Dewi Sant, Canon Ursell and a Debt to Wales

What could the debt be, that someone of Scottish origin, living in England, could owe to the traditions of the Welsh church and indirectly to the saint whose feast we mark today, St David?  Very simply, my journey into Anglo-Catholicism and from there ultimately into the full communion of the Catholic Church included what one might call a detour into a sphere influenced by the history, if not even then the reality, of the Church in Wales. 

Arriving as an undergraduate at Oxford, I found myself at Pusey House on my first Sunday morning (hence Betjeman's Summoned by Bell having made at least one appearance on this blog before).  Despite having attended Mass occasionally with my Catholic grandmother, I had never seen anything quite like the way in which Pusey House's liturgy was presented.  I rather liked it, and kept coming back, week by week, for the next few years. 

What worked so well on someone to whom that tradition was essentially alien, was that there was liturgical dignity and correctness but no fussiness, uncompromising clarity of catholic teaching but no bombast, friendliness and community without cliques and exclusivity.  It just worked.  It offered a way in to something that an outsider could happily take, the "target audience" if you like was the general population of the University of Oxford with an interest in Christianity, there was no sense of Pusey House being only for committed Anglo-Catholics, although of course those who came in the door often emerged as such.

That approach was down to the Principal in those days, Canon Philip Ursell, then as now the Warden of Ascot Priory.  Canon Ursell had studied and trained in both England and Wales, and served as a curate in Canon Freddy Hood's old parish in Porthcawl, before becoming a University Chaplain at Cardiff and then Chaplain at Emmanuel College, Cambridge.

His view was that you could catch the interest of more people if you neither vaunted, but nor indeed hid, some of the more "full throttle" expressions of Anglo-Catholicism, but you let it be known that they were there, and encouraged people to find them in their own time.  For example, the Angelus was said after the Sunday High Mass ended, but only by the clergy and servers in the Blessed Sacrament Chapel : the congregation, listening to the organ voluntary, would be aware only of the sound of distant prayers from the other side of the rood screen. 

Another example : Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament was given only twice a year, once at Corpus Christi (from the rood screen indeed), and once at the end of the academic year, following an outdoor procession through the grounds of Ascot Priory.  By the way, the General Thanksgiving, now so much loved and used by the Ordinariate (including at the recent Solemn Evensong, Procession and Benediction at St James's, and even more recently at St Peter's Basilica in Rome), was the prayer at Benediction on those occasions.

The Sacred Triduum was observed, but at Ascot Priory, and with a guest list made up of those of the congregation who would benefit from that most.  Many a new Anglo-Catholic's first confession was made on such occasions.

This confident strategy was born of the same approach that was behind some of the anecdotes of those days, a confidence in some of the Church in Wales of those days, as in some of the Church of England at that time, that it and no other was the Catholic Church in this land.  The Principal told the story of his first Vicar, who in discussion with a young "spike" was challenged as to why he no longer genuflected during the Et Incarnatus :

"By what authority have you stopped genuflecting, Father?"

"The same authority by which you started genuflecting."

Sitting where we sit now, of course, it seems slightly uncomfortable to acknowledge the anecdotes that "converts" from the Catholic Church might very well have been formally "received" upon their arrival in the Church in Wales or the Church of England in those times.  However, that is merely an outward sign of the genuine and sincere belief (whether we agree with it or not, in the context of then or now) that those bodies represented, at least in "sound parishes", the Catholic Church in this Land.

It's all rather different now, of course.  Reports (such as here on Ancient Briton, and here on All Gas and Gaiters) following the untimely death of the Revd Jeremy Winston make that painfully clear.

Let's not be despondent though.  St David's Day has been the perfect opportunity for the Ordinariate to announce the launching of three Ordinariate Exploration Groups in Wales: Cardiff, Swansea and Abergavenny.  There are signs of hope that this wonderful Anglo-Catholic tradition will find itself a new home in which it will be cherished, valued and nurtured.

I owe a lot to that tradition, and see much of it in the Ordinariate.  We must all give thanks for that Anglican Patrimony which Pope Benedict has invited us to bring with us into the Catholic Church.

To conclude, video footage of the Holy Father's visit to Westminster Cathedral in September 2010.  As he processed out, to the joyous accompaniment of Bruckner's Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, he stopped to pray at the new shrine to St David.  The smiles of the congregation just before he arrives at the shrine are very moving, felicitously occurring at the high point of the fortissimo in the setting of the word Deo as the tenor part soars above the others.



St David, pray for us.

Wonderworker

Readers could be forgiven for expecting that today's blogpost would follow the Hungarian connection of yesterday's post on St Margaret of Scotland by talking of St Elizabeth of Hungary, that noble and pious woman who gave to the poor and adhered to her vows despite many challenges.  St Elizabeth of Hungary's feast day falls today, but she is not the subject of this post.

Since our Ordinariate group was founded on 3 September 2011, the Feast of St Gregory the Great (indeed one of our members took the name Gregory as his chrismation name), and since we have already talked of St Gregory the Illuminator, it seems like a good idea to bring to your attention a saint with surely one of the most exciting appellations around, St Gregory the Wonderworker.

