Boris

I'm up late tonight. Why was Ruth voted off X-Factor; what was that all about?!

Anyway, I'm now watching Boris Johnson's After Rome all about, perculiarly, the bits of the Empire that became Muslim and how they clashed with Christendom. I'm quite touchy about this subject, because there seems to be a blatent bias one way or another. Please watch this on iPlayer if you are able, because in spite of its problems, it's quite interesting.

Several months ago another series, The Art of Spain, focused one episode on the Muslim history of that country, which was very annoying, as it totally misrepresented Spanish history - of which I am a student.

Both programmes highlight a current trendy historiography, that the Muslim world in its infancy was tolerant and democratic - much more civilised than their Christian contemporaries, as Boris notes, "while the people of Oxford were living in huts of wattle and daub, the people of Baghdad were studying the sciences of the east and the Greeks." O, how times have changed.

It is true that the only reason why Oxford developed was because the Spanish re-conquered the Muslim city of Toledo in central Spain, which contained a great library of oriental and Greek works - these flooded Europe, fuelling an intellectual revival. But note: the Muslims didn't have many of their own inventions, rather they looked after everyone elses works. Much of the literary and philosophical Muslim works are Greek in origin, many scientific discoveries are Indian and Chinese.

The original Christians of Spain were not really Christian, they were Aryans (who denied the divinity of Christ) and spoke Gothic. The Muslims of Spain later drank alcohol. I'm thankful that the Mosque of Cordoba is an architecural wonder with a great big Plataresque Catholic Cathedral plonked in the middle of it.

I remember once my tutor argued that the failure of the Muslim was that it was indeed very advanced in its day, but like all civilisations, became decadent and fundamentalist, which stunted its growth. Christendom overtook its former adversary, while the Islamic world remained in its own dark age. Quite interesting, and also demonstrates the idealism of the older Muslim world is nothing more than self-depreciating and misplaced nostalgia.

In Boris's favour, he does frequently highlight the ineptitude of the Muslim world - like many 'nations' at the time, the Muslim rulers were just as ruthless and intolerant as anyone else. Moreover, there was a very slow process of cultural and religious erosion and persecution. Many good Christian martyrs were made in those days.

Spain is a tragedy, one still lived today.

I could go on much longer, but it makes me very stressed. Thank God for Charles Martel - no matter what Boris says: or it could be I'm reading too many Spaniard historians, as one lovely Spanish lady said, the Muslims "where just one more civilisation." Makes you think.

Advent

The sun is creeping towards the ground, and Advent is neigh upon us.

I am preparing a reflection I will lead with the comunity this coming week, and racking my brain on what to do. Advent is such a big topic with so much going on, it is difficult to know where to start. One thing I am aware of though, is my little take home prayer card I like to make for such things. I will reproduce the O Antiphons (I'll write about those in a few weeks perhaps - they have been set to popular music and are now the hymn, O come, O come, Emmanuel) which I think are quite good for prayerful reflections. However, fitting them all on a tiny card is difficult. Moreover, I don't like the translations I have in my own breviary (prayer book) so I have decided I will translate all six of them from the original Latin.

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Vespers is the name for the Church's evening prayer. The Divine Office - as these prayers are known - is said throughout the day, each prayer - or office - being named after the time it is said. On Sundays and special occasions, such as this most noble one, the memorial beings, as in Jewish tradition, at sunset of the night before. Vesper means evening, and the Church prays First Vespers, every Saturday evening, at the lighting of the lamps, when the sun is setting (though usually, any time between 4pm and 6pm).

The Divine Office is an essential part of the liturgy - it sanctifies the day - speading the sacrifice of the Mass out to all corners of the day and night. Priests and relgious are required to say the whole office, lay people are encouraged to say parts of the office, such as prayer in the morning and evening (Lauds and Vespers), or at least commemorate them by regular personal prayer.

As I have lit my lamps...I'd best be off.

I wish a blessed Advent to everyone:

"May the God who gives us peace make you completely his, and keep your whole being, spirit, soul, and body, free from all fault, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you will do it, for he is faithful!"

Learning

Over the past week or so, I have had a little problem which involves reading. I'm all for the Index, and I tend to avoid things which, in my opinion, would be on it if it still existed.

I have this desire to read the God Delusion. I'm not sure why, or where it came from, though I suspect it is because it would be amusing (I would, of course, have to rent it, as I refuse to pay royalty to Dawkins). I'm just afraid what it may lead to. Giving even a deaf ear to the devil is unnecessary. If I had to read it academically, then I would, but for leisure, for whose benefit?

I'm all one for near occasions of sins, and reading dodgy material is placing oneself in a near occasion of sin, but it has lead to me to wonder about some other near occasions of sin in my everyday life.

Facebook, without question.

Perhaps reading the Tablet is the same as attending non-Catholic services, because both erode obedience to the Magisterium of the Roman Pontiff, but I probably wouldn't put every issue of that magazine on the Index.

This is an interesting one: placing oneself together with those one finds attractive is a near occasion of sin. What if they are there at Mass too, and you just happen to sit next to them?

Listening to certain Abba tracks, or any other musical pieces which recall things which were not really very holy.

Wearing bedsocks and using a blanket without due cause, because it encourages idleness in the morning when I don't want to get up because it's just too nice and warm in bed.

Writing late night blogposts which concentrate on sin rather than the saving grace of the Resurrection?

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Talking of near occasions of sin, I am due to give a talk to a group next week on Advent. I do like these talks (this is number two), though they do go very far in aggrevating my inflated pride: it's going to be very hard when I invite a guest speaker.

But anyway, in preparing these talks, I have to be very careful. I have to consider the audience. In forcing some constructive criticism from someone regarding my previous talk, it was suggested I was too high brow. This is not surprising, but one must cater to an audience who is on both ends of the spectrum: a very hard thing to do, a happy equilibrium does not exist.

How do I approach Advent? It is such a big topic to speak for twenty minutes about, can it be summarised that quickly? Attention spans wane after about five minutes, so it has to be active and inclusive, and also encourage those attendees to want to come to the next one.

All these considerations...where's the beef? as Ronald Reagan would have said. Well, I'm going to have to find some room for Jesus in there. I'll let you know...

Hymnarius

I can get very annoyed this time of year, S.A.D. and all. It’s dark; I get lethargic, hungry, tired and angry. I cannot be doing with people who cross me, disagree with me or in any other way provoke me into negative action. The fact that I have no money left does not bode well either.

This has already manifested in various ways at home, but my anger is brewing inside right now, thanks to an external experience. I will now ramble endlessly about it.

This book is the bane of my life.

It contains some good things within it, like all hymnbooks. But this one is particularly bad because it contains misinformation about Mass settings. The choir in my little community is hopefully going to be able – within a few months of practice – to sing the ordinary of the Mass according to the Gregorian tradition. Now in this Laudate are a good number of Mass settings, unfortunately, these Mass settings are not in themselves good. What is there? Well, there is the Gathering Mass (spew) and the Mass of Creation (cringe), and shoved towards the end, just before the Taizé alleluias is the Missa de Angelis, which you can find as number 8 in your Kyriale. This is a very nice Mass, but I was horrified a few years ago when someone educated thought that it was the only universal sung Latin Mass available to the Church.

