Consecration

Lovely to see those pictures of the consecration of Old St Patrick's Oratory in the Extraordinary Form on the New Liturgical Movement site, here. It all looks very splendid.

Shawn Tribe writes good notes on the ceremony, addressing, of course, the strange custom of the bishop writing out with the point of the crozier the Greek and Latin alphabets in sand or ashes laid out in an X shape in the nave.

It reminded me of the famous legend of the consecration of the original Westminster Abbey in the sixth or seventh century. Everything had been prepared for the ceremony the night before it was due to take place, and that night someone had a dream that St Peter himself was busy consecrating the church. In the morning, the monks got up and found the letters of the alphabets already marked out, and concluded that indeed St Peter had consecrated the church in the night.

I remember when seeing the pictures of the consecration of the new church in Wausau the same rather tiny cross being made as you can see in St Patrick's. The older custom, as I have seen in many photographs, was to remove all the seating, and make the X a vast one, from corner to corner of the nave. This meant, of course, that the laity usually did not get to see the ceremony, and perhaps this was why in these two instances a mini-X was made.

The (very rare) photograph shows the consecration of St George's Cathedral in Southwark in 1895 by Bishop John Butt. The Cathedral was, I think, by Pugin, but was firebombed in the second world war and now looks quite different. I scanned this picture from an old lantern slide.

School Forms and Statistics

Parish priests in England and Wales will be well aware that this is the time of year for school forms to be signed. Those outside this country may not be aware that we have a very large system of Catholic schools in this country, somewhat unusual in the world for the fact that they are not (most of them, any way) private, fee-paying, schools, but, largely, funded from public money. You don't have to pay fees, in other words.

The problem is (problem…??) that they are generally perceived as being better schools than the ordinary non-religious schools. Results are better, discipline is better and children are on average less likely to be sold drugs at a faith school than at a state school. Consequently, parents fall over themselves to demonstrate that they are faithful Catholics at this time of year, when the priest's signature has to be obtained to gain that all-important entry. Mass attendance tends to be better at this time of year than at any other. Last year, Channel 4 made a TV film about parents who pretended to be Catholics to get their daughter into a smart convent school—to find, to their horror, that their daughter actually started to believe the Catholic faith.

From the parents' perspective, I can quite understand why they should want to get their child into the best possible school that they can actually afford. I would, too, in their position. And it isn't all about results and discipline. Many of them are consciously aware of belonging, in however remote a way, to the Catholic 'tribe'.  They may not even be baptized, but they will remember that the only religious member of their family was Grandma, who was a Catholic, and who never missed a Christmas, therefore they too are Catholics, and want to assert that. But not, perhaps, by going to Mass—they wouldn't know what to do, and don't even have the sort of mental and spiritual structures developed to think that religion might actually make them happier.

That's one type. Much more common is the Catholic who would unquestionably think of themselves, and present themselves, as being 'practising', but who comes, perhaps, one Sunday in four. What is a parish priest to think about that?

What has brought this to a head for me is that the forms the priest has to sign have changed. Formerly, we had to write a sentence or two saying what we thought of the religious commitment of a family. I'm not sure that it made much difference as to whether a child was admitted to the school or not, but it was quite hard in some cases to say anything meaningful. Now, this year, for the first time, we have to do something different. The family themselves state how often they attend Mass, and we have to countersign, saying that we have witnessed their signature. We have another box to sign if we have reservations about what they have asserted as their level of practice.

What took me by surprise is the number of people who have ticked the 'one in four Sundays' box. In most of these cases I would have said that I thought I knew these people well, and, had you asked me, I would have said that they came most Sundays, and if they didn't, well, then they were away with relatives or whatever. They certainly present themselves for Communion. In some instances, I added a note to say that I thought they were much more practising than they said. There are inverse cases; on one form, I stated that though I recognized the people concerned, I thought that they didn't come as often as they said. For the last few weeks, to my shame, they have been present every single Sunday. Now, is it because I didn't notice them before, or because they are making a special effort now? In the latter case, it is especially appreciated, for the forms have gone in anyway, and they have nothing to gain. It would seem to be a genuine effort, and I wish I had written something else. I don't think it will affect the child's place, however.

Which is by way of saying; I think that on the ground, fewer people think of practice as being 'every Sunday and holyday of obligation' that did so in the past. The Church has not changed her precept, but the understanding on the ground, has changed, at least here (despite whatever I might have to say about it in homilies and newsletters). 

This morning, at our principal Mass at Shoreham, the church was absolutely packed. Thank God: I'm not complaining! I am told that there were in excess of fifty children at the 'Children's Liturgy of the Word'. If many of these are only one-week-in-four Catholics, then we would frankly not be able to manage if they all came every week. Our church is not big enough; I can't lay on another Mass, for reasons of Canon Law (I already celebrate the maximum permitted). We have a retired priest who is a supportive and wonderful help to me, but I cannot rely on his generosity in making plans for the future.

Which is by way of saying: I wish every Catholic practised his or her faith every Sunday and holyday. But, without more churches and priests, I'm not sure how we'd cope if they did!

More on Newman

I have received a clarification on the status of the Newman miracle from the Birmingham Oratory. It seems better to make a separate entry on this topic rather than trying to amend the former post.

Peter Jennings, the secretary to the Cause, says that in fact it was no surprise that the commission that met in Rome on 30th September did not reach a verdict; having only had the documentation for 8 weeks, and that period including the famously Roman closed season of Ferragosto, they needed more time, and also sought some clarifications which are being addressed. The five doctors who examined the cure have unanimously declared that they can see no medical explanation, and therefore it is down to the theologians to examine the case. These theologians will meet in due course, and will let their verdict be known when they are ready. Which is by way of saying that the miracle is still very much 'alive'.

Newman News

There has been quite a lot of debate following the course of the projected beatification of Cardinal John Henry Newman. As everyone now knows, his grave, when opened, revealed no body, but only some tassels and a coffin plate. Most of the debate on the internet seems to presume that these, together with a lock of his hair, will be placed into the great sarcophagus that has been prepared in the Birmingham Oratory church.

It has, however, been decided that this will not now take place, though many—including some senior clergy—wanted it, feeling that even a mere cenotaph would be a fitting place to honour Newman. The Oratory has, in my opinion, made the right decision. An empty sarcophagus would always be a focus for bathos, for some cheap giggles, and it will be the fact principally remembered about Newman's burial for years to come. Tours seeing the splendid marble sarcophagus would be told 'well, of course, it isn't actually his body; just some tassels and a bit of hair'. Much better that he rests at Rednal as he wished. The Oratory Church can stand as his memorial; it was, after all, built for that purpose.

One suggestion is that there will be a new, small, reliquary placed in St Philip's Chapel, which adjoins the Oratory church. Here the plate, the tassels and the hair, and maybe some other bits and pieces would be able to be seen, and perhaps honoured, for simply what they are. One father has commented that this would be 'more in keeping with the Cardinal's own humility and Oratorian sense of amare nesciri' [love to be unknown]. The sarcophagus would then be otherwise disposed of suitably (anyone need a sarcophagus?): perhaps it will be placed in the Visitors' Centre.

The other news is that the commission in Rome have, it seems, decided not to approve the hoped-for miraculous cure of that deacon in the US—or, at least, have decided that it is not sufficiently beyond question that this cure was due to the intercession of Newman. I don't know the details. This is a sad setback for Newman lovers, and no doubt for Fr Chavasse and the fathers at Birmingham. St Philip Neri, however, would have approved. He said that he wanted all his sons to be saints, but none of them raised to the altars, presumably lest they be tempted to pride. And maybe we should simply do some concentrating on seeing Newman as a hugely influential scholar and stop trying to squeeze him into a plaster statue, which, in some aspects might be a tight fit. Forgive the metaphor. But it takes me to another point.

I have long wished that the Fathers at Birmingham would build a really good Newman study centre, perhaps on the site of the former St Philip's College. There they could locate all the Newman items that at present clog rooms and corridors all over the Oratory house. They might even consider installing Newman's own library there, and move his entire room, rebuilding it exactly as it is (this has been done in other cases) inside another building, so that people could see through the windows and doorway into the room without actually entering (because this is deleterious to the contents) or, more to the point, without having to go through the Oratory House. There could be a couple of rooms with self-catering facilities for visiting scholars, and perhaps even a little flat for a librarian. I had once thought that perhaps they might construct a purpose-built Little Oratory there too, and even bury Newman inside it. This last is, of course, now impractical. 

