Session 11: "Be Not Lax" — Hildegard's Prophetic Witness

Session 11 — St. Hildegard of Bingen

"Be Not Lax" — Hildegard's Prophetic Witness

Opening Prayer

LEADER: Let us begin by asking the Holy Spirit to be with us tonight.

ALL: Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love.

LEADER: Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created.

ALL: And you shall renew the face of the earth.

LEADER: O God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit did instruct the hearts of the faithful,

ALL: Grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever rejoice in His consolation, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

LEADER: Tonight we sit again with St. Hildegard, the German nun who wrote letters to popes telling them to do their jobs. Lord, give us her courage. When we see corruption in the household of the faith, do not let us be silent because we are afraid.

ALL: St. Hildegard of Bingen, pray for us. Amen.

Scripture Assignments

Assign each passage to a woman in the group before beginning.

Passage 1: Jeremiah 1:4-10
Passage 2: Ezekiel 33:1-9
Passage 3: Matthew 23:1-12
Passage 4: Revelation 2:1-7

Who Was This Woman?

Last week we met St. Hildegard as the visionary, the composer, the seer of the Living Light. Tonight we meet her in a different mode — the mode that earned her, in her own century, the title Sibyl of the Rhine, after the prophetesses of the ancient world whose words shook empires.

She was, by Catholic standards, a strange figure. A woman, in a century that did not let women teach in cathedrals. A nun, in an era when nuns were generally cloistered and silent. A theologian without a degree, in a century when the university was just beginning to define what theological credentials meant. By every cultural marker of her time, St. Hildegard should not have been heard. And yet she was — by popes, by emperors, by bishops, by abbots — because what she had to say was true, and she said it without softening.

She wrote, by the end of her life, more than three hundred letters that have survived. They went to four popes, two emperors of the Holy Roman Empire, numerous archbishops, abbots, abbesses, kings, queens, and ordinary parish priests. Many of those letters are gentle, full of counsel and encouragement. Many of them are not. When St. Hildegard saw something wrong in the Church — corruption in a monastery, laxity in a bishop, simony among the clergy, abuse of office, or the slow drift of Christian leaders away from the Gospel — she wrote. She named names. She quoted Scripture. She delivered the voice of God in the first person: thus says the Living Light. And she did not soften it.

She traveled. This is one of the most remarkable facts about her, and one most Catholics never hear. In an age when nuns did not leave their cloisters, St. Hildegard undertook four major preaching tours through the Rhineland and beyond. She preached publicly in the cathedrals of Mainz, Würzburg, Bamberg, Trier, Metz, Cologne, and other cities. She preached to clergy who had not been preached to by a woman ever before in their lives. She preached against the corruption she was seeing in the German Church — clerical concubinage, the buying and selling of Church offices, the laxity of abbots and bishops who had grown comfortable and were no longer doing the work — and she did it with the formal blessing of the Pope. Pope St. Eugenius III had authorized her writings; subsequent popes maintained that authorization. St. Hildegard preached on apostolic authority. Whether the clergy who heard her liked it or not, they could not silence her.

The center of her prophetic witness can be captured in one Latin phrase that recurs throughout her letters: Nolite esse tepidi. Be not lukewarm. She is quoting Christ Himself in His letter to the church at Laodicea — I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spit you out of My mouth — and she is applying it directly to the Church of her own time. She saw an institutional Church that had begun to coast. That had begun to compromise. That had begun to confuse comfort with peace and tolerate sin in its own household. And she would not let it go uncorrected.

She died in 1179. The Church she had spent her life critiquing eventually canonized her, eight hundred and thirty-three years later, and named her a Doctor. The Holy Spirit, it turns out, has a long memory, and the words of His prophets are not erased by the silence of the institutions they critique.

That is the woman we are sitting with tonight. Not the gentle visionary. The Sibyl of the Rhine. The woman who told the Church the truth about itself and could not be made to stop.

Teaching Block 1 — The Prophetic Vocation

Most Catholics have a vague idea what a prophet is, and most of those ideas are wrong. A prophet, in the Catholic tradition, is not primarily a person who predicts the future. A prophet is a person who speaks for God — who carries the words of God, in a particular moment, to a particular community, often to call that community back to fidelity. The Old Testament prophets sometimes saw the future, but the bulk of what they did was speak in the present — addressing the kings, the priests, and the people of their own day with words they could not have said on their own authority, but which were urgently necessary for their hearers to hear.

The pattern of the prophetic vocation is the same across the Bible. Read what God says to Jeremiah at his calling.