The fact that the Missa de Angelis is number 8 indicates there are more – there are, in fact, 18 Gregorian Mass settings. In the rest of the Laudate is the Kyrie from the Missa Orbis Factor (number 11), and a mystery Sanctus and Agnus Dei, which are labeled as 16, but are in fact from Missa pro defunctis, which is number 18.

I don’t have any problem with different music – in fact, I applaud the proliferation of musical forms since the Council of Trent, Mass settings among them. However, there is such a rich and varied tradition in the Church, why always stick to the same, rather awful settings composed in the last thirty years, and not encourage the singing of ancient music, some of which would have been familiar to the early Church, even to the Apostles in some cases.

The same applies to hymns. I have a problem with hymns being sung all the time for every occasion (why an entrance hymn, why an offertory hymn, why a Communion hymn, cui bono?). There are many really good hymns; there are many really bad ones. I find most of the bad ones are organised to be sung for no apparent reason, other than people know them. In my experience, many people do not know the hymns the liturgists think they do.

I my view, the method of picking hymns should be thus:

1. Familiarity of hymns (though this is not an impediment; people only learn stuff by practicing regularly, and they pick up tunes very quickly, so this is not a long process)

2. That these hymns be in concord with Church tradition and orthodoxy (some in the Laudate do not coincide entirely in some matters, particularly the ones related to the Eucharist)

3. That they apply to what they are representing or replacing. All hymns are not derived from the readings of the Mass – by doing this, one gets the same old justice and peace hymns (i.e. Gather us in and Follow me) every week. An entrance hymn replaced the antiphon of the Mass, the Communion hymn replaces the Communion antiphon, an offertory hymn should preferably match the style and content of the ‘offertory’ offered in the Gradual (which is the music which should be used in the Mass regularly according to Vatican II), providing much variety. The recessional hymn can fulfil the ad lib requirement inherent to liturgists.

4. The nature of the season. Hymns for Lent, Advent, Easter, Christmas and so forth should take precedence over other hymns (in most hymnbooks, seasonal hymns are listed in their own respective sections). This way, one need not hear Gather us in for about half the year, and going just on the readings is not sufficient a form of judgment. Having said that, this does not give authority for the same hymn to be sung every week in ordinary time; just because it is a morning Mass does not mean a weekly rendition of Morning has broken.

5. The nature of the celebration (i.e. is it a Mass for Confirmations, for Weddings etc).

The rule of thumb is not to sing anything to slow and boring, neither too jazzy nor clappy. Prayerful singing is neither about falling asleep nor getting the juices flowing, rather it’s about configuring oneself to a gentle, prayerful, attentive attitude.

Does anyone else have any other rules of thumb or musical views? It would be good to hear if you do.

I have to work under other people’s conditions however, and the Laudate must be used. From next year, I hope that the choir will be able to sing the entire Missa de Angelis at least once. During this Lent, I will lobby for the Kyrie Missa Orbis Factor, and the Sanctus and Agnus Dei Missa pro defunctis (because, for some reason, the Kyrie 18 is nowhere to be found). I also hope, as Kyrie 11 is quite short, that it will be used more regularly. I will keep you posted.

I have calmed down now.

Celibacy

I have been thinking about celibacy a lot recently, perhaps as it is something which seems more real now than it did before. Then, it was just some theory, an abstract idea that I happened to try and practice. Now, it seems more real, something which is not an option, but something one must do. I have a habit of rebelling against authority.

I thought before I reflect my own feelings on celibacy [having written, I feel I didn't get to say everything, so I may return to it], I should give a definition and description, in the light of the Church. Unfortunately, I only have my Compendium and selection of documents with me here (my catechism is elsewhere for the moment), and the Bibile, of course so I will have to make do with them.

The compendium asks two questions relating to celibacy, though both are very limited in their spectrum:

“334. Is it necessary to be celibate to receive the sacrament of Holy Orders?

It is always necessary to be celibate for the episcopacy. For the priesthood in the Latin Church men who are practicing Catholics and celibate are chosen, men who intend to continue to live a celibate life “for the kingdom of heaven.” In the Eastern Churches marriage is not permitted after one has been ordained. Married men can be ordained to the permanent diaconate.

342. Are all obliged to get married?

Matrimony is not an obligation for everyone, especially since God calls some men and women to follow the Lord Jesus in a life of virginity or of celibacy for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven. These renounce the great good of Matrimony to concentrate on the things of the Lord and seek to please him. They become a sign of the absolute supremacy of Christ’s love and of ardent expectation of his glorious return.”

Well, that certainly outlines the basics. Cormac said once, “you get more priests when there are a really fervent, devoted Catholic people.”

Some may be upset when I suggest that there is an authority greater than the Cardinal, but there is, one of whom is called St Paul. He was also celibate, and to the Corinthians, he writes, “I wish you were all in the same state as myself; but each of you has his own endowment from God; one to live in this way, another in that… the part which God has assigned, the vocation which God has bestowed, is to be the rule in each case…

“He who is unmarried is concerned with God’s claim; whereas the married man is concerned with the world’s claim, asking how he is to please his wife; and thus he is at issue with himself…I am thinking of your own interest when I say this. It is not that I would hold you in a leash; I am thinking of what is suitable for you, and how you may best attend the Lord without distraction.”

The bishop of Nottingham recently said that the celibate priesthood is not a matter of doctrine or theology, but one of discipline. The whole Church is inclined to agree with this, but his statement does underline the misunderstanding – even among Catholics – of the differences between doctrine and discipline (for example, priestesses is a doctrinal issue, whereas celibacy is not), in the popular response to what he said (especially as he made comments on the other issue previously – bishop McMahon has an interesting orthodoxy, one which makes many people scratch their heads, and leads me to think that there is much more variety than traddy and trendy). A friend of mine once said that they would prefer priestesses to a non-celibate clergy, thus demonstrating this lack of understanding.

The bishop is correct in his initial assertion, however. People must understand that celibacy is a disciplinary issue, but this does not water the whole thing down: it is still very important.

All the post-concilliar Popes have upheld this teaching; Pope Benedict described celibacy as a “priceless treasure”, as understood in the west.

This east-west distinction is often made, because it is a pertinent one, especially as we are taught that east and west are the two lungs of the same church – how can both organs have a different understanding?

Well, that is an easy one to answer. In the east of course, married men are allowed to become priests (and only men). Once one is a priest, however, one cannot marry. These celibate priests are often (but not exclusively as was once the case) monk-priests, ones who deal with the deeper spiritual needs of the people, whereas the married priests are often degraded to liturgy providers. It is only from the celibate clergy that the ranks of bishops are chosen – there can never be a married bishop.

