24 September: Franciscans in Walsingham

Our Lady of Walsingham

This is the beginning of an interesting article by Ellen Teague in Saint Anthony’s Messenger Magazine, setting the Franciscans’ return to Walsingham and their ministry there in their historical and ecumenical context. Today is the feast of Our Lady of Walsingham.

IF YOU have ever visited Walsingham, England’s National Marian Shrine, you may have noticed a ruined friary standing on a small hill outside the village. This Franciscan Friary was built in the mid-14th century and flourished for nearly two centuries, until the dissolution of religious houses under King Henry VIII. Over the last five centuries, the friars of the order which served there until the 1530s  – the Order of Franciscan Friars Conventual, more commonly known as Greyfriars – never forgot Walsingham. They have prayed for friars buried there, for those who had caused the destruction of this holy place, and for the day when Greyfriars would return to Walsingham.

There were great celebrations then on 19 March 2018 when a small group of Greyfriars formally returned to Walsingham, to be based in the centre of the town; it was the solemnity of the Feast of St Joseph. Friar Marco Tasca, Minister General of the Greyfriars, attended from Rome. He said the friars aim to a prophetic sign of dialogue and reconciliation to the world today, ministering to Walsingham’s many pilgrims just as they did five centuries ago.

Ancient pilgrimage

Pilgrims have flocked to the small Norfolk village of Little Walsingham since the 11th century to visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. It was in the Anglo-Saxon village pre-dating the Norman invasion that a devout English Lady, Richeldis de Faverches, experienced three visions in 1061 in which the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to her. In these visions Richeldis was shown the house of the Annunciation in Nazareth, and was requested to build a replica of it. Mary is said to have promised that, “whoever seeks my help there will not go away empty-handed.” In Medieval times, when travelling abroad became difficult because of the Crusades, Walsingham evolved into a place of great Christian importance and pilgrimage, ranking alongside Jerusalem, Rome and Santiago de Compostela. The popularity of Walsingham was boosted since it was impossible for Christians to visit Nazareth itself, which was in Saracen hands.

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13 February: Reflections for Lent.

It’s not yet Lent, but not too early to share an excellent resource for teaching or personal reflection.

The Global Sisters Report offers, free of charge, six Lenten reflections designed for the secondary school, drawing on the Sunday Gospels and sisters’ experience of ministry in many parts of the world. Teachers or catechists may find these resources valuable and interesting, but other readers will discover aspects of the Good News we were unaware of. Excellent starting points for reflection.

There are more free reflections on many more topics.

https://www.globalsistersreport.org/classroom/lessons/topic/136213

8 October: Primarily a spiritual journey: the Synod starts tomorrow.

Did I say I hoped the documents from the synod would be in clear English? Well, I’ve had a go at making this one clear. It tells about the opening ceremonies in Rome. I’ve reduced it from 10 pages to one; part;y by discarding lists of names and job titles of senior participants. You can follow the ceremonies live on Vatican News.

Opening of the Synodal Process 9-10 October 2021  

Pope Francis will officially open the Synod on Synodality at the Vatican with a Celebration of the Eucharist in St. Peter’s Basilica (Sunday, 10 October), preceded by a Reflection (Saturday, 9 October). Live streamed from 9.00 a.m. on Vatican News (www.vaticannews.va) in 6 languages, on the VaticanNews App, or on VaticanMedia.

Reflection for the start of the synodal process, Saturday 9 October

This will be in two parts: in plenary session and in language groups, including delegates from Bishops’ Conferences, members of the Curia, fraternal delegates, delegates from consecrated life and lay movements, the youth council. Pope Francis will join the first part.

The opening will also be attended by the International Youth Advisory Body made up of young people under the age of 30 from all continents. 

9:00 Enthronement of the Word of God. The procession will include three young people: a man from Portugal will carry the Gospel, a woman from Chile and a man from India will carry candles. The proclamation will be in three languages – A sister from Italy in Italian – A young man from Lebanon in English – A young woman from El Salvador in Spanish. After a period of Silence, Laudate Omnes Gentes is sung. 9:20 Speech by Pope Francis; 9:45 Greeting by Card. Jean-Claude Hollerich, General Rapporteur of the Synod 10:00; Six Testimonies from different continents: to describe how they live their baptismal condition and their ecclesial ministry and what they expect from the Synodal process on Synodality.  

