Minster and St Edburga

I found out today that 12 December, as well as being the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe and my birthday, is also the dies natalis of St Edburga, a princess of the House of Wessex and third Abbess of Minster. It was a happy coincidence that I spent the last few days supplying the sacramental needs of the Benedictine nuns of Minster in Kent, who live on the site of the seventh century monastery - as you can see in the picture above, part of the buildings are Saxon. It must be one of the oldest inhabited buildings in Catholic hands.


We celebrated the saint's feast at Mass early this morning, possibly yards from her resting place (no one seems to know exactly where she was buried though the Saxon church, the most likely spot, lies beneath the sisters' lawn). I was tempted to use St Edburga's other name in the collect - St Bugga. She was maintained a correspondence with St Boniface and sent him books and vestments. St Edburga thus provides a connection with the German mission and another great saint - St Walburga. It was nuns from the monastery of St Walburga at Eichstatt who 'colonised' Minster just before WWII. They were fleeing from Nazi harassment, although they were viewed with great suspicion by the British authorities and had to briefly move from the strategic location of Minster (near the English Channel and an air field) to the West Country. By the ways, the nuns of Minster still maintain links with their mother house amnd distribute the miraculous oil of St Walburga. I brought a few bottles back with me to give to the sick of the parish.

The patroness of Minster - and of Thanet (the local area, formally an island) - is St Mildred, the original monastery's second Abbess. Her symbol - and that of the other early Abbesses - is a deer. This goes back to a story concerning her mother, St Ermenburga/Domneva. A tame deer was let loose and the path the animal took determined the boundaries of the monastic land. The deer symbol can be found everywhere in the area.

It was great to spend a few peaceful days with the nuns, writing a few sermons for the coming weeks and catching up with prayer and reading. They invite priests wishing to make retreats to act as their chaplain, so they have a quick turn-over - and are prevented from getting bored by one priest's sermons! A family connection also made me feel very much at home - my mother's cousin, a monk of Ramsgate Abbey, was parish priest of Minster for many years and my great-aunt (who died in 1980 aged 95) lived in a bungalow owned by the Priory - all the sisters called her 'auntie.'

New Beati

Turning on EWTN for a moment this morning, I was reminded that today is the day of the beatification of the parents of St Therese at Lisieux. Of course, the annals of the saints contain many examples of parents and children who have been raised to the altars: St Helena, mother of St Constantine; St Monica, mother of St Augustine; St Wilfrida, mother of St Edith of Wilton; St Ethebert of Kent, father of St Ethelburga (who married St Edwin of Northumbria). But it's unusual for both parents of a saint to be recognised for their sanctity, especially in the modern age.

I hope eventually they will be included in the Universal Calendar (presumably after their eventual canonisation, Deo volente) since the Martin family remind us that holiness is possible in a modern family and that, with the help of God's grace, the ups and downs of family life are a means to this.

Indeed, despite their many secular responsibilities, both Louis and Zelie had deep prayer lives and made their family a veritable domestic church. The fruits of their love and devotion can be seen in the subsequent lives of their daughters - all of them (eventually) nuns and one a Doctor of the Church (whose relics will 'tour' the UK next year). Louis and Zelie also had to face many trials and both died after long and painful illnesses (in Zelie's case, at a young age).

Blesseds Louis and Zelie Martin, pray for us!

St Thecla

It's the Year of St Paul - and yet I wonder how many people remembered that today is the feast of St Thecla. Perhaps a few of the locals in Milan, Tarragona and other towns where she is patron (the above picture, by Tiepolo, depicts the saint freeing Este from the plague). But since disappearing from the liturgical calendars in 1969 and not even being mentioned in the most recent edition of the Roman Martyrology, she has largely been forgotten and consigned to the dustbin of 'myths and legends.'

St Thecla, of course, was St Paul's most famous female disciple. According to some early sources she was even deemed ‘equal to the apostles.’ The main account for her life is found in the apocryphal Acts of SS Paul and Thecla. This text states that St Thecla was a noble lady from Iconium who, on the eve of her wedding, sat at her window mesmerized by the preaching of St Paul, who happened to be passing through the city.

