A big thank-you to Canon MacDonald of Cheltenham

From next Wednesday, 5th September, the people of the Gloucestershire town of Cheltenham and its surrounding area will once again be able to attend the Traditional Latin Mass in the town. It will be offered at 6 pm on the first Wednesday of each month, at the church of St Gregory the Great. The parish website is here, and contains a link to its latest newsletter. I was delighted to see that the following announcement appears:

Monthly Mass in the Extraordinary Form

Beginning this week, on the first Wednesday of each month, an extra Mass will be offered at St Gregory’s according to the older Latin form of the liturgy. Fr Alex Redman of the Latin Mass Society and parish priest at Dursley has kindly agreed to take on this responsibility and the Masses will be celebrated at 6.00pm in St Gregory’s. All welcome. The parish Mass on Wednesdays will continue to be celebrated at 9.30am as usual.

There are three parishes in the town. All the Masses and other services, in all three churches, are published in the newsletters of each of the parishes. I am delighted to see that the forthcoming Extraordinary Form Mass is included in the list for all to see.

I think the announcement in the St Gregory’s newsletter is very well worded, and I particularly like the warmth of “All welcome”. Thank you so much, Canon MacDonald!


Picture from Google Images, courtesy of the website of St Gregory's sister-parish of St Thomas More.

Shoulderings, Part 3 of 3: The Garment

And then there is the garment, or robe. A strange thing to consider in regard to shouldering a burden, but please bear with me.

I should mention at the start that I haven't included St Paul's references to the wearing of armour, except incidentally in one quotation.  I'm considering the garment as the sign of conversion and faith, of the joy of repentance and forgiveness, of responsibility, and of glory.

Conversion and faith
Here is a stern warning in Matthew 22: 11-14: “But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment; and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”

There is a helpful footnote to this text in my Bible: “The wedding garment represents the dispositions necessary for admission to the kingdom”.

The joy of repentance and forgiveness
Here is the beautiful conclusion to the parable of the Prodigal Son, in Luke 15:21-24: “And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet; and bring the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and make merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ ”

Responsibility
This is a mixture of Scripture and personal anecdote.  Here is St Paul to the Romans (13:11-14):
"... You know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed; the night is far gone, the day is at hand.  Let us then cast off the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in revelling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarreling and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires."

The idea of putting on Christ, like a garment, is a vivid and indeed a physical image.  "Image" it may be, but St Paul seems to be urging it as a reality: that virtue - in its original meaning of strength and manliness - is a spiritual garment; that Christ Himself is our garment and our virtue.  That when we try to do good and avoid wrongdoing, it is a manifestation of that garment resting on our shoulders.

And now the personal anecdote.  I'm rather prone to daydreaming.  A bad habit in many ways, but occasionally it is more considered and it leads to some useful reflections.  This particular one, which was rather gloomy, ended with a heartfelt little prayer of that odd sort we make up ourselves, barely articulate:  "I'm just a bit of rubbish."  I'm making no claims for what came next, because it sounded suspiciously like my very own voice in my head:  "Yes, but you're My bit of rubbish; so put this robe on."  Well, the first idea made me laugh; but the second gave me quite a start.  Interestingly, it was this experience that prompted the reflections that led  to this series of posts on the various kinds of shoulderings.

But back to the robe or garment.  I can't back this up with any quotation, but it feels as though each person's garment is perfectly suited to that individual.  Also, that it is a working garment, laid on our shoulders for a purpose. Each of us is to be , in an important or obscure way, an envoy, an ambassador. 

By temperament I am nearer to the unconfident end of the scale. With that in mind, if it were only me doing this work of giving witness, it would be utterly daunting. But I now try to think of myself as wearing this robe, at moments when I would otherwise quail and retreat; and there is a dignity about the knowledge of it, and a kindliness, and these qualities are not mine, but the Lord’s, to Whom the garment really belongs. It is one of those surprising little joys of life to have become aware of this.

Glory
It was while I was mulling over this little series that I was reminded of another robe, in a much darker scene. Here it is, in John 19:2-6: “The soldiers plaited a crown of thorns, and put it on His head, and clothed Him in a purple robe; they came up to Him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ and struck Him with their hands. Pilate went out again, and said to them, ‘Behold, I am bringing Him out to you, that you may know that I find no crime in Him.’ So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, ‘Here is the man!’ When the chief priests and the officers saw Him they cried out, ‘Crucify Him, crucify Him!’ ” 

The soldiers used the robe to mock what they had been told about Jesus, and the crown of thorns both to mock and to torture Him. In the minds of the Jewish leaders it probably went too close for comfort, contributing to the frenzy of their rejection.  As for us, we see the Suffering King, His suffering inseparable from His kingship.  This is a dark glory.

