her. Mm-hmm. And also the letters she wrote to bishops and other monasteries and so on, this is the same. This is the center in her heart. Mm. This is the place where the relationship of God is in you. Mm. And, uh, this is the center from which she acted. Yeah. Yeah. And people obviously recognized that in her. Yes. Yeah. You recognize, um, that someone is talking just because he or she wants to talk, yeah? Mm. And says something. Mm. But, uh, this is also the case with the Pope. You know that he, He does not, uh, fight for himself. Mm. He fights for people, for peace in the world. Yeah. Yeah.

John Dickson:
I noticed some of the images of her, they say prophetess. Yeah.  Prophetess. That’s still up there. So is- And we have it also … is that how we think of her? She was like a prophet?

Sister Lydia:
A prophet does not, uh, tell people what he wants to tell them- Mm-hmm … but what God tells him to tell the people. Yeah. It’s Elijah in the Bible, yeah. Yeah. He went for God. Yeah. Yeah. And this is- Ah … the picture I like most of Saint Hildegard. Yes, and there she is. Yes. Prophetissa. Ta-da. Saint Hildegard is Prophetissa.  How about that? 

John Dickson (Studio)

By the way, prophet or prophetess in the medieval world didn’t mean a fortune-teller. Hildegard wasn’t into predicting things. She was more a preacher. The medieval church didn’t accept female preachers under the normal rubric of deacon and priest, but they did make exceptions for preachers they believed God had raised up to deliver a special message for their times. And they thought it was biblical. They knew God raised up female rulers of ancient Israel like Debra in the book of Judges. They knew about female prophetesses like Huldah in the OT and the daughters of Philip in the New Testament. So the medieval Church just rolled with the exceptions, like Hildegard, without feeling like they were going against divine church order. 

Sister Lydia:
People called her, um, in her lifetime, pro- a German prophet. And here we have the sign of the feather. Mm-hmm. That she wrote books, because at that time, uh, you, you wrote on wax or parchment. Mm-hmm. And with a feather. Mm. And this white thing, um, is also a sign that she wrote books. And here the Spiritus Sanctus Splendoribus Illustrata vias Domini. This means that the Holy Spirit told Hildegard or showed Hildegard- Mm … the ways- Mm … enlightened by God. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

John Dickson:
So when she corrected- bishops and clergy what was she rebuking them about? What were their problems that she saw?

Sister Lydia:
That, um, that they did not, um, live an intensive relationship to God as they should- Mm … and had many luxury things. Mm. So in the 12th- Yeah, money and all these things … in the 12th century they’re- Yes … they’re having luxuries. Yes, yes. Mm. Yeah, that’s all possible. Yeah. It’s through the centuries you find that.

John Dickson (Studio)

In addition to public preaching, Hildegard challenged people in authority through her letters. Nearly 400 have survived, so there is much to study. These were not the stuff of pen pals. A letter was an event. It was hugely expensive to produce, often on parchment or vellum—different grades of prepared animal skin. When you received a letter from Hildegard, you knew to take it seriously. With the help of her monk scribe and confidant, Volmar, she corresponded with nobility, royalty, and church officials, often asking for her spiritual advice. 

John Dickson:
Tell me more about her letters, if you would. Uh, what were the sorts of things she was most concerned about, and how were those messages received? Yeah, her letters.

Margot Fassler:
Part of Volmar’s work was to help Hildegard with her program of religious reform. She wanted to change the church. She wanted to make it strong. She wanted to give women, religious women, a strong place in it. And she, uh, he… Her letters were, uh, collected by him, and I think that she and he added to them greatly, so that the final copies, some of them may very well have been written by Volmar, may wa- very well have, have been forged, forgeries of some sort. Um, but what they do tell us is what Hildegard and Volmar’s view of religious life was, and how they wished it to be lived, and how they wished their program of religious reform to go out into the world.

John Dickson:
What do they want to reform?

Margot Fassler:
They wanted, uh, they wanted the clergy to be learned, to not take bribes, to be chaste, um, to live honorable lives.