From that moment Christ won over her heart and she was soon brought before the Governor, who condemned her to death by burning. She was saved by a miraculous hailstorm, which put the fire out, and she ran to St Paul and asked for baptism. The Apostle wanted to test her and delayed her baptism, taking her with him to Antioch, where once again she was captured and, this time, thrown to the wild beasts. Luckily the saint was protected by a she-lion and (rather unusually) baptized herself by diving into a pool of water in the amphitheatre. I suppose the point was that her willingness to face death was itself baptism by blood, although she survived both of her martyrdoms. Because of her sufferings, however, she is called ‘Apostle and protomartyr among women’.

St Thecla then made her escape to the Apostle dressed as a man. For many years, she lived as an ascetic in a cave (rather like St Mary Magdalen) and a monastery was later built on the site. St Ambrose later presented the saint as a model for virgins and women religious. Another tradition says that she travelled with St Paul to Spain, where (as mentioned above) she is patron of Tarragona.

Not surprisingly, St Thecla has on occasion been hijacked by feminists; even Tertullian, writing in the second century, complained that some Christians were using the saint’s story to legitimize women preaching and baptizing. The saint, though, is a reminder that women had an active involvement in the early Church and were closely linked to the Pauline mission. I for one see no reason to doubt that St Paul had a zealous female disciple called Thecla, who may very well have come from Iconium and faced persecution.

St Lucius, King of Britain

I’ve always been fascinated by the legend of a mysterious British King, St Lucius, who supposedly wrote to Pope St Eleutherius (above) in the late 17os to request baptism. Missionaries were dutifully sent and the King subsequently founded several churches, including a ‘Cathedral’ in London on the site of St Peter-upon-Cornhill.

St Bede writes: ‘while the holy Eleutherius ruled the Roman Church, Lucius, a British King, sent him a letter, asking to be made a Christian by his direction. This pious request was quickly granted, and the Britons received the Faith and held it peacefully in all its purity and fullness until the time of the Emperor Diocletian.’ The King later abdicated and travelled to Switzerland as a missionary, where he won a martyr’s crown. His shrine can still be found at Chur.

Thus states the legend. In 1904 the story was ‘deconstructed’ by the German historian Carl Gustav Adolph von Harnack, who suggested that St Lucius had been mixed up with Lucius Abgar IX (179-214), King of Edessa and a contemporary of St Eleutherius. The confusion may have resulted when the Edessian fortress of Birtha was latinised into Britium Edessenorum. In the hands of a medieval copyist, Britio may have become Britannio. This theory seems to have been accepted almost universally over the last 100 years.

But the archaeologist, David J. Knight, has just written a whole book about the legend of King Lucius of Britain. It arrived in the post yesterday and the few chapters I’ve managed to read convincingly question Harnack’s deconstructive theory and opens the way to proposing that St Lucius actually did exist!

One of the many interesting details – especially for those in the Archdiocese of Westminster – is the traditional list of the ‘Archbishops of London’ between the reign of St Lucius and the coming of St Mellitus, the bishop of London appointed after the mission of St Augustine of Canterbury. There would be no more Catholic Archbishops in London until 1850…

Thean (c.179-185)
Eluanus
Cadar
Obinus
Conan
Paludius
Stephen (martyr, +17 September 304)
Augulus (martyr, +7 September 305)
Iltutus Restitutus (attended the Council of Arles, 314)
Dedwin
Thedred
Hilary (c.367)
Fastidius (c. 431)
Guidelium (c.410)
Vodinus (martyr, +23 July 436)
Theanus (c. 587)

Note the three martyrs, SS Stephen, Augulus and Vodinus, now totally forgotten. These cults were probably discouraged by St Augustine, who preferred the ancient Roman martyrs and arranged for their relics to be brought to England to replace those of the more dubious British saints.

If you’re interested in the origins of Christianity in this country, then you’ll find Knight’s book very interesting…

400th Anniversary of a Martyrdom

Today is the 400th anniversary of the martyrdom of St Thomas Garnet, who suffered at Tyburn on 23 June 1608. On Saturday evening I celebrated Mass at Tyburn Convent for those who had made the Martyrs' Walk (organised by Miles Jesu and led by Joanna Bogle) and I took the opportunity to honour St Thomas Garnet in the homily:

Deep below the streets that surround us lies the river Tyburn, a tributary of the Thames that gave its name to a small village on this spot and the infamous gallows (or ‘Tyburn Tree’) that served the capital as a place of execution between the twelfth and eighteenth centuries. Like London’s other lost rivers, the Tyburn has long since been hidden underground and largely forgotten – although the Mayor of London has recently proposed raising some of these waterways once again to the surface.

