Edwin John Charles Davis, priest. R I P

Oxford again today, but a very different occasion from last week. At St John’s New Hinksey, where he had been parish priest for ten years from 1981, we gathered to celebrate the solemn funeral Mass for Fr John Davis. Throughout my time at St Stephen’s House, John had taught Old Testament – and a great deal more. In particular, the sheer joy of being a priest, and the vocation to hospitality. The congregation in St John’s was a witness to his very varied ministry. So too were those in the Sanctuary. The first lesson was read by a French Monk, Dom Christopher Lesofski OSB, who had lodged with John while studying in Oxford. For the Ecclesiastes lesson, the reader was the Rev'd Andrew Brown, Minister of the Unitarian Chapel in Cambridge, who had studied the Bible under John at Harris Manchester College. The choir, which sang Fauré’s requiem most movingly, came from All Saints Highfield, where John had ministered during his retirement in Headington. The preacher was another old friend and former student of St Stephen’s House, Fr Charles Card-Reynolds FSJ, parish priest of St Bartholomew Stamford Hill.

As John had requested, Fr Charles’ sermon was not a eulogy, but a proclamation of the Gospel, calling us to pray for the departed. Fr Charles did, though, give us the wonderful picture of Fr John’s meeting with our Heavenly Father; who would be first to say to the other, “My dear”? For me, it recalled that most lovely of poems by an Anglican Divine, George Herbert's “Love bade me welcome”…

‘And know you not’, says Love, ‘Who bore the blame?’
‘My dear, then I will serve.’
‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’
So I did sit and eat.

And so did we; we shared the Eucharist in thanksgiving and prayer for John, and we met and talked over a great buffet. How he would have enjoyed it all! And who is to say he did not, and does not, with Angels, and Archangels, and all the Company of Heaven. Requiescat.

This picture of John came to me from Chris Gillibrand; John was reading from the Song of Songs (what else!) at Chris' wedding.

Oxford & Beyond

A good and very varied weekend, with rather too much driving (almost like being a flying bishop once more). It began with a ninety mile sprint to Oxford. The extra ten miles were after being warned on the Traffic channel of a collision on the road north of Newbury.

The reason for the trip to Oxford was a very happy event; the celebration of the first 125 years of Pusey House.

Pusey Librarians have always been a convivial band here are two who happily live up to this reputation: left, Fr William Davage, Priest Librarian and Custodian of the Library, and right, Fr Barry Orford, Priest Librarian and Archivist.

On Friday evening there was a dinner for friends and supporters of Pusey House. The Principal himself, Fr Jonathan Baker, presided with customary wit and elegance throughout what must have been an exhausting weekend. Here he is seen just half-way through the celebrations, during the reception after the Festival Mass on Saturday, with High Mass for All Saints and a Solemn Requiem for All Souls still to come.

Present at the dinner and at the Festival Mass on Saturday were many old friends. There were trad bishops: +Keith Richborough (rt.) was on good form, as was his brother of Ebbsfleet , seen here (as the Tatler might have said) in animated conversation with the Preacher at the Anniversary Mass, Fr Robin Ward, Principal of St Stephen's House.

Other former Seminarians of St Stephen's House (besides, that is, Fr Davage, Fr Orford, the Bishop of Ebbsfleet, the Preacher and the Principal of Pusey House himself) included (right) the Blogger Blogged, Fr Hunwicke who, warned of my approach, almost managed to hide his glass.

At the glorious Festival Mass, the preacher excelled himself. In the peroration of his sermon, Fr Robin Ward looked forward to a time when Pusey House might be operating in a rather wider field than the present narrow confines of the Church of England. We all left with a sense that the history of the Puseum had barely begun - there are great things still to come.

Jane came up on the train (delayed, of course) and after the Mass and more Pusey hospitality we took off for East Anglia.

There yet another SSH Alumnus, Fr Jeremy Dowding, Diane his wife and son Tom welcomed us to Thorpe-le-Soken.... about as far as you can get from Fr Jeremy's homeland of Wales without falling off the edge of the map. We concelebrated and I preached for All Saints, we enjoyed a great luncheon, and the faithful Barnesmobile brought us back to Lymington without incident, completing a four hundred mile round trip. Just one more weekend which I shall think about when people say "Don't you find retirement terribly boring?". Boring it is not. Tiring, maybe, but boring, never.

