Two-way Patrimony

Today's Marian feasts falling under the Ordinary Form and Extraordinary Form kalendars give an opportunity for reflection on a couple of hymns that have become Anglican Patrimony, as well as indirectly on an element of Anglican Patrimony that seems to have become more popular in the Church of England than it was.

Before all of that, a pair of images in honour of today's Ordinary Form feast, showing that even when we were Anglicans, the Coronation of Our Lady was very much part of our group's patrimony. First, the famous Velazquez painting of the Coronation of Our Lady by the Trinity, the second the image of the Coronation of Our Lady in Heaven that sits atop the glorious Martin Travers High Altar at St Mary's Bourne Street.

When, Deo volente, we reach September 3rd, the Feast of St Gregory the Great in the modern calendar and of St Pius X in the Extraordinary Form, we shall attain the joy of having been Catholics for a full year.

On Sunday September 2nd at St James's, we hope to mark this by singing as the post-Mass hymn at the 1030 Solemn Latin Mass Though The Streets of Heaven, a hymn written for St Mary's Bourne St (and very rarely sung anywhere else, as far as we know), the Anglican parish from which most of our Ordinariate group came.  The words are by Wilfred Knox (who was mentioned towards the end of our previous post), the music by Louis Parker. 

In the video below, you can hear the last verse and a half of this rare but beautiful hymn being sung upon the occasion of the Annual Dedication Festival of St Mary's Bourne St (we described the background to that service here).  Typical of the 1920s Anglo-Catholicism in which context it was written, it is a hymn to the Virgin in a mixture of English and Latin.  You will note from the video that this very much matches the Bourne St service, where a rite of Benediction is given in Latin, interspersed with English. 

Though the streets of Heaven,

Mary, thou dost tread,

Roses in thy bosom,

Stars about thy head;

Though before thy presence

Angels bow the knee,

Hear the supplication

Sinners make to thee.

Mater creatoris,

Domus aurea,

Mater salvatoris,

Caeli janua:

Meet it is thy praises

Every tongue should sound

Mary over all things

To all ages crowned.

In the heart of heaven
Perfect is thy rest;

Yet thou once didst wander,

Jesus on thy breast;

Poor, and scorned and helpless

Thou thy Son didst tend,

All who toil and suffer,

Mary Maid, befriend.

Mater creatoris...

Though with Christ thou dwellest
Evermore at one,

Yet thou once did seek him,

Sorrowing, thy Son;

Anxious hearts that tremble,

Heavy eyes that wake,

Into thy protection,

Mary, Mother, take.

Mater creatoris...

Midst the heavenly treasures

Happy though thou be,

Call to mind thy vigil

By the bitter Tree;

Mothers sorrow laden,

Widowed brides that weep,

By thy intercession,

Mary, Mother, keep.

Mater creatoris...

When upon our death-beds

Earthly comforts fade,

Mary, let thy presence

Keep us unafraid;

When the books are opened,

And the judgement set,

Mary, be our succour,

Pleading for us yet.

Mater creatoris...

The video contains what might even be an example of reverse Anglican patrimony (let's face it, apart from the use of great Anglican hymn tunes for O Salutaris and Tantum Ergo, there isn't much outwardly Anglican about the shape of the ritual seen in the video), in that the prayer before Tantum Ergo is the Book of Common Prayer's General Thanksgiving.  This is not something I ever recall happening in my Bourne St days, although it was certainly the usual practice in my time at Pusey House in the early 1990s.

Using this prayer during Benediction is something that has become a hallmark of practice in the Ordinariate, including at the Ordinariate's own Anniversary Evensong and Benediction at the beginning of this year.  Since some of our Bourne St friends attended that event, and indeed some of them perhaps read regularly of what is going in the Ordinariate, it is intriguing but definitely very pleasing to see this influence, adding to the Catholic influence that gave rise to the form of service in the first place.  After all, not only are we borrowing a Bourne St hymn and bringing it into the Catholic Church, we as former Anglicans have brought the classic Anglo-Catholic service of Solemn Evensong and Benediction into the Ordinariate, and as you can read in Fr Mark Woodruff's excellent description, what we have brought with us bears no little resemblance to what we had before, as we have already shown in photographic form in this post.

Another hymn that Anglo-Catholics have brought with them into the Ordinariate is the wonderful "Joy to thee, Queen, within thine ancient dowry".  It is a hymn that I have not had a chance to sing since long ago in my Anglican history, but I wonder if perhaps the occasion might arise during the Ordinariate's upcoming pilgrimage to Walsingham on the 15th September.

Here is its stirring tune from youtube, followed by its powerful words "Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been - England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!"

Joy to thee, Queen, within thine ancient dowry -

joy to thee, Queen, for once again thy fame

is noised abroad and spoken of in England

and thy lost children call upon thy name.

Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been -

England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!

In ages past, thy palmer-children sought thee

from near and far, a faith-enlightened throng,

bringing their gems, and gold and silver love-gifts

where tapers gleamed, where all was prayer and song.

Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been -

England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!

Countless the signs and wonders that men told there,

for not in vain did any pilgrim kneel

before thy throne to seek thy intercession

but thou didst bend to listen and to heal.

Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been -

England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!

The Martyrs’ blood, like heavenly seed, is scattered;

the harvest now is ripe for us to reap;

the Faith dishonoured now is held in honour;

O help thine own this precious gift to keep!

Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been -

England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!

Unto thy Son – unto our sweet Redeemer,

Source of our Hope, our Life, our Joy, once more

we bring the love and loyalty of England

and in his Sacrament we him adore.

Ladye of Walsingham, be as thou hast been -

England’s Protectress, our Mother and our Queen!

How wonderful, on this day when we celebrate the Coronation of Our Lady in Heaven, Our Lady as Queen of Heaven (or in the EF calendar, the Immaculate Heart of Mary), that we can talk of two examples of Anglican Patrimony that are hymns to the Virgin. The Bourne St hymn ties in nicely with the theme of the Immaculate Heart, while the Walsingham hymn is perfect for the modern feast, so associated with Pope Pius XII, whom we included on this blog in video format only a few days ago. 

Monsignor Newton on The Future of Ecumenism

A video recording of Mgr Newton's address given at the Church of St Mary Magdalen in Brighton has been in circulation for some time, but it is only now that the quiet days of August allow the members of the Marylebone group to view it and to provide a few personal thoughts on it.

It can come as no surprise that we find ourselves wholeheartedly in agreement with what Mgr Newton says (and no, we are not saying that simply because he is our Ordinary).

