St. Augustine of Canterbury and a theology of place

The Venerable Bede says that when St. Augustine of Canterbury and his companions were on their way to England to preach the Gospel, they lost heart and wanted to return home to Rome. “For they were appalled at the idea of going to a barbarous, fierce, and pagan nation,” writes Bede. St. Augustine had personally been sent by Pope St. Gregory to England, a place on the edges of the empire that the Romans considered a land full of dangerous idol-worshipers and half-civilized violent tribes.

Christians had been living in England since the 1st century. Rumor had it that Joseph of Arimathea had visited and helped establish a center of Christian worship at Glastonbury. In earlier times the Romans had co-existed there with the Brits, but in the interim the island had been invaded by Anglo-Saxons. They were essentially Germanic pagans. With their arrival and ascendance to dominance, Christianity had withered. That is why St. Gregory was eager to re-establish the Church there.

Following a quick trip back to Rome for moral support from the Holy Father, St. Augustine managed to rally his men and keep them from permanently returning to Rome. In the year 597, they crossed the English Channel and landed near Canterbury. After arriving, they met King Ethelbert of Kent and explained the teachings of the Church to him. Their message was well received and St. Augustine, along with his monks, was able to stay and make a home in Canterbury. There they put down roots and lived according to the Benedictine rule of life.

Their mission stood the test of time, and today a great cathedral stands in the place where St. Augustine first settled.

I’ve always wondered what made those monks so successful. How did a small group of men change the course of an entire nation as it developed? As I’ve thought about it, the singular fact that stands out is their commitment. They engaged their mission with their whole selves. At the outset, they were nervous and unsure. They didn’t experience success right away, either. King Ethelbert was kind to them, but he didn’t initially become Catholic. There was almost certainly ongoing, lurking danger from the neighboring pagan tribes who didn’t want to welcome the newcomers. But the monks stayed. They made a home in Canterbury, making the best home they possibly could. This was the secret of their success. They weren’t tourists.

St. Augustine and his companions took up the challenge to leave their comfortable homes in Rome and travel to a distant corner of the world. This goes to show the way the Church is connected across the globe. It doesn’t matter where we live, what tribe we belong to, or what our social standing might be, the Church has solidarity. St. Augustine traveled across the known world to invite new people into the Church.

We, too, have an ongoing responsibility to pray for and care for people all over the world, particularly the persecuted Church and those who are not yet Catholic.

However, only a few have the vocation to leave everything behind and physically travel as missionaries to different lands. For the rest of us, what’s helpful in St. Augustine’s example is what he did once he arrived in his new place. Once he arrived in England, he made it a home. He and his monks planted themselves in the soil of southern England, not only building magnificent churches and monasteries, but also improving the land, participating in the local economy, and building local culture. They created what we might call a patrimony of place, a gift that is still passed down to this day from generation to generation, a particular way of dwelling in that specific local community.

This is why those monks were so effective. They loved the people they settled among, became part of the life of the place, and began contributing to it by offering the gifts they had. They loved their new home. Naturally, we all want the best for what we love. For St. Augustine, this included inviting all his neighbors to become Catholic.

His message became effective because he was part of the community. He had responsibilities to those who lived nearby and they to him. They came to trust and appreciate each other. They became co-conspirators in an attempt to make southern England the most beautiful, happiest place in the world.

We, too, are born into a specific time and place. We arrive as strangers but are quickly woven into the fabric of the community.

Yesterday, God sent me on a mission of my own. The prompting of my conscience sent me out into our yard to pull weeds and sweep the patio. I knew that doing so would be helpful to my wife but also that, in doing so, I was making our yard look nice for the neighbors. It seems like nothing more than a trifling duty, working in the yard so it will be beautiful and full of flowers and birds, but on their evening walks our neighbors often stop to look at our magnolia tree or admire the many irises that grow in front of our house.

Sometimes I see them taking a picture in front of the magnolia when it’s in full bloom. They will occasionally stop to wish me a good evening while I’m sitting under the tree watching my daughter play in its branches. Sometimes we will talk more in depth, discussing their family or, once they’ve found out about my faith, the Catholic Church. They hear the happy squeals of our children and observe the life we’ve built in that home. My hope is that they leave with a good impression. Perhaps they wonder what sort of spiritual outlook is capable of shaping such a big happy family. Our little piece of paradise becomes an occasion to build relationships.

Over the years, we have become part of the community. Our children play with all the other children at the playground. Our son walks neighborhood dogs and our daughter babysits. When it snows, all the parents and children appear at the hill in the park to sled. My kids have sold lemonade to everyone on the block. This is how culture is built in our little corner of the world.

Love the place where God has planted you, just as St. Augustine did, and God will shine through you and illuminate it with his beauty.