When I wrote yesterday that by last Saturday evening my 'interior diary' was almost full, I should of course have said that it WAS ALREADY FULL TO OVERFLOWING!
After Vespers and supper Father went up to his room to finish watching a film on his computer. Not much later, I crept up to the chapel as quietly as possible in case he had retired for the night. The first thing I found was that the sanctuary lamp had burnt out. Having replaced its light, I set about a general tidying up, laying out the vestments for the next morning, and then changing the colour of the altar furnishings from red to violet. As I worked something came into my mind from Rumer Godden's novel, 'In this House of Brede'. She wrote that on the night after the redistribution of Offices, no nun had gone to bed happier than Dame Winifred who had done a long and hard spell as assistant cellarer and had that day been appointed Sacristan. I've always understood why that should have been, but since this morning my understanding had been transformed into the reality of lived experience. Here I was, totally unworthy, completely alone with Our Lord as I worked, and so close to Him...........I am utterly incapable of describing my feelings or of telling you what I said to Him or of what He conveyed to me in the graced silence, a silence as profound and soft as dark violet velvet.
Work done, it was time for the Rosary. At the beginning of the latter, I was in front of the little shrine of the Sacred Heart, and as the Glorious Mysteries unfolded found myself moving from shrine to little shrine of the chapel - all in the sight of the glorious Eucharistic Face of Our Lord - as if presenting them to Him and seeing them myself with new eyes. First St. Thomas More, then St Francis de Sales and St Jane de Chantal, St. Bernadette, St. Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, then the Vincentian Saints, St Vincent himself, St. Louise de Marillac and St. Catherine Laboure of the Miraculous Medal.
At the Sacred Heart again, I prayed with St. Margaret Mary, St. Claude Colombieres, her director, and St. Jean Eudes, at last at the Salve Regina, arriving beneath the statue of Our Lady of Lourdes on her wall plinth. Others in the guise of their earthly representations looked on from the sacristy and vesting area, - St. Cecilia, St. Faustina, St. Michael, St. Jean Vianney and St. Gabriel. I begged the assistance in prayer of every member of this august company and felt the spiritual presence of my earthly living friends, some of whom will now be reading this.
Soon now I must go to bed, but kneeling again before Our Lord I could not be torn away just yet.
I do not know how long I stayed with Him, or how late it was when I finally descended to the ground floor. (When we have people to stay, we sleep in rooms downstairs so as to afford maximum privacy to our guests.) As I went down, one last look at the tabernacle and the glow of the sanctuary lamp in the surrounding darkness, and this long, beautiful, undeserved and life-changing day was almost over. Minutes later, as my head hit the pillow I remember thinking how indescribably wonderful and consoling it was that Our Lord was uptstairs and would be watching over us so closely throughout the coming night. 'Thank You Lord' I said aloud. And slept.
Next post: The First Sunday in Advent
Friday, December 4, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Extraordinary (Form) Weekend in France: Part IV - Benediction and First Vespers of Advent Sunday I
BENEDICTION
I regret having had to break off this report at the end of the Holy Hour. As we know, it is almost seamless with the beginning of Benediction where the latter follows the former. Until Father lit the candelabra I hadn't had any real hint that we were to have Benediction and had certainly not thought about its hymns. So when he began the 'O Salutaris Hostia', itwas a blessing that I had the presence of mind to join in. His pitch was perfect for my alto range. I'd sung Benediction from choir chapels and lofts many times in my life but had never before done it 'a capella' and in unison with the priest alone. I felt it deeply as an honour and a privilege.
We sang gently and steadily to Our Lord, as if breathing the wordsand notes of love, obeisance and adoration into His Eucharistic 'ear'. It was very moving but I didn't break down and didn't ring the bells at the Benediction itself, wanting to pour my whole self into my reception of it. And even the little bell would have cut shockingly and unnecessarily into the holy silence. Tears did come as Our Lord was reposed in the tabernacle, but inside I still sang because He wouldremain there untill the conclusion of Mass the next day. After the 'Adoremus in Aeternam' Father intoned the 'Salve Regina' and we sang that to the old beloved tune.
The morning had witnessed the first Mass of Ages in the village, probably for at least 40 years. Now the afternoon rejoiced again in another 'first'.. not only Benediction, but the chapel had known the sound of live human voices raised in the sacred chant to Our Lord and His blessed Mother.
Later, as I left the chapel, crossed the gallery and went down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen, I reflected that Our Lord had already made that little journey once so that Colin could receive Him in Holy Communion. He would make the journey again tomorrow. The parts of the house where He had passed would and could never be the same again.
VESPERS WITH THE HOLY FATHER LIVE FROM ROME ON KTO
Father and I followed this seated side by side at the computer screen. We were both eager to see the Pope bearing his new ferrula and agreed that we liked it better than his old chunkier and heavier looking one. Earlier we had wondered whether the old one was becoming too heavy and tiring for him at long ceremonies.
Usually I wince and groan at the standard of some of the singing in St. Peter's and wonder how the Holy Father puts up with it! Today it didn't seem to matter although to my ear there were some very 'sharp' notes from the boys at times. But even that could not spoil the peace and serenity of this ancient hour of the Church's prayer. They could have sung like a cat's chorus and I wouldn't have flinched.
One has become used to, 'spoiled' even by the beauty, depth and freshness of the Holy Father's preaching. He offers so many spiritual gifts and insights everytime. This evening I was yet again to drink in his every word. After the day I'd just spent the whole homily struck a particular resonance. Linguist that he is, he always looks deeply into the history of words and their nuances of meaning. It could be said that he mines them and digs out precious 'nuggets' to lay before us. But it isn't just the presentation of knowledge, some of which we may find familiar. No, it is the lessons he teaches us from that knowledge. Advent, he told us, can be interpreted as 'presence' and 'arrival' as well as 'coming' which is our usual translation. And then:
"Christians adopted the word 'advent' to express their relationship with Jesus Christ: Jesus is King, who has entered into this poor province called earth to visit everyone; he brings to participate in his advent those who believe in him, all those who believe in his presence in the liturgical assembly. With the word adventus an attempt was made essentially to say: God is here, he has not withdrawn from the world, he has not left us alone. Although we cannot see or touch him........he is here and comes to visit us in multiple ways.