And the word of the Lord came to me, saying: "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. And before you went forth from the womb, I sanctified you. And I made you a prophet to the nations." And I said: "Alas, alas, alas, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am a boy." And the Lord said to me: "Do not choose to say, 'I am a boy.' For you shall go forth to everyone to whom I will send you. And you shall speak all that I will command you. You should not be afraid before their face. For I am with you, so that I may deliver you," says the Lord. And the Lord put forth his hand, and he touched my mouth. And the Lord said to me: "Behold, I have placed my words in your mouth. Behold, today I have appointed you over nations and over kingdoms, so that you may root up, and pull down, and destroy, and scatter, and so that you may build and plant."
Jeremiah 1:4-10 — CPDV

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah's response is the response of nearly every prophet at the moment of his calling — Ah, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth. He gives the same excuse most of us give when God calls us to do something hard. I am not qualified. I am too young. I am the wrong person. And God responds with a sentence the Catholic tradition has carried for three thousand years: Do not say, I am only a youth, for to all to whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Be not afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you.

This is the prophetic vocation in its purest form. Whatever I command you, you shall speak. Be not afraid of them. The prophet does not choose what to say. The prophet does not choose the audience. The prophet is sent — and the prophet's job is to deliver, faithfully and without flinching, what has been given. The fear of the audience does not negate the call. The unwillingness of the prophet does not negate the call. The call is from God, and the consequences of refusing it are heavier than the consequences of obeying it.

St. Hildegard knew this. She had refused her own call for years and had become physically ill as a result. When she finally accepted the command to write down what she was seeing, the illness lifted. She had learned, the hard way, that the prophetic vocation is not optional once it has been given. You do the work or you suffer until you do.

But here is what we have to see clearly: the prophetic vocation is not reserved for biblical prophets. It is given, in different forms and degrees, to every member of the Church through baptism. The Catholic tradition teaches that every baptized Christian shares in the threefold office of Christ — priest, prophet, and king. The priestly office is exercised most fully in the ordained ministry, but is shared by every baptized person in the offering of prayer, work, and suffering. The kingly office is exercised in self-governance and care for others. And the prophetic office — the office of speaking for God — is exercised whenever a baptized Christian, in his or her particular vocation, speaks the truth God has given them to speak, to whomever needs to hear it.

This is the formal Catholic teaching. Every baptized woman in this room shares in the prophetic office of Christ. The question is not whether you have it. You have it. The question is whether you are exercising it — whether you are willing, when the moment comes, to speak the truth that needs to be spoken, to your husband, your child, your parish, your bishop, your friend, your culture, your own self in the mirror.

St. Hildegard exercised hers. She did so at scale. Most Catholic women are called to exercise it at a much smaller scale — in conversations, in letters, in the witness of a life — but the office is the same.

Discussion Question 1: Every baptized Catholic shares in the prophetic office of Christ — the office of speaking for God. Most Catholic women have never thought of themselves as prophets, but you are one by baptism. Where in your life right now is God calling you to speak a truth you have been avoiding speaking — to your husband, your child, your parish, a friend, your culture, your own heart — and what is the Ah, Lord God, I am only a youth you have been using as your excuse?

Teaching Block 2 — The Watchman's Warning

There is a passage in the prophet Ezekiel that the Church has read for two thousand years as the most pointed statement of the prophetic responsibility, and Catholic women need to read it with attention because it names a weight that most modern Catholic culture has tried to talk us out of.

And the word of the Lord came to me, saying: "Son of man, speak to the sons of your people, and you shall say to them: Concerning the land, when I will have led the sword over it: if the people of the land take a man, one of their least, and appoint him over themselves as a watchman, and if he sees the sword approaching over the land, and he sounds the trumpet, and he announces to the people, then, having heard the sound of the trumpet, whoever he is, if he also does not take care of himself, and the sword arrives and takes him: his blood will be upon his own head. He heard the sound of the trumpet, and he did not take care of himself, so his blood will be upon him. But if he guards himself, he will save his own life. And if the watchman sees the sword approaching, and he does not sound the trumpet, and so the people do not guard themselves, and the sword arrives and takes some of their lives, certainly these have been taken due to their own iniquity. But I will attribute their blood to the hand of the watchman. And as for you, son of man, I have made you a watchman to the house of Israel. Therefore, having heard the word from my mouth, you shall announce it to them from me. When I say to the impious, 'O impious man, you will die a death,' if you have not spoken so that the impious man will keep himself from his way, then that impious man will die in his iniquity. But I will attribute his blood to your hand. But if you have announced to the impious man, so that he may be converted from his ways, and he has not converted from his way, then he will die in his iniquity. Yet you will have freed your own soul.
Ezekiel 33:1-9 — CPDV