To prove that, do please note that we have often referred (for example here and here) on this blog to our sadness that the warnings given by many, including by Cardinal Kaspar in 2006 (to the Church of England's House of Bishops) and in 2008 (to the Lambeth Conference) have not been taken into account.  His 2006 speech called for the Church of England not to erect new impediments to unity.  Cardinal Kaspar's 2008 text included the following as part of his longer address :

We would see the Anglican Communion as moving a considerable distance closer to the side of the Protestant churches of the 16th century, and to a position they adopted only during the second half of the 20th century.

The 1966 Common Declaration signed by Pope Paul VI and Archbishop Michael Ramsey called for a dialogue that would “lead to that unity in truth, for which Christ prayed”, and spoke of “a restoration of complete communion of faith and sacramental life”. It now seems that full visible communion as the aim of our dialogue has receded further, and that our dialogue will have less ultimate goals and therefore will be altered in its character. While such a dialogue could still lead to good results, it would not be sustained by the dynamism which arises from the realistic possibility of the unity Christ asks of us, or the shared partaking of the one Lord’s table, for which we so earnestly long.

The advice of those such as Cardinal Kaspar has been ignored even although senior clergy from the Orthodox Church have addressed leading Anglicans on the same point (certain kinds of Anglicans like to turn a deaf ear to Rome, fondly but vainly imagining that Constantinople or Moscow will say something rather more to their liking).  At a 2010 address to the Nicaea Club at Lambeth Palace, Metropolitan Hilarion, of the Russian Orthodox Church, after recalling the warm history of co-operation between Anglicanism and the Orthodox, and having taken several none-too-subtle swipes at the über-liberal practices of certain parts of the Anglican Communion, went on to comment that the Church of England's approach on certain issues was not conducive to Christian Unity.

We have studied the preparatory documents for the decision on female episcopate and were struck by the conviction expressed in them that even if the female episcopate were introduced, ecumenical contacts with the Roman Catholic and the Orthodox Churches would not come to an end. What made the authors of these documents so certain?

The effect of what is now happening is that the underlying raison d'être for the no doubt friendly and sincere ecumenical dialogue that carries on is fundamentally different from that envisaged by the 1966 Common Declaration.  No longer does even the most Panglossian optimist think that any kind of corporate unity is likely in the lifetime of anyone living today.  The unquestionably warm friendships and contacts at the parish and personal level continue, but the true Unity for which Christ prayed is further away than it was.  The conclusions of ARCIC I and the zenith of hope for reunion that was attained when Blessed John Paul II knelt in prayer beside Archbishop Robert Runcie in Canterbury Cathedral seem so very far distant now.

Well, that's all old ground, you might say.  Cardinal Kaspar and Monsignor Newton have said it all rather better than you, and indeed you have written of this in the past.  All true.  We'll leave it there.
 
However, what we would want to do is to pick up on something else that Monsignor Newton mentioned.  He talked of an address given by the Archbishop of Canterbury to a symposium at the Gregorian University in Rome in 2009, marking the centenary of the birth of Cardinal Willebrands, the first president of the Pontifical Council for the Promotion of Christian Unity.

Dr Williams talked of the many things upon which Catholics and Anglicans agree being first order issues (by which he meant important points), and of those upon which we did not agree being second order issues (by which he meant less significant matters that ought not to get in the way of the bigger points).  He also talked of how the way that the Anglican Communion handles differences might be a potential model for Catholic-Anglican discussions, but we shall make no comment upon that, sticking rather to his differentiation in significance of topics.

When reading of Dr Williams's talk at the time, my reaction to the first order and second order analysis was  that I wanted to apply it rather differently.  If these points really are second order (in an Anglican understanding thereof), why then (of relevance to Anglicans) does General Synod not only spend seemingly all of its time discussing them, but also (of relevance to Catholics too) place such a high value on them that they are allowed to wound shared understandings of first order issues?

Whatever we might think of any of these "second order issues", do any of them really trump the following:

Ut omnes unum sint, sicut tu Pater in me, et ego in te, ut et ipsi in nobis unum sint, ut credat mundus, quia tu me misisti.

That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us; that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.

In this context, Anglicanorum coetibus can indeed be seen very clearly as a practical ecumenical gesture, as Monsignor Newton rightly said.  To Anglo-Catholics who didn't wish their response to the Gospel call to Unity to be subject to second order issues, it was indeed the perfect ecumenical gesture.

Let us conclude with two musical settings of the words of Psalm 132 (or Psalm 133, depending on which counting system you follow....).  The first version is very definitely Anglican Patrimony, it is Anglican chant sung by the choir of King's College, Cambridge.  The second is a setting that has featured previously on this blog, written by Fernando de las Infantas in 1570 to commemorate the founding the Holy League, the alliance of Catholic Nations that in 1571, under Don John of Austria, would emerge victorious from the Battle of Lepanto, as Fr Hunwicke evoked so clearly for us at St Mary's Bourne St in 2010.

Ecce quam bonum et quam iucundum, habitare fratres in unum.  Sicut unguentum in capite, quod descendit in barbam, barbam Aaron.  Quod descendit in oram vestimenti eius, sicut ros Hermon, qui descendit in montem Sion.  Quoniam illic mandavit Dominus benedictionem, et vitam usque in saeculum.

Behold how good and joyful a thing it is, brethren, to dwell together in unity.  It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down unto the beard, even unto Aaron's beard.  And went down to the skirts of his clothing, like as the dew of Hermon, which fell upon the hill of Sion.  For there the Lord promised his blessing and life for evermore.

Another Joins from Bourne Street

We are pleased to welcome another former member of the Bourne St congregation into the full communion of the Catholic Church.  Having been baptised by the previous Vicar of St Mary's, the lady in question found her own way to St James's, and it was Fr Colven's excellent initiative to ask one of our members to be her Sponsor at her Reception.

Welcome, Agnes.  Please be assured of our prayers for you.

From this week's parish notes at St James's:

We give thanks to God for the reception into the full communion of the Church of Agnes Duffield during this past week. Agnes was formerly a member of the Anglican congregation at St Mary’s Bourne Street, Pimlico - a parish which has offered us a whole raft of new Catholics in the past year. We are grateful for these signs of enrichment to the mix which is Spanish Place.

A raft indeed.  To turn the use of that word, how pleased we are to have been on the raft that took us to join the Barque of Peter.

We are also delighted to report that Rupert Brennan Brown, who left St Mary's a few years ago to become a Catholic, has recently signed up as a member of the Ordinariate, attached to the Marylebone Group.  Rupert's first event with us was last week's spectacular St James's day Mass, celebrated by the Abbot of Farnborough, and in the presence of the Spanish ambassador....more of which in an imminent post.

