In 2008 dear Brother Anthony was called out of retirement in Perth, Scotland, to come down to the new Redemptorist house in Chawton, Hampshire, and be cook and companion. I had just been appointed as the new director of Redemptorist Publications. Anthony came gladly and was a wonderful friend until his death, at 79 years, on May 20th at Basingstoke Hospital. He was a superb cook, and he always said that on his gravestone he would like the words engraved: "He could do a great soup!"
He went to the local Sainsbury's in Alton twice a day, his real cathedral, to attend his devotions of buying food "for the Fathers" as he would always say. One visit would have done, but Sainsbury's was his little way of getting out of the house and he found it difficult to walk far from his beloved Volvo. He would buy Scottish products if available - only Highland Water and Scottish beef and Scotch whisky - always with an eye to a bargain. One day when he brought back Tony Blair"s autobiography, I asked him who would read it. He protested, "But it was a bargain at half-price!"
He was very proudly Scottish and close to his large family. The only paper he really read was the Sunday Post and he had an undying love for mince and tatties, although his own version of Scottish steak pie had to be tasted to be believed. He owned wardrobes of kilts - the picture above is of him and my sister Ellen in St. Clement's here in Chawton. He was always gracious to visitors, ensuring they were welcome and well fed. If he got tired entertaining, he would shake his head, adjust both his hearing aids, and disappear upstairs in search of unneeded batteries.
In five years living with Anthony, he was never moody or distant: he had a lovely kind disposition, always ready to excuse people, a man of unfailing good humour. When he smiled broadly, it looked like he had rented the sun.
In my trips abroad he would readily drive me to the airport at speeds that could not be caught on camera. On 15 February, on my return from Rome, Anthony was not at the airport at the usual pre-arranged place. Suddenly there was a large absence. He had taken to his bed, afflicted by severe pneumonia. It was the beginning of his last journey. His local doctor advised me to keep him at home. In the weeks ahead, Anthony was a good-natured patient, having to endure my dreadful cooking, which he tried to eat, always without complaint. After a while I noticed that his clean plate was clean because he had moved most of the meal to the bin by his bed while delicately covering the leftovers with kitchen roll.
For the last six weeks Anthony has been in three hospitals. The consultant in the ICU unit in Basingstoke, five weeks ago, told me that Brother Anthony could not survive outside the hospital because his body was too fatigued. His judgement proved all too true. The kindness and care he has received from the NHS has been simply superb - especially the nurses (mostly immigrants) who treated him with heartfelt tenderness.
The day he died I was with him from 4 until 6:30, and he seemed to be regaining a bit of lost ground. He was aware he was slowly dying and asked me if he would be missed. Then suddenly, through the oxygen mask, he prayed the prayer of his childhood in a loud voice:
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
And then he added, "But not yet." And smiled his broad smile and told me to go home, waving his hand. He then lifted the oxygen mask and kissed my hand. I wish I had read the final signal and stayed. How stupid was that?
Not long after I returned home the hospital rang to say Anthony had taken a serious turn for the worse and they were making him comfortable. Christine Thirkell, our financial controller, very kindly drove me back to the hospital. Jim McKell, Anthony's brother, was already there. Sadly we arrived 5 minutes too late.
Brother Anthony put up such a brave fight against the inevitable. He was a truly wonderful kind confrere.
He has no idea how much I will miss him. What was it a poet said? "One person is absent; the world is depopulated."
God keep dear Brother Anthony in his everlasting embrace.
When you stroll through a cemetery, looking at gravestones, many are headlined with R.I.P. - rest in peace. When we celebrate Easter we honour that God the Father did not write R.I.P. over the tomb of Jesus. The resurrection is God's laughter in the tomb, his protest at the brutality his son suffered, his refusal to leave Jesus dead. In response, Jesus rises to the occasion.
When we celebrate Easter we hold holy the memory of God's great act in raising Jesus from the dead. But a question raises itself: is our faith in the resurrection limited to remembering Jesus' resurrection and hoping for our own on the last day? What happens between times? What about today?
When we look at our world today we have to close our eyes and ears not to see and hear how suffering and violence continue to disfigure so many people. There are many people who can feel their wounds. What does the resurrection of Jesus say to all this, today? The challenge of Easter today is to understand the history of human suffering in the light of Jesus' resurrection. This means that we have to take God's part in protesting against the violence and the suffering that are accepted so readily as inevitable. As Christians we have to make our protest against death in the midst of life.
Death is not just a fate that we meet at the end of life. We see death all around us in the midst of life. This point was made movingly by the German theologian Jurgen Moltmann in an Easter sermon when he said:
Death is an evil power now, in life's very midst. It is the economic death of the person we allow to starve; the political death of the people who are oppressed; the social death of the handicapped; the noisy death that strikes through bombs and torture, and the soundless death of the apathetic soul.
