Brehon Faolchair, amid the murmuring of approval from several, began to smile broadly at the point. ‘So you argue that our law, as approved by Patrick and the first Christians here, is a Christian law for it did not clash with the word of God or the Christian Gospels?’
Abbot Nannid made a cutting motion with his hand.
‘Since those days we have had more contact with the scholars of the Christian world in the east. We have sat too long beyond its borders. The scholars there have pointed out to us the errors of our early assumptions. It is to the Penitentials that we must now turn, as they have revised the old laws.’
Prior Cuan now rose, leaning on his stick, and hobbled towards the Abbot of Mungairit.
‘Errors?’ he repeated in a shaky voice. ‘Do you accuse the Blessed Patrick of error? In Muman, the Faith was even brought here before Patrick by great scholars and teachers like Ailbe who founded my own Abbey of Imleach; by Ibar, Abban, Declan and Ciaran. Were these saintly scholars in error – and were the generations of great and holy men who followed them?’
‘Yes, they were in error,’ replied the abbot, unabashed. ‘How many had time to sit and reflect on the great work ordered by Damasus, the Bishop of Rome, who commissioned Eusebius of Stridon to translate the texts in a form which the faithful priests of Christ could understand? In those scriptures you will find the laws of God, the Patriarchal Laws which the followers of the Faith must obey and not question. I presume that you, Cuan, who call yourself a scholar of the Faith, have read these laws which now must supersede the laws of the unenlightened?’
Prior Cuan chose his words carefully. ‘I have studied the texts, Abbot Nannid of Mungairit. You often quote the Old Testament rather than the teachings of the Christ. So let me ask you, what is the Old Testament to us? It is a collection of texts about the ancient people of Israel whose language and culture are barely intelligible to us, even if we have studied it. We are told that the Christ emerged from such a people and their culture. At the same time, the disciples, such as Paul of Tarsus, and the Church Fathers that followed him, tell us that Christ’s people rejected him and had him executed. His people did not want his teachings which had replaced so many of their laws and concepts.
‘We are told by the Blessed Paul that the words of Christ were to be brought to those not of the culture of the Old Testament. So we ask ourselves why are these texts part of our scriptures unless merely to show us the history and the type of people who came to reject the Christ? Why are we so confused by these old texts that many Christian councils cannot even agree on what texts constitute the Holy Scripture that we should adopt as our own Faith?
‘You remind us that Damasus the First, the Bishop of Rome, commanded Eusebius to translate the ancient texts into Latin. We find that this very act provoked arguments between Eusebius and Augustine of Hippo at the Council of Carthage … everyone had different opinions as to what should be left in and what should be left out of the final work.’ Prior Cuan paused, shaking his head in disgust. ‘What has the Tanakh, the Hebrew history of the Israelites and their battles, their philosophers and religion, to do with our equally ancient history, law and philosophies? Why should we accept the history and legends of the Israelites as more worthy than the history and legends of our own people? Instead of the Tanakh, why not accept the Lebor Gabala Erenn? Why should we throw away our very being for a culture from the other side of the world?’
The Prior of Imleach sank back on his seat. Fidelma gazed in amazement at the quiet passion of Cuan. Here was erudition indeed.
Abbot Nannid was now white-faced with anger. ‘You are speaking heresy,’ he shouted when he could no longer contain himself.
‘He is denying the Faith!’ Brother Cuineain echoed his master. Even Brother Tuaman, the prior’s steward, appeared to be troubled.
‘Not so!’ Prior Cuan replied, still seated. ‘I fully accept the word of Christ and the founding fathers of the Faith. What I am saying is that the texts of the ancient history and religion of the land in which Christ came into this world, and whose people rejected Him, are of no more worth than any other. What is more important is what Christ actually taught and the teachings that have been passed on to us in the manner of His New Faith.’
‘The words of Christ can only come from an understanding of the history of His people and their religion,’ declared the abbot.
‘But Christ is divine and above a product of one nation, one language and one culture. Is this not so?’ demanded Prior Cuan. ‘Aren’t we taught that?’
‘It is following the law of God that gives us the Faith,’ replied Abbot Nannid. ‘The law of God can only be that of his chosen people.’
‘So what are you saying?’ Prior Cuan asked. ‘Is it that the newfound law of the God of Israel must now be the sole arbiter of all our lives, just because we accept Christ? Yet Christ Himself did not accept this law but questioned it.’
‘We are talking about the murder of Abbot Segdae. A life for a life! It is clearly said in the Old Testament.’
‘We are not arguing Gorman’s case,’ Brehon Faolchair reminded him again, ‘but whether the New Faith has abolished our laws.’
Prior Cuan would not let the matter alone and surprised Fidelma by his vehemence. ‘You demand more than a life for a life, Abbot Nannid. Is it not so? You argue that whatsoever is ordered in the Holy Scriptures is now the law we must obey. That is what you claim as the Penitentials.’
‘The sacred scriptures are there to be obeyed,’ the abbot agreed dourly.
Prior Cuan shook his head as if in sorrow. ‘The people of the Five Kingdoms hold most of their wealth in cattle, is it not so? Sometimes there are accidents with bulls, indeed, with other animals that become fractious, escape confinement and injure and even kill people. When this happens, in our law, compensation is made to the injured or their family. But the scripture known as Exodus says that not only must the animal be put to death but the owner as well. There is no choice in the matter. Do you follow that law?’
‘The law of God is the law,’ Abbot Nannid returned stolidly.
‘And a man gathering wood for his poor fire on a holy day, as recounted in the Book of Numbers: God instructed that he be put to death for his impudence. Do you agree with that?’
‘The judgement of God is not to be questioned.’
‘So we must follow these laws without question because they are written in scripture?’
‘That is what they are there for.’
‘This morning in the marketplace in the township, I saw a group of boys making fun of a merchant struggling with a bag too heavy for him. Often boys and even girls have a cruel sense of humour. But would you put them to death?’
Abbot Nannid frowned momentarily. ‘Why should I?’
‘Because you say the judgement of scripture must be obeyed. In the second Book of Kings you will find that when the prophet Elisha was entering a town, a group of boys gathered round and made fun of his bald head. Elisha immediately had God strike them all dead for their impertinence. Do you find justice in that?’
Abbot Nannid hesitated a little. ‘That law is the law,’ he finally mumbled.
‘Your law – not mine,’ Fidelma declared.
Prior Cuan was not finished. ‘There are many things in the Old Testament scriptures that merit death according to your lights, Abbot Nannid. Even acts of kindness are punishable by death. Yet doesn’t Christ demand that we are all kind to one another?’
Abbot Nannid was on the defensive now. ‘I have no knowledge of what you mean.’