A mediaeval pilgrimage route between Chester and Lichfield
Lichfield and Chester Cathedrals are on a pilgrimage route from Ireland to Canterbury and beyond, a route being brought back into use after centuries of neglect. The symbol above has the Lichfield Cross with one of Saint Werburgh’s geese flying upwards. We include this extract from the Lichfield cathedral website for its discussion of why people set out on pilgrimage.
Follow in the footsteps of Pilgrims who, in the Middle Ages, travelled the 92-mile route between the cathedral cities of Chester and Lichfield. Some of those pilgrims would have been Irish since Chester was the main port for those in the northern half of the island, so the favoured route to Canterbury, or even to Rome or Jerusalem, would have included visiting the shrines of St Werburgh at Chester, St Wulfad in Stone and St Chad here in Lichfield.
Mediaeval pilgrims set off in search of healing, forgiveness or courage to face life’s difficulties and some were looking for adventure. These days people take pilgrimage walks for many reasons; a break from the demands of everyday life, with time to think and reflect. Some people are motivated by faith and others walk to practise mindfulness. Whatever the motivation, all walkers of the Way and indeed anyone can benefit from the experience of pilgrimage – a route through countryside, towns and the cathedral cities of Chesthire and Staffordshire along the route.
I guess more than one of these reasons for making a pilgrimage fit me; how about you?
Tomas Halik was ordained secretly when the Church was being persecuted in Czechoslovakia, and is still in active ministry as a university teacher. He was asked to give the opening address to the European Continental Assembly in Prague, his home city. This is an extract, the whole speech can be found here.
At the beginning of their history, when Christians were asked what was new about their practice, whether it was a new religion or a new philosophy, they answered: it is the way. It is the way of following the one who said: I am the Way. Christians have constantly returned to this vision throughout history, especially in times of crisis…
[The Synod] is a short portion of a long journey. This small but important fragment of the historical experience of European Christianity must be placed in a wider context, in the colourful mosaic of the global Christianity of the future. We have to say clearly and comprehensibly what European Christianity today wants and can do to respond to the joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of our whole planet – this planet which is interconnected today in many ways and at the same time is divided and globally threatened in many ways. We are meeting in a country with a dramatic religious history.
This includes the beginnings of the Reformation in the 14th century, the religious wars in the 15th and 17th centuries and the severe persecution of the Church in the 20th century. In the jails and concentration camps of Hitlerism and Stalinism, Christians learned practical ecumenism and dialogue with nonbelievers, solidarity, sharing, poverty, the “science of the cross.” This country has undergone three waves of secularisation as a result of socio-cultural changes: a “soft secularisation” in the rapid transition from an agrarian to an industrial society; a hard violent secularization under the communist regime; and another “soft secularisation” in the transition from a totalitarian society to a fragile pluralistic democracy in the post-modern era. It is precisely the transformations, crises and trials that challenge us to find new paths and opportunities for a deeper understanding of what is essential. Pope Benedict, on a visit to this country, first expressed the idea that the Church should, like the Temple of Jerusalem, form a “courtyard of the Gentiles”.
We believe and confess that the Church is a mystery, a sacrament, a sign (signum) – a sign of the unity of all humanity in Christ. The Church is a dynamic sacrament, it is a way to that goal. Total unification is an eschatological goal that can only be fully realized at the end of history. Only then will the Church be completely and perfectly one, holy, catholic and apostolic. Only then will we see and mirror God fully, just as He is.
Christianity was the way in the beginning, and it is to be the way now and forever. So it was in the beginning, so it must be now and forever. The Church as a communion of pilgrims is a living organism, which means always to be open, transforming and evolving. Synodality, a common journey (syn hodos), means a constant openness to the Spirit of God, through whom the risen, living Christ lives and works in the Church. The synod is an opportunity to listen together to what the Spirit is saying to the churches today.
The photograph shows one of the demonstrations in Wenceslas Square in Prague that led to the overturning of Communist rule in what was then Czechoslovakia.
