Following the Martyr's path

Between yesterday's feast (solemnity!) of Sts Peter and Paul, today's observance of "the first martyrs of the Church of Rome" and the Pauline Family's special Feast of St. Paul (all by himself, today), you would be right to suspect that "martyrdom" was an essential dimension of Christian life. If you were in London at any time over the past week or so, you would have had even more reason to make that assessment. On Saturday (my free day in the big city!), Sister Mary Lou (American here for 30+ years; phenomenal artist) and I went to Mass at Westminster Cathedral. The bulletin mentioned that there would be a choir mass (Westminster has a choir school and a seraphic choir) for the "Solemnity of St. John Southworth," a diocesan priest martyred in London in 1654, after more than 35 years of parish ministry in a country in which just being ordained was an act of treason. Presumably, since St. John focused his attention on the poor and outcasts, he didn't draw much attention to himself among the high and mighty (at least temporarily). After his martyrdom, Southworth's remains were treated with reverence and spirited off to Douai, home of generations of exiled Catholic Englishmen. There they stayed until 1930, at which point he was given a resting place in the recently built Catholic Cathedral, not far from the neighborhoods where he had ministered.

We thought we would be participating in his memorial (which is a Solemnity, at least at Westminster), but done up big. We were right, but we were also wrong. When we got to the Cathedral, we were handed a program for the Ordination Mass. Since it was a free day for both of us, we were under no time constraints, so both of us considered it a signal grace that we would witness a priestly ordination. (As for me, I had previously been to the ordination of deacons--for the first class of American deacons of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary at St. Clement's Eucharistic Shrine in Boston, and the ordination of three bishops--one of whom became Cardinal McCarrick, but had never been to a regular priestly ordination!) The twist was, this Ordination Mass was celebrated with the "propers' (special prayers) of St John Southwark: all the Mass prayers except for the actual Rite of Ordination were taken from the martyr's page in the missal. The three ordinandi (one of them with a smile he just couldn't control) processed in wearing red stoles; when the time came, they moved down to the center of the Cathedral where the martyr's body was lying in state in a glass casket and joined him, prostrate; at the vesting, they were draped in red--a red they would don again for their First Mass on the Solemnity of Sts Peter and Paul.

Just the Sunday before, Sister Mary Lou and I joined a few dozen others for the "Martyr's Walk." Led

This fresco from Our Lady of Victories parish depicts
Tyburn's triple gallows; you can also make out the "hurdle"
on which the prisoners were dragged to the execution site.

by a local historian and author, the very dynamic Joanna Bogle, the three hour pilgrimage traces the route that many of the English martyrs were dragged along from the torture chambers of Newgate Prison to the gibbet at Tyburn hill. We weren't dragged (though by the time we reached Tyburn (now known as Marble Arch), I did feel kind of ragged, myself), but walked along, now praying a decade of the Rosary, now stopping near some historic location for a bit of backstory. At Tyburn, a monastery now serves as a martyrs' shrine, with the "Tyburn Tree" (gibbet) used as the logo. There we concluded the day with adoration, Benediction and blessed Benedictine hospitality (a "hearty tea" that served as my supper). On the strength of that repast, Sister Mary Lou and I found the energy to keep walking--all the way back to our Kensington High Street bookstore community!



Interesting factoids:

• Here in London, they pronouce "Douai" (which I have only, ever, in all my life heard pronounced "Doo-ay") as "Dow-ee" (rhymes with owee).
• Even when it was completely illegal to celebrate or attend a Catholic Mass, the foreign embassies maintained active chapels. If you could slip into the Sardinian or Spanish embassy, you could safely go to Mass (presuming you could safely slip away). Those embassy chapels became the embryonic parishes of a restored Catholic community in London!
• St Etheldreda's Church, for peculiar reasons of history, is the only Catholic Church in London (outside of embassy chapels) never to have served as a "state church"; the day after our pilgrimage was Etheldreda's (Audrey's) feast day. The locale even gets honorable mention in Shakespeare!
• St Giles in the Field was the church of the lepers, located far from the city center. When the procession of the condemned got that far, someone from the church would typically bring the prisoner a glass of refreshment, a final act of humanity before being hung, drawn and quartered. We learned that St. Giles being the patron of lepers, most European churches of that name most likely originated with a leper colony, far from the populated zones. The current St. Giles in the Field is located near a busy London street, and is an active Anglican community with a strikingly lovely 19th century church (the earlier versions of St. Giles having suffered various fates through the centuries). 

Read Joanna Bogle's description of the annual Martyr's Walk on her blog!

