Given that there are more than a few postings scheduled for this blog over the next few days (due to rather special Ordinariate events), we have decided to post this article two days earlier than we might have done. It would never do for those who have joined the Catholic Church in search of the Unity called for by Christ Himself and assured by the Successor of St Peter to omit to mention Friday's great Solemnity.
When the Solemnity of Ss Peter and Paul arrives, as well as remembering to attend mass (some of us in our group at St James's, some of quite possibly at St Mary Moorfields), let us give particular thanks for the priestly ordination 61 years ago that day of our Holy Father Pope Benedict.
Let us give thanks for the life and witness of this truly remarkable man, this Pope of Christian Unity, who has done so much to reunite the scattered flock - something of which we members of the Ordinariate are particularly aware. Let us ask for the intercession of Our Lady, St Peter, St Paul and all the saints, that with renewed strength in the Lord, our Holy Father might continue to work valiantly and succesfully for the unity of all Christians and for the greater glory of God.
We reproduce below a text that we included on this blog very recently, taken from an Angelus address given by the Holy Father in August 2008, in which he describes the particular role of the Church and of the Pope within it.
"You are the Christ, the Son of the living God". Jesus answers Peter's inspired profession of faith: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven". This is the first time that Jesus speaks of the Church, whose mission is the actuation of God's great design to gather the whole of humanity into a single family in Christ. Peter's mission, and that of his Successors, is precisely to serve this unity of the one Church of God formed of Jews and pagans of all peoples; his indispensable ministry is to ensure that she is never identified with a single nation, with a single culture, but is the Church of all peoples - to make present among men and women, scarred by innumerable divisions and conflicts, God's peace and the renewing power of his love. This, then, is the special mission of the Pope, Bishop of Rome and Successor of Peter: to serve the inner unity that comes from God's peace, the unity of those who have become brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ.
It seems to us that the Petrine ministry is such a tremendous gift to the Church and to the world. It allows us to move away from a fragmented, dismembered vision of Christianity, ever ready to fracture itself further, and instead, in union with Rome and the other ancient churches, to move together towards greater unity.
Anglo-Catholics might be interested in an open letter that was sent earlier this week, on the Solemnity of St Joseph, by Monsignor Nicola Bux (Consultor to the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith) to Bishop Bernard Fellay and to all the priests of the Society of St Pius X. Christian Unity is high up the agenda in Rome.
The letter contains much that is entirely specific to the situation of the SSPX. However, if one excludes those sections, could the text not equally be addressed to some of those in the Anglican Communion pondering their futures? The letter, driven by the efforts of Pope Benedict XVI, this Pope of Christian Unity, to reunite the flock in one fold under one shepherd, contains points that will resonate deeply with many in that situation.
........Christian brotherhood is stronger than flesh and blood because it offers us, thanks to the divine Eucharist, a foretaste of heaven.
Christ invited us to experience communion, this is what our "I" is made of. Communion means loving one's neighbor a priori, because we have the one Savior in common with him. Based on this fact, communion is ready for every sacrifice in the name of unity; and this unity must be visible, as the last petition addressed by Our Lord to his Father teaches us - "ut unum sint, ut credat mundus" -, because this is the decisive testimony of Christ's friends........
.....With Saint Catherine of Siena, we wish to say: "Come to Rome in complete safety," next to the house of the common Father who was given to us as the visible and perpetual principle and foundation of Catholic unity......
......How not to think of the contribution you could give to the welfare of the whole Church, thanks to your pastoral and doctrinal resources, your capabilities and your sensibility?
This is the appropriate moment, the favorable time to come. Timete Dominum transeuntem: let not the occasion of grace the Lord offers you pass by, let it not pass by your side without recognizing it.
Will the Lord grant another one? Will not we all one day appear before His Court and answer not only for the evil we have done, but above all for the good we might have accomplished but did not?
The Holy Father's heart trembles: he awaits you anxiously because he loves you, because the Church needs you for a common profession of faith before a world that is each day more secularized and that seems to turn its back to its Creator and Savior hopelessly.
In the full ecclesial communion with the great family that is the Catholic Church, your voice will no longer be stifled, your contribution will be neither ignorable nor ignored, but will be able to bring forth, with that of so many others, abundant fruits which would otherwise go to waste........
........On this day dedicated to him, may Saint Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Patron of the Universal Church, inspire and sustain your resolutions: "Come to Rome in all safety".
How else to follow something like that but with one of our favourite youtube clips, certainly provided here before, and featured as a permanent video on the right hand sidebar of this blog.
