Waiting for a Medal

Everyone is going on about enthronements or inauguration or whatever we are to call these events so today I am off at a tangent. The Prime Minister was addressing a little group of former sailors at Number Ten earlier this week. He became quite emotional saying what an honour it was for him &c &c. It would have been good if he, or better still his predecessor but six or seven, had seen fit to honour them when more of them were still alive. The men he was meeting had all served on the Russian Convoys in World War II.

 

 

Mother and I had gone first to Birkenhead, since Father was to sail from Liverpool. We had only been there a few days when a night raid of German bombers dropped a land-mine just outside the house where we were lodging. So Father decided that since his next port would be Greenock on the Clyde we had better go there - it was, he said, safely out of the range of German bombers.

 

It proved not to be so. Within a week of arriving we were bombed there too, the house where we had digs was uninhabitable, and we had to find somewhere else to stay. I think I was six at the time. When Father returned from that Convoy, he took a litle time finding us.

 

So I have memories of the Russian Convoys; the "Whoop, whop" of destroyers leaving port or returning home, the shore towards Gourock barricaded with barbed wire. My dad did not say much about his life at sea - but he had a little oak leaf on one of his medal ribbons, signifying he had been Mentioned in Dispatches. He also had a permanent souvenir in the pockmarks of shrapnel in his neck which he bore until his death - at the age of 58. He had served in the Royal Navy for twenty two years, joining in Boys' Service a year before he was legally old enough; his older brother signed his papers for him. He was Commissioned as a Warrant Officer Gunner, but was invalided out of the Service only a couple of years later aged 36, his health having been undermined by those terrible Arctic voyages.

 

Now he is to receive a medal. I shall put it with his others, ready to hand them on to our Grandson in due course. I went back to Greenock a few years go, and found it, to my surprise, quite beautiful. The view across the Clyde to the snowy hills above Loch Lomond were magical - my memories from childhood had only been of greyness and cold. Also the misery of being an English boy in a Scottish school mocked for being unable to roll my r's. Our own son suffered similar humiliation when we moved to Hull from Surrey, and his schoolmaster told him the word was castle, with a short a, not 'carstle" .. "there are no r's in Castle", he said. Yet our son has a great affection now for Hull. He has a more generous spirit than I possess - for I rather hope the Scots will make fools of themselves and vote YES in next year's referendum. But don't tell my Scots brother-in-law that I said so!

Busy weekend

So after the Day of Recollection it was not home to the slippers, but rather a 6pm Vigil Mass in Lymington, filling in for our Parish Priest who is having a short breather. Then this morning off bright and early to Bournemouth for the Ordinariate Sunday Mass. In the course of it, the Confirmation of Teresa (who added the Christian Name Mary). For the first time we had all four parts in our singing group, so had the treat of the Communion Motet Hide not thou Thy face from me. It was particularly good to have friends of Teresa present - and also another new family seeking a spiritual home.

After Mass a short instruction on "The Doorway of Faith", and then a dash across town to the Anglican Church of St Francis, where the Priest in Charge laid to rest the ashes of Teresa Mary's father, Ray. Ray had been Head Server at St Francis' and Lord-high-everything-else for many years. His widow's ashes were already there, so it was fitting as his final resting place. Fr Wastie and many old friends from the parish greeted us warmly, which made up for the bitter cold of the morning.

 

The Priory Chapel

Somehow I had not expected retirement to be quite so busy; but it is very enjoyable. Oh, and at the end of today's Mass we had our three Rome pilgrims line up for a blessing. They set off  tomorrow morning together with dozens of other members of Ordinariate Groups on a journey which will take them to Pope Benedict's last General Audience in St Peter's Square (watch it on Zenit) and to Assisi.

I think you will see from these photos that yesterday was a pretty laid-back
occasion - not too much heavy theology, rather a consideration of where we are at present, where we have come from, and how we fit in the grand scheme of things. Best of all, it was enjoyable, and we all got to know others in our Group rather better. Our intention is to be welcoming, so that anyone coming to Mass with us, or to coffee after Mass, will soon feel at home. This seems to be our special calling in this Year of Faith, taking part in the New Evangelization.

My system was unable to cope with the pictures of St Dominic's yesterday. Today our Computer Wizard brought a memory stick with them on, so I am posting a few here for your interest.

Some but not all of the participants

 

 

Day of Recollection

St Dominic's Priory, just up the road from Lymington, gave hospitality to twenty of our Ordinariate Group today (most of them above, in the Chapel). Our ages ran from the early teens to the late seventies, and everyone contributed. Thomas, our youngest member, helped out with difficult questions - such as, 'how many Popes have there been?' We began in the morning looking at some Geography; two of those present discovered they both came from within a few miles of one another, in Cheshire. Others had connexions in East Anglia, in the South West, and even in Dallas. It was all leading us to consider Paul (a citizen of Tarsus, no mean City) who told us that our homeland is in heaven, that here we have no abiding city, that we are strangers and pilgrims. We started looking at places on our Pilgrimage, and unsurprisingly Walsingham featured very large.

We joined the Sisters at their mid-day Office, and at Mass, and thought briefly about persecution; whatever we have to put up with is nothing compared with our brothers and sisters in the Middle East, or Northern Nigeria - or even compared with Polycarp Bishop of Smyrna commemorated in today's Mass, burned to death in the Arena around 155AD..

Despite the biting cold some had a little walk in the Forest after our picnic lunch, then we settled down to considering our History. Many of us had 'done' the Tudors and Stuarts (some three times in their school career) yet knew little about the coming of Christianity to these Islands. We were reminded of the Saints of the North, Cuthbert and Bede and Hilda, and considered Alfred's part in re-establishing monasticism after the depradations of the Vikings. We wondered why we heard nothing about the Recusants, and how whenever Catholics appeared it was always in the role of baddies; the wives of Stuart kings leading them into the ways of Popery, with the nation eventually saved by loveable William of Orange. Hurrah! Except that he was such a disastrous human being, redeemed only by employing Christopher Wren to modernise Hampton Court.