Read it carefully. God tells Ezekiel that the prophet is like a watchman set over the city. The watchman's job is to see the danger coming — the enemy army on the horizon — and to sound the trumpet so that the people can prepare. If the watchman sees the danger and sounds the trumpet, his job is done; whoever then refuses to listen is responsible for his own destruction. But if the watchman sees the sword coming and does not blow the trumpet, so that the people are not warned, and the sword comes and takes any one of them; that person is taken away in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at the watchman's hand.

Stop and feel the weight of that sentence. The watchman who sees the danger and does not sound the trumpet bears responsibility for what happens to the people he did not warn. God will require their blood from his hand.

This is the most uncomfortable Catholic teaching about the prophetic vocation, and most modern Catholic preaching avoids it. The reason is not hard to understand. We have been formed by a culture that treats judgment and warning as inherently uncharitable, and tolerance and affirmation as the only forms of love. The Catholic tradition has never agreed. The Catholic tradition has always held that the greatest possible failure of love is to watch a soul walking toward destruction and say nothing. The watchman who sounds no trumpet is not being kind. He is being culpable.

St. Hildegard understood this. When she wrote letters to bishops about their failure to discipline their clergy, she was sounding the trumpet. When she preached in cathedrals about the simony eating away at the German Church, she was sounding the trumpet. When she traveled, in her sixties and seventies, across the Rhineland to deliver in person what the Holy Spirit had given her, she was sounding the trumpet. She did not enjoy doing it. She did not seek the conflict. She did it because she had been set on the wall, and the danger was real, and the silence of other watchmen did not relieve her of her own responsibility.

And Christ Himself, in His public ministry, sounded the trumpet. Read what He said to the religious leaders of His own day.

Then Jesus spoke to the crowds, and to his disciples, saying: "The scribes and the Pharisees have sat down in the chair of Moses. Therefore, all things whatsoever that they shall say to you, observe and do. Yet truly, do not choose to act according to their works. For they say, but they do not do. For they bind up heavy and unbearable burdens, and they impose them on men's shoulders. But they are not willing to move them with even a finger of their own. Truly, they do all their works so that they may be seen by men. For they enlarge their phylacteries and glorify their hems. And they love the first places at feasts, and the first chairs in the synagogues, and greetings in the marketplace, and to be called Master by men. But you must not be called Master. For One is your Master, and you are all brothers. And do not choose to call anyone on earth your father. For One is your Father, who is in heaven. Neither should you be called teachers. For One is your Teacher, the Christ. Whoever is greater among you shall be your minister. But whoever has exalted himself, shall be humbled. And whoever has humbled himself, shall be exalted.
Matthew 23:1-12 — CPDV

This is not gentle Jesus. This is Christ at His most prophetic, addressing scribes and Pharisees who had taken the seat of authority in Israel and were misusing it — loading heavy burdens on the people, performing piety for show, loving the places of honor at banquets, taking titles they did not deserve. They preach but do not practice... They do all their deeds to be seen by others. And He goes on, in the rest of the chapter, to deliver seven woes — formal prophetic indictments — against them by name.

The same Jesus who said blessed are the merciful also said woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites. The Catholic tradition has always held these together. Mercy and warning are not opposites; they are two faces of the same love. The Christ who weeps over Jerusalem also overturns the tables in the Temple. The St. Hildegard who saw the Living Light in every creature also wrote letters telling abbots they would answer to God for their laxity. Catholic love includes the watchman's trumpet. A faith that has lost the willingness to sound it has not become more loving. It has become quieter, which is not the same thing.

Discussion Question 2: Ezekiel says the watchman who sees danger and does not sound the trumpet bears responsibility for the deaths he did not prevent. Most modern Catholic women have been formed to avoid warning others — out of politeness, out of fear of being seen as judgmental, out of a culture that calls warning unkind. Where in your life have you been a silent watchman — seeing something dangerous in someone you love and saying nothing? And what would it look like, this week, to begin to sound the trumpet, even quietly?

Teaching Block 3 — The Letters to the Churches

There is one more text we must read tonight, because it is the text that proves the prophetic vocation does not end with the closing of the canon of the Old Testament prophets. It continues into the New Testament, and into the Church itself.