Tu es Petrus: et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam meam. Et portæ inferi non prævalebunt adversus eam: et tibi dabo claves regni cælorum.
Thanks to our previous blogpost More than Words having been shared on Facebook (if you are not a member of our Facebook group, please think about signing up, the link is in the right hand sidebar of this blog), then having been highlighted by the Ordinariate Portal blog and then finally having been referred to in a few other blogs, we have had very many more visitors than usual over the past couple of days. A warm welcome to any new readers who have stuck with us and who are now reading their first post-big event blogpost here.
This blog started with the intention of documenting the arrival of our Ordinariate Group in the Catholic Church, and by reporting that we were quite happy with where we had ended up. Early posts talked of the background to the decision making process, steps along the way in that thought process and then recounted some early experiences. As time has gone on, posts have gone up based on streams of consciousness inspired by thoughts of the saint of the day, or from some news article or developments or blogposts elsewhere. Occasionally, we have even strayed into the dangerous field of commenting on what is happening of relevance to our Anglo-Catholic friends still fighting the good fight in the CofE, as we did yesterday: but when commenting on Ordinariate-related matters, as seen from either side of the Tiber, we tend to focus on the happy landing we have had, rather than on the challenges facing those we have very sadly left behind on the other shore.
Today's post is not about the trials and tribulations of Anglo-Catholicism. There are enough people writing about that already. Instead, a few brief thoughts on St Clement (with absolutely no mention of Philadelphia).
St Clement, one of the very earliest popes, is one of the names from history that provides a connection with the time of Christ. Pew fodder like me (sometimes referred to more politely as the laity) so often hear all these marvellous stories from the Gospels, but without the occasional dose of historical perspective, this can sometimes risk appearing to be rather remote. St Clement, who became Pope at the end of the first century AD, is said to have been ordained by St Peter, and was in Rome at the time St Paul was (and was possibly one of the Romans to whom the Epistle to the Romans was addressed). He may well be the Clement referred to in Philippians 4:3.
And I entreat thee also, my sincere companion, help those women who have laboured with me in the gospel, with Clement and the rest of my fellow labourers, whose names are in the book of life.
The one surviving document of his, a Letter to the Church in Corinth, is considered among the earliest, indeed possibly the earliest, Christian document after the component books of the New Testament. The significance of this early letter for those with an interest in Roman primacy and in the threefold structure of Holy Order is that the letter includes authoritative admonitions from St Clement about events that have taken place in the Church in Corinth, and reminding his readers of the hierarchy of the offices of bishop, priest and deacon.
It is one of those texts that sits very uneasily with the charming but not necessarily entirely accurate image conjured up when people talk cosily of something being "very early church", a term which for some reason now often appears to mean something closer to Quaker prayer meetings than to the highly ritualistic worship of the first century Jewish temple or indeed the very early Church (as Fr Hunwicke has discussed on his blog far more eruditely and eloquently than I ever could).
St Clement, along with two of the other early popes (Linus and Cletus) are mentioned by name in the Roman Canon. For those of us who follow the text week by week in the missal (covered by the singing of the Sanctus, the Celebrant's words are usually inaudible at St James's at this point), this provides yet another historical link to the first century.
St Clement's life, as one might expect for a Christian leader at that time, did not end pleasantly. He is said to have been exiled to a colonial outpost near modern day Sebastopol in the Ukraine during the reign of the Emperor Trajan, and at some point thereafter, he was martyred by being thrown into the Black Sea tied to an anchor. Given his importance as one of the very first popes, St Clement is almost always pictured in at least mitre, and often in tiara. When it comes to images of his martyrdom, this leads to some rather interesting results, as this picture shows.
The Basilica of San Clemente in Rome houses the tombs of St Clement (and of St Ignatius of Antioch). This minor Basilica became one of the sites frequented by Blessed John Paul II during his years as Pope, on occasions when he wished to pray in particular for Poland, his native land, and for the countries of Eastern Europe. The reason for the Pope John Paul's many vists was that the Basilica also contains the remains of St Cyril and Methodius, saints who evangelised much of Eastern Europe, and who in 868 brought the mortal remains of St Clement to Rome.
New readers of this blog may not be aware that many of our posts end with a rather tenuous link to a piece of music. The Alleluia for a Mass of St Clement celebrated today is Tu es Petrus, of which the awe-inspiring setting by James MacMillan, as sung at Westminster Cathedral last year for the Holy Father's visit, is included in the right-hand sidebar of this blog. The search is then for an alternative setting for inclusion today. As St Clement was a Pope who struggled with (and was eventually killed by) secular powers, I find my mind somehow turning to Pope Pius VII, a Pope who spent his entire Papacy struggling against French Imperial interference.
