Posts
Rorate C. is a very useful site, but I do wish that when they published extracts from this report last week that they had not interspersed it with commentary. As much as I wanted to read the report, I did not want someone else's interpretation. Let me read a thing first and look at the interpretations of others afterwards. For this reason I was extremely grateful to Mark for sending me the 14 out of 95 pages of the report that are on public release, although not readily available. These 14 pages, I have now studied twice. I will record my reactions here as soon as possible.
Even before reading a word of it, one thing struck me forcibly about this year's report, and that is the way it was publicly presented to the Holy Father, compared with the rather low key almost secretive manner that characterised last year's presentation. At the time, I asked Zenit why this was so but they never replied. The way the first Una Voce report was handled left me with an uneasy feeling that maybe it never reached the Holy Father. He was supposed to have received it and we were told that it had gone to Ecclesia Dei and some of the dicasteries. Which ones?...... we were never told. At least with this second report we know the Pope did receive it. Leo Darroch gave it into his hands with the cameras on them both and a verbal report explaining what was happening.. One can only hope that Mgr Ganswein spirited the document away and locked it in the papal safe until such time as the Holy Father requests that it be brought to his desk. One thing that the public nature of this year's presentation tells me, is that Una Voce and all who support Pope Benedict's efforts towards the 'reform of the reform' are more confident than they were 12 months ago.
Nevertheless, the most chilling statement in the report (supported by 'naming of names' detail which the Holy Father will see in the report's unpublished Part III) appears at the beginning of its second paragraph:
"Perhaps the greatest reason for the current crisis in the Church is that too many people in the Church, particularly in senior positions, no longer accept the authority of the Pope."
Saint Michael defend us in the day of battle.
Lord, uphold and strengthen Your chief shepherd, Benedict and have mercy on us all.
More on Tuesday DV
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
St. Romain: Two VIPs coming to spend the weekend with us at the end of this month...
And I assure you, they are VERY VIPs but I'm not yet at liberty to reveal who they are. However, preparations for their arrival, which, in spite of all the roof problems, have been in train for some time, must now take precedence. Therefore during the next three weeks, posts on this blog will only appear every other day.
God bless all here.
Jane
God bless all here.
Jane
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
All Souls Day 2009: In a rural French cemetery: Pt. 2 "My steadfast love shall not depart from you..."
I apologise for the delay in publishing this post. It's been a demanding week spiritually and temporally, not just in personal life but in everything one has had to deal with outside of that.
First, a note about the cedar tree which featured in the last post. Not long after I wrote about it in 2001, the news reached us in London that there had been a freak tempest in St. Romain which had done tremendous damage in the village and surrounding area. Our own house had not escaped. However, when I next went there, I discovered to my sorrow that the storm had been so powerful as to sweep away the cemetery bench, but worse, it had uprooted and destroyed the beloved cedar. In its absence the cemetery feels exposed and vulnerable. (The Commune has replaced it with two or three cypresses. It will never be the same again. Why could they not have been patient and planted another cedar?) But always, always when I visit the cemetery now, I close my eyes and remember the lessons taught by that old lost friend, and imagine it is still there.............
All Souls Day 2009
The weather had been foul, but today around lunch time the sky was blue with not a cloud in evidence. At around half past mid-day I tramped off up the road with the usual tools, and this year not the bouquet described in the earlier post, but a pot of densely flowering yellow button chrysanthemums. When I opened the iron gates, as I expected, a blaze of colour lay before me. As usual almost every grave had been adorned. The predominant colours this year were yellow and white with the occasional touch of penitential magenta or darker than that. As always I was comforted by the sight, even though I know that in many, if not most, cases the graves had not been decorated out of any religious impulse. But Iwas in for a surprise.
As I went down the central avenue I noticed that the wind had knocked many of the pots over and I stopped to prop them up before finally arriving at my mother's grave. She is buried next to our erstwhile next-door neighbour Madame M..... who was a dear friend to her and to me. And so visiting this spot is to revisit my entire life and particularly the French part of it.
