Thursday, 12 January 2017

'The Belfry' at Bruges - thoughts of G.K.Chesterton.

Sincere, if somewhat belated, New Years greetings to one and all. Severe weather conditions over the Christmas period resulted in loss of internet access for two weeks. Pleased to say that we are once again in touch with the wider world.

Basilica of the Holy Blood - Saint-Baselius Chapel, Bruges, Belgium. By Jim Linwood - originally posted to Flickr. https://commons.wikimedia.org

               I expect many readers of this post will, at some time in their life, have visited  Bruges in Belgium. I have visited it only once, when in the early 1950s as a young teenager and one of the altar-servers at St Elphege Church, Wallington, we were treated by our parish priest, Fr Charles Ward, to a trip to Bruges. It was rather a long time ago and my memory is not as good as I would wish, but we travelled by ferry across the English Channel, then, either by rail or coach to Bruges. It was a great adventure for us boys, for it was not that long after the end of the war, and I doubt that any of us had been abroad before. To be honest my memories of Bruges are vague, but I do remember it as a particularly calm and peaceful city, with many mediaeval churches and buildings, and criss-crossed with canals. In those days motorised traffic was light and the numbers of visitors and tourists far less than they are today. The most important venue for us was almost certainly the Basilica of the Holy Blood, in which a relic of the ‘Precious Blood’ of Christ is housed. Regrettably I cannot remember details, but I strongly recommend the informative and interesting article on Wikipedia concerning this. The one building that does stand out in my mind, is the Belfry, which literally dominates the Bruges skyline, and about which G.K.Chesterton, in his short story ‘The Tower’, has this to say:-

 'Rozenhoedkaai Canal' -Belfry in background.(ack. Amazing Belgium.be)

The Tower

          ‘I have been standing where everybody has stood, opposite the great Belfry Tower of Bruges, and thinking, as everyone has thought (though not perhaps said), that it is built in defiance of all decencies of architecture.  It is made in deliberate disproportion to achieve the one startling effect of height. It is a church on stilts. But this sort of sublime deformity is characteristic of the whole fancy and energy of these Flemish cities.  Flanders has the flattest and most prosaic landscapes, but the most violent and extravagant of buildings.  Here Nature is tame; it is civilisation that is untamable. Here the fields are as flat as a paved square; but, on the other hand, the streets and roofs are as uproarious as a forest in a great wind. The waters of wood and meadow slide as smoothly and meekly as if they were in the London water-pipes. But the parish pump is carved with all the creatures out of the wilderness. Part of this is true, of course, of all art.  We talk of wild animals, but the wildest animal is man .  There are sounds in music that are more ancient and awful than the cry of the strangest beast at night. And so also there are buildings that are shapeless in their strength, seeming to lift themselves slowly like monsters from the primal mire, and there are spires that seem to fly up suddenly like a startled bird.’


                                                            Bruges - stone carving


            ‘This savagery even in stone is the expression of the special spirit in humanity.  All the beasts of the field are respectable; it is only man who has broken loose. All animals are domestic animals; only man is ever un-domestic.  All animals are tame animals; it is only we who are wild. And doubtless also, while this queer energy is common to all human art, it is also generally characteristic of Christian art among the arts of the world.  This is what people really mean when they say that Christianity is barbaric, and arose in ignorance. As a matter of historic fact, it didn’t; it arose in the most equably civilised period the world has ever seen.

            But it is true that there is something in it that breaks the outline of perfect and conventional beauty, something that dots with anger the blind eyes of the Apollo and lashes to a cavalry charge the horses of the Elgin Marbles. Christianity is savage, in the sense that it is primeval; there is in it a touch of the Negro hymn. I remember a debate in which I had praised militant music in ritual, and someone asked me if I could imagine Christ walking down the street before a brass band. I said I could imagine it with the greatest ease; for Christ definitely approved  a natural noisiness at a great moment.  When the street children shouted too loud, certain priggish disciples did begin to rebuke them in the name of good taste. He said: “If these were silent the very stones would cry out.”

