I'm guessing that (like Thomas/Didymus) there was more than meets the eye to Clement's name - de Voragine says that his name either comes from cleos-mens (glorious mind), or clementia (clemency), and of course there's such a fuzzy line when it comes to all the names from this period.
Though he was raised Roman, and very educated in philosophy, some scholars think he was of Jewish heritage (though he wasn't super familiar with Hebrew). He wrote in Greek, but was that just for his audience? So many questions.
Stunning illustrations. You are talented and so industrious and focused in your research. I get side tracked so easily. Livery companies and St Martin🙈 I’m a food writer so I suppose wine is okay. Thanks so much for this post Kristin.
Thank you so much, Fiona - it's so wonderful having a kindred spirit like you across the pond. I LOVE all of your writing (I'm looking forward to catching up today and reading your Martinmas post!!) I very much relate to the side-tracked rabbit-holes...my research pile is an absolute magpie nest!
Reading this on a day when I’m pondering, when the world is so full of suffering, what I’m supposed to do about any of it. Sometimes it’s very difficult to find God’s presence in it all. I can see God all around in nature and whimsical art like yours, but when I see toddlers in war torn countries shaking with terror or see horses being abused, I feel paralyzed by it all. If I’m being honest, a call to sainthood or martyrdom seems a terrible thing no matter how brave I’d like to be.
The call to sainthood or martyrdom seems absolutely daunting in light of all this perennial suffering. I really feel your comment here deeply. When my mom was in hospice, and I had gone back home to help during that time, I felt like I couldn't see God anywhere - when I looked at the tragedy we were going through, and then extended that visceral pain to the tragedies occurring everywhere all the time, it just felt too overwhelming. It's like I went through a spiritual paralysis, though I did catch glimpses of God's goodness out of the corner of my eye here and there.
I haven't come to a settled place in all these questions, but Sarah Clarkson's book "This Beautiful Truth" has helped me to form some more thoughts around it - to see God's presence with us through the suffering. I think this is why the lives of the saints inspire me...somehow, I feel less alone when I look at the generations past, and that they've all walked these varied paths of suffering...yet somehow, affirmed Christ's presence throughout it all (while still being human and wrestling with doubt and fear, too!)
Oh, so agree! I love reading about the saints. When the suffering is happening in a way I feel like I can help, it’s less overwhelming but all the suffering children in the world--sometimes it’s just very hard on that front. I happened to watch a talk by a doctor who used to do abortions. One time in a “failed” abortion the baby started crying. Between that and the Middle East with all the helpless children. It just got to me last week. In my own moments of suffering there have been so many blessings yet when kids suffer...
Wonderful post Kristin! Looking forward to more on St.Clement. November has been unexpectedly productive for us. Getting lots done around the house and putting things in order in hope to relax and get cozy when winter truly settles in. We have managed to take breaks and enjoy the beautiful that is fall here in the woods we live in.
I'm so glad you enjoyed, Daniel! November feels a bit like that here, too - almost like the autumnal version of spring cleaning, where I feel the itch to put things back together again.
This was so nourishing! I learned so much. I am so passionate about liturgical living and I absolutely love your work -- This was such a pleasure to read. Peace be with you! 🕊️
Oh my goodness, Syd, this just makes my day! What an absolutely incredible connection you've drawn (thank you, as always, for letting me vicariously travel with you to all these beautiful places). Now I need to dive deep into this rabbit-hole and learn more about St. Clement's Ukraine connection and the church (and the linden tree!!) It just goes to show how significant *place* can be in our attempts to understand these faith stories...regions provide so much context to our experience.
Oh my goodness, this is all such phenomenal perspective. Thank you so, so much for sharing. Would these linden varieties be the same as what we have here in the US? My mom's favorite tree in the world was a linden she grew from a small start to a towering giant over decades at the house I grew up in; all my life, and then especially after her death, that linden has felt like such a comfort to me.
I'm reminded a bit of the prevalence of yew trees and their proximity to churches in the UK...time to do some linden digging!
I my goodness, yes I *did* see your email and apologize for not getting back to you! But I owe you a message, and I sure do know your hometown - what a pleasure it is to share so many things in common, including our homeland! (I'm reminded of Ovid, by the way: "Our native soil draws all of us, by I know not what sweetness, and never allows us to forget.") Once a Montanan, always a Montanan!
We were indeed in the eastern prairie, and though I didn't commonly see linden there - mostly Russian olive and cottonwood - our linden became an absolute giant. Conical for sure! Thank you for spurring me to learn more about this precious tree!!
Also: do we think his name was literally Clement or this was like his churchy name? What language do we think he spoke when he wasn't writing?
I'm guessing that (like Thomas/Didymus) there was more than meets the eye to Clement's name - de Voragine says that his name either comes from cleos-mens (glorious mind), or clementia (clemency), and of course there's such a fuzzy line when it comes to all the names from this period.
Though he was raised Roman, and very educated in philosophy, some scholars think he was of Jewish heritage (though he wasn't super familiar with Hebrew). He wrote in Greek, but was that just for his audience? So many questions.