(I do not, of course, presume to tell the fathers what to do with their own place: it's only an idea.)

Liturgical matters

More news from Rome, again from Zenit:

Holy See Approves 3 Alternative Closing Messages

VATICAN CITY, OCT. 14, 2008 (Zenit.org).- The Holy See has approved three alternatives to "Ite, missa est," the final words said by the priest at Mass.Cardinal Francis Arinze, prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, today notified the participants in the synod of bishops on the word of God about the new alternatives. The final message is currently rendered in English: "The Mass is ended, go in peace."
Benedict XVI has approved the alternatives, which were requested at the 2005 synod on the Eucharist to express the missionary spirit that should follow from the celebration of Mass.

According to Cardinal Arinze, the Pope had asked for suggestions to be presented. The congregation received 72, from which they prepared nine proposals. The Holy Father has chosen three.

The alternatives are in the revised third "editio typica" of the Roman Missal, which was printed last week, the cardinal said.

The alternatives are:

--"Ite ad Evangelium Domini nuntiandum"
--"Ite in pace, glorificando vita vestra Dominum"
--"Ite in pace" with "alleluia, alleluia" added during Easter season.

In English, these could be rendered along the lines of "go to announce the Gospel of the Lord"; "go in peace, glorifying the Lord with your lives"; and simply, "go in peace (alleluia, alleluia)."

The original Latin final message, "Ite, missa est," has not been modified.

Eucharistic compendium

Cardinal Arinze also announced that a Eucharistic compendium, also suggested by the '05 synod on the Eucharist, is nearly finished.

The book will define Eucharistic doctrine, benediction, Eucharistic holy hours, adoration, and prayers before and after Mass, he explained.

The cardinal further said that the Holy See, at the request of the Pope and the 2005 synod, is studying the most adequate moment during the Mass for the sign of peace.

The Holy Father indicated that episcopal conferences should consider two options: either before the "Agnus Dei" or after the Prayers of the Faithful. Each bishops' conference is to respond by the end of October, though there is a three-week grace period for late responses. The proposals will then be presented to the Holy Father, who will make a decision on the matter.

Finally, Cardinal Arinze announced that his congregation is preparing a volume with thematic materials for homily, with the aim of assisting and supporting priests throughout the world with their preaching.

She who presides in charity

I was interested to read this report from Zenit:

VATICAN CITY, OCT. 12, 2008 (Zenit.org).- A representative of the Orthodox Church who addressed the world Synod of Bishops spoke of the Bishop of Rome as a sign of unity among Christians.
Archimandrite Ignatios Sotiriadis, fraternal delegate from the Orthodox Church of Greece, spoke Saturday to the synod, which is focusing on the Word of God in the life and mission of the Church.

His address brought more applause than any other intervention in the first week of the synod.

"Your Holiness," he said, "our society is tired and sick. It seeks but does not find! It drinks but its thirst is not quenched. Our society demands of us Christians -- Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Anglicans -- a common witness, a unified voice. Here lies our responsibility as pastors of the Churches in the 21st Century."

"Here," the Orthodox pastor continued, "is the primary mission of the First Bishop of Christianity, of him who presides in charity, and, above all, of a Pope who is Magister Theologiae: to be the visible and paternal sign of unity and to lead under the guidance of the Holy Spirit and according to Sacred Tradition, with wisdom, humility and dynamism, together with all the bishops of the world, fellow successors of the apostles, all humanity to Christ the redeemer."

"This is the profound desire of those who have the painful longing in their heart for the undivided Church, 'Una, Sancta, Catholica et Apostolica,'" he concluded. "But it is also the desire of those who, again today, in a world without Christ, fervently, but also with filial trust and faith, repeat the words of the apostles: 'Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!'"

If the Archimandrite's words are also felt back home in Greece, then perhaps we really do have some cause for hope for better relations with the East.

Reparation

I had an email from a friend this morning alerting me to the fact that YouTube (that immensely useful resource) is far from being friendly towards us. Apparently it has removed a video it considers offensive to Islam, called Welcome to Saudi Britain, which urges viewers to petition the government not to permit sharia law in Britain. However, it has refused to remove 43 videos (yes, 43!) which show desecration of the Blessed Sacrament in various ways—including flushing a Host down a toilet.

The email suggests that we pray before the Blessed Sacrament in reparation. Good idea.

Also, we should mark the videos as 'offensive' and state why. The person who has posted [at least most of] them has the user name 'fsmdude'.

In my case I will certainly pray in reparation, but you must forgive me not going to see those videos. I don't think it would be good for me.

O quam zouave!

There's a very interesting post on Fr Nicholas's blog at the moment about the Papal Zouaves. The Papal States certainly had the most interesting uniforms for its military personnel, borrowing from all sorts of different countries. The Zouaves must surely be the most extraordinary, with wide turkish trousers and floppy hats. And, following up a link on Fr Nicholas' blog, I discovered that there are still troops of Zouaves to be found in France, as these photographs reveal.

Funeral of Pope Pius XII

Here's a Youtube video showing scenes from the funeral of Pope Pius XII. What an extraordinary sight that procession is!

Sri Lanka's new archbishop (probably)

They used to call it kicking upstairs; Montini was sent to Milan as its archbishop, and this was read in Rome as a sort of disgrace. Bugnini's appointment to Teheran likewise. It's all very mediæval, really, this perception of the royal court as the real place to be. Better to empty the dustbins in the king's court than be a duke in the provinces. So now Archbishop Ranjith is to leave Rome for Sri Lanka, if the rumours are to be believed.

Some no doubt will see this as a curial coup. Ranjith was not universally popular, it has to be said, and it is rumoured that even in the Congregation for Divine Worship there was a deep split between those who welcome the Benedictine reforms, and those who resent them. Is this another manifestation of this divide? On the other hand, Ranjith is rumoured to have been a not unmixed blessing to Pope Benedict's admirers, having a sharp temper and a not-always-tactful tongue.

But surely we do not think in mediæval terms these days. Not all of us, anyway! The Indian sub-continent (of which, I suppose, Sri Lanka can be said to be a part) is a very mixed bag indeed. One the one hand, we have the stupendous example of the Missionaries of Charity. And then on the other hand we have considerable heterodoxy and heteropraxis. A visit by an Indian bishop to a priest friend of mine left my friend deeply shocked at the way his visitor, to whom, naturally, the facilities of the church were freely extended, improvised the liturgy of the Mass—even the Canon—and combined this with a personal arrogance towards his host and another priest from his own diocese. This is reportedly quite a widespread phenomenon. So, if Ranjith has been sent to the subcontinent, albeit on an island off the coast, perhaps he is just the person to bring things a little more into line with the rest of the Church before it goes very wonky indeed. We must also remember that Sri Lanka is where that chap Tissa Balasuriya came from; if the bishops there had done their job, it would perhaps never have been necessary for the then Cardinal Ratzinger to pull him into line, thus giving undue prominence to Balasuriya's opinions and giving him the status (in some peoples' eyes) of a martyr, persecuted by the Roman Inquisition.

So, if the rumour is true, Archbishop Ranjith, far from being exiled, may in fact be sent to exert some very necessary influence back home.

Interesting statistics from France

According to a French e-newsletter I subscribe to, Paix Liturgique, there has been a poll taken of French Catholics about their attachment to the Extraordinary Form. It is, to say the least, interesting, though one wonders how wide a field they used. 

(My translation)

Question: If there were a Mass celebrated in Latin with Gregorian chant in its old form in a church near your home, or in your parish, how often would you attend it?

Every Saturday or Sunday:

3% of Catholics

19% of those who regularly practise.

At least once a month:

4% of Catholics

15% of those who regularly practise.

On Special occasions and great feasts:

37% of Catholic

9% of those who regularly practise.

Never:

37% of Catholics

28% of those who regularly practise.

No opinion:

2% of Catholics

2% of those who regularly practise.

Comments from Paix Liturgique.

1) These figures sweep away the soapbox rhetoric that says 'there is no liturgical problem in France': 'The Traditional Mass does not interest the Church of today'; These figures confirm the evidence of our own observation every Sunday over the last two years in churches of the diocese of Nanterre.