To accept this litany of death as inevitable is to empty the resurrection of its power for today. A resurrection faith faces the cross and protests against the finality of that violence. It educates us to see as God sees; to act as so many of God's chosen do act today when with enormous courage they refuse to genuflect to the powers of darkness that use suffering and death as their tools to keep power.
The resurrection of Jesus is a proclamation that this outcast from Galilee is the beloved of God who cannot be held in the keep of death because someone else takes action. Jesus did not raise himself; he was raised by God. The truth that God raised Jesus from the dead gives hope and help to all those who want that miracle repeated in the midst of life. They believe that God's work continues - not least because they believe Jesus' words: "I am the resurrection and the life."
After only five ballots, the new Pope was appointed, the first non-European for 1,000 years: Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, SJ, a 76-year old Argentinian Jesuit. For his papal name he chose - not Ignatius, the Jesuit founder - but Francis, the gentle lover of simplicity and nature. The name, of course, of Francis of Assisi is venerated throughout Italy and indicative of a style of leadership that might surprise the Roman Curia. The new Pope's name might be his agenda as the rebuilder of the Church.
As an outsider to Vatican bureaucracy, the new Pope joked in his initial speech that the cardinals fetched the new Bishop of Rome from the end of the world. The first thing he did was to ask for silence, bow and invite the assembled people to pray for him before he blessed them.
We pray for Pope Francis that he enjoys a fruitful and blessed ministry.
They process in to Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel - 115 cardinal-electors - the stunning 15th century setting for the election of a new pope. They will elect the leader of the 1.2 billion Catholics throughout the world.
Of the assembled cardinals, 67 were created by Pope Emeritus Benedict and 48 by Blessed John Paul II. The electors spent the last week with cardinals above the voting age discussing challenges facing the church and sizing up papal candidates, including possibly electing the first non-European pope in more than a millennium. With only 24 percent of Catholics living in Europe, pressure is growing to choose a pontiff from elsewhere in the world who would bring a different perspective.
Members of the electors include the leading contenders: Angelo Scola, 71, archbishop of Milan; Vienna's archbishop Christoph Schonborn, 68; Canada's Ouellet, the 68-year-old archbishop of Montreal; and Sao Paulo's archbishop Odilo Scherer of Brazil, 63.
The conclave officially began after Guido Marini, the master of papal liturgical ceremonies, cried "Extra omnes," meaning "Everyone out!" Marini, in a purple cloak, then closed the massive wooden doors, allowing the princes of the church to get down to the business of picking the 266th pope.
Of course, nobody really knows who it will be. Whoever it is, and he agrees, he will retire to the Room of Tears. It's just a few feet away from the Sistine Chapel, but most importantly, it's where a newly elected Pope wears his Papal white vestment for the first time.
As seen below, three papal vestments of different sizes are already in the Room of Tears. Also there are three different pairs of red shoes and papal hats, so the next Pope can choose his size before he is introduced to the world, nervously, on St. Peter's balcony, as the new pontiff.
Elected in 2005, following the death of Pope John Paul II, Joseph Ratzinger had first-hand experience of attending a pope who was extremely frail and in ill-health while still maintaining his position on the world stage. Now 85, that experience has taught Joseph Ratzinger the stubborn belief that there is no indignity in a pope resigning because he can no longer manage in his own body the huge responsibilities of his office. Thus Pope Benedict XVI announced:
After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God, I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age, are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry . . .
However, in today's world, subject to so many rapid changes and shaken by questions of deep relevance for the life of faith, in order to govern the bark of Saint Peter and proclaim the Gospel, both strength of mind and body are necessary, strength which in the last few months, has deteriorated in me to the extent that I have had to recognise my incapacity to adequately fulfil the ministry entrusted to me.
Pope Benedict has gone against the tradition of a pope dying in office, admitting that he is now too frail in mind and body to carry out the responsibilities of the Petrine ministry. The last Pope to do so was in 1415. In a cartoon in The Times, one cardinal leans into another and says:
Neither of the previous two papal resignations was due to ill-health. On returning from his visit to Mexico and Cuba, Pope Benedict was advised by his doctors against travelling any more on transatlantic flights because of his deteriorating health.
Pope Benedict's visit to Britain, which was prefaced by negative articles in the press about the German rottweiler, ended up by recognising him, however reluctantly, as a German shepherd. His speech in Westminster Hall on faith reason and democracy, addressed to the political elite of the land, was a stunning reflection of great depth, reflecting his scholarly insight.
The probability is that he will retire first to the papal summer residence, Castel Gandolfo, overlooking Lake Albano, which is about 15 miles south-east of Rome. Then possibly to the Mater Ecclesiae monastery, inside the Vatican, once the offices of the Vatican Radio. Since no one knows how to refer to an ex-pope, there have to be a new Debrett's entry: perhaps the Emeritus Bishop of Rome?