I set to work on the grave, digging a hole in the gravel so that I could bury the pot of chrysanthemums up to the rim, thus making sure the wind would not be able to budge it. I thought I was alone, but it was not so. Turning suddenly, I saw Madame B..... two grave rows away. I hadn't seen her for years but I waved to her and she came over to me. We had a most wonderful conversation about Madame M., my mother and their friendship and about old St. Romain. I was aware throughout that she could not have had such a conversation with any other English person who now resides in the village, which we have known for 20 years. When we came, French attitudes were different. And we discussed all that. Then she told me something funny, well in a macabre way, about Madame M's husband who died in 1960, 31 years before his wife.
This is what Mme B told me: M. M..... was not a believer, and in fact was a bit of a provacateur. He insisted on eating meat on Good Friday. Mme M. who was not a Mass attending Catholic, nevertheless refused to cook it for him and told him to go off into the woods every Good Friday and cook and eat his entrecote there. He did this for years, and for the last time in 1960. Having relished his steak, he died on Good Friday night that year. Apparently one of his work colleagues who was of the same opinions and who liikewise indulged in the Good Friday woodland steaks also went to meet his Maker on Good Friday a couple or years later.
At one point during the conversation Mme B left me for a while and returned to her grave tidying so I was able to have peace with my mother for a while. By the time Mme B rejoined me the sky was threatening and we decided it was time to go. On the way back down the straight road to the village, we continued to chat as old ladies do about the old times, and managed to reach our homes before the heavens opened.
First, a note about the cedar tree which featured in the last post. Not long after I wrote about it in 2001, the news reached us in London that there had been a freak tempest in St. Romain which had done tremendous damage in the village and surrounding area. Our own house had not escaped. However, when I next went there, I discovered to my sorrow that the storm had been so powerful as to sweep away the cemetery bench, but worse, it had uprooted and destroyed the beloved cedar. In its absence the cemetery feels exposed and vulnerable. (The Commune has replaced it with two or three cypresses. It will never be the same again. Why could they not have been patient and planted another cedar?) But always, always when I visit the cemetery now, I close my eyes and remember the lessons taught by that old lost friend, and imagine it is still there.............
All Souls Day 2009
The weather had been foul, but today around lunch time the sky was blue with not a cloud in evidence. At around half past mid-day I tramped off up the road with the usual tools, and this year not the bouquet described in the earlier post, but a pot of densely flowering yellow button chrysanthemums. When I opened the iron gates, as I expected, a blaze of colour lay before me. As usual almost every grave had been adorned. The predominant colours this year were yellow and white with the occasional touch of penitential magenta or darker than that. As always I was comforted by the sight, even though I know that in many, if not most, cases the graves had not been decorated out of any religious impulse. But Iwas in for a surprise.
As I went down the central avenue I noticed that the wind had knocked many of the pots over and I stopped to prop them up before finally arriving at my mother's grave. She is buried next to our erstwhile next-door neighbour Madame M..... who was a dear friend to her and to me. And so visiting this spot is to revisit my entire life and particularly the French part of it.
I set to work on the grave, digging a hole in the gravel so that I could bury the pot of chrysanthemums up to the rim, thus making sure the wind would not be able to budge it. I thought I was alone, but it was not so. Turning suddenly, I saw Madame B..... two grave rows away. I hadn't seen her for years but I waved to her and she came over to me. We had a most wonderful conversation about Madame M., my mother and their friendship and about old St. Romain. I was aware throughout that she could not have had such a conversation with any other English person who now resides in the village, which we have known for 20 years. When we came, French attitudes were different. And we discussed all that. Then she told me something funny, well in a macabre way, about Madame M's husband who died in 1960, 31 years before his wife.
This is what Mme B told me: M. M..... was not a believer, and in fact was a bit of a provacateur. He insisted on eating meat on Good Friday. Mme M. who was not a Mass attending Catholic, nevertheless refused to cook it for him and told him to go off into the woods every Good Friday and cook and eat his entrecote there. He did this for years, and for the last time in 1960. Having relished his steak, he died on Good Friday night that year. Apparently one of his work colleagues who was of the same opinions and who liikewise indulged in the Good Friday woodland steaks also went to meet his Maker on Good Friday a couple or years later.