John Dickson:
Imagine that.

Margot Fassler:
And to know what they were doing. You know, when you do a sacrament, do you understand what you’re doing? Well, she wanted to be sure that they did. So her, her reformer- reforming mentality is something that’s quite, uh, quite typical for, for the 12th century in the, in the wake of what’s called the Gregorian Reform. So I think it’s very important to see her as a religious reformer with an agenda in her, in her writings, in her letters, in her compositions, in everything that she does. And not to forget that she ha- so that she, she lives with this clash between good and evil, and she thinks that learning to praise God with the right heart, full voice, is a crucial part of every Christian’s life

John Dickson (Studio)

Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine – one of the most powerful women in 12th-century Europe, the Queen of France and later the Queen of England wrote to Hildegard asking for help. Only Hildegard’s response has survived, where she warns of a restlessness that is clouding the Queen’s judgement. 

Reading

“Your mind is like a wall which is covered with clouds, and God will help you in all your tribulations.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

To Eleanor’s husband, King Henry II of England, Hildegard sent warnings after Henry fell out with the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket. Hildegard warns against deviating from justice. 

Reading

When a certain man holds a high office over other men, the Lord commands him:

“Yours are the gifts of giving; it is by ruling and defending, protecting and providing, that you may reach Heaven.”

But then a bird, black as pitch, will come to you from the North, and it will say:

“You can do whatever you want; so do this and do that; make this excuse and that excuse, for it does not profit you to have regard to Justice; for if you always consult Justice, you are not the master, rather you are reduced to mere slavery.”

It is imperative that you not listen to the Thief who so counsels you…

Dear Son of God, you must flee this environment and call on your Father with all your might, as He gladly reaches out His hand to help you.

John Dickson (Studio)

In 1153, Hildegard wrote to King Frederick Barbarossa:

Reading

“O king, it is imperative for you to have foresight in all your affairs. For in a mystic vision I see you like a little boy or some madman living before Living Eyes.”

John Dickson (Studio)

Frederick also began promoting rival popes, and Hildegard again wrote to him, warning in what she believed to be the voice of God that “my sword will pierce you” if he continued to interfere with the affairs of the Church. That’s gutsy! And she even accused Pope Anastasius IV – who was in his eighties when he was elected – of being too old to deal with corruption, allowing arrogance and injustice to thrive in his church.

Reading

“You O man, who are too tired…to rein in the pomposity of arrogance among those placed in your bosom, why do you not call back the shipwrecked who cannot rise from the depths without help? … Why do you put up with depraved people who are blinded by foolishness and who delight in harmful things, like a hen which cackles in the night and terrifies herself. Such people are completely useless.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

Here is a medieval woman consulting with men in high office, unafraid to scold and admonish and call them back to a more simple version of Christianity. 

Margot Fassler:
Let me tell you about her letter to the prelates of Mainz. Do you know it?

John Dickson:
Nope

Margot Fassler:
Okay. She, she wrote it in the last year of her life, and the situation is interesting because she buried someone on the grounds of her monastery that the church started to claim had been excommunicated, and so they said, “You have to dig him up and take him out and put him away.” And she said, “Wait a minute, he was never excommunicated.” So they… So the prelates of Mainz, uh, put her under interdict. They excommunicate her and her community, which means that they can no longer sing the office.

John Dickson (Studio)

Not being able to ‘sing the office’ basically means not being permitted to run an authorised Christian service. It would have made all of the psalm singing, readings, and prayers of Hildegard’s community 

Margot Fassler:
And so she fights back in a very feisty way, and she says, “You cannot remove our voices. They are God-given, and it is our responsibility to sing the praise to God. And if you remove our singing, you are in league with the devil.” It’s an amazing letter. It’s like over the top Feist. And, and ultimately she was right.

Reading

Therefore, you and all prelates must exercise the greatest vigilance to clear the air by full and thorough discussion of the justification for such actions before your verdict closes the mouth of any church singing praises to God or suspends it from handling or receiving the divine sacraments. 