                                                  Bruges - stone figure (ack Pixabay)

With these words He called up all the wealth of artistic creation that has been founded on this creed. With those words He founded Gothic architecture.  For in a town like this, which seems to have grown Gothic as a wood grows leaves, anywhere and anyhow, any odd brick or moulding may be carved off into a shouting face.  The front of vast buildings is thronged with open mouths, angels praising God, or devils defying Him.  Rock itself is racked and twisted, until it seems to scream.  The miracle is accomplished; the very stones cry out.

            But though this furious fancy is certainly a specialty of men among creatures, and of Christian art among arts, it is still most notable in the art of Flanders.  All Gothic buildings are full of extravagant things in detail; but this is an extravagant thing in design.  All Christian temples worth talking about have gargoyles; but Bruges Belfry is a gargoyle. It is an un-naturally long-necked animal, like a giraffe. The same impression of exaggeration is forced on the mind at every corner of a Flemish town. And if anyone asks, “Why did the people of these flat countries instinctively raise these riotous and towering monuments?”, the only answer one can give is, “Because they were the people of these flat countries.” If anyone asks, “Why did the men of Bruges sacrifice architecture and everything to the sense of dizzy and divine heights?”, we can only answer, “Because Nature gave them no encouragement to do so.”’


                                                  The Belfry, Bruges.  (ack. Pixabay)


            `As I stare at the Belfry, I think with a sort of smile, of some of my friends in London who are quite sure of how children will turn out if you give them what they call ‘the right environment’. It is a troublesome thing, environment, for it sometimes works positively and sometimes negatively, and more often between the two. A beautiful environment may make a child love beauty; it may make him bored with beauty, most likely the two effects will mix and neutralise each other. Most likely, that is, the environment will make hardly any difference at all.  In the scientific style of history (which was recently fashionable, and is still conventional), we always had a list of countries that had owed their characteristics to their physical conditions.

            Thus Spaniards (it was said) are passionate because their country is hot; Scandinavians adventurous because their country is cold; Englishman naval because they are islanders; Switzers free because they are mountaineers. It is all very nice in its way. Only unfortunately I am quite certain that I could make up quite as long a list exactly contrary in its argument point-blank against the influence of their geographical environment.  Thus Spaniards have discovered more continents than Scandinavians because their hot climate discouraged them from exertion. Thus Dutchmen have fought for their freedom quite as bravely as Switzers because the Dutch have no mountains.  Thus Pagan Greece and Rome and many Mediterranean peoples have specially hated the sea because they had the nicest sea to deal with, the easiest sea to manage. I could extend the list for ever. But however long it was, two examples would certainly stand up in it as pre-eminent and unquestionable.  The first is that the Swiss, who live under staggering precipices and spires of eternal snow, have produced no art or literature at all, and are by far the most mundane, sensible, and business-like people in Europe. The other is that the people of Belgium, who live in a country like a carpet, have, by an inner energy, desired to exalt their towers till they struck the stars.

            As it is therefore quite doubtful whether a person will go specially with his environment or especially against his environment, I cannot comfort myself with the thought that the modern discussions about environment are of much practical value.  But I think that I will not write any more about these modern theories, but go on looking at the Belfry of Bruges. I would give them the greater attention if I were not pretty well convinced that the theories will have disappeared a long time before the Belfry.’

(ack. 'Tremendous Trifles' by G.K.Chesterton)

 "Without the divine assistance we cannot resist the might of so many and such powerful enemies;  now this assistance is granted only to prayer;  therefore, without prayer there is no salvation"
 (ack. 'thoughts from St Alphonsus')

Sunday, 4 December 2016

'The Way of the Cross'

Wednesday, 30th November was the feast of St Andrew.

