Blackfen UCM Cream Tea...

After the events of last night, I found it pretty difficult to get up in time for Mass. The first indication that Sylvester was still feeling poorly was shown by the fact that he hadn't, as is his usual custom, jumped onto my pillow to demand food. I discovered him still lying in the cat basket.

He did manage to get himself to the kitchen to eat a little breakfast, which was reassuring, and so, realising that there was little I could do for him anyway, I left for Mass and Exposition.

The ladies of the UCM had arranged to have a Cream Tea & Sandwiches event in the Presbytery garden after Benediction. I wanted to check on Sylvester, so I drove home. He was still sleeping in the cat basket, but purred when I stroked him, and I noticed that he'd eaten a little more food. Reassured that I wasn't going to have to drive him straight back to the vet, I went back to church for lunch.

After all the excitement, I figured that a little alcoholic refreshment would be in order, and, as the sun was shining, I went out into the garden, where a little marquee had been set up as a "Beer Tent" - although most people were drinking Pimms. The majority of people stayed in the small hall, as it was a little on the nippy side, but, when the sun came out it was beautiful. We all chatted about the success of the Holy Father's visit, and I recounted how Boosey & Hawkes, James MacMillan's music publishers, were really on the ball, as they had contacted me on Twitter after noting that I liked his music, as well as starting up a "Spot James MacMillan" thread - he did seem to have attended pretty much everything! Fr. Tim then decided to adopt the classical "looking into the distance" pose which seems to be a favourite...

His Hermeneuticalness did his best to look pastorally sensitive as I recounted my midnight escapades...

He, Jonathan (Blackfen's Senior MC) and Greg (of the Dangermouse socks) did their best to keep my spirits up by cracking jokes about Sylvester-vindaloo versus Sylvester-biryani and a full Requiem Mass with absolutions at the cat-afalque. I hasten to point out that it was all in jest, and I'm sure that, had I been in floods of tears, they would have been more than sympathetic... As it was, they really cheered me up.

I managed to catch a few of the UCM ladies having a brief break after they had cleared everything away...

When I got home, I found Sylvester sleeping again, and decided that I could probably do with a short nap myself. Later on, I woke up to find Sylvester on my pillow, which was wonderful. He's still looking frail, but perhaps he's not quite ready for that Requiem...

Bexley Deanery Mission Year...

On Friday, we celebrated the end of the Bexley Deanery's Mission Year, which also happened to be the Year of Priests. Bishop Pat Lynch, Auxiliary for the Archdiocese of Southwark, came along to Blackfen to celebrate a Mass in honour of Blessed John Henry Newman.

We did our best to "sing the Mass" rather than having the four-hymn sandwich approach - this meant that we sang the Introit, Responsorial Psalm, Alleluia, and the offertory and Communion antiphons to simple psalm tones, demonstrating what should be done at the Ordinary Form Mass. We also sang three of Newman's own hymns - Praise to the Holiest, Firmly I believe and truly and Lead kindly light - at the Offertory, Communion and at the end of Mass.

I took a few photos, but, as I was singing over by the organ, I didn't have the best of views of the Sanctuary, and my knee was a little sore, so I wasn't able to wander round taking more photos afterwards, as I usually do. I did persuade a small group to pose...

After Mass, the wonderful Blackfen UCM had provided a few nibbles and cups of tea...

A lovely way to end our Mission Year.

Kitty-Related Emergency...

I was just settling down to a late blogging session following our Mass to celebrate the end of the Bexley Deanery Mission Year, when Sylvester came home.

I didn't see him arrive - I was in the living room, sitting at my computer and editing some photos for use on the blog - but I heard him struggling with the cat flap in the kitchen. This is unusual - he doesn't normally have any problems with the cat flap, apart from the odd occasion when he likes to lurk, half-in and half-out, while he checks for foxes, other cats, and rain.

I then heard Sylvester jump down from the kitchen counter - the cat flap is up in the window, as I don't have a back door. And then he yowled.

At first, I thought this was the prelude to a massive furball production. He yowls, retches and regurgitates a hairball, which I then need to clear up before I step in it. So, I immediately turned towards him, to see where the furball was to be deposited. No furball was forthcoming, but Sylvester looked as if he was in serious pain, and he flopped over onto his side, still yowling.

I picked him up ever so gently, and held him against my shoulder while I felt for any obvious bites, and he purred a bit (which nearly broke my heart) but, although his back and hind quarters seemed to be giving him a great deal of discomfort, I couldn't see any obvious damage.

I put him on top of the sofa, but he seemed even more uncomfortable than he had been on the floor. By this time I was panicking - Sylvester just doesn't behave like this. I abandoned the photos and the blog post, and immediately started looking up emergency vet surgeries.