At one point during the conversation Mme B left me for a while and returned to her grave tidying so I was able to have peace with my mother for a while. By the time Mme B rejoined me the sky was threatening and we decided it was time to go. On the way back down the straight road to the village, we continued to chat as old ladies do about the old times, and managed to reach our homes before the heavens opened.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
All Souls Day 2001 and 2009: In a rural French cemetery: Part I. "My steadfast love shall not depart from you...."
Written during late Advent 2001 and extracted from "Gardening with God" (Jane Mossendew -Continuum 2002).
" 'My steadfast love shall not depart from you and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you.........' (Is. 54: 10)
On a slight rise to the west of our house lies the village cemetery, and in it grows a cedar that must be at least two hundred years old. Whether in flesh or spirit I will, during the mild, cloudless clarity of a brief December afternoon, make my way up the straight road from the house carrying tools for grave tidying. and a bouquet of rosemary, bay, eucalyptus and tricolour sage.
Heavy iron gates closed behind me, the intermittent noises of the outside world are muffled and distant. In more ways than one I stand at the boundary separating two worlds. Ahead of me lies a wide gravelled avenue with the cedar in a central circular clearing. To my right and left are the graves, ornate and simple alike, strewn with the faded tributes placed on them at All Souls by fathful families. I pass across the ground beneath the cedar branches, bone-dry and comforting whatever the weather has been.
As I approach my mother's grave it seems to me that the tree is breathing out strength, security and tranquility. I settle to the work I have come to do, the prayer I have come to offer, and even though my sorrow for her suffering is undiminished, there is no morbidity in my regret, nor desolation in my loss.
An habitual memory comes of visiting the cemetery with my mother in the early 1990s. She confided that during my long absences at work in London, she would often come here after a hard stint of gardening, to rest and think, sitting on the bench in the lee of the cemetery wall. She had been a widow for fifteen years, and I asked her if she did not find the place depressing. 'No,' she said, 'I think of happy times with Daddy and you. The cedar makes it so peaceful. There is nothing upsetting here.' As I hugged her I am certain we both knew she would be buried here, close to the cedar. The thought was unspoken, but she seemed contented in the acceptance of this place as the edge of her eternity.
We were happy together that day, and I feel it is then that we said goodbye, not seven years later, when her mind had been destroyed by disease, nor when she could no longer swallow, nor just before she sank into a final coma...................Her grave now tidy, I rest on the bench and, looking toawards the cedar, as she so often did, begin the day's meditation.
The first prayer is of thanksgiving for the love of my parents for each otherand for me, which like the cedar was strong, wholesome and unshakeable. And then, what else has the tree to say on this late Advent afternoon? It speaks of Balaam's poem in Numbers 24: 'The tents of Jacob....like cedar trees beside the waters!...A hero rises from their stock, he reigns over countless peoples.' And Balaam prophesies, 'I see him, but not in the present. I behold him, but not close at hand - a star from Jacob takes the leadership, a sceptre arises from Israel' (24: 6; 17).
Balaam's eyes were opened, albeit dimly, but later in Matthew 21, it seems that those of the chief priests and elders are deliberately closed. They will not see and will not accept the authority of Jesus. He exposes the chicanery of their questioning and they remain in the dark. William de St Thierry (c. 1080-1148), in his Treatise 'On Contemplating God' shows how we should contemplate Him in love, not interrogate Him in arrogance. We should not ask Christ, 'What are your credentials for authority?' but, 'How are we to be saved?' He loved us first and although he is stern against obduracy, he is gentle if we respond to his sacrifice of love, with love.
I began by thanking God for human love, which is good, and capable of withstanding much, but the cedar has reminded me that it is but a shadow of the love God proclaims through Isaiah, and the merest tiny reflection of the love shown to each one of us in Christ's redeeeming death.