Free day: Westminster Abbey

The adventure started last night, actually. I had been giving the sisters (mostly the seniors) a workshop on social media, but had to end it less than halfway through the planned content so that I would be sure to catch the once-per-hour bus into London to join the sisters there at a parish event. It would be an excellent opportunity to meet the neighbors of our Kensington book center where I spend a couple of days a week. Alas "would have been" is the operative phrase. 35 minutes after the bus was scheduled to for the local stop, one appeared on the horizon. As our ragtag group assembled along the curb, the bus tore by, the driver pointing to the rear of the bus as if to signal that another bus would be coming shortly. Another forty minutes later, and we were all still there, still waiting. Sister Mary Lou came over from the convent to get me. London would have to wait.

And it did wait! After Mass, Sister Mary Lou and I drove into London Town. She was coming anyway, for her "holidays" (vacation). Being an artist, she plans to spend the holidays visiting art museums. Since her first day of vacation corresponded with my free day, we took the Underground together, she to Sloan Square, I to St James Park. My destination: Westminster Abbey. I hoped to be able to get the annual pass so that I could visit "whenever" without adding up the entrance fees. Turns out, I qualify for the free "Clergy" ticket! So I can visit "whenever"!  That gave me the freedom to walk slowly, taking in what came my way without the anxiety of trying to see all the highlights in one visit. In fact, I skipped a lot of the highlights on purpose--and then found the one I think will be my lifelong favorite.

I would show you what I mean, but there was a NO PHOTOGRAPHY sign right at the entrance, so there went that idea.

Anyway, the Abbey resembles nothing so much as a grand gothic mausoleum, but with Baroque and Victorian monuments, not to mention all those burials in the floor itself. There was a certain poignancy to reading the inscriptions of people who were great in their day when now even their grandest exploits, some of them recounted in detail, seem merely quaint today.

I was barely in the door when I caught myself treading over the final resting place of the heroic William Wilberforce. I noticed Henry Purcell suffering a similar indignity from many clueless visitors. Nearby, a memorial to Benjamin Britten and Charles Stanford (didn't we sing his music at My Carmel?), not to mention Ralph Vaughn Williams and Edward Elgar. (Handel's monument was on the other side, facing Shakespeare. What gives?)

As I approached the scientists' area (Darwin, Joules), a young man near me asked whose tomb it was to the left, somewhat obscured by a bit of scaffolding. Unfortunately, the name of the deceased or any clue to his  (?) identity was right beneath the scaffold, completely out of sight. All I could see was a Latin inscription that I couldn't quite translate. I got the "life is Christ" part but what was that part about death? It seemed to be a quite popular graveyard sentiment there at the Abbey--finally an obliging decedent included the Scripture passage in its entirety--with the citation! "For me, to live is Christ and death is gain" (St Paul to the Philippians). Near the same Scripturally enriched tomb was a cordoned-off area where folding chairs wait for the next major celebration (maybe Sunday services, since the Abbey is an active church?); two enormous and elaborate candle holders were tucked way, too.

The burials are along the side aisles and transepts; the nave itself has a few set into the floor, but that's about it until you get to the royal chapels. I saved those chapels for next time, and continued on just getting the lay of the land. Crossing over to the Poet's Corner, I was surprised to see two traces of the Abbey's medieval past: Heroic-sized frescoes, one of the Risen Christ with "doubting" Thomas kneeling as he touches the wounded side, the other of St. Christopher. The two, obviously by the same artist, had strikingly beautiful faces. If only I could have take a picture!!! (You can find details of the images at the bottom of this page from the Abbey website.) I contented myself by remaining there to take it in, while everyone else was intent on identifying the memorial to Jane Austen (tiny and rather drab), the tomb of Chaucer; Lord Byron; Laurence Olivier...  Given that the following day Sr Mary Lou and I planned to join the "Martyr's Walk" pilgrimage along the route taken by so many Jesuit martyrs of the Elizabethan era, I was struck by the sight of Gerard Manley Hopkins' memorial. (I also learned that the patron of the Abbey church is St. Peter; kind of ironic, isn't it, given the history?)

My favorite part of the Abbey (so far) was the Chapter House, a chapel of sorts, but off from the main Church. What is striking about the Chapter House is the remnant of medieval frescoes illustrating the whole of the Book of Revelation. My favorite scene was the depiction of the "casting crowns"; you can also barely pick out the Last Judgment, and the "cloud of witnesses" with their intent faces (though the Abbey detail calls one section the "doom group"!!)

Thanks to the availability of a free Clergy pass, I am looking forward to spending another free day in London visiting the ancient splendors of Westminster!