One of the twelve apostles, Andrew was the younger brother of Simon Peter; both were fishermen, and both  were invited by Jesus to be ‘fishers’ of men. After the coming of the Holy Ghost, Andrew preached in Palestine, and then in Scythia, Epirus and Thrace. He was martyred by crucifixion at Patras in Achaea in Greece. Because St. Andrew deemed himself unworthy to be crucified on the same type of cross as that on which Christ had been crucified, he asked to be tied to a 'Crux decussata' or an X shaped cross. St Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland, and a relic is kept at St Andrews Metropolitan Cathedral, Edinburgh. A beautiful prayer is offered at Second Vespers (November 30), the ‘Antiphon at the Magnificat’:-     
                       ‘When the blessed Andrew had come to the place where the cross was prepared, he cried out and said:  O good Cross, so long desired, and now made ready for my longing soul!  I come unto thee with confidence and joy; do thou likewise joyfully receive me, the disciple of Him who hung upon thee.'

        'Crucifixion of St Andrew' -  by Matia Preti (1613-1699)

I am currently re-reading ‘Henry Garnet (1555 – 1606) and the Gunpowder Plot’ by Philip Caraman S.J.. This is an engrossing account of the life and death of Henry Garnet, a Jesuit priest, who was born in Derbyshire in 1555, educated at Winchester, and after studying for the priesthood in Rome, returned secretly to England in 1586 where he was to spend the following 20 years building up the Jesuit mission, culminating in his execution in 1606 for alleged complicity in the Gunpowder Plot, a conspiracy which he wholeheartedly condemned but was powerless to prevent.
    Whilst reading this book, a few thoughts come to mind. Although these events occurred over 400 years ago, anti-Catholicism in England in one form or another, has existed in varying degrees since that time. The 17th century was a period of great suffering for English Catholics. There were many martyrs executed for their Catholic faith, and many Catholics dispossessed of their homes and property for the same reason. England was a mission country, where priests were forbidden by law to enter under pain of death. During the latter part of the 17th and all of 18th century, as well as the vital role of the priests of the English Mission,  the Catholic faith in England was preserved mainly through established Catholic families of means and property, with personal clergy and private chapels, offering Holy Mass and the Sacraments to local Catholics. Often such families employed and housed Catholic families, creating small  mutually supportive Catholic communities.  Certain Catholic foreign embassies in London opened their embassy chapels to the local Catholic populace for Mass and the Sacraments.   Anti-Catholic laws were still on the Statute books, and could be enacted, although this became increasingly rare. The mid -19th century saw Catholic emancipation , with steady development of the  Church in England, Wales, and Scotland, with new dioceses, churches, schools, and even hospitals. The large influx of Catholic immigrants from Ireland, demanded urgent spiritual and practical support,  but also provided a readily available and willing labour force on which the Church could call.  The revival  of the English church at this time owes much to the influence of the Oxford Movement and the conversion to Catholicism of several influential Anglicans, but it also owes a huge amount to the Irish, of whom some 80% or thereabouts were Catholic.
The following table shows the numbers of Irish-born residents in England, Scotland & Wales, from 1841-1921:-       
  • xxxxx1841xx 415,725
  • xxxxx1851xx 727,326
  • xxxxx1861xx 805,717
  • xxxxx1871xx 774,310
  • xxxxx1881xx 781,119
  • xxxxx1891xx 653,122
  • xxxxx1901xx 631,629
  • xxxxx1911xx 550,040
  • xxxxx1921xx 523,767
(ack.  http://www.irish-genealogy-toolkit.com/Irish-immigration-to-Britain)