In happy contrast, another Scriptural passage has been brought to my mind.  This one concerns a garment of unalloyed glory. It is from Revelation 19:7-8: “ ‘The marriage of the Lamb has come, and His Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to be clothed with fine linen, bright and pure’ – for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.”  If I'm to get my fine linen, it's definitely a work in progress ...


Finally ...
...  to tie everything in this series together, there is a phrase from the New Testament which occurred to me while I was writing these posts: “The weight of glory”. These words appear in St Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians (4:16-18), and they seem to link together the different kinds of shoulderings: the unseeing quality of our lives, like the lives of the oxen; the affliction of our personal crosses; and the glory the Lord intends for us.

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer man is wasting away, our inner man is being renewed every day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”



Picture from oneyearbibleblog.com, via Google Images

Shoulderings, Part 2 of 3: The Cross

The cross, and indeed the Cross. Luke 9:23: “If any man would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” Matt 10:38: “He who does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me.” Very sobering, that second one.

And then there is the Cross, on that dreadful journey to Calvary. Matthew 27:32: “As they were marching out, they came upon a man of Cyrene, Simon by name; this man they compelled to carry His cross.”   The second and third accounts of the scene each add a detail.  Mark 15:21: “And they compelled a passer-by, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry His cross”; Luke 23:26: “And as they led Him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus.” 

Several years ago I heard some words in a young priest’s homily which have remained with me ever since. He said, “For each of us, the cross is that thing which we would least wish to bear.”*

Simon most certainly did not want to bear it. He was forced.

St Alphonsus Liguori, in his reflection on the fifth Station of the Cross, attributes the conscription of Simon to the fear of the Jewish leaders that Jesus would die on the way to Calvary, when they wished him to die an ignominious death on the cross. This passage gave rise to a strange experience some weeks ago, when I was standing at the fifth Station in the church of St Mary-on-the-Quay in Bristol.

In this representation, Simon is bent forward with the full weight of the cross on his back. He has turned his face in our direction, to look up at Jesus, Who is walking beside him. I had a horrible intuition from the look on Simon’s face: he knew all too well that this was no act of compassion he had been forced to undertake. He was carrying the cross so that in a little while Jesus would undergo a far, far more terrible agony. He was in fact making it worse for Jesus. And he knew it. Perhaps this was one of the reasons for his unwillingness: a sense of desperate pity that would have preferred the poor suffering Man to die quickly under the weight of the cross, and get it over with. But Simon had no choice. The sheer awfulness of it suddenly became very real to me. You never know what will come to you when you follow the Stations of the Cross.





*As a matter of interest, the priest was Dom Paul Gunter, who is now the Secretary of the Liturgy Commission of the Bishops of England and Wales.

Picture from communio.stblogs.org, via Google Images

Shoulderings, Part 1 of 3: The Yoke

I thought I would gather together some of the passages in the New Testament which refer to the shouldering of a load. It is not a complete collection, but I thought you might like to see the results. It’s quite long, so I’ve divided it into three instalments.

The Yoke

Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Shoulder My yoke, and learn from Me; for I am gentle and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden light.”

When we think about it, that is a most astonishing thing for a wandering preacher to say. It pierces to our hearts; what must it have been like for those who heard these words actually spoken by Jesus?

To people in Britain, the idea of the yoke tends to conjure up the solitary yoke of the milkmaid. The older ones among us may remember the large roadside advertisements, showing the Ovaltine milkmaid. I don’t know why it took me so long, but I must have been in my forties when I first began to associate the yoke of Christ with the shared yoke of the oxen.

I have heard it said that the farmer takes an ox that is new to the work and teams it with a more experienced animal. As they go along, the older ox guides and supports his partner. Thus the weaker partner is never left to cope alone; and neither are we.

Another important feature is that the oxen cannot see behind them. Their work is just to go on, ploughing the land. It is the farmer who decides what to plant, sows it, waters it and harvests it. I suppose it never occurs to the oxen that the crops are the fruit of their labours. But perhaps the Lord may grant us a glimpse, one day, of the harvest - whether small or great - that has been gathered from our unseeing efforts.


Picture from mysticalchrist.wordpress.com, via Google Images

"To work for the eternal benefit of every area of life"

Here is a quick translation of an interesting article I read today in Messa in Latino .  It is in fact an editorial published by Radicati nella Fede (Rooted in the Faith). The translation may contain a few mistakes, but it was done in some haste.  I ought to be getting on with other things, such as the ironing.

“Summorum Pontificum: A double-edged sword

Don’t worry, we do not want to criticise the Holy Father’s document, we only want to say that it can be used in different ways, depending on people’s intentions.

Indeed, we have witnessed a strange phenomenon, these past five years: everyone, or nearly everyone, has appealed to Summorum Pontificum, whether those who wanted the return of the tradition of Catholicity to the churches, or those who wanted to obstruct it, to prevent it from disturbing the new process of violent modernisation which had been introduced nearly half a century ago.