Yes, how true: a raft indeed.

A Wider Fellowship and Communion

The weekend before last, some of our Ordinariate group had the great pleasure to attend a wedding at St Mary's, Bourne St, the Anglican parish that for so long had been our home.  Here is a picture of two of our group waiting in that familiar place.

It was a joy to see so many old friends again, and to be surrounded by faces previously seen frequently but now only rarely.  Most of all, it was a delight and a privilege to share in the happy couple's big day, and we take this opportunity to assure them of our prayers for a long and happy life together.

It would not be appropriate to include any photos giving away too much of what was not our event, but we think we can just about get away with the picture above, which is of Marylebone Ordinariate Group members, and also this rather striking picture below, surely worthy of a caption competition.  In it, you see a former Head Server of St Mary's, now an Orthodox religious; key members of the current St Mary's serving team (the Vicar acted as the only server at this BCP Solemnization of Holy Matrimony), and a member of the regular St Mary's congregation, dressed in a very stylish morning coat.  Pictures do indeed speak a thousand words.

Most of us had been back to St Mary's at least once for one function or another since our departure, but this particular return took place almost exactly a year to the day since the weekend when we attended our final services as Anglicans.  As we explained in this earlier post, the anniversary of the dedication of St Mary's is held on the first Sunday of July, commemorating the day in 1874 when this small brick mission chapel behind Sloane Square was formally opened.  Forgive the digression, but I have long loved this extract from the Church Times reporting that on 2 July 1874 :

...being the festival of the Visitation of the BVM, a mission chapel in Graham Street, Pimlico, a portion of the parish of St Paul's Knightsbridge, far distant from the church in Wilton Place, was opened for service under the licence of the Bishop of London. The service at eleven o'clock was well attended by people from the neighbourhood, and we were glad to notice a good sprinkling of poor women. Mr Eyton, the Curate-in-Charge, was the celebrant, and an unconscionably long sermon was preached by Mr Knox-Little [curate of St Thomas, Regent Street], which, considering the broiling weather, was little better than cruelty.

Still today, that weekend built around the first Sunday of July involves a series of events at Bourne St.  Saturday's worship takes the shape of a Requiem Mass, and the set piece Sunday service includes not only the usual spectacular fare but also a Marian procession around the parish and a rite of Benediction.

The Saturday event was originally to have been our last service, it being agreed that a Founders' and Benefactors' Requiem was the perfect opportunity to give thanks for and to pray for the souls of those who played their part in creating the St Mary's that had been an important part of lives.  The ashes of a previous Vicar, the much loved John Gilling, who directly and indirectly had been the cause of the arrival of two of our group at Bourne St in the first place, were to be placed in the church's Colombarium at the end of proceedings, and so it really did seem the right day to say our goodbyes.

The Vicar had very kindly asked if we would like a visiting preacher on the Saturday, perhaps someone well known to us who had been important in our lives as Anglo-Catholics.  Our instinctive response was to ask for Fr William Davage, then Custodian of the Library at Pusey House.  The invitation was issued and accepted, and how right we were to have asked for him.  He preached an excellent sermon on how protestantism had played a very large role in making death something awkward and not talked about, turning it into the ultimate English social faux pas.  However, towards the end, he included an extra paragraph, which while it did not deviate from his theme, worked into the discourse some references to our imminent departure.

All Masses of Requiem, all masses, said or sung, offered pro defunctis, are bittersweet occasions. Because we are human, they taste of the bitter herbs of loss, they speak of longing and yearning, of tears and sorrow at the parting of friends, the loss of their regular society, the dislocation of familiar ties of friendship, the inevitable rupture of relationships. Yet in the Requiem Mass is the sweet savour and consolation of Our Lord’s Resurrection from the dead that promises us gain not loss, consummation and fulfillment, joy and eternal felicity, the reunion and reconciliation of friends in a new and greater social harmony, in a wider fellowship and communion, the restoration of relationships. It is the new Jerusalem to which this church is only a gateway: and if this is but a gateway, think how wonderful must be the House of God, the new Jerusalem to which we are bound: "Jerusalem the golden … What social joys are there, what radiancy of glory, what light beyond compare."

We have now been through that parting of friends, and yet although we miss the loss of the regular society of so many friends, it is indeed Loss but also Gain, for now we most certainly do find ourselves in a wider fellowship and communion.  We must always give thanks for what St Mary's was to us, for it was indeed a gateway into a wider communion, and for us most definitely fulfilled the promise of the reputation in which it had so long rejoiced, of being a "bridge between Canterbury and Rome".

After the Saturday service, the PCC very kindly threw us a party, short but friendly speeches were given, fond words of farewell spoken, and then we all moved on.  We returned the next day, as there had been some talk of a formal farewell during the service, but to everyone's relief, this plan was abandoned.  As the congregation left to process around the parish, we donned our serving cassocks one last time, cleared the altar, set it up for Benediction, and slipped out quietly and unobtrusively into our new lives.  You can see below the results of our final setting up of the Martin Travers baroque masterpiece.

This blog contains frequent fond references to our past at St Mary's and to our friends there.  This is only right, it is precisely the history and tradition of that church that brought us to where we are now.  We most certainly neither regret nor deny our past, quite the opposite, and no-one has ever asked us to do so.  Yet the references carry a small risk of misinterpretation, one that cropped up recently.

I know that the person who asked this question will not mind if I report it (on a no-names basis, of course: discretion is my middle name).  Amid the joys of that happy wedding day, we were asked if we did not miss St Mary's, if we did not regret our decision.  The answer is that although we miss our old friends, we do not regret our decision : we are sure that, given our understanding of what Anglo-Catholicism was and is, we have done the right thing.

In his sermon at the Ordinariate Anniversary Evensong and Benediction in January, Monsignor Newton cited Blessed John Henry Newman's response to Cardinal Bourne's father, who had written to him following rumours that Newman was unhappy with having becoming a Catholic.

I can only say, if it is necessary to say it, that from the moment I became a Catholic, I have never had, through God’s grace, a single doubt or misgiving on my mind that I did wrong in becoming one. I have not had any feeling whatever but one of joy and gratitude that God called me out of an insecure state into one which is sure and safe, out of the war of tongues and into the realm of peace and assurance. This is my state of mind, and I would it could be brought home to all and every one, who, in default of real arguments for remaining Anglicans, amuse themselves with dreams and fancies.