(a) In every parish there are very many faithful who, though generally content with the ordinary form of the liturgy, would prefer to sanctify themselves with the extraordinary form were it to be celebrated in their parishes.

(b) The immense majority of faithful attached to the traditional liturgy are not those whom one sees in the chapels served by the Ecclesia Dei communities or by the Fraternity of St Pius X: these faithful who love the traditional liturgy are principally still in their own parishes, and ask only one thing; that they can live again their faith according to the rhythms of the traditional liturgy in their OWN parishes. No, the Catholics attached to the extraordinary form are not merely 3%, but 20-25% of French Catholics.

2. As the Holy Father reminded us on the plane bringing him to France, the Motu Proprio was not for the benefit of a tiny minority of the faithful: this tiny group is 19% of the regularly practising Catholics—one in five. Now look at the 34% (those who are 'practising' in the current understanding of the term, which is to say who attend at least once a month). Here the figure is one in three. A small group, yes, but hardly beneath consideration!

3. This survey confirms what others have called the 'Rambouillet effect' or the 'Saint-Cloud effect', or, more recently, the 'Notre Dame du Travail effect' (from the church in the 14th Arrondisement) where, to everyone's surprise, it was noticed that among those attending the traditional rites in these new locations, were a large proportion of those who had until now been quietly attending the ordinary form, and who now have the opportunity of living their faith according the rhythms of the extraordinary, even if these have not been known to their parish priests (and especially what their liturgical preference was). So, when a Mass is moved from one place to another (to Saint-Cloud from Nanterre, to Notre-Dame du Travail from St Paul's Chapel, to the parish of St-Pierre-de-Montrouge and tomorrow perhaps St Francis Xavier (7th Arr.) from Notre Dame du Lys (15th), it is principally ordinary parishioners from that place who will turn up for the Mass, and not people who have simply moved location, as it had, mistakenly, been formerly believed.

4. The survey finds that the vast majority of the faithful who would love to assist at the traditional Mass, presently attend the liturgy in the ordinary form regularly and assiduously, and have done so in their own parishes for many years. These faithful are Mr & Mrs Joe Bloggs [Monsieur et Madame tout le monde]; they have enjoyed good relationships with their fellow parishioners for years, are well known to their parish priests and have engaged themselves in parochial activities just like anyone else.

So even if some journalists are scare-mongering and acting like scarecrows, for example the TV news broadcast on TF1, 6th October 2008, at 1pm, where it was explained to us that we should 'beware of those faithful attached to the extraordinary form', on the pretext that they 'stir up trouble, and are enemies of the Church and of Vatican II'. It must be said again that this argument does not stand up to reality.

The results of this scientific research are overwhelming for those who either want no traditional Mass at all, or who want it kept in a kind of 'Indian reservation', so we should not be surprised to find them taking refuge in misinformation and misrepresentation: 'he who wants to kill his dog says that it has rabies', as the proverb goes, or, as Voltaire said: 'Lie, lie; something will always stick!' Nothing very Christian about all this!

5. We have never contested the fact that the faithful attached to the traditional liturgy are in the minority right now, but is that sufficient reason to ignore them? Because they represent only 19-34% of  currently practising Catholics, is it right not to satisfy their legitimate liturgical aspirations and not implement Pope Benedict XVI's Motu Proprio in the parish? After hearing these figures, more than ever applicable in the Diocese of Versailles, can we really regard the recent decision of Mgr Aumônier to refuse the pressing request of hundreds of faithful in the parish of Notre-Dame as being serious and credible?

6. When TF1 journalists stipulated in the broadcast already mentioned that traditionalists number between 2 and 3% of the faithful, they only took count of those who presently attend the churches and chapels that exclusively use the traditional rites (the churches and chapels of the Pius X Fraternity, and their friends, and those allied with Ecclesia Dei). In any analysis, this does not reflect the real aspirations and demand.

7. Only 28% 'never' want to attend a traditional Mass in their parish. Only a small group feel uninterested in the freedom granted by the Motu Proprio of Benedict XVI. This is not necessarily hostility towards the the old form, but simply a lack of personal interest. And of course what will remain of this minority when they know more about the Motu Proprio?

8 Therefore it is not clear how, in the supposedly 18,000 French parishes, there have been only 60 new instances of the application of the Motu Proprio since its publication. According to Mgr Antoine Herouard of the French Episcopal Conference, this number corresponds roughly to the number of requests that were made. Doubtless he was overlooking the hundreds of requests that were either ignored or manipulated!

The reality is that these 60 new places of celebration are not commensurate with the real requests in the parishes which many bishops and parish priests continue to deny, or to dismiss on the grounds that 'there is no demand'. We repeat; in any place that a courageous priest decides to implement Summorum Pontificum, 20% of his parishioners will respond. The example of Laval is typical: the bishop had decided on his own authority to implement the Motu Proprio in a pretty church in the centre of town. From that time, 200 people have assisted at the Extraordinary form Mass every Sunday, and this in a parish where nobody had even requested it! Q.E.D.

9. We should specify finally that the results of this poll, coming after forty years of disdain and liturgical apartheid, during which it has been possible to say whatever one liked against the traditional liturgy, are truly exceptional. Despite 40 years of misinformation, the faithful remain attached to the traditional liturgy of the Church. Let us project ourselves forwards in time and ask ourselves: What will be the figures when the celebrations in the EF in parishes are multiplied, and when an even greater number of people will again know this liturgical form?

10. These results only encourage us in our work of communication and information; we must once more thank our Pope Benedict XVI again and again for his courageous act in favour of peace and unity. God grant that all Catholics listen and hear with kindness and intelligence.

P.S. This survey cost exactly €4000. Thanks to all who have helped with contributions. Cheques, payable to Paix Liturgique, can be sent Paix Liturgique, 3 Avenue Boileau, 78170 La Celle-Saint-Cloud, France.

Cooking in Latin

I was watching a TV programme about a royal chef who supposedly had written the first ever cookery book, The Forme of Cury. He worked for the famous epicure, King Richard II, and the recipes are of the sort of 'Take one Leoparde, and smite him; pluck and draw three Brace of Peacocke and stuffe hem upp the Lepparde and seethe for six monthes." I thought at the time that this was really unlikely to be really the first cookery book; my mind went straight to Apicius' De Re Coquinaria, written in the fourth century or so, which encourages one to eat things like dormice cooked in mulsum and fish sauce. Interesting, certainly, but I was most pleased today to come across a gentleman called Bartolomeo Platina. He was, of all things, the Vatican librarian under Pope Sixtus IV, which is to say, in the last half of the fifteenth century. He seems to have been a man of considerable bad temper, which got him into trouble more than once. He wrote a treatise against unwise love affairs, a serious history of the popes (the first to be written, and positively slanderous against his enemy, Pope Pius II) a history of the Gonzaga family and, most important, a cookery book called De honesta voluptate et valetudine, or Honest Pleasures and Health. Here's one recipe:

Integrum haedum aut quartam partem, tessellis laridi et spicis mundi alii circumquaque impacti, veru ad ignem volvito, humectatoque cum ramusculis lauri aut rosmarini, ex hoc quod nunc scribam condimento. Cum acresta cumque iusculo pingui duo vitella ovi bene agitata, duas spicas alii bene tunsas, modicum croci, parum piperis misceto in pastellamque indito. Inde, ut dixi, quod coquitur aspergito. Coctum in patina ponito, partemque conditurae infundito, ac petroselinum minutatim concisum inspargito. Hoc obsonium bene coctum cito comedi debet, ne refrigescat; hoc non edat caeculus, quia oculos hebetat, veneremque et demortuam excitate.

My rough and ready translation:
Take a kid, or a quarter of a kid: lard it with bacon and garlic cloves and turn it on a spit before the fire. Using a branch of bay or rosemary, sprinkle it with the sauce which I shall now describe. Take some vinegar and fat broth mixed with two beaten yolks of egg, two cloves of well-crushed garlic, a little saffron, and a little pepper, and mix them all in a pan. Then, as I said, sprinkle the cooking meat. When it is cooked, put it on a dish, and pour over the remaining sauce and sprinkle with sprigs of chopped parsley. Eat the dish quickly while it is hot, and don’t let it get cold: my little blind friend won't do so [a joking reference to Filippo Buonaccorsi, a friend of Platina], because it dulls the sight and stirs up lust and weakness.