"The meaning of the expression 'advent' includes therefore also that of 'visitatio', which means simply and properly 'visit'; in this case it is a visit of God: He enters my life and wants to address me.........................
"Advent, this intense liturgical time that we are beginning, invites us to pause in silence to grasp a presence. It is an invitation to understand that every event of the day is a gesture that God directs to us, sign of the care he has for each one of us. " (And here is one of the loveliest things in this homily.) "How many times God makes us perceive something of his love! To have, so to speak, an 'interior diary' of this love would be a beautiful and salutary task for our life! Advent invites and stimulates us to contemplate the Lord who is present................................."
The full homily can be found at Zenit under the title 'On God's Presence and Coming' (link at bottom of sidebar) All the way through I was thinking of the precious 'visitatio' that I was currently experiencing and of the very Presence of the Lord upstairs in the tabernacle. My 'interior diary' of the day was almost full. We had not yet had supper and still to come after it was work in the sacristy in preparation for tomorrow and then Night prayers, Rosary and Adoration before bed. I suppose what I have been doing in these recent posts is sharing with you to some extent, the contents of that 'interior diary'.
DV, I will continue to do so in the next post tomorrow.
I regret having had to break off this report at the end of the Holy Hour. As we know, it is almost seamless with the beginning of Benediction where the latter follows the former. Until Father lit the candelabra I hadn't had any real hint that we were to have Benediction and had certainly not thought about its hymns. So when he began the 'O Salutaris Hostia', itwas a blessing that I had the presence of mind to join in. His pitch was perfect for my alto range. I'd sung Benediction from choir chapels and lofts many times in my life but had never before done it 'a capella' and in unison with the priest alone. I felt it deeply as an honour and a privilege.
We sang gently and steadily to Our Lord, as if breathing the wordsand notes of love, obeisance and adoration into His Eucharistic 'ear'. It was very moving but I didn't break down and didn't ring the bells at the Benediction itself, wanting to pour my whole self into my reception of it. And even the little bell would have cut shockingly and unnecessarily into the holy silence. Tears did come as Our Lord was reposed in the tabernacle, but inside I still sang because He wouldremain there untill the conclusion of Mass the next day. After the 'Adoremus in Aeternam' Father intoned the 'Salve Regina' and we sang that to the old beloved tune.
The morning had witnessed the first Mass of Ages in the village, probably for at least 40 years. Now the afternoon rejoiced again in another 'first'.. not only Benediction, but the chapel had known the sound of live human voices raised in the sacred chant to Our Lord and His blessed Mother.
Later, as I left the chapel, crossed the gallery and went down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen, I reflected that Our Lord had already made that little journey once so that Colin could receive Him in Holy Communion. He would make the journey again tomorrow. The parts of the house where He had passed would and could never be the same again.
VESPERS WITH THE HOLY FATHER LIVE FROM ROME ON KTO
Father and I followed this seated side by side at the computer screen. We were both eager to see the Pope bearing his new ferrula and agreed that we liked it better than his old chunkier and heavier looking one. Earlier we had wondered whether the old one was becoming too heavy and tiring for him at long ceremonies.
Usually I wince and groan at the standard of some of the singing in St. Peter's and wonder how the Holy Father puts up with it! Today it didn't seem to matter although to my ear there were some very 'sharp' notes from the boys at times. But even that could not spoil the peace and serenity of this ancient hour of the Church's prayer. They could have sung like a cat's chorus and I wouldn't have flinched.
One has become used to, 'spoiled' even by the beauty, depth and freshness of the Holy Father's preaching. He offers so many spiritual gifts and insights everytime. This evening I was yet again to drink in his every word. After the day I'd just spent the whole homily struck a particular resonance. Linguist that he is, he always looks deeply into the history of words and their nuances of meaning. It could be said that he mines them and digs out precious 'nuggets' to lay before us. But it isn't just the presentation of knowledge, some of which we may find familiar. No, it is the lessons he teaches us from that knowledge. Advent, he told us, can be interpreted as 'presence' and 'arrival' as well as 'coming' which is our usual translation. And then:
"Christians adopted the word 'advent' to express their relationship with Jesus Christ: Jesus is King, who has entered into this poor province called earth to visit everyone; he brings to participate in his advent those who believe in him, all those who believe in his presence in the liturgical assembly. With the word adventus an attempt was made essentially to say: God is here, he has not withdrawn from the world, he has not left us alone. Although we cannot see or touch him........he is here and comes to visit us in multiple ways.
"The meaning of the expression 'advent' includes therefore also that of 'visitatio', which means simply and properly 'visit'; in this case it is a visit of God: He enters my life and wants to address me.........................
"Advent, this intense liturgical time that we are beginning, invites us to pause in silence to grasp a presence. It is an invitation to understand that every event of the day is a gesture that God directs to us, sign of the care he has for each one of us. " (And here is one of the loveliest things in this homily.) "How many times God makes us perceive something of his love! To have, so to speak, an 'interior diary' of this love would be a beautiful and salutary task for our life! Advent invites and stimulates us to contemplate the Lord who is present................................."
The full homily can be found at Zenit under the title 'On God's Presence and Coming' (link at bottom of sidebar) All the way through I was thinking of the precious 'visitatio' that I was currently experiencing and of the very Presence of the Lord upstairs in the tabernacle. My 'interior diary' of the day was almost full. We had not yet had supper and still to come after it was work in the sacristy in preparation for tomorrow and then Night prayers, Rosary and Adoration before bed. I suppose what I have been doing in these recent posts is sharing with you to some extent, the contents of that 'interior diary'.
