The Slow Way: Hildegard and the "Greening Power of God"
In our suffering, in our sorrow, in the parts of our lives that look hopeless, there is the "greening power of God" right there beside us, inviting us toward wholeness.
This summer was difficult for a lot of reasons I can’t share here, except to say two people I love suffered deeply in ways I couldn’t change or help. As as so often the case in loving another human, all I could do was show up and be present. Sometimes showing up in a time of grief and suffering feels like enough. This time it didn’t.
And as is the case when people suffer, pain rarely resolves. Life is too complicated for a simplicity like that. Grief and struggle are the way of humanity, and as one of my favorite old Waterdeep songs says, “I’m amazed by life and it’s amazed by me / It’s a long hard road with a good good end.” I’ve been listening to that song lately, claiming the goodness of that sort of hope, like the little banner that hangs in my entryway—“all things new.”
Meanwhile, we’re moving toward fall, when all things are not new. They’re old. The leaves are losing their green, beginning the process of releasing their grip from their life source. It’s an old ache; it’s beautiful. The tree I stare at every morning from my porch has already been showing tips of red on its leaves, erupting berries from its branches that my neighborhood squirrels are working overtime to gather. There’s no holding on to the green of summer.
That’s why I think it’s interesting that the feast day for Hildegard of Bingen is next week, September 17. Of all the saints who should be celebrated in fall, it doesn’t seem that Hildegard—the mystic who wrote about “Veriditas, or the ‘greening power’ of the Divine—should be the one.
This week, one of my favorite authors writing about Christian spirituality, Shannon K. Evans, releases her new book The Mystics Would Like a Word. In her book, which I highly recommend, Shannon writes about six female mystics and what their ancient teaching has for us right now when it comes to mental health, sex and the body, the contemplative life, and even environmental justice.
Of the six women Shannon considers, Hildegard is the mystic I knew the least about before reading this book. Born in 1098, Hildegard wasn’t canonized until a millennium later in 2012, mostly because she’s gotten a bad rap. Her writings, and I assume her presence, made a lot of people (read: men) uncomfortable. So much so that she has been called a “witch, pagan, or dissident.” After all, Shannon writes, “she concocted ‘magical’ herbal remedies, healed ailing bodies with crystals, and openly defied the authority of bishops and other male clergy…she was and is a dangerous woman in a certain sense of the word, for the combination of female brilliance, self-trust, and confident voice.”
Hildegard was a cloistered nun living under the Rule of St. Benedict (my first book Found explores Benedict and his rule if you’re interested in learning more). And she was the kind of woman who stepped into her power at mid-life, according to Shannon. A woman who found her voice as a mystic and leader and then flourished with productivity.
This week as I’ve continued to pray for and walk alongside these people I love who are suffering and seeking to move forward, I have thought a lot about Hildegard and her sacramental way of seeing all things as interconnected, “the material and the spiritual” as “two sides of the same coin.” As Shannon writes, “Matter, flesh, earth: anything that her senses could process contained and communicated God,” St. Hildegard regarded with “deepest reverence.”
Hildegard called this interconnectedness of all things “Veriditas.” As Shannon describes it, “Veriditas is the ‘greening power’ of the Divine.” It’s the “the force of the Spirit that is actively moving all things—including you and me, just as much as the earth itself—toward wholeness. Viriditas is a becoming. The greening power of God means that nothing is final; everything is in motion, everything is in process.”
Those of you who’ve read my most recent book, Blessed Are The Rest of Us, will know that I believe the movement toward wholeness is the vision Jesus had (and has) for the world, that I believe his poem about “blessing” found in Matthew 5 is actually a poem about wholeness, what it means to lean into the flourishing life in the midst of weakness, heartache, suffering, and longing.
What is that wholeness? What does it look like? Hildegard said it’s most clearly understood in the natural world. According to Shannon, “The greening power of God means that nothing is final; everything is in motion, everything is in process. It means that the very forces of creation, rebirth, and fertility that keep the earth in motion are also living and active inside of us, because the greening power of God dwells within each of us. We are constantly being reborn, constantly being reimagined, and the earth plays that cycle out before our eyes as a way of bearing witness. . . It all holds, because we are all held.”