By making the Martyrs’ Walk today, we have raised up to the surface of our memories the many Catholics who suffered here and in other parts of London and the country. We not only remember their brave witness but are fully confident that the blood of the martyrs provides us with a channel – indeed a river – of grace and intercession. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.

I'd like to especially recall one of the Tyburn martyrs, the Jesuit St Thomas Garnet, the 400th anniversary of whose death we celebrate on Monday (23rd June).

The saint was born in Southwark around 1575 and was the nephew of Henry Garnet, the famous Superior of the English Jesuits at the time of the Gunpowder Plot. After being educated at a grammar school in Horsham, St Thomas Garnet went overseas to continue his education, like so many other Catholics of the day: he first spent time at the Jesuit college of St Omers. This institution later moved to Stonyhurst and Garnet is considered its first martyr (or protomartyr). Garnet then proceeded to the English College at Vallodolid, although his arrival there became quite an adventure. The ship that was going to take him across the Channel was delayed by bad weather and the young man was discovered hiding in the hold when the vessel was searched by the authorities, who always kept an eye open for young Catholics travelling overseas. He was taken to London for interrogation but eventually managed to escape.

Garnet’s life was marked by several periods of imprisonment. As a priest, he worked for a time in Warwickshire but was arrested at the time of the Gunpowder Plot, partly in the hope that he would give information concerning his uncle, Henry Garnet, who was eventually executed for his alleged involvement in the conspiracy. St Thomas Garnet was kept at the Tower in close confinement for the best part of a year and the fact that he had to lie on the bare floor during the winter led to the development of rheumatism. However, he was released in July 1606 and banished to the continent on pain of death. In Flanders he entered the Jesuit novitiate and returned to England the following year. After only six weeks of ministry, he was betrayed by an apostate priest called Rouse and arrested. He was found guilty of being a Catholic priest and remaining in England illegally – the main evidence for his Priesthood being a piece of graffiti he had supposedly added to the walls of his prison cell, reading: Thomas Garnet, Priest. He was quickly sentenced to death but professed that he was the happiest man alive and, when someone suggested that he might have an opportunity to escape, he spoke of an interior voice that said quite clearly: Noli fugere, Don’t run away. And so St Thomas Garnet was put to death at Tyburn on 23rd June 1608, aged 34.

Noli fugere, Don’t run away! We often think of the English Martyrs – in fact, of most saints – as flawless heroes who never wavered in their faith and in their actions. They were heroes most certainly but a large part of their heroism was the way that grace triumphed despite our frail human nature. The temptation to run away, to escape the terrible death of hanging, drawing and quartering would have been a natural human reaction for Garnet and the other martyrs. So too would be the temptation to reach a compromise or accept the offers that were normally made promising clemency and even preferment in return for conformity in matters of faith. The martyrs probably lay awake in their prisons at night struggling with these temptations and fears. But the English Martyrs realised that God’s truth was more important than their personal well-being and safety. They lived and died according to the words of our Gospel: ‘do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul: fear him rather who can destroy both body and soul in hell.’ The martyrs were prepared to go through great bodily suffering if it meant the preservation of the spirit.

Noli fugere, Don’t run away! Garnet’s words echo down to us 400 years later. It’s unlikely that we’ll win a martyrs crown in the same way as him but we do face the lesser martyrdom of facing indifference, secularism, relativism and ridicule. The Christian Life involves following Our Lord and even being hated in His Name. Practising as a Catholic in the twenty-first century involves the same struggle with the temptation to compromise and conform as it did in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Today we ask St Thomas Garnet and all the English Martyrs for their intercession: that we will be steadfast in our Faith and not compromise our principles even (and especially) when they are unpopular; to stand by the Rock of Peter and not be swept up by stormy waters; to realise that the only thing to be feared is losing God – for whoever loses Him loses everything; to carry the cross of Christ and not be tempted by an easier life. Let the words of St Thomas Garnet resound in our hearts today: Noli fugere, Don’t run away!