There is a lot more that Newman had to say on precisely this, some of which you will find below.  One could spin this negatively and say that he had to say so much because Anglican detractors were keen to sow seeds of doubt amongst those who might have followed Newman (I leave aside the rather ludicrous argument that he said so much about being happy as a Catholic in order to hide some deep regret at leaving Anglicanism).  Being more constructive, and I would argue being far more of relevance to the situation in which some find themselves today, one can say that he had to express his happiness so often because those who have not yet made the move fear,  mistakenly if understandably, that it is a huge and difficult step.  In this approach, we take heart from Monsignor Jamieson's encouragement that Catholics define themselves as a positive people, being "for" things, whereas antitheists (defining themselves as being against God, or the idea of God) and protestants (defining themselves as being against Catholicism and/or Catholic teaching) do not share that joy of hope and optimism.

Of course, seen from this side of the Tiber, all we can say is that looking back, the step seems miniscule.  It seems utterly logical, totally inevitable, unquestionably right.  The things we thought we might find difficult quite simply have not been.   If this blog ever gives the impression of regret, then it is of regret at not seeing so many friends as often as we used to, but not in any way the slightest of regrets at our decision to become Catholics.

In the Church Times extract above, a certain Mr Knox-Little is mentioned.  Shortly after Newman's death in 1890, the Tablet carried an article called "The Outline" by Dr W Barry, which also mentions this rather distinctive name.  Dr Barry made a rather important point rather well, correcting a misunderstanding that continues from Mr Knox-Little's time to the present.

Beautiful were the tributes which Newman's death elicited from the conspicuous pulpits of Anglicanism, and most affecting to Catholics; but some of the preachers strangely misunderstood their man when they hinted, as Canon Knox-Little did, that Newman would never have left Anglicanism in 1845, had he foreseen how many Roman collars would be worn, how many beards be shaved off, how many "celebrations" be talked about, and confessions heard in the Establishment in 1890. Why, the Arians in their day had Bishops, and Masses, and organisation as perfect us that of the orthodox; but it was with Athanasius, that Newman ranged himself while still an Anglican, and it was precisely the parallel he found between Anglicans and Arians, or Donatists, that brought him at last from Oxford to Birmingham.

It was, in truth, to the Canon Knox-Littles that he addressed himself when he said: "Look into the matter more steadily; it is very pleasant to decorate your chapels, oratories, and studies now, but you cannot be doing this for ever. It is pleasant to adopt a habit or a vestment; to use your office-book or your beads; but it is like feeding on flowers, unless you have that objective vision in your faith, and that satisfaction in your reason, of which devotional exercises and ecclesiastical appointment are the suitable expression. They will not last in the long run, unless commanded and rewarded on Divine authority; they cannot be made to rest on the influence of individuals. It is well to have rich architecture, curious works of art, and splendid vestments, when you have a present God; but, oh! what a mockery if you have not. If your externals surpass what is within, you are so far as hollow as your Evangelical opponents, who baptise, yet expect no grace. Thus your Church becomes not a home, but a sepulchre; like those high cathedrals once Catholic, which you not know what to do with, which you shut up, and make monuments of, sacred to the memory of what has passed away."

Just as today, many did not see the need for Newman to have done what he did.  At the risk of being ever so slightly flippant, the Knox-Little line was that if only Newman had known that he could have decorated his church in a more attractive manner, he might not have gone to Rome, and must surely regret that he did.  Turning that argument around on itself demonstrates that its basis is insulting even to the highest of high anglo-catholicism, suggesting that if the Church of England deprived the modern day Knox-Littles of their lace, they might then have to become Catholics.  Insulting as it is, as illogical as it is, it has a certain endurance in the complaints of some even now : "Why did you need to do that?  It's awfully nice here."

Newman went further, and stated clearly in the Apologia what was so evidently true (and doesn't the last sentence just ring a few bells even today?):

I have not had one moment's wavering of trust in the Catholic Church ever since I was received into her fold. I hold, and ever have held, a supreme satisfaction in her worship, discipline, and teaching; and an eager longing, and a hope against hope, that the many dear friends whom I have left in Protestantism may be partakers in my happiness. And I do hereby profess that Protestantism is the dreariest of possible religions; that the thought of the Anglican service makes me shiver, and the thought of the Thirty-nine Articles makes me shudder. Return to the Church of England! No! "The net is broken, and we are delivered." I should be a consummate fool (to use a mild term) if, in my old age I left "the land flowing with milk and honey" for the city of confusion and the house of bondage.

A process that Newman began, and which with each twist and turn of synodical voting comes to our minds again, is the reminding the people of these islands that the claim of Rome is that it brings the teachings of Christianity with it, that it is the Church that safeguards and presents the Truth.  Dr Barry's Outlook again :

One thing he did, with such triumphant success that it need not be done again. He showed that the question of Rome is the question of Christianity. Taking Bishop Butler's great work for his foundation, he applied to the Catholic Church that "Analogy" which had proved in the Bishop's hands an irrefragable argument. As, if we hold the course of Nature to be in accordance with reason, we cannot but allow that natural and revealed religion, proceeding as they do on similar laws and by like methods, are founded on reasons too—so, if once we admit that in the Bible there is a revelation from on high, we must come down by sure steps to Rome and the Papacy as inheriting what the Bible contains. To demonstrate this was to make an end of the Reformation, so far as it claimed authority from Scripture or kindred with Christ and His Apostles. When John Henry Newman arrived at that conclusion and followed it up by submitting to Rome, he undid, intellectually speaking, the mischief of the last three centuries. And he planted in the mind of his countrymen a suspicion which every day seems ripening towards certitude, that if they wish to remain Christians they must go back to the rock from which they were hewn, and become once again the sheep of the Apostolic Shepherd. Cardinal Newman has done this great thing; and its achievement will be his lasting memorial.

If today's lengthy blogpost has included rather starker words than usual (hardly: look at here, here and here, but let us account for all readers), we would not want to leave anyone with the impression that we have no fondness or love for the Church of England, and for the part it played in our lives.  This sentiment is not to be confused with any kind of regret, but in no way do we look back in anger or bitterness.  Newman felt the same way, notwithstanding all that is in the quotations above.  His friend and fellow convert Fr William Lockhart, who left Newman's Littlemore community to join the Catholic Church before Newman did, after having perceived that Newman himself had doubts about his membership of the Church of England (even his ability to absolve after confession), said this :

We left the Church of England with grief. All the good we knew, we had learned there; we had been led step by step by God's grace, but we left, because we could not close our eyes to the fact that the Church of England was no part of a Visible Church; rather than separate from which Sir Thomas More, Bishop Fisher, and hundreds of others have laid down their lives in martyrdom.