And you must be especially certain that you are drawn to this action out of zeal for God’s justice, rather than out of indignation, unjust emotions, or a desire for revenge, and you must always be on your guard not to be circumvented in your decisions by Satan, who drove man from celestial harmony and the delights of paradise. [….] 

Therefore, those who, without just cause, impose silence on a church and prohibit the singing of God’s praises and those who have on earth unjustly despoiled God of His honor and glory will lose their place among the chorus of angels, unless they have amended their lives through true penitence and humble restitution.

John Dickson (Studio)

As it turns out, Hildegard was vindicated, and the privileges of celebrating the divine offices in song were restored, just six months before Hildegard died. 

John Dickson:
I just have one question about her preaching. I’ve read in several, uh, scholarly accounts of her life that she was welcomed into the pulpit. Like, she would go along the Rhineland to churches and, well, preach. Now, that would mess with a lot of people’s impression, well, first of the church, and second of the medieval world in particular.

Margot Fassler:
Yeah, but remember, the whole doctrine of enclosure for women’s communities hasn’t happened yet. The 12th century is a different, it’s a different period of time. And, uh, yes, it’s unusual, but it couldn’t have happened, uh, in the, in the 13th and 14th and 15th century because the, the, the mandatory enclosure of women’s communities hadn’t happened yet. Hadn’t happened in the 12th century.

John Dickson:
Okay, but she’s go- and she’s actually, she’s preaching. I mean, I can almost get my head around writing, but, uh, I don’t know. Uh, y- you, you seem to think it was almost normal, but,

Margot Fassler:
No, I’m not saying it was normal. I’m saying it was possible in the 12th century, whereas it wouldn’t have been in the 13th.

John Dickson (Studio)

We’ve tackled Hildegard as visionary, Hildegard as prophet. After the break, we meet Hildegard the wellness influencer … and, finally, Hildegard the composer.

Break 2

Reading

“Eating excessively fatty meats or blood-rich foods leads to infirmity, as their slippery moisture prevents proper digestion”

…

“But one whose face has hard and rough skin, made harsh from the wind, should cook barley in water and, having strained that water through a cloth, should bathe his face gently with the moderately warm water. The skin will become soft and smooth, and will have a beautiful color. If a person’s head has an ailment, it should be washed frequently in this water, and it will be healed.” 

…

“Spelt is the very best grain. It provided for good flesh and good blood as well as a cheerful disposition.

…

“Those who cough should take fennel and dill in equal parts, add one-third of a part of horehound and boil the herbs in wine, strain through a linen cloth, drink and the cough will disappear.”

…

“When deeply sad, eat sufficiently of suitable foods to be refreshed, as sadness weighs heavily.”

John Dickson (Studio)

They’re all tidbits from Hildegard von Bingen’s encyclopaedic study of the natural world – botany, zoology, stones, metals, and elements. In two enormous works – Physica and Causes and Cures, she painstakingly lists the physical properties of nearly 1000 plants and animals, and then outlines their medicinal purposes. It’s tempting to draw a line from Hildegard von Bingen’s natural remedies for medieval ailments to… Gwyneth Paltrow’s modern lifestyle website GOOP. Gwyneth Paltrow recommends a coffee enema as part of a detox program … and Hildegard recommended ‘Cookies of Joy’ to combat melancholy. I give you Hildegard, the wellness influencer! It might seem strange that Hildegard the mystic was so interested in herbs, minerals, and the natural world. But in her excellent biography of Hildegard, Fiona Maddocks asks: “Should we be surprised that one who showed such determination to communicate the secrets of the heavens should also want to reveal the workings of the earth?” Some in the modern New Age movement have adopted Hildegard as a kind of saint. But Hildegard was not a Gnostic. She believed creation reflected God’s love, that the earth was good. Indeed, she challenged those in her own day who taught that the spiritual was good and the earthly was bad. Her biblical theology – from creation to new creation – was better than that of many Bible readers today! Anyway, the point is this: just like the early empirical scientists four centuries later – Kepler, Galileo, Newton, and the gang – Hildegard believed that cataloguing and studying the natural world was an act of worship.