The Martyr of Greenwich

Today is the Memoria, in our diocesan calendar, of St Alphege – a very popular saint and national hero of a thousand years ago. He started life as a monk in Gloucestershire and Somerset, but despite trying to live a solitary life his talents were soon recognised and he was brought out into the public spotlight: he successively became Abbot of Bath, Bishop of Winchester and (in 1005) Archbishop of Canterbury.

It was not an easy time to be a Christian leader because of the on-going threat of the pagan Danes, better known to us as the Vikings, with their horned helmets and frequent raids on England. In 1011 they captured Canterbury and Archbishop Alphege was taken prisoner and ransomed for the princely sum of £3,000. He was taken towards London and eventually murdered at Greenwich, since he infuriated the Danes by not letting money be collected for his ransom. According to tradition, the saint was killed during a banquet - the Danes threw bones at him from their table and then one of them struck him on the head with an axe. He was buried at St Paul’s Cathedral, where his shrine was visited by many pilgrims, before being moved to Canterbury in 1023. St Thomas Becket prayed to St Alphege just before his own martyrdom in Canterbury Cathedral.

Even if St Alphege cannot be said to have explicitly died for the Faith, St Anselm said that, like St John the Baptist, he was a martyr for justice and truth. And so today we pray that through the intercession of St Alphege, we too will bear witness to the truth this coming week and pursue justice in all our undertakings, without compromising our principles in the face of opposition.

St Alphege, pray for us!

Good Friday - and the 400th Anniversary of a Martyrdom

Just returned from today's Solemn Liturgy, followed by some time in the confessional. Switching on EWTN I was pleased to be able to watch some of the action from St Peter's and also to see that the three chasubles we wore here in Hackney were not dissimilar to that worn by the Holy Father (see pictures above, courtesy of NLM)!

On Good Friday we commemorate the death of Our Lord and we pray for the strength to carry our own crosses, whatever they might be. Today, as it happens, is the 400th anniversary of the martyrdom of Blessed Matthew Flathers, who had a very obvious share in Good Friday.

A Yorkshire man by birth, he was educated at Douai and ordained at Arras in 1606. Soon afterwards he returned to the English Mission and was arrested almost immediately, in the aftermath of the Gunpowder Plot.He was banished but managed to return to Yorkshire and, after his second capture, condemned to death 'for his priestly character.' He was hanged, drawn and quartered at Micklegate, York on 21 March 1608.

According to Bishop Challoner, 'he was butchered in a most barbarous manner; for he was no sooner turned off the ladder [to hang], but immediately cut down; and rising upon his feet, attempted to walk, as if half stunned; but one of the Sheriff's men quickly stopt his journey, by giving him a desperate cut on the head with his halberd; another violently flung him down, and held him fast while the executioner ripped up his breast, pulled out his heart, and so completed the butchery.'

Blessed Matthew Flathers, pray for us!

Displaced Feasts

This year's early Holy Week has caused considerable confusion due to the displacing of some popular feasts. In this diocese, the Solemnity of St Joseph is transferred to Saturday but, strictly speaking, St Patrick's Day (falling on Holy Monday) is not transferable since it is not a Solemnity in this country. However, I think many parishes will be organising some sort of commemoration at the end of the week for 'pastoral reasons.'

Today we remember St Frances of Rome (above), although she is obviously displaced by the Sunday. This is a pity because I rather like her and fondly remember taking the morning off lectures in Rome so that I could pay my respects to the saint at the Tor de'Specchi convent. I wrote a little about her last year, in case you're interested - Santa Francesca Romana.

Leeks and St David

St David's life got off to an unpromising start when he was born on top of a cliff during a violent storm. However, since he came from a wealthy (possibly royal) background he was given a good education, thanks to St Paulinus, and eventually became a monk and bishop. He travelled around Wales, Cornwall and Brittany - which formed part of a sort of 'Celtic alliance' that was culturally and politically separate from Saxon England; these regions share many saints. St David founded churches and monasteries, including what is now the Cathedral of St David in Pembrokeshire.

He was involved in the struggle against Pelagianism (a heresy that originated in Britain) and, on one occasion as he was preaching against it during a Synod, the ground rose under him and lifted him up so that all could see and hear him. A dove also rested on his shoulder, a sure sign of God's favour.