Pope Benedict's realism about his own health and limitations, over against the considerable demands of his office, has led to his personal decision to resign. He has too much respect for the office to occupy it enfeebled and debilitated. This might be his most radical act as Pope, recognising his own human frailty. I am sure all of us wish Pope Benedict, wherever he decides to live, a restful and peaceful retirement. And wish his successor, wherever he comes from, a healthy and fruitful pontificate.
As we celebrate Christmas and approach another New Year, like the Roman god Janus, we look back and look forward. I'd like to share a little reflection we could do together.
When you pause and look back at this year,
do you think the world is a safer place
than it was this time last year?
Do you think our world has progressed much?
Do you think you are a better person? How have you grown this year? What good things have happened to you? What bad experiences have you endured? Has this year been for you a good time, a time of growth, a time of blessing?
Have any of your loved ones died this year? How are you managing their loss? Or has someone you love moved away, out of your life, leaving you forlorn? Is there a new absence in your life?
Have you made new friends? Has it been a good year for your family? Have you stayed close to them? Do they know that you love them?
Do you feel better about yourself now than you did last year? Are you still excited about your vocation, your career, your work? Or are you content in retirement? How have you changed?
And when you look ahead to the coming year, how do you feel? Are you looking forward to this new year? Is there anything you are afraid of? Is there something you are dreading? What are you looking forward to? Anything?
Is there anything you long to happen in your life this coming year? What would you have to do to help bring your longing to life?
It's important, though not easy, to look back with kindness, and to look forward in hope.
This year is closing down and a new year beckons. Let us hand over the past to God for his healing blessing. Let us ask the Lord to face the future with us because we do not want to face it alone.
Let us pray for each person who reads this, and for all those we love and cherish: that each one might know the promise of the Lord that brings the Gospel to a close:
"Know this, I will be with you even unto the end of the world."
With the Apostolic Letter, Porta Fidei - The Door of Faith - Pope Benedict XVI declared a Year of Faith for all Catholics throughout the world. This year begins on 11 October 2012 and concludes on 24 November 2013, the Solemnity of Christ the King.
The beginning of the Year of Faith coincides with the anniversaries of two great events which have marked the life of the Church in recent times: the fiftieth anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council and the twentieth of the publication of the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
The Year of Faith gives all of us a graced opportunity to nourish the life of faith we have been given. None of us stays believing automatically: our faith needs to be fostered and cherished, fed and fortified; otherwise it can die from indifference or neglect. The Year of Faith gives us a favourable time to deepen our personal faith in the Lord and strengthen our attachment to the believing community.
Although no one can believe for us, none of us believes on our own. Since the beginning of the Church, people have shared and celebrated their faith not only within the Church but beyond its boundaries. They've done this because they wanted others to experience the inner strength that graced their life - this force that helps us face the daily challenges, and sometimes the sheer trudge, of ordinary time. The opening to the First Letter of John puts it beautifully:
Something that has existed from the beginning,
that we have heard,
and that we have seen with our own eyes;
that we have watched
and touched with our hands:
the Word who is life -
this is our subject . . .
What we have seen and heard
we are telling you
so that you too may be in union with us,
as we are in union
with the Father
and with his Son Jesus Christ.
One message that flows from this passage is to share the experience of our lived faith. Belief in Jesus contains a core imperative: the impulse to pass on what we have received so that others might participate in this abundant life. Our faith is not meant to be part of the Official Secrets Act. It calls us to share what we love, to go beyond the reaches of our own community and witness to what shapes our identity and direction in life.
In the Gospels there is no passage describing Jesus being alone. The stories told about Jesus always include other people, and we learn about Jesus from those who have life in his name. This story continues in the Church today: people come to Jesus through the community that has life in his name, through those who believe in the one sent among us to reveal the face of God. There is no Jesus without community.
As part of the worldwide community of the followers of Jesus, we Catholics have a special opportunity during the Year of Faith to deepen our attachment to Jesus as Lord, strengthen our ties with all who believe in Jesus, and witness to our faith with a sense of pride. To help mark your journey through the Year of Faith, you can use this simple diary as a resource for reflection, for prayer, and for action. The diary runs to the end of December 2013 so that you can use it as a complete annual diary for 2013.
All of us at Redemptorist Publications hope that our publication, Your Diary for the Year of Faith, will serve as a helpful companion for the Year of Faith and beyond.
Leaving London in the middle of the home Olympics to travel to Australia seemed a wee bit strange, but it was all worth it, especially sensing the admiration of the Aussies for Team GB and the growing collection of medals.
Thanks to Fr Greg Bourke, who attended classes I gave in Rome, for the kind invitation. Fr Greg is the director of Ministry to Priests, a group dedicated to caring for the priests of the archdiocese, young and old.
The conference was held in a hotel in Geelong, an hour's drive west of Melbourne. It was supported by Archbishop Denis Hart, Bishop Vincent Long, and 124 priests from the archdiocese. Fr Paul Murray OP, a professor at the Angelicum in Rome, gave a day, and I gave two days on the subject of the parables of Jesus.
