#Aelred of Rievaulx

[eugaenia]

POV: You're a twelfth-century monk and you think of your body as of:

Like why. Why such a slutty metaphor 😭 (it's not even a biblical reference).

(From Aelred of Rievaulx's A Rule of Life for a Recluse)

[the-mediaeval-monk]

Interestingly enough, "woman tries to seduce monastic male saint and fails miserably" is such a common hagiographical trope that it really does stand out that Saint Aelred does not have one in his hagiography.

That man was not straight.

[eugaenia]

It’s even funnier when you know that it's not that far from the actual medieval tales, take for example the description of a duel between King Edmund the Ironside and Cnut the Great written by Aelred of Rievaulx in his Genealogy of the Kings of the English. It can’t be more gayish:

How do you make people fall in love with you

challenge them to a duel 

[craigtowens]

Links & Quotes

When we pray the closing words of the prayer Jesus gave us—“For Yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen!—we are both acknowledging God’s awesomeness and we are asking for our lives to display this reality. I have a lot of new video content on my YouTube channel every week. Please check it out and subscribe so you don’t miss anything. “He who loves iniquity does not love…

[intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd]

AELRED OF RIEVAULX

AELRED OF RIEVAULX

1110-1167       

English monk

            Aelred of Rievaulx was the son of a priest, in 1095, the council forbade the ordination of the sons of priests, to stop offspring from getting priests finances after their death. Aelred spent his early years at the court of King David I of Scotland in Roxburgh; he lived at court to be a companion to the king’s son, Henry, and two of his stepsons.

            He left Scotland to live in a Yorkshire monastery and became an English Cistercian monk, abbot of Rievaulx from 1147-1167. He is best known for being a writer, spiritual as well as writing history and addressed his books to Henry II of England. As Abbott he had to travel for political reasons.

            At the end of his life he suffered from kidney stones and arthritis. It was said that he sat in a cold tank of water every day. One day one of the monks went berserk, called him ‘lazy’ and threw Aelred into a hearth fire. He was quickly rescued by other monks who were close by. Aelred stated that the monk was ‘ill’ and said, ‘I forgive that monk who threw me on the fire.’

            Suffering from illness and pain, he died from kidney disease at Rievaulx aged 57.

#aelredofrievaulx

[the-busy-ghost]

The fact that there has never been an In Our Time episode devoted to Aelred of Rievaulx is bizarre to me, out of all the subjects that are tailor made for that programme and its interests, as well as the specific background of its host, I mean come on

[apenitentialprayer]

Okay, so let's talk about this. By unanimous teaching, I mean the apparently uncontested praxis of the Church combined with a lack of any variance in stance when articulating teaching on the matter. As such, it is an exercise of the ordinary magisterium of the Church in extrapolating from the plain sense of Scripture, and it seems like a pretty solid stance to me. (One could argue that John Boswell's Same-Sex Unions in Pre-Modern Europe problematizes this, but it is a pretty controversial book).

I am going to axiomatically assert something that you are free to challenge, but I think is self-evident: attitudes toward a group of people are inherently more complicated than commands concerning one action. And I think that this is going to be on display in the situation that you brought up; but I also want to make it clear that I am trying to be truthful, so I am going to say in advance that a lot of our guys are not going to come out of this looking awesome. Because yikes. But I do think that the "unanimity" claimed by this counter-argument isn't as unanimous as the teaching on gay sex. And that's where the burden of proof on my position lies: not that the Fathers were unanimously pro-women (but that would have been nice), but simply that their position was not unanimously anti-women, giving the Church the room to step in and clarify Her position as mentioned in my original response.