The picture shows both Platina (kneeling) and Pope Sixtus.

Flying high

I heard today via a sort of grapevine that a certain very highly placed cleric was invited to a ceremony in the West country a week or so ago, and, at considerable expense, bought himself a club class ticket on a small airline for the journey. He was disconcerted, however, to find that the club class seats were in the same section of the cabin as the economy class seats—in fact, they were the same seats—the only advantage being called first for the journey and getting a cuppa in flight. This was all witnessed (let us never say enjoyed) by other (not quite so highly placed) clergy who happened to be travelling economy-class on the same flight. I am told there was a great deal of irritated ring-twirling going on.

EF Confirmations

Sorry about the thin posting; I'm very busy just now.

The Latin Mass Society have asked me to post this:

Last Chance to Register for Confirmations:

Now is your last chance to register for Confirmations in the Traditional Latin Rite at St James’ Church, Spanish Place, London W1 on Saturday 15th November at 11.30 am with Bishop George Stack.

Confirmations will be followed by Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.

If you are thinking of Confirmation for your child/ren this year, you need to register their details urgently with the Latin Mass Society. Please telephone or email to request a registration form and return it no later than 31 Oct 2008 to the LMS office.

Tel: 020 7404 7284.
Email: thelatinmasssociety@snmail.co.uk

The Tudors

When the new BBC drama, The Tudors, began its first season, I watched the first episode, and half of the second, whereafter I gave up in disgust. The phrase 'gratuitous sex' doesn't even begin to describe what I thought was the ill-concealed soft porn nature of the programmes.

A few weeks ago I happened to see an episode of the second series. As there wasn't any porn on display, I continued to watch. It would be an exaggeration to say that I was hooked, but I have continued to watch the subsequent episodes, even catching up on iplayer. I am forced to acknowledge that it 'has something'.

I say that reluctantly, because there is a lot that annoys me. The producer/ director/ writer/ whoever goes to enormous trouble to get some things very very correct—more accurate than any other version I have seen. But then there are such liberties taken with the history, the dress, the manners and even events.

What I think it gets absolutely right is the spirit and atmosphere of the time. And some of the characters are very well written and played. Fat and ugly Henry, played (oddly) by slim and beautiful Jonathan Rhys Meyers, is very well done. The slow decline from his virtuous, if extravagant, beginnings to increasing selfish wilfulness and self-deception, from the Renaissance Prince to cruel tyrant are beautifully portrayed. Maria Doyle Kennedy, playing Queen Catherine of Aragon is wonderful. Throughout she is a model of dignity and injured love, steadfast in her faith and loyalty to God and the King. The deathbed scene would make a stone weep, though the random bits of Latin torn out of liturgical context and prayed by stumbling ladies in waiting are a bit of a distraction. Anne Boleyn (played by Natalie Dormer) is a strange character. Beautiful, wilful, spiteful, ambitious, proud—yes, all these things came through clearly. But then her sudden accesses of piety were not worked into the character; in exhorting her servants to read the Bible provided for them, to attend daily Mass and to ask for the sacrament in her prison chamber; these seemed not to belong to the character, but were rather mechanical. Maybe they were trying to portray her as hypocritical in this regard, but I'm not sure that's true to Anne. Her faith was genuine, though inclined to the reform, in which, I believe, she was to influence Henry towards his usurpation of the supremacy, via her gift of Tyndale's book, the Duty of a Christian Man.

St Thomas More, played by Jeremy Northam, is also very well and sympathetically done, much of the dialogue of his trial and execution lifted directly from the various contemporary histories of More. (And then, all of a sudden, they had him pulled on a hurdle to the scaffold!)

Churchmen, it has to be said, are not well done. The Pope, Wolsey, Campeggio, even Cranmer are all, frankly, miscast, wrongly dressed, and unbelievable. Cranmer, played by Hans Matheson, is too young, too hairy, and far too un-ecclesiastical for the role. He looks like a twenty-something boybander wearing a strange anachronistic purple costume uncomfortably.

In fact, the odd thing is that all the characters are improbably beautiful. Maybe the justification might be that in his age, Henry VIII was flattered for his good looks, so he should be played by somebody thought beautiful in our age. Well maybe. If a woman can play King Lear, then I suppose Rhys Meyers can play bluff King Hal, and Charles Brandon be played by handsome Henry Cavill. That's the two of them in the picture. (And why does his wife, Henry's sister, not know French when she meets the ambassador? She had been Queen of France, for heavens sake, married to Louis XII!)

And there is still some violent sex. Shut your eyes, is my advice.

Brideshead

Christopher Hitchens has written an interesting review of the new film of Brideshead Revisited in the Guardian. He thinks it's pretty poor, but has a lot to say about the book, too, which he seems, a little reluctantly, to admire. You can read the review here.

Scouting for Boys

I suppose all of us can identify in our lives the four or five people who have really made a difference to us. Among those in my life was the late John Clifford. His job was an insurance clerk, but his vocation was a scoutmaster, and his passion was life.

In the troop to which I belonged, his influence was incalculable. He could rave, jump up and down with frustration at modern youth, but he was one of the steadiest and best people I have ever known. He did things which these days would be frowned upon; on his own he took thirty or more scouts out every week on foot or on bicycles into the wilds (or as wild as the Surrey hills and heaths got, anyway) using public transport; with only one or two other adults (and sometimes without), he took up to forty boys away camping for a fortnight, the responsibility being shared with 16-18 year-olds who were expected to exhibit a level of maturity unimaginable these days. And we all responded. Given respect and responsibility, we lived up to it, (well, most of the time). John 'Skip' Clifford would speak to us as nobody else did; as being small adults who simply lacked experience. He would (you couldn't imagine this now!) look the other way if we went to the pub (as those of us in the Senior Scouts frequently did from 16 or so years old) while at camp or on the weekly hikes or cycle rides. He taught us to discern good from bad, and not simply to run with the herd. He knew just why a Fuller's cake was so much better than a Mr Kipling cake, and Terry's chocolate so much better than Cadbury's. He would, walking along a high street, teach us to look above the boring shop windows and look at the fascinating building above. He taught us about Routemaster buses, trams, took us on train cruises, taught us knots. We learnt how to cook on open fires—something we always did on the camps, disdaining stoves of any kind. He taught us to respect quality rather than novelty, and to look beyond the obvious. And he loved the Latin Mass. 

I didn't always enjoy being a scout—it was very constraining at times for a teenager, and he would insist on us wearing the old khaki scout uniform when shorts were absolutely the nadir of fashion because, he very reasonably pointed out; the new uniform was very smart, surely, but hopeless to hike in, or cycle in, or do anything really interesting in.

By now you will have gathered that I think that this was such a good influence on my life that I am sorry that boys now do not get this experience much. Scouting still exists in the UK, but even when I was a scout, John Clifford came under very strong pressure to change it to conform to the less robust pattern that was then (and I think still) official policy. He strongly refused, because, according to his own principles, the modern version was not as good as the old, and if a thing ain't broke, don't attempt to fix it. I think that time has shown him to be right. The old principles of self-reliance and activity have disappeared now from our youth, on the whole. There is sport, for the sporty, but very little else to occupy a boy's mind (or a girl's, for that matter) that does not involve a computer or naughty substances. Since scout troops must now admit girls, there is no space really for a boy to be a boy except in football teams, which do little towards the moral and psychological development necessary if a boy is going to turn into a happy man. I don't think that constant mixing with girls is helpful: some is of course a good idea, but I think that separate groups too can be very useful in providing a space for growth without the complication of trying to impress the other sex. If women need their space, then so do men.

I have long been impressed with much French scouting. Going on retreats at monasteries in France, I have found that it is a rare weekend that does not have a troop or two camping in the grounds and attending Mass on Sunday, and even many of the other offices. These scouts are scouts as I remember them; there is strong and active esprit de corps, and the religious element is much stronger than in the English scouting movement. In fact French scouting was founded by two priests, and the faith is written into the law and promises of the movement.