We had already stated this in July 2007. Enthusiasts began to celebrate in the Vetus Ordo (the traditional Mass), rejoicing in the liberalisation miraculously wrought by Benedict XVI, and the curias intervened to say that what they were doing was not the real intention of the Holy Father. Let us all spare ourselves the shilly-shallying of that time, with the bitter disputes as to what was a “private Mass” and what wasn’t: it reached the point of claiming that priests were free to celebrate the “old” Mass alone, behind closed doors, with, at the most, one well-trained server … the more private, the more likely to die out, it has to be said! … it reached the point of requiring the details of everyone who requested and attended the traditional Mass, contrary to “privacy”; they tried to forbid catechesis and preaching. All this was done by referring to various juridical quibbles in the papal document: to juridical quibbles, not to the substance.

Then they decided to discredit the traditional faithful behind the scenes, with the magic words … “They are disobedient”, without providing any further details.

In a Church where chaos reigns over everything, where very few now accept all the truths of the Creed without exclusion, where the Commandments are accepted or rejected as one pleases, where parish priests can hardly ask anything of the faithful any more, for fear of being subjected to public judgment, where the Pope is criticised according to personal taste (sympathetic/antipathetic), where even in the confessionals the moral law is often made up by the priest on duty at the time, who is more or less “open” to the new and urgent needs of human life, it is very strange that the only ones who are “disobedient” are the priests and faithful who love Tradition!

Is it not that the question of obedience is brought up only to stop the return to Tradition? How many faithful have been scared off like this, by hissing in their ears, “Watch out! They are disobedient”? But have those who have hissed in this way subsequently taken care of their listeners’ souls? We fear not; their only desire was that of detaching them from Tradition.

It is a thing that remains the central point of the Motu Proprio Summorum Pontificum, the substance of it: “The traditional Mass was never abolished”. This is the clear point. It is necessary to start from this in order to understand one another. The traditional Mass is not a concession, it is a reality, it forms part of the life of the Church. Hence it is a matter of justice not to stop it, this Mass of all time, not to impede its fruits, either by the explicit means of prohibitions, or by those crafty methods of instilling doubts.

It was never abolished. So leave it free to work for the eternal benefit of every area of life. It was never abolished, it has been the Mass of centuries and centuries of Christianity, it has made the saints of the Church … and so, what are you afraid of? Yes, what are you afraid of? If the faith of the Church is the faith of all time, why be afraid of the Mass of all time? Unless someone thinks that the faith changes in accordance with the particular era; but this is another story; it is called “modernism”; it is a beautiful, good heresy – or, on the contrary, it is the same as all the heresies.

And so, the person who thinks it is necessary to modernise the faith is the disobedient one: and this is disobedience, the unique and most serious disobedience: the disobedience not only against human laws, but against the faith.”





Picture from blog.adw.org (The Archdiocese of Washington) via Google Images

Let us Worship the Lord Together

Father Simon Henry’s blog Offerimus Tibi Domine is always a really good read; do visit it when you can. He writes from a part of Lancashire – my home county – that is in the Archdiocese of Liverpool.

Fr Henry published an interesting post a few days ago about his experience of offering Mass in St Peter’s Basilica. In particular, he could not help overhearing an American priest at the next altar, who was ad-libbing the new translation. Among other things, the priest replaced the word “chalice” with “cup” at the Consecration.

That bit made me recall a priest whose Mass I have attended occasionally. In many ways he is admirable, especially in the high quality of his homilies, which are doctrinally rich and inspirational. Absolutely top marks to him for that. But there is a “however”. He appears to have decided not to say “chalice” at the Consecration, in accordance with the new translation. He continues to say “cup”. From what I know of him, I’d say it was a studied decision, not an accidental slip. It’s very wrong of me to feel exasperated at this most solemn moment of the Mass, the great moment of salvation. But I dearly wish he wouldn’t say it.

There is another thing, and I don’t know how widespread this is; I don’t think I’ve encountered it anywhere else. According to him, when Mass was always offered ad orientem, the elevation of the Host and the Chalice above the priest’s head at the Consecration was necessary because otherwise the congregation could not see them. Since his Mass is now offered facing the people, they can see everything, and thus the elevation has become superfluous. I think he claimed that the rubrics do not specifically mention elevation – or elevation above the head. I don’t know what the altar-missal actually says, so I’m not in a position to argue for or against on the basis of the text. Instead, he lifts the Host from the altar with one hand, just enough to hold It in front of him, hardly at chest height. Likewise with the Chalice.

I have been struggling to find the words to express what seems wrong with this view. I dare say that others can point out its deficiency better than I can. But it has occurred to me that perhaps a positive rather than a negative approach might get to the heart of it.