Old Familiar Places

You can't escape the Minster. Down alleyways, over roofs, through cafe windows, it is always there. For nine years it was very familiar to me when I was Vicar of Hessle, especially as the place where successive curates were ordained. So during a three-day breather, I went there to Mass on the morning of SS Simon & Jude, in the lovely Zouche Chapel. Canon Glyn Webster, whom I'd known as a young priest in those distant days, celebrated. An even older friend, Fr Philip Cousins, was in the congregation. We had been contemporaries at Cuddesdon (where there was once a Theological College, until it was taken over by Ripon Hall) and he has retired to York.

After Mass, Philip and I spoke of the Pope's initiative in proposing Ordinariates for former Anglicans. The very idea seemed strange to Philip; and even stranger that I should be so enthusiastic about it. Yet once we would both have been regular in our prayer for Christian Unity, and looked forward to a time when the Church of England would no longer be a separated part of Catholic Christendom.

To me, the Holy Father's initiative is an answer to prayer. At first there may be relatively few of us. Once people come to understand that this is no strange beast but quite genuinely a manifestation of the Church in England, many more will be attracted to it. Little by little the shrinking of the Established Church will make it impossible for anyone to pretend that it alone is 'The Church Of England'. As dioceses are united and extinguished, and buildings closed, it will look more and more like the Church in Ireland. Once Killalough, Kilfenora, Clonfert and Kilmacduagh were all separate dioceses - then in 1976 even those four together could no longer pretend to be a diocese and they were united with Limerick, Ardfert, Aghadoe and Emly. When something like that has happened in England, we might eventually realise that we all need one another.

And still the Minster will be there, perhaps serving all Christians in York, not just those who chose to obey Henry VIII. Young's Hotel, where Jane and I spent part of our Honeymoon, is now called the Guy Fawkes. He had been born in that building. Today his remembrance has all but disappeared, overtaken by an Americanised "Hallowe'en".

The traditions and histories of separated Christian groups need somehow to come together, so that all of us can hallow the memories of the Saints, reclaim for our nation Catholic and Protestant martyrs alike, together admit that it is our own sinfulness which separates us. In 1843 Newman's final sermon at Littlemore was called "The Parting of Friends". As his canonisation approaches, we can perhaps thank his prayers for the Reuniting of Friends. There could be no greater miracle than this, to prove his sanctity.

Patrimony and Matrimony

One of the details in the forthcoming Apostolic Constitution which most exercises me is the question of clerical celibacy. I understand that the intention of the Holy Father is to bring into the Catholic Church what is authentic in our Anglican Patrimony. Now the distinctiveness of the Church of England (and so of the Anglican Communion) was defined at the Reformation. At that time the matters of distinctiveness related to:-

[1] the Communion of the people - that it should be frequent, and in both kinds;

[2] Prayer - that common prayer should be in a language 'understanded of the people', and

[3] Clerical Marriage - that the clergy should be free to marry, if called by God to that Holy Estate.

We have given up on the part of the first thanks to the swine flu 'pandemic' (or more properly panic), Rome has conceded the second, but for me the third is the most important of all. The wives and families of priests and bishops have been one of the glories of our Communion; and by permitting clerical marriage we have increased the value of clerical celibacy when it has been freely chosen. It has also drawn us closer to Orthodoxy.

Of course it might make difficulties for the Roman church if there were another authentic part of the Church in England which does not share its rules on celibacy. But if we are genuinely to bring our (few) gifts into the greater church, then the married priesthood is crucial.

A married episcopate can wait - though I have heard some Orthodox bishops say that they wish they had the possibility of consecrating married men. On this, though, the concession about Ordinaries not necessarily being bishops is quite enough for the moment.

And Pigs Might...

We began with escape clauses; perhaps the C of E will still do the decent thing? Perhaps the Holy Father’s offer will get Synod trumping it by giving us a Free Province? Even as this was being said, I watched a squadron of blue pigs performing aerobatics round the ceiling of the Assembly Hall. We soon came down to reality; the reality of a Church of England hell-bent on ridding itself of dissenters like us. They have offered us nothing, nor will they.
Blogmaster General and Regional Dean for Scotland, Fr Len Black SSC, preparing to put us on air as the Assembly gathers in Westminster: on the wall behind him the words (which became almost the motto of the Assembly) "He hath put a New Song into my Mouth".