John Dickson:
Can you tell me more about her writings on plants and animals, and especially her theory of viriditas, uh, which some people tie into the modern wellness trend. Uh, but, but what’s that side of her about? I mean, you can understand someone like her writing about visions and theology, but she was also interested in this earth.

Margot Fassler:
Yeah, very much so. And I think that, uh, in many cases, monasteries were sort of, uh, infirmaries for, uh, for local people to come and, and, you know, they had herb gardens, and they practised a kind of folk medicine. So one of her treatises is, is a medical treatise, and it talks about how plants are used to treat various ills. And so it’s a wonderful example of, of the kind of local lore that you might have, make a poultice of mustard and plop it on your neck or, you know, what- whatever you need for a particular kind of healing. And then she has a much more elaborate scientific treatise, uh, which is cosmological in its, in its nature and is, is more theological rather than, than the, the kind of plants that you’re talking about.

John Dickson (Studio)

Let’s press pause. I’ve got a five-minute Jesus for you. More than once have I heard it argued that the world’s three great monotheistic faiths, Judaism, Islam and Christianity, invented their hope for a ‘paradise beyond’ as way of coping with the misery of their desert origins.  French atheist Michel Onfray loves this argument. Who wouldn’t fanaticise about heavenly bliss if all you had before you was the dreary wilderness of Sinai, the endless sands of Arabia and the wasteland of Galilee? I will leave it to Jews and Muslims to defend their own origins, but in the case of Christianity this line of reasoning is a laughable ecological blunder. Jesus was raised in one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited. You might have your own mental images of Jesus’ stomping ground, perhaps based on biblical tales of desert wanderings or the barren hills of Monty Python’s The Life of Brian. I am meant to be an expert in this stuff, and I was frankly amazed at what I saw when I first landed there. Far from being a desert, Galilee is a highly fertile region made up of rolling hills, stark mountains and a large valley leading down to the beautiful inland sea known as Lake Gennesareth or simply Lake Galilee (12km wide by 20km long). The lake has always provided plenty of fish for food and trade—I’ve enjoyed a fish feast by the shore myself, and, well, I’m not a fan, actually. Give me a Barramundi any day of the week. But my point is: Galilee was by far the richest and most populous area in the region.  The first-century Jewish writer Josephus was the military commander in charge of Galilee. He wrote:

Reading

For the land is everywhere so rich in soil and pasturage and produces such a variety of trees, that even the most indolent are tempted by these facilities to devote themselves to agriculture. In fact, every inch of the soil has been cultivated by the inhabitants; there is not a parcel of waste land. The towns, too, are thickly distributed, and even the villages, thanks to the fertility of the soil, are all so densely populated that the smallest of them contains above fifteen thousand inhabitants.

Josephus, Jewish War 3.42-43

John Dickson (Studio)

Scholars rightly question Josephus’ numbers there. Nazareth, for instance, where Jesus was raised, was a hamlet of probably fewer than a thousand people. But Josephus’ ecology is better than his demography, and modern geological studies have confirmed his statements about soil fertility. Aerial photography of the mountainous Upper Galilee (North of the Lake) indicates widespread terracing where intense vine and olive cultivation once took place. Down in Jesus’ Lower Galilee, a similar natural abundance is clear. Excavations of Nazareth itself reveal the presence of grape presses for wine and a field irrigation system that belies the romantic notion that Jesus grew up in a place of barrenness and poverty. A leading expert on Galilee, Prof. Sean Freyne of Trinity College Dublin, wrote:

Reading

The Nazareth farm project supports the idea that they were not just mere subsistence farmers, but like all colonisers in the Mediterranean as elsewhere, worked the land intensively, participated in the redistributive system and were able to support a relatively comfortable lifestyle. 