Eucharistic celebration presided over by the Holy Father, Sunday October 10, St Peter’s Basilica at 10.00 a.m.

 The Cardinals and Bishops enter in procession with 25 representatives of the different continents: a visually impaired person; two religious, two young people from the youth ministry, a Congolese family; a permanent deacon with his wife and two children, a young man from the Romanian Latin rite community and one from the Indian Syro-Malabar rite community, a Lebanese Maronite chaplain, an engaged couple and two other couples, a young priest, a young man from the Roman Catholic Church, a young man from the Indian Orthodox Church and a young man from the Italian Orthodox Church. 

THE GENERAL SECRETARIAT OF THE SYNOD OF BISHOPS 

The General Secretariat is supported by: 

The Orientation Advisory Committee 

The Theological Commission

The Commission on Methodology

The Commission on Spirituality – The Synod is primarily a spiritual journey during which the Church commits itself to listening to the Holy Spirit.

2 August: A Ugandan ‘thank you’ to Pope Francis for creating the catechist ministry

 

A Ugandan ‘thank you’ to Pope Francis for creating the catechist ministry by Lazar Arasu from National Catholic Reporter, June 30. A taste of the article follows; the whole piece can be found at this link.

Moses Kiggwa is a dedicated catechist in Kamuli parish within Jinja Diocese, which is about 70 miles east of our capital of Kampala. Besides training as a primary teacher, he also trained himself as a catechist.

“I find joy in being a catechist more than anything else,” Moses told me recently. He eventually gave up his teaching career to be a full-time evangelizer. He noted with pride that he has helped to found several sub-parishes in the remote areas of his parish, along the Nile River.

Now in his late 50s, he is still committed to educating people to faith. Riding his bicycle for several years in his evangelization efforts has created serious health problems, but he is only happy that he has sustained the faith of several hundreds of people.

Surely there are lessons for the rest of the Church from the long-standing ministry of catechists in countries like Uganda?

26 April: Prostate before the Lord.

Peter (Piotr) Wygnański grew up in Cambridge and was an altar server for 11 years in the parish of St Laurence. He was ordained priest on 25 July 2019 in the Cathedral of Saint John the Baptist, Norwich, by Bishop Alan Hopes.

Part of the ordination rite has the deacon lying flat on the floor while prayers are said or sung.

In his homily, Bishop Alan said: “Jesus tells us we must be prepared to share in his suffering and death…and at the heart of our ministry must be humility”. Priesthood, he added, “Is nothing to do with status”.

The Bishop told Peter: “Your prostration before God…is an abandonment of yourself to His love and will” and he encouraged him to “model your life on the mystery of the Lord’s cross”.

I’m not sure that these two friends from L’Arche Ipswich were thinking of any of that as they got down close to the tulips, but the flowers are given to us by God’s love and will, and by abandoning their upright dignity to wake up and smell the flowers they got closer to His loving gift of tulips, their colour, shape, texture and scent.

If you wait till July you can look up humbly at 3 metres high sunflowers instead!

• Peter Wygnański’s story shared from the East Anglia diocese website; see link above.
• Tulip lovers’ photo courtesy of L’Arche Ipswich.

19 February: Charity and Ostentation

Dr Graham Beards, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Out of six churches in Birmingham, three bear the names of the donors [including St Philip’s, above, now the Cathedral] … The gifts, which the benefactor himself believes are charitable, and expects the world to believe the same, if scrutinized, will be found to originate from various causes–counterfeits are apt to be offered in currency for sterling. Perhaps ostentation has brought forth more acts of beneficence than charity herself; but, like an unkind parent, she disowns her offspring, and charges them upon charity.