This was the case in the western Church until the twelfth century. For a century, the monastic clergy around Rome had gained significant influence in the Papal court, leading to many reforms in the Church. The secular clergy were becoming increasingly corrupt – financially and sexually – and the issue had to be remedied else the Church become an inhibition to the Gospel. The Roman clergy therefore petitioned at the first Lateran Council for the celibacy (well, chastity) rule of the religious to be extended to the universal Church, thus specifically outlawing the practice of concubinage, and, as one put it, let the faithful know that the hands touching the Sacred Body of the Lord on the altar had not been corrupted by the priest’s concubine the night before.

Nine hundred or so years later, and the practice is still with us. It has become a necessary part of the western understanding of priesthood. One cannot simply reverse these centuries of praxis because it is popular now. One also cannot re-mould a Church in the manner it was cast, once the shape has been changed. If the west were to have a married presbyterate, then the model should be the eastern clergy, not the western protestant ‘ministers’, as I fear it would be, for this was not born out of the whole Church tradition (east or west), and is an invention born of heresy. For the one, true Church to adopt this principle without consultation would be a disastrous sign to the faithful.

One must also make a clear distinction between east and west. Though we are of the same body, and both Churches are legitimate and naturally organic, they need not be of the same practice, especially as they have been virtually self-sufficient for half their lives. Celibacy is one example of this self-sufficiency, and therefore, I will here put the east-west division to rest, and talk now only of the Latin practice

A priest is a man who is configured to Christ. He is not a liturgy presider nor a social worker (neither is he a wizard with magical powers), but one who acts for the faithful, in the person of Christ. The sacrament of ordination confers special graces on a man who is called to this duty (and called: clerical order is a gift, not a right, bestowed by God through the Church), thus the inward configuration takes place. One way in which this configuration is manifested is the outward denial of corporeal satisfaction, which is commonly found within marriage. However, even in marriage, one is called to chastity (or at least significant self-denial), and donning a white dress for one day goes not give a free ticket to sexual licentiousness. Marriage and celibacy are not easier than one another, but are similar in essence. For the celibate cleric, his spouse is the flock he ministers to (though I detest the phrase “married to the Church”, because that demonstrates a misunderstanding again). Without a wife, he is able to focus more intently on their needs, but also become more inwardly configured day by day as he lives out a life practiced by Jesus – a celibate one.

Now, I live in the United Kingdom, where many people have experiences of a married clergy. Back in the 90s, when the Anglicans decided to ‘ordain’ women, a flood of Anglican clergy joined the Catholic Church. The Church, however, does not recognise Anglican ordination, and so those clergy who wished to continue in clerical ministry should be retrained and ordained. Many of these clergymen, though, were married men, and so a special indult was given to the Church to enable her to ordain them. This option, however, is only open to former Anglican clergymen who are married. Catholic married men are not covered by this permission.

First of all, I agree with the original sentiment of the permission. It seems unfair to take away so much heritage from the Church unilaterally, and it also recognised the invalidity of Anglican sacraments. But this was an exceptional circumstance; the permission should have had a sunset clause in it, or at least the Church should have been less willing to ordain men who, say, had found another job, and set up a new life as a ‘layman’, but ten years down the line, decided to be ordained again. The bishop of Nottingham stated that because of this peculiarity – one not found around the world – celibacy had become a matter of justice. This is true, I think, because the Church allows some of her married children to be ordained and others not – over a disciplinary, non-doctrinal matter. Some existing priests feel this is unfair. It should be noted, however, that if the rules were to change, then they would still not be permitted to marry because they are already priests. I don’t feel it is a matter of justice or fairness because the Church chooses who she is to ordain, not the ordinands themselves (the Church is not an equal opportunities employer), and also, that the Church’s belief in this is not misplaced, but the continued practice of permitting ordaining these married men is. Is the Church, by moving further away from the original purpose of this permission, treating its neighbours better than her own children?

This practice has lead some in the Catholic to used the example of a married clergy to justify their own distorted opinion (many are somehow able to relate this to women). A married priest is no less devout, no less able than a non-married priest. Why cannot they all be married? Surely, not being able to marry makes priests sad people?

Well, surprise surprise, not all priests actually want to get married. Second, the married clergy is an extraordinary situation, not the normal practice (and an expensive situation at that). Third, I see many sad married people. Fourth, the example found in one small part of the Church because of a local, geographical peculiarity cannot be used to change the entire Church. Think outside the box. This is something many people are unable to do for some reason – that the practice down their own street is the one everybody else should conform to because they think it is a good thing to do, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. Imperialism or what?

A married priest can have the same focus on and configuration to Christ as an unmarried one, but why make this the normal practice? There is nothing to suggest that having a married presbyterate would do anything to change the shortage of priests (which is also, a geographical peculiarity).

And why is shortage of priests a problem? It denies frequent reception of the sacraments to the faithful. Yes, well, really we do not have a terrible shortage in the UK, certainly compared to other parts of the world now and the situation here a century ago. Not so long ago, many people were denied the sacraments for years and years because one priest was dispatched to cover county wide areas. In mission parts of the world, the situation is the same today, if not worse. Perhaps the first thing to do is reconfigure the faithful to an understanding that the world is not going to end if there is not a priest to celebrate Mass every single day – even every single week – and it is the inward intention (and configuration) and prayer which the Lord is most appreciative of. He understands if there are not enough priests to celebrate Mass, or if you are unable to travel long distances to reach one.

This understanding has been distorted at some point along the line. Now, this translates into we have no priest, so let us have a ‘Service of Word and Communion’. This is perhaps necessary in large communities on, say a Sunday, if the priest has been caught in a snow storm, but not every Monday because it is Father’s day off, and every other Thursday because Father has to be in St X’s Church on that week.

Another manifestation is the lay liturgist. Now, there is nothing wrong with them (or should I say us!) per se, rather the layperson should realise that when it comes to the sacraments, the priest is in charge, in the person of Christ. If Father wants to change the parish practice, then the parish practice is changed. However, this priestly power is abused by those who do not have sufficient love for his flock, and humility within himself. I am getting a little off topic here.

What I mean to talk about is lay responsibility, which does not mean those things I have outlined above. It means laypeople taking an active role in administration and execution – especially those things which Father does not need to involve himself with. However, having big titles for laypeople often means big money and expenses. Laypeople working for the Church, in my view, should make similar sacrifices as the priest, especially in terms of personal finance. The Church cannot afford to employ laypeople for many posts (just imagine the Vatican treasury emptying into the pocket of many a Tablet reader if the Archbishop of wherever was not in charge of paper clip procurement); priests are cheaper – maybe laypeople should be cheaper too.

Priests and laypeople should both be aware that the former is the spiritual leader of the community, not the administrator, or ‘in charge’. Both should be more willing to engage in genuine and loving co-operation: I fear many laypeople are ignorant of this, whereas some priests take it too far.

How do we find ways to discuss this issue?

