The Doctor Is In: St. Hildegard of Bingen

By Eric Hanna, S.J.
 

Credit: www.hildegardofbingen.net

When we think of the middle ages, we think of cold, dark castles, miserable and dirty peasants, and austere holy men preaching damnation. But the middle ages were as dynamic and full of life as any period in the human story, with personal struggle, vivid imagination, intellectual curiosity, and love of beauty. And one of the shining lights of these so-called dark ages was a brilliant woman called Hildegard of Bingen, eleventh century Abbess, composer, biologist, healer, writer and spiritual advisor. And today, Hildegard is both a saint and a doctor of the church.


On October 7th, Pope Benedict XVI opened the Synod on the New Evangelization with the announcement that saints Hildegard of Bingen and John of Avila would be officially declared Doctors of the Church. This title is bestowed on writers to recognize that the whole church has “benefited greatly from their doctrine”. Hildegard's writing is an example of excellence both in nature and grace. She writes brilliantly on the basis of a keen intellect and her personal experience of many facets of human life. She was also inspired by holy visions received as part of a lifetime of devoted prayer.

Those Darn Dark Ages

By John D. O’Brien, S.J. 

Credit: www.zazzle.ca

Occasionally you can hear people referring to a period in history called “the dark ages”. Usually it is expressed as something like this: “We’re not in the dark ages anymore!”, or, “What is this, the dark ages?”, and especially this: “That would take us back to the dark ages!” It is a deliberately exaggerated epithet intended to convey the belief that we have evolved beyond something the speaker disagrees with—usually quite strongly.

The trouble is, it is intellectually lazy at best and downright malicious at worst. The implicit assumption, of course, that there was a time (before ours naturally) when things were really, really “dark”. Life was akin to that portrayed in one of those depressing medieval films, where it is raining all time, feral children wrestle with dogs in the straw, the nobles are invariably conniving and corrupt, and the Church is suppressing all learning and, well, civilization. Most scholars know this image is pure bunkum, and if you want to make any medievalist cringe, try using the phrase in his or her presence.