A word of warning in conclusion.  One of our most read posts is This is the Appropriate Moment, in which those thinking of entering the Catholic Church are encouraged to do so without delay.  The Dublin Review of October 1890 includes the following text, referring to an 1871 correspondence in which Newman made perfectly clear his acceptance of what he believed to be his vocation to become a Catholic, and of the importance he attached to having done so promptly.

"As to your question," he wrote to a lady correspondent, "whether if I had stayed in the Anglican Church till now, I should have joined the Catholic Church at all, at any time now or hereafter, I think that most probably I should not; but observe, for this reason, because God gives grace, and if it is not accepted He withdraws His grace; and since of His free mercy, and from no merits of mine, He then offered me the grace of conversion, if I had not acted upon it, it was to be expected that I should be left, a worthless stump, to cumber the ground, and to remain where I was till I died."

The appropriate moment is indeed now.  Let the act of Blessed John Henry Newman, in following the Divine Will and coming into the full communion of the Catholic Church, inspire others to do so in his footsteps, and may he intercede for all those currently contemplating the same.

Contrasting Definitions

Time, indeed like an ever rolling stream, has appeared to go quickly since we became Catholics.  A year ago, we were in our final month at Bourne St, preparing to leave the Church of England and our status as Anglicans.  We were embarking upon a eucharistic fast that was to last several months, in preparation for our eventual reception into the Catholic Church in early September.  It was appropriate that one of the last services we attended as Anglicans was the Bourne Street Corpus Christi devotion, in which we could give thanks for all the grace that had been poured out upon us in our time there.  Bourne Street always marks the Sunday following Corpus Christi with the grandest of services, greenery and herbs strewn on the floor during a procession, and of course some very fine music.  We wish our friends there well for their celebrations tonight. 

At St James's we mark Corpus Christi today with a Procession of the Blessed Sacrament after Mass.  We look forward to welcoming Fr Christopher Pearson of the Ordinariate as guest preacher.

That Bourne Street service last year was the final occasion upon which I served as an Anglican, acting as MC at a service of Evensong, Procession and Benediction.  How apt that the first time that I should serve at the altar as a Catholic should also be for the same form of service and in the same capacity.  Below you will see a couple of pictures of the Catholic service at which I served, the Ordinariate Anniversary at St James's, followed by a couple of pictures from Bourne St. 

You will see why we for us the progression seems entirely natural and normal.  Very much a continuation of the same, but crucially, now in communion with the Successor of St Peter.  A couple of pictures from the Bourne St archive now follow, giving a further indication of the reverence with which Corpus Christi has been treated in Anglo-Catholicism.  The first picture is from 2011, the second from c1995.

Our memories of those happy days have not flown, forgotten as a dream, but are very much fresh (all these Isaac Watts quotations were not intended to link with the mention of St Anne in our previous post, but do so quite nicely).  While in many ways so much has happened over this year, some of which has been recounted on this blog, in other ways we consider that what has happened was nothing more than the natural outcome for us, given the way we had understood Anglo-Catholicism.  There was a predictability, perhaps even in some ways an inevitability about what has happened, even if not about the way it has been allowed to happen, through the graciousness of Anglicanorum coetibus. 

Now, more than ever, it has become very clear that there was no one definition of what people understood by Anglo-Catholicism.  There had always been a wide range of sub-groups, that themselves could either be virtually entirely in line with the teachings of the Catholic Church, or in reality quite far from them in some important ways.  High Church Anglicanism and Anglo-Papalism are but two of the most long-established terms, but even there the difference is clear.

Over the past 20-30 years, the picture has become even more confused.  Movements such as Affirming Catholicism have sprung up, which happily absorb much of the liturgical and sartorial practice of the Catholic Church, while adopting an approach to moral teaching that is not based on the Catechism but on what people feel - quite genuinely - to be right and good.  It's the same old debate about there being a Truth that has been revealed, and is interpreted afresh in each generation, or there being an ongoing series of revelations in which the Truth today is not the same as the Truth yesterday (and indeed even today there can be multiple Truths, some of which can contradict each other).  We touched on this topic in this recent and widely-read post.  Anglo-Catholics of a more traditional outlook were sometimes prone to using the odd slightly unkind nickname for Affirming Catholics, the more printable of which include AffCaths and indeed De-Caffs.  However, the same naughtiness was shown in return, with Forward in Faith and its quasi-predecessor Cost of Conscience having been unkindly labelled Backwards in Bitterness and Price of Prejudice respectively.

That debate continues with Anglo-Catholicism.  With the departure of many to the Ordinariate, and the seeming acceptance of the changes likely to emerge from this summer's General Synod, the overall theme of Anglo-Catholicism seems to be shifting.  The debates on the approach to moral teaching will remain, but there now seems to be a view that the primary object of Anglo-Catholicism is not [to act]..in defence of Catholic Truth and...[to labour for]...the Reunion of Christendom, (as the words on the memorial to Lord Halifax say, see the photo in this post) but rather to be one of a number of contrasting strands of Christianity that should co-exist within the Church of England, even if the teachings of those strands are in some very signficant ways utterly incompatible.  The new Anglo-Catholicism now seems to be moving towards saying that if corporate reunion with the Roman Church were to come along, that would be lovely, but only if Rome moves on a number of significant matters, because Rome cannot expect to dictate to the Church of England the terms on which any such corporate reunion would take place. 

Perhaps this was obviously going to be the case.    The people who felt more of a draw to Rome and the Catholic Church have left or are very seriously considering leaving: yet this is not a new trend.  Yes, there have the departures since the 1990s, and indeed since the Ordinariate, but ever since Anglo-Catholicism began (in the sense we understand it arising from the Oxford Movement), there has always been a steady flow over the Tiber, even before the moment that Blessed John Henry Newman concluded that his eloquent and impressive arguments about the catholic nature of the Church of England, written while still an Anglican, did not stand up to the reality of the day (see here for details of where Newman drew his line in the sand, it being, to mix metaphors, a final straw at the end of a long process).

Newman's Tract 90, in which he argued that the 39 Articles of the Book of Common Prayer were not an attack on Catholic theology but rather an attempt to limit excesses, caused a great stir.  In response to protests from (Anglican clerics who were) senior in the University of Oxford (including Archibald Campbell Tait, mentioned so prominently in our most popular ever post) the Anglican Bishop of Oxford requested that there not be a Tract 91, and neither there was.  Tract 90 was published in 1841, just before Newman's withdrawal to Littlemore in 1842, from where he was received into the Catholic Church by Blessed Dominic Barbieri in October 1845.

