Following Peter

Long-time Catholics have been giving a wonderful welcome to us johnny-come-latelys in the Ordinariate. Just a few have found it difficult, though. Indeed one commented on a posting of mine in the Anglo-Catholic blog. Maybe today's Mass reading from Acts 15 can help.

Peter and Barnabas were faced with a group of hard-liners from Judaea who wanted the Church to impose the whole Jewish law on Gentiles converting to Christianity. They had "no small dissension and disputation" with them - so the matter was referred to headquarters, in Jerusalem. There, it was a group of Pharisees who wanted to press the hard line, "to command them to keep the law of Moses". So the Church met in Council, the Apostles and elders together.

Peter reminded them how "God put no difference between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith". It was James, leader of the Church in Jerusalem, who delivered the Council's decision. "My sentence is, that we trouble them not, which from among the Gentiles are turned to God".


That same generous spirit has worked in Benedict as it did in Peter and the first Apostles. There may be some who think it improper that former Anglicans had only Lent for a eucharistic fast, or that former Anglican priests are put on a fast track - just six months from leaving the Church of England to Ordination as Catholic priests. In that time, though, they have undergone rigorous assessment, and have begun a course of training to 'make up that which is lacking' in their former priestly formation. It is undoubtedly generous of the Holy Father, to receive us in this way. Some would assert it is a risky procedure. But the Pope is willing to trust the Holy Spirit - and refuses to 'put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples' (note the word which Peter uses of the new Christians) 'which neither we nor our fathers were able to bear').

If this fails to persuade you, then perhaps you might continue from the first reading for today, to the Gospel?

Nearer God's Heart?

When life was getting a little fraught a few months ago, one of the PEVs advised me to "stick to the garden". He feared I might breach some protocol of which I was unaware, and plainly he thought the garden was safe blogging territory. So here, a bit late but in dutiful obedience, is a garden blog. Today Jane and I went to Mottisfont, the National Trust's great rose garden near Romsey. It is already wonderful, and in the next two or three weeks will be overwhelming. Meanwhile, in case you cannot get to Mottisfont, [and you certainly should if you can] I thought a few images from my own modest plot might cheer you up.


I enjoy beachcombing, and the pink globe in this picture is a fisherman's float washed up on a local beach - and contrasting happily with, I think, the Hybrid Musk Rose Felicia.

Yellow roses are among my favourites. Canary Bird and Banksia Lutea are already over, but this is the great Arthur Bell, the so-called climbing variant which is really just a very tall shrub rose; but you can train the branches down onto supports, and then it happily produces a second crop latger in the season. The scent is typically crisp, as seems to be true for most yellow roses.


Some people seem to think a garage is a place for a car: what a waste! Ours is full of gardening essentials, and in front of it are pots with everything in them from eight-foot trees (a pine or two and a young birch) to alpines. Above, though you will see Hydrangea Petiolaris guarding the garage entrance.


Our plot is not exclusively roses: here near the front door is the dogwood, Cornus Mas; better this year than I can remember.



The white rose which is so prevalent in our garden is all from a cutting of a Hybrid Musk rose, I think called Moonlight. Sadly, it is unscented: but that is more than made up for by Zigeuner Knabe, the deep purple rose in this picture, with a heavenly perfume. And on the right a Rowan (no relation) from a marvellous nursery near here, Spinners. The Rowan in question is Chinese Lace, and if you click on the picture to enlarge it you might be able to make out some of its deeply cut leaves (lower right)

Team Photo

As promised (courtesy of © Personal Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham - not, as I had thought, Fr James Bradley - but then he is in it, so..) the team photo from yesterday's meeting at Allen Hall.

Heavy Day at Allen Hall

My, we've been worked hard today. First there was our homework; studying ethical questions with the help of Donum Vitae (produced by the CDF) and Familiaris Consortio of John Paul II. To guide us through these documents, and lead us beyond them, we had the help of Fr John Wilson (left) of the Diocese of Leeds (and formerly of Ushaw College). Many of us former Anglican clergy are married, so the questions raised were particularly personal to us and our families. For me, the pastoral approach of successive Popes in considering these matters is what predominated.



Then, we had our Ordinary with us - he celebrated Mass with us at the end of the afternoon. (here at lunch with the Archbishop)



The icing on this very rich layer-cake was a visit by our Archbishop of Westminster, Vincent Nicholls, who spoke to us and answered questions in the half-hour before lunch. It is good to know that the Ordinariate is so high on the Archbishop's agenda that he found time to visit us in this way (and there will be a team photograph to prove it).