Well, I can write about it, and Tablet readers can have opinions. But it is not going to do anything about it. The lack of priests problem – and it is a serious problem – is not going to be solved by having more lay-led liturgies. We do need more priests, and the lack of them is a problem within out society, not in the presbyterate. There are many men who are not encouraged enough by the Church to be priests; I don’t think the Church takes it seriously enough: “it’s all about our feelings”, as an abbot sarcastically jibed to me once.

Is that rebelling against authority? Some would say no, I would say yes, because I am of the opinion not enough is being done, and too much skirting around issues is being done by those in charge, creating false and pointless policies for short term benefits (and then, not really benefits, more effects).

Paul VI said live in the today. I agree entirely. Live in today, not some fairyland called the real world with its secular temptations and views. The real world is yet to come. For once, I agree with Cormac.

Dream

I suffer from S.A.D. So if anyone in my area has a high intensity light box, I would appreciate it!

This results in insomnia: "you drive me crazy, I just can't sleep," to quote Britney Spears.

Anyway, I used to have a recurring dream, and earlier I was asked what one of my dream lives would be, so after a discussion, I thought I'd let everyone else know.

I probably live in Paris, working as an art or antique merchant, or perhaps in a gallery; I'm thinking the Louvre. It is a nice part of Paris, right in the middle - which is mostly all revivial baroque or arte nouveau. I would live in a little apartment in this building which is also home to a selection of other people of greater interest than myself. My little bedsit would be quite far up - one would need to use the old fashioned lift to reach it. When one opened the door, one would find an open plan room. On the right would be a seating, lounge area surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with untouched books. A small well upholstered sofa (maybe some nice green damask, with mahogany or stained oak frame) against the wall, and a mahogany buro in the corner. The bookcases would be broken up by an occasional picture up on the wall; the ceiling would be quite low on that side because it is vaulted to accomodate the sloping roof (I'm on the top floor).

On the right as you go in is the bedroom. It is quite dark in here, because there is only a little window. A T.V. is on the wall, and there is a nice big roll top teak sleigh bed against the opposite wall, with matching bedside tables. The wallpaper is red flock (yes I know, far too much in a small dark room). The lamps are cream, and the bedding too - but with stylisitc satin stripes in it. A wardrobe over there, a picture and mirror over there - a small but elegant crystal chandelier would be suspended from the ceiling (which was mysteriously higher than the other room) supported by a large white ceiling rose. On the other wall would be a small door leading to the en-suite, which is the only bathroom in the flat, though no bath: there is a just a small toilet, sink and shower, with a window and towel warmer. A mirror cabinet - but definately not matching sinks, I do hate them! Quite stylishly done.

In the middle of the main room would be a little square oak or teak table with two chairs, probably with a distressed candle holder on it, maybe some fresh flowers. The chairs would have matching upholstered green damask cushions. The back wall will be very long, mostly covered in bookshelves though. To the left of this room would be the kitchenette with a little window at the top: a little oven and two little hobs and a sink, maybe a small fridge and a washing machine. On the right of the room would be a gust of warm summer breeze coming in through a small door: this leads to the little balcony.

Out here there is a little white distressed metel table and two matching chairs, on which are cream and red stripy cushions. There is just a room for a few small pots out here too. From here one can see Paris, from a very beautiful and probably impossible angle. But hey, what does that matter when the rest is a dream too!

So that's my dream.

Snow

I woke up this morning to find someone had kidnapped me and taken me to Lapland. It is snowing pretty hard now again, covering up all the footprints and tracks made earlier in the day. Snow is really a very beautiful thing; it reminds me of my favourite psalm:

"Cleanse me with hyssop, Lord, and I shall be clean. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."

It is like the whole land has been stained white by the blood shed for our sins.

I caught the start of this sin fluff last night while walking home. Where was I, so late? I went to see the new Bond film. I quite like James Bond, because he is just so cool, and every boy wants to grow up to be him (and when boys do grow up, they think they are him).

I was a bit concerned when Casino Royale came out, and not keen on the choice of Bond - though I do find Mr Craig a wonderful actor and really nice man, but a blonde Bond?

Anyway, I had heard Quantum of Solace was a complex film (resulting in the enevitable, 'what's going on' lines), but the complexity was necessary, and good for the general plot - which on the whole was quite easy to follow (though I can understand if one has not seen the last film). I especially thought 'M' had a particularly good role, something very postive as I am a fan of Judi Dench.

The most exciting bit about film at the moment, is of course, the fact that Mamma Mia is out on DVD this week! But for now, I shall stick to Ken Brannagh's Henry V.

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I was quite bored on campus recently. My eyes happened to be glancing towards the prayer over the gifts for the thirty third Sunday in ordinary time (last week), which was in the Tablet. The article itself was explaining the translation, but I decided to retranslate it myself without reading the article first.

Lord God,
may the gifts we offer increase our love for you,
and bring us
to eternal life.

Very good, in itself, though it does remind me of a typical prayer the ICEL would sanction which was jokingly composed recently:

O God,
you are big.
Make us big
like you.

In translation, I have tended to focus on the ordinary parts - those which are said every day - but have forgotten the propers - the bits that change. These are just as shocking as the former mistranslations. In fact, the prayer for that week reads:

Concede, quaesumus, Domine,
ut oculos tuae maiestatis manus oblatum,
et gratiam nobis devotionis obtineat,
et effectum beatae perennitatis acquirat.

I got to work and produced the following:

Grant, we pray you, Lord,
that the gift offered [or raised/lifted] to the eyes of your majesty,
may obtain for us the grace of devotion,
and aquire for us the effect of blessed eternity.

Now that sounds like a prayer.

Demons

My insistence on using one-word titles in this blog is exhausting my own ability. I may change my policy come the new year. Today however, I have a few comments to make, most of which are television related.

First: I watched television. This is quite a rare thing for me to do in the evening. But tonight saw the second episode of Apparitions, which I wrote about the other day. The first episode I thought was very good, save the last fifteen minutes or so. This episode left a little more to be desired as the BBC made a few overly expected comments.

The police woman investigating the murder of the seminarian from the last episode sarcastically enquired into the Church's views on homosexuality: "so do you allow that sort of thing now?" An interesting view which was effectively rubbished by Father Martin Shaw/Jacob. She did, however take an interest in exorcism and the communion of saints.

Pius XII made a big appearance this week. Near the start, I was quite shocked by the comments over his alledged anti-semitism; the monsignorial exorcist, after discovering the Lord of Flies in the confessional (and the smell with it), said it reminded him of the smell in St Peter's when Pius started to decompose before the eyes of the faithful (which is correct, and I understand it did smell, due to the botched embalming process), but he implicitly stated the smell was the same: that of Satan. The implications of this comment are big, as it suggests the presence of Satan in the bodily remains of Pius. I was quite shocked, but it made sense at the end, and everything was ok. "God willing", the poor sister said, Pius is a saint.

It also showed that the St Michael prayer does not always work (also, glad to see Father Jacob use the same formula as I do), and makes Satan very angry...though I think it was interesting how his victim was named Michael, which perhaps went some way in saving him.