But I don't want to turn the other cheek!!!

Needless to say, the Lord and I had a bit of a conversation over today's Gospel. "Offer no resistance to one who is evil...turn the other cheek."

"Wait a minute, Jesus," I said to him. "That sounds an awful lot like enabling an already bad situation. Isn't that the same as acquiescing to evil, facilitating it, cooperating with it? Doesn't it let the wrong just entrench itself further?"

"You're not getting it, are you?" Jesus observed. "I don't mean 'give in' with a cowering, servile attitude. That only allows the evil to remain as a slow, simmering threat, and the fear of what might happen ends up having more power over the situation than any actual external action at all. You know what that is like, don't you?"

Come to think of it, I do. You know, too: When people do all they can to avoid another person's having an outburst, they hand over their own dignity to one controlling person (who is, more likely than not, "out of control"). A whole culture of fear can take root, and the only options seem to be fight or flight: either fight back, answering threat with threat, or do whatever it takes to avoid further conflict. Either way leaves the out of control person in control. Jesus seems to be saying to face down the threat by standing your ground; to be willing to take the hits--or to call the
tyrant's bluff.

Sadly, it can be easy to take this Gospel where Jesus does not intend: into situations of domestic violence. Too many seem to understand this challenge at face value as I did, as if Jesus were telling us to become like doormats and let anyone and everyone walk all over us. Too many people give "one more chance" to a spouse or lover with a vicious, violent streak when the real way of standing their ground would be to leave the situation entirely (getting help to do this).

No matter how you read it, today's Gospel is a scary one. Jesus admits that we can be in tough, even unacceptable situations. Good thing he will be there with us!!!

(Pauline) Family News

June is a kind of special month for us; at the end of the month we celebrate our own special feast of St. Paul (right after the day he shares with Peter), so for many of us the anniversary of our vows falls in June. (I actually made first vows on July 2, the Sunday closest to the June 30 feast of St Paul, but my final vows were on June 26.) We kind of take the whole month of June, which most Catholics associate with the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and make it the "month of St. Paul."

So it's especially nice to have some Pauline things to share this first week of the "month of St Paul." For example, last week, our book on the Catholic faith for tween-agers, "Totally Catholic!" was recognized as the top children's book of the year at the Religious Booksellers Trade Exhibit. Pauline laywoman Marlicia Fernandez wrote an article about our Pauline devotion to Mary under the title "Queen of Apostles" in a homeschool association newsletter. And our dear brothers of the Society of St. Paul were featured on NET TV in a video that not only presents the mission very clearly, but demonstrates also the mission and vocation of the religious brother:



Don't forget to follow the Pentecost Novena put together by our sisters in the US, England and Kenya. Come, Holy Spirit!

Meanwhile, on Al Jazeera...

I plastered this all over Twitter and Facebook last week, but in case you do not use those two platforms with any regularity, here's what the week held in store for me:

Early in the week, I got a Twitter message from a member of the production team of Al Jazeera America's program "The Stream." Evidently, the show asks viewers to alert them to any interesting phenomenon they come across on social media, and then follows up if it seems interesting enough, organizing a show around that theme. And someone sent them a picture of Sister Helena.

That and more than one link to online stories featuring that unique Pauline. Well, Sister Helena wasn't available to do a show (she's writing another book! and finishing up a movie!), so they contacted me. And Sister Rose Pacatte, the movie reviewer. And Sister Simone Campbell, the nun on the bus. And Sister Rosemary Nyirumbe, one of Time Magazine's 100 world influencers. And they created a panel discussion of sisters engaging with social media, in real time, with us streaming in via Skype (well, Sister Simone, being a lobbyist, was already in D.C.). That was Thursday night (here in England). The Internet in my room being somewhat unreliable, I had to borrow Sister Mary Lou's computer.

The show was not available in the US during the broadcast, but we had many live viewers from around the world, and I have been getting a lot of feedback from Africa and Egypt about it.  Now that the Thursday program on "Social Sisters" is simply archived on the Internet, you might be able to watch it. (I'm not getting through myself, but that might be the Internet's fault here; my family was able to get it.)

This week I am looking forward to my first trip into the city! On Wednesday, I will meet a Twitter contact for coffee (tea?), and on Thursday Sister Mary Lou and I will go to a children's Mass at the Cathedral where her painting of the Good Shepherd will be featured, and then to Foyles bookshop, where I will meet one of my long-time friends, a professor of World War II history, who is in town for research. And the week after that, several of us are hoping to participate in "Spirit in the City," an outdoor Catholic festival. I'll take my camera, voice recorder, and lots of give-aways!