One of the arguments for offering Mass facing the people is that it unites the priest and the people as a community. (I don’t agree with the implication of disunity between priest and people at the ad orientem Mass; nevertheless, it’s an argument that is used.) When the priest, in a Mass facing the people, elevates the Host, and then the Chalice, however slightly, he is presenting the Lord to the congregation for us to look up and adore Him. But even if there were no other arguments in favour, the high elevation has this to recommend it: that the priest himself is also impelled to look up and adore. In this action he is demonstrably united with us as we worship the Lord together.



Picture from marysrosaries.com, via Google Images

Restoration of the Traditional Mass in Cheltenham; and a prayer request for our Bishop

1. The Traditional Latin Mass

It has just been confirmed that Fr Alexander Redman of Dursley has kindly undertaken to offer the Extraordinary Form of the Mass at St Gregory’s church in Cheltenham. This will be the first opportunity to attend the Traditional Latin Mass in the town since the transfer of Fr Tom Smith to Warminster last autumn.

Mass will be offered on the first Wednesday of every month, at 6pm, starting on Wednesday 5th September.

Many thanks are due to Canon Bosco MacDonald, the parish priest of St Gregory’s, who has kindly permitted this regular celebration, and has also allowed the Mass to be publicised in the church bulletin, which is distributed in all the parishes of Cheltenham.

2. Bishop Lang

It has been mentioned in one or two Catholic blogs recently that our Bishop, Bishop Lang of Clifton, is not very well; and that he is to take a four-month sabbatical in a few months’ time (I don’t know if the two items are connected or coincidental). I don’t have any more information than that, but could I ask of my readers the favour of saying a prayer for his health and wellbeing?

English Version of the SSPX Novena of Prayer, 30 June – 8 July

Father Finigan has published this post about the request by the Society of St Pius X for a Novena of prayer, in anticipation of the Society’s General Chapter, which will take place from 9-14 July. The Novena period is from 30 June to 8 July.

As Father Finigan says, let’s all join in. Whatever may betide, prayer is never wasted. God will turn it all to good, in His time and in His way.

For convenience, I have typed the entire English version below.

VENI CREATOR

Come, Holy Ghost, Creator
Take possession of our souls
Infuse with heavenly grace
The hearts Thou hast created

Thou Who art called the Paraclete
Best gift of the Most High God
Living fountain, fire, charity
And spiritual unction

Thou sevenfold gift
Finger of God’s right hand
Thou promise of the Father
Teaching speech and understanding

Enkindle the light of our minds
Pour love into our hearts
The infirmity of our body
Confirm with perpetual strength

Repulse the enemy even further
And give peace in his stead
May Thou so lead us
That we evade all harm

Through Thee grant us to know
Father as well as Son
And with Both Thee, Spirit, Trinity
Forever may we believe in

Let glory be to God the Father
And to the Son, Who from the dead
Has arisen, and the Paraclete
Unto ages of ages, Amen.

V. Send forth Thy Spirit, and they shall be created.
R. And Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.

Let us pray.
O God, Who did instruct the hearts of the faithful by the light of the Holy Ghost, grant that by the same Spirit we may relish what is right, and ever rejoice in His consolation. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

SUB TUUM PRAESIDIUM

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God: despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us from all dangers, O ever glorious and blessed Virgin!

PRAYER TO ST PIUS X

O God, Who for the defence of the Catholic Faith and the restoration of all things in Christ, didst fill the holy Pope Pius with heavenly wisdom and apostolic courage, mercifully grant that we, following his instruction and example, may attain his eternal reward. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

St Pius X, pray for us.

Another journey to London

A happy but tiring day in London yesterday, to attend Fr Hunwicke’s First Mass in the Extraordinary Form.

Slept very badly, which meant I was already up and about before my alarm clock was due to go off. Taxi to the station, then by train to London Paddington. Crowded: long queues for tickets in the Underground.

The day was already very warm as I made my way from South Kensington Tube station to the nearby Brompton Oratory. Dark and somewhat cooler in the big Baroque church.

Fr Hunwicke’s Mass was not at the High Altar, but at the Lady Altar. This made the occasion more intimate because we were closer to the celebrant, even though we had to face sideways in our chairs.

A modest, dignified Low Mass. I love the straightforwardness of this form of the Holy Sacrifice.

After the Mass we were able to kneel at the sanctuary rail of the High Altar and receive Father Hunwicke’s First Blessing. A great joy. I can’t remember ever having received this before.

There were one or two faces I recognised, but none I could put a name to, except for Fr Blake of Brighton. He has blogged about the event here.