What was particularly delightful was the international mix of the priests, not only from Scotland and Ireland, but from Vietnam, Italy, Malta, Pakistan, Iraq, and India. Many of the priests come from the recent Asian immigration, especially the "boat people" from Vietnam, although nearly everyone in Australia, I suppose, apart from the Australian Aborigines, originally came from boat people from elsewhere.
You get a feel for a real international group of priests, who have an instinctive respect for different nationalities and diverse cultures. With immigration from so many countries, what it means to be Australian is gradually being reinvented and redrawn.
The priests'welcome was warm and effortless and genuine. I felt at home very quickly and in the photo below you can see me with two wonderful Australian/Vietnamese priests - on my right Fr Binh Le, the vocations' director, and on my left Fr Thinh Nguyen, the chaplain to the University of Melbourne. They were especially kind, together with Fr Greg and his assistant Megan, to an ancient visitor from Scotland!
I was invited to lead a five-day reflection for the Redemptorist students of the American region, at San Alfonso Retreat House in New Jersey. The region consists of Canada, the two provinces in the USA, the English-speaking countries of the Caribbean, and the extra patriam group of Vietnamese Redemptorists. It was like a United Nations, and we were joined by C.Ss.R. students from Haiti.
The Redemptorist retreat house is on the Atlantic coast of New Jersey, so it is a stunning place to have any meeting. The lawns go down to the rocks, that break up the Atlantic surf.
There were 57 participants, including the formators and the regional coordinator, the ever-cheerful Fr Jack Kingsbury. I did some reflections on Jesus and discipleship, and the mood was good-humoured and relaxed. During the conference three students received the habit prior to their novitiate.As you can see from the pictures, there was time for volleyball and football on the lawn, and time for relaxing together. It was a marvellous time to grow in a sense of belonging to a truly international group of dedicated men, although I must confess I felt like a bit of an antique surrounded by the youthfulness and vigour of the conference.
Luke is the only evangelist to write explicitly about the early church and how it began, so he is more concerned than the other evangelists to enable his readers to answer the question: what makes for Christian community? How does the Christian community begin again? How is it refounded after the passion and death of Jesus? Luke will move his story from a community shattered by the violent death of Jesus to a community preaching in the name of the risen Lord. As a storyteller he will illustrate the movement from
the disciples' experience of loss
to
their new attachment to the Lord
a community that stays and waits
to
a mission-charged community
The disciples change because, firstly, something happened to Jesus: he was raised from the dead by God.
In the story of Jesus' appearance to the assembled disciples and their companions the first thing Jesus does is to offer reconciliation in the greeting of peace. He returns to the same community that has abandoned him, betrayed him, denied him, and offers them peace. He is willing to begin again; his peace will enable them to begin again. He does not lock them into the failure of their past.
Perhaps most of us would have returned to such a community to inform them that their services were no longer required, and found a new group of followers! The risen Jesus, however, begins with them, the same community, in their fragility. The gift of peace marks the beginning of this new community, the community that we belong to as Church. As a Church we were founded in the peace of Christ.
Some time soon, give yourself ten minutes alone.
Sit quietly; be still.
Imagine yourself sitting on the edge of a well.
It's a beautiful day, calm, peaceful.
You are alone.
You see a figure approach the well.
You recognise the figure as Jesus of Nazareth.
He is coming here to meet you.
You are his destination.
What do you do?
Do you look at your watch and say,
"Lord, I've got to run.
I need to be somewhere."
Another voice tells you:
There is no need to be afraid.
There is no need to run.
There is no need to pretend.
There is no need to be someone you are not.
Be yourself.
He knows the mystery of you.
You stay, but you're nervous.
He sits beside you.
He smiles.
You smile back.
"Beautiful day," he says.
'Right,' you say.
He looks down into the well behind you.
"Deep down there," he says.
You say, 'Right.'
You don't know what else to say.
Then he looks you in the eye and says,
"I haven't come here to be clever about you,
to humiliate you, to hurt you.
I am no stranger to you, no threat.
Tell me this:
Out of your depth what are you crying for?
What do you really thirst for in life?
What do you thirst for more than anything in the world?
What is your spirit crying out for?
Talk to me. I am listening."
You take courage and hear yourself talking.
Dear friends, that is what we call prayer.
When we allow the Lord to approach us.
When we allow the Lord to speak to us.
When we allow ourselves to speak back.
Greg Watts has established an excellent reputation as a journalist, author, teacher and public relations adviser. He has written for The Times, The Guardian, Evening Standard, and many other publications, and has reported from Iraq, Russia, Italy, Lebanon, Israel and the Palestinian Territories. His TV and radio appearances include BBC, ITN, CNN, Sky, and Al-Jazeera. He has written a dozen books.
