THIS year marks the 900th anniversary of the martyrdom of St Magnus of Orkney.
So what’s the story?
In the 12th century, two earls ruled Orkney: Magnus and Haakon. They were cousins. Magnus was more popular than Haakon. He was also more peaceable. One story in the Orkneyinga Saga is particularly illuminating:
King Magnus Barelegs of Norway – great name! – had raised a large fleet to seek plunder and land. When the ships landed at the Menai Strait, the king’s men prepared for battle.
The king had taken Magnus with him as cupbearer. When the king saw that Magnus carried no weapon, but held only a Psalter in his hand, he angrily asked Magnus what he was doing.
Magnus replied: “I have no quarrel with these people. My conscience tells me it’s not right to fight them.”
The king was furious. “You’re nothing but a coward,” he said.
Magnus replied: “My God will shield me. I shall not be killed if he wishes me to live. I would sooner die than fight an unjust battle.” Magnus then started chanting Psalms, while the arrows flew. Magnus was unharmed.
This is an astonishing story, particularly when set against the background of a savage Viking culture of war.
Earl Haakon was untroubled by such scruples. He had a reputation for violence.
Things got so bad that it was decided to hold a peace conference on the island of Egilsay at Easter time. It was agreed that each earl would bring two ships and an equal number of men. When Magnus arrived on Egilsay, he saw eight ships on the horizon, instead of two. He immediately understood the arithmetic of death. Magnus’s men were ready to fight, but Magnus told them to put away their swords.
Does that sound familiar?
Magnus made Haakon three offers as alternatives to his death, but these were rejected. Haakon ordered Lifolf, his cook, to execute Magnus. When Lifolf started wailing, Magnus took off his tunic and gave it him, telling him that he was forgiven. After the murder, Haakon’s men left for mainland Orkney.
At this stage in the Saga narrative, the most extraordinary thing happens. A woman appears. She is no ordinary woman, she is Thora, the mother of Magnus. When I was researching the story, I became very intrigued by Thora. Why? Before Magnus set out for Egilsay, Thora had arranged that Magnus and Haakon would come to her house for a feast to celebrate the signing of the peace treaty. But only one person turns up – Haakon, because, of course, Magnus is dead. Thora pours Haakon a drink, and then she says the most extraordinary thing to her son’s killer: “Be a son to me”, she says,”and I shall be a mother to you.” Overwhelmed, Haakon breaks down in tears of guilt.
Magnus, imitator of Christ, died for the peace of Orkney. He was a bridge over troubled waters – a bridge over which people who were once enemies could cross.
Haakon’s life was changed by this gracefilled encounter. He went on a penitential journey to Jerusalem, and when he returned to Orkney, he proved himself to be a wise and popular ruler.
Magnus, imitator of Christ, died for the peace of Orkney. He was a bridge over troubled waters – a bridge over which people who were once enemies could cross. Today, we need more bridges – not more walls. And we badly need peacemaking with justice. §
Ron Ferguson’s contemporary opera about Magnus, written in collaboration with composer Gemma McGregor, will be premiered at the St Magnus International Festival on June 17.