I left the building and walked the short distance to the Victoria & Albert Museum. At that moment, five Royal Air Force jets in close formation – Tornadoes, I guessed –roared fast and low along the length of the street. I remembered that the Bomber Command memorial was being opened, and supposed they were connected with that. Today’s paper has confirmed that they were indeed Tornadoes.

Lunch in a very busy V&A, then a look round the 20th century costume exhibits. I love fabrics and was very interested in the cut of the clothes.

There was still a good deal of time before I needed to go back to Paddington for my homeward train. I thought of walking up to Hyde Park to see the Albert memorial and the Royal Albert Hall; but with every step in the humid heat I felt more and more tired, and more conscious that each step would have to be duplicated for the return. And so I turned back, and trudged to the tube station.

The first train was very full. Two buskers with fiddle and guitar were plying their trade amidst the scrum. I decided to try another train, and got off at the next station. So did the buskers. They struck up again, but I think they were only rehearsing. There were few people on the platforms, and the station was cool, which I appreciated.

I arrived at Paddington with an hour and a half to spare. The time went surprisingly quickly. Saw an elderly man, very smart and upright, with a row of medals on his jacket. He must have been to the opening of the memorial. I think I recognised him in the newspaper picture this morning.

My reserved seat on the return journey was in the only carriage on the train in which the air conditioning had broken down. What sort of luck is that? I endured it until the train had disgorged the greater part of its passengers, and then moved to find somewhere cooler.

Taxi home from the station, and it was a long time since I had felt so exhausted, what with the bad night and the heat. Slept for nine and a half hours last night, and I needed every minute of it.

"Strictly Kosher": Highly Recommended

This Monday and Tuesday evenings just gone (25 and 26 June 2012) I watched a two-part documentary about the Jewish community of Manchester. I found it charming and endearing, and in parts very moving. I recommend it with pleasure. It will continue to be available on ITV Player for 28 days.

Shrewsbury Diocese and the Heart of St John Vianney

Readers may be interested to read the full schedule of the forthcoming visit of the relic of St John Vianney, the Curé d’Ars, to the Diocese of Shrewsbury.  Here is the link on the diocesan website.

The visit begins on Thursday 5th July, and the relic returns to Ars on Monday 9th July.

It is interesting to note that during this period the relic is to make two visits beyond the territory of the diocese.  On Friday 6th July it will be at Liverpool's Metropolitan Cathedral, for what is described as "a national day: praying for the renewal of parish life and vocations"; and on the afternoon of Sunday 8th July the general public will be able to venerate the relic at Oscott College, near Birmingham.

I doubt if I'll be able to attend at any of these locations, but I look forward to reading the accounts of those who do.  I think it will be a moving experience, such as I had (to my delighted surprise) when I visited the Oxford Oratory on the occasion of the visit of the relics of St Thérèse of Lisieux in 2009.



Picture from psalm84-4.blogspot.com, via Google Images

Feeling rather conspicuous in this hat …

Since the subject of mantillas is being given an airing at present, by Dr Shaw, Mary O’Regan, and Annie, I thought I might tell you about my own experience.

As I recall from the parish in which I grew up, hats or headscarves were the usual headgear until some time in the 1960s, when mantillas began to appear and gradually took over.

In my present parish, exclusively OF, I can think of just four women who ever cover their heads.  The other women hardly ever appear together at Mass. In fact I am often the only woman in the congregation with a headcovering. Ah, the qualms when I am getting ready to go to Mass; the diffidence; the embarrassment! I am probably being unnecessarily self-conscious about it; if I am noticed at all, the response is probably one of live and let live. But in my more paranoid moments I feel as if I have entered a Most Eccentric Parishioner competition, in which I am the only competitor. And I lose.

It doesn’t really help that I look a bit of a so-and-so in a hat. My appearance is something halfway between the above, and this:

I think a mantilla would be a step too outrageous at present. I keep the mantilla for when I am away from home, where no one knows me. I see mantillas, scarves etc aplenty at such times. Of course, it may be that all those women have, like me, travelled some distance to throw off the shackles of post-Vatican II convention in an anonymous environment.

As I have persevered in wearing my hat to Mass, an interesting little niggle has established itself in my head. I am now very reluctant to go into a Catholic church with my head uncovered. This is not in any way a judgment on the majority of women who do not cover their heads. Perish the thought! But I have started to experience, when I am getting ready to go to Mass, an argument going on inside me. First, I quail at the thought of being Mrs Hat; and then I examine my motives, whether for going without, or for covering my head.

The going-without case seems to rest entirely on embarrassment, of the fear (never yet realised) of adverse comments; in short, of the old temptation to Human Respect – not, of course, in the natural and kindly sense, but in the technical, moral sense. The case for covering my head is really a very private and personal one, however visible the effect: for me, it’s not really about the words of St Paul, although I am aware of them; it’s more about an act of fellowship with women throughout the history of the Church; and most of all and most immediately, it springs from a feeling that I ought to do it, and accept the embarrassment, as a little work of humility and of love for the Lord.  In other words, it's about Him, not about me.