One of the most humiliating moments of his papacy must have been his participation in the extraganza and cavalcade that was what we in English usually call the Coronation of Napoleon, but in fact is properly called the Sacre de Napoleon, the Consecration of Napoleon (French royalty having been consecrated with chrism by the Archbishop of Rheims as the key moment of their formally becoming monarch, rather than the crowning being the crucial thing that people remember). Huge pressure was placed on Pope Pius VII to attend, and despite recent assasinations of Church officials in France, and against the advice of the Roman Curia, Pius did end up attending (how voluntary this decision was is a matter of debate). As every school boy and girl used to know, at the crucial moment, Napoleon took the crown himself and placed it on his own head, before himself crowning the Empress Josephine. The humiliated Pope could do no more than stick to the script and announce "Vivat Imperator in Aeternum", before listening to the choir sing first the Te Deum and then, during the acclamations of the people as Napoleon processed out, "Domine salvum fac imperatorem nostrum Napoleonem".
The Papal Procession had earlier set off for Notre Dame from the Tuileries led by a bishop, carrying a processional cross and seated on a donkey (does that almost count as quasi-Anglican Patrimony, thinking of Aunt Dot and her camel, Fr Chantry-Pigg and the Towers of Trebizond?). When the Pope arrived at Notre Dame and processed in (minus donkey I suppose, there is no donkey in the David painting of the event), the choir sang the Le Sueur setting of Tu es Petrus. There you go, I warned you that I liked tenuous links.
Yesterday's post Anglican Patrimony and the Ordinariate discussed the various elements that can be considered as Anglican Patrimony, that gift that ex-Anglicans joining the Catholic Church can bring, as part of a process of mutual enrichment. Our blogpost was clear that Anglican Patrimony covers more than liturgy, more than Cranmerian language and hymns, and extends across the whole range of an ex-Anglican's involvement with the Church.
What we bring with us as Anglican Patrimony is important, but even more important is the fact that we are now full members of the Catholic Church, fully in communion with the Holy Father and with over one fifth of all humanity. Because of that, and because, much as we loved our previous home it was beset with difficulties, we are all immensely grateful to the Holy Father for his generous response to the requests of many Anglicans in Anglicanorum Coetibus.
I'm afraid to say that I loved the picture of the Barque of Peter that I included in the blogpost yesterday so much that I am going to include it today as well, along with a rather nice picture of the Holy Father on board a "barque" as he approached Sydney Harbour for World Youth Day there a few years ago.
We are delighted to bring what we bring as Anglican Patrimony, but other Catholics should not worry that we value this above the treasures of the Catholic Church. We contribute what we can, and what is of value. We also receive and learn much that is of value. No member of the Ordinariate has secret plans to reproduce the Book of Common Prayer.
Anglicans may have a strong musical and liturgical tradition of their own, but we are happier seeing the following than even our "best" moments as Anglicans.
It is often said that Anglican Patrimony means hymns. Well, that is slightly glib, but it is true that when we were in the Church of England, we were probably more used to hymns than many Catholics. However, the hymns we have encountered in the Catholic Church are very much to our liking and to our taste. Our first blogpost this week included a link to a recording of the beautiful Fr Faber hymn sung last Sunday at St James's Spanish Place.
However, we would like to make mention of one very special hymn that we have encountered in the Catholic Church. Sung to the H F Hemy tune St Catherine, which is often used in the US for Faith of our Fathers, St Alphonsus Liguori's hymn O Bread of Heaven has had a great effect on us: it is a clear expression of a doctrine for which Anglo-Catholics had to fight so hard, but in the Catholic Church simply reflects the agreed position. Here it is sung at Westminster Cathedral on the occasion of the Holy Father's visit in 2010. The hymn was also sung at Westminster Cathedral on 15 January 2011, during Communion at the Ordination Mass of Monsignors Newton, Burnham and Broadhurst, which is where we first heard and sang it. The last verse is especially wonderful.
O Bread of Heaven, beneath this veil
Thou dost my very God conceal:
My Jesus, dearest treasure, hail!
I love Thee and, adoring, kneel;
Each loving soul by Thee is fed
With Thine own Self in form of Bread.
O food of life, Thou Who dost give
The pledge of immortality;
I live, no 'tis not I that live;
God gives me life, God lives in me:
He feeds my soul, He guides my ways,
And every grief with joy repays.
O Bond of love that dost unite
The servant to his living Lord;
Could I dare live and not requite
Such love - then death were meet reward:
I cannot live unless to prove
Some love for such unmeasured love.