Another story: We once had a curate who did not see himself as a missionary. His next parish priest was not sympathetic towards him, but a lady parishioner was, and the diocese lost another priest to the Church of England. Being a missionary hardly inoculates a man or woman against that eventuality. But what, indeed, if a man is working in a parish alone? The fact that I can say, ‘working in a parish alone’, suggests more questions: why does he see himself as alone, where is the so-called parish family, is there a community life to support him? Does he let them support him? Does he let them take charge of ministries, or does he try to micro-manage them? Is there a supportive network of priests for him?
A century ago, Pope Benedict XV gave great impetus to the development of missionary understanding, beatifying the Uganda Martyrs and encouraging the growth of churches that would be truly local; his words about missionary religious superiors could profitably be applied to the whole Church community, for we also have responsibilities towards those we mandate and expect to evangelise us:
When [a missionary] sets out he is, as a rule, eager and ready to brave the most gruelling hardships… If a man encounters an attentive superior who always treats him with prudence and charity, his work cannot fail to be fruitful. But if the contrary occurs, then there is every reason to fear that the labours and hardships he meets will gradually wear him out, until he finally loses heart.
A young former Catholic who wrote to me recently was driven away in part by priests he saw as unbelieving, but I would see as worn out, losing heart. Certainly professional missionaries can become burnt out and discouraged, but who else do we see losing heart these days? Perhaps above all young people, but have we really tried the recipe that was given to us by a wise Parish Priest – ‘give them something to do?’ Visiting that parish we saw young people acting as choir and cantors, and about ten altar servers: ‘Usually there are more than that, but we find plenty of jobs for them to do.’ And the same could be true of any other parish, but I have heard too many of the faithful complain about Children’s Liturgy, ‘sloppy’ servers, noisy infants … People cannot fall away from the Church as adults if they’ve already been driven away as children. Yet the eight year old we saw, who had to stand on a stool to join the two teenage cantors, was a missionary in his own capacity.
Am I getting to the meat behind the stories and examples? Well, Ad Gentes insists:
“The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature, since it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she draws her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father.” (2 ; 3-5).
The Council itself presents the Church as a narrative: the Church is a pilgrim, living an ongoing story; she has a mission: we have all lived a chapter or two. The Church comes from the Son and the Spirit, according to the Father’s word. It is not the theology that lies behind the story, but the story that lies behind the theology.
There is a tradition for the Pope to greet pilgrims at Angelus time, around midday, and share a few thoughts, often on the readings for the day. We are glad to offer a selection from Pope Benedict XVI’s reflections, aimed at a general audience rather than academic theologians. Sometimes there are interesting asides addressed to particular groups of pilgrims, showing Benedict’s human side. Another from the Papal Residence at Castel Gandolfo, rarely visited by Pope Francis, dated 5 September 2010
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
First I would like to apologize for arriving late! I have just returned from Carpineto Romano where, 200 years ago, Pope Leo XIII, Vincenzo Gioacchino Pecci, was born. I thank the Lord for having been able to celebrate the Eucharist with his fellow citizens on this important anniversary. I now wish briefly to present my Message published a few days ago addressed to the young people of the world for the 26th World Youth Day that will be taking place in Madrid in a little less than a year.
The theme I have chosen for this Message uses an expression from St Paul’s Letter to the Colossians: “Planted and built up in Jesus Christ, firm in the faith” (2: 7). It is definitely a proposal that goes against the tide! Indeed who today suggests to young people that they be “rooted” and “firm”? Rather uncertainty, mobility and volubility are extolled… all aspects that reflect a culture unsure about basic values, about the principles on whose basis to direct and regulate life. In fact, because of my experience and the contacts I have with youth I know well that every generation, indeed, every individual person, is called to take anew the path of the discovery of life’s meaning. And it is for this very reason that I chose to propose again a Message in the biblical style that evokes the images of a tree and a house. A young person, in fact, is like a growing tree: to develop healthily it needs deep roots which when stormy gales come will keep it firmly planted in the ground. The image of the building under construction also recalls the need for good foundations so that the house will be solid and safe.