John Dickson (Studio)

I had the great privilege years ago of being shown around parts of Galilee by Prof. Freyne, who’s since passed away. As we looked over the first-century town of Gamla with the Eastern shore of the lake in the distance, I was struck by the rich green of the grass, the bright yellow of the flowers and the abundant bird life all around. We could have been in Kangaroo Valley, NSW. Hildegard would have described what I saw as ‘viriditas’—the greenness of God’s healthy creation, and the opposite of ‘ariditas’—the aridness, barrenness, of ill-health. Like Hildegard, Jesus grew up with a clear sense of the provisions of the Creator in a place of beauty and fertility. It’s no wonder that the land and its produce feature so often in Jesus’ teachings:

Reading

By their fruit you will recognise them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? (Matthew 7:16).

Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop—some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown (Mark 4:20).

The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.’ (Luke 12:16-17).

The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field (Matthew 13:24).

John Dickson (Studio)

The thesis that Christianity’s hope for ‘the kingdom of heaven’ was fuelled by its desert origins – and longing to get out of this world – is as false as it is facile. The first followers of Jesus, all of them Galileans like their leader, lived in a place brimming with the produce of the earth. And more than that, they lived with a worldview that was the opposite of that gnostic viewpoint, the opposite of Platonic reasoning, actually. They didn’t think we needed to escape this physical world to find spiritual and intellectual nourishment. They believed this world was the arena of God’s actions, that our bodies are the instruments of blessing, and that the earth and our bodies – despite their frailties and ailments – would one day be restored by the good creator, in the Kingdom of God. You can press play now. 

Sister Lydia:
God is the creator of the Earth, and He gives us the plants, the herbs, also the animals as a gift so that human beings can live. And, um, there is also this word of the viriditas the, um, power of the green, I would translate it in English, and this also always is in connection with God and not just only green and herbs. And these herbs are given us also for healing. And in the times of Hildegard, in the 12th century, we did not have hospitals and all these things as we have nowadays, so the people around the monasteries came to sisters and, uh, monks um, who are with the ill, uh, sisters and, and monks because they know how to use the herbs.

John Dickson:
Did they really work? It wasn’t just, hmm, hocus pocus?

Sister Lydia:
They, they knew it because they tested it also. Yeah, right. And they knew from further generations what to use when. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Yeah. And this is what she wrote down in her works, um, on plants and herbs. Mm. And this is still knowledge whi- which is okay, but, um, 900 years later, you should sometimes ask a doctor also. Because it’s, uh, there are more possibilities nowadays. Of course. Yeah. But– And also important is that the Monastery of Rupertsberg, um, lay, um, was near a road which was a European road of people, um, with, um, yeah, who wanted to sell their, um, things also in, in other parts of Europe. And so she met many people and asked for their knowledge, and so that’s why she knew as much as she wrote down in her works.

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s one of the incandescent melodies of Hildegard von Bingen, called O viridissima virga – ‘O Greenest Branch’. It’s a hymn dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Here are some of the words in English:  

Reading

O branch of freshest green, O hail! Within the windy gusts of saints upon a quest you swayed and sprouted forth.

When it was time, you blossomed in your boughs—“Hail, hail!” you heard, for in you seeped the sunlight’s warmth like balsam’s sweet perfume.

For in you bloomed so beautiful a flow’r, whose fragrance wakened all the spices from their dried-out stupor.

And they all appeared in full viridity.

John Dickson (Studio)

There’s that word again – viriditas, ‘greenness ’, ‘aliveness’. In any case, in a world that loved music, Hildegard was a master! 

John Dickson:
Where would you hear music in medieval Europe? Did they sing at the pub? At, at the dinner table? Uh, at the theater? I mean, obviously in church, but where would I hear music if I was transported back into 1140?