1. Fr Denis, when were the seeds of your vocation sown?
In my childhood parish of St Stephen's, Clydebank, in the west of Scotland. The parish priest, referred to in hushed tones as Doctor Mallon, was a bit on the dour side, an intellectual, and a very prayerful man. He had two curates: Fr Cush was a disciplinarian who pulled and twisted your right ear after you made a mistake serving at the altar; Fr Tobin was a gentle giant who forgave mistakes easily and was a regular visitor to our house. The three of them lived together in the "chapel house" and it was a mystery to me, and a relief, that they were so different in personality. Clearly they had not been shaped and pressed into the same mould; clearly the priesthood had expansive room for different types of people. There might even be room for the likes of me . . .
2. Why did you choose the Redemptorists?
Trying to follow in the footsteps of the priests in the parish, I attended a junior seminary in Scotland, where all the teaching staff were priests: they taught Latin and Greek and mathematics, and all the other subjects I found hopelessly dreary. I loved sports. One weekend a Redemptorist came to the college to give a retreat: he talked about Jesus in a simple and passionate way. This priest was free to wander up and down Britain giving missions and retreats, rather than being locked into the fixed world of a classroom wrestling with irregular verbs. When I was thrown out of seminary - for not taking my studies seriously and for being irredeemably thick and unhappy - I remembered his way of being a priest, and requested to follow him into the Redemptorists.
The Redemptorists have been my life since that day and I have never regretted it. Since I was eighteen, I have lived my Christian faith in Redemptorist community; and although community life has its mixture of the crooked and the cracked, I have always felt at home there.
My work as a Redemptorist has taken me all over the world - from the rain forests of Borneo to the wide avenues of New York to the sandy spread of the Kalahari Desert - and I have met a long litany of good people, struggling to live a life of faith. The reason I have been invited to go to these places is simple - to reflect with people on the story of Jesus in the Gospels. The Gospels, the images, the vocabulary, the whole culture of the faith have always been an important place for me, because this place allows me to articulate myself more intelligibly and offer God's message of plentiful redemption to people.
3. What aspect of religious life have you found most rewarding?
Its freedom and mobility. The secular clergy, from the nature of their job, have to be settlers, charged with the daily caring for the community of their parish. Religious are free to be pioneers, not tied down to the regularity of parish life; we are released to explore new ways of attending to the people of God. The Church, of course, needs both the settlers and the pioneers to complete its ministry.
4. What have you found most difficult?
The realisation that no matter how satisfying or fulfilling community life might be, it will never replace the abiding absence of a particular person to love and share my life with. One of the great practical advantages of community life is that it's a place where I can make real friends, enabling me to do things I could never manage on my own; it often compensates for my personal weakness and stupidity. But there are times, to be honest, when community life becomes a bore and a burden, and I long to be free of it. Then I remind myself of the paralytic in the Gospel who was carried up to the roof by his determined friends and then lowered through the ceiling into the loving presence of Jesus. There are times when we are saved only by our steadfast friends.
5. How do you see the work you are currently involved in?
As director of Redemptorist Publications I see my work as supporting and expanding the faith of Catholics and reaching out to other Christian faiths. The advantage of writing is that you reach a large audience, though unseen - you never know where your thoughts will eventually land. The disadvantage, of course, is that usually the only people you do hear from are those who complain about something you've written and blithely accuse you of heresy. By definition writing is a lonely job, but at Redemptorist Publications we have a supportive staff that helps you believe it's all worthwhile.
6. Fr Denis, what are the biggest challenges of the work?
To rethink in a simple and fresh way the teaching of the Gospel while staying in conversation with the struggles people face in their lives. There's little point in studying the Gospels while remaining resolutely ignorant of the people to whom they're addressed. So many people are dying to hear good news in their lives while they try to face what each day brings them; so many people expend their energy simply managing that they have little ardour for organised religion. Certainly in Western Europe the impact of Christianity has diminished with the consequence that people are less and less interested: when people lose interest it pushes you to wonder what impact you're making. In the present climate one of the greatest challenges is to keep faith with the original Gospel vision and not lose heart, believing that the Christian message still remains a liberating force for everyone.
7. What skills do you need?
An attentive ear, an expansive heart, an open mind, and an ability to reach people simply and honestly. And, not least, humility about what we can achieve as we remind ourselves that it is God's kingdom, not ours.
8. Have you a tip on how to pray?
I thought about this when writing my book, Praying with Pictures, in which I try to find a voice for all sorts of people in all sorts of situations. I think, above all, that in our prayer the challenge is to be real, truthful, heartfelt, unaffected. There is little point in dressing up before the one who knows us better than we could ever know ourselves. My tip would be to tell people not to worry about what they should say: be yourself, whatever condition you are in, and find a language for what is going on in your life.