The first half of the 20th century was a period of consolidation within the Church, with a high number of ordinations to the priesthood and vocations to the religious life, both men and women. The Catholic Church under Popes Benedict XV,  Pius XI and Pius XII constantly sought peace in the world, sending a  powerful plea to a world torn apart by warfare, a plea largely ignored by  the world's statesmen.  Political upheavals on a massive scale, two World Wars interspersed with specific national wars, and economic uncertainty on a global scale, combined by the 1960s to produce an increasingly radical and  materialistic society, which  inevitably had a  knock-on effect on the Catholic church.  The drastic and unsettling changes brought about by Vatican 2, particularly in the liturgy and traditional devotions of the Church, affected – some would say infected, every sphere of Catholic life, especially Catholic education and vocations, which plummeted in numbers. Over the past fifty years we have seen State legislation  on matters completely opposed to Catholic teaching; viz. legalised abortion, same-sex marriage, IVF,  ‘normalisation’ of homosexuality as a lifestyle, effective denial of ‘conscience’ rights in certain professions and jobs, dubious ‘equal rights’ legislation ; the list goes on.  It is fair to say that compared to certain countries where the Church is openly persecuted, the Catholic Church in England today enjoys freedom of expression and worship,  and exercises a certain influence for good, however Christian beliefs and principles are increasingly under attack by influential and powerful secular lobbies, supported by politicians in high places.  Regrettably there have been public scandals, particularly child abuse, involving priests and religious, which have done great harm to the Church, with its perceived image not helped by recent confusing and contradictory statements from Rome concerning certain doctrinal issues, statements which have yet to be clarified. To conclude, we know through our Faith that the battle for souls between good and evil, between God and Satan,  will continue until the end of time. Above all, we can be certain from Christ’s death and His Resurrection from the dead,  that good will prevail.


                                                   Fr Henry Garnet S.J.  1555-1606

   Returning to the 16th century and the reign of Queen Elizabeth,  the following extract from Fr. Henry Garnet’s biography, illustrates  the formidable difficulties faced by Catholics of the time.  
         Fr. Campion and Fr. Persons were two of the first Jesuit priests operating in England during this period. Fr Campion was convicted of 'treason' viz. working as a Catholic priest in England, and was hanged in  December 1581. Fr Persons returned to Rome, where he died in 1610,  having devoted his life to the establishment of seminaries and colleges in Europe specifically intended for the formation of missionary priests to be sent to England.
           Fr Southwell and Fr Garnet, also Jesuit priests, followed in the footsteps of their colleagues, with Fr Southwell convicted for working as a Catholic priest, and hanged at Tyburn in 1595. Fr Garnet, the subject of this biography, was hanged in 1606 for 'treason' – alleged complicity in the Gunpowder Plot. 
          Fr.William Weston, a Jesuit and Catholic priest, was imprisoned from 1586 to 1603, when he was exiled, spending his remaining years in the English seminaries at Seville and Valladolid in Spain. 
          Fr. Aquaviva was the Jesuit Superior General, based I think, in Rome.

 'Pastoral difficulties in England in 1587'  

