October 2nd.  St. Thomas of Hereford.

Thomas Cantelupe was born into an influential family of Norman origin at Hambledon – not ‘our’ Hambledon, but the one on the Thames near Henley – in 1218.  He was sent to Oxford University, but student unrest there [plus ça change] resulted in his transfer to Paris, where he lived in somewhat ‘yuppie’ style.  He was ordained priest in 1245 and obtained a Papal dispensation to be able to hold several ecclesiastical benefices simultaneously (benefice=a church office with financial benefit attached).  In 1261 he returned to be Chancellor of Oxford University, and was briefly Chancellor of England in 1264 after Simon de Montfort, whom he supported, wrested control from King Henry III after the battle of Lewes.  When de Montfort fell, Thomas returned to Paris.  He re-emerged in 1273, again as Chancellor of Oxford University, and was a notable pluralist: precentor of York, archdeacon of Stafford, canon of several cathedrals and ‘absent incumbent’ of several Herefordshire parishes.  In fact he was not totally absent, and it was these humble parishes which, after his visitations of them, brought about a total change of life style from that of ecclesiastical wastrel to a man of true spirituality and humility.  In 1275 he was elected bishop of Hereford, and proved notable diligent, just and simple in life-style.  However, he came into conflict with the awkward Archbishop of Canterbury, John Pecham (1279-92), and his resistance of Pecham’s centralising mania resulted in his being excommunicated by the Archbishop.  He appealed to Rome, but died on the journey, at Montefiascone near Orvieto in 1282.  A tidal wave of testimony in favour of his sanctity rose up in his one diocese, and he was canonised in 1320, according to the new canonisation procedures just introduced by the Church.  Ironically he was still excommunicate when he died, something which did not prevent his canonisation.  Thomas is a full-blooded saint of the Middle Ages, when the worlds of politics and the Church went hand in hand, and while the right hand blessed the left hand scribbled condemnations of rivals.  Some of his life seems far from admirable, but he was canonised for his personal conversion and representation of his new-found closeness to God in his service of his diocesan flock.