Homidas, son of the Blessed Silverus, was the last son of a previous bishop of Rome to ascend to his father’s place. Now there are those such as Gregory, who uttered the curious statement that all sexual desire is sinful in itself.’
Colgú was impatient. ‘Arguments! Precedents! It is like chasing a will o’ the wisp. Is there no law written down by which a judgement can be given and adhered to? Is there no rule given in your religious writings, Ségdae?’
Abbot Ségdae shook his head. ‘I am afraid that the sexual ethics and views on marriage in the Faith have been neither uniform nor static enough to be considered law. The decrees of the various councils have never been universally accepted so far.’
Eadulf coughed nervously. He was well aware that he was a stranger in the kingdom and, according to the social customs and laws, had no right to speak in the presence of a king unless invited. Colgú, however, immediately understood his hesitation and gestured towards him.
‘Do not stand on ceremony here, Eadulf. You have something to contribute to this discussion?’
Eadulf shot him a look of silent gratitude. ‘My experience of those who put forward the argument for celibacy is that they often rely on the writings of Augustine of Hippo.’
Abbot Ségdae looked interested. ‘I would not have considered Augustine to have much influence in this land, especially in the kingdom of Ulaidh, for his views are so contrary to our laws and way of life. He considered women inferior to men both in morals as well as in physical being.’
‘That is true,’ Eadulf agreed. ‘He once wrote. .’ He shut his eyes to recite from memory. ‘I fail to see what use women can be to man if one excludes the function of bearing children.’ He opened his eyes again. ‘In my estimation, Augustine was a silly, narrow and prejudiced person, and I find it strange others hold him in esteem as a great philosopher.’
‘What arguments would Abbot Ultán put forward from this authority, Brother Eadulf?’ asked Brehon Baithen.
‘Augustine believed that Adam and Eve were innocent of sexual temptation or feelings when they lived in the Garden of Eden,’ Eadulf began. ‘Augustine wrote that prior to their fall and expulsion, their sexual impulses had been under conscious control. But because they rebelled against God, the genitals of their descendants rebelled against their will. Humans then became incapable of controlling either their sexual desires or the physical reactions of their gonads, so the only way to achieve a holy life and salvation was to abjure all form of dealings with women.’
‘Is what you have said considered to be the main argument of those who advocate celibacy?’ Colgú asked. ‘That suppression of the natural role between the sexes is a path to religious perfection?’
‘There is another argument which, I think, many of the higher priesthood in Rome find more congenial,’ Eadulf replied.
‘Which is?’
‘It is the practical consideration. In these kingdoms you do not have the concept of absolute private ownership in the land, so the argument does not affect you so much. But elsewhere, especially in Rome, property is a great consideration. It is the economic idea that drives the arguments for an unmarried clergy.’
Fidelma regarded Eadulf with some surprise, and he smiled reassuringly at her unasked question.
‘When I was in Rome, I attended many debates and arguments,’ he explained.
‘What is this economic idea, then?’ asked Abbot Ségdae.
‘Married religious are too expensive to maintain. They have to be given housing, food and clothing, not only for themselves but also for their wives and children. And the children of priests can inherit their property, so that assets which the church wants to hold can be left away from it. The church’s resources are therefore spent in catering to the wives and children of the married religious. What is more, in many lands you now find that sacerdotal dynasties are common — indeed, normal. Sons of abbots and bishops become abbots and bishops as well.’
‘Little wrong in that,’ agreed Abbot Ségdae. ‘In the five kingdoms it has always been tradition that the priesthood passes down in certain families. At the abbeys of Cluain Mic Nois, at Lusca and Claine, the abbacy passes down within the family, the abbot being elected by the
Eadulf knew this well enough.
‘The difference is that your civil laws provide for this and counter any impropriety by the fact that the abbey is not the sole owner of the land it covers,’ he pointed out. ‘The land is granted to the abbey by the chieftain or king, and the local clan also elects a lay officer to ensure that the land and property are not alienated. This is not so in other cultures where the abbot’s family can seize the property and make it personal to their families. This is what the
Abbot Ségdae shook his head with an exasperated sigh. ‘I have no understanding of this.’
Colgú shared his perplexity. ‘No more do I, yet I understand that Eadulf is saying that the concerns of Rome have no relevance in this land. What it comes down to is this, and correct me if I am wrong: Abbot Ultán’s views are not supported by any law or rule that must be obeyed by all members of the Faith. Is that so?’
‘That is so,’ agreed Baithen.
‘Then, should Abbot Ultán start protesting, he must be told in front of the assembly that his personal views, no matter who shares them, are not law in this land. He must desist from voicing his protest until some council of the church, which has jurisdiction to do so, makes it into a binding law on members of the Faith. Only when such an ecclesiastical rule is incorporated into our law system can such protests be validly made.’
Brehon Baithen smiled in satisfaction.
‘An excellent summary of the situation,’ he applauded.
Colgú glanced at his sister with a smile. ‘Do you approve of this course of action?’
Fidelma’s expression was solemn.
‘It is the only course,’ she agreed almost reluctantly. ‘I would rather that Abbot Ultán would not raise the matter in the first place, but. .’ She ended with a shrug.
‘Perhaps. .’ began Eadulf, and then paused.
‘Perhaps?’ prompted Colgú immediately, turning to him.
‘I wondered if Abbot Ultán could be informed of the decision in this matter tonight, before the ceremony starts tomorrow, in an effort to persuade him to hold his peace?’
‘A good suggestion,’ agreed the king. ‘Surely that could do no harm?’ Colgú glanced round the company and his eyes came to rest on Abbot Ségdae. ‘But who would speak with him? As senior churchman. .?’
Abbot Ségdae shook his head immediately. ‘Not I. Our discussion at Imleach has made Ultán view me as his prime antagonist and I doubt whether he would listen to a word I said.’
‘Advising on law and procedure is my role,’ Brehon Baithen interposed. ‘I will go to his chambers and have a word with this fiery prelate from the north. Perhaps the commander of the guard will attend me as the person who will have to enforce order in case our northern friend becomes too inflammatory in his protests?’
Caol smiled broadly and signified his agreement.
‘Then we are satisfied as to this course?’ asked Colgú, glancing round. There was a murmuring of assent and the king sighed and sat back. ‘Remain with me, Fidelma, and you also, Eadulf.’
He waited until Abbot Ségdae, Brehon Baithen and Caol had departed, and then he rose to pour three goblets of wine, handing one each to his sister and Eadulf before taking the third for himself.
‘To a peaceful day tomorrow,’ he toasted. They drank dutifully.
There was a pause and then Eadulf commented: ‘Abbot Ultán apart, it should be anything but peaceful, judging from the distinguished visitors that have flocked to Cashel and the festival that is being prepared in the town. All this for what is no more than a confirmation of our wedding vows. We have already been married a year.’
Colgú laughed with good nature. ‘You may have lived as
‘Well, I had not expected a ceremony so elaborate as to bring the High King and his Chief Brehon here, not