But, you may ask, why the association with leeks (sometimes substituted by the more attrractive-looking daffodil)? After all, there are not many saints who are associated with vegetables. There are different theories. Some say that St David got Welsh soldiers to wear leeks in their helmets to distinguish them from the pagan Saxons in battle and that this was regarded as a sign of God's protection - though this could be a later tradition (perhaps associated with the battle of Agincourt, 1415) that was back-dated to the time of St David.

More plausible is the fact that St David lived an austere life, following a diet of water, herbs and vegetables - including the leek. He was known as the 'man of water,' for he drank nothing else and sometimes stood in a freezing cold lake, with water up to his neck, saying his prayers. A strict life that enabled him to reach the age of 147!

So the leek calls to mind the saint's austerities - including his vegetarianism long before it became fashionable - and so is appropriate food for thought as we approach the fourth Sunday of Lent.

St David, pray for us!

Leap year Saints

The 2004 Roman Martyrology lists four saints for today, who are thus only commemorated once every four years (although for other years there is an option to celebrate them on 28 February):

• Pope St Hilary/Hilarus (reigned 461-68), successor to St Leo the Great, who continued the fight against Arianism, made important decisions about the Church in Spain and Gaul, and added three chapels to the baptistery at the Lateran. He is buried at S Lorenzo fuori le Mura (not too far from Blessed Pius IX).
• St Oswald (d.992), Benedictine of Fleury and Archbishop of York, who is said to have died while washing the feet of the poor (his daily Lenten practice).
• Blessed Antonia of Florence (d.1472), a mother and widow who became a Poor Clare at Aquila, Italy. She was a disciple of St John Capistran.
• St Augustine Chapdelaine (1814-54), priest of the Society of the Foreign Missions, Paris, martyred in Guangxi, China.

Let's especially pray to them on their feast.

St Wulfstan of Worcester

It’s always good to celebrate the English saints and today we remember one who is included in the new English Calendar, although he is perhaps not very well known - St Wulfstan of Worcester. Born in Warwickshire around 1008, he joined the Benedictine monastery at Worcester and eventually became Prior. He was well-known for his holiness and asceticism. On one occasion, he was celebrating Mass and was so distracted by the smell of a tasty goose that was being cooked for dinner, that he decided there and then to give up meat and become a vegetarian.

In 1062 he became bishop of Worcester. Four years later the Normans conquered England and St Wulfstan was the only Saxon bishop allowed to remain in office, partly because King William preferred monastic bishops and partly because of his much-admired pastoral care of his flock. One legend relates that the Archbishop of Canterbury doubted his ability and asked St Wulfstan to resign. On hearing this, he rammed his crozier into the stone of the tomb of St Edward the Confessor, the last Saxon King. Rather like King Arthur’s Excalibur, no one could pull it out but St Wulfstan, which was seen as Divine confirmation of his office.

Bishop Wulfstan made Worcester a centre of liturgy and chant, and re-built the Cathedral. There is a rather touching story of the saint shedding tears at the destruction of the old Cathedral, which was the work of saints who knew not how to build fine churches but knew how to sacrifice themselves to God, whatever roof might be over them. Rather remarkably, St Wulfstan preached against the trade of Irish slaves in nearby Bristol and actually managed to stop it.

St Wulfstan died in January of 1095 - according to one tradition he passed away while washing the feet of a dozen poor men, which was his daily custom. Miracles were soon attributed to his intercession, including the healing of King Harold's daughter, and he was canonised by Innocent III in 1203. ‘Bad King John’ had a great devotion to the saint and was buried near his shrine at Worcester.

Blessed Antonio Rosmini

The Church has a new beatus today, Antonio Rosmini, who is greatly venerated in Italy not only as a holy man but as an influential political thinker. Indeed, his role in preparing the way for Italian Unification means that many towns and villages have a 'Via Rosmini'. Of course, he is also a controversial figure who had forty propositions condemned posthumously in 1887. Rosmini was certainly progressive for his times and his interest in democratic movements seemed particularly worrying to his contemporaries. He also attacked a close relationship between Church and State, and criticised the lack of true involvement in the liturgy (though he was not, as some claim, a pioneer of vernacular liturgy).