And this is the heart of the Message: it is inherent in the words “in Christ” and “in the faith”. The full maturity of the person, his or her inner stability, are founded in the relationship with God, a relationship that passes through an encounter with Jesus Christ. A relationship of deep trust, of authentic friendship with Jesus, can give a young person what he or she needs to face life: serenity and interior enlightenment, an aptitude for thinking positively, broadmindedness with regard to others, the readiness to pay in person for goodness, justice and truth. One last and very important aspect: in order to become a believer a young person is supported by the faith of the Church; if no one is an island, neither is the Christian who discovers in the Church the beauty of faith shared with others in brotherhood and in the service of charity.
My Message to young people is dated 6 August, the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord. May the light of Christ’s Face shine in the heart of every young person! And may the Virgin Mary accompany and protect communities and youth groups towards the important Meeting in Madrid in 2011.
After the Angelus:
I address a special Greeting to the community of Castel Gandolfo which is celebrating today the feast of its Patron, St Sebastian, and I willingly extend it to the delegation that has come from Châteauneuf du Pape. I wish you all a good Sunday.
I don’t see myself walking 200km this Lent, 80 would be an achievement this year with health difficulties. Maybe another year. Follow the link below if you are interested. We at the Mirror approve of walking and of pilgrimages!
CAFOD’s Big Lent Walk! New Year, new challenge!
This Lent get involved with CAFOD’s massive walking challenge, the Big Lent Walk. Walk, run, roll, or stroll 200km in 40 days to help people fight poverty. Sign up now
These bikes were in Bruges, Belgium during a car-free Sunday.
Mark Piper rode 100km from Chicago to Michigan City, Indiana in aid of children with brain tumours; the event remembers a small boy of the Chicago parish who died with this disease, Patrick McNamara. The full story is here, together with Piper’s reflections, on the National Catholic Reporter website. Since the pastor who was the race starter dedicated the race to Mary and the finishing line was at one of her churches, it seems an appropriate item for her feast today. She, if anyone, exhibited holiness in the world!
The pastor of the parish reminded us that our coming together, through the prayers and material assistance raised for these families, was community at its best. And he ended his blessing by inviting us all to recite the Hail Mary.
While sitting down at the post-ride party my mind … reflected on my first, but certainly not last, Pat Mac’s 100K ride. Although not draped in piety or devotions, or having any sacraments administered, this ride, by bringing us together and building community, exhibited a holiness in the world that perhaps enlivened Gospel service.
During my six hours on the bike, and a few more under a tent filled with food, stories and friendship, I certainly experienced church, being church and being church for others. May Our Lady, in Italy, Spain, France or Michigan City, Indiana, watch over us, keep us safe and hasten the day when paediatric cancer research brings forth a cure. Until this hopeful prayer is granted, I look forward to this bicycle ride and seeing that mosaic of Mary, at prayer herself, at the finish line.
From Canon Anthony Charlton’s blog, exploring ways to welcome pilgrims to the shrine of Saints Thomas Becket and Oscar Romero in Canterbury.
It was a delight for me one afternoon recently to have eleven groups of students from the School of Architecture of the University of the Creative arts present to us their projects. They were asked to create in our Martyrs Chapel a space that should contain the relics of St Thomas More and St Oscar Romero. As one submission said the “space is without focus, having collected so many relics and icons over the years there is no order to how they are placed, creating a dissonant space which lacks a clear focal point for prayer and worship.”
I was very moved to see how each group presented their designs. There was much inspiration and it was great to see the different ways they found to create a space for prayer and reflection for pilgrims and those who wished to come and pray. Many of the submissions recognised there was a need for more light. One darkened the chapel and explored the relationship between the dark and the light of the relics. Another submission was bold in creating an outside entrance with an antechamber.
The challenge now is for parishioners to meet and decide the next step in creating a beautiful space for the relics of these two great Martyrs.