It is time to go. I pause beneath the tree and reflect that even the 'incorruptible' cedar will eventually know decay. But the decay of our dead is temporary. My mother has not fallen into a bottomless cavern of oblivion. She is somewhere sentient with all the dead waiting for this 'corruptible' to put on incorruption, and this mortal to put on immortality.' As I reluctantly reopen the iron gates, my heart echoes Isaiah and sings with joy for the living and the dead,
'He will not hide Himself. Your eyes shall see Him, your ears hear Him. Blessed are they who wait.' "
" 'My steadfast love shall not depart from you and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you.........' (Is. 54: 10)
On a slight rise to the west of our house lies the village cemetery, and in it grows a cedar that must be at least two hundred years old. Whether in flesh or spirit I will, during the mild, cloudless clarity of a brief December afternoon, make my way up the straight road from the house carrying tools for grave tidying. and a bouquet of rosemary, bay, eucalyptus and tricolour sage.
Heavy iron gates closed behind me, the intermittent noises of the outside world are muffled and distant. In more ways than one I stand at the boundary separating two worlds. Ahead of me lies a wide gravelled avenue with the cedar in a central circular clearing. To my right and left are the graves, ornate and simple alike, strewn with the faded tributes placed on them at All Souls by fathful families. I pass across the ground beneath the cedar branches, bone-dry and comforting whatever the weather has been.
As I approach my mother's grave it seems to me that the tree is breathing out strength, security and tranquility. I settle to the work I have come to do, the prayer I have come to offer, and even though my sorrow for her suffering is undiminished, there is no morbidity in my regret, nor desolation in my loss.
An habitual memory comes of visiting the cemetery with my mother in the early 1990s. She confided that during my long absences at work in London, she would often come here after a hard stint of gardening, to rest and think, sitting on the bench in the lee of the cemetery wall. She had been a widow for fifteen years, and I asked her if she did not find the place depressing. 'No,' she said, 'I think of happy times with Daddy and you. The cedar makes it so peaceful. There is nothing upsetting here.' As I hugged her I am certain we both knew she would be buried here, close to the cedar. The thought was unspoken, but she seemed contented in the acceptance of this place as the edge of her eternity.
We were happy together that day, and I feel it is then that we said goodbye, not seven years later, when her mind had been destroyed by disease, nor when she could no longer swallow, nor just before she sank into a final coma...................Her grave now tidy, I rest on the bench and, looking toawards the cedar, as she so often did, begin the day's meditation.
The first prayer is of thanksgiving for the love of my parents for each otherand for me, which like the cedar was strong, wholesome and unshakeable. And then, what else has the tree to say on this late Advent afternoon? It speaks of Balaam's poem in Numbers 24: 'The tents of Jacob....like cedar trees beside the waters!...A hero rises from their stock, he reigns over countless peoples.' And Balaam prophesies, 'I see him, but not in the present. I behold him, but not close at hand - a star from Jacob takes the leadership, a sceptre arises from Israel' (24: 6; 17).
Balaam's eyes were opened, albeit dimly, but later in Matthew 21, it seems that those of the chief priests and elders are deliberately closed. They will not see and will not accept the authority of Jesus. He exposes the chicanery of their questioning and they remain in the dark. William de St Thierry (c. 1080-1148), in his Treatise 'On Contemplating God' shows how we should contemplate Him in love, not interrogate Him in arrogance. We should not ask Christ, 'What are your credentials for authority?' but, 'How are we to be saved?' He loved us first and although he is stern against obduracy, he is gentle if we respond to his sacrifice of love, with love.
I began by thanking God for human love, which is good, and capable of withstanding much, but the cedar has reminded me that it is but a shadow of the love God proclaims through Isaiah, and the merest tiny reflection of the love shown to each one of us in Christ's redeeeming death.
It is time to go. I pause beneath the tree and reflect that even the 'incorruptible' cedar will eventually know decay. But the decay of our dead is temporary. My mother has not fallen into a bottomless cavern of oblivion. She is somewhere sentient with all the dead waiting for this 'corruptible' to put on incorruption, and this mortal to put on immortality.' As I reluctantly reopen the iron gates, my heart echoes Isaiah and sings with joy for the living and the dead,
'He will not hide Himself. Your eyes shall see Him, your ears hear Him. Blessed are they who wait.' "
Friday, October 30, 2009
"Evangelisation of the Digital Continent"? Another of Jane's flights of fancy? Not really!....