Anglo-Catholics still cite Tract 90 today in defence of the great Anglo-Catholic vision of old, but given what is happening around them, one wonders if they can really continue to do so for much longer, at least in respect of the Church of England as it is today.  The drive of the Tracts for the Times, particularly Tract 90, was to show the Church of England as ecclesiastically catholic rather than protestant, ie that it was in tune with the teachings of the Catholic Faith.  As we mentioned a week or two ago, Geoffrey Fisher, a recent Archbishop of Canterbury summed this view up in the following way, just after the second world war.

The Church of England has no doctrine of its own, save that of the one Holy, Catholic, Apostolic Church.

When we quoted this recently, a comment on that blogpost was picked up upon by the excellent Let Nothing You Dismay blog.  There, the author pointed out

Although the idea of a synodical structure which would allow the laity, clergy and episcopate an opportunity to deliberate together on the issues facing the contemporary Church is (in theory) a laudable one, it has proved disastrous in practice. And this has been, not only because of the adoption of a quasi-parliamentary 'democratic model which has given the politicisation of church life a focus and an official platform, but because within Anglicanism there is no consensus as to what constitutes the authentic tradition.

Archbishop Fisher's comments about the Church of England having no doctrine which is not that of the catholic church are often seized upon by people like me, but the truth is that, however authoritatively they were expressed, they remain just the views of one Archbishop of Canterbury among many; they may have been an accurate snapshot of the consensus at the time within the Church, but are they any more than that? It's instructive that his comment was made just before the then established consensus (perhaps the high water mark of Tractarian influence within Anglicanism, going far beyond those who would identify themselves as 'Catholics') was about to fall apart.

As usual, the LNYD blog is spot on.  You cannot argue for the catholicity of the Church of England now (I make no comment about the past, nor do I make any comment about orders, which is an entirely different point) without addressing the issue of the change of direction.  You cannot logically argue using Tract 90 without volunteering to write a Tract 91, arguing the impossible, that everything that is now happening in the Church of England will not change the catholic vs protestant analysis that so obsessed the Tractarians who gave rise to what we call Anglo-Catholicism.

So in the CofE for those Anglo-Catholics who stay, change is required.  You can see this even from the wording of the statement issued by the Forward in Faith bishops last week. 

.....we must say something about diversity. At the heart of our theological tradition is an acceptance that the Church of England is enriched by the range of viewpoints within its spectrum. We are committed to the recognition of this diversity and to the liberty that protects it. Of course, the defence of liberty is one of the functions of justice and law, of which the monarch is guardian and symbol.

Really?  Diversity, with mutually incompatible theologies, is that a good thing?   Of course, this phenomenon is not new in the Church of England, but it has not always been seen as a strength of Anglicanism.  It seems there is no longer the attempt to catholicise or re-catholicise the Church of England, but that diversity of opinion,  Anglo-Catholic (of whatever hue) and protestant is good.  Well, here we come back to what we think we mean by saying "the Church", or even "the Catholic Church".  

The Forward in Faith bishops go on to say:

.....our search for unity will commit us to continuing engagement with the ARCIC process and dialogue with the Orthodox Churches.

So there you have it.  Anglicanorum coetibus is not on the agenda, the outcome of July's General Synod is irrelevant.  Christian Unity for the Forward in Faith bishops is the ARCIC process and the Orthodox (who, as we have noted before, do not think in the least bit favourably of the current Anglican changes).  That means it is not a high priority for them.  In the words of the Anglican Archbishop of New Zealand after the end of the recent ARCIC talks in Hong Kong:

There seem to be many obstacles from a human point of view, and it does not seem likely to have fully visible unity in the near future

Diversity constituted by incompatible theologies, and what risks appearing as institutional loyalty (however much any of us love our view of what the CofE is or has been) at the expense of a clear impetus towards unity, those are not goals for which any of us in the Marylebone group could have ignored this gracious call to Unity issued by Pope Benedict.

For us, it is sad to note this seemingly different approach.  However, we must acknowledge that it is only sad because it relates to our vision of what Anglo-Catholicism was all about.  We had always seen the Church of England as being part of the Church, but being in impaired communion, we had viewed the Catholic Church as being the rock from which....[the Church of England was]...hewn, we had seen ourselves as being separated by accident of history.  We had never seen the Church of England as a standalone entity in which we could seek to maintain a strand of catholicism.

So while it may all be rather sad for us, the changes may be positive and welcome for others.  The word Anglo-Catholicism has never meant just one thing, and the Anglo-Catholic movement has never had one single goal upon which all its adherents agreed.

Let us move back to Corpus Christi. Here are two contrasting pieces of music to prepare us for today.  First, some Tallis, and then another appearance from Frank Patterson.

The Incarnation is not only for Christmas

The Feast of the Visitation has been, historically, a slightly odd one for those who have had an association with St Mary's Bourne St.  The month of May was never seen out with any great festivity, which you would at first think was unusual for a church in the highest of Anglo-Catholic traditions, dedicated to Our Lady, indeed thus dedicated on the Feast of the Visitation in 1874.  In fact there is a very good explanation.

Unlike so many of the apparently unusual traditions of individual parishes around the world, there was no secret behind this, there had been no loss of the rationale for this seemingly strange omission (although it must be admitted that the number of people "in the know" is not high).  The church was dedicated on the Feast of the Visitation according to the pre-1969 calendar, when this fell on 2 July, hence it always seemed slightly superfluous to hold another grand service on the 31 May.  Therefore, it had been practice since shortly after the calendar changes to observe the Visitation in a slightly low key way, given the bonanza to follow later in the year. 

Indeed, even although our friends at Bourne St now do mark the Visitation on 31 May in more style than in our time (and, on that note, we take the opportunity to wish the vicar a very happy birthday), the first weekend in July is still a time of great festivities there: founders and benefactors are commemorated on the Saturday, and a great procession around the parish accompanies the usual Sunday morning rituals. 

Whether the day is marked today and/or according to an older calendar, it is indeed a cause for great joy. Even if circumstances mean that we no longer agree on everything and are sadly no longer in communion, we have no difficulty at all in saying that our friends at Bourne St will be entirely right to include a Marian procession through the streets in their plans for early July.   The day should be marked with celebration and happiness.

Indeed, the first weekend of July holds a particular significance for us, as it was the occasion of our own parting of friends last year.....but we will say much more on that in around a month.

All that ecumenical introduction serves as explanatory background to the fact that we are not yet used to marking the Visitation at the end of May.  In this instance, we cannot attribute the lack of familiarity to strange Catholic practices, nor to clinging on to Anglican habits: the root cause lies in the parochial traditions of our former home.