And with that, I am going to start with praxis and the New Testament. Throughout the book of Acts and the Epistles of Paul (and maybe the Johannine Epistles, but the "lady" is unnamed and may actually be referring to a particular Church, so if you want to exclude that, I get it. I would), we have women who seem to hold pretty prominent positions in the early Christian movement. We have a Chloe in 1 Corinthians 1 who runs a household, we have Phoebe who definitely holds some sort of position in the Church in Corinth, and Junia who is "prominent" or "outstanding" among the early Christian missionaries as described by Paul himself. Even if we want to drop Chloe as an example because Paul mentions her neutrally, we have one prominent woman who Paul praises as outstanding and another that he trusts to deliver (and recite?) the Epistle to the Romans.

And, of course, there is Priscilla, who I think deserves her own paragraph. Priscilla is prominent enough in the early Christian community that Paul mentions that she sends her greetings to the community in Corinth (remember: she is from Rome, not Corinth, so this isn't a strictly personal thing), and Paul declares that both Priscilla and her husband are coworkers of his in Christ. I will note that "co-worker" does not necessarily imply equality in Greek as it does in English, but I think it is important that Priscilla and Aquila are mentioned in tandem here, especially since the book of Acts describes both members of this couple as catechizing Paul further after they hear him preach.

So, right off the bat, I think the claim of unanimity of teaching that "women are inferior to men" is on shakier grounds than "gay sex is sinful." The only argument I can think of from the New Testament for the permissibility of gay sex is that some claim that the servant (literally παῖς, "servant" or "boy" in Matthew's Greek) whom a centurion asks Jesus to heal may have been in a sexual relationship with his master; the Matthean text, as mentioned, uses a more tender word for servant than the Lucan, while the Lucan text also mentions that the servant was "highly valued." Jesus heals the sick servant without condemning homosexuality. And maybe you're convinced by that argument. I am not. Because even if the "high value" placed on the servant was romantic or sexual in nature (which is an inference)... controversial opinion, but the servant would still be worthy of Christ's compassionate healing.

Of course, the elephant in the room is that Paul (or the letters attributed to him; whatever) also writes quite a few things that allow for... what I'll call a polyphonic tradition concerning women and their status in society. I am going to ignore what are called the "household codes," because I don't think they are as problematic as modern readers make them out to be. I think there is something to be said about the fact that Paul establishes a pattern where he asserts the dominant culture's traditional values, and then quickly adds something new. As the Franciscan scholar of Biblical theology Jude Winkler mentions in his commentary, Paul asserts responsibilities towards each member of the household without explicit mention of any privileges over other members of the household. But even so, there are plenty of verses for the Church Fathers to draw from to establish "women are inferior."

And it is at this point that I am going to cheat a little bit, and deploy a hermeneutical tool proposed by an Anglican scholar. John Macquarrie states, regarding the attitudes toward women in the early Church:

Sociologically, a religious institution tends to reflect the traditional mores and so usually exercises a conservative influence. Theologically, however, such an institution may be bringing in new and even revolutionary ideas, without at the time being fully aware of the implications of these ideas. One could even say —if the comparison is allowed— that the theology is like a time-bomb which will explode at some future date with unforeseeable consequences.

Now, I want to make something clear: What I am not saying is that Revelation allows for sudden switches when we "discover" some hidden meaning in the text. If that were so, well, the Church affirming gay sex as not sinful wouldn't be enough to make me leave. What I am suggesting is that Revelation leaves ideas or principles that we can see irritating the proponents of a view contrary to that idea or principle within the historical record. And I think that irritant in this case is the combined creation narratives in the Book of Genesis, with it's dual doctrines of (I) man and woman share a nature, and (II) that nature is made in the Image of God.

I think that the use of these doctrines to establish the equality of the sexes reaches its height in the premodern world in Aelred of Rievaulx's On Spiritual Friendship, where he states:

It was from no similar, nor even from the same, material that divine Might formed this helpmate, but as a clearer inspiration to charity and friendship He produced the woman from the very substance of the man. How beautiful it is that the second human being was taken from the side of the first, so that nature might teach that human beings are equal and, as it were, collateral, and that there is in human affairs neither a superior nor an inferior, a characteristic of true friendship.