"And to the Angel of the Church of Ephesus write: Thus says the One who holds the seven stars in his right hand, who walks in the midst of the seven golden lampstands: I know your works, and your hardship and patient endurance, and that you cannot stand those who are evil. And so, you have tested those who declare themselves to be Apostles and are not, and you have found them to be liars. And you have patient endurance for the sake of my name, and you have not fallen away. But I have this against you: that you have relinquished your first charity. And so, call to mind the place from which you have fallen, and do penance, and do the first works. Otherwise, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent. But this you have, that you hate the deeds of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate. Whoever has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the Churches. To him who prevails, I will give to eat from the Tree of Life, which is in the Paradise of my God.
Revelation 2:1-7 — CPDV

This is the opening of the book of Revelation's letters to the seven churches of Asia Minor — and we are reading the first one, the letter to the church at Ephesus. The pattern is the same in all seven: Christ addresses the church by its angel, names what He sees that is good, names what He sees that is wrong, and calls the church to repent. I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember then from what you have fallen, repent and do the works you did at first.

Stop and notice what is happening. The risen, glorified Christ — the same Christ who Mary Magdalene met in the garden, the same Christ who is now in heaven interceding for us — is sending letters to His Church. He is praising. He is warning. He is calling to repentance. He is naming specific sins and specific failures in specific Christian communities, by name, and demanding that they change. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

The Catholic tradition has always read these letters as a permanent witness to the fact that Christ continues to speak prophetically to His own Church, in every age, through the mouths of His prophets. The letters to the seven churches are not just historical documents about first-century Christianity. They are the model of how Christ relates to His Church across history. When the Church is faithful, He praises. When the Church drifts, He warns. When the Church refuses to repent, He acts.

And the prophetic voice through which He often speaks is not the voice of the institutional hierarchy. It is the voice of the saints — and disproportionately, in Christian history, the voice of the women saints. St. Catherine of Siena would write letters to Pope Gregory XI demanding that he leave Avignon and return to Rome, and he obeyed. St. Teresa of Ávila would, against the wishes of her own order, undertake the reform of Carmel. St. Joan of Arc would tell the Dauphin of France what God wanted him to do, and France was saved. St. Hildegard would write a letter to the Pope and the Pope would listen.

The pattern is consistent enough that the Catholic tradition has recognized it as a permanent feature of how the Holy Spirit governs the Church. The Church is reformed, one ancient saying goes, by the saints. When the institution falters — when the clergy grow lax, when the bishops grow comfortable, when the people drift into mediocrity — God does not abandon the Church. He raises up prophets, often from unexpected places, often in the form of women whose voices the institution did not expect to hear, to call the Church back. Every Catholic woman in this room is, by baptism, a member of that prophetic body. Not every woman is called to be a Hildegard or a Catherine. But every woman is called to carry her share of the prophetic responsibility — to speak the truth in her own life, to her own community, in the small or large ways the Holy Spirit gives her.

The Church needs this. The Church has always needed this. In our own moment, the Church needs women who are willing to do for the twenty-first century what St. Hildegard did for the twelfth — to see clearly, to speak honestly, to refuse to be silenced by either the world or, sometimes, by the institutional Church itself when the institutional Church grows lax. The prophetic vocation of the baptized woman is not a hobby. It is one of the ways God keeps His Church from sliding into ruin.

Discussion Question 3: The Catholic Church has always been reformed, in part, by its saints — and disproportionately by women saints with the courage to speak. Most of us were not raised to think of ourselves as having any responsibility for the state of the Church beyond our own personal practice. What is one thing in your parish, your diocese, your wider Church experience that you have seen and stayed silent about — and what would it cost you to begin, in small ways, to be part of its reform?

This Week

Identify one truth God has given you that you have been avoiding speaking, and speak it this week — to the one person who needs to hear it. It does not have to be a sermon. It can be a single sentence, said with love, at the right moment. I have been worried about you. I want to talk to you about something. I have been praying about this, and I want to tell you what I see.

If the person you need to speak to is yourself — if the truth God has given you is about your own life — write it down this week, in your own handwriting, and put it somewhere you will see it daily for a month.

And, separately: identify one situation in your parish or wider Church life where you have seen something wrong and stayed silent. Pray about it this week. Ask the Holy Spirit whether He is calling you to be a watchman for it — and, if so, what the faithful first step would be.

St. Hildegard preached publicly in cathedrals when she was sixty. You probably will not have to do that. But the prophetic vocation she lived is the same one you have been given by baptism. The Holy Spirit knows where He wants to use you. Be willing.

Closing Prayer

Gather prayer requests and close out.