I'd love to hear more about whatever Greek word was translated as "peculiar" in the early quote!
I'm on it!
Stunning illustrations. You are talented and so industrious and focused in your research. I get side tracked so easily. Livery companies and St Martin🙈 I’m a food writer so I suppose wine is okay. Thanks so much for this post Kristin.
Thank you so much, Fiona - it's so wonderful having a kindred spirit like you across the pond. I LOVE all of your writing (I'm looking forward to catching up today and reading your Martinmas post!!) I very much relate to the side-tracked rabbit-holes...my research pile is an absolute magpie nest!
Great. Enjoyed this a lot.
I'm so glad you enjoyed! These saintly lives are treasure troves.
Reading this on a day when I’m pondering, when the world is so full of suffering, what I’m supposed to do about any of it. Sometimes it’s very difficult to find God’s presence in it all. I can see God all around in nature and whimsical art like yours, but when I see toddlers in war torn countries shaking with terror or see horses being abused, I feel paralyzed by it all. If I’m being honest, a call to sainthood or martyrdom seems a terrible thing no matter how brave I’d like to be.
The call to sainthood or martyrdom seems absolutely daunting in light of all this perennial suffering. I really feel your comment here deeply. When my mom was in hospice, and I had gone back home to help during that time, I felt like I couldn't see God anywhere - when I looked at the tragedy we were going through, and then extended that visceral pain to the tragedies occurring everywhere all the time, it just felt too overwhelming. It's like I went through a spiritual paralysis, though I did catch glimpses of God's goodness out of the corner of my eye here and there.
I haven't come to a settled place in all these questions, but Sarah Clarkson's book "This Beautiful Truth" has helped me to form some more thoughts around it - to see God's presence with us through the suffering. I think this is why the lives of the saints inspire me...somehow, I feel less alone when I look at the generations past, and that they've all walked these varied paths of suffering...yet somehow, affirmed Christ's presence throughout it all (while still being human and wrestling with doubt and fear, too!)
Oh, so agree! I love reading about the saints. When the suffering is happening in a way I feel like I can help, it’s less overwhelming but all the suffering children in the world--sometimes it’s just very hard on that front. I happened to watch a talk by a doctor who used to do abortions. One time in a “failed” abortion the baby started crying. Between that and the Middle East with all the helpless children. It just got to me last week. In my own moments of suffering there have been so many blessings yet when kids suffer...
Wonderful post Kristin! Looking forward to more on St.Clement. November has been unexpectedly productive for us. Getting lots done around the house and putting things in order in hope to relax and get cozy when winter truly settles in. We have managed to take breaks and enjoy the beautiful that is fall here in the woods we live in.
I'm so glad you enjoyed, Daniel! November feels a bit like that here, too - almost like the autumnal version of spring cleaning, where I feel the itch to put things back together again.
Dear Kristin, you find the richest history both helping me learn something and that enlarges my faith, thank you!
The illustration with the lamb in the center and the citrus around the edges is such a joyful painting. You amaze me.
I think it's interesting that Saint Clement's day is the same day as Thanksgiving, two celebrations dovetailing to remind us to pause and remember. 🙂
Thank you so much dear one! I'm so thankful and tickled to get to share in these common joys with you!
Your drawings are just so full of whimsy and beauty! And I love the sheep pictures.
Aw, thank you so much Annelise! They're so fun to work on.
The sheep looked extra dramatic and moody with the overcast day, but they were still sproingy little crazies. 😂
This was so nourishing! I learned so much. I am so passionate about liturgical living and I absolutely love your work -- This was such a pleasure to read. Peace be with you! 🕊️
Oh my goodness, Syd, this just makes my day! What an absolutely incredible connection you've drawn (thank you, as always, for letting me vicariously travel with you to all these beautiful places). Now I need to dive deep into this rabbit-hole and learn more about St. Clement's Ukraine connection and the church (and the linden tree!!) It just goes to show how significant *place* can be in our attempts to understand these faith stories...regions provide so much context to our experience.
Keep me posted on your Clement pudding!
Oh my goodness, this is all such phenomenal perspective. Thank you so, so much for sharing. Would these linden varieties be the same as what we have here in the US? My mom's favorite tree in the world was a linden she grew from a small start to a towering giant over decades at the house I grew up in; all my life, and then especially after her death, that linden has felt like such a comfort to me.
I'm reminded a bit of the prevalence of yew trees and their proximity to churches in the UK...time to do some linden digging!
I my goodness, yes I *did* see your email and apologize for not getting back to you! But I owe you a message, and I sure do know your hometown - what a pleasure it is to share so many things in common, including our homeland! (I'm reminded of Ovid, by the way: "Our native soil draws all of us, by I know not what sweetness, and never allows us to forget.") Once a Montanan, always a Montanan!
We were indeed in the eastern prairie, and though I didn't commonly see linden there - mostly Russian olive and cottonwood - our linden became an absolute giant. Conical for sure! Thank you for spurring me to learn more about this precious tree!!
More later via email, my friend!