Ostentation is the root of charity; why else are we told, in capitals, by a large stone in the front of a building–“This hospital was erected by William Bilby, in the sixty-third year of his age, 1709.” Or, “That John Moore, yeoman, of Worley Wigorn, built this school, in 1730.”–Nay, pride even tempts us to strut in a second-hand robe of charity, left by another; or why do we read–“These alms-houses were erected by Lench’s trust, in 1764. W. WALSINGHAM, BAILIFF.” Another utters the word charity, and we rejoice in the echo. If we miss the substance, we grasp at the shadow.

Sometimes we assign our property for religious uses, late in the evening of life, when enjoyment is over, and almost possession. Thus we bequeath to piety, what we can keep no longer. We convey our name to posterity at the expence of our successor, and scaffold our way towards heaven up the walls of a steeple. Will charity chalk up one additional score in our favour, because we grant a small portion of our land to found a church, which enables us to augment the remainder treble its value, by granting building leases? a man seldom makes a bargain for heaven, and forgets himself. Charity and self-interest, like the apple and the rind, are closely connected, and, like them, we cannot separate one without trespassing on the other.

In contributions of the lesser kind … [we do not] fear our left hand knowing what our right hand doth, our only fear is, lest the world should not know it.

This superb edifice (Saint Philip’s Church, now Birmingham Cathedral) was begun by act of Parliament, in 1711, under a commission consisting of twenty of the neighbouring gentry, appointed by the bishop of the (Lichfield) diocese, under his episcopal seal.

From An History of Birmingham (1783) by William Hutton.

William Hutton seems to have cast a very cold eye over the benefactors of his home town! But perhaps we can learn from the 18th Century about doing good without the trumpets blaring in the market place. The benefactor, Hutton says, believes he is being charitable, when he’s actually showing off. This Lent, how am I kidding myself?

St Philip’s will always have a special place in our family for it was there that my cousin Margaret was ordained deacon and priest. Pray for her and all ministers in this time of uncertainty. Lench’s Trust is still providing housing for elderly people in Birmingham.

MMB

14 July: About Saint Mildred

Saint Mildred at Preston-next-Wingham, Kent.

On Sunday 12th July, Rev Jo Richards was celebrating St Mildred’s day, which actually falls on 13th, yesterday.

Merciful God, who gave such grace to your servant Mildred that she served you with singleness of heart and loved you above all things: help us, whose communion with you has been renewed in this sacrament, to forsake all that holds us back from following Christ and to grow into his likeness from glory to glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Mrs Turnstone and I took our afternoon walk across the marshes and meadows to Preston-next-Wingham’s Church of Saint Mildred. The crop in the field is cabbages. The organist was practising and stewarding the church for corvid tracing at the same time. We had a catch-up, as he is the husband of our daughter’s friend, a pray and a picnic in the churchyard. Thank you Saint Mildred!

Then yesterday, Mildred’s actual feast, Rev Jo came for a pastoral visit to the Glebe, blessing Vince and me and all absent friends. We got talking about the extraordinary young women in early times in England and Wales. Even locally there were Mildred and Eanswythe in Folkestone, but so many more who saw God’s will outside the good marriage and happy-ever-after that was expected for them.

Today, I said, you are part of a new wave.

Oh yes, but there’s also Archdeacon Jo and Bishop Rose. Not just me.

Indeed, not just Jo, and not just middle-aged women, and not just Anglicans either. I hope and pray that young women are appreciated for their ministry. You don’t have to be an official Christian Minister to be a Christian minister, but it would do good to remember in our intercessions those who are caring, teaching, driving buses and so on. Good to bring them to God; good for them to feel recognised; good for us to feel grateful. May we all grow into His likeness.

St_Mildred,Preston_next_Wingham,_Kent–Window–geograph.org.uk-_325439

30 June, Going Viral XL: God with us in the most challenging of times.

More reflection from Rev Jo Richards of Canterbury. I hope that by the time this is published the restrictions on people attending funerals will have been eased. Thank you again for allowing us to share your reflections, Jo.