Msgr Keith also spoke briefly, comparing and contrasting his experiences of the House of Bishops of the Church of England and the meeting of the Catholic Bishops of England and Wales. From my own time in office I would agree that the Anglican meeting was not one to which I ever looked forward with enthusiasm. Clearly his experience with the Catholic Bishops in Leeds last week was an altogether happier occasion.



These sessions at Allen Hall are proving hugely valuable for all of us newly or soon-to-be ordained. It is good to be looking in some depth at questions of human life and reproduction which seemed to occupy so little thought in our former communion.



To be able to direct the faithful to authoritative summaries of the Church's teaching is a great gift - to be able to explain them clearly to our people, in the confessional or in sermons, is a huge responsibiity. The informal discussion we have over meals or in the short breaks between lectures are very important for the creation of a coherent pastorate within the Ordinariate. Though it is an expensive business getting up to London week by week, it is not something I would want to miss.

Patrimonial Hymns

Great mirth at Allen Hall this week when, to the question "any difficulties you've met?", came the answer "the music". Why is it that the Catholic Church is so prescriptive about its liturgy, yet seems to allow any hymns/songs/ditties at Mass? I have been coopted to the little group in my local catholic parish which selects hymns for Sunday worship. The problems seems to be (1) the available hymn book and (2) the congregation's small familiar repertoire. Perhaps Ed Tomlinson has the answer; appeal for copies of English Hymnal. That could be right if you are setting up an Ordinariate church. But many of us will be trying to bring something of our Patrimony into an existing Catholic congregation. There seems to be genuine goodwill among many of those congregations to improve their standard of music - and the answer cannot be Gregorian Chant all round. Yet when on Easter Day the best anyone can come up with is "This is the day, this is the day, that the Lord has made that the Lord has made" ... and so on ad nauseam, there really must be something better.

Will the rite eventually approved for groups of former Anglicans include any help over the matter of Hymnody? Surely it is part of our Patrimony; not just because there are good tunes and decent verse, but because we have learned the faith from our treasury of hymns almost as much as from Sacred Scripture. Perhaps the Ordinary could make a start by banning all hymn books which contain more by Estelle M White than by Charles Wesley?

Today, though, great encouragement; the Organist at Our Lady Queen of Peace in Southbourne, where our local Ordinariate Group will make its home, has written in our parish newsletter "God gave you the voice you've got. Use it to praise Him! It doesn't matter if you don't think you can sing.. if you are still singing a hymn on the way home after Mass, you are carrying on with your prayer." My only addendum would be "provided the Hymn you are still singing is addressed to God, about God, not focussed on 'me' and 'I'".

PS does anyone else hate "here I am, Lord - Look at me, Lord..."?

De Gustibus ...

Curious how we English can get thoroughly sentimental (banks of flowers for Diana, colour supplements for Kate) yet somehow shmaltz in religion leaves us cold. Or is it just me? Doubtless commenters will tell me.



I find that Bernini of the vision of St Teresa of Avila rather repellant - marble porn - though to some it is the apogee of Baroque art. Even more off-putting, though, is the imagery concerning "Divine Mercy". I saw it first on a poster at a bus-stop in St Albans, and thought it must be the product of some U.S. sect. Now I discover it is thanks to newly Blessed J-P II that we have this devotion. It's not devotion to the Mercy of God I find difficult; just the way it is depicted.



So is part of the Patrimony an approval for "less-is-more" - one simple image of the Crucified being more moving than a church full of plaster saints? It is easy to write this off as Protestant Puritanism - but is is there in Catholicism too, not just in Savonarola but also in the chasteness of Cistercian architecture.



But of course, there is no arguing where taste is concerned. Just disagreement.

Enduring Values

That wedding has stirred up a great deal of conversation; some concerning the need in our lives for ritual, and even religion. So I thought you might like a picture or two concerning our religious and ritual roots. We collected our young grandson the other day for part of his half-term break. We met him and his parents halfway between here and his South Wales home and finding ourselves near Avebury devided to make the diversion. This central England of chalk downland and river valleys holds within it some of the most magical elements of prehistoric times; burial mounds, henges, Silbury - largest man-made hill in Europe. There are stone avenues heading off across the plain. English Heritage cares for the site, and provides lectures on Shamanism and Druids and all manner of invented stories. The stones themselves speak more eloquently.



This great arrangement of ceremonial stones still evokes wonder: how did those prehistoric people erect such a monument, and why? It was good to see so many families there, playhing, picnicing, and simply wondering at it all. The Avebury circles predate Stonehenge, and even the Pyramids of Egypt. It is hard to grasp the scale of such a construction, which encircles a whole village. Although many of the stones have been removed, broken up for building materials, even buried over the centuries, what remains still speaks of the human need for meaning in life. So just look at the stones, and enjoy them.



[Click on the photos for a larger version]