The Visitation is a time of great rejoicing, commemorating not only the joyful leap of St John the Baptist in his mother's womb, but also the incarnation itself.  It is very easy to make the mistake of thinking that we celebrate the incarnation at Midnight Mass, and that that's enough : we do indeed celebrate the incarnation then, but the incarnation is not only about a signficant date of birth, but as the greatest of acts (all the more so for being an act of humbling abasement), it is rightly marked through the Annunciation, through the Visitation and all throughout the Church's year.

Without the incarnation there would have been no Holy Week and Easter, indeed even Pentecost, which we marked last week, would have been rather different.  The incarnation is a wonder that affects every day in the calendar, pre or post 1969, and it is absolutely correct to give thanks for it at all times.   

I mentioned above the celebrations of the Visitation in July (even if technically the event is now a commemoration of the anniversary of the dedication of a church).  Well, to make my point about the need to mark the incarnation throughout the year, I want to (appear to) be even more unseasonal and include Betjeman's well-known poem Christmas, another example of Anglican Patrimony.  The poem talks about all the ways in which Christmas is celebrated, and the things that people fixate upon, and concludes by noting that really what counts is miraculous yet rather simple.  The same can be said at any time of year, there is this single Truth that underpins so much of the Truth that the Church is blessed to proclaim.

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

The Gospels all flow from that single Truth, and we do well at all times and in all places to ensure that we ponder it in our hearts all year round, not just when the London shops are strung with silver bells and flowers.

The Visitation is a timely feast in its current position because it gives us one more chance to honour Our Lady in this her special month of May - not, of course, that we should desist from honouring her outside of May.  Time then for two pieces of music.  The first, a piece of Anglican Patrimony, the Magnificat, today's song, as set by Stanford in his Evening Service in C, and as sung at the Ordinariate's first anniversary celebrations at St James's in January this year.  The second: I just couldn't resist one last outing this year for Frank Patterson and Bring Flowers of the Rarest, a true May hymn. 

Tomorrow, our devotions turn towards the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the burning love of the incarnate one.  For tonight though, let us rejoice with Our Lady, and give thanks for her role in the incarnation.

Clarifying the Clarifications

First of all, before moving to topic of this post, a word of congratulations to all the new deacons ordained for the Ordinariate this morning at Westminster Cathedral.  A photo of the new deacons, taken from the Ordinariate's Facebook page, is included below.  Oh yes, and it is indeed new Deacon John Hunwicke that you can see alongside his fellow new deacons in this photo.

Our post on the statement issued by the Church of England's House of Bishops earlier this week attracted a lot of readers, and some very interesting, informed and courteously made comments.  Do have a look if you haven't already done so, you can find it all here.

As a short postcript, we draw our readers' attention to a statement issued last night by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Archbishop of York.  You can find the full text here, but we set out below a few extracts and comments.

In summary, the clarificatory statement confirms the way we had understood the statement from the House of Bishops.   You see, there's proof for all you doubters about whether Anglican Patrimony exists, we are still capable of deciphering the dense language that emerges from Lambeth Palace and Church House.
 
In the comments on our article Missing the Point, we said that the clarification about what delegation meant and where the replacement bishop's episcopal status came from did not change anything, it was merely a statement of fact.  A helpful one, but still a clarification only, bringing about no change.  York and Canterbury said :

To take the simpler ...[amendment]...first: we decided to make no change to the provision in the Draft Measure by virtue of which the arrangements made by diocesan bishops under diocesan schemes for the exercise of ministry by a male bishop take effect, as a matter of law, by way of 'delegation. But we believed that it would help to spell out what is and isn't meant by the 'delegation' of the power to perform acts of episcopal ministry. Bishops are bishops because they are ordained in the name of the whole Church; but they are enabled to act as bishops in this or that particular area in virtue of various legal provisions. For those who are not diocesan bishops, this means that a diocesan gives them the legal authority to act as bishops - as pastors and teachers and people responsible for other ordained ministers.
'Delegation' describes the giving of that authority. It does not take anything away from the diocesan bishop who delegates; it just allows another bishop to minister legally in the diocesan's area of oversight. The amendment simply declares what the law and practice of the Church already is, and what we mean by delegation in other contexts.

So, the clarification of the clarification of the first proposed amendment is clear: nothing has changed (no disrespect intended, but isn't that a classic example of the typical Anglican model of governance).  There is no additional comfort provided to Anglo-Catholics, and there should be no implication of "taint" assumed by proponents of the ordination of women to the Anglican episcopate.
 
The clarification of second proposed amendment is also pretty clear.  A replacement bishop supplied by a diocesan bishop must be male and must share the views of the parish on the issue of the ordination of women.  There is no right for a parish to choose who the replacement bishop will be.  Therefore, despite the ongoing role (even if no longer in PEV status) of Ebbsfleet, Richborough and Beverly, a diocesan bishop need not call them in, but can call in a more establishment or mainstream figure, such as a nearby suffragan or retired anglican bishop (I don't mean to be rude there, it is no insult to anyone I hope, but I think what I mean is clear).

The earlier draft of the Measure already allowed parishes to request the diocesan to provide a male bishop to minister to them if their theological convictions were such as to make it impossible in conscience to receive a woman's ministry in this role. For this to operate effectively, a diocesan would obviously have to do what could be done to find a bishop who could work constructively with such a parish.

The amendment requires the Code of Practice which the bishops will draw up to offer guidance as to how this might be achieved. This was already something the bishops and the Synod would have been able to include in the Code. The change is that they will now have to include such guidance. It does not give parishes the right to 'choose their own bishop' or insist that their bishop has a particular set of beliefs. It allows them to ask for episcopal ministry, as spelled out in Clause 2 of the Measure, only on the grounds of theological conviction about women's ordained ministry. The precise wording in the Code remains something for the Bishops and Synod to determine but it attempts to take seriously the fact that, as has been clear all along, simply providing any male bishop would not do justice to the theological convictions lying behind requests from some parishes.

One can understand why Canterbury and York issued this clarification.  There had been a lot of comment, some of it very excited indeed.  I'm sure we have all read of the sadly infamous article commented upon at Let Nothing You Dismay.

As our comments on the Missing the Point blogpost suggested, we think that if for whatever reason, the legislation is not passed in the summer (without commenting on whether, from a personal perspective, any of us would wish that it should or should not be), then the negative fall out could be significant.  This will most especially be the case if the "pro" camp doesn't vote the legislation through.  The "pro" camp, the media and politicians will thereafter exert massive pressure on the new Archbishop of Canterbury to ensure the swiftest and clearest possible solution to what they will simplistically and erroneously - but successfully and convincingly - describe as a sacrifice by supporters of the ordination of women, made necessary by the bishops being too nice to meanie traditionalists. 