Now, you may be thinking, Aelred of Rievaulx died in the 1160s. Yes... and when I asked another blogger to similarly give me one example of a pro-gay sex theologian who lived before 1200, the best she could do was "I cannot find a Christian theologian before 155 who talks negatively about homosexuality." I think this is another leg up for my position on the differences between these two "unanimous" teachings. But again, if you can find an orthodox Christian defending its permissibility (or even an unorthodox one, not because that would convince me but because it would be interesting to learn about) in that time period, I am all ears.

But, back to the irritant thing. I am going to look at two passages right now, one from a commentary by Pseudo-Ambrose on 1 Corinthians 11:7, and the other from John Chrysostom on 1 Timothy 2:11-15. I will admit up front that I think my analysis of Pseudo-Ambrose is the weaker of the two arguments.

So Ambrosiaster (that's faster to type than Pseudo-Ambrose) is commenting on a verse that reads: "for [man] is the glory and image of God; but woman is the glory of man." And this could be an argument for the innate inferiority of women. And Ambrosiaster does make the argument that man is first "by cause and order." But here's the thing: that pesky Genesis gets in the way. Ambrosiaster has to address it, and the way he argues for it (in my opinion) shows how he has to square this verse with the Genesis narrative, and not the other way around. And to explain this apparent discrepancy, he says "although man and women are of the same substance, man has relational priority because he is the head of the woman." The immediate riposte here is that man is not "the head" of woman. This would be, Biblically speaking, the specific relation between husband and wife. (And that's another can of worms, but this is getting to be long). And the clearest analogy to what Ambrosiaster seems to be trying to formulate is the relationship between the Father and the Son, who are also of one substance, and, as per the Athanasian Creed... are coequal (coaequales) because of that. Moving on to Chrysostom, who uses Genesis 3 to explain his position on the infamous passage in Timothy. In his ninth homily of that book, Chrysostom uses the Genesis narrative as an etiology for the unequalness of the sexes. Eve had one opportunity to "teach" Adam, and that was a disaster for the human race. And, what's worse, Eve fell harder than Adam did, because she was deceived by an animal, while Adam was deceived by an equal: "she made bad use of her power over him, or rather her equality over him." Whoa, there! Adam and Eve were equal before the Fall? And that inequality was the result of the Fall? I think that by hinging his argument on Genesis, Chrysostom has exposed his position to an immediate critique — which he just glosses over! If inequality of the sexes is the result of the Fall, and if the Redemption reconciles us and saves us from the effects of the Fall.... you get where I'm going with this?

Combine this with a range of views from Augustine's "women are good, actually" argument against the Manicheans (not a solid argument for equality, I know) to Tertullian's (who is not a saint) "monstrous creatures" comment, and I think you can make an argument that the Church has plenty of room to step in and clarify what contents of these many voices actually ring true.

So, to recap: what I am not saying is that "actually, the Church Fathers always taught women were equal to men and we've always been awesome on that :)))." (I haven't read a lot of Epiphanius of Salamis's works, but one passage enough was to make me rethink my stance on womens' leadership in the Church, because holy shit, dude. We put you in charge of women???). But what I am saying is:

the Church's historical attitudes towards women are not as singularly monolithic as its teaching on the impermissibility of gay sex.

the teachings of the Church Fathers who argued for or justified the total subordination of women had to address the opposing view in a way that (arguably) undermines their position.

And I think these weaken the "unanimous teaching" enough to justify an acceptance of a development in doctrine within the Church in a way that a reversal of the Church's stance on same-sex sexual activity does not.

I think it is also worth mentioning that the articulation of doctrine and the unfolding of concepts as transmitted from Revelation is a process that is historically conditioned. The way that it grows into itself is often a response to the social factors and cultural conditions around it that demand a response. The Church draws from the intellectual atmosphere around it, sanctifying what is good in it for a higher purpose, and enriching Her articulation of the faith through it. So I would not to downplay, and would in fact like to thank, the feminist and personalist movements that contributed to the development.

