Many Years Ago in England There Lived a Monk Named Athelstan

Many years ago in England there lived a monk named Athelstan. Like many monks of his time he lived a quiet life transcribing scriptures, going to daily worship and doing acts of service. It was a life of quiet faithful obedience. At the same time in history the Vikings in northern Europe discovered how to sail over to England. This would change Athelstan’s life forever.

In one of the raids, the Vikings, led by Ragnar Lothbruck, come upon the monastery that Athelstan lives in. They kill most of the monks but decide to take some of them back to Scandinavia as slaves. Athelstan is one of those people.

In his new life Athelstan slowly learns the language. His master, Ragner, and him soon begin to share stories about life in these two very different worlds. One of the areas that interest’s Athelstan is the faith of these pagans and Ragnar is more than willing to share. There’s Odin the Father of the God’s. There’s Odin’s son Thor, the hammer wielding god that strikes his the anvil, creating lightening and thunder. There is Freya, the goddess of love, fertility and war. And there are many others that Athelstan hears stories about and comes to know.

Over time he begins to wonder what he believes in. He’s so far away from the Christian world that he once lived in and now surrounded by Odin, Thor and Freya he starts to wonder. Who is the real God? Athelstan asks himself. Who is God?

1 He’s not sure.

He’s torn between two worlds, between what he was taught in the first part of his life and what he’s now experiencing right in front of him.

The things in front of him, the black crows that represent Odin, the thunder in the sky, the women’s prayers to Freya for children are more real than the distant writings of the Gospels that he once laid eyes on. And so he finds himself believing in these new gods while still somehow attached to Christ who will not let him go.

For the Vikings around him this is abhorrent. He’s constantly mocked because he’s not a true believer in their gods. And yet he participates and comes to know all the stories. It seems like he is neither a believer of Odin, Thor and Freya or Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And yet it also seems like he’s both.

How painful to sit with one foot on each side of the fence; to worship, to revere and yet to doubt at the same time.

But really isn’t this always the way it is? We suppose that we sit clearly in one camp or the other in most areas of our lives, not so much because it’s true but because it’s less difficult. It’s easier if we can create boundaries and then identify who is in and who is out. Unfortunately this seems to be the common use of the doctrine of the Trinity. It’s used as a confession of faith to distinguish between who truly believes and is a real Christian and who doesn’t and is

2 therefor not a real Christian instead of a mysterious description of the God that we each have encountered in so many ways.

Maybe if we’re honest with ourselves we straddle the fence more often than not. The disciples sure did. As they come to meet Jesus on that mountain in Galilee for the last time they are torn. They worship him but some doubt. Other translations go so far as to say they worship him and they also doubt. It seems impossible that the ones who had seen, heard and touched God in Jesus could worship and doubt simultaneously and yet they did.

We live between worship and doubt

In other words we live between acknowledging and rejecting, praising God and mocking God. We’re Peter who in one breath says “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” and in the other denies him three times. We are at once faithful disciples following Jesus to places unknown and the ones abandoning him at the cross.

At one particular point in Athelstan’s story the two worlds collide and demand from him a choice.

After years of living with the Vikings he’s so a part of their world that he goes with them to Gamla Uppsala where a festival is held every 9 years. After a few days he finds time to walk around the area and notices that there are pens of sheep, goats and chickens, each with 9 animals.

3 One of the pens is empty. “What is this empty pen for?” he asks Ragnar. “The humans,” Ragnar responds.

Athelstan, obviously disturbed by this revelation, wanders around the village that night lost in thought. One of Ragnar’s slaves invites him into her hut and begins to wash his feet and arms. Athelstan flashes back to a time when he first arrives in Scandinavia and the Earl of Kattegat dies. The Earls slave decides to be burned with him but before she goes to die the other slaves wash her arms and legs. At that moment Athelstan realizes that he’s one of the nine sacrifices.

The next day he finds himself stumbling around, trying to come to terms with his fate. He’s drawn up to the temple of Odin and the priest invites him in. As they stand in front of the huge statue of Odin with blood flowing around it the priest asks Athelstan if he has truly rejected the Christian God. “Yes I have,” he responds looking at the priest. “Do you reject your Christian God,” the priest asks again, louder. Athelstan a little less confident says, “I do.” With one last query into Athelstan’s true state of belief the priest booms, “Do you reject your Christian God?” Athelstan’s eyes drop for a moment and then with his voice shaking he says, “I do.” The priest looks at him, down at his hands and then reaches out and grabs Athelstan’s arm. Twisting it he exposes Athelstan’s cross necklace, now wrapped around his wrist and hidden from the world.

4 “We cannot sacrifice you,” the priest says gravely, “You’re an impure and unacceptable offering to the god’s.” Athelstan leaves both relieved and in deep deep turmoil. He’s overjoyed that this is not his last day but knows that he may never again truly worship either Odin, Thor, Freya or Father, Son and Holy Spirit, without the doubt that plagues his mind.

Athelstan wants to believe in the gods of the Vikings, to be a part of that world fully but even as he says no something holds onto him. Like Peter, Athelstan rejects Jesus three times and really that should be it, right? Isn’t it enough to say “No more God, I’ve decided on other things than you? I’ve decided to go with what’s real and right in front of me rather than you and the mystery and questions and trust that come with that relationship.”

Apparently it isn’t enough. We may give up on God but God does not give up on us. As the famous hymn goes “O Love that will not let me go I rest my weary soul in thee.” O Love that will not let me go. Perhaps it isn’t about us doubting or even giving up on our faith. That’s a given. Maybe it’s more that God is not willing to give up on us. “And remember, I am with you always to the end of the ages.” Amen.