If you were a woman in the thirteenth century who wanted to devote your life to God, you joined a convent. No other options were open to you. A group of women defied convention by choosing to live for God while rejecting the cloistered life. They didn’t take formal religious vows or live in church-sanctioned religious orders yet covenanted together to practice contemplative prayer and ministry to the poor. One of those who chose this hybrid model was Mechthild of Magdeburg (1207-1282). She recognized the pitfalls of stagnancy and self-satisfaction that came with monastic life and moved near other like-minded women called beguines (pronounced ba-geens) to pray and serve God. The movement was viewed with suspicion by the religious establishment since the women weren’t properly religious or formally trained. A triple marginalization, you might say. Mechthild was as surprised as her critics that God chose her to deliver the message and wrote The Flowering Light of the Godhead, a collection of seven books over a thirty-year span. It was scandalous that she did not write in Latin, the official language of sacred literature, but in common German, making it accessible to the masses. She wasn’t shy about her scathing critique of corrupt clergy practices, as evidenced in the title of one chapter, “How Bad Priests Shall Be Laid Low.” Yet her primary purpose wasn’t to scrutinize clergy but to introduce to laypeople how it’s possible to live in personal, intimate communion with God.
Several poems by Mechthild survive including one with the memorable line, “I cannot dance, Lord, unless you lead me.” Another of her poems that follows here accompanied by her prayer remind us that we are made for God:
A fish cannot drown in water.
A bird does not sink in air.
In the fire of creation,
God doesn’t vanish:
The light brightens.
Each creature God made
must live in its own true nature;
How could I resist my nature,
That lives for oneness with God?