Margot Fassler:
Well, we don’t have very much m- uh, vernacular music written down, you know, because it’s a written practice. So most of the music that we do have, not all, ’cause y- this is the period of the troubadours in, the troubadours in Southern France. And so we’re s- we’re starting to have a, a big repertory for the first time of, of ven- music with vernacular text, love poetry. So it’s the period when that happens. You have, uh, who must have been a very great composer and would’ve been, would’ve been a peer of Hildegard compositionally, is Peter Abelard. And he, he, uh, he has this extraordinary body of hymns that he wrote for Eloise’s monastery, the Paraclete. But, um, you realise that in Christian Europe, in the Latin Middle Ages, the churches, there were many of them in every town, and they all had a, a community of, of, uh, of monks or friars, um, who, who would make music all day long, who would sing the hours of prayer. You know, the, the average medieval religious, male or female, sang, you know, five or six hours a day, and on a major feast, eight or nine. I mean, the whole purpose was to praise God. So, you know, that’s why a church exists. So of course it’s filled with music,  and it’s filled with, with the singing of the psalms.

John Dickson (Studio)

Margot and I got a bit carried away when we started to talk about Hildegard’s music. I’m still a wanna-be musician at heart!! There’s some extra chat about how we read musical notation from the 12th century, and a super fun tidbit about instruments and a particularly famous, noisy organ from the time period. But that’s just for PLUS subscribers this episode. 

Margot Fassler:
Okay, so let’s talk about what it’s like. First of all, most of her music is written for the office. Those are the hours of prayer. And the hours of prayer are places where the women have pretty much control of everything. You know, it’s their, it’s their hours of prayer, so they get to sing. And then for the mass, she has very few pieces, but she has sequences, those long chants that are sung before the gospel. And once again, that’s where the community sings. So it’s important to realize that she was c- was composing music that she knew the women of her community could c- could sing legally, uh, in the, in the liturgy. And she composes in the traditional genres of chant. She writes antiphons, responsories, sequences, hymns, et cetera. But she does two things that are distinctive. She uses a genre, but then she blows it up. I say, you know, she takes a, she t- she takes a, a genre, sticks dynamite in it, and lights it, and lets it blow up. So the genre, the genre is there. You can see that it’s working. But she increases the, uh, ambitus, the, the range of pitches. She may increase the numbers of m- of melismatic passages, melismatic being one, one, uh, sound for many notes… look, say, hallelujah, uh-huh Ah, okay. That’s a melisma. You know, that’s a long one, and she, and she writes a lot of long ones. And the other thing is that her music, because she composes both text and music, her music and her texts go together like hand in glove, you know? Beautifully, beautifully arranged with, with each other. And she focuses on … She … Her music is actually, once you understand the formulae in which she writes, it’s quite simple. But it doesn’t sound that way when you, when you first listen to it. But every piece is kind of a, a sonic world unto itself, and you have to study the text, you have to study the music, you have to study the relationship between text and music, and you have to see how she’s using music to comment on text, and using text to comment on the, on the music. It’s part of a whole, and you have to study it and sing it multiple times till you get it. It’s … She’s not, she’s not easy, Hildegard, you know? She’s not easy to read. She’s not easy to, to understand. And think about it. If you’re writing for a monastic community, you can’t be easy to understand. I mean, Chrysogonus Waddell, the great Cistercian historian and monk, used to say, “You can’t, you can’t sing junk if you’re, if you’re in a monastic community, because it will kill you. It will make you sick.”

John Dickson:
Yeah, if you’re singing six hours a day,

Margot Fassler:
You, you can’t, you can’t just sing Kumbaya, you

John Dickson:
Or Love Me Do.

Margot Fassler:
You can’t. You can’t. It’s got to have a, a degree of complexity to sustain your interest and your theological understanding and your musical understanding. Or as Krsaguna said, “It will make you sick,” you know? So her music is, her music is never an easy go, and it’s not supposed to be. And it’s, it repays. It- I learn every time, you know, and I’ve been studying her for years, but she always has more to teach me. And, and that’s the great thing, you know? I mean, it’s, it’s, well, it’s a great thing.