‘The government’s answer to the successful mission of Campion and Persons had been the Act of 1581, which made it a treasonable offence to withdraw the Queen’s subjects from the religion established by law; it had also imposed a fine of £20 a month on all who refused to attend Church. 
             In March 1587, after Southwell and Garnet had been in England less than a year, this Act was amended to enable the Crown, in default of the fine, to take two-thirds of the property of the recusant, as he was now called, ‘leaving the third part only ….. for the maintenance of the same offender, his wife, children and family.’
             It was the self-sacrifice of the Catholics who attended Mass under this dire penalty that won Garnet’s admiration. No word of his was exaggerated in his praise of their splendid spirit; here was heroism that Aquaviva could understand, and Garnet was determined to spare him no details of his own experience. The Act, as he explained, covered not only the land but the town houses as well as the country estates of the Catholic gentry.
          ‘At this very moment of writing’, Garnet explained, ‘orders have been sent to every county commanding this barbarous legislation to be enacted. Would that all foreign Catholics at least appreciated our calamity, if they cannot see it with their own eyes: there would be tears at the sight of anxious widows, orphaned little boys, the break-up of noble families, the almost extreme penury of Catholics. Earlier we had seen this in some measure and it caused us extreme sadness and distress of soul; now we witness still harsher laws. This is the scene outside the walls of prison, at the entrance to the courts. I say nothing of the use of manacles and torture. Imagine what justice means …. and mercy also, when we owe it to the Queen’s personal pleasure that we are not annihilated, that we are yet alive and breathing, particularly at a time when any utterly base creature can cast it in our teeth that we are unfitted to have our share of life in common with them.’
           Garnet is referring here to a clause in the Act that empowered any person whatsoever, to delate his neighbour as a Catholic, and thus, for his own pecuniary gain, bring down on him the severity of the law. With cumulative eloquence Southwell described the same enactment: ‘We are made the common theme of every railing declaimer,’ he wrote, ‘abused without means of hope or remedy by every wretch with the most infamous names. No tongue is so foresworn but it is of credit against us: none so true but it is thought false in our defence.’ Indeed, Catholics were without legal means of protecting their property, homes or family. 
           On the plea of assisting the local justices, bands of ruffians could rob, housebreak, drive off cattle, take possession of lands as they pleased: Weston had given a picture of the desperate situation even before this Act was passed. Without exaggeration, he told how every wretch ’lay in ambush for them (Catholics), betrayed them, attacked them with violence ….. plundered them  at night, drove away their flocks, stole their cattle’. 
           Now  Garnet witnessed yet worse persecution, for in the spring of 1587, ‘Orders in Council’ enforcing the new fines, were sent out to every county; during the summer and autumn assizes. Catholics, both prominent and simple, had been summoned for not attending Mass; the records of their appearance and reasons for refusing to attend services are extant in county archives.  At York alone hundreds of citizens were imprisoned; their replies before the Bench show a grasp of the fundamental principles of their belief and give deeply moving witness to their sincerity. Only a few among them yielded to pressure; and they, as Garnet explains, were men who had always been timid and were now forced under duress, to abjure their faith and ‘in the presence of the sheriff of their county to attend the profane services’. Those who remained stalwart in their resolution, reported Garnet, ‘now await the extreme penalty and all that the worst injustice can devise’.

Ack.  ‘Henry Garnet 1555-1605 and the Gunpowder Plot.’ by Philip Caraman S.J. (Longmans, Green & Co. 1964)

For the next 100 years or so, the survival of the faith in England was in the balance, with little hope of improvement in the foreseeable future.  Among the  missionary clergy,  one man in particular, a convert and secular priest, the  Rev Richard Challoner (1691-1781) later Bishop Challoner, was to become probably the most influential voice and driving force of English Catholicism in the 18th century.  The extract below, taken from ‘Richard Challoner, the English Mission 1730-1742’ gives some idea of the hardships facing English Catholics in 1730.

            ‘When Challoner returned to England in the late summer of 1730, he found a Church silenced and generally alienated from society, with Catholics effectively barred from much community life. 
     Apprehension, frustration and loneliness, arising from the cumulative effect of perpetual ostracism and incessant injustice and oppression, had replaced physical martyrdom. 
     In 1723, for instance, £100,000 was automatically assessed on Catholic landowners above 18 years of age, Catholic gentry were debarred from sitting or voting in either House of Parliament; they were incapable of inheriting land so that family estates passed to Protestant next-of-kin should they so choose; they were unable to purchase land but were required to pay double land tax on such real property as they owned; they were forbidden to keep arms and were liable to be deprived of any horse above the value of £5. 
     They were disqualified from holding any office in the army or the navy; nor could they practise as a barrister, doctor, or schoolmaster. 
     They could not send their children to be educated abroad without a fine; and in order that due check might be kept on them and their property they were bound to register their name and estate under penalty of forfeiture, and to enrol all deeds. 
     Although some laws were rarely enforced, they could be and occasionally were, on individual Catholics.
     The situation for the clergy was even worse, with their very presence in the country illegal.   Between 1700-1778 the law was summed up as follows:-
“By the statute of Queen Elizabeth, 27, c.2, it is High Treason for any man who is proved to be a priest, to breathe in this kingdom.”