I get all melancholy in the fall, knowing what’s coming here in the Northeast. The hibernation of the garden I’ve tended for the past six months. The coming relentless reality of ice and cold. The reminders I see all around me that I can’t slow time. I can’t stay in the freedom and delight of summer. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Hildegard, whose vision of God’s work in the world is cyclical, who never gave easy answers to the question of suffering, but only pointed to hope.
The greening power of God is a sacramental vision that invites us to welcome the ache of being human, not because of some twisted sense that we deserve to suffer, but because we can believe that “it’s a long hard road with a good good end.” And that the ever-changing nature of the natural world is an invitation to us to see our lives as part of a great and inefficient transformation. God has never been fast in the ways we are changed; and God has always been changing us.
In our suffering, in our sorrow, in the parts of our lives that look hopeless, there is the Veriditas right there beside us, inviting us toward wholeness. Because the greening power of the Divine is always at work even when the leaves fall, even when the afternoon light fades. Thanks for that, Hildegard.
A Slow Practice
I’m imagining most of my readers are not Catholic, so most of us don’t keep or acknowledge saints days. But over the next week and a half, until the Feast of St. Hildegard, I’m inviting you to keep her story at the forefront of your mind.
September looks different wherever you live in North America. Here in Jersey, the air has shifted and mornings are much cooler than they were even two weeks ago. Some of you may still be sweating profusely when you step outside. Some of you (I’m thinking of my beloved San Francisco!) may only now be getting the warmth that was absent in the summer months.
Whatever the natural world looks like around you, I’m inviting you to pay attention. Ask yourself what it means for you to notice “God’s greening power” in the world around you. Go for a walk this week. Take your earbuds out. Listen and watch. What is happening in the trees? What are the squirrels gathering where you are?
And as you walk ask yourself what ways God is moving you toward wholeness? What does that mean to you? What is changing in your life right now? What do you long for God to do for you and the people you love?
Here’s a breath prayer, taken from Shannon’s beautiful words, you can use as you walk and pay attention.
Breathe in: Everything is in motion
Breathe out: Everything is in process.
Breathe in: You love this world, O Lord.
Breathe out: You love me, O Lord.
Breathe in: All things are being made new.
Breathe out: You are moving the world toward wholeness.
Breathe in: The ones I love (feel free to use names here) are being made whole.
Breathe out: I am being made whole.
Amen.
A Few Notes:
Thanks for your patience as I’ve taken a break from writing for you weekly. Stay tuned for more announcements about The Slow Way Letter and Podcast over the next couple of weeks. Excited to share what’s next.
I highly recommend The Mystics Would Like a Word. You can find it here or wherever books are sold THIS TUESDAY!
Another gorgeous book about Hildegard is God's Hotel: A Doctor, a Hospital and a Pilgrimage to the Heart of Medicine
Show quoted text
My wife and I are looking forward to receiving our copy of Shannon's book this week! I definitely enjoy reading about the lives of mystic saints.
The walking prayer you relate here is similar to a simple one I use: breathe in with "I in Thee" and out with "Thou in me." I can even use it when jogging, matching the rhythm with my footsteps rather than the breath.
The line, “it’s a long hard road with a good good end" is a nice way of putting difficulties and suffering in context. I wrote a couple posts about this recently on my Substack that looks at such questions through the lens of writing fiction, where good stories (and their authors) are actually obligated to inflict suffering upon the characters. When a character doesn't know how the story will end, and especially when their view of the purpose of life differs from what the author wants for them, then yeah, there's suffering. See https://kiranblackwell.substack.com/p/characters-who-dont-know-the-end-part-1?r=2pm8fx and https://kiranblackwell.substack.com/p/characters-who-dont-know-how-the?r=2pm8fx.