DV, I will continue to do so in the next post tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
An Extraordinary (Form) weekend in Rural France: Part III Saturday Afternoon - Holy Hour
A note about photographs:
After Saturday lunch Father took his digital camera out for a ride round the locality. There hadn't been time for photographs of events in the chapel that morning, but I managed one or two with a conventional camera before the Mass. Unfortunately Father left the digital in the car when he came back for the Holy Hour and then because of everything else forgot to bring it in overnight. This affected the quality of the photos he took with it on Sunday morning. But I think they'll come out suffieciently well on the blog to give a fair impression of the chapel. These Sunday shots, about five of them, are of the altar ready for Mass from the body of the chapel; of the altar from the sacristy side; and of the vesting area with the vestments laid out ready for Mass. When Father had set up the altar with candelabra for the Holy Hour and Benediction, I took another couple with the conventioal aparatus.
I did not take photos at any point during the Sacred action. There were three major reasons for this. First the flash of the camera would have been a distraction, second I was too busy concentrating as indicated in the last post, and third I wanted to preserve Father's privacy although he had not asked that I should. This was a cause of great regret but as I'm convinced that this was only the first occasion of many, it was possible, in a tranquil spirit of acceptance, to forgo a detailed record of this first time. However, before I send the film for development, I intend to take a few more, including ones of each of the chasubles worn by Father. These, which belong to the house sacristy, I will put on a hanger and suspend from the beam at the chapel entrance so that their design can be clearly seen. We may have to wait at least a week for these conventional photos to be developed, but we are hoping that Father's digital ones can be posted by Mark before the coming weekend. I'm no Luddite but you all know how useless I am with these technicalities!
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After Saturday lunch Father took his digital camera out for a ride round the locality. There hadn't been time for photographs of events in the chapel that morning, but I managed one or two with a conventional camera before the Mass. Unfortunately Father left the digital in the car when he came back for the Holy Hour and then because of everything else forgot to bring it in overnight. This affected the quality of the photos he took with it on Sunday morning. But I think they'll come out suffieciently well on the blog to give a fair impression of the chapel. These Sunday shots, about five of them, are of the altar ready for Mass from the body of the chapel; of the altar from the sacristy side; and of the vesting area with the vestments laid out ready for Mass. When Father had set up the altar with candelabra for the Holy Hour and Benediction, I took another couple with the conventioal aparatus.
I did not take photos at any point during the Sacred action. There were three major reasons for this. First the flash of the camera would have been a distraction, second I was too busy concentrating as indicated in the last post, and third I wanted to preserve Father's privacy although he had not asked that I should. This was a cause of great regret but as I'm convinced that this was only the first occasion of many, it was possible, in a tranquil spirit of acceptance, to forgo a detailed record of this first time. However, before I send the film for development, I intend to take a few more, including ones of each of the chasubles worn by Father. These, which belong to the house sacristy, I will put on a hanger and suspend from the beam at the chapel entrance so that their design can be clearly seen. We may have to wait at least a week for these conventional photos to be developed, but we are hoping that Father's digital ones can be posted by Mark before the coming weekend. I'm no Luddite but you all know how useless I am with these technicalities!
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It had been quite cool in the chapel in the morning. By the time Mass began it had warmed up a bit but the temperature had become an irrelevance by then. At the Consecration I had been flooded with spiritual and physical warmth, not an unusual response, but this morning there had been another intense joy because I knew that after the Mass Our Lord would remain with us in His Tabernacle for the next twenty four hours. It is not possible to describe my gratitude for those precious hours that lay ahead, the total security, comfort, awe, dread even, that I experienced at the prospect. But perhaps above all it was love that predominated. Never in my life have I welcomed a guest in the way I did this One at this time and in this place. As we left Him and went downstarirs for lunch, I thought, 'The rest of these hours ahead are in His hands. Unless I am struck dead for my temerity, this afternoon I will spend an hour in the light of His Eucharistic Face, together with one of His beloved priests. He, (that is Father), will represent all priests, before Jesus, the High Priest, and it seemed to me, that because Our Lord had willed this to happen, that it was His benison on my offering of myself in spiritual motherhood............
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The Holy Hour was about to begin. Father was opening the tabernacle and placing a communion sized consecrated Host into our little monstrance.
'Let all mortal flesh keep silence.'
I'm not sure whether there is any silence so profound yet so charged, as the silence of a Holy Hour.
As at the Mass, one felt suspended, as if time had stood still, or no longer existed, and yet when the Hour ended, it seemed to have lasted only a matter of minutes. I don't wear a watch so can't be sure how the time was apportioned. And yet I must have spent the first 15 minutes in silent adoration, another 10 praying for priests in their different sorts and conditions, then another 20 at least were devoted to the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary for the intentions of our Holy Father. Then another brief period of Adoration. Lastly I reached for my Breviary deciding to catch up with the day's Office of Readings. When Father rose to approach the altar to begin Benediction I had reached the last sentence of the first reading from the Letter of Saint Jude. A year has passed since I last read it, and I had no expectation or memory that it would be so appropriate:
"To him who is able to keep you from falling and bring you faultless and joyful before his glorious presence - to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, might, and authority, from all ages past, and now, and forever! Amen."
Benediction came next, followed by the live broadcast from Rome of First Vespers of the first Sunday in Advent presided over by the Holy Father. These DV, will be the subject of my next post. If there are any errors in this post I'll correct them after supper, which I must now prepare!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
An Extraordinary (Form) Weekend in remote rural France: The Oasis lives up to its name. Part II The first Mass 28th November 2009
A note about the observance of Canon Law as regards the celebration of Mass in a private house chapel, and the reason why two Masses were offered on consecutive days, will be added at the end of this series of reports. However, you may rest assured that the canonical rules were obeyed, our visiting priest being himself a canon lawyer.
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Once the date for the weekend was fixed I was solemnly and acutely aware of the holy privilege we were to be granted, and also of the grave responsibility I had accepted. It had been decided that my husband and myself would, on this first occasion, be the only ones present at the Masses. This was sad on the one hand, but as the time drew nearer I became quite grateful for the privacy this promised. During the time of preparation I felt the double demand of Martha's anxieties and Mary's concerns and prayed constantly for help in achieving the right balance between them.