Then, on Saturday afternoon, my spirits were restored. Four young men addressed us, two already ordained, two preparing for ordination. One of the ordinands is soon to be married; the other had hoped that one day he might be married; but it was not a near prospect, and that might mean he would have to remain single in the Ordinariate. All of them are ready and eager for us to press ahead, as a body, and seek corporate re-union with the Holy See, whatever the personal cost to them or their families – and the cost will necessarily be greater than to any of us older clergy and lay people..

On Sunday I was with a faithful congregation in Porstmouth, facing the prospect next month of another interregnum because of the illness of their priest. They were concerned, of course, about the future; but they were also thrilled at the prospect of becoming what they had always wanted to be, Anglicans in full communion with the Holy See.

I also heard this weekend of the death of two friends; Fr John Heidt, whose son Michael had been at St Stephen’s House when I was Principal there; and Fr John Davis, who had taught Old Testament (and a great deal more, such as the delights of Lamb in Gin) to a succession of ordinands. It is as though their lives are laid on the altar as an offering for the Unity of the Church. May they rest in peace.

Of course it is a confusing time, full of ‘what if’s’ and ‘shall we be able?’. But it is a also for me a time of huge hope, for a reunion to which I so long looked forward but never thought I would live to see. Thanks be to God!

Praying for Unity Today

A sermon for the 30th Sunday yr B, preached at the Church of the Ascension, North End, Portsmouth

[L] The Sanctuary at The Ascension, North End, Portsmouth

[R] Image of Our Lady & theHoly Child, the Church

of the Ascension, N End

Many of them scolded him and told him to keep quiet Mk 10.48

There are frequent references to crowds, and often to scuffles in the crowds, around Jesus. When they brought young children to him, for him to put his hands on them in blessing, the disciples tried to shoo the parents away.

Some of the Ascension children

Zacchaeus couldn’t reach Jesus for the crowds and had to climb a tree to see him. The woman with the issue of blood thought the crowd would hide her when she touched Jesus’ garment. And even in the desert, where he had gone for some peace, they saw him get into the boat and rushed round the shore to see him in their thousands.

So what hope did a blind man have of getting to talk to Jesus? But the day arrived when Jesus was going out of Jericho, and Bartimaeus heard the throng milling around the place where he was sitting by the town gate, begging. Not an easy time for a blind man – the risk of being trampled, suffocated by the press of the crowd.

As the noise grows louder, Bartimaeus realises that Jesus must be almost there; it is now or never. So he shouts out as loudly as he can, Son of David – Jesus – Have pity on me. That phrase found its way into Christian worship very early. Kyrie Eleison: Lord, have mercy: Lord, have pity. In the worship of the Eastern church it is a constant refrain, and here in the West we say or sing it at the start of Mass.

There are a few phrases like that in our prayer together that come directly from the Gospels; before Communion, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you; but speak the word only and your servant will be healed” That was first said by a Roman Centurion, asking for healing for his boy. Then in the old prayer book there is a similar phrase; ‘we are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table’: that was the woman of Canaan, asking for healing for her daughter … ‘even the dogs’, she said, ‘may lick up the crumbs under the table’.

So our worship is not an invention of Archbishop Cranmer at the time of the first Prayer Book in 1549. Rather, like all the missals and prayer books before, it drew on scripture to find the right words to say in God’s presence.

But blind Bartimaeus was not muttering a quiet prayer; he was shouting at the top of his voice - and he repeated it, ‘Son of David, have pity on me’. Those words, Kyrie Eleison, Lord, have mercy, have often been set to music; but too often they are made to sound very polite, quiet and pleading. They should not be marked p for piano or quiet but fff for fortissimo, very loud indeed. They deserve a great orchestral crescendo, a huge wave of sound – for that is how it was when Bartimaeus cried out hoping against hope that he might be heard in the great throng of people.

Do you remember another story of someone crying out: [Lk 18 1-7] “Jesus spoke a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint; Saying, There was in a city a judge, who feared not God, neither regarded man: And there was a widow in that city; and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adversary. And he would not for a while: but afterward he said within himself, Though I fear not God, nor regard man; Yet because this widow troubles me so, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me.
And the Lord said, Hear what the unjust judge says. And shall not God avenge his own elect, who cry day and night unto him, though he bear long with them?”
Perhaps our prayer needs to be more like the prayer of the blind beggar, or the widow pleading for justice. It may be that we give up too easily, supposing that God is not listening. No, he is teaching us; telling us that if we really want something we must be at least as insistent as a man asking to have his sight back, or a woman crying out for justice.