We look forward to that meeting and to developing the shrine as an accessible, welcoming space in the heart of Canterbury. Thank you, Canon Anthony! And let’s not sacrifice this window in the present shrine.
Edmund was the young King of East Anglia, the area in Eastern England that juts into the North Sea. It was then a watery landscape, with creeks and inlets and very few human settlements of any size. Edmund was killed by invading Viking pirates in November 869 and, like Olav, was immediately honoured as a martyr. When his followers recovered his body it was riddled with arrow wounds and the head was nowhere to be found until someone heard a voice calling from the brambles, where they found a wolf guarding the King’s head between its paws.
Edmund’s grave became a place of pilgrimage, encouraged by the Danish King of England, and also of Denmark and Norway, Canute (r 1018-1035). He himself was an invader, responsible for the deaths of King Ethelred the Unready and many warriors as well as Saint Olav in Norway. A repentant Canute established Edmund’s shrine in the Benedictine Abbey of Bury Saint Edmund’s 900 years ago in 1022. It was further enhanced after 1066 by the Norman kings, themselves Viking invaders, responsible for the deaths of King Harold, many warriors and countless civilians. See here an account of some of the ecumenical Millennial celebrations in May. Events continue during 2022: www.visit-burystedmunds.co.uk/abbey-1000
The Norman tower and gateway remain intact. We were treated to bell-ringing practice one evening.
The Benedictine Abbey of Saint Edmund, patronised by English monarchs for centuries, was destroyed during the Reformation, though considerable ruins remain. The bones of King Edmund are reported to have been sealed in an iron chest and hidden, underground or under water. So far no archaeological survey has turned them up, but within the precincts of the former Abbey the pilgrim church of Saint James was chosen as the Cathedral for the Anglican diocese serving Suffolk: Saint Edmundsbury and Ipswich.
We did not get as far as the Catholic church of Saint Edmund, King and Martyr, but it is old for an English Catholic church, dating from 1791 for the present building, although the original, hidden chapel still stands hidden behind the presbytery, as it had to be in 1760, thirty years before Penal Laws against Catholics were abolished. It must have been a brave community that came together to worship illegally.
Chapel of Saint Thomas of Canterbury, St David’s Cathedral.
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
Psalm 46:10.
The text on the reading desk in Saint Thomas’s chapel invites us to compose ourselves, to be calm as we come before God. This is a quiet corner of Saint David’s Cathedral in Wales, but the saint it celebrates did not live a quiet life. Perhaps he had plenty of time to be still in God’s presence while he was in exile from England after disputes with the King, who wanted more control over the Church.
Archbishop Thomas, however, could not agree to this. God did not depend on earthly kings for his greatness: he was not and is not a tame god, working for a narrow national interest.
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.
In the stillness of his heart, Thomas accepted this and refused to be King Henry’s puppet. His martyrdom in his own Cathedral of Canterbury was the consequence of exalting God over his earthly lord.
This is the feast of the Translation of Saint Thomas – the day in 1220 when his bones were ‘translated’ to the new shrine in Canterbury Cathedral, and a better day for pilgrims to travel than late December, when he died.
Let us pray for the Church under persecution in so many parts of the world. And pray, too, for the Bishops of the Anglican Communion, gathered for their Conference, and for unity among all Christians, as Jesus prayed. AMEN.
Or should I say, an encouragement for pilgrims? This particular stretch of Wales’s Pembrokeshire Coast Path winds down only to go almost straight uphill, or up 121 stairs – I counted them. At the end of the day you can discover how many metres you have climbed overall. If you began at sea-level you will have descended a similar amount. We were not counting.
Fellowship is one of the gifts of pilgrimage, as yesterday’s picture showed us. Christina Rossetti reminds us that in our life-long pilgrimage we have also the support of the Church Triumphant, the saints who have gone before.
And “Yea, beds for all who come”, though “travel-sore and weak.” She does not specifically mention blisters!
Up-hill
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come."
Christina Rossetti
agnellusmirror 