Does this strain the credibility of the Catholic Church? Yes. Is it a death-blow? I don't think so. But also, I need to re-emphasize this, I am Literally Just Some Guy on the internet. So, if you want to investigate this yourself, I would recommend looking for works dealing with women in Late Antiquity and the Medieval Periods.

lol I love when straight catholics are like if the church affirmed homosexuality i would leave bc she'd clearly be wrong and it'd undermine fundamental catholic doctrine cus like. I do somewhat get it. it'd certainly put a question mark over simplistic ideas of church authority. it does undermine credibility of the church and perhaps even of Christianity as a whole.

but also. the idea your faith is actively resting on not affirming gay people and would be destroyed if you discovered it was otherwise - that gay marriages would annihilate whatever else you found in Christianity that's good and life giving and meaningful - that feels a bit personal lol. and it's functionally saying 'I think lgbt peoples suffering is not just a sad fact of life but necessary for my own faith to exist; you need to be alienated from God so I can have my certainty Im doing the right thing'

[catholic-saint-tournament]

Aelred of Rievaulx for his treatise on spiritual friendship and it's gay vibes

I've heard of Aelred!!!!! He's got this super cool abbey in the UK!!! and look a quote below!!

No medicine is more valuable, none more efficacious, none better suited to the cure of all our temporal ills than a friend to whom we may turn for consolation in time of trouble, and with whom we may share our happiness in time of joy. On Spiritual Friendship

This is his first nomination so you'll need a LOT more love and propaganda to get him to the post-schism bracket!!

[letterful]

In the Gospel of Luke, neither God nor the Holy Spirit manifests any visible appearance to Mary; it is Gabriel alone who stands and speaks with her during the conception of Jesus. [...] And what a sight he makes. The Gospel of Luke mentions that when Gabriel first spoke to Mary, she was troubled (turbata, “troubled, disturbed, disordered, agitated, excited”) (1:29). And yet, according to the second-century apocryphal Gospel of James, Mary received her daily sustenance from the hand of an angel. Why, then, would the familiar sight of an angel upset her so? According to ancient and medieval exegetes, although angels attended Mary every day, Gabriel must have been the first to appear to her disguised as a man. [...] And not in the likeness of just any man: the apocryphal Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew specifies that Gabriel appeared to Mary as “a young man of indescribable beauty.”

Medieval artists elaborated on this detail with enormous enthusiasm. Artists made the archangel ridiculously attractive, expending on him all their very best hairstyles and outfits. [...] As the only visible and humanoid agent of God’s envoy to the Virgin, Gabriel functions as an attractive showpiece—the Incarnation’s representative male object of desire onto which the medieval erotic gaze transfixed its ardent attention.

[...] Twelfth-century theologians described the Annunciation as a courtly romance, according to the rules of which [...] every lover needs an intermediary [...]. Aelred of Rievaulx identified Gabriel as God’s angelic go-between and bridesman, his paranymphus angelus. Yet as the legend of Tristan and Isolde attests, the courtly necessity of employing an intermediary puts the lover at great risk. When King Mark sent Tristan to woo Isolde on his behalf, Tristan wooed for himself. Small wonder, as the genre of courtly love tends to favor adultery over marriage. We all know how the story of the king, queen, and handsome knight tends to end.

— EMMA MAGGIE SOLBERG, from Virgin Whore.

[actualmermaid]

Today is All Saints Day, and I'm observing it in a somewhat unconventional manner: cyberbullying the Anglican Church in North America

The ACNA, if you're not familiar, is a group that splintered off from the Episcopal Church in 2009. The reason for the schism was that they believed TEC had "gone astray" by ordaining women priests and affirming LGBTQ people, so a bunch of conservative Episcopalians and clergy split off into their own group: the ACNA. They claim to be "continuing" Anglicans, representing the "real" Anglican tradition in the US and Canada.