Just back from another funeral, this really is tough with so few family and friends being present, to say goodbye to someone, and this morning reading Psalm 23 seemed to speak into the situation of being comforted by God’s presence in all that we are and all that we do. That sense of God with us both in the good times, and the most challenging of times. 

Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over. 
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: 
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

I saw this yesterday from the Mother’s Union prayer diary, which I thought was lovely: Trying to do the Lord’s work in your own strength is the most confusing, exhausting and tedious of all works. But when you are filled with the Holy Spirit, then the ministry of Jesus just flows out of you.’ Corrie Ten Boom 1892- 1983.  

Rev Jo Richards,

Rector of the Benefice of St Dunstan, St Mildred and St Peter, Canterbury.

The Good Shepherd statue in St Mildred’s, Canterbury.

June 10: Of Syllables and Steps, Singing and Silence III

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There are moments for movement in the liturgy, often missed or mishandled: processions with cross and lights, perhaps an Asperges entrance rite; processions with the book, with the gifts; an orderly procession to Communion. When African seminarians visiting our parish processed with the Book of Gospels to the sound of drums, the reverence they showed to the Word certainly inspired awe in a Kentish congregation.

Most Catholics, thank God, will never experience the sub-ten-minute Latin Mass that had me stumbling over the well-known responses, followed by, ‘If you ever come near me to serve my Mass again or I’ll kick you from here to Kingdom Come.’ Any awe from Fr G came from his fire-and-brimstone sermons at other priest’s Masses. Priests had it easy, speaking God’s own language; no need to work on phrasing and diction. The laity could pray or stray, every one in his own way; we worshipped together largely because we were in the same building at the same time, Some ‘hearing Mass’ from the porch or beyond.

Some elements of the Tridentine Liturgy now seem difficult to credit: carrying the Missal from one side of the altar to the other behind the priest’s back; the choreography by which the MC would direct priest, deacon and subdeacon to doff their birettas as the choir sang the Gloria; the subdeacon veiled on the bottom step, holding up the paten. Did these inspire awe? Nerves in this altar server: would I miss a cue?

Our celebrations are often far from perfect now: servers still fluff their cues, readers may be inaudible or over-dramatic, babies may cry, someone will sing flat, another will be three syllables behind in the congregation’s prayers, the person before you at Communion will genuflect unexpectedly and nearly send you flying. We can cope with all that if we believe that God is at work here and we are his instruments. As his instruments, we should be fine-tuning ourselves against each other, from Vox Clara to Vince and Clare in the next pew.

Well-led singing helps us to be at one, and may even persuade the babies to be quiet. There are tuneful and singable English Masses, and the Latin Missa de Angelis, or part of it could be learnt by most congregations; but we could discard or edit quite a few hymns from the last 150 years!

9 June; Of Syllables and Steps, Singing and Silence: II

There is a moment of truth in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ when the latent emotions of the rude mechanicals’ play emerge to touch their audience at the wedding feast. At Mass there should be moments of truth. Despite the crooked translation, it is for ministers, to the best of their ability, to speak the words, to love the Word as though it were alive, as though they believe it, as though it were awesome; from ‘In the Name of the Father’ by way of ‘The Word of the Lord’, ‘Through your goodness’, ‘This is my Body’, ‘the Body of Christ’ (looking the communicant in the eye), to ‘Go in Peace’. A challenge, truly.

There are moments in liturgy as in life, when silence can and should be observed:

Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another —

Let us hold hands and look.”

She, such a very ordinary little woman;

He, such a thumping crook;

But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels

In the teashop’s ingle-nook.

John Betjeman, ‘In a Bath Teashop’

Silence can bring focus and awe: when I led Children’s Liturgy of the Word at the parish Mass I used to ask my ‘very ordinary’ child readers to count to ten in their heads to allow reflection between the bidding – let us ask God to …, and its prayer – Lord hear us.

Silence between the consecration and the acclamation; silence before inviting everyone to join in the Lord’s Prayer, silence after communion: these can inspire a sense of awe. All should participate in these silences, unlike the silence of the old rite with the priest mumbling prayers and not really silent at all, and the congregation praying the Rosary.