Beloved Lord, in Heaven above
There, Jesus, Thou awaitest me,
To gaze on Thee with endless love;
Yes, thus I hope, thus shall it be:
For how can He deny me Heaven,
Who here on earth Himself hath given?
How to follow yesterday's post, Memories of Bourne St, Lepanto and Fr Hunwicke? There's a challenge. Traffic on this blog was double usual levels yesterday, and the post has rushed straight up the hit parade to be the most read blogpost we have yet put up.
Perhaps readers of this blog have a particular devotion of Our Lady of Victories and Our Lady of the Rosary. Surely so, but no doubt the post was also happy reading for those present at St Mary's Bourne St when Fr Hunwicke delivered the homily quite brilliantly, and no doubt the post was manna to those who are fans of the Liturgical Notes blog.
Thanks are due once again to the homilist for his kind permission to reproduce his work. Thanks also to friends of this blog who shared the Facebook post announcing the publishing of the blogpost : keep up the publicity! New readers, please sign up to join our Facebook group to receive regular updates, the link is shown on the right.
The one unfortunate effect of having focussed on Our Lady of Victories yesterday is that we couldn't get in a mention for St Firminus of Uzès. Uzès has a special significance for a significant number of current and former members of St Mary's Bourne St, with many happy memories of holidays spent near there in small and large groups at a traditional Mas belonging to a member of the St Mary's congregation.
Meeting the Sunday obligation there often involves attending Mass at Uzès Cathedral (a rather good photo can be found here), and for a special treat might involve a trip to Le Barroux.
Today's saint of the day is St Wilfred. Over the past year or so, St Wilfred has become a slightly tricky saint to discuss in the context of Anglo-Catholicism and the Ordinariate. An Anglican society has been named in honour of St Wilfred and St Hilda, attempting to seek to secure some kind of provision for Anglo-Catholics in the Church of England for the new era that will dawn once General Synod votes in favour of the ordination of women to the Church of England's episcopacy. Since it is a tricky subject, I shall steer well clear, other than to echo the sentiments of others who find the naming of the society rather strange at at time when the Ordinariate is in existence, as both St Wilfred and St Hilda are saints who, in their time on this earth, were renowned for sorting out the English Church and, particularly in Wilfred's case, prioritising obedience to Rome over obedience to Canterbury. I leave the polemics to others more skilled in the matter, and wish to assure all our Anglican friends of the prayers and support of the members of the Marylebone Ordinariate Group. Shared years kneeling together at the same altar are not easily forgotten. In the unlikely event that there are any comments on this particular topic, I regret to say that they will not be published: there are plenty of far more suitable places to discuss what is going on in the Church of England than here.
All this talk of ex-Anglicans and remaining Anglicans brings to mind an article that the Ordinariate Portal highlighted earlier this week. The piece by William Oddie talks of the significance and genesis of the Ordinariate project, not so much in terms of the practical discussions of the last couple of years, but in terms of Blessed John Henry Newman's vision; of the conversations between the then Cardinal Ratzinger, Cardinal Hume and Monsignor Graham Leonard (then Anglican Bishop of London) that might, had things been different, have led to an Ordinariate far earlier; and of William Oddie's prescient book The Roman Option.
While the article seems to assume that everything would happen at once, we know of course that those coming over will come over in a number of waves. Avid readers of blogs will know that several new Ordinariate groups have been announced in recent weeks, including yet another one in Central London and one in Balham, as well as a number outside London. We also note the pleasing article in the Catholic Herald, referring to statements by Cardinal Wuerl, made upon the occasion of his visit to Stirling in Scotland, about the imminent launch of an Ordiniarate in the US.
William Oddie concludes the article with a most wonderful extract from Blessed John Henry Newman's Apologia pro Vita Sua. We have now added that same extract to the right hand sidebar of this blog. It is indeed very moving, expressing a hope that one day we shall all be united, and reunited, into One Fold and under One Shepherd.
… I gather up and bear in memory those familiar affectionate companions and counsellors, who in Oxford were given to me, one after another, to be my daily solace and relief; and all those others, of great name and high example, who were my thorough friends, and showed me true attachment in times long past….
And I earnestly pray for this whole company, with a hope against hope, that all of us, who once were so united, and so happy in our union, may even now be brought at length, by the Power of the Divine Will, into One Fold and under One Shepherd.
Powerful words indeed. We finish with one of the most Catholic, if you will, settings in the Byrd Gradualia, Tu es Petrus. As Anglican Patrimony, however, we have posted a version being sung by King's College Cambridge. The performance is very much of its time, but the words and the music are as potent as ever.
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.