Not wishing to spoil it for those who have not seen it (if you would rather not read the end before watching, skip this paragraph)....Michael - the killer from the first episode - was exorcised and cured (and got away with the murder). This exorcism was done with Father Jacob and the victim from last week (the little girl's father) who is an unbeliever. I enjoyed the comment from Father, "just read the lines", as it expresses very well the essence of such liturgical celebrations. Yes, the bits can be said by anyone - the magic still happens if the hands of the priest are there acting the person of Christ.

The anti-Vatican-ness is stil gut-wrenching however.

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Sticking with television, I also watched Question Time with some of my confused housemates. I really enjoy this show, but I was quite annoyed this week. The first topic was the publication of the 12,000 or so names of British National Party members. One policeman was on said list, who was suspended from the police earlier. The reason for this, so the government minister (and the rest of the panel) said, was because a policeman represents a tolerant, multicultural society should not be a member of this party. The actual reason for this (which I have been arguing all day) is that a policeman cannot join any political party because he is an agent of the state - in the same way that prison guards and civil servants cannot join parties, whether they be racist or not. This guideline was completely mis-represented by every single panelist (which included representives from the Conservatives, Lib Dems, SNP as well as Labour and the Daily Mail).

The other point raised here was whether teachers should be permitted to join the BNP. This is a very thin and dangerous line to follow. A teacher is not an agent of the state: if one thinks this is the case, then the liberal state has gone horribly wrong somewhere. If anyone else can join this party, then teachers should be entitled to do so - and join any other party. The only circumstance whereby I envisage a teacher unable to do this is if the party itself were banned. One is entitled to do this in a free liberal state - it is a valid option - but picking and chosing in such a relativist manner is shocking.

Finally with this programme...the minister on the panel jokingly suggested that the Strictly judges should be sacked instead of John Sergeant (who I feel was wrong to leave the programme, but is edified in doing so). The headline on the BBC imediately afterwards was: "Sack Strictly judges - minister...a cabinet minister has called for the judges of Strictly Come Dancing to be sacked following John Sergeant's decision to quit the BBC One show."

More corporate mis-represention I feel.

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Some readers (I hope I have more than 3!) may have noticed a small change in the layout. I have included in the frontispiece an image of an icon of the Lord calling Peter and Andrew (it could be James and John), which is one of the times he cries, "sequere me." I haven't decided whether I like it yet, so it may disappear. Let me know if you have any strong views on the subject, or any other similar aspect.

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Finally, thankfully, today was the feast of Saint Edmund King and Martyr according to the local calendar (it's always good when these things happen). Saint Edmund was the King of East Anglia in the ninth century, crowned by Saint Humbert (pronounced Humbrecht in English), bishop of his country. He was proper German (from Nuremburg), though adopted by the previous king and elected himself king at a very young age. He made annual retreat in Hunstanton (of all places), could recite the Psalter by heart, and was a just and loving king.

He so loved his people, he defended his nation when it was under attack by the pagan Danes who had travelled from Jorvik to subdue their English rivals. They met at Thetford, and Edmund lost the battle, though he was taken prisoner. He refused to recant his faith in Jesus Christ, neither did he sign over his kingdom to these pillaging Vikings, who tied him to a tree and showered him with arrows, granting him the satisfaction of a martyr's glorious death.

His relics are enshrined in Saint Edmundsbury (erronously called Bury St Edmunds by the state). He is also the secondary patron of my own diocese, after Saint Felix, the first bishop of East Anglia. We are fortunate in this part of the world to have a small number of saints, who were of this soil (well, lived on it at least) - some maryrs, some confessors and virgins - but all the same, it makes our little corner-of-the-world Church seem very special.

Controversial

I did something very wierd the other day (in fact, yesterday). I found a link on Mulier Fortis telling the world about another projecting dishing out saints for people for the upcoming year. Given where the suggestion came from, I thought I'd take a look, and being rather late at night, I put my little request on the list. I thought it would be a good idea, as the name I think is picked at random to some extent, and given the anonymity, I assume the Holy Spirit moved a little bit in the hat.

Today my saint for 2009 came through: Saint Isaac Jogues.

I had never heard of him, and he was not in my books of saints, so I had to consult less orthodox sources. Though Isaac was my greatgrandfather's name.

Having said the Holy Spirit was moving - I agree entirely that he was, and that he has a sense of humour as dry as my own.

St Isaac was a Jesuit from Orléans. He left his homeland in 1636 for the New World to preach to the Indians in North America. He was quickly captured by the Mohawks and tortured, his consecration fingers cut off. In spite of this, he was not killed, but laboured as a slave until he was rescued by some Dutchmen and taken to New Amsterdam, from where he returned to France. Upon his arrival, he was lauded as a living martyr, and given Papal dispensation to say Mass.

In spite of his experiences, he returned to the New World, with other missionaries, and along with two others, he was captured again by the Mohawks in present day New York, clubbed and beheaded, being born into the Kingdom of Heaven on 18th October 1646 aged 39. He is one of eight North American Martyrs, who are all French Jesuits. Their feast is kept on 19th October in the General Calendar.

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Today is a day remembered for other reasons, and it is a very important anniversary too for 450 years ago, a woman and her cousin died.

This woman was Queen Mary and her cousin was Reginald Cardinal Pole, Archbishop of Canterbury.

Mary is rememberd in bad light, the Bloody Mary, persecuter of Protestants. Well, I could mention that, but I will leave it out for the time being (it's all relative). She died this day in 1558 during the consecration of Holy Mass which was being said in her chamber at the same time. She was monarch at a difficult time. The Protestant Reformation was taking hold in England, especially after the dramatic reforms (the real Protestant Reformation) of her brother, which removed the last vestiges of Catholicism in the country. The Lord saw fit to call him from this life, allowing Mary to become Queen (despite his will to permit neither Mary nor Elizabeth to succeed) - the daughter of the saintly Katherine of Aragon. She was not, however, permitted to reign for long. Her husband Philip (who unlike our current Philip was legally titled King within the country) was the crown prince of Spain (later Philip II - in spite of what is suggested here, was a very holy and humble man) was not in love with her, and married her for her massive dowry. After planting his seed, he left again for Spain. She quickly sought to restore Catholicsm in England within the framework established by her predecessors, and appointed two Catholic bishops, Gardiner (who crowned her) and later Pole. We are not sure of the cause of her death, though it was likely to be some homonal disorder (though my old history teacher insisted she died of a broken heart - I can attest to that testament!). She is buried alongside her sister in Westminster Abbey. You have to pay to venerate her (and St Edward for that matter), but say you're a Catholic on pilgrimage and they should be able to sort you out without extorting all your money.

Pole was appointed to Canterbury. His mother was a martyr in the Henrican Reformation, and was a Roman cleric. At this time, Cranmer was Archbishop of Canterbury (though a Protestant, a valid bishop), though he was removed from his office again (he had previously been excommunicated 2 years earlier) by the Pope after Mary was crowned. He recanted his previous actions and recieved absolution, and was admitted to the Sacraments, though imediately before he was executed, he changed his mind, and was burned after calling the Pope the Antichrist. Again. He had been the only Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury.