Last Sunday I had another of my quailing moments. I thought, oh, I don’t want to look like the odd one out; and I didn’t put my hat on. When I went into the living-room to say I was about to set off, my husband said: “Oh, where’s your little hat?” Out of the mouths of husbands … they were the salutary words I needed: I went to the bedroom and put my hat on, and I hope to abide by that rather touching little reminder on every future occasion.




Photos via Google Images: Hetty from uk.ebid.net; Hyacinth from bookcrossing.com

A Grand Day Out

It has taken me a couple of days to recover from a tiring but tremendously worthwhile day out in London. The occasion was the Latin Mass Society’s first one-day conference, and oh boy, it certainly stretched the mind and gladdened the heart.

We had five excellent speakers: Dr John Rao of The Roman Forum; Mr Stuart McCullough of The Good Counsel Network; Fr John Zuhlsdorf of What does the Prayer Really Say?; Fr Tim Finigan, parish priest and author of the blog The Hermeneutic of Continuity; and soon-to-be-Father Hunwicke of the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham, author of the blog Fr Hunwickes’s Liturgical Notes, which he began during his years in the Church of England. The day closed with a panel discussion; sadly, I missed it, because I had to go for my train.

Dr Joseph Shaw, the LMS Chairman, has posted an MP3 link to Dr Rao’s talk on his LMS Chairman's Blog.  He plans to do the same with the other speakers’ talks as soon as he can.

Among those manning the information stalls were members of three traditional congregations: the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, who have recently begun their apostolate at the church of SS Peter and Paul and St Philomena, in New Brighton, at the tip of the Wirral peninsula; the Priestly Fraternity of St Peter, who are based in various places, but the nearest to where I live is, I think, Reading; and, from faraway Papa Stronsay in the Orkney Islands, the Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer.

There was a delightfully friendly atmosphere throughout the day, and a great deal of animated conversation. I’m very glad to have been able to attend. I understand that quite a few of the Big Beasts of the Catholic blogosphere were there; no doubt they will be posting their own accounts of the day, which I look forward to reading.

I don't think I've ever created so many links before.

The Government's consultation on changing the scope of marriage: searching for the right words

May I begin by recommending to you a fine post by The Reluctant Sinner, entitled "We shouldn't blame homosexual activists for wanting to get 'married' - The real purpose of marriage was probably destroyed before the decriminalisation of homosexuality".

Those of us who have signed the Coalition for Marriage’s petition to keep the classical definition and scope of marriage, are being encouraged to go a step further by adding their contribution to the consultation document.

It’s much easier to sign a petition than to express one’s views in so many words. I was reluctant at first, because it always takes me such a long time to gather my thoughts into shape. But at last I have managed to compose something and send it.

C4M provides a selection of suitable texts, which you can use or adapt, or you can write it in your own words. I incorporated one or two phrases in my own statement.

It’s very hard to argue these things without relying solely on assertions. But then, our Prime Minister is very fond of uttering that great unproveable assertion: “It’s the right thing to do.” I hope the assertions I have made are at least reasonable. This is my effort - tweaked a bit here and there, because I am never satisfied:

There is no distinction in our country's law between civil and religious marriage. It is simply marriage. Any reference to these two things as distinct legal realities is false and misleading.

Marriage, which predates the state and any organised religion, has an intrinsic nature. No one, including the state, has the competence to redefine it in order to extend it beyond its natural meaning.

The unalterable core of its nature is the exchange, by a man and woman, of the right to share with one another the procreative act. (This does not depend on the couple's fertility, but on their being capable of the act.) Since only a man and a woman are physically capable of this, any attempt by the law to extend marriage to persons of the same sex would be void.

At the conclusion of any such attempted marriage ceremony, even if permitted by the law of the land, the parties concerned would remain as they were; whatever that law decreed, they would not in reality be married.

"The unalterable core of its nature is the exchange, by a man and woman, of the right to share with one another the procreative act." It was when I was composing this sentence, that the enormity of the Government's latest proposal - to remove the requirement for the consummation of marriage, in order to accommodate same-sex partners - was brought home to me most forcefully. They think they can remove the very core of marriage; but it can't be done. Details can be found in the Reverend Nick Donnelly's blog, Protect the Pope.

Please feel free to lift anything from this for your own contribution if you would find it useful. I wish I could have said it more concisely, but I have said pretty much what I wanted to say. They probably won’t read it anyway; still, it’s the effort that counts. I think the important thing is to contribute to the total number of those responding.

As the same Prime Minister and his Chancellor like to say, “We’re all in this together.”