The reason I'm cyberbullying them on All Saints Day is because they are conspicuously missing a lovely, pious, respectable, and orthodox Anglican saint: Saint Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167 CE)

St. Aelred was a monk, abbot, historian, and spiritual writer from Northumbria. During his lifetime, the abbey boasted hundreds of monks and lay brothers, because Aelred was known for his friendly and gentle demeanor, wise leadership, and healthy community. He had the ear of kings and bishops all over northern Europe. He preached charity, humility, chastity, and all kinds of other Christian virtues. In short, he was the very model of a respectable medieval churchman.

He was also Very Much In Love With Men, and he wrote a treatise called "Spiritual Friendship," which might be nicknamed "How To Be In Love With Men In A God-Honoring Way." I've read it. It's wonderful and timeless and also very, very gay. He was in love with men. In a gay way.

Fast forward to the year 1980. Up until this point, St. Aelred had been a somewhat obscure local English saint. And then a groundbreaking new book was published which challenged all conventional narratives surrounding the Church and queer people in the Middle Ages: Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality by John Boswell. Boswell wrote at some length about Aelred and his love for men, drawing on his other work besides "Spiritual Friendship" and situating him into what was actually something of a "golden age" of gay culture in western Europe. Yes, really.

Fast forward again to the year 1985. At the Episcopal Church's general convention that year, members of Integrity USA (the original LGBTQ advocacy org in TEC) campaigned to have St. Aelred added to the calendar of saints. The House of Bishops agreed, and they added him to the church calendar with full knowledge that Aelred was gay.

Aelred was also physically disabled, and he wrote about his Spiritual Friend becoming "my hand, my eye, the staff of my old age": in other words, his Spiritual Friend was his caretaker as his health declined near the end of his life (which was still quite short even for a medieval person). He also describes the pain of his Spiritual Friend's early death in a way that remains tender 800 years later. I will leave you to imagine why that might be spiritually relevant to a bunch of nice church gays in 1985.

Fast forward again to 2009. The conservative wing of the Church has had enough of TEC's bleeding-heart liberal reforms, so they secede from the union leave and establish their own church without any icky queers or women priests. St. Aelred had been an official Episcopal saint for 25 years at that point, and the newly-formed ACNA had to consciously, deliberately choose to remove him from their calendar of saints.

Fast forward again to earlier this summer. I start doing research into queer Christian history and queer saints. I realize that Aelred is conspicuously missing from the ACNA's calendar, so I look into the background and decide to get obnoxious about it on Instagram. Because this is VERY embarrassing for a church that claims to be the "real" Anglican Church in North America.

A selection of memes for your enjoyment:

[watchingwisteria]

ok like two people saw this so i want to clarify that the second addition about “his silence talked” is a very real quote from SAINT aelred of rievaulx about another monk in his order. aelred eventually became abbot of his monastery and changed the rules to allow for open expressions of affection, physical and verbal, between brothers.

although my academic training prevents me from outright labeling him as queer, this is HIGHLY unusual and in my opinion should not be considered just another example of so-called “monastic friendship.” even today, like in 2023, cloistered men and women are discouraged from having friendships, period. like you aren’t supposed to reveal too much about yourself or your problems or anything else lest you encourage “particular relationships.”

not only did aelred ignore this instruction in his own formation (which he surely received) but he changed. the. centuries. old. rules. of his cistercian monastery to allow for HAND HOLDING among the brothers. and i just absolutely adore him for this

medieval bishops will literally be like “fuck them gays” then write each other letters about how “i want to be transported to you by the angels and collapse in your arms because i miss you so much. i want to pepper your whole body with kisses because i love you so dearly. my face is wet with tears for want of your body next to mine.”

[apenitentialprayer]

What do you think about same-sex “spiritual friendship” as an alternative to “marriage””

I think that it might be better to get the opinion of someone who isn't exclusively interested in members of the opposite sex when it comes to how one finds personal and emotional intimacy in a situation where marriage is precluded.