.

However he was greatly admired by Gregory XVI and Blessed Pius IX. Pope Benedict is in the unusual position of having removed, as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the 'reasons for concern' surrounding Rosmini's works (2001) and now, as Pontiff, approving his beatification. As others have commented, Rosmini's beatification is in itself a miracle!

In England and Wales, we remember Rosmini as the founder of the Institute of Charity (1830). He had a great interest in the conversion of England and sent many of his finest men to the English Mission, such as Luigi Gentili (who, I hope, will one day be beatified) and Giambattista Pagani (a noted spiritual writer). Indeed, the Rosminians claimed to be the first priests in England to wear the Roman collar and preach Missions. Soon after the Institute's foundation, the Fathers of Charity were sent to Prior Park, near Bath, to help Bishop Baines in his ambitious plans for the Western District. However, they fell out and were invited by Ambrose de Lisle to Leicestershire, where they did many works of evangelisation. An impressive College was founded at Ratcliffe and important missions were set up in Newport, Cardiff and London - including my parish of Kingsland, which was cared for by the Rosminians between 1854 and 1874. Shortly before Fr William Lockhart moved to Kingsland, he visited the ailing Rosmini at Stresa and received his blessing for the English Mission. The holy man even hinted that he would like to visit if the opportunity arose. Lockhart was one of the first to translate the works of Rosmini into English and thus popularise his books beyond Italy.

Blessed Antonio Rosmini, pray for us!

Hugh of Lincoln - the first Carthusian Saint

Today we celebrate one of the most attractive of English saints, Hugh of Lincoln. When I say English I mean English by adoption, for he was actually born in Burgundy. He was professed as an Augustinian canon but was so impressed by a visit to La Grande Chartreuse that, at the age of 25, he transferred to the Carthusians, the austere Order recently founded by St Bruno.

We don’t know much about the next ten years, presumably because he lived a strict life of solitude, prayer and manual work. His biographer stated how all sorts of animals were attracted to the garden outside his cell. The saints often have close relations with the natural world and it is fitting that one of St Hugh’s symbols is a swan, referring to the beautiful story of the swan of Stowe (where the saint had a manor) which was inseparable from him and even guarded him while he slept.

Things changed in 1180, when he was chosen to be Prior of the first Carthusian monastery in England – founded by Henry II at Witham, Somerset, in reparation for the murder of St Thomas Becket. He soon became a respected spiritual master, consulted by the King (who was often in the area hunting) and many nobles, and it is little surprising that in 1186 he was appointed bishop of Lincoln. St Hugh reluctantly accepted out of obedience, though he often returned to his Charterhouse for periods of reflection.

At Lincoln St Hugh was largely responsible for the rebuilding of the Cathedral and for the renewal of his diocese, which was the largest in England and round which he tirelessly travelled as shepherd. Indeed, unlike so many other bishops, he was rarely away from his diocese and had a great love for children and the sick, often being seen caring for lepers. He was fearlessly concerned with justice – he defended the rights of the Church and even stopped mobs from attacking the Jews in Lincoln, Stamford and Northampton. Despite his frequent conflicts with three successive Kings, they admired and trusted him; Richard the Lion Heart even observed that ‘if all the prelates of the Church were like him, there is not a king in Christendom who would dare to raise his head in the presence of a bishop.’

St Hugh died on 16 November 1200 at his London residence in Holborn. King John himself helped carry the coffin to its resting place in Lincoln Cathedral and, twenty years later, Bishop Hugh became the first Carthusian saint.

Martyrs in Stained Glass

Flicking through the The Priest, the newspaper for the National Conference of Priests which all English and Welsh priests received this week, I found an advert for a new book, A Celebration of the Martyrs in Stained Glass. It reproduces and explains the beautiful windows designed by Miss Margaret Rope for the crypt of Tyburn Convent, depicting the English Martyrs in the context of the Beatitudes and the Corporal Works of Mercy. Miss Rope is well known to alumni of the Venerable English College, Rome, for she also designed a window of St Ralph Sherwin that is on the College's staircase and her brother was the late, great Fr H.E.G.Rope, M.A., priest, poet, historian and Luddite (!). Anyway, I've just found an informative website about Miss Rope (and her cousin, the other Miss Rope - also an artist), which you can find here.