Particularly impressive in my experience is the Scouts of Europe movement, which exist in most European countries outside the UK. I wish there were more hours in the day, and/or that I was twenty years younger, or that I could find other people willing to give it a try, but I would love to try a troop of the Scouts of Europe here in Shoreham. Consider these Scout Laws (rather different from the UK Scout Laws) as principles for a young man's life:

The European Scout Law:

The Scout is on his honour to be trustworthy.
The Scout is loyal to his country, his parents, his leaders and his subordinates.
The Scout must serve and save his neighbour.
The Scout is a friend of everybody and all other Scouts.
The Scout is polite and chivalrous.
The Scout sees God's work in nature. He loves plants and animals.
The Scout obeys without arguing and does nothing by halves.
The Scout is his own master, smiling and singing during hardships.
The Scout is sparing and takes care of what is others.
The Scout must be pure in his thoughts, words and actions.

The European Scout Promise:

On my honour, with the grace of God,

I promise to do my best to serve God, the Church, my Country and Europe,

To help my neighbour in all circumstances,

And to obey the Scout Law.

John Clifford died about five years ago, and at his funeral there were so many of his surrogate sons, many in tears. May he rest in peace.

Liturgical Linens

Liturgical smalls can be one of the most problematic area of sacristy maintenance, I find. The secrets of how to distinguish a purificator from a lavabo towel, or how to fold a corporal just right are, it seems, under the disciplina arcani, passed at a crossroads by midnight from one good person (usually women) to another. This can bring problems, because if a glitch gets into the system, it's very hard to convince somebody that what they've been doing (and their mother and grandmother before them) isn't quite right.

So I was delighted to see a publication, the Handbook for Laundering Liturgical Linen, and have bought several for my parish, and am delighted with the result. It is a very user-friendly introduction to the whole art, and my only regret is that it doesn't go on to deal with the larger linens, such as albs and altar cloths, the laundering of which remain sub sigillo.

Angelus Press is the publisher, and I gather the Society of St Pius X is behind the scheme, but I'm all for ecumenism if it means the amices will be properly cared for.

You can order your own copy here.

Pope Benedict in Paris

Andrew Cusack has posted a really good account of Pope Benedict's visit to Paris. I'm grateful to Fr Tim for pointing it out on his blog.

Our Lady of Shoreham

I have been watching with interest a house on the Upper Shoreham Road. Over the last couple of years, the inhabitants have been erecting vast wrought-iron fences—seemingly at night, for I have never seen them at work—then taking them down, and then putting them up again. They are nice pieces of work, though rather over the top for what appears to be a modest Shoreham bungalow behind them.

But then, to my amazement, a sort of rockery appeared behind the railings, topped with a statue of what looks like our Lady of Lourdes in wood (though possibly only coloured as wood) facing the house, with her back to the road.

These are clearly pious people, though I have no knowledge of any Catholics at that address. One of my parishioners, who lives on the same road, gently investigated. Apparently, these people are Coptic Christians. As I have remarked before, there are quite a lot of Copts in this area, though they tend to concentrate in Brighton.

But there is more. Apparently some Copts have been seeing visions of our Lady in Shoreham. I don't know anything further, but it's nice to think of, and certainly it is nice to see the statue of our Lady as I drive most days past it on my way to Steyning or Upper Beeding.


Another apparition was seen over Worthing in July: this one was apparently a UFO. You can read about it here. In fact last year, a similar sighting was reported in Shoreham itself. This sort of thing has never interested me much, though I know a major religious superior who is fascinated by it.

Silence

I'm so sorry for not posting over the last week: initially I had some very welcome visitors, and then a hefty bug worked its way through my body, pummelling one bit after another. Only this morning am I feeling human again.

New look

I actually liked the old look, but for some reason the links ceased to appear on the page. This is a very old look; in fact I think Valle Adurni began in this format. As in so much else these days, everything old is new again.

No doubt about it!

Some have been suggesting that the Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer (formerly known as the Transalpine Redemptorists) have not been reconciled with the Holy See, but simply that a couple of their members have had their orders regularized. Here is the refutation; it is perfectly straightforward—if you can read Italian—, and if not, my rough-and-ready translation is below. Congratulations, Fathers.

Father Gregory Wilson Rae Sim has returned with his community into full communion with the Catholic Church on 18th June 2008. This act of regularization has been accepted by Cardinal Darío Castrillón Hoyos, President of the Pontifical Commission Ecclesia Dei. Father Gregory had founded a group whom he called Transalpine Redemptorists on 2nd August 1988, under the guidance of His Excellency Mgr Marcel Lefebvre, and on that occasion took the name of Fr Michael Mary.

Now this community is reconciled with the Church, and the three priest members have been regularized. As a sign of this full communion with the Catholic Church, they have changed their name to the Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer, and they are en route towards the approval of their Institute. The community consists of 18 members, who have been approved along with the three priests. For faculties, they must proceed as the law requires. For the last nine years, the community has lived on the island of Papa Stronsay on the diocese of Aberdeen in Scotland.

Interesting

I have just made a list of fifteen diocesan clerics who would (in my opinion) make fine bishops and are, ceteris paribus, eligible. Not all these men agree with me in every particular, but they are all highly talented men, all anxious for the Kingdom of God. It is, however, interesting that not a single one of them has at any stage been promoted higher than parish priest [pastor]. One has been a Dean [vicar forane], but none has achieved any higher office. The only thing they have in common (beyond the obvious) is that they believe in every doctrine of the Catholic Church and are concerned that things in this country are not progressing as they might. All are pastorally zealous, most are fine preachers, all are loyal sons of the Church and loyal to their own bishops. Yet they have seen others with none of these attributes appointed over their heads.

The difficulty is that, unless one achieves an office higher than that of parish priest, one is never in a position to be noticed for higher office.

Right now, though a great deal of attention has (understandably) gone into the successor to Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor, there are actually at least six or seven episcopal appointments pending. 

I have very little hope that even one of my list of fifteen will make it. Two on my list have never even been allowed to make it to priesthood.

More from the Martyrology

Today's Martyrology has a few interesting entries.

7. At Ripon, in England, blessed William Browne, martyr, who, under King James I was condemned to be hanged and dissected for having persuaded others to reconcile to the Catholic faith. (The dissection, I assume, means quartering, and not being given to scientists as a hundred years later).

8. In a filthy ship anchored out at sea by Rochefort in France, blessed Florence Dumontet de Cardaillac, priest and martyr, who, during the French Revolution, was condemned for his priesthood, assisting his fellow captives and the sick with charity and zeal until illness completed his martyrdom.

9. In the city of Ninh Tai in Vietnam, the holy martyrs Peter Nguyen Van Tu, a Dominican priest, and Joseph Hoang Luong Canh, a doctor, who were beheaded out of hatred for the name of Christian. [I have made no attempt to reproduce the baroque diacritical marks in the Vietnamese names. Most days there are Vietnamese or Korean names in the Martyrology, which I forgot to mention yesterday].

10. In Calcutta in India [sic], blessed Teresa (Agnes) Gonhxa Bojaxhiu, virgin, who, born in Epirus, in order to quench the thirst of Christ abandoned on the cross in his poor brethren, founded the female and male Missionaries of Charity to give themselves utterly to the sick and abandoned.

Holy Moses

For some months now, as part of my daily devotions, I've been reading the day's Martyrlogy. My family kindly bought me a copy when we had a reunion in Rome in the spring. It really has been an interesting exercise. For instance, did you know that the Old Testament prophets and some other figures have an annual feastday? Today is the feastday of Saint Moses, for instance. The translation below is my own, done in rather a hurry, so excuse any blunders.

4th September

The day before the Nones of September, the third day of the current lunar cycle.

1. The commemoration of Saint Moses, prophet, whom God chose to lead his oppressed people out of Egypt and into the promised land, to whom also he revealed himself on Mount Sinai, saying 'I am who am' and gave the Law to govern the lives of the chosen people. This servant of God died, full of days, on Mount Nebo in the land of Moab, in sight of the promised land.

2. At Chalons, in Gaul, St Marcellus, martyr.

3. At Rome, in the cemetery of Maximus, on via Salaria, the burial of Pope St Boniface I, who settled many disputed ecclesiastical matters.