That being said, I think Saint Aelred of Rievaulx's Spiritual Friendship (I quoted a couple passages in my Aelred tag) certainly talks about the depth of intimacy and fulfillment that friendship (whether between a man and a woman, or between two people of the same sex) can bring, and that might be worth looking into.

[anastpaul]

One Minute Reflection – 17 Octoberber – “The Month of the Most Holy Rosary and of the Angels” – St Margaret Mary Alacoque (1647-1690) Virgin – Ephesians 3:8-9, 14-19, Matthew 11:25-30 – Scripture search here: https://www.drbo.org/ “For My yoke is sweet and My burden light.” – Matthew 11:30 REFLECTION – “People who complain about the roughness of the Lord’s yoke have possibly not completely rejected, the heavy load of the lusts of the world, or, if they did reject them, they have enslaved themselves to them again, to their greater shame! Outwardly, they carry the yoke of the Lord but inwardly, they submit their shoulders to the burden of the world’s cares. They set on the balance of the Lord’s yoke, the hardships and difficulties which they inflict on themselves… As for the yoke of the Lord – it is “sweet and its burden light”. Indeed, what is sweeter, what more glorious, than to see oneself lifted up above the world by the scorn one shows it and, seated at the summit of a conscience at peace, to have the whole world at one’s feet? Then, one sees nothing to desire, nothing to fear, nothing to envy, nothing of one’s own which might be taken away, no evil which might be caused one, by another. The eyes of the heart turn towards “an inheritance which is incorruptible, undefiled and unfading which is kept for us in Heaven” (1 Pt 1:4). With a sort of greatness of soul, one gives little importance to this world’s goods – they pass away; to the pleasures of the flesh – they are contaminated; to the world’s pomp – it fades and, in one’s joy, one repeats the words of the Prophet: “All mankind is grass and all its glory like the flower of the field; the grass withers, the flower fades but the Word of the Lord remains forever” (Is 40:6-8)… In charity – and nowhere but in charity – dwells true tranquillity and true sweetness, for, it is the yoke of the Lord!” – St Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167) Cistercian Monk (The Mirror of charity I:30-31).

(via One Minute Reflection – 17 October – “For My yoke is sweet and My burden light.” – Matthew 11:30 – AnaStpaul)

[queerprayers]

. . . we attained that stage at which we had but one mind and one soul, to will and not to will alike. . . . For I deemed my heart in a fashion his, and his mine, and he felt in like manner towards me. . . . He was the refuge of my spirit, the sweet solace of my griefs, whose heart of love received me when fatigued from labors, whose counsel refreshed me when plunged in sadness and grief. . . . What more is there, then, that I can say? Was it not a foretaste of blessedness thus to love and thus to be loved?

St. Aelred of Rievaulx (1110-1167) on his relationship with a fellow monk, translated by John Boswell in Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality (1980).

from Aelred's De spirituali amicitia, 3.124-27; published in Spiritual Friendship, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 5 (Washington, D.C., 1974), by Mary Laker, pp. 120-129.

[eugaenia]

Well, I can't resist attaching here the most affective passages from Aelred's lament over the death of his close friend Simon, which appear in his work "Mirror of Charity" and which further illustrate just how important friendship was to him. :')

