Thomas

This Sunday is the feast of the Holy Family, the first Sunday after Christmas, but it is also the day the Church commemorates the life and martyrdom of St Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. I have spent the last few years researching his life and the fruit of that labour will appear next year in a new biography which, I hope, will reintroduce this extraordinary man to contemporary Catholics. As you know I have already published a book of devotions to St Thomas (see margins of the blog for details). A few thoughts on him today, if you don't mind.

I have been reading and studying the life of St Thomas for years. It was through the liturgy that I first came to know about him - in the days of Christmas he stood out from among the more Biblical feasts and occupied what seemed to be the romantic era of the Middle Ages. His story fascinated me, and the more I read the more I wanted to get to know him and understand the events and people around him. Like many Catholics I looked at Henry II with a skewed eye, the man who killed a saint. But the more I read I saw that things were not so simple. Thomas was a complicated man, Henry too; and bishops of the Church had a hand in creating the mess that led to blood being spilt on the paving stones of Canterbury cathedral. And then there was the pope and his issues which muddied the waters further.

When I went to seminary, among my friends, I found another who had a great love for Thomas and for his namesake and fellow martyr, St Thomas More. The two of us would parse the aspects of his life admiringly and this increased the hunger to get to know more about the man and his time. Visits to Canterbury followed after ordination. Delving into the lives written after his martyrdom, I saw that sometimes they were a little too hagiographical and not objective enough. This was balanced by Frank Barlow's fine biography, meticulously researched even if a bit all over the place in the writing. However, Barlow was a gift because he balanced the hagiographies - as they praised Thomas, Barlow revealed that he was not so inclined to like the archbishop, though he respected him and was equally fascinated by his life. More contemporary biographies and histories go further than Barlow in their dislike, blaming Thomas for his own misfortune (not entirely untrue). In researching for the book, I found the ultimate negative opinion, an MA thesis in which its author was livid in her disdain for the archbishop. 

In 2012 the historiography for Becket scholarship was enhanced by John Guy's marvellous biography. From the first few pages it was obvious Guy loved Thomas and saw him as a rebel and a warrior (not untrue either). Guy's book is a romping read, but well researched and engrossing; it came as no surprise when it proved to be a bestseller. He also provided a corrective in an age when historians cast a jaundiced eye on the Becket affair. That negativity against Thomas emerged as the secularism took hold: a Catholic bishop striking out at a legitimate monarch smacked too much of ecclesiastical dictatorship. Of course the Reformation view of Thomas was always there - Henry VIII despised Thomas and attempted to decanonise him; Thomas defended the Church and her liberties from a king who wanted to control it, the parallels with the Tudor's king's ambitions were all too clear.  Today, in an age which is very much influenced by socialism which sees the state as the supreme authority, the idea of an autonomous organisation within the state challenging the state, would be considered anathema. 

Another reason for this negativity was an appreciation of the work of Henry II. Fervent Catholics traditionally took sides in the row between Henry and Thomas, demonising the king as one who persecuted a good bishop. However, once again, the historical reality was not as simple as that. Henry did go off the rails as the dispute wore on, but the extraordinary nature of this monarch has to be acknowledged. He gifted England with a fine judicial system, and though often a slave to his passions, he sought to bring stability to a country torn apart by civil war. He was also a man who had difficulties in maintaining close relationships. His marriage, for example, descended into a state of war. He had married one of the most remarkable and independent women in Medieval Europe, Eleanor of Aquitaine; if he thought he could control her, he was foolish. Their marriage was doomed from the start, both were too wilful though, in the early years, they accommodated each other. Henry's relationship with Thomas was close and successful. Thomas, ever the diplomat, knew how far he could go with Henry and managed to provide some stability. When that relationship broke down, things got very nasty because the dispute was so personal.

Thomas was no saint himself. Hagiographers like to make much of his conversion from a life of ambition and leisure, but again, the reality is not so simple. He was a man who was ambitious and he liked nice things, but there was always a sense of the pious about him. His mother had a huge influence on his life and the faith and charity she taught him remained in him. He was not promiscuous as some accounts would have us believe, indeed he may well have remained chaste all his life - we know very little about his student years in Paris, but certainly from the time he returned to London up to his death he was chaste. He never imitated Henry's promiscuity, though the king tried to tempt him, and Thomas disapproved of Henry's own trysts. In his battles with Henry, Thomas behaved admirably and appallingly, he was courageous and petty, angry and charitable. As the dispute worn on virtue seems to have overcome the flaws, and as the prospect of martyrdom loomed (he had an awareness for some time before he returned to England in 1170 of how he was to die), he abandoned himself to God and offered himself as a sacrifice to bring the dispute to an end and defend the Church.

I have tried to capture all that in the book; you, the readers, will have to decide if I have been successful. However, I hope that Thomas of Canterbury, as he would prefer to be known, will impress himself on you and you will see, not only the extraordinary nature of the man with all his faults, failures and virtues, but also a man who has much to say to us today in the difficulties we as people of faith now face. Thomas is a saint for our times. A flesh and blood human being trying to cope with what was a noble, albeit complicated, cause, trying to do what was right and stay true to God, his Church and the promises he made on the day he was consecrated archbishop.

For those who might fear Thomas, his posthumous life should set you at ease. As king, bishops and barons tried to come to terms with Thomas's life and death, the martyred archbishop was reaching out to the ordinary faithful of the Church. The first miracle occurred on the evening of the martyrdom and was followed by a outpouring of graces, most of them for ordinary people. Thomas as saint became the advocate for the little ones - the very people he was actually defending in seeking to preserve the liberties of the Church. King, bishops, barons and clerics were confused as they observed God's response to Thomas's life and death, but the faithful were not - they found a champion, an intercessor and a friend. So too for us in these times. There will be many for whom Thomas is controversial, too extreme, a man to be critiqued; but for the ordinary faithful he can continue to be a pastor in heaven who still carries out his pastoral ministry among those who turn to him. 

A final note - something I discovered as I was researching his life and touched me as a priest. Thomas fostered a deep love for the Mass. After he was consecrated bishop, he would offer Mass with great devotion and care; he was vigilant in observing the rubrics. Though priests are encouraged to offer Mass every day nowadays, Thomas didn't; he feared that if he became too familiar with it he might become lax, but he attended Mass on those days he didn't offer it. He might have been too careful there, but it reveals something about his personality which can be forgotten: he exercised the greatest prudence and respect when it came to sacred things - that was an attitude he fostered all his life, even in the days when he was nurturing his ambitions. 

I hope you will get to know Thomas, if you do not know him already. You will find him a good friend and wise guide. He has much to say to us today.