4. Chartres, in Neustria, St Caletricus, bishop.

5. Heresfeld in Saxony, St Ida, widow of Duke Ecbert, noted for her care of the poor and her assiduous prayers.

6. At Mende in Aquitaine, St Fredaldus, bishop and martyr.

7. At Cologne in Lotharingia, St Irmgard, who, as Countess of Süchteln, gave her goods for church building.

8. At Palermo in Sicily, St Rosalia, virgin, who on Monte Pellegrino is believed to have lived a solitary life.

9. At Cuneo in Piedmont, blessed Catherine Mattei, virgin, Penitential Sister of St Dominic, who suffered constant bad health, the calumnies of men and many temptations with wonderful charity and bore them with a host of virtues.

10. At anchor on the open sea just outside Rochefort on the French coast, blessed Scipio Jerome Brigéat de Lambert, priest and martyr, who, during the persecution of the French Revolution, being a canon of Avranches, was thrown into a prison hulk under inhuman conditions on account of his priesthood, where he died of hunger.

11. In the town of Sillery in Quebec, Canada, blessed Mary of St Cecilia of Rome (Dinah) Bélanger, virgin, from the religious Congregation of Jesus and Mary who lived only a short time dedicated to God on account of grave illness.

12. In the town of Oropesa, in Castille, on the Spanish coast, blessed Joseph Paschal Carda Saporta, priest from the Priestly Society of Diocesan Work, and martyr, who, while the persecution of the Church [in the Spanish Civil War] raged, was taken in glorious martyrdom in the hatred of religion.

13. In the village of Teulada in Spain near Lucentum [I can't translate this: anyone?], blessed Francisco Sendra Ivars, priest and martyr, who was martyred in the same persecution of the faith.

14. Near the village of Genovés in the district of Valencia, also in Spain, blessed Bernard (Joseph) Bieda Grau, a religious of the Order of Friars Minor (Capuchins) and martyr, who in the same turbulent period fought mightily for Christ.

et alibi aliorum plurimorum sanctorum Martyrum, Confessorum, atque sanctarum Virginum.

This is a fairly typical day, in fact. They might have added (but didn't) St Cuthbert, of course. Him they put on the 20th March. In the Sarum Calendar, Cuthbert is kept on 20th March, whereas today was his translation (presumably from Lindesfarne to Durham).

There are usually a couple of English martyrs—they often tend to coalesce around the quarterly Assizes—and a couple of priests from the prison hulks at Rochefort, some martyrs of the Spanish Civil War period, and usually a couple of names of people killed for being Polish by the Nazis, and beatified by Pope John Paul II.

Yesterday and the day before, there were commemorated countless numbers of clerics guillotined in Paris during the revolution. The numbers done on one day are quite shocking: On 1st September, 116 bishops, priests and other clerics in Paris, and on 2nd September another 75.

Chichester Carmel: In memoriam

Staying at Minster Abbey has stirred memories in me which I have buried, somewhat, as one does secret griefs. When I was a seminarian, I spent some weeks in the parish of St Richard in Chichester; this was to prove a significant time for me, for, amongst many other good things, I became acquainted with the Carmelite Convent that lay in the fields just outside the Chichester ring-road.

Yes, it was the Carmelite Convent—they spurned the nomenclature of 'Monastery' as a modern new-fangled thing (at least in their context), for these sisters had a serious history. They were founded in the Low Countries, at Hoogstraet, as a Carmel for English women during the penal days, and were driven back to Britain by the Napoleonic wars, which posed a worse threat to their contemplative life than the Protestant people of England. They managed to smuggle many treasures out with them—under their habits, the tradition goes. That must have been an extraordinary sight, for there was a remarkable Flemish tabernacle in ebony and silver, at least three feet high and two broad.

The sisters settled eventually in Chichester and built themselves a convent there, where they flourished like the green bay tree. They were, of course, delighted at the canonization of St Thérèse of Lisieux, but it brought a lot of trouble in its wake, for a number of Carmels were set up in Britain at this time, on the crest of the wave of enthusiasm, I suppose. The sisters told me that some French sister was responsible for about half of them. A Carmel is not really supposed to exceed twelve sisters (though it often did), or, exceptionally, twenty-four in a double Carmel, so as more young women wanted to join, they simply built more Carmels. That was great at the time, but it meant that once the enthusiasm had passed, it was harder to keep the number of communities going. Many merged; Chichester indeed, absorbed the former Carmel of Waterbeach in Cambridgeshire—in the process, two blood-sisters, the Prioresses of each community, met each other for the first time since their professions and were thereafter reunited.

In this way, Chichester kept its head above water, but in the early 1990s it began to feel stressed by the presence of many elderly sisters, and few vocations coming in. They looked at this and that possibility, but decided, in the event, to disperse and close.

They faced their future with typical courage and detachment. Their collection of precious things, smuggled out from the Low Countries, were sold at auction. Vestments were found homes here and there—some to St Richard's parish in Chichester, others to the Sacred Heart parish in Hove—the prodigious collection of relics together with the choir grille found their way to the Oxford Oratory where they can be seen to this day. The beautiful tabernacle mentioned above found its way to the Teresianum in Rome, I believe. The sisters themselves dispersed to the Carmels in Scotland, to Sclerder in Cornwall (near Looe) and two or three even to Terre Haute in Indiana, which Carmel also descended vaguely from Hoogstraet.

One special relic I must mention. At the time I am writing of—it must be 1994 or 5—I was the Diocesan Archivist (the most boring job I have ever held, but for this one event). I had to go to the Carmel with the assistant, now Fr Jonathan Martin, on my last visit, to authenticate some relics—which is to say, to supervise the opening of an old reliquary, transfer the contents into a new one, seal it up, and sign the certificates. The relics concerned were the wimples taken off by the Carmelite nuns of Compiégne as they mounted the scaffold for the guillotine during the French Revolution. Somehow they had ended up in the care of the Sisters of Hoogstraet/Chichester. These nuns were the ones that inspired Poulenc's famous opera Dialogue des Carmelites, and who famously processed one by one to the guillotine, having received the blessing of the Prioress, singing the Salve Regina. Finally the prioress ascended the scaffold and went to God when all her sisters had been seen safely home. It is one of those moments in one's life that one never forgets. The wimples, by the way, were being sent to the present-day Carmel at Compiégne as a very special gift.

To this day I still bitterly regret the closure of the Chichester Carmel. Those sisters had helped me take my first steps in prayer, and I miss them like a limb. I still honestly believe that the closure need never have happened had others taken an interest and helped. There could have been another solution. There were enough young and able sisters to keep it going, even if their older ones had to be found homes elsewhere, perhaps in places where they could be nursed. But even their dispersal and closure was, perhaps, a lesson to me in detachment. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

I haven't got any pictures of the Carmel, but the illustration above is the calligraphy they did for me on my ordination in 1989, a quotation from Blessed Robert Southwell. It stands opposite my bed, and I often think of the sisters and say a prayer for them. I don't know how many sisters are still alive now. Perhaps they all are. I hope so, and that they continue to help others find our Lord. 

If you happen to be reading this, sisters, thank you and 'God reward you'.

After having written the above, I came across this web page. It made me very sad. All the old faces are there.

Retreat in Thanet

I've been spending my few days of Retreat at St Mildred's Abbey, Minster, on the Isle of Thanet in Kent. For those who aren't from round here, that is near Dover, the nearest point to France. St Augustine landed here to bring the Gospel to the pagan Saxons of the Kingdom of Kent; there is a commemorative cross very near the Abbey.

The Abbey was founded only a couple of generations after St Augustine, and was peopled by nuns including St Domneva, the foundress; her daughter St Mildred, and St Eadburga, until the Vikings drove them out. In later years, the Abbey was refounded by Benedictine monks, who remained until the Reformation, after which some of the conventual buildings were converted into a manor. In the late 1930s, the Benedictine nuns of Eichstätt courageously circumvented the political turmoil of the days and refounded the Abbey (though at the moment it is technically a priory)—these days the twelve sisters are mostly English (though the young Prioress is German) and carry out the opus Dei of the canonical hours and the hospitality for which the Benedictines are famed.

They have a website here, and I commend them much to your prayers. It is very good to find such a flourishing witness to the Benedictine life alive and well in the South East. With Minster Abbey and St Cecilia's Abbey at Ryde on the Isle of Wight, we are very blessed with good Benedictine nuns in this part of the world.

Another candidate for Westminster?