Anyway, the next day, Pole arrived in Lambeth Palace. He had been exiled from England at the start of the Protestant Reformation, and eventually found himself as the Papal legate at the Council of Trent (which came with a red hat). He was certainly instrumental in the Council. Thanks to him, we have seminaries, confessional boxes and tabernacles on the altar (all proud English inventions; use 'em). He was nearly even elected Pope (buying Papal vestments in anticipation too!), but needless to say, he was not even a priest. Instead, he ended up in England as Papal Legate, was ordained and established a Legatine council (something which should happen more regularly nowadays) to repudiate the naughty English bishops. He himself became the head of their college in 1556, though reigned only for two years. Six hours after his Queen died over the river in London, he died in Lambeth Palace. Both are surely with the Lord now. He is buried in his Cathedral at Canterbury. 10 more Catholic bishops died after him, the last dying in 1585 (which was Thomas Goldwell).

Sing

I am a bit gutted.

I forgot until this moment that my favourite hymn is Praise to the Lord (Lobbe den Herren). I had a very good opportunity to have it sung for Mass at Christ the King, but I missed it. Now we are going to have to enjoy The Kingdom of God is justice and joy. At least we will not be intoning our plea for forgiveness for overfilling our kettles.

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Happy Advent and New Year to everyone in Milan. Ambrosians may have a shorter Lent, but at least they have more time to wrap yourself in the Coming of the Lord at this lovely time of year.

Talking of St Ambrose. Like he, I quite enjoy the Song of Songs - usually when unnecessary, because we probably both see the story of salvation history reflected in the few pages of this poem.

When I was younger (that 19), I stupidly assumed everybody had children when they grew up. I always wanted on of my children to be called Ambrose. In fact, I would have liked all my children to be named selfishly. I was quite fond of Gregory, Jerome (that's Jerrum, not Jurh-ohm), Nicholas, Alexander and Felix. And for middle names, it would have to be Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, followed by Mary obviously. And for the girls, it would have to have been Mary, Martha and Teresa.

But that's enough of being broody.

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Sometimes I wonder how long I've been listening to this Podcast that I've got on...he's going off on one in Latin again.

Apparitions

The unclean spirit which has possessed a man, and then goes out of him, walks about the desert looking for a resting-place, and find none; and it says, I will go back to my own dwelling, from which I came out. And it comes back, to find that dwelling swept out, and neatly set in order. Thereupon, it goes away and brings back seven spirits more wicket than itself to bear it company, and together they enter in a settle down there; till the last state of that man is worse than the first.

I have just returned from the seminary, where which there was much talk of the new drama, Apparitions. I didn't watch it the first time round, but I've just managed to catch up on it. It stars Judge John Deed (a.k.a. Martin Shaw) as an exorcist of a seminary in London (I will mention some of the interesting questions raised at the real seminary later).

This episode traced a little girl who had some connection with Blessed Theresa (whose death was shown at the start of the episode). Also at the start, was the curing of a young leper, who was one of the main characters from the seminary. He was tormented by demons, and requested his ordination be put off (whether that was the diaconate or presbyterate was not mentioned).

Meanwhile, the father of the little girl is possessed. Father Martin Shaw quotes the reading from Luke shown at the top, as it was a page ripped out the Bible by the man involved (he was baptised ilicitly by the Missionaries of Charity when he was injured in India - hence his possession) and the show's point in following the judge's attempts to exorcise the demon within him.

Anyway, during an exorcism, the bloke tells Martin Shaw that said ex-leper is gay (which the spiritual director of a man approaching ordination should know already). Some cardinal from the Causes of Saints turns up and tells him that he cannot be ordained as a result, which sends the poor guy of the rails, and essentially, he ends up dead (how the cardinal can overrule the diocesan bishop I just don't understand). The demon that has being tormenting him was, in fact, a real person. But I shall leave the other details to your own perusal.

Two points popped up in my mind while watching (apart from the mystery prevention-of-ordination order - otherwise the programme was quite accurate, with the exception of some things: spot them if you dare!).

The ex-leper was cured by God, according the film. I don't really doubt that point; he himself believed he was cured by the devil, which I suppose cannot really happen with God's approval for some reason, as the devil cannot create (i.e. create perfect skin, a cured body). Why, though, if he was cured by God, did he still not have all his fingers (which itself should have been a prevention of ordination)? Was this a sign from God to remind him of where he came from (which doesn't seem very Godly to me), or was it evidence that the devil cured him, thus couldn't make the cure complete? My own theory is that his fingers were kept incomplete by God to prevent him sinning towards the end of the film (watch it and see if you agree - if it is still on the internet by then!). This itself is shakey, because he died anyway in a rather unnecessarily horrific way.

The other question is telephone sacraments. Namely, as confession's matter and form are not physical things (as the matter and form of baptism are water and words, one cannot do this on the phone), but all all-word matter and form: can one do this on the telephone? I seem to recall that John Paul II forbade absolution on the internet, but I think it was unclear whether he invluded the phone. Would a phone absolution make it invalid (which I don't agree with) or just ilicit (which I do agree that it would be)? It certainly depends on the intention. If I were a priest taking a call from a hostage on a plane about to be crashed (where he would most certainly die), I would personally feel required to hear the confession and give absolution - or at least an Apostolic Pardon. This is the imediate danger of death the law talks about, and is probably neither invalid nor ilicit. But as the phone confession in the film is not in danger of death, perhaps it made the sacrament invalid. Hmm, and interesting one - one which the writer probably didn't invisage really - but maybe, this is why this exorcism failed. That and the fact that the other priest was on the phone too, and so it was a long distance exorcism (though it is not a sacrament, and I don't think the Church has proclaimed something on this). We shall never know...

It probably all doesn't make sense if you haven't seen it. For the BBC, it is very good, and quite tame. In fact, I'm very surprised a the lack of anti-Catholic-ness, though there is a good dollop of let's-pretend-the-Vatican-is-inhibiting-the-freely-given-grace-of-God viewpoint.

It also made me think about Satan. It is very sad when people think about Satan all the time and not about God - this is clearly his work. However, one must not forget that Satan is very real indeed, and walks among us. He probably doesn't do all the things in this programme very often, but he certainly works away at us, chipping away at our faith and our love, using ourselves against us. Durr, he did it in the garden of Eden, and he is still doing it today. Satan and his fallen angels are very clever indeed. We must not forget that they have a very nasty agenda: and we are point number one.

Chocolate

I enjoy cooking. I have just made one of my specialities (which are usually cakes, or creamy sauces): Potato cake.

This time, I have made chocolate orange potato cake. Most people tend to shy away from my potato cakes, for they expect a stodgy mess, but it is one of the lightest chocolate cakes I can make. I really have never understood why something hard and starchy like a potato can make something light a fluffy like a scrumptious cake. But it does. I think it goes beyond potatoes: it is just one of those things that God just made happen for no real reason, except that to remind us that sometimes, we need to be harsh for the greater good.