                                          Bishop Richard Challoner  (1691-1781)
                "Nothing," he writes, "makes more for the old Religion, than an impartial view of the first origin of all these new sects of pretenders to Reformation. Every circumstance that attended the change of Religion introduced by these Reformers, demonstrates that God had no hand in their work ...... The motives which set these men to work were visibly bad: the means they employed to compass their ends were illegal and unchristian; and the fruits that ensued both in Church and State, and in the lives and manners of particulars, were such as a good tree could never have produced. All which things, as they are undeniably plain from History, clearly show that none of these new sects have any share in the Church of Christ; which therefore must be sought for elsewhere, viz. amongst
the followers of the old Religion: there Christ left it and there alone we shall find it."

   (ack. 'The grounds of the old religion' - Bishop Challoner 1741)                                                    

                                    Our Lady of Walsingham

'O Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God and our most gentle Queen and Mother, look down in mercy upon England, Thy Dowry, and upon us all who greatly hope and trust in Thee. By Thee it was that Jesus, our Saviour and our hope was given unto the world; and He has given Thee to us that we might hope still more. Plead for us Thy children, whom Thou dost receive and accept at the foot of the Cross O sorrowful Mother. Intercede for our separated brethren, that with us in the one true fold, they may be united to the chief shepherd, the Vicar of thy Son. Pray for us all dear Mother,  that by faith fruitful in good works, we may all deserve to see and praise God, together with Thee in our heavenly home. Amen.'

Sunday, 2 October 2016

'Afternoon in Westminster Cathedral' - Caryll Houselander


Westminster Cathedral

 Westminster Cathedral holds special memories for me, starting just after the end of the Second World War, when as a young boy of nine, I was sent as a boarder to the Cathedral Choir School. We attended daily Mass in the Crypt, and during the week were often required to serve Mass for visiting priests in one or other of the Cathedral side-chapels. The Choir sang regularly in the Cathedral itself, increasingly so as it became more proficient under the direction of George Malcolm, the inspirational   Musical Director. I loved my time there, but a combination of poor health and family reasons led to my leaving before my twelfth birthday. Over the years I have visited the Cathedral many times, and inevitably I experience a pleasurable feeling of ‘coming home’.
I admire very much the literary works of Caryll Houselander, particularly her poetry, and this post reproduces four sections of her poem ‘Afternoon in Westminster Cathedral’, written before the war ended, and published in her book of poetry ‘The Flowering Tree’. The poem is divided into nine verses, reproduced below are verses 3(part), 7(part), 8, and 9.

‘Afternoon in Westminster Cathedral’

v3 (part)

Christ is weeping over Jerusalem.
His tears hang in the mist
over the city of London.
His tears water the parched dust,
in Spain and in Mexico.
On the white snow of Holy Russia
His tears are frozen,
and the drops of His blood
fall down softly through the snowdrift,
like the leaves of a dark rose.

The world will not serve
a God, who is also a poor man,
Who has chosen
bread and dust
for the revelation of love.

The world will bow
to a God,
Who is out of the reach
of the common people,
remote, like a jewelled icon
set in a circle of flames,
an ineffectual loveliness,
that neither demands nor rebukes.

On the loom of iniquity,
with black and cunning fingers,
the hands of the world have woven
a golden garment,
to put on God.

Now with a gesture
of terrible patience,
Christ submits,
to the ignorance
and the misery
of an exasperated people,
who think it is He,
who despoiled them,
that the shepherd struck His sheep,
for a tawdry garment of gold
tarnished with tears.

They dress Him up
like a clown
in a red cloak.

Over the altar
there is a painted crucifix,
long ago
there was a painted cross
in Russia
and Mexico.