„[My] grief prevents me from going further. The recent death of my dear Simon forcibly drives me instead to weep for him. […] You are astonished that I am weeping; you are still more astonished that I go on living! For who would not be astonished that Aelred goes on living without Simon, except someone who does not know how sweet it was to live together, how sweet it would be to return together to the fatherland. So bear patiently with my tears, my sighs, the moaning of my heart, then. And you, my beloved, although you have been brought into the joy of the Lord, […] still permit me to offer you my tears […]. Let not my sighing burden you, for it is prompted not by despair but by attachement. Do not restrain my tears, which flow not from lack of faith but from tenderness. […] Let me alone, then, that I may assuage my sorrow. Mine, I say, mine, for your death is not to be wept over when it was precedet by a life so praiseworthy, so lovable, so pleasing to all […]. For you, beloved brother, for you I rejoice, but for myself I feel keen sorrow. […] What a marvel that I be said to be alive, when such a great part of my life, so sweet a solace for my pilgrimage, so unique an alleviation for my misery, has been taken away from me. It is as if my body had been eviscerated and my hapless soul rent to pieces. And am I said to be alive? O wretched life, O grievous life, a life without Simon! […] My attachement seeks his sweet presence which nourished it delightfully, but my reason does not agree that this soul, beloved by me, once free from the flesh should again be subject to the miseries of the flesh. […] Here now, O Lord, I shall follow his ways, that in you I may enjoy his company. Look at what I have lost. Look at what I miss. Where have you gone, O model for my life, harmonizer of my conduct? Where have you gone, where have you vanished? What shall I do? Where shall I turn? Whom now shall I propose to follow? How have you been torn from my embrace, withdrawn from my kisses, removed from before my eyes? […] What […] did you gain, bitter death? What did you gain? Of course, you invaded his tent, the site of his pilgrimage, but you broke the chain which tethered him. […] Now, therefore, his soul […] has been divested of its enveloping flesh and […] has flown off on freer wings to that pure and sublime Good to be gathered into the long desired embrace of Christ. […] Where you seem to have done something to him, you are shown to have been profitable to him. So you spewed all your poison over me. Seeking him, you inflicted dire wounds upon me. […] Now, O my eyes, what are you doing, what are you doing? I beg you, do not be sparing, do not pretend. Offer whatever you have, whatever you can, over the remains of my beloved. Are these tears reprehensible? Yet the tears you shed over the death of your friend excuses us, Lord, for they express our affection and give us a glimpse of your charity. […] Oh how sweet are your tears and how gentle. What savor and consolation they give to my troubled mind. […] But perhaps some stalwart persons at this moment are passing judgement on my tears, considering my love too human. Let they interpret [them] as they please. But you, Lord, look at them, observe them! […] Look at the source of my fear, O Lord, look at the source of my tears. Heed them, O most tender-loving, dearest and most merciful Lord. Receive them, O my only hope, my one and only refuge, the object of my intentions, my God, my mercy! Receive them, O Lord, as the sacrifice I offer you for my most beloved friend and, if any flaws remained in him, either pardon them or impute them to me. Let me, let me be struck, let me be scourged, I shall pay for everything. I ask only that you do not hide your blessed face from him, withdraw your sweetness, or delay your kindly consolation. […] To me, also, a wretch albeit his beloved, grant a place of rest some day with him in your bosom. Amen.“

(Aelred of Rievaulx, The Mirror of Charity, translated by Elizabeth Connor, ocso, Kalamazoo 1990, pp. 147-159)

Aelred of Rievaulx was a 12th century Cistercian abbot. One of the many topics Aelred of Rievaulx wrote about was the love he felt for other men and love between men.  . While I don’t know if Aelred would call himself gay or bisexual or something else, there is a lot of homoerotic language in his work “Spiritual Friendship.” Throughout the work he discusses in detail how to love and what true friendship is.  . For my modern audience, it’s important to note that passionate love doesn’t have to include lust/intimate relations. You can love without “relations” just like you can have “relations” without love. (Phrasing to avoid algorithm censorship.) . Here are some sections that particularly stood out to me: . In Book 2, sections 21-27 of Spiritual Friendship, Aelred describes all the different types of kissing people can do. Some of the kissing he means literally but others are metaphors for spiritual connections between people and God.  . In Book 3, section 82, Aelred discusses how much he loves the monks in his care.  . In Book 3, sections 85-87 the monks Aelred talks to describes their passionate friendship with each other and Aelred warns them they have a carnal friendship but it could grow into a spiritual one.  . In Book 3, sections 119-130 Aelred describes in detail two of his most intimate relationships, including one where his friend warns him that their “love should not be measured according to the comfort of the flesh, lest this be attributed more to [Aelred’s] carnal affection.”  .