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In other news, something happened to me today. I really did hurt myself on the bus, when I bashed my knee on the bannister on the stairs. I did too exclaim in agony, then waddled away in embarresment. The thing is, I'm not really sure why this knee is bad, as it is not even my genuflection knee. Highly unusual indeed.

But anway, that is not my real news. Rather, today I began the formal process in my application to begin priestly formation. It is only a formality, but still a big step in an agonisingly long journey.

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St Josephat was an oriental bishop during the Catholic Reformation; today is his feast day. He is a great symbol for Christian unity. He is one of the few people the whole Church remembers today who is a martyr of the eastern Churches from the time of the Reformation. The history of this period is a bit of an interest of mine, and it saddens me greatly when people talk only of the Reformation in England, or even anywhere in western Europe, for the movements even made it into the eastern communities. This ignorance of reality is something reflected in our own lives today, because ecumenism has become a byword for Catholics to occasionally attended Protestant services - usually in the week of Christian unity.

While this has his merits, I'm sure St Josephat would be saddened by what the movement has become. I'm not sure genuine Christian unity is found in for-the-sake-of-it outward expression: St Josephat, while a Catholic, was not a Latin Catholic, and I am very thankful that he, and many other of our oriental brethren are rememberd in the west.

He was an obsessive corporal mortifyer - to the destain of his Jesuit teachers - and was shot and axed by an Orthodox mob in 1623.

Stamps

Why do I do these things?

I have just bought 100 stamps.

Why, I hear you cry.

Well, I am a bit of a secret stamp collector, but that is not the reason I spend my money recklessly.

This year, the Christmas stamps feature a selection of gaudy pantomine scenes, and I do find this appropriate for Christmastide.

Last years Christmas stamps featured the Madonna and Child (in two forms) and three varieties of angels on other stamps. These are still available for purchase. I have bought fifty first class stamps and fifty second (both of which feature different Madonnas), so that I may use these this Christmas.

I certainly do not, however, have 100 people on my Christmas card list (may 10 at most!), so I will use these stamps throughout the next year. I am going to look foward licking my stamps over the next few months, and sending the Madonna and her child, Our Lord, courtesy of the state mail delivery system. Perhaps describe it as my one man crusade to bring Mary back to England.

A bit indulgent, but worth the expense I feel.

For those who have money, please do the same. I am not actually the only one doing this, there are many other people around the country who have the same plan. These stamps can be bought in sheets of 50 from the Royal Mail website, or most Post Offices. When buying a stamp, ask for the 2007 Christmas stamps if they have them, otherwise, please ask for the definitives, and not these panto vulgarities.

Greenhouse

Just inside the walls of the eternal city, on the south side, sits one of the greatest marvels in the world. It is not the Colloseum or the Vatican: it is much greater than those things. It is the the mother church, the head of all the other churches in this city, and throughout the whole world. It is the Cathedral of the Pope.

Correctly styled the Cathedral Church of the Major Papal Archbasilica of the Most Holy Saviour, Saint John the Baptist and Saint John the Evangelist, the Lateran Basilica does not have the same charm as the other sites in the city may have. It is large, but not the biggest - its high altar is certainly smaller than in many parish churches. It is not the most splendid, and the fact that it has been greatly added to and rebuilt over the centuries shows.

Its sits on a large piazza (one filled with busy roads); directly oppiside the (positively modern and grotesque) western facade is an imposing statue of Saint Francis, gesturing towards the heavens as birds flutter around him, and other animals wander around his feet. It is less busy than the Vatican; the security checks are non-existant, so visiting here is perhaps a holier experience. It has so many hidden treasures and delights to feast your eyes and souls upon, including the benediction loggia behind the basilica, where Popes once gave the Urbi et Orbi, and the baptistry behind that, with its magnificently simple font. The highlight, of course, is the Pope's throne in the apse of the main Church.

When it was conescrated on 9th November 324 by Saint Sylvester, it was done so before the Nicene Council, before many articles of the faith were codified. Today, the date is celebrated a great feast of the Church, though in the UK, this coincides with Rememberance Sunday. I have my issues with this latter celebration for other reasons, and it is sad to see the two conflict in the calendar, as it is important both are kept by the Church.

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Yesterday was my day of reflection away from things. It was quite good. I always enjoy days out like that, as the Lord always has something beneficial to imput to the proceedings. Reconciliation was where it was at yesterday, though I am also enjoying getting through Simple Priesthood, which now ranks among the few books which make me laugh out loud. For the rest of the day, I was cleaning out the greenhouse and writing my essays: one down, one to go! I trust by Tuesday, a great weight will be lifted from my shoulders, giving more time for praying about the weighty issues on my heart.

Recollection

I'm not entirely sure why I am writing right at this moment, as I have many thousands of words to write over the next couple of days on rather conplicated subjects: religious toleration and multiculturalism, and the socialism of sixteenth century pre-Columbian Inca society. I think, given my mere selection of subjects, I should give myself a break and log on here.

For my last extended retreat, I went all the way up to the top of Scotland (which, thanks to yesterday's by-election, will remain firmly under the thumb of the union for a few years yet) to Pluscarden Abbey. While I was there, the brothers had their monthy recollection day - the day where normal activites stop, and they reflect on their own inner prayer lives, and meet their spiritual directors, and other visitors.

Having a recollection day is very important I feel, as we are often sucked into patterns beyond our control; these are found naturally as a result of our membership of society. It is commonly suggested that lay people have an annual extended retreat, some of which should be spent in silence. For those clerical, such retreats should be more frequent, partly to give those more at risk to suffer stress (i.e. parish priests) time off for themselves. Finding time for real, personal prayer must be very hard in pastoral situations. In addition to this, it seems sensible to have regular (monthy) days of recollection, to keep the candle burning. This is perhaps unnecessary for most people in the Church (but retreats are obviously encouraged), with the exception of lay people in ministerial or representitive positions (such as lay community members, liturgical ministers - whatever that means -, catechists, postulants and so forth).

I may apply this too to spiritual direction. All priests and religious should have a spiritual director, and laypeople in leadership or teaching positions. My spiritual direction tends to happen at the begining of the month, and so, I should like to keep a monthy day of reflection at the begining of the month.

Tomorrow, I am off (admitedly in a group) for a day of reflection, which I am looking forward to (inspite of it eating into my much needed time). Tomorrow is, incidently, the first Saturday, so begining this month, I will make a monthly retreat or day of recollection on the first Saturday of the month, unless events prevent this (in which case, I will move it to the next available day).

Perhaps some readers may wish to take up something similiar, giving genuine and prolonged occasion to the Lord in prayer and reflection, seeing one's spiritual director (if one has one) or confessor at this time also. I would certainly suggest these days are spent in silence with much reading material (certainly from the Bible, perhaps fitting to the season, or spiritual works by the saints and doctors).