In Spain
there was a crucifix
carved in ivory,
each drop of blood
a dark and tragic garnet,
the hair engraved
and inlaid,
with threads of pure gold.

It is trampled into the mud.

'Holy Family' apse mosaic in St Joseph's chapel. Designed by Christopher Hobbs;   installed in 2003

 In England
there was a crucifix
carved in wood.
The face was a child’s face
that smiled.
The smile was the glow
of the heart that shone with love.

It is in a museum, behind a glass case.

Lifted up,
dire in His poverty,
stark in His nakedness,
nailed like vermin,
Christ is ruling
the inward kingdom.

The kingdom of God
is not
the works of the mind of man,
or the gathered treasures of art,
or the Churches built with hands,
or the defended city.

The Kingdom of God
is the integrity
of a man’s heart.

Lifted up above the ruins
of centuries of the dreams of men,
Christ is ruling upon the Cross.

      Nave and High Altar
   v 7 (part)
There are a few people confessing their sins,
a whispering, like the rustle of rain in leaves.  

Each one who brings his story
of tedious little failures,
over and over again,
brings in his patient hands
and his contrite will,
all who have failed,
all who will not come
to the source to drink.

When the rain falls on one soul,
it falls on the parched dust
of the whole world. 

When one man is driven
by sorrow for sin,
to the everlasting arms,
through the dark waters,
his soul is drawn
by invisible light.
Like a fragment
of broken glass,
worn smooth and round by the sea.
It shines with the strange beauty
of the salt of his sorrow,
and in his single heart,
the whole world
is at rest
on the limitless shores of peace.
Like a sea jewel laid at last,
by the unresting waves,
on the quiet sands in the sun.

A few are confessing their sins.
There is a feathery rustle,
like birds in the wide branches,
of an old spreading tree. 

 Lady Chapel - Tree of Life (mosaic), designed by Richard Anning Bell  (ack. Cambridge 2000 gallery)

In the cathedral
through ages and ages of men,
the people come and go.
They sorrow, but One endures,
they falter, but One is strong,
they pass, but One remains,
they change, but One is unchanging.

Christ is there,
in a corner behind a lamp,
He is in the world,
as a man’s heart in his breast,
almost forgotten,
until a lover,
lays her head upon the piteous ribs,
of the cage of bone,
and hears
the mysterious beat
of the pulse of life. 


 Westminster Cathedral - mosaic of Our Lady of Walsingham
  (picture by MOtty - Wikimedia Commons)


We have rejected
the yoke that is sweet,
and bowed to the yoke of fear.

We have feared discomfort and loss,
pain of body and mind,
the pang of hunger and thirst,
we have been abject
before the opinions of men.

We have been afraid
of the searching ray
of truth.
Of the simple laws
of our own life.

We have feared
the primitive beauty
of human things.
Of love
and of birth
and of death.

We have lost
the integrity
of the human heart.

We have gone to the dying embers for warmth,
to the flickering lamp for light,
we have set our feet on the quicksand,
instead of the rock.

We are the mediocre,
we are the half givers,
we are the half lovers,
we are the savourless salt.

Lord Jesus Christ,
restore us now,
to the primal splendour
of first love.
To the austere light
of the breaking day.

Let us hunger and thirst,
let us burn in the flame.
Break the hard crust
of complacency.
Quicken in us
the sharp grace of desire.

Let us not sit content
by the dying embers,
let the embers fall into cold ash,
let the flickering lamp gutter and die.
Cover with darkness
the long shadows
thronging the lamp.
Make the soul’s night,
absolute and complete,
the shrine of one star.

Shine in us,
Shadowless Light.
Flame in us
Fire of Love.
Burn in us,
Morning star.
Go with us!

Caryll Houselander

 High Altar and Crucifix  (ack. London and Neighbourhood website)

You may find the following link of interest:-   http://umblepie-northernterritory.blogspot.co.uk/2008/03/reminiscences-of-boy-chorister-i-have.html

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...