We did not know for certain until Father arrived which form of Mass he would prefer. He had already said that he favoured 'ad orientem' and I had told him that it was as well because the sanctuary is not big enough for 'versus populum'! I was very happy when he elected the Extraordinary Form for both Masses. And yet it increased my relief that there would be no-one else present. For those readers not old enough to remember, the rule for the Old Mass is that if there is no server and if there is no male in the congregation, then a woman can answer the Mass from the body of the Church. In my young days such a situation arose very rarely and the last time I did, it must have been nearly 50 years ago when I was a student!! Colin had not served an Old Mass since he was at school and has no experience at all of serving the Novus Ordo. Father had given me permission to answer both Masses. In recent weeks I had practised and studied, but 50 years is a long time. It was good in the end that there wouldn't be others present. I would be nervous anyway, and intensely disliked the idea of 'giving a performance' particularly one that might be littered with mistakes! Looking back, I think the Lord gave me that private and so quiet Mass as training for a future when I will now be better able to deal with the presence of others.
As it was, everything here was prepared according to Fr. O'Brien's 'In Sacristy and Sanctuary' published by Benziger Brothers in 1933, and which came into my hands several years ago. On the morning of Father's arrival I dressed the chalice, laid out the vestments , and remembered in affectionat and grateful prayer the nuns who taught me how to do these things oh, so long ago. And yet it was all so familiar, so comforting and so peaceful. The vestments were red because I had requested a Votive Mass of the Holy Spirit in thanksgiving.
On Saturday morning, just before Father and I were about to go up to the chapel for final preparations for Mass, Colin called me back and said that he'd discovered that he couldn't make the stairs. He has not been upstairs since before he broke his leg in the summer. It was a great disappointment but not really a surprise. As we climbed the stairs I told Father why Colin would have to listen to the Mass from the kitchen. I followed Father up the chapel flight, my heart pounding and racing. Finally when all was ready he left me kneeling at my priedieu in the chapel and it was possible to calm down. Father went back to the kitchen again before finally coming up to vest. I was too preoccupied to guess why.
During those last moments of waiting alone for the Mass to begin I thought of all my many spiritual friends, - priests, brothers, religious sisters and laity, of all my blogging friends and followers, and especially of all my 'spiritual' sisters, who with me have embraced the vocation of spiritual motherhood of priests. Mac, I knew was in Church at Blackfen, Pat also in St. John Fisher Birmingham. Both were praying with me and for me, as were all of you who knew what was about to happen. I thought of our dear Holy Father and of Fr. Mark Kirby. I had so much thanksgiving to offer, so many supplications to make, so many reasons to beg mercy, both for myself and others. I thought especially of Neville and of Philip Johnson, of my Anglo-Catholic friends in Devon, and of all the priests and the aspiriant seminarian who have been entrusted to my maternal intercession. If you have not been mentioned here by name, it is not because I did not think of you during those minutes. All of you, especially my 'hidden ones' were remembered.
As I heard Father leave the vesting area and begin to make his way across the gallery, I bound you all together with me in one huge act of love and contrition, offering us all to Our Lord, begging His help that I may conduct my part of the coming Mass with as much dignity, reverence and love for Him as I am capable of demonstrating outwardly, and as few mistakes as my poor concentration would inevitably occasion.
Father rang the little entrance bell which hangs from one of the beams. As he entered the chapel, I rose shakily to my feet and the Holy Mass of Ages began in this humble, and from then on, especially blessed little place.
*************************************************************************************
Once the date for the weekend was fixed I was solemnly and acutely aware of the holy privilege we were to be granted, and also of the grave responsibility I had accepted. It had been decided that my husband and myself would, on this first occasion, be the only ones present at the Masses. This was sad on the one hand, but as the time drew nearer I became quite grateful for the privacy this promised. During the time of preparation I felt the double demand of Martha's anxieties and Mary's concerns and prayed constantly for help in achieving the right balance between them.
We did not know for certain until Father arrived which form of Mass he would prefer. He had already said that he favoured 'ad orientem' and I had told him that it was as well because the sanctuary is not big enough for 'versus populum'! I was very happy when he elected the Extraordinary Form for both Masses. And yet it increased my relief that there would be no-one else present. For those readers not old enough to remember, the rule for the Old Mass is that if there is no server and if there is no male in the congregation, then a woman can answer the Mass from the body of the Church. In my young days such a situation arose very rarely and the last time I did, it must have been nearly 50 years ago when I was a student!! Colin had not served an Old Mass since he was at school and has no experience at all of serving the Novus Ordo. Father had given me permission to answer both Masses. In recent weeks I had practised and studied, but 50 years is a long time. It was good in the end that there wouldn't be others present. I would be nervous anyway, and intensely disliked the idea of 'giving a performance' particularly one that might be littered with mistakes! Looking back, I think the Lord gave me that private and so quiet Mass as training for a future when I will now be better able to deal with the presence of others.
As it was, everything here was prepared according to Fr. O'Brien's 'In Sacristy and Sanctuary' published by Benziger Brothers in 1933, and which came into my hands several years ago. On the morning of Father's arrival I dressed the chalice, laid out the vestments , and remembered in affectionat and grateful prayer the nuns who taught me how to do these things oh, so long ago. And yet it was all so familiar, so comforting and so peaceful. The vestments were red because I had requested a Votive Mass of the Holy Spirit in thanksgiving.
On Saturday morning, just before Father and I were about to go up to the chapel for final preparations for Mass, Colin called me back and said that he'd discovered that he couldn't make the stairs. He has not been upstairs since before he broke his leg in the summer. It was a great disappointment but not really a surprise. As we climbed the stairs I told Father why Colin would have to listen to the Mass from the kitchen. I followed Father up the chapel flight, my heart pounding and racing. Finally when all was ready he left me kneeling at my priedieu in the chapel and it was possible to calm down. Father went back to the kitchen again before finally coming up to vest. I was too preoccupied to guess why.