9. What's the best piece of advice you've ever been given?
An old priest in New York - Fr Robert Hovda - told me when I was a young priest: "Never write someone else's script." When people come for advice, there is real temptation to tell them what to do with their lives; much better, I think, to help people find their own voice, discover their own road, and take responsibility for their own choices. When someone comes to talk about their life, you try to give this person your best thinking while respecting ambiguity and confusion. You refuse to write their script or pretend that you have some exclusive hotline to God that will guarantee a quick fix to their problems. You stay humble before such huge honesty and try to honour it, yes, with your own. You remind yourself that you are supposed to proclaim Good News, not just orthodoxy, so you make a real effort to ask the right questions, understand the issues, broaden the canvas, and, together, seek a way forward.
10. Which figures from history would you like to invite to a dinner party?
- The Beloved Disciple from the fourth Gospel - I'd love to know his identity and listen to him reflect about his understanding of Jesus.
- Piero della Francesca, the Italian Renaissance painter, whose work still speaks with such an original and fresh voice to many people today, me included.
- Graham Greene, my favourite author, for his edgy insight into human nature and his tenuous connection with Catholicism.
- Lady Gaga who could give us an after-dinner performance of startling creativity.
When the song of the angels has been stilled,
when the star has gone from the night sky,
when the kings have reached their far shores,
when the shepherds have returned to their flocks,
then the work of Christmas really begins:
to find those who are lost,
to heal those who are broken in spirit,
to feed those who are hungry,
to release those who are oppressed,
to rebuild the nations torn by strife,
to bring peace among all peoples,
to bring the light of the Gospel
into the darkest corners of our world.
We pray that we might radiate the light of Christ,
through the kindliness of our presence
and the determination of our purpose,
every day of our lives.
Amen.
Blessing
May the joy of the angels,
the eagerness of the shepherds,
the perseverance of the wise men,
the love of Joseph and Mary,
and the peace of the Christ child
be ours this Christmas.
And may the blessing of God almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
rest upon us and remain with us always.
Amen.
To purchase a copy of Your Sunday Missal, click here.
As general editor of our new missal I had the enduring support of two fine editors - Andrew Lyon, our editorial manager and Fr Peter Edwards, one of RP's editors and the best proof-reader this side of Boston. Rosemarie Pink, our designer, had the gargantuan task of setting everything down electronically: how she endured it all is one of the unnumbered glorious mysteries.
Everything had to be approved by the Liturgy Office in London, led by Martin Foster, and we found them kind and supportive. It has all proved worthwhile, but I wouldn't want to go through the process again.
Your Sunday Missal includes:
- The new translation of the Order of Mass
- Every Sunday Mass for the three-year cycle
- Two Eucharistic prayers for reconciliation and the four for Masses for Various Needs.
- A selection of Litanies
- The Rosary, including scriptural readings to assist prayer
- Stations of the Cross by St Alphonsus Liguori, attractively illustrated
- A Treasury of Prayers by St Alphonsus, selected by my confrere Richard Reid
- Prayers for each day of the week, which I composed
- Latin texts for the people's part of the Mass
Our single hope is that this missal will be a faithful and constant companion in worshipping the God of all kindness, in whom there is plentiful redemption.
HEADTEACHERS of Catholic primary schools across the Archdiocese of Glasgow have come together for a day of reflection and prayer on their role as leaders.
Excerpt from Flourish, newspaper of the Archdiocese of Glasgow.Within a busy schedule, the time away from their daily tasks proved inspirational and beneficial. The teachers were afforded a fascinating insight into the leadership exercised by Jesus in an engaging talk given by Fr Denis McBride, a Redemptorist priest and leading teacher on the Scriptures.
"Most people think leadership is about control, power, authority, telling people what to do, how to behave," he pointed out. "Jesus is a leader, a teacher, but if we look at the Gospels we see the longest narrative about him is focused on his fragility and suffering. Passion, honesty and integrity are instinctively important parts of leadership.
"If you want to understand Jesus look at those who have life in His name. Life for the wounded, the little people: their lives are enlarged through contact with the Lord. The are enlarged in the presence of this person."
Like the witnesses in the Gospels good teachers speak out of the authority of their experience, Fr McBride explained. What they have seen and heard and touched, they pass on to others. "Tradition is not something you hold on to, but what you pass on or hand over" " he said. "If we dont pass on what we cherish as Christians, then Christianity will become a museum piece."
The gathering took in the Archdiocesan offices in Clyde Street, allowing the headteachers to join in the lunchtime Mass in St Andrew's Cathedral. Archbishop Conti lead the celebration - thanking the headteachers for their important apostolate - and Fr McBride gave an inspirational homily on the life of St Jerome whose feast day it was.
They are a formidable group of men, the Redemptorists in Zimbabwe, and I had the privilege of offering a retreat to all the professed of the Region. They were warm, welcoming and really good company. We have 7 priests, 5 brothers, 2 deacons, 6 professed students, 2 novices, 4 unprofessed students, and 6 postulants - making 32 in all, the average age being around thirty.