For many years, we have been praying for Christian Unity. It was in my first year as a newly ordained Deacon at St Mark’s, North End, that we went to a joint meeting in Portsmouth Guildhall - and for the first time since the Reformation the Roman Catholics were permitted by the Vatican to join in the Lord’s Prayer with other Christians. To tell that story now sounds as though it comes from the dark ages; but it is within fifty years. We prayed for Unity among Christians, and tried to do it our way; we made schemes for Unity with Methodists and with the United Reformed Church, and the schemes came to nothing. Then we worked at joint statements between the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church, and every time we seemed to have some agreement there would be part of our church which backed off, refused to agree to what everyone else had said.

Now, in this last week, it is as though a dam had burst; suddenly there is a real prospect for union between Anglicans and Roman Catholics. Many Anglicans will not like this, at least not at first. But once some pioneers have shown the way, there may be many who will want to avail themselves of the offer which the Holy Father is so generously making towards us: for which Jesus himself prayed, ‘that they may be one, that the world might believe’

It has taken a long time; but fifty years is only a short time in the history of the Church, and in God’s eternal plan it is the blink of an eye; ‘for in thy sight a thousand years are but as yesterday’ …. If you prayed in the past for Unity, then pray now as never before. Be as bold as blind Bartimaeus, shouting out to the Lord at the gates of Jericho. Be as persistent as the widow, making the unjust judge listen to her. Lord, hear us. Kyrie, Eleison

A Flying Buttress, aka Jane Barnes, with another pillar of the church, Dorothy Worsfold, who has already steered the Ascension through two periods without a parish priest. Pray that a faithful priest may soon be found for that lovely Portsmouth parish.

The Generous Church of England

The Archbishop has said that church property cannot be alienated. That was in answer to a question at the press conference with Archbishop Vincent Nichols. I wonder what expression crossed the face of the Archbishop of Westminster at that moment? Perhaps he recalled how just such alienation had happened before in England. All religious houses were alienated, or if you prefer nationalised, within a very few years, by Henry VIII to fund his wars and his palace building programmes. With the end of an absolute monarchy, no doubt Elizabeth II By the Grace of God &c could not act like her predecessor. There is no reason to suppose, though, that the Crown in Parliament could not do so. In the 19th Century it dissolved many of the twenty-four Irish bishoprics (and so triggered the Oxford Movement). In the 20th Century it disestablished the Welsh Church. In the 21st, it might well decide to disestablish and disendow the Church of England. Many of our bishops still live in cloud-cuckoo land, where the Cof E has a priest in every parish, and where everyone living in England has a right to be baptized, married and buried by that Church.

So, for instance, the Southwark bishops (You can see some of them here) have said: ‘We do not envisage our parochial structure with its parish churches changing, and we continue to have the responsibility of care for everyone in our parishes’.

What dreamers! The reality is that in many parts of England that old parish system has broken down. Whole swathes of the countryside are left with only a part-time, unpaid person trying to give the impression of ministering to five or ten or more parishes. In the towns, parish boundaries are increasingly ignored – not least by ‘church-plants’, often encouraged by bishops to the dismay of the local Vicar. Whereas once you could only be married in the parish where you or your intended lived, now you can find the feeblest of links with some church and be married there because it is pretty, or has better catering facilities – to say nothing of being able to have a woodland burial or marriage in a Hotel or a National Trust Property.

So it is time for the Churches to take an initiative. If the Church of England wants to be dog-in-the-manger and refuse to part with any of its ancient buildings (except when it can sell them to property developers) it will only hasten the time of its disestablishment. But what if it were to be truly generous, and allow other Christian bodies to use the church? That has happened already with various church-sharing schemes, but it could be hugely expanded. Or what if it were to say, to a priest seeking reconciliation with Rome, “By all means continue to use the church where your people feel at home – and since we can’t afford to maintain it, how about having it on permanent loan?” Now that really would be a blow for Christian Unity.

The Church of England also has the possibility of acting with generosity to those who feel obliged to leave – or it can face what has happened in the USA. There battles have been over church property. Here, it might rather be over compensation for constructive dismissal. If a young priest with a family simply cannot continue in a church which has changed its doctrine; if he cannot in conscience make vows to “The Bishop of x and his successors” when such successors might be female, then that church has the moral responsibility to do what it can to recompense him for loss of home and earnings. If the church does not recognise the problem, perhaps Parliament will.