During those last moments of waiting alone for the Mass to begin I thought of all my many spiritual friends, - priests, brothers, religious sisters and laity, of all my blogging friends and followers, and especially of all my 'spiritual' sisters, who with me have embraced the vocation of spiritual motherhood of priests. Mac, I knew was in Church at Blackfen, Pat also in St. John Fisher Birmingham. Both were praying with me and for me, as were all of you who knew what was about to happen. I thought of our dear Holy Father and of Fr. Mark Kirby. I had so much thanksgiving to offer, so many supplications to make, so many reasons to beg mercy, both for myself and others. I thought especially of Neville and of Philip Johnson, of my Anglo-Catholic friends in Devon, and of all the priests and the aspiriant seminarian who have been entrusted to my maternal intercession. If you have not been mentioned here by name, it is not because I did not think of you during those minutes. All of you, especially my 'hidden ones' were remembered.
As I heard Father leave the vesting area and begin to make his way across the gallery, I bound you all together with me in one huge act of love and contrition, offering us all to Our Lord, begging His help that I may conduct my part of the coming Mass with as much dignity, reverence and love for Him as I am capable of demonstrating outwardly, and as few mistakes as my poor concentration would inevitably occasion.
Father rang the little entrance bell which hangs from one of the beams. As he entered the chapel, I rose shakily to my feet and the Holy Mass of Ages began in this humble, and from then on, especially blessed little place.
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It's only possible to give an impression of the Mass itself. I am still internalising it myself. If it seems right, I will expand on it later.
I have never concentrated so hard in my entire life. But it was the concentration of absorption and not of forced effort. It was not just about what I had to do, but more about what was happening on the altar. It was truly as being in another dimension. There was nothing on earth outside and beyond that small white corporal upon which Our Lord would will to be. The holiness of the whispered canon held me transfixed. Just before the Consecration I had the time to acknowledge that I had done nothing, could never do anything to justify this Gift, this Grace, blessing and privilege. Quite the reverse. I had done everything in my life that would militate against it. And then He was there. The only possible response was Adoration and sorrow for sin.
I rang the bells gently. Clanging them loudly would have been inappropriate and unnecessary in that small place.
In one way the Mass lasted for an unquantifiable length of time, in another, to pass very quickly. Suddenly, it seemed, it was time for my own Communion. I couldn't move at first. Father waited patiently holding up the Sacred Host before me. At last I found my feet and went forward to the rail and kneeling, took up the communion plate and received my beloved Lord.
The Mass proceeded to its conclusion and the Last Gospel - always one of my favourite things about the Old Mass, the loss of which I mourn greatly in the Novus Ordo.
At last Father left the sanctuary and went to unvest. When he had done so he returned to the chapel wearing a stole. He asked for a lighted candle and said he would now prepare the ciborium to take Holy Communion to Colin in the kitchen. - So that was why he had gone downstairs again before Mass began - to find out whether Colin wished to receive. I was so stunned by the experience of the Mass and by the kindness of Father's act, that I didn't realise until afterwards that I should probably have preceded him with the candle. As it was I remained at my priedieu in the most profound thanksgiving I have ever offered since my First Communion.
Next post DV: report on the Holy Hour and Benediction of Saturday afternoon.
Monday, November 30, 2009
An Extraordinary (Form) Weekend in Remote Rural France: The Oasis Lives up to its Name Part I
Last Friday evening an English priest came to spend the weekend with us. His visit had been planned for a long time and as my regular readers know, I have been busy getting ready for something very special over a considerable period and that the preparations have recently curtailed my blogging activities more than somewhat.
This is an introductory post to a series of reports on the events that took place during Father's stay. First however, so that you will realise just how extraordinary and historic a weekend it was, I need to give you a little description of our village, our house within it, and of our private chapel within that.
Before embarking on this, I must tell you that several photos were taken on Saturday and Sunday and that these will be published on this blog during the course of the coming week.
The Village:
When we first bought our house here in 1989 one of its major attractions was that the village Church is almost directly opposite. In those days there was Mass each Sunday and the bell rang the Angelus three times everyday. We had a Parish Priest then, but he had to serve nine parishes in the Canton. Not long after our present bishop arrived, around 1993, he issued a communique warning all the outlying villages that if they could not produce a regular Mass attendance of 13 souls, their weekly Sunday Mass would be discontinued. This village like 6 others could not fulfil these terms and so the Mass was lost to us. From then on there was only one Sunday Mass in the entire canton. This Mass alternated between the two largest parishes and still does. Both are difficult for us to get to as we gave up our car long ago. Financial constraints meant that moving house was out of the question. In any case there was the garden, which was the inspiration for my three published books that were in the process of being written, but that is another story. The Parish Church across the road is now used only for the occasional weddings and funerals, more funerals than weddings I'm afraid, and in 20 years I've never heard of a baptism there. Most of the time it is kept locked and the Blessed Sacrament is not reserved there.The Parish Priest who was based in the town 2kms away eventually retired and the Presbytery was sold to a lay buyer a couple of years ago. Then, early this decade the Angelus from our parish church ceased to ring. Fortunately I recorded it one summer afternoon when the windows were all open and its sonorous tones permeated the rooms and the woodwork of the house and its beams. But once the Angelus bell was silenced, the feeling of the village being cut off from the Church was/is almost total and this for me marked the end of an era in the village.. I would say that the last Mass celebrated in the village would have been at least 12 years ago, and as for the Old Latin Mass probably nearly 40 years, not that I ever heard it here.