In all, we learned a bit of geography, a little history, but much more (and more interestingly) things about ourselves and one another.  Tomorrow we shall be confirming one of our number; another will be joining us in a fortnight's time. This is proving a happy and exciting Lent for our little Bournemouth Ordinariate Group..

Memory

 



Perhaps it was the first death in our Ordinariate Group which sparked us - or I should say one of our members - into action. Brian Harrison began collecting names and dates of deceased relatives and friends of the Group a couple of weeks ago, and today he presented the results of his labours. At the Offertory be brought to the altar this book of remembrance; and because the entire thing is on computer, it will be kept up to date. So we shall be able to remember those dear to us week by week at Mass.

 

Today was important for other reasons, though. We heard that the impediment to the marriage of one of our members had been removed, so she will be able to be confirmed and receive Communion very soon. Then too we were introduced to Darryl Jordan, his wife  Lisa and Catherine their teenage daughter. They came to England from Dallas where they had belonged to the Episcopal Church. Here Darryl served in the diocese of Winchester as an assistant in the parish of Christchurch. Lately they achieved British Citizenship. Now they are all preparing to be received into the Catholic Church through the Ordinariate - and we very much hope that Darryl might be accepted for Ordination later this year. So little by little the Group grows. A little over a year ago we began with just a couple of dozen of us worshipping together. Today, joined by a few established Catholic friends, we were thirty-nine at Mass. Not spectacular, but steady growth which encourages us for the future. On Ash Wednesday our parish priest entrusted the evening Parish Mass to us, so our servers and singers and clergy helped lead the worship. On future Wednesdays through Lent we shall have Stations before the 10.30 Mass. At the end of this week we have a Day of Recollection for Lent at the Dominican Sisters' House in Sway. Some of our members will participate in the Ordinariate's Pilgrimage which will be in Rome during the Holy Father's last week in Office. Small steps, but gradually it seems we are being led towards a fuller life together, with many of the marks of a parish.

 

This is not said by way of boasting - we are still a pretty fragile plant - but simply in the hope that it might encourage others who until now have hesitated about stepping into the Barque of Peter. 



 



Dimanche Gras aka Shrove Sunday

 

 

 

Today we welcomed our Bournemouth Ordinariate Group to lunch; quite a squeeze to get us all in - all but about half a dozen managed to join us - and a very merry pre-Lent it turned out. Jane had excelled herself; not just three main hot dishes, and three different home-made ice-creams, but even one vegan meal and one non-dairy. She has been preparing this for a week, the freezer was bursting, there were dishes everywhere. But everyone seemed to enjoy it.

 

 

We spilled out into the conservatory and despite the wintry weather kept warm - two heaters had been on since first light. If the Group grows much bigger we shall only be able to host summer events in the garden but by pressing every chair into service and having a few camping seats brought along we managed.

 

 

Somehow word had got out about a birthday, so there was a certain amount of noisy singing - we shall have to pacify the neighbours this week. In fact they never complain, and seem to enjoy the comings and goings of a pseudo-prebytery. When all but a handful had left, seven of us watched the end of the six nations Rugby, and had the satisfaction of watching England beat Ireland- though now that we are Catholics maybe we should feel divided loyalties on such an occasion?

 

After today we shall batten down the hatches, and enter Lent. We are hoping to have a quiet Day at the Dominican Sister's house in Sway on Saturday 23rd, and there will be Stations at 9.45 on Wednesdays beginning on 20th, before our mid-week Mass. This year our Parish Priest has asked the Group to look after the evening Mass on Ash Wednesday, and our musicians are getting to grips with the Lent Prose. After today's meal I feel a little like Elijah, who went in the strength of that food for forty days.

 

 





 

Reburying Richard III

People  seem to be missing a rather important point concerning the mortal remains of the last Plantaganet king. Richard III was laid to rest in a monastic church in Leicester. That church building was destroyed by the son of Henry VII, the Tudor usurper who had defeated Richard on Bosworth field. What is more, the Church to which Richard belonged, the Catholic Church, was similarly laid waste by the son of the first Tudor King . So how would it be right to re-inter Richard's remains in a church building confiscated by his enemy's son with a rite invented by that same pretender? There is a petition to have him reburied with Catholic rites in a Catholic Church. But in the end, I can't get too excited about all of this - leave the dead to bury their dead. We have a more pressing calling - "Come, follow me".

A Day in the Unity Octave

 

 

Ray had been the first lay member of the Bournemouth Ordinariate Group: and today he was laid to rest, in our first Ordinariate funeral. He had been head server at St Francis' Bournemouth for many years before entering the Catholic Church, and he had trained generations of servers. Many of them were there today, in the congregation or serving at the Mass.

 

Fr Brian Copus had been given many anecdotes by the former Vicar of St Francis, now himself a priest of the Ordinariate near Oxford. One story that Fr Paul Berrett had not relayed, though, was told to me in the Church Hall after the Mass. It seems a bishop had come to St Francis' with the intention of celebrating and preaching wearing brown shoes. Ray produced for him a pair of black sanctuary slippers and instructed the prelate that if he was to appear in the sanctuary he had better be properly shod.

 

In recent years he has been in a nursing home, where we were able to take him the Blessed Sacrament week by week. He will be sorely missed by us all, especially by his daughter Teresa who is a mainstay of our music. She brought together a number of her friends to sing today - a lovely albeit sad occasion, which was a real time of reconciliation for many. Anglicans, Catholics and many others joined to pay tribute to a lovely man. May be rest in peace.