I am not reading these things at the moment, rather I am reading (apart from John Locke) Simple Priesthood by a priest of my diocese, who candidly discusses the problems and issues of the modern priesthood, often from very personal encounters, and his life as a curate. I mentioned this to my chaplain, who added he was the very parish priest who was frequently mentioned in this book.

In other news, I was speaking of an Anglican recently. This is something I do not do very often, not out of choice, rather I don't know many Anglicans. Neither do I know much about Anglicanism, but from what I understood, it seemed to be not a coherent religion or denomination, rather a very wide umbrella gathering up a diverse selection of opposing beliefs, which as a result, leads to a focus on the irrelevent and an ignorance of the important. Very interesting, how this religion remains intact, and very strange, the ways of the Lord.

Beeswax

Yesterday, I travelled all the way to London with that John XXIII biography in hand. I'm now half way through. Fifty years ago today saw the coronation of this round pope (which is all, thankfully, on youtube), on the feast of St Charles Borromeo. As Angelo Roncalli, he spent most of his adult life editing a multi-volume work on he pastoral visits of St Charles during his time as Archbishop of Milan - a work itself commissioned by Achille Ratti (another favourite). For this reason, it was fitting he was crowned on this day (a date picked automatically, not by choice). So too was Borromeo instrumental in ensuring the Council of Trent continued, as it had previously been prorogued due to a plague. St Charles Borromeo is a great pastoral figure, and a model for all bishops.

But yesterday was a very different day. It was the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed, which is commonly known as All Souls' Day. Last year, I attended the traditional three-in-a-row Masses near where I live. There was some slight bending of the liturgical rules to allow this to happen, but it was a lovely thing to be a part of. Priests are entitled on this day to say three different Masses; they have the same priviledge at Christmas.

November is the month of the dead. For the Church, it is the last month in the calendar, and it is fitting we remember those who have gone before us at the end of the year. These souls need to be prayed for; how many countless men and women have gone before us without anyone to pray for them! Catholics believe in purgatory - though one would be hard pressed to find many to approach this subject sometimes. We do not necessarily go directly into heaven, as some would suggest, rather we undergo a treatment before we are admitted through the pearly gates. Soe describe it as a burning away of our sin, whereas Dante talked of the waters of purgatory, a kind of second baptism if you like. C.S. Lewis suggested that purgatory is not a physical place. Rather we all go to the same place when we die; when we are later raised to heaven, this experience is called purgatory. For those who are not raised, it is simply hell. It is very important, not only we pray for the people in this situation - who are, after all, members of the Church; our brothers and sisters - we must not assume the departed are now with the Lord, for that implies considerable presumption, which is why mourning is so appropriate, and why Catholics insist on requiem Masses, and this commemoration. A Catholic funeral is not solely a time of celebration and thanksgiving for the life of the departed faithful, it is a time of prayer and mourning, asking the Lord to pour out his abundant graces upon the dead, and send his angels to carry them to his arms.

For this reason, All Souls' Day and funeral days should be solemn and mournful. The Church has tradition of wearing black on these days. Some describe this as sorrowful and upsetting, and not appropriate. Well, I don't need to restate my reasons, but it is entirely appropriate, whereas white, in my view, is not (at least in the western world; in parts of the far east, white is the colour of mourning). Other things subtily change too. When in my usual haunts around London, I was pleased to see the large brassy altar sets replaced with black wooden ones; the curcifix smaller, darker, more solemn, less showy. The grand statue of Our Lady was dressed in a large black cope - or processional cape. And all the candles were orange. The use of unbleached beeswax candles is something I'm very fond of, though I'm sure most people would not notice. The day of solemn mourning becomes an occasion of sombre colours and shades. Black, orange, ivory and purple - for it is inappropriate to vest the altar and tabernacle in black. And only once a year...

After the reception of some sacraments, I paid a visit to Cathedral Plazza's twofold selection of Catholic bookshops. I was primarily looking for Humanae Vitae and Evangelium Vitae (I forgot to get the latter), the encyclicals concerned with reproduction and what not. I got a selection of other items too, including some liturgical resources for Advent, a pamphlet on resurgent Catholic traditionalism (it never went away in my head!), and some Vatican II bits and bobs. I was looking for some Taizé visual material for a couple of projects I have in the pipline for Advent and Christmas, but I failed to find any large enough. I've picked all the songs, I just need to complete the atmostphere with the icons hopefully (although I'm banning the use of unnecessary tealights!).

Finally, I will leave you with a thought. It is very common today to see tealights (votive candles that it) in Churches for the edification of the faithful. Candles are very good indeed, but what of the environmental impact of all the empty votive cases?

I vote for tall candles this election day (which also last longer and give off more heat).

I'm not American fortunately, so I'm unable to vote. But the importance of this single office is so great, everyone will feel the impact of the result. May the Holy Spirit guide the voters who have the power to change the world - and save lives.

Lord Jesus Christ,

You told us to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.

Enlighten the minds of your people in America. May they choose a President of the United States, and other government officials, according to Your Divine Will.

Give these citizens the courage to choose leaders of that nation who respect the sanctity of unborn human life, the sanctity of marriage, the sanctity of marital relations, the sanctity of the family, and the sanctity of the aging.

Grant them the wisdom to give You, what belongs to You, our God, and bless all nations with good leaders.

Amen.

Diary

Every so often, I start a new diary. I started my last diary at around Easter this year, though now I feel I need to dispose of it.

Yesterday, I was in rainy Cambridge, and I bought a little book to keep new entries in. Later, I found to my excitement it has a little space at the top of the page to write the date. I may start filling it in tomorrow, but we shall have to see.

Incidently, after I had got home, I had been asked to dinner with someone visiting the area. It was a lovely atmosphere, though the tone soured a little when the love of certain things was described as just sentimentalism - something which is, I hear purely superficial. I hope to travel down to London tomorrow (if my back has healed a little) to spend some of All Souls in the Brompton Oratory.

Today, which is kept in places as the solemnity of All Saints, I was the grateful recipient of another very large box of books. Inside this cardboard wrapped treasury of goodies I found a picture book of the life of Angelo Roncalli, published shortly after he had been elected John XXIII. Interestingly, I am currently reading the biography of John XXIII, which was written shortly after his death (unfortunately, it got a bit wet in the rain yesterday). It is wonderful to be able to match pictures in one book with stories I can recall reading in the other. Last week was the fiftieth anniversary of his election to the chair of Peter, and so it is a fitting time to be reading about him.

As it is All Saints today, I shall leave you with some words from Saint Bernard:

"Saints have no need of honour from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs. Clearly, if we venerate their memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning...

"The saints want us to be with them, and we are indifferent. The souls of the just await us, and we ignore them.

"Come, brothers, let us at length spur ourselves on. We must rise again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for our coming to intercede for us. We should not only want to be with the saints, we should also hope to possess their happiness. While we desire to be in their company, we must also earnestly seek to share in their glory."