The book is available from The Bursar General, Tyburn Convent, 8 Hyde Park Place, London W2 2LJ for £10.80 postage and packing included.

Michaelmas

I remember one of my professors in Rome discussing the possibility of life on other planets and he said: of course, the Church does believe in extra-terrestrial intelligent beings and we call them the angels.

Today we celebrate the feast of the angels, especially the three great Archangels of the Bible: Michael, the leader of the Heavenly army and our protector against evil; Gabriel, who brought good tidings to Zechariah and Mary; Raphael, who healed the older Tobias of blindness and protected the younger Tobias on his journey.

Some Christians are embarrassed about belief in angels but, as one writer put it: to deny the angels amounts to tearing every second page out of the Bible. They can indeed be found throughout Sacred Scripture – from the angel of Paradise to the angel of the Apocalypse, from the angels descending and ascending Jacob’s ladder to the angel who sets St Peter free. Angels really exist. They’re not cute or cuddly, like the cherubs on Christmas cards, but awesome and powerful. Throughout Scripture, the appearance of angels results in fear and respect.

There are good angels and bad angels. Each of us experiences a constant struggle against temptation and sin. This is part of a great cosmic battle between good and evil, fought not only in the battleground of our souls but between the two invisible armies of angels and devils. We can’t fully understand it. But we can be assured that the good angels are much the stronger and that they constantly protect and enlighten us. All we need to do is to be aware of this great battle and to use the spiritual armour that God has given us – especially that of prayer and the sacraments.

Holy Michael, the Archangel, defend us in the day of battle. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God cast into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.

English Saints

Yesterday, I visited my aunt and uncle who live in the little Sussex town of Steyning. The splendid medieval church formerly housed the shrine of St Cuthman (see my previous post). Steyning lies in the Adur Valley, so my trip also gave me the chance to have dinner with the parish priest, Fr Sean Finnegan (formerly of Valle Adurni).

Today sees the feast of a very interesting English saint: Theodore of Canterbury, one of the most important of our Primates. He was born at Tarsus (Cilicia), educated at Athens, captured by Persians as a youth and lived as a monk in Rome (probably at Sant' Anastasio, having been driven westwards by the Arab conquests). Pope Vitalian recognised his holiness and ability and so appointed him as Archbishop of Canterbury in 666 (an ominous year!), replacing Wighard, who had died as he made his way to Rome to receive the pallium.

This Greek archbishop remained in England until his death in 690, visiting his Province, setting up a school at Canterbury (including a song school) and organising the Synod of Hertford (672), which helped unify the Roman, Celtic and British elements in the Church and consolidate the jurisdiction of Canterbury. Another synod was held at Hatfield in c.680, resulting in a declaration of orthodoxy in the monothelite controversy (ie the heresy that Jesus had two natures but one will).

It's amazing that one of our greatest Archbishops came all the way from Cilicia to Canterbury in the seventh century, at the bidding of the Pope, demonstrating that England was very much part of the Universal Church.

St Theodore, pray for us!

The Curé d'Ars

Today we celebrate the feast of St John Mary Vianney, who, all these years after his death, is still called the Curé (or Parish Priest) of Ars. This in itself is remarkable – as one writer puts it, ‘his name disappeared in his function’. He was a priest with the cure of souls first; everything else followed.

On paper, it seemed as if the Curé d’Ars' pastoral ministry would not be very fruitful. He only narrowly got through seminary and, because of his poor knowledge of theology, wasn’t even allowed to hear confessions at first! Once in the parish, he often yearned to join a monastery and made plans to run away on two occasions. ‘I should not like to die a Curé’, he once said, and he often noted how few canonised saints have been parish priests. Moreover, he faced many trials. In 1830 a group of parishioners tried to get him removed because he was ‘too strict’ and he even faced rumours of sexual scandal.

However, this simple, semi-illiterate pastor is the patron of parish priests. He won such fame as an insightful confessor, able to read souls, that special trains started running to Ars. He was a man of deep prayer who spent long hours in the Church and, on a number of occasions, had physical encounters with the devil. Whenever he was praised for his holiness and his special gifts, he always tried to detract from himself and focus people’s devotion on his favourite saint, the recently discovered martyr of the catacombs: St Philomena. He inspired his flock with his unsophisticated, accessible sermons. ‘It is all there, my children’, he once said pointing to the tabernacle, ‘What is Our Lord doing in the tabernacle? He is waiting for us’.