Our house and how the chapel came to be:
The house is just over 300 years old and a lot of work had to be done before it was habitable. It is on four levels - cellar, ground floor, first floor which houses two bedrooms, bathrooms and a large library - and above the first floor and surrounding it on two sides is an L shaped mezzanine gallery. (This mezzanine overlooks the library as you will eventually see in the photos.) There are lots of exposed beams, in fact wood predominates. When in the early 90s I first saw that mezzanine space, cleared of rubble and ancient shelving, I knew that its furthest section which had a raised dais at one end, must be a chapel. Even then when it was completely empty, there was a recusant penal-times feel about it. Behind where the altar would eventually be, there is what appears to be a cupboard door. This leads into the roof space. Ever since that day I've always mentally and semi-seriously referred to this as 'the priest hole'. And on that day these reactions came naturally to an English Catholic who knows her history and who was by then accustomed, to singing Byrd's Masses, particularly for four voices (the Agnus Dei always wrings my Catholic soul), and who knew the places, numbers and dangerous circumstances in which he had composed them. When you see the photos I think you'll understand my feelings then and now. On that day I vowed to do everything possible to make that chapel, to eventually have Holy Mass offered there and if ever possible to have the Byrd for Four sung by a small schola with no more than two voices on each line. (Pray God if that ever happens I'll still be able to manage my accustomed alto line!) The vow I made to Our Lord that day is nearly 20 years old now but I've been working towards its fulfilment since it was first made. By the time it was only two or three years old, the chapel was fit to be blessed and dedicated to the worship of God and this blessing was carried out by a priest of the Salford Diocese who was visiting us in 1994.
Until the promulgation of the 'Summorum Pontificum' I had little real hope or expectation that any of my prayers for the chapel could possibly be answered, but thanks to our beloved Pope Benedict everything became very different following his initiative. Not only that, but my other dream of opening the parish Church for Mass again and of hearing the beloved Angelus ring out once more across the fields and woods, is by no means as remote as it was two years ago.
So with this background perhaps readers will imagine the joy and the nervous excitement that almost overwhelmed me during the weekend just past.
Tomorrow, I will take you through the events of Saturday just gone.
This is an introductory post to a series of reports on the events that took place during Father's stay. First however, so that you will realise just how extraordinary and historic a weekend it was, I need to give you a little description of our village, our house within it, and of our private chapel within that.
Before embarking on this, I must tell you that several photos were taken on Saturday and Sunday and that these will be published on this blog during the course of the coming week.
The Village:
When we first bought our house here in 1989 one of its major attractions was that the village Church is almost directly opposite. In those days there was Mass each Sunday and the bell rang the Angelus three times everyday. We had a Parish Priest then, but he had to serve nine parishes in the Canton. Not long after our present bishop arrived, around 1993, he issued a communique warning all the outlying villages that if they could not produce a regular Mass attendance of 13 souls, their weekly Sunday Mass would be discontinued. This village like 6 others could not fulfil these terms and so the Mass was lost to us. From then on there was only one Sunday Mass in the entire canton. This Mass alternated between the two largest parishes and still does. Both are difficult for us to get to as we gave up our car long ago. Financial constraints meant that moving house was out of the question. In any case there was the garden, which was the inspiration for my three published books that were in the process of being written, but that is another story. The Parish Church across the road is now used only for the occasional weddings and funerals, more funerals than weddings I'm afraid, and in 20 years I've never heard of a baptism there. Most of the time it is kept locked and the Blessed Sacrament is not reserved there.The Parish Priest who was based in the town 2kms away eventually retired and the Presbytery was sold to a lay buyer a couple of years ago. Then, early this decade the Angelus from our parish church ceased to ring. Fortunately I recorded it one summer afternoon when the windows were all open and its sonorous tones permeated the rooms and the woodwork of the house and its beams. But once the Angelus bell was silenced, the feeling of the village being cut off from the Church was/is almost total and this for me marked the end of an era in the village.. I would say that the last Mass celebrated in the village would have been at least 12 years ago, and as for the Old Latin Mass probably nearly 40 years, not that I ever heard it here.
Our house and how the chapel came to be:
The house is just over 300 years old and a lot of work had to be done before it was habitable. It is on four levels - cellar, ground floor, first floor which houses two bedrooms, bathrooms and a large library - and above the first floor and surrounding it on two sides is an L shaped mezzanine gallery. (This mezzanine overlooks the library as you will eventually see in the photos.) There are lots of exposed beams, in fact wood predominates. When in the early 90s I first saw that mezzanine space, cleared of rubble and ancient shelving, I knew that its furthest section which had a raised dais at one end, must be a chapel. Even then when it was completely empty, there was a recusant penal-times feel about it. Behind where the altar would eventually be, there is what appears to be a cupboard door. This leads into the roof space. Ever since that day I've always mentally and semi-seriously referred to this as 'the priest hole'. And on that day these reactions came naturally to an English Catholic who knows her history and who was by then accustomed, to singing Byrd's Masses, particularly for four voices (the Agnus Dei always wrings my Catholic soul), and who knew the places, numbers and dangerous circumstances in which he had composed them. When you see the photos I think you'll understand my feelings then and now. On that day I vowed to do everything possible to make that chapel, to eventually have Holy Mass offered there and if ever possible to have the Byrd for Four sung by a small schola with no more than two voices on each line. (Pray God if that ever happens I'll still be able to manage my accustomed alto line!) The vow I made to Our Lord that day is nearly 20 years old now but I've been working towards its fulfilment since it was first made. By the time it was only two or three years old, the chapel was fit to be blessed and dedicated to the worship of God and this blessing was carried out by a priest of the Salford Diocese who was visiting us in 1994.
Until the promulgation of the 'Summorum Pontificum' I had little real hope or expectation that any of my prayers for the chapel could possibly be answered, but thanks to our beloved Pope Benedict everything became very different following his initiative. Not only that, but my other dream of opening the parish Church for Mass again and of hearing the beloved Angelus ring out once more across the fields and woods, is by no means as remote as it was two years ago.
So with this background perhaps readers will imagine the joy and the nervous excitement that almost overwhelmed me during the weekend just past.
Tomorrow, I will take you through the events of Saturday just gone.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Pope to Archbishop of Canterbury at their recent meeting in the Vatican:
Snippet at the end of their 20 minute conversation:
(Of course, it didn't happen. Just another of my flights of fancy.)