(My copy of Spiritual Friendship was translated by Peter Frick and edited by Marsha L. Dutton.) 

Aelred of Rievaulx sitting in an initial with a scroll . Douai, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 392 f.3 . Source: Bibliothèque municipale de Douai

[transgenderer]

In Christianity, an anchorite or anchoret (female: anchoress) is someone who, for religious reasons, withdraws from secular society to be able to lead an intensely prayer-orientated, ascetic, or Eucharist-focused life. While anchorites are frequently considered to be a type of hermit,[2] unlike hermits they were required to take a vow of stability of place, opting for permanent enclosure in cells often attached to churches. Also unlike hermits, anchorites were subject to a religious rite of consecration that closely resembled the funeral rite, following which they would be considered dead to the world and a type of living saint. Anchorites had a certain autonomy, as they did not answer to any ecclesiastical authority other than the bishop.[3]

From the 12th to the 16th centuries, female anchorites consistently outnumbered their male counterparts, sometimes by as many as four to one (in the 13th century) which eventually dropped to two to one (in the 15th century).[5] The sex of a high number of anchorites, however, is not recorded for these periods.[6]

The anchoritic life became widespread during the early and high Middle Ages.[8] Examples of the dwellings of anchorites and anchoresses survive, a large number of which are in England. They tended to be a simple cell (also called anchorhold) built against one of the walls of the local village church.[9] In Germanic-speaking areas, from at least the tenth century it was customary for the bishop to say the Office of the Dead as the anchorite entered their cell, to signify the anchorite's death to the world and rebirth to a spiritual life of solitary communion with God and the angels. Sometimes, if the anchorite was walled up inside the cell, the bishop would put his seal upon the wall to stamp it with his authority. Some anchorites, however, freely moved between their cells and the adjoining churches.[10]

Most anchoritic strongholds were small, perhaps at most 3.7 to 4.6 m (12 to 15 ft) square, with three windows. Viewing the altar, hearing Mass, and receiving the Eucharist were possible through one small, shuttered window in the common wall facing the sanctuary, called a "hagioscope" or "squint". Anchorites provided spiritual advice and counsel to visitors through these windows, gaining a reputation for wisdom.[11] Another small window allowed access to those who saw to the anchorite's physical needs. A third window, often facing the street but covered with translucent cloth, allowed light into the cell.[3]

Anchorites committed to a life of uncompromising enclosure. Those who considered leaving possibly believed their souls might be damned for spiritual dereliction.[12]: 93 [a] Some refused to leave their cells even when pirates or looters were pillaging their towns and consequently burned to death when the church was torched.[13] They ate frugal meals, spending their days both in contemplative prayer and interceding on behalf of others. Their body waste was managed using a chamber pot.[14]Some anchorholds had a few small rooms or attached gardens. Servants tended to the basic needs of anchorites, providing food and water and removing waste. Julian of Norwich, for example, is known to have had several maidservants, among them Sara and Alice. Aelred of Rievaulx wrote an anchorite rule book, c. 1161, for his recluse sister titled De Institutione Inclusarum;[15] in it, he suggested keeping no housemates other than an older woman, to act as companion and doorkeeper, and a young maid as domestic servant.[16]

honestly? with the garden, not that bad, for the time

there was one 1945-1990!

Following a private audience with Venerable Pope Pius XII, Crotta was invited into the Camaldolese monastery in Rome on November 21, 1945 to live as a "recluse" or lay anchoress. She then took the name Maria-Nazarena of Jesus.[3]

Nazarena was to remain in a secluded cell in that monastery, leading a strict ascetic regime for the rest of her life, hearing Mass through a grille and receiving her food and messages from the Mother Superior and the other nuns through a slot in the door to her cell. She spoke to no one directly, except once a year, when she spoke to the priest who served as her spiritual director. Those meetings could last an entire day, during which she would talk for hours.

she was from connecticut!