They are a young vibrant group, bringing enormous talent and commitment to their varied work. They are led by Fr William Guri, CSsR, the Regional superior, Bro Benjamin Posvo, CSsR, the rector of the formation community, and Fr Raymond Mupandasekwa, CSsR, in overall charge of formation. These three, together with Fr Ronnie McAinsh, CSsR, our provincial, were the pioneers of today's Region, although the Redemptorists from the London Province have served there for some fifty years.
Formation: Alphonsus House, Tafara
The houses of formation are set in a large compound in Tafara, on the outskirts of the capital city, Harare. Fr Raymond is assisted by Fr Joseph Musendami, CSsR, who is in charge of the six postulants. The original chapel was burnt down and is now replaced by a new building, which is simple and elegant, decorated by stunning paintings by the Jesuit artist, Fr Tony Berridge, who has now sadly died. You can catch something of the chapel's beauty from the pictures, and see some of the formation community smiling bravely!
Parishes
The Redemptorists looks after two flourishing parishes in Tafara and Mabvuku, townships on the outskirts of Zimbabwe. The parishes are divided up into small Christian communities, with their own section leaders, who would liaise with the parish priests about the pastoral needs of their sections. The sections would meet regularly and have their own Masses. Lay participation is high, and the singing and the drums and the movement at Mass are wonderful to witness.
We also run St Gerard's parish in Borrowdale and St Augustine's in Hatcliffe, with Nazareth House as an outstation. St Gerard's is probably the most influential parish in Harare, attended by many government ministers and their families - so the content of the homilies are particularly noted by men with ear-pieces rather than earrings.
The Mavambo Trust
The name Mavambo means Genesis, standing for a new start. Brother Benjamin CSsR is the director of the Mavambo Trust, originally founded to educate children 8-11 who have missed out on school, usually because they have no birth certificate and who cannot, therefore, register at government schools, or because they are too poor to pay the fees. The kids are often single or double orphans because of the HIV/AIDS crisis and are raised by their grandparents. About 70% of them are accepted into the regular schools after only one year with the Trust, which is a measure of the quality of the teaching. Bro Benji has the help of two sisters, Kathi and Mike; Danny is his assistant director; Lamech is in charge of social services and outreach, and there are over a hundred volunteers. The trust also feeds over 300 children a day during the school terms. If anyone reading this would like to make a donation, please e-mail Bro Benji, btposvo@yahoo.com
Caritas Harare
Brother Francis Marimbe CSsR is the development coordinator for Caritas Harare, the social development arm of the archdiocese of Harare. 83% of the population live on less than $2 a day, so there are many pressing needs to meet. Caritas in emergency relief with regular projects in vulnerable group feeding, including hospitals and prisons and schools; developing skills for unemployed young people; HIV support; gender issues; water and sanitation; seed and fertiliser support; reaching out to squatter communities. Br Francis is supported by a committed staff of over thirty people, including experts in conservation farming techniques, nursing, and social workers.
Mashambanzou
The name means "the time the elephant goes to wash", signalling a new dawn, a fresh beginning. Two Redemptorist brothers work in this project, Tendai and Tendayi, which includes child protection, child counselling, HIV awareness, and unemployment issues. 85% of the people are in "informal employment", since the opportunities for full-time employment is very low. With HIV still a destructive issue in family life, the two brothers devote themselves to promoting HIV awareness, which they do not only in public places like churches but also in beer halls.
Redemptorist Book Shop
We used to run the bookshop at the Cathedral, but the bishops' conference wanted the space, so we had to find an alternative place. Fr Mark Chandavengerwa, C.Ss.R. runs the bookshop with two lay assistants and he can be seen in the photograph with Br David Nyammuronda, C.Ss.R. who very patiently took me on a walk around Harare. Br David will be starting soon at the Mavambo Trust, probably to teach the children there.
The Redemptorist Region has an impressive variety of works carried out by an impressive group of men, I thank them for their warm hospitality and good humour, and wish them every success in all their living and study and work.
It was a great privilege to go to Rome to offer a retreat to the General Council of the Divine Word Missionaries - SVDs. They are a formidable missionary group of about 5,000 men who spread the Gospel all over the world and are directed in this by the General Council, led by Fr Antonio from the Philippines, standing on my right in the photograph. They are a truly international group, and rather than having provinces of the same nationality, they tend to make as many communities as possible with an international mix. I have been lecturing in their centre in Nemi for many years, so it was lovely to go back and meet the top men of the Society! They were very gracious and relaxed, which made my job so much easier. Many thanks to them.