What did I tell you when months ago there were rumblings from the Vatican about WCC day? First, I posted on October 18 last year: 'Pope Benedict: Will he be the first Pope to blogificate?' And again on January 17 this year, 'Pontifical Commission for Internet Communication' , althought in the latter case, I have to say that the Holy Father's own term 'evangelisation of the digital continent' is vastly superior to mine! Of course Papa has done even better than I suggested in these semi-serious sketches, but I trust you'll concede that I was on the right lines!
btw, here are some other things that I've suggested could/would happen:
Cardinal Newman would be beatified
The Pope will visit England (I first said that, well before the invitation was issued by PM Brown)
The Beatification and visit would take place after Card. M. O'C had retired and a new Archbishop appointed.
Even though the Holy Father may not conduct the Beatification, as that is against his recent practice, it is possible that he will be present at the ceremony. There have been several recent press claims that this may happen and Fr. Lombardi associated the two events in a recent statement.
The Holy Father would do something positive for TAC in response to the appeal they made to him after the vote for women 'bishops' at the Anglican synod.
You may wonder how I have managed to be so accurate. No, I'm not Cassandra; no, I do not have a direct line to Mgr. Ganswein. So what is it? Not telling, unless anyone asks, but I will say here than many other people who get it all wrong could do with knowing the answer.
Anyway, watch this space for my next 'Flight of Fancy'!
btw, here are some other things that I've suggested could/would happen:
Cardinal Newman would be beatified
The Pope will visit England (I first said that, well before the invitation was issued by PM Brown)
The Beatification and visit would take place after Card. M. O'C had retired and a new Archbishop appointed.
Even though the Holy Father may not conduct the Beatification, as that is against his recent practice, it is possible that he will be present at the ceremony. There have been several recent press claims that this may happen and Fr. Lombardi associated the two events in a recent statement.
The Holy Father would do something positive for TAC in response to the appeal they made to him after the vote for women 'bishops' at the Anglican synod.
You may wonder how I have managed to be so accurate. No, I'm not Cassandra; no, I do not have a direct line to Mgr. Ganswein. So what is it? Not telling, unless anyone asks, but I will say here than many other people who get it all wrong could do with knowing the answer.
Anyway, watch this space for my next 'Flight of Fancy'!
Dry or wet rot; Card. Murphy O'Connor to Cong. for Bishops; Card. Levada; and Anglicans- in-Waiting
Please note that I've moved the link to the Roman Catholic Spiritual Direction site to the alphabetical blog list below left.
Sorry to have been away at the Spiritual Mothers blog for so long. I hoped to post properly here today on the Anglican situation, but have been rather upset by domestic problems e.g. discovery of rot in the roof space next to our house chapel. We won't know until after the weekend whether it's wet or dry. Thank God the chapel is not affected.
If anyone's reading this, I'd be most interested in opinions about the latest appointment of our Cardinal emeritus as a member of the Congregation for Bishops. Let's hope the rumours are right that Cardinal Pell is about to be appointed to head the same Congregation on the retirement of Cardinal Re.
Other news this afternoon: The Holy Father will receive Cardinal Levada in private audience this evening. Let's hope this signifies that the AC concerning the Anglicans is on the verge of publication.
Washington Post: Interesting piece on Pope Benedict by Patrick J. Deneen, and which proves you do not have to agree with the Pontiff to write an informed and fair account of his actions and motives. It's quite a substantial piece and quotes at some length from Doctor Robert Moynihan's recent letter from Rome which dealt with the same subject. The final paragraphs following the Moynihan quote are particularly refreshing. Unfortunately, the first few commenters prefer to remain within the narrow confines of their own partisanship and completely miss Deneen's point. Read the piece here I found it a surprising relief after the ignorant twaddle that's been spouted about Papa B. 'fishing in the Anglican Pond', 'sheep stealing' from their fold, and parking his tanks on the Lambeth Palace lawn. Much of this nonsense has been peddled by people who couldn't give a fish's fin or a lamb's tail about the Anglicans anyway, and merely relished the development as another opportunity for 'Catholic bashing'.