John Dickson (Studio)

Producer Kaley is going to create a kind of ‘Beginner’s Listening Guide to Hildegard von Bingen’ on Spotify, with help from Sister Lydia and Margot Fassler. We’ll link to it in the shownotes. Look for the playlist “Hildegard of Undeceptions”!!! Honestly, I’m amazed by this woman. Going to Bingen, seeing her shrine, touring the abbey, and drinking wine from her vineyard—it was the happiest day of the year for me (apart from every day off with my darling Buff, of course!). Four things strike me. First, Hildegard is a one-person demolition of the frequent claim that medieval Europe was… well, “medieval”—a word we often use to mean backward, the Dark Ages, and all that. Here was a true polymath, with a passion for nature, medicine, astronomy, music, winemaking, ethics, and, of course, theology. She was undoubtedly exceptional, but her long and successful life is compelling evidence of a surrounding culture that valued these things. Secondly, I love that this is a woman doing all of this. That, too, challenges our impression of the Middle Ages. Hildegard reminds us that there were plenty of educated women who lived flourishing lives. And the fact that she was invited to preach in the major centres of the Rhineland is a welcome challenge to some conservative churches today. Even the medieval Church could recognise a gifted woman and give her opportunities to bless thousands. More of that, please. Thirdly, I personally love Hildegard’s reminder that the earth is good. Yes, she was a visionary, theologian, and intellectual. But she also delighted in more than a thousand plants and animals. She believed bodily health mattered. She insisted that God’s good earth was the playground of his children, the arena of the battle between good and evil, and the ultimate focus of Christian hope. Finally, I’m impressed by her call to Christian simplicity. Despite her association with mysticism, Hildegard wanted to see the reform of Christian Europe expressed in practical love. As Sister Lydia told me while we walked around the abbey church, Hildegard put the Bible at the centre and Jesus Christ above everything. That’s a good word to believers and doubters alike. Don’t get distracted by the complexities and disputes among Christians. Read Scripture. Focus on Christ. That’s the true viriditas.

John Dickosn:
I have a, a question for, especially for people who listen to this interview who aren’t believers, like you’re a believer, I am a believer Yes. Mm-hmm But what do you think is the significance of someone like Hildegard for someone who doesn’t believe today? What, what lesson can we learn from her, or what, what does she tell us about the spiritual life, even for people who don’t yet believe?

Sister Lydia:
I think the important thing is, uh, that, um She shows with her life or through her life and how she goes about with people and to her sisters, um, that belief is not, um, something which puts you in a cage. But belief, um, brings a great deal of, um, liberty. Mm. Because God left very much liberty for us to decide for God or not. And also in, um, obedience and one of the vows of Benedictine life, there is so much liberty, um, to use it. Yeah. Because it means listening to God, and I think this is, um, the important point. And you have to decide if you want it or not. Yeah. And if you do not want it, then it’s your decision, and you can go about life. But I’m … Nevertheless, I met people who said they did not believe, but they were very, very, um, careful with people and so on. This was, is also very interesting. Mm. Yeah. 

John Dickson:
Yes, because the, the perception of Christianity by sceptical people is that it, it’s very narrow. Yeah. It crushes your life But it doesn’t. But Hildegard, her life is so expansive- Yes. Yes … intellectually, emotionally- Yes … musically- Yes … philosophically, theologically. 

Sister Lydia:
We have to go to back to that again. Yeah. Because this was, um, uh, in the last, I think, 100 years, 200 years, this was created by church itself. Yeah. And this is, yeah, it’s, uh, s- it’s a sad thing- Yeah I think. 

John Dickson:
Yeah. Do you find yourself praying for the world- Yes … that it would come back to its senses?

Sister Lydia:
Yeah, because we have that in Benedictine life. Mm. We no, not, need not search it in Buddhism or something like that. We have it. Yes. Yeah. Yeah. We have it. And, uh, we have to put that free again.

John Dickson:
Sister Lydia- … you are an inspiration.

Undeceptions theme