St Gregory the Wonderworker (being the literal translation of St Gregory Thaumaturgus, and also called St Gregory of Neocaesarea) is, as his name suggests, associated with obtaining many miracles through his powers of intercession, even during his lifetime.  There are reports of his obtaining that a lake be dried up, of his holding back a rising tide by placing a staff in the ground, of him and a Deacon hiding from the authorities by taking the shape of trees and of him causing rocks to move.  St Gregory of Nyssa also records that St Gregory the Wonderworker was the first known person to see a vision of the Virgin.

Beyond this though, he is of interest for some rather more everyday things.  Many a bishop, priest and deacon will recognise in St Gregory the Wonderworker the impact that administration and workload have on the time available for clergy to maintain a spiritual life and pursue studies.  Those involved in apologetics, evangelism and catechesis will appreciate his examination of just what it was that made Origen such a convincing converter of the unbelieving - not only sound argument, but strong conviction, sincerity and a powerfully persuasive style (and even the odd outburst of temper). 

The bishops of 3rd Century Asia Minor are of huge importance to anyone studying the phenomenon of the growth of the Church.  Not only were they numerous (a community needed to have only 10 souls in order to be eligible to have its own bishop), but they were hugely influential and succesful.  Their local legacy endures much more obviously to this day than the local legacy of the no less numerous bishops of North Africa of around the same period, of whom Fr Colven spoke so interestingly in a recent homily at St James' Spanish Place.  Of all of these prelates of ancient Asia Minor, St Gregory the Wonderworker stands out on account of the sheer provable historicity of his life and works.  He is better and more fully documented than many before and after him, and his own writings add to the body of evidence of his approach and teachings.

An interesting text from this Pre-Nicene Father is his Declaration of Faith, which does not sound at all unfamiliar to any of us even today.

There is one God, the Father of the living Word, who is His subsistent Wisdom and Power and Eternal Image: perfect Begetter of the perfect Begotten, Father of the only-begotten Son. There is one Lord, Only of the Only, God of God, Image and Likeness of Deity, Efficient Word, Wisdom comprehensive of the constitution of all things, and Power formative of the whole creation, true Son of true Father, Invisible of Invisible, and Incorruptible of Incorruptible, and Immortal of Immortal and Eternal of Eternal. And there is One Holy Spirit, having His subsistence from God, and being made manifest by the Son, to wit to men: Image of the Son, Perfect Image of the Perfect; Life, the Cause of the living; Holy Fount; Sanctity, the Supplier, or Leader, of Sanctification; in whom is manifested God the Father, who is above all and in all, and God the Son, who is through all. There is a perfect Trinity, in glory and eternity and sovereignty, neither divided nor estranged. Wherefore there is nothing either created or in servitude in the Trinity; nor anything superinduced, as if at some former period it was non-existent, and at some later period it was introduced. And thus neither was the Son ever wanting to the Father, nor the Spirit to the Son; but without variation and without change, the same Trinity abideth ever.

The Gradual set for a Mass celebrated on the Feast of St Gregory the Wonderworker is a very well known text indeed, coming from the first reading set for Mass on this day, Ecclesiasticus 44:16. 

Ecce sacerdos magnus qui in diebus suis placuit Deo.  Non est investus similis illi, qui conservaret legem Excelsi.

Behold a great priest, who in his days pleased God.  There was not found the like to him, who kept the law of the Most High.

Which setting of that glorious text to include today (even if the choral settings one might choose are not of entirely the same text)?  This blog has already linked to the awe-inspiring setting by Bruckner, as sung at Westminster Cathedral during the Holy Father's visit in 2010.  Therefore, the obvious choice would seem to be the Elgar, as sung so regularly in our days at St Mary's Bourne St, and as sung at St James's Spanish Place on the occasion of the visit of Papal Nuncio, Archbishop Mennini, on St James's Day this year. 

This is perhaps not the best edition, shall we say, of the Elgar, but the photos are wonderful.



St Gregory the Wonderworker, St Elizabeth of Hungary, pray for us.

Pope Benedict XVI at Westminster Cathedral

The last two days of the Pope Benedict's visit to the United Kingdom in September 2010 included two events that very heavily influenced many of those who have joined the Ordinariate and the wider Catholic Church this year. 

The first of those was the Mass celebrated at Westminster Cathedral exactly one year ago today.  The second, of which more tomorrow, was the Beatification of Blessed John Henry Newman.

The Westminster Cathedral Mass created huge interest and was of huge appeal.  Those who watched it were moved by the solemnity, dignity, reverence and beauty of the liturgy, and by the obvious warmth and rapport between the Holy Father and all those gathered inside and outside.   

For some who have joined the Catholic Church recently, it was an occasion that contained so many things with which we were so familiar, and which we loved: yet we were, in one hugely significant way, cut off from it.  We were not in full communion with the Successor of St Peter: with the open invitation seen in Anglicanorum Coetibus and indeed generally, there seemed to some of us to be less and less justification for deliberately allowing that situation to persist.  And so, from that date onwards, a thought process, which had been begun many times before but never concluded, finally started on its way to what became formal Reception.

One of the permanent video links on the right hand sidebar of this blog is of the Holy Father's procession into the Cathedral at the start of Mass, to the truly stunning accompaniment of James Macmillan's setting of Tu es Petrus.  Please take a look at it now if you haven't before (and perhaps even if have).  To complement this, here is the well known Bruckner setting of Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, as sung by Westminster Cathedral Choir as the Holy Father processed out after Mass, and paused for prayer at the new Shrine of St David.