A priest rejoices at the view beyond Vatican II

I was struck by this poignant and rather exhilarating comment from an anonymous priest, in response to a Rorate Caeli post:

For many years now priests and others have attempted always to prove their Church "street cred" by referring back to the documents of the Council, as if someone is looking over their shoulder at all times and requiring that they do so to prove their loyalty to the "company program". I have never felt so free as a priest now that I no longer use the Council as a wall in the past [,] the immense and beckoning vista beyond which I cannot see.

"I have never felt so free."  The writer is probably describing the experience of quite a number of priests, whose eyes are now being opened to the Church's great wealth of spiritual treasure.

An attractive proposition?

The Holy See Press Office's communique* on the subject of the Society of St Pius X concludes as follows:

“Regarding the positions taken by the other three bishops of the Society of St. Pius X, their situations will have to be dealt with separately and singularly.”

How can it be otherwise? Perhaps the broadcast of the exchange of letters in the public domain was intended as a spoiler by a person or persons in the SSPX, as some have suggested. Whether it was or not, the fact that we all know about it is probably irrelevant. If the exchange had not been leaked, I cannot imagine that Bishop Fellay would have withheld from the CDF his fellow-bishops’ disagreement with important aspects of the reconciliation process.

I have only read Bishop Fellay’s reply to their letter, but its contents are enough to indicate that if the views he laments remain the same, it will surely not be exclusively up to those three whether they, as individuals, return to indisputable and visible unity in the Church. It will be for Rome to decide whether she regards them as an attractive proposition. They seem to be very different characters. All the more reason, then, for the CDF and indeed the Holy Father to weigh them very carefully, “separately and singularly”.

 
*Link:  http://www.vis.va/vissolr/index.php?vi=all&dl=5eb79266-fc2a-d4b5-5855-4fb39d6467dc&dl_t=text/xml&dl_a=y&ul=1&ev=1

Gathering us in, soul by soul

This SSPX business is constantly in my mind at present, whether at the surface or just beneath it. The Holy Father has shown himself capable of taking astonishing initiatives, going beyond what was imagined: for example, in enabling the establishment of Anglican-use Ordinariates. I hope it may be so in this case.

If a split occurs in the wake of any proposal, it will not be neat, but messy. It will be rather like a bloodless version of the partition of a country, with people fleeing in one direction colliding with others who are fleeing in the opposite direction. We cannot know at this stage how many of each type there will be. I think there will be a good deal of pain.

Our dear Pope Benedict has a great ambition, it seems: to gather us in, as many of us as possible, of all spiritual shapes and sizes and colours, as long as we have a Catholic heart and Catholic faith; to ensure that we of the wild olive shoot are all securely grafted into the true olive where the Good Lord intended us to be. This, I think, is meant to include, quietly but most ambitiously of all, the branches which really belong to the olive but were once, long ago, broken off*. Institutions and groups are one thing, and important; but I believe that in the last resort we are meant to be gathered in as individuals, soul by soul.


* Romans 11: 17-24

Looking for H

Brilliant news: the author of that most erudite blog, Fr Hunwicke’s Liturgical Notes, is to be ordained deacon on 26th May. Like many of those who commented on Fr Ray Blake’s post, as soon as I saw the item from the Ordinariate, I looked most particularly for his name on the list.

May he, and all his brethren who are the latest candidates for ordination to the Catholic priesthood in the Ordinariate, be blessed with many joys. May they bear – indeed, continue to bear – wonderful fruit.