Pope: (having listened with the utmost patience and courtesy) Today, I only have time to correct you on one thing my dear friend.
Cantuar: Pray do tell.
Pope: In the Vatican these days, the only things we attempt to poach are 'Eggs Benedict'.
Cantuar: Is that supposed to be some sort of yolk? Ha! Ha!
Pope: Not at all. It's actually quite a hard-boiled statement of fact.
Cantuar: But when the raising agent is trying to egg the pudding, what can we do....?
Pope: As I have indicated there isn't time to enter into matters of such theological moment. I am happy to tread on the eggshells the Lord has sent me. I pray for you as you tread on the ones you have chosen.
Cantuar: (Sadly missing the point) Well I think it's time I scrambled.
Pope: Yes, un oeuf is un oeuf. (Aside to Georg) Please see him out. And be kind and gentle, I don't think he realises he has egg all over his beard.
(Of course, it didn't happen. Just another of my flights of fancy.)
Pope: (having listened with the utmost patience and courtesy) Today, I only have time to correct you on one thing my dear friend.
Cantuar: Pray do tell.
Pope: In the Vatican these days, the only things we attempt to poach are 'Eggs Benedict'.
Cantuar: Is that supposed to be some sort of yolk? Ha! Ha!
Pope: Not at all. It's actually quite a hard-boiled statement of fact.
Cantuar: But when the raising agent is trying to egg the pudding, what can we do....?
Pope: As I have indicated there isn't time to enter into matters of such theological moment. I am happy to tread on the eggshells the Lord has sent me. I pray for you as you tread on the ones you have chosen.
Cantuar: (Sadly missing the point) Well I think it's time I scrambled.
Pope: Yes, un oeuf is un oeuf. (Aside to Georg) Please see him out. And be kind and gentle, I don't think he realises he has egg all over his beard.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
VIPs visit: Ten days to go!
I've already posted about this impending visit and matters have now reached the stage where blogging HAS to take a back seat. Therefore between now and the end of the month posts here will be brief and probably infrequent. After that I hope to be back to 'normal'. I promise a full report on 'the visit' (DV) during the first week in Advent. When you read that report you will understand my discretion up until its publication.
I have not forgotten the Una Voce Report, and Patricius, nor have I shelved that little 'roman business'! However, in the coming days, the demands of the ironing board and the need for rather a lot of metal to be polished, must take precedence over etymology, semantics and socio-linguistics.
God bless all here. Please pray for me.
I have not forgotten the Una Voce Report, and Patricius, nor have I shelved that little 'roman business'! However, in the coming days, the demands of the ironing board and the need for rather a lot of metal to be polished, must take precedence over etymology, semantics and socio-linguistics.
God bless all here. Please pray for me.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
News from the Edinburgh Schola
Members of the Schola also sang at recent Una Voce Scotland Masses at Seton Collegiate Church, the ruins of Cambuskenneth Abbey, and also at various Requiem Masses this month. Yesterday also saw the first Mass at Torphichen Preceptory, the ancient seat of the Order of St John of Jerusalem (Knights of Malta), since the Reformation - again organised by Una Voce Scotland.
Upcoming "Dates for your Diary" include:
- Monday, 16 November, Vespers for St Margaret;
- Monday 30 November, Vespers for St Andrew; and
- Thursday 17 December, the first of the Great Antiphons: "O Sapientia" (Vespers).
The Schola hopes to continue to swell its numbers, and all interested are invited to browse the Schola "blog" at edinburghschola.blogspot.com or email edinburghschola at gmail.com .
Friday, November 13, 2009
For 'Patricius': Apologies.
Running to stand still here. Will try to catch up over the weekend. Have a good one!
J
J
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Una Voce International Federation : 2009 Report on the implementation of "Summorum Pontificum" [updated]
Rorate Caeli 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 the 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. This I suspected may have been due to personages within the Vatican itself, and certainly not to Una Voce whose delegation I understood was in Rome for a fortnight. At the time, I asked Zenit news agency if they had any reports on the 2008 presentation, and if memory serves correctly, offered my own translation which appeared on this blog in the days immediately following, but they never replied.
The way the first Una Voce report was handled, not by Una Voce, but possibly by the Vatican, 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 Gänswein 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 suggests to 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. And it is possible that it is the pro-Benedict Vatican personages who feel the most increase in such confidence.
Nevertheless, an upsetting statement in the Una Voce 2009 report (supported by 'naming of names and places' detail which the Holy Father will see in the report's unpublished Part III) appears at the beginning of its second paragraph:
Profound thanks are due to Una Voce and particularly to Leo Darroch, for all their hard work and devoted commitment. The International Una Voce Federation is the largest international voice of traditional lay faithful in the world. All who wish to see the proper implementation of Pope Benedict's Motu Proprio should support Una Voce and pray for its officers and their work.
Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in the day of battle!
Lord, uphold and strengthen Your chief shepherd, Benedict and have mercy on us all.
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. This I suspected may have been due to personages within the Vatican itself, and certainly not to Una Voce whose delegation I understood was in Rome for a fortnight. At the time, I asked Zenit news agency if they had any reports on the 2008 presentation, and if memory serves correctly, offered my own translation which appeared on this blog in the days immediately following, but they never replied.
The way the first Una Voce report was handled, not by Una Voce, but possibly by the Vatican, 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 Gänswein 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 suggests to 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. And it is possible that it is the pro-Benedict Vatican personages who feel the most increase in such confidence.
Nevertheless, an upsetting statement in the Una Voce 2009 report (supported by 'naming of names and places' 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."It is quite right that this Part III remains unpublished. We, as ordinary faithful, do not want, nor do we need, to know its contents. But we, and particularly those of us who suffer in places where the bishop is opposed to 'Summorum Pontificum', yearn for the assurance that the Holy Father is able to know the truth of the situation. Seeing the report given into his hands is the nearest thing we can get to such an assurance, and it inspired a vastly more positive hope that he now has that ability, than it was possible to feel at this time last year.
