A Hidden Gem

Today, wearing my archivist hat, I gave a talk to Jill and Brett Kelly's group at their house in Evenley, Northamptonshire. The Kellys run a good Catholic library in their home and people come to the monthly meetings from near and far. They also sell books and I particularly enjoyed their 'bargain basement,' where secondhand books were available at £2 each (I picked up several Ignatius Press titles, mostly by Peter Kreeft). The Kellys (who have 17 grandchildren) made me think of penal times, when Catholic households and families provided such powerful centres of the Faith for the surrounding area.

On the way back to the station we popped into the charming little church of the Holy Trinity at Hethe, just inside Oxfordshire and the Archdiocese of Birmingham. Catholicism survived in this area thanks to the Fermor family of Somerton and Tusmore, who maintained a chapel and priest over many generations. The present church was opened in 1832 to look after the needs of local Catholics after the Fermor's estate passed into Protestant hands. It has just celebrated its 175th anniversary. From the outside it looks unprepossing:

It seats about 150 people, has a glorious presbytery next door and the sanctuary arrangement would undoubtedly meet with the Holy Father's approval:

I loved the little 'harmonium' at the back:

It's good to know these hidden gems still exist.

A Festal Day

A busy day with two parish/school Masses, a morning spent running round the presbytery like a headless chicken and a delightful festal lunch with the Ursulines of Jesus in the neighbouring Convent (luckily they are a French Order, founded in the Vendee, and so there was a good bottle of Bordeaux!).

Then I made the journey to Epsom for the Ordination of Bruno, the last of my seminary contemporaries to be ordained. I am now officially a dinosaur and won't be automatically on the Ordination invitation lists in the summer.

St Joseph's church in Epsom (diocese of Arundel and Brighton) is as modern as they get. There is very little religious iconography - indeed when we sang the Salve at the end of the Mass none of the concelebrants could find a Marian image to turn to! I think this photo, borrowed from the comprehensive parish website, gives a good impression of the interior (note the full immersion font):

Everyone got a sore neck during the Liturgy of the Word since the readers and cantor were effectively behind us. The tabernacle is hidden behind the glass screen that surrounds the sanctuary. I had a good view of the ordinand's family from my seat - and they are quite a family! Fr Bruno's sister belongs to the Community of St John and his sister-in-law is the courageous Abigail, a recent 'Catholic Woman of the Year.' It was lovely to see the joy on their faces. In the Order of Service, Fr Bruno wrote a brief introduction to the ceremony and chose a beautiful quote from St Gregory:

This configuration [of the priest] to Christ and to his ministry is essentially founded on a deep personal bond with Jesus Christ. Saint Gregory the Great, the spiritual father of the English clergy, eloquently speaks of this essential connection between the interior life and ministry: "What else are holy men but rivers that water the parched earth? Yet they would dry up if they did not return to the place where they began their course. That is, if they do not abide in the interiority of the heart and do not bind themselves fast with chains of longing in love for the Creator, their tongue withers up. But out of love they continually return to this inner sanctuary, and what they pour out in public they draw from the well of love. By loving they learn what they proclaim in teaching."

Catholic London

Yesterday was a busy day that took me to two of London's most beautiful and interesting churches.

First of all I went to St Etheldreda's, Ely Place - a Rosminian church that was founded from my current parish (Kingsland). It is one of the oldest Catholic churches in this country for the chapel dates from the late thirteenth century and was used by the bishops of Ely as their London base. This connection ended at the Reformation but it returned to Catholic hands briefly in the seventeenth century, when it was used by the Spanish Ambassador, and again in 1873, when Fr William Lockhart purchased the property for the Institute of Charity. American readers might be interested to know that the Catholic chapel at West Point Military Academy is modelled on St Etheldreda's.

I went to this venerable church to meet the archivist of the Rosminians, who is an Englishman and was passing through London on his way to Africa. We retired to Ye Old Mitre Tavern, hidden in a nearby alley and originally dating from Elizabeth I's reign. I'm trying to find out more about my new parish's history and, although the Institute's archive contains a file of documentation (including plans of the original church), one would need to go all the way to the Mother House at Stresa in northern Italy. The archivist has kindly invited me to visit at the end of May - an offer I intend to take up (and this has nothing to do with the fact that the place is on the western shore of Lake Maggiore!).

After a stint at the diocesan archives I then made my way to Mayfair and the stunning Jesuit church of the Immaculate Conception, Farm Street, which was opened in 1849 (just before the Restoration of our Hierarchy). The occasion was a Council meeting of the Catholic Records Society - and I urge all readers with an interest in English Catholic history to join. For a very reasonable subscription you get two issues of an internationally respected journal (Recusant History) and a hardback monograph.

There was time, also, to pop into the book launch of the latest offering from Family Publications: a reprint of John Gerard: The Autobiography of an Elizabethan, with a new introduction by Michael Hodgetts. It's a gripping story - as the write up says,

John Gerard was a Lancashire man, educated at Oxford and ordained in Rome. After a ministry in East Anglia he was arrested and tortured in the Tower of London but, miraculously, escaped and continued working as a priest for the next eight years, even gaining access to the courts of Elizabeth I and James I. After the Gunpowder Plot, however, he fled to the continent where he wrote this autobiography, which transports the reader into a world of priest-holes, secret Masses and high intrigue. He died in Rome in 1637 without ever seeing England again.

Finally I rushed back to Kingsland where I was meeting some priest friends for Vespers and Benediction in preparation for the Feast of the Martyrs of the Venerable English College, Rome (1 December). Here is the scene in the sacristy afterwards:

And the evening finished with a jolly meal on Newington Green. A great Catholic London day!

Style and Substance

Today I attended the annual meeting of diocesan archivists, held this year at Brentwood Cathedral in Essex. This is our newest cathedral. Although part of it constitutes the original 1861 structure, the main area is provided by the neo-classical extension built fifteen years ago:

The neo-classical architecture is undoubtedly tasteful but it seems strange that the most prominent decorative feature of the church interior are the massive golden chandeliers - prominent because there is hardly any other decoration. It took me some time to notice the presence of the cross; there are very few images and the stations (the roundels above the arches) are in a modern style and very hard to make out.

The Blessed Sacrament is reserved in a beautiful baroque Neapolitan tabernacle in the apse of the old church, hidden round the back of the bishop's throne and choir stalls and therefore easy to miss. You can't see any sign of the Blessed Sacrament chapel on entering the Cathedral. There is a strong musical tradition - with a fine boys and men choir - but outside of liturgical services the church seems very empty.

The interior may be light, spacious and elegant, but to my mind a nice building doesn't necessarily make a satisfactory church.