Rev. Dr Sarah Agnew storyteller-poet-minister | sarahagnew.com.au Death takes courage. Actual death, as we’ve all observed for family and friends and strangers facing it through cancer, risking it to preserve life for another, with courage and grace. And we’ve no doubt seen the opposite, facing death with fear and denial that diminishes life before we die. Invited to consider death for this edition of Ruminations, I am actually thinking more of the myriad other kinds of death we experience, and must, to truly live the transformation of resurrection. Deaths that also take courage. A friend recalled Nietzsche in conversation recently, and his claim that he would believe in redemption more if he saw more people living as if they are redeemed. Which reminded me of a Cadfael mystery I read recently – The Heretic’s Apprentice (Ellis Peters, 2014). Set in a Shrewsbury monastery in the 12th century, Cadfael is a warrior-turnedmonk who oversees the abbey gardens and produces remedies to help heal his brothers and those in the wider community. He is also an amateur sleuth, in the great tradition of religious amateur detectives – Father Brown, is another example. Cadfael is a fierce advocate for underdogs, the unjustly accused especially, and in this story, he seeks to help and support a young man doubly accused, first of heresy, then of murder. Both accusations could lead him to an early death, but for this discussion, I’m interested in the heresy charge. The charge of heresy in 12th century Christianity was indeed a matter of life and death. This man unwittingly puts his own life in danger by expressing his questions about redemption and baptism and the inherent good or evil of humans. His master had some years before been accused of heresy for voicing just such questions. These were not matters for the regular folk to consider or discuss – leave it to the professional Christians. With a character as worldly wise as Cadfael, Peters explores doctrines and ideas 13