Profound thanks are due to Una Voce and particularly to Leo Darroch, for all their hard work and devoted commitment. The International Una Voce Federation is the largest international voice of traditional lay faithful in the world. All who wish to see the proper implementation of Pope Benedict's Motu Proprio should support Una Voce and pray for its officers and their work.
Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in the day of battle!
Lord, uphold and strengthen Your chief shepherd, Benedict and have mercy on us all.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The English and Welsh Bishops show their colours in the UK Guardian
I was going to post fully tonight on the Una Voce Report but I came back at 7pm from shopping to find Laurence England's post about the Bishops' job advert in the Guardian, supposedly a quality newspaper, but certainly one of the most anti-catholic organs in the British 'print'. Damian Thompson has now picked it up on Holy Smoke. But to my mind, Laurence's post shows more genuine fire in the Catholic belly. See his blog 'That the bones you have crushed may thrill'.
I was appalled by the bishops' latest move. Laurence says most of the things I would say about this, but there is something else. The advert was published two days before the Aposolic Constitution on provision for the Anglicans. Was that a coicidence? I think perhaps not. In spite of the present chairmanship of Archbishop Nichols, thought to be more pro-Benedict than the body over which he presides, and in spite of some urbane remarks from the Cardinal emeritus Murphy-O'Connor, one cannot but imagine that perhaps this was part of a deliberate ploy to scare off the Traditional Anglicans. (I mean, they wouldn't want to join us would they, when this is how we run things?) The last thing wanted by the liberal leadership of the Catholic Church in England and Wales (note they seem to have dropped the word 'Roman'), is an influx of traditional Catholics, loyal to the Pope, and it hurts me to have to say it, but the majority in this Conference can not be counted loyal to him. One only has to look at the way they ignored and/or misrepresented the 'Summorum Pontificum'. (We come back to that chilling remark from the Una Voce report mentioned at the end of my last post on the matter.)
The terrible thing for traditional priests and laity, is that in many places all over the world it is no longer possible to do that most Catholic of things, namely to obey your bishop and the Pope at the same time. But one has to ask, who is preventing that most Catholic of responses? Certainly not the Pope. This represents a tension that rips me apart as day succeeds day. Nevertheless, it is possible, because the Internet ensures that Pope Benedict's every word is almost immediately available, to cling to our chief shepherd, to love him, to pray for him, to drink in his wisdom, and be inspired to love Jesus Christ as he does, and as the Lord whom he most humbly represents on earth. As long as he breathes, we will listen to him and benefit from his words and actions. At the same time we will pray for our bishops, particularly those who apparently have no ears to hear.
I was appalled by the bishops' latest move. Laurence says most of the things I would say about this, but there is something else. The advert was published two days before the Aposolic Constitution on provision for the Anglicans. Was that a coicidence? I think perhaps not. In spite of the present chairmanship of Archbishop Nichols, thought to be more pro-Benedict than the body over which he presides, and in spite of some urbane remarks from the Cardinal emeritus Murphy-O'Connor, one cannot but imagine that perhaps this was part of a deliberate ploy to scare off the Traditional Anglicans. (I mean, they wouldn't want to join us would they, when this is how we run things?) The last thing wanted by the liberal leadership of the Catholic Church in England and Wales (note they seem to have dropped the word 'Roman'), is an influx of traditional Catholics, loyal to the Pope, and it hurts me to have to say it, but the majority in this Conference can not be counted loyal to him. One only has to look at the way they ignored and/or misrepresented the 'Summorum Pontificum'. (We come back to that chilling remark from the Una Voce report mentioned at the end of my last post on the matter.)
The terrible thing for traditional priests and laity, is that in many places all over the world it is no longer possible to do that most Catholic of things, namely to obey your bishop and the Pope at the same time. But one has to ask, who is preventing that most Catholic of responses? Certainly not the Pope. This represents a tension that rips me apart as day succeeds day. Nevertheless, it is possible, because the Internet ensures that Pope Benedict's every word is almost immediately available, to cling to our chief shepherd, to love him, to pray for him, to drink in his wisdom, and be inspired to love Jesus Christ as he does, and as the Lord whom he most humbly represents on earth. As long as he breathes, we will listen to him and benefit from his words and actions. At the same time we will pray for our bishops, particularly those who apparently have no ears to hear.
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.
Re: Archbishop-elect of Birmingham: Update on the Bishops Conference site
The link now takes you to the Bishops Conference home page. Enter Bishop Bernard Longley in the search field and when his page comes up, click "Announcements page'.
Archbishop-elect Bernard Longley: video of today's interview
You can find the Bishops Conference press release announcing the imminent move of Bishop Bernard Longley here. There is also a link to the transcript of the video as well as to the video itself. Thanks to the Bishops for making these things available so quickly. And thanks to the Holy Father for making a swift and welcome appointment.
Monday, September 28, 2009
"You make me feel so young!": Pope Benedict to Youth
Well, the song title is not exactly what he said to Czech Youth and their friends gathered from Slovakia, Poland and Germany at the end of this morning's Mass. After a young man and woman had presented him with the results of their collection to aid African Youth and promised to be at the next WYD in Madrid, he addressed all the young people. He began his remarks with great good humour by saying that their "enthusiasm and generosity makes even the Pope feel young". He spole in Italian so most of the crowd had to wait for the Czech translation to be read out before they understood his little joke. Then they applauded long and loud, and he laughed. It was a delightful moment.
There was another wonderful touch on the part of the University authorities at the end of last evening's meeting with the Academic community. As the Holy Father greeted individuals, a small schola sang the Proper Plainchant Antiphon and Introit from the Mass of the First Sunday in Advent...."Ad te levavi animam meam..................."
There was another wonderful touch on the part of the University authorities at the end of last evening's meeting with the Academic community. As the Holy Father greeted individuals, a small schola sang the Proper Plainchant Antiphon and Introit from the Mass of the First Sunday in Advent...."Ad te levavi animam meam..................."
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