Emerging from the stone under which I have been hiding for the last week or so, I find people still buzzing with the news that Mgr Jim Curry has been hotly (or at lest expensively) tipped for Westminster. Well, it's possible, I suppose; he was Cardinal Hume's secretary for several years, so he knows where a lot of the bodies are buried. However, unless Rome decides to go for a member of the magic circle, I doubt his chances are that good. Mgr Curry isn't in the obvious inner magic circle, but a little bit further out, so I suppose he might be regarded as a sort of compromise candidate. I'm sure Mgr Curry is an excellent chap in many ways, but I don't think he's likely to represent much of a change from current policy.

On the other hand, I have wondered about Fr Terence Phipps, the Parish Priest at St James, Spanish Place. A moral theologian (a good idea these days), he has been the Precentor at Westminster Cathedral, and has liturgical ability and gravitas. He can celebrate the Extraordinary form if required, though usually celebrates the Ordinary one. He is known for his work with the DePaul trust, a charitable organization. The fact that he is not a Mgr, but still a mere Fr suggests to me that he is not a member of the magic circle, but he is well known; if we were to have a secular priest from the Westminster Diocese for the job, which I think would be a good idea, it strikes me that (unless others know what I don't) he might well fit the bill.

Retreat

I'm away for a few days on retreat.

Dogs and eugenics.

I've just been watching a BBC1 exposé about canine breeding. They waxed all dramatic about the culling of Rhodesian Ridgeback puppies born without ridges—how appalling that otherwise healthy puppies should be culled simply because they are not convenient to the breeding programme. The ghost of eugenics was evoked; the horrifying breeding programme for humans of the early 20th century, and Adolf Hitler was again paraded as being a Eugenicist. But of course, not a word about another Eugenicist, that secular saint, Marie Stopes, nor about the culling of perfectly healthy humans because they are not convenient. 

Oh Lord! A prayer.

"If I look at this beautiful cathedral - it is a living proclamation! It speaks to us itself, and on the basis of the cathedral's beauty, we succeed in visibly proclaiming God, Christ and all his mysteries: here they have acquired a form and look at us. All the great works of art, cathedrals - the Gothic cathedrals and the splendid Baroque churches - they are all a luminous sign of God and therefore truly a manifestation, an epiphany of God. And in Christianity it is precisely a matter of this epiphany: that God became a veiled Epiphany - he appears and is resplendent. We have just heard the organ in its full splendour. I think the great music born in the Church makes the truth of our faith audible and perceivable: from Gregorian chant to the music of the cathedrals, to Palestrina and his epoch, to Bach and hence to Mozart and Bruckner and so forth. In listening to all these works - the Passions of Bach, his Mass in B flat, and the great spiritual compositions of 16th-century polyphony, of the Viennese School, of all music, even that of minor composers - we suddenly understand: it is true!" - Pope Benedict XVI

H/t Catholic News Update Asia

O Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?

My friends all drive Porsches — I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz

O Lord, won't you build me a big baroque church?

My friends all have gothics — I'm left in the lurch!

Worked hard in this wigwam, no help despite research,

So Lord, won't you build me a big baroque church?

That's it!

With apologies to Janis Joplin.

Feast and Fast

A nice piece on fasting and feasting can be found down under, here, on the Australia Incognita blog, which deserves to be known better.

Don't mind me — talk among yourselves.

I hope you've had a chance to read the 'Cardinal's' fascinating comment on the last post. He makes a number of very interesting observations, particularly regarding the fact that the text of the Mass posted on the US Bishops' website is still, very probably, going to undergo further revision. In some cases, I think this is a good thing; it isn't perfect yet, though it is an improvement on the last, erm, leaked, version. I was, for instance, very glad to see disappear:

Let our hearts be lifted high

We hold them before the Lord.

His Eminence mentions that there is a strong possibility that Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again will be restored to the post-Consecration acclamations. I do profoundly hope not. I have known quite traditional priests, who say nothing but the first Eucharistic Prayer, also use nothing but this acclamation. It was introduced, I suspect, for ecumenical purposes, because it is used by several other Christian communions at the same position (without, however the same alternatives that we have). And yet we are proposing to abandon the ecumenical principle in our texts now—why retain this one?

I personally think there is a very important reason to abandon this acclamation. It is the only one of the four acclamations currently in use which addresses Christ as if he were not present. The other three are based upon scripture and address our Lord in the second person, for he is now present on the altar. It is indeed the proclamation of the mystery of our faith, and the acknowledgement of the mystery of our faith present among us. The facts of Christ's death, resurrection and second coming are acknowledged in the creed; in the acclamation we directly address the Christ who has died, risen and will come again. Speaking of him as though not present seems to me well, simply, rude.

'Oh, don't mind me; talk among yourselves.'

ICEL and music

There has been a lot of discussion on the New Liturgical Movement site (passim) recently about permissions to write and publish musical settings of the new ICEL texts. ICEL (or perhaps the bishops' conferences that really pull the strings in the background) seem to be very chary about granting permissions. Why might this be? They allege the importance of keeping the texts pure. Well, yes, sure, but certainly people are going to write more paraphrased texts and publish those for use. We've seen plenty of these over the past years, and I can't believe seriously that we are not going to see more, permitted or not.

But perhaps there is something else going on. At a musical day in this diocese conducted by Stephen Dean a year or so ago, a setting of the Gloria in the new translation was produced for the assembled musicians to try through. The copies were all collected and counted back afterwards. This implies, does it not, that the approved liturgists and musicians (presumably Stephen Dean, Paul Inwood, Bernadette Farrell et al) have already had the new texts for some time. One may speculate that this is so that they may present the Church with its new repertoire some time soon, and hit the ground running, while other, non-approved, musicians must wait for approval, pay their royalties, and, basically miss the boat.

Am I being too cynical?

Update: Do read the comments to this; there is a particularly interesting one by 'The Cardinal'.

Email.

I'm having a lot of trouble with my email right now, so if you are trying to get through to me, I'm sorry. I'm also finding it difficult to email out.

A day with a difference

I have always said that there are worse places to live than Shoreham; today I tried something new, and with the parish Deacon flew from Shoreham Airport to Le Touquet for lunch. The flight cost only a little more than a taxi to Gatwick Airport, took 40 minutes, and on returning, we were in the car (which we were able to park at the airport right outside the terminal for £2 per day) about three minutes after landing. Less than an hour before writing this, I was in France. Not bad, eh? The landing was rather spectacular, too, coming right down the Adur Valley.

Out Loud (2)

I got distracted in the course of the last post onto what actually proved quite a useful topic. But I'd like to return to what I wanted to write about, and what seems to be under discussion right now. It concerns silence in the Mass.

What is clear is that the Catholic world is divided into three parts on this issue: (a) those who like a lot of silence at Mass (b) those who don't and (c) those who don't care much one way or the other. So much is obvious, and it also crosses the OF/EF divide. For instance, in the OF context there is actually quite a lot said about silence. Thus, from the (current) General Instruction on the Roman Missal:

32. The nature of the “presidential” texts demands that they be spoken in a loud and clear voice and that everyone listen with attention.[44] Thus, while the priest is speaking these texts, there should be no other prayers or singing, and the organ or other musical instruments should be silent.

45. Sacred silence also, as part of the celebration, is to be observed at the designated times.[54] Its purpose, however, depends on the time it occurs in each part of the celebration. Thus within the Act of Penitence and again after the invitation to pray, all recollect themselves; but at the conclusion of a reading or the homily, all meditate briefly on what they have heard; then after Communion, they praise and pray to God in their hearts.

Even before the celebration itself, it is commendable that silence to be observed in the church, in the sacristy, in the vesting room, and in adjacent areas, so that all may dispose themselves to carry out the sacred action in a devout and fitting manner.

51. Then the priest invites those present to take part in the Act of Penitence, which, after a brief pause for silence, the entire community carries out through a formula of general confession.

54. Next the priest invites the people to pray. All, together with the priest, observe a brief silence so that they may be conscious of the fact that they are in God’s presence and may formulate their petitions mentally.