Today we pray that the priests of the twenty-first century will follow in the footsteps of the 'Saint Curé', seeking above all else the salvation and cure of souls. May their name – and with it their personal desires – disappear in their function. And, with this in mind, please pray especially for your own Curé - your parish priest.

An Unusual Image of the English Martyrs

Continuing the series of paintings in the choir of Corpus Christi, Krakow, dating from 1624-32, here is what purports to be a most unusual depiction of the English Martyrs. According to the English guide book, the painting shows 'a group of Canons' saints murdered in England in 1572'. The Latin inscription below the picture also clearly links the group of martyrs to England: Milliadena Necat Sancti Gregis Anglia Christo/Non Alit Illa Lupus Induit Ipsa Lupum.

I don't know where 1572 came from - there seems to be no date on the painting or on the inscription. Perhaps the author of the guide book confused the English Martyrs with the group of priests and religious (including two Norbertine Canons) who suffered at Gorkum in the Netherlands in 1572. There were no English Martyrs in 1572.

As far as I know, no Canons Regular suffered for the Faith in England and Wales. Perhaps the seventeenth century canons of Krakow imagined the new breed of seminary priests in distant England to be canons regular and thus depicted them in canons' habits?

British Saints in Krakow

It's amazing what you stumble across on your travels. My favourite church in Krakow was Corpus Christi (above), attached to a house of Canons Regular of the Lateran in the Jewish district. I was first struck by the baroque decoration, including a magnificent pulpit shaped as a ship:

As I walked around the church, guide book in hand, I discovered a huge painting of the martyrdom of St Thomas of Canterbury:


Hmmm, I thought, this is an unusual subject for a Polish church - especially given the painting's size and prominence. Looking more closely, St Thomas' followers are dressed as canons, and I remembered a painting I saw last year at Klosterneuburg in Austria (also a house of canons regular), depicting the saint of Canterbury as a canon:

The choir of Corpus Christi contains some charming seventeenth century paintings and statues of other saints who are claimed by the Canons Regular. Some are rather spurious, including a series of early Popes - such as St Eleutherius (2nd century), who may have sent missionaries to Britain, as requested by King St Lucius:

Then there was St Patrick, shown wearing a huge hat as he drove the snakes from Ireland:

It is unclear whether or not St Patrick was a monk of some sort, but it is likely that he lived in some sort of community of priests at Armagh. Likewise, in Klosterneuburg, he is included in the gallery of sainted canons.

Another Irishman included in the Krakow choirstalls is St Laurence O'Toole, the twelfth century Archbishop of Dublin, who introduced Austin Canons of Arrouaise into the diocese and wore the habit himself. Here he is shown calming a storm:

Less well-known, perhaps, is St John of Bridlington, a fourteenth century Austin canon who was one of the last Englishmen to be canonised (1401) before the Reformation (the last, in 1456, was St Osmund). Here is St John raising the dead to life:

There was one last group of English saints in the choirstalls, but as this is particularly unusual and exciting (at least for hagiologists or antiquarians!) it merits a separate post...

The Doctor of Brindisi

St Lawrence of Brindisi (1559-1619), whose feast it is today, is perhaps the least well-known Doctor of the Church. In fact, unless you're from the Italian town of Brindisi, he isn't exactly an household name.

If he hadn’t joined the Capuchins and taken the name of Lawrence, we would know him by his rather striking baptismal name – Giulio Cesare (Julius Caesar). It would be rather good to have a St Julius Caesar. As a friar, he was known for his linguistic ability (he is said to have known the whole Bible by heart – in its original languages of Hebrew and Greek) and for his apostolate as a preacher. In fact, 804 of his sermons have survived, and these include those preached during the war against the Turks, who were attacking Hungary. At the battle of Stulweissenburg in 1601, he led the Christian army into the fray with no other weapon than a large crucifix. He was also a noted theologian (helped by his linguistic skill), with a particular penchant for Mariology, and held many important positions in his Order.

.

St Lawrence of Brindisi, pray for us!