Based on Opening Address to the Dublin Chapter
Have a look at Jacopo Bassano's painting, The Last Supper. Bassano catches beautifully the fragility of this meeting. None of the apostles is paying any attention to Jesus. No eyes are fixed on him, no ears attentive to what he might have to say. This is a concelebration of distraction. They prefer to concentrate on their own concern: which of them is the greatest? They bring their own worries to the meeting as we all do, and they are worried about their own place in the scheme of things: hierarchy and appointments. The Beloved Disciple looks utterly bored by it all: the fingers of his right hand are poised. If I did a modern version of the painting I would insert an I-pad under those fingers as he checks his Facebook.
In the midst of this distraction Jesus looks out at us the onlooker while he points to the butchered head of a lamb on the table. He hopes we might attend. And you wonder about the questions he might be asking:
- You watch your team beginning to crack, and you wonder: will this crowd hold up?
- You make a long speech telling them that they are really worth it, yes, really. And because they're ambitious you tell them they'll have a throne each. Will that do? How do you keep ambitious men happy?
- You wonder why your friends cannot enter your tragedy.
- You wonder how you ended up here anyway. What went wrong along the way?
- Could you have said things differently, made things more clear? Been more precise in that vision statement?
- What makes people pick the sides they do?
- Dear God, why didn't you give me a more alert crowd?
We all know you can be in the same room with people, but on a different planet: proximity doesn't necessarily bring understanding. Sometimes when you try to be real with the people you know, they can turn away in awkward embarrassment, unsure how to react or what to say. They reach for anyone else or any topic - anything will do, apart from your revelation. Like the exchange I heard recently on the London Underground:
She says: "Have you any idea how that makes me feel. It really really hurts."
He says: "Mmm, right. You know I got a promotion today at work. Cool."
At the Last Supper Jesus as host is talking about the brokenness of the bread and the bloodiness of the wine. At the table there is a noticeable absence of the lightness and fun we associate with celebrations. It is hard to be real with the people we know, but Jesus tries valiantly with his group. The apostles turn away from him as he struggles to say what is important to him, to debate their own concerns. A voice tries calling them back to a simpler vision of authority as service, represented by the water jug and basin at the foot of the table and the little loyal dog.
At this meeting we see the common struggles of community in the making. And just as the apostles were confused and uncertain about what was going on, that same drama can be repeated at our own holy gatherings. At the Last Supper Jesus broke bread for his broken community: he was not breaking bread for an assembly of heroes, but a fragile group of followers. Jesus keeps telling us that our fragile humanity does not have to be denied or disguised to be accepted; rather in its fragility, in its shaky beauty, it is uplifted and transformed in the love of Christ.
Before Jesus is handed over into the hands of his enemies, he hands himself over, into the hands of his friends. He puts himself into their safekeeping, our safekeeping. That night before his death, Jesus said two haunting words: "Remember me." When I have gone, remember me; do this in memory of me. You can't imagine anyone looking at that painting and having Jesus say: "Remember me by doing this again and again and again. Do it." And we might say, "What, that?"
Yes, that!
That is what we do in the name of the Lord; we come together, however we are; we listen to the words spoken; we share the story; we break the bread; and we depart to share the Good News.
Sometimes a painter or writer revisits an ancient story and lights it up with new thinking and imagination. The following poem was written by a sixth-former, Holly Green, from Birkenhead - hailed as the Wirral Poet Laureate! Holly is now studying English at Cambridge and she has kindly given me permission to reproduce her poem on the blog. Hope you enjoy it!
Her poem sits well alongside Tanner's wonderful painting, The Annunciation.
The Virgin
It is odd, what the heart recalls. I remember the shade of the light:
late sun, like the skin of an apple, russet and gold.
I remember the backs of my hands - the splay of their bones
as fragile and slim as a bird's. The hands of a girl.
I was stitching a cloth for a man who was rich as a king -
a beautiful thing, to hang on his chamber wall.
I remember its slippery weight, its elegant sprawl,
how it spilled from my lap and pooled like ink on the floor.
I remember my needle, holding the thread in thrall.
I stitched a wild man, dancing alone on a cliff:
copper wire for his hair, a twist of bright steel for each limb.
I used tiny, split pearls for the wealth of a woman's soft tears.
I remember each dimpled curve, pierced by the needle's swift sting.
I picked out a fleet of white boats, hulls slender as flames;
the slashed black silk of the sea, the foaming lace of the waves.
I worked in a trance, 'til the day was almost done.
I was stitching a hill, stained by a ghastly, sun -
the flick of a serpent's tongue - the snickering grin of a skull;
weaving the tale of my cloth 'til the tongue of my needle was blunt.
I stitched a night in December, adazzle with frost.
The breath of a bull, like gauze on the smoke-blue sky.
A mother's astonished lips, at the cheek of her sleeping child.
I used thick silk for the sun on the roof of my home,
the shallow lap of a girl, overflowing with tumbling gold.
I remember night brimmed in the shadows , threatening to spill.
The floorboards hummed.
The darkening sky suddenly throbbed with the beating of wings.
I pulled the thread tight and split it between my teeth.
I put the needle aside. I let the cloth slip from my knee.
Holly Green