English Pensioner Frisked at Rome Airport

Intro: This new Blogger format is confusing me. I can't get it to accept paragraph breaks. I apologise for the unbroken block of text that follows. I will try to fathom it out for next time. We have just returned from a holiday in Rome. Not a pilgrimage, more of a general exploration of the city, and we enjoyed it very much. We stayed near the Vatican, and on the day of the weekly General Audience we walked over to St Peter’s Square at about the time when the Holy Father was due to appear. We watched at the back of the square while he was doing his tour of the passageways between the blocks of seating. He was only a small figure in the distance, but we probably had a better view of him than if we had been in the audience and surrounded by a forest of people standing on their chairs. It was fascinating to see this little figure dressed in white, visible only from the waist up, buzzing along quite quickly from right to left, then disappearing for a few seconds at the side, then suddenly reappearing and motoring along equally briskly from left to right. He sawed back and forth until everyone had had at least the theoretical opportunity of seeing him. That was our only sighting of him during the holiday. On the Sunday we could not get into St Peter’s basilica, and had to be satisfied with participating in the Mass from the square. It was an ordination Mass, as on our last visit three years ago, but on that earlier occasion we had been able to go inside. Rome seemed much more crowded this time. Considering the world’s economic woes we had expected the place to be a good deal quieter. Our plan for the holiday was to look at some of Rome’s buildings, and generally to get the feel of the landscape of the city. I now feel a lot more confident about exploring it on foot. For me there was also a personal, religious dimension to our visit. Other Catholic bloggers have written far more knowledgeably and effectively than I could have done, on the recent intensification of the effort to re-establish the Society of St Pius X clearly and visibly within the Church. I made a private commitment to stop at any churches or basilicas we visited or passed, to say a heartfelt prayer for the intention of this major restoration. In fact we passed hardly any churches – at least, open ones – during the course of our wanderings. Sant’Agnese in Agone; Santa Maria Maggiore; San Paolo fuori le Mura; and there may have been one or two others. I think this was the first time I had ever prayed to St Paul. We both liked his basilica very much; lovely in itself, and set behind a charming courtyard garden; green and tranquil in its remoteness from the bustle of the centre. EasyJet used to fly to and from Ciampino, which we now think of nostalgically as a friendly little airport compared with the exhausting maze of Fiumicino. This was our first experience of it, and we will have to steel ourselves if we ever go there again. Our experience of the security area felt rather frantic: I think we used three or four trays, because they kept being whisked away on the conveyor belt before we could sort ourselves out with watches and mobile phones and jackets and so on. Talking of steeling ourselves: Dear Husband has metal implants, which always set the alarm off. In addition, since our last flight I have acquired some metal screws in one of my feet. I had already looked up the Italian for screws, and warned the security man about them, but he looked at me blankly. My appalling accent? A likely story? I will never know. I went through the frame, and off went the alarm. A young female security officer stood in front of me, with her arms held out wide, and her hands encased – worryingly – in latex gloves. Having become rather confused by then, I assumed at first she was directing me onward, and went to step to the side of her; but she very politely forestalled me, and waggled her hands, at which I got the message. I stood there very calmly while she did the patting-down routine. Could have been worse. On reflection, I think she must have had a quota of certain more or less shifty types to frisk; I suppose I came into the category of “Deceptively harmless-looking old Englishwoman who is Probably Not What She Seems”. Dear Husband said afterwards that our progress through Security reminded him of the fugitive Mel Brooks and Madeline Kahn in the film High Anxiety, pretending to be an elderly Jewish couple going through airport security very, very noisily, on the reasonable ground that the most effective disguise is to be as flamboyant as possible. We’re not really terrorists. I thought I’d better say that.

A Sword for the Heart of St Joseph

The sword spoken of by the prophet Simeon, on the occasion of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple – the sword that was to pierce the heart of Mary – was surely not the only sword. St Joseph was also to receive a blow to his heart; but unlike Our Lady’s, his sword is not referred to specifically.

St Luke provides us with the dramatic account of the disappearance of the twelve-year-old Jesus, at the end of His family’s pilgrimage to Jerusalem. His distressed parents, after three days of searching, discover Him in the Temple, among the teachers, who are astounded at His understanding.

Mary: “Son, why have You treated us so? Behold, Your father and I have been looking for You anxiously” Or, to use another translation, which I think has more impact, “Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.”

Jesus: “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father’s house?” Or, as I recall from another version. “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

There are a few things I’d like to consider in this exchange. Firstly, it gives a strong impression that Mary and Joseph had not told Jesus about the uniqueness of His origin. Jesus seems to have been raised as an ordinary child of ordinary parents, being brought up to love Joseph in the most natural way, as His father. They gave everything else into the hands of the Lord, to reveal in His own good time.

After three days of desperate worry, having lost not only their beloved son but the precious child entrusted to them by God, Mary and Joseph find Him in the most unexpected of places: among the doctors of the Law. Not only this, but discussing holy matters with them, and, to cap it all, more than holding His own, and amazing these learned men with the breadth and depth of His knowledge.

Our Blessed Lady, in her understandable distress, speaks to Jesus of her bewilderment that He should have done such a thing to her and to St Joseph. How could He cause such sorrow to His mother, and to His father?

Here I am going to make what may appear to be a slight digression. I understand that some scholars of the New Testament take the view that Jesus did not know Who He was: at least, before this or that point in His life. I’m no scholar of the Scriptures, merely a reader, but this doesn't ring true to me. I have the impression that while there are certainly passages in which - to use the best expression I can think of - He seems to hold a veil between His earthly mind and His divine consciousness, there are many others in which Our Lord Jesus speaks as though He clearly knows exactly Who He is. I feel sure that the incident of the finding in the Temple is the first recorded manifestation of Jesus’s knowledge of Himself; a manifestation which must have come as a jolt to Mary and Joseph.

“Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.” “I must be about My Father’s business.” This from a twelve-year-old boy, whose distraught parents have just found him after three frantic days of searching. I think this must have pierced their hearts; and on this occasion most poignantly the loving heart of Joseph, who was the best of earthly fathers to Him, and would continue to be so.



Picture from catholicsource.net, via Google Images