56. The Liturgy of the Word is to be celebrated in such a way as to promote meditation, and so any sort of haste that hinders recollection must clearly be avoided. During the Liturgy of the Word, it is also appropriate to include brief periods of silence, accommodated to the gathered assembly, in which, at the prompting of the Holy Spirit, the word of God may be grasped by the heart and a response through prayer may be prepared. It may be appropriate to observe such periods of silence, for example, before the Liturgy of the Word itself begins, after the first and second reading, and lastly at the conclusion of the homily.[60]

[66] After the homily a brief period of silence is appropriately observed.

[71 Bidding Prayers] The intentions are announced from the ambo or from another suitable place, by the deacon or by a cantor, a lector, or one of the lay faithful.[68]

The people, however, stand and give expression to their prayer either by an invocation said together after each intention or by praying in silence.

[78 Canon] The Eucharistic Prayer demands that all listen to it with reverence and in silence.

84. The priest prepares himself by a prayer, said quietly, that he may fruitfully receive Christ’s Body and Blood. The faithful do the same, praying silently.

[147 Canon again] The people, for their part, should associate themselves with the priest in faith and in silence.

164. [Postcommunion] Afterwards, the priest may return to the chair. A sacred silence may now be observed for some period of time, or a Psalm or another canticle of praise or a hymn may be sung (cf. no. 88).

271. After the purification of the chalice, the priest should observe some moments of silence, after which he says the prayer after Communion.

Now what is clear is that silence in the OF is being used in a completely different way than it is in the EF. In the OF, with the exception of the offertory, the action of the Mass is interrupted to permit people to be silent together. Everything stops to let people pray in their own way, if I can put it like that.

This has one or two problems: 

• What does one do during these periods of silence? Make up prayers? Try and be contemplative for a moment? Think about things?

• And for how long? Any time I've started praying during these periods, I've only just got going when the priest calls us back to the sacred action again. A long and sufficient period for one person is not enough, or too much for another. Those of you who have stayed in a monastery where the Pater Noster is said silently except for the last couplet will know how hard it is to time two people's silent prayers together.

• Some people actively do not want to keep silence before and after Mass. This has been an issue in several parishes where I have served. Choirs, sacristans, servers, welcomers, all bustle before Mass, and this naturally raises the volume and encourages children to run around, deaf people to chat loudly &c &c. Appeals do not work, in my experience, except for a week or two.

Then, there is the issue of the offertory prayers:

• When I was first ordained and serving my first curacy in Crawley, one day, within a fortnight of my arrival, I had just celebrated Mass according to my intended custom, saying the offertory prayers quietly, when a woman stormed into the sacristy and shook her finger at me accusing me of being personally responsible for the lapsation of all the young people. 'You're driving them out!' she stormed. This was quite a shock for a young and uncertain priest, and though I never believed her, I never have had the confidence since to start saying them quietly again, except when there is music. The same lady subsequently became quite a supporter of mine, once she saw that basically we were on the same side.

• Fr Hunwicke deals sensibly with the actual OF rubrics argument here.

• Some people genuinely want to hear the offertory prayers. I have often experienced offertory hymns cut short so that the priest can say the prayers out loud. And if there is incense, then there is an uncomfortable silence when precisely music is desirable.

Now to the Extraordinary Form.

The silence is something different at an EF Mass. There isn't a sense of all being quiet together for a set measure of time, priest and people, but rather the priest getting on with something and the people doing something related, but different. This has led to accusations that the EF actively excludes the people. Is this fair?

Maybe one might take the imperfect analogy of a football match. Are the crowd actually involved in what is going on? Absolutely they are! In a real sense they are what the match is all about. The players don't just do it to amuse themselves, though they might enjoy a kick-about from time to time. The crowd are absolutely of the essence, though their participation is of a different kind to that of the players. The crowd never touch the ball, but are absolutely engrossed in the skilful play of the two teams. And, from a practical point of view, the two teams appear to entirely ignore the crowd and, again, from the perspective of the game and the league tables, it would not make a great deal of difference if the crowd were there or not. And still the game is all about the crowd.

At the extraordinary form, does the use of substantial slabs of silence actually exclude the congregation from participation?

I think that the answer has to be both yes and no. As at the football match, the crowd have to be kept on the terraces behind the barriers precisely to let the game proceed properly, there have to be barriers of one sort or another because of the nature of what happens at Mass. Some of the barriers are to do with dress, others to do with the layout of the church. These apply to football games, too [vestments/football strip (shirts, shorts, boots &c) & sanctuary/nave (pitch/terraces)]. In the context of the EF, you might add to this the use of a liturgical language, orientation and, yes, silence. When the priest is busy on something important, like when a footballer is taking a penalty, he needs silence to underline the importance of the action and also to aid concentration.

Sometimes the accusation is made that silence actually robs an activity of its meaning. 'I couldn't hear what was going on, so, as far as I was concerned, it was meaningless'. I remember a woman attending an EF Mass many years ago; the first she had been to in 25 years. She wanted to be polite, so she said afterwards, when asked how she found it 'Well, I'm sure it was very nice for the priest'. This rather underlines the cerebrelization (sorry!) of the Mass that has taken place. Is there really no way that communication can occur other than through speech? I should be very disappointed if that were true.

I think that, maybe, there is something here that deals with the differences between the sexes. It is a frequent complaint of women about their menfolk that 'he never speaks to me'. It's true. Men often don't speak much, especially about important things, and about feelings, and they often find that when something difficult is concerned, silence is preferable. This can drive some women mad, and, according to that extraordinarily insightful programme on marriage done a couple of years ago by Bob Geldof, the most frequently cited reason for a woman to seek a divorce. Women talk about their feeling much more readily than men do. Men do not frequently discuss the nature of their friendships with each other; at the pub, they will talk about cars, football, girls, whatever, but rarely about something really important. It doesn't imply even for a moment that men don't think that things are important, simply that some things pass beyond words, and it doesn't feel right to let it all hang out, as it were. Mens' friendships are often very enduring and can be very close, but the important stuff all passes unspoken of; there is even a feeling that it can spoil the relationship if it is ever mentioned. Cars are a safer topic. And men can also be intimidated by women's driving need to know everything, to have it all out in the open. It simply isn't the way men work. This is often expressed as men's inarticulacy, as opposed to women's ability to express clearly.

Almost all the objections to silence at Mass while there is action going on (whether at the EF or the OF) come from women. Somehow, men seem to 'get it' more readily. It is well within the male comfort space, but not for all women.

Consider two lovers. Generally it is the woman who needs to be told often that she is loved. She finds it reassuring and edifying of the relationship. If, however, she is attentive, she will learn to 'read' the man and even if he never realizes just how important this communication is for her, she will come to understand and appreciate him from a thousand other little things. A man is often baffled by why a woman wants to be told that she is loved. 'Why on earth would I have married her, then, if I didn't?' But when she gets it, she really gets it. This, too, has been my experience with women and the EF. Once they get the point of the silence, the articulate inarticulacy, they generally take to it more than men do. It's just a bit harder getting there.

Is this, perhaps, what Cardinal Heenan meant when he commented that the New Mass would not appeal to men as much as it would to women?

Out Loud at the EF?

There are several possible approaches to this. I remember a priest at the Oratory who thought that the whole Mass should be as quiet as possible. When the Mass was moved from the Little Oratory to the High Altar, and the direction issued that the microphone was to be turned on for the prayers at the foot of the altar, he felt so strongly about this that he would no longer celebrate a public Mass in the EF. In a church as large as the London Oratory, the wsss wsss wsss dialogue between priest and server was inaudible even at the altar rails, let alone down the church.

And then I remember a priest at a London church, now dead, who said everything either right aloud or in a stage whisper that was almost louder.

Is there a mid-point? Virtus, after all, stat in media. That's a pun. You'll get it in a minute.

In my own church, I keep the neck microphone (media, geddit?) turned on throughout Mass, and then proceed with the Mass either aloud or in the lower voice as directed by the rubrics. This means that the quiet bits are on the edge of audibility, so can be heard by those who really want to follow carefully, or can be tuned out by those who don't. Some don't approve of this, but I cite as my authority none less than Blessed John XXIII who, at his coronation did just this; the microphone was on the altar, but it was kept switched on throughout the canon, and you can clearly hear it if you try. This, presumably, must have been also the practice of Pope Pius XII.

I am far from thinking that this is all to be said on this issue. I may have more, and I may want to retract some of what I have written. I'd be interested in your views.