Sorry link not working yet. Will try to fix it but in meantime try Googling 'Benedict the Radical' Washington Post. That does work.
Sorry to have been away at the Spiritual Mothers blog for so long. I hoped to post properly here today on the Anglican situation, but have been rather upset by domestic problems e.g. discovery of rot in the roof space next to our house chapel. We won't know until after the weekend whether it's wet or dry. Thank God the chapel is not affected.
If anyone's reading this, I'd be most interested in opinions about the latest appointment of our Cardinal emeritus as a member of the Congregation for Bishops. Let's hope the rumours are right that Cardinal Pell is about to be appointed to head the same Congregation on the retirement of Cardinal Re.
Other news this afternoon: The Holy Father will receive Cardinal Levada in private audience this evening. Let's hope this signifies that the AC concerning the Anglicans is on the verge of publication.
Washington Post: Interesting piece on Pope Benedict by Patrick J. Deneen, and which proves you do not have to agree with the Pontiff to write an informed and fair account of his actions and motives. It's quite a substantial piece and quotes at some length from Doctor Robert Moynihan's recent letter from Rome which dealt with the same subject. The final paragraphs following the Moynihan quote are particularly refreshing. Unfortunately, the first few commenters prefer to remain within the narrow confines of their own partisanship and completely miss Deneen's point. Read the piece here I found it a surprising relief after the ignorant twaddle that's been spouted about Papa B. 'fishing in the Anglican Pond', 'sheep stealing' from their fold, and parking his tanks on the Lambeth Palace lawn. Much of this nonsense has been peddled by people who couldn't give a fish's fin or a lamb's tail about the Anglicans anyway, and merely relished the development as another opportunity for 'Catholic bashing'.
Sorry link not working yet. Will try to fix it but in meantime try Googling 'Benedict the Radical' Washington Post. That does work.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
On the Feast Day of St. Therese: Congratulations to two favourite bloggers
As you know, I like to accentuate the positive wherever and whenever I can. You probably need cheering up if you have the misfortune to read the secular UK press. These two posts should do the trick. I beg you to look at both.
First is Annie at the LMS Arundel and Brighton site. She writes incisively and with brilliant logic about the idiocy of people who have been critical of the Catholic response to the visit of St. Therese's relics to the UK. I'll say no more. Just go there and enjoy. I've commented to her that she should send the post as a letter to the editors of our so-called 'quality' British newspapers and see whether any of them will have the guts or honesty to publish it.
Second is Chris Gillibrand at 'Catholic Church Conservation'. He has posted a video: 'At the name of Jesus'. All I'll say is, it's a sermon by a priest about the Blessed Sacrament. Again, go there and enjoy!
God bless you Annie and Chris. The Holy Father would be proud of you if he knew about your posts. Come to think of it, it's more likely now that he may know, than say nine months ago.
Both blogs are in the sidebar bloglist here.
And of course on St. Therese's day, we thank God that Birmingham will have Bernard Longley as Archbishop and that his inauguration will be on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception this year. Deo gratias.
First is Annie at the LMS Arundel and Brighton site. She writes incisively and with brilliant logic about the idiocy of people who have been critical of the Catholic response to the visit of St. Therese's relics to the UK. I'll say no more. Just go there and enjoy. I've commented to her that she should send the post as a letter to the editors of our so-called 'quality' British newspapers and see whether any of them will have the guts or honesty to publish it.
Second is Chris Gillibrand at 'Catholic Church Conservation'. He has posted a video: 'At the name of Jesus'. All I'll say is, it's a sermon by a priest about the Blessed Sacrament. Again, go there and enjoy!
God bless you Annie and Chris. The Holy Father would be proud of you if he knew about your posts. Come to think of it, it's more likely now that he may know, than say nine months ago.
Both blogs are in the sidebar bloglist here.
And of course on St. Therese's day, we thank God that Birmingham will have Bernard Longley as Archbishop and that his inauguration will be on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception this year. Deo gratias.
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