Stained glass depiction of Saint David (c. 500 - 589)
by William Burges, at Castell Coch, Cardiff
In the Bible, the name David is reserved for the great King of Israel and I seem to recall that the Hebrew meaning is the beloved - and not, as some people mistakenly believe, the slayer of giants.
The young D. H. Lawrence was often reminded by his teachers that his first name had its origins in scripture and that he should be proud to answer to it. But, for some reason, he always disliked it and preferred to be known as Bert by family and friends; just as, in later life - still maintaining his antipathy to David - he was content to be known simply by his surname.
I reflect on this because - as the BBC seem determined everyone know and acknowledge - today is St. David's Day ...
Now, whilst I'm very pleased to wish my Welsh readers well - Dydd Gŵyl Dewi hapus! - I'm not sure what it is, as an Englishman, I'm expected to celebrate, or how I might do so in an appropriate manner; should one eat leeks for dinner, or buy a bunch of daffodils to have round the house? To be frank - in an Anglo-Saxon manner not always appreciated by a Celtic ear that prefers a more lyrical way of speaking - I know very little about Wales and I'm not particularly interested in the country, its culture, or its history.
Further, what I do know of St. David, mostly makes me dislike him (as I do other glorified souls); not only did he help suppress the Pelagian heresy, which challenged the idea of original sin and gave man greater freedom and moral responsibility when faced with the problem of good and evil, but he also established a number of monasteries in which life was so austere and full of unnecessary hardship, that, in one of them, the monks rebelled and attempted to poison him - sick to death as they were of ploughing the fields without the aid of oxen and surviving on a diet that consisted almost solely of water, salted bread, and vegetables.
Having said that, there is one thing I do greatly admire about him and the Welsh people who continue to subscribe to his final teaching that, what matters most, is paying attention to small concerns; Gwnewch y pethau bychain mewn bywyd is something that even an Englishman (and a Nietzschean) can happily affirm - even if not easily say!
Now, whilst I'm very pleased to wish my Welsh readers well - Dydd Gŵyl Dewi hapus! - I'm not sure what it is, as an Englishman, I'm expected to celebrate, or how I might do so in an appropriate manner; should one eat leeks for dinner, or buy a bunch of daffodils to have round the house? To be frank - in an Anglo-Saxon manner not always appreciated by a Celtic ear that prefers a more lyrical way of speaking - I know very little about Wales and I'm not particularly interested in the country, its culture, or its history.
Further, what I do know of St. David, mostly makes me dislike him (as I do other glorified souls); not only did he help suppress the Pelagian heresy, which challenged the idea of original sin and gave man greater freedom and moral responsibility when faced with the problem of good and evil, but he also established a number of monasteries in which life was so austere and full of unnecessary hardship, that, in one of them, the monks rebelled and attempted to poison him - sick to death as they were of ploughing the fields without the aid of oxen and surviving on a diet that consisted almost solely of water, salted bread, and vegetables.
Having said that, there is one thing I do greatly admire about him and the Welsh people who continue to subscribe to his final teaching that, what matters most, is paying attention to small concerns; Gwnewch y pethau bychain mewn bywyd is something that even an Englishman (and a Nietzschean) can happily affirm - even if not easily say!