After all, who knows what the approach of the new Archbishop of Canterbury might be.  It seems unlikely that he will be as understanding as Rowan Williams has been.  The make up of the selection committee cannot, we suppose, offer much comfort to Anglo-Catholics. 

We have focused too much on developments in the CofE recently, even if given our history it is inevitable that we should.  One more mention then of the Ordination at Westminster Cathedral today, on which we will provide a report in a subsequent post.  Our prayers for all the candidates ordained deacon this morning.  Thanks be to Almighty God for sending so many good and holy men to serve in his Church.

H/T to the Once I Was a Clever Boy blog for this beautiful 15th century Catalan painting of the ordination of St Vincent to the diaconate by Bishop St Valerius.

A word also about the feast of St Philip Neri, Father of Oratorians.  His feast is being kept in the greatest style at the London Oratory today, led by HE Cardinal Burke.  We ask the prayers of St Philip Neri, and also offer our prayers, for that wonderful church, led of course by its new Provost, who like us is a former regular at St Mary's Bourne St, and with many former members of the Bourne St congregation in its pews.    Our fellow Catholics at the Oratory had the Theresienmesse as the setting of the Ordinary of their Solemn Pontifical Mass this morning.  Here is the Gloria, followed by a couple of photos taken by Eoghain Murphy of proceedings in Brompton this morning. 

Unexpected Anglican Patrimony

A tremendous amount of time has been spent discussing Anglican Patrimony and what it might mean.   This blog has participated in that debate, for example in this blogpost and in a follow up to it here. 

One particular feature of the Ordinariate Chrism Mass celebrated earlier this week reminded members of the Marylebone Ordinariate Group of something in their Anglican past that you might think would be very hard to fit into the category of Anglican Patrimony. 

The deacons, James Bradley and Daniel Lloyd, who are both to be ordained priest at St Patrick's, Soho later this month, wore what looked like apparelled amices.  There is no reason why readers should know what these are, so if you don't know, it probably reflects better on you than it does on people like me who do.  Originally a decorated edge to the top of the amice, in some parts of Europe they evolved into separate collars, even as they fell out of use in Rome.  Here are Deacons Bradley and Lloyd last Monday, seen in one of the very fine Mazar photos of the day.

Apparelled amices became a feature of Sarum celebrations, and you can see traces of that around many of the grander buildings found in Anglicanism.  For example, these two archive photos from Westminster Abbey show how apparelled amices have survived there, as a vestige of a very old English use.

They survived outside Sarum though, including in places such as Milan and indeed in Spain, this latter connection making their use at St James's Spanish Place very suitable (St James's having originally been, in penal times, the Spanish Embassy chapel).

Talk of a Spanish connection, Anglican Patrimony and apparelled amices leads us back to St Mary's Bourne St, where the so called "Spanish set" of vestments, used usually on Marian feast days, includes apparelled amices.  Here are a couple of photos of them being worn in procession c.1992.  The eagle-eyed amongst you will spot that one of the clergy captured here in his Anglican days is Fr Nicholas Kavanagh, now one of the priests at St James's Spanish Place.  It's a small, small world.

All Glory, Laud and Honour

Tomorrow's blogpost will contain photos and a report on today's Ordinariate Chrism Mass, which took place at St James's this morning.  However, today's blogpost reports on what went on yesterday, when at Spanish Place as elsewhere, the Holy Week journey into Jerusalem began with Palm Sunday.  This photo shows the procession setting off on its way.

The particular nature of the Palm Sunday and Holy Week services make them very prone to bring memories of previous years and comparisons to previous celebrations of the same day.  Memories of outdoor processions from St Barnabas Pimlico to St Mary's Bourne St were certainly not that far from our minds as we gathered before Mass in the place where the procession was to begin.  Last year, all three of the first members of the Marylebone group were heavily involved in the marking of Palm Sunday at Bourne St, one of us as churchwarden, one of us as an acolyte and one of us as subdeacon (and hence chanting the Chronista part in the Passion).  This year, we were simply in the congregation, but felt very much at home and as if we had been a part of this for years. 

Here are some photos of yesterday at St James's, followed by a photo of last year's Bourne St procession, for old time's sake. 

This first photo shows a little seen view of St James's.  It is taken from Manchester Mews, and affords an excellent chance to see the outside of the beautiful apse of this stunning building.

Still having a very Anglican habit of turning up too early, we were amongst the first to arrive.  However, even at that point all had been readied.

Father Colven presides, with Fr Irwin and Fr Kavanagh dressed ready for the later concelebration, and Monsignor Jamieson in choir dress.

The procession sets off on the short journey round the corner and into the main door of St James's.

A rare shot of the renowned St James's choir.  They do a stunning job, as many readers will recall from the Solemn Evensong and Benediction held to mark the Ordinariate's first anniversary. 

The congregation makes it way along George St and towards the door of the church.

Two shots of the sanctuary after mass, the tranquility before the 12 noon Mass only preserved by the throng leaving after the 1030 Mass keeping the incoming crowds back.

The 2011 Palm Sunday procession held by our former Anglican parish, St Mary's Bourne St.  Two members of the Marylebone Ordinariate Group are visible in this photo. 

A photo I did not take, but which in some ways wish I had, would have been of the Canon being said.  There, at the altar, were three former Anglican clergyman, now priests in the Catholic Church, who had made the very same journey we had into the Church, and who now shared with us the fact of being in communion with the Successor of St Peter and with over a billion others.    It was a powerful moment for ex-Anglicans experiencing their first Palm Sunday, their first journey into Jerusalem, in the Catholic Church.  For some rather good words of encouragement for others who might be considering the same journey, click on this link to read a pastoral letter from Monsignor Steenson, the Ordinary of the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St Peter, the Ordinariate for former Anglicans in North America.

The choir pictured and praised above were on very good form, not least in the beauty of the Sanctus, Benedictus and Agnus Dei of Palestrina's Missa Aeterna Christi Munera.  Hymns are always an important part of ceremonies that involve processions, and we did indeed sing All Glory, Laud and Honour yesterday as we walked to church, just as we had a year before at Bourne Street.  After Mass this year, we had the opportunity to sing one of the most powerful yet gentle hymns in the book, My Song is Love Unknown.   The John Ireland tune is tremendously affecting, and full of the most beautiful harmonic moments, not least the B flat resolving onto the A in the tenor part of the penultimate line.



Having avoided a link to a video of the well known hymn setting of All Glory, Laud and Honour, it seems only right to include those well known words in what will probably be to most people a less familiar form.  With thanks to the Let Nothing You Dismay blog, here is a youtube video of how the procession is done in Rome.