Saint Kilian (or Cilian, originally in Gaelic Ceallach, 640-689) was an Irish missionary bishop who brought the Faith to central Europe, Franconia, now part of northern Bavaria, which is still more or less staunchly Catholic. It’s where Josef Ratzinger hailed, who is in his memoirs describes the vibrant culture of his upbringing which nourished his own faith. The saint himself was from what is now county Cavan, in the north of Ireland, known for its many lakes (or loughs).
After his initial monastic formation, at least partly at the abbey in Iona set up by Saint Columbkille the century prior, Kilian traveled with a suitably numbered eleven companions to Rome, to receive his missionary mandate from the short-reigned Pope Conon (he reigned from 686-687, just one month shy of a year).
Kilian’s missionary efforts in Franconia proved fruitful, and the Duke Gozbert was converted, along with many of his people. Some, alas, clung to their pagan ways, including Gozbert’s ‘wife’, Geilana, who had originally been married to his brother. Like Saint John the Baptist, Kilian rebuked the Duke for this illicit union, advice which he may have taken to heart. However, while away on a military endeavour, Geilana ordered Kilian’s murder, which a few pagan courtiers were happy to carry out.
Hence, Kilian, along with two companions, Colman and Toman, were beheaded, and hailed as martyrs. Burchard, the first bishop of the region (Wurzburg) built a cathedral on the spot of their death. That building burned down, and a glorious new one constructed in the 11th century, which still stands, and which still holds the heads of the three saints, encrusted with gems, in the high altar, in a golden reliquary.
Saint Kilian is celebrated in his home town on this day (at least, according to what sources I could discern) in what is called a ‘pattern’. These were festivals held in various villages on the Sundays nearest to the feast of a local patron saint, often outside the British penal laws, which forbade the Faith. They included singing, celebration and, yes, some drinking and dancing, as is the Irish way. I’ve always wondered what a ‘pattern dance’ was, which comes up in the lyrics for the Star of the County Down, a favorite in our own college ‘music night’ repertoire, and now I do:
At the pattern dance, she’ll be in a trance, as she skips through a jig or a reel.
Alas, over the years, the celebrations became a bit over-the-top, and bit too tipsy for the likings of the local bishops, and the revelers ordered to cease and desist. Hence, along with the loss of Faith in the Emerald Isle, they’ve faded. But, as said, perhaps they still exist here and there, with fitting and more temperate festivity.
May Saint Kilian and his companions bring that Faith back to Ireland, and to Bavaria, and across Europe, with all of the truth, beauty and joy thereof. Also, we pray for anyone named Kilian, including the actor Cilian Murphy, who played Oppenheimer in a recent biopic, a film fraught, so I’ve heard, with immoral scenes, alas. I recall another of his films where in the opening scene he wandered around, apparently having forgotten to put on his trousers. Perhaps he’d imbibed a tad too much at a pattern dance. Cave videntium –et bibentium.
Would that we could return to a full Catholic culture! We so often know not what we do, nor what we’re missing.
As Hilaire Belloc put it in his lapidary manner, Europe is the Faith, and the Faith is Europe.