The only one I could find was in Victoria, which is central London. Quite a trek, but Sylvester was in pain, and I couldn't leave him like that all night. Victoria is about 16 miles away, and I thought it would take me about 45 minutes to drive there. I phoned, explained the situation and then went to find the cat basket.

It was a measure of how ill Sylvester was that he didn't struggle when I put him inside. Normally he'll fight tooth and claw to stay out of the basket... I've even found him holding the sides with all four feet as I try to push him in through the front. Not this time. He yowled, and tried to back out, but it was a half-hearted attempt.

To make matters worse, I needed to go and get petrol... I had planned to fill up the car in the morning, on my way to Mass. It was 11:30pm by this time, and there aren't many petrol stations around which are open that late - a few years ago there were loads, but they all seem to have gone out of business.

I forgot about the speed camera just outside Bexleyheath... I wasn't very much over the speed limit, about 38 mph, I thought, but the road is downhill, and the camera is a very sensitive one. It flashed. I will be getting something nasty through the post in the next day or so...

I found the Animal Hospital very easily, which was just as well, because Sylvester had been emitting pitiful cries and yowls for the whole journey. I was quite a wreck, imagining the worst.

An examination failed to reveal any major injury, but it did reassure the vet that Sylvester hadn't had a stroke. The vet was unwilling to X-ray him, because that would have involved a general anaesthetic, and as the cat is about 17 years old, this is not something to be rushed. He agreed that Sylvester was in some pain, but thought that the most likely explanation was a fight with another cat or an encounter with a car which had left him bruised and a little battered. A painkilling injection was given, along with an antibiotic in case there had been a bite from another cat. I was told to keep an eye on him over the weekend, and to seek further advice if there wasn't any improvement, or if Sylvester's condition deteriorated.

I was also given the address of a 24-hour Animal Hospital in Thamesmead, which is a good deal nearer to where I live...

The journey back was considerably quieter, which, I guess, means that the painkiller must have helped. Sylvester wasn't quite himself, however, and he didn't try to escape from the cat basket the minute I opened it. In fact, he's still in there, and so I'm hoping that he will get a good night's sleep... On that note, I think I might try to get some sleep myself...

Lacking Inspiration...

Was it really only a week ago that the Holy Father came to these shores?

After the intensity of the past few days, I'm feeling rather washed out and lacking in inspiration for the blog. I have several things simmering gently in draft form, but they're not quite ready.

However, all is not lost. A few weeks ago I decided to record the Litany of Loreto, which we usually chant after the Rosary on a Thursday evening at Blackfen. It's a beautiful prayer, calling for the intercession of Our Lady under her many titles, such as "Morning star," "Tower of ivory" and "Refuge of sinners."

I think it sounds even more beautiful in Latin...

Sorry for the grotty camera angle - I had to leave the camera on the pew and go and sit to the side so as not to swamp the microphone... I considered not joining in with the chant for all of, oooh, 10 seconds, but it's one of my favourites, so I just left the camera in place. It took me a little time to move far away enough, as I didn't want to rattle the crutches too much.

Enjoy!

Petition Of Thanks To The Holy Father...

Jeffrey Steel wants to get a petition up to thank the Holy Father for his visit to the UK. Go right on over and sign in the combox!

Gay Masses Approved By The Vatican??

Just before the Holy Father arrived, I listened again to the Radio 4 programme, The Pope's British Divisions. No, not because I wanted to hear myself again... Seriously, though, there was quite a lot to take in, especially the dire state of catechesis in the country which leaves sixth formers convinced that you can be both pro-abortion and a practising Catholic.

But I was struck by a comment made to the people protesting outside the Soho Masses. Mark Dowd told them that these Masses, for the LGBT community, were approved by the Vatican.

For those of my readers who are a little unclear, LGBT isn't a sandwich - that's a BLT - but it stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered.

Why anyone would want to go to a church while declaring their sexual orientation to all and sundry is beyond my comprehension. I don't describe myself as a heterosexual when I go to Mass... or when I do anything else, for that matter. My sexuality is my private business, and I don't feel the need to label myself with it.

Listening more carefully to the interview, I was struck by the following exchange:

[Mark Dowd] So did the parish priest, Mgr Seamus O’Boyle, get the all-clear from Rome for this controversial service?

[Fr O’Boyle] Well obviously, when you do something like this, some Catholics don’t like the idea; some priests wouldn’t like the idea of it, so, inevitably, Rome is aware: and the guidelines that we prepared were actually sent for comment to Rome so that Rome was aware, also able to say “Yea” or “Nay” and I have to say that at the time and certainly continually that Rome has been very supportive

[Mark Dowd] Is this at just some junior level or pretty high up?

[Fr O’Boyle] No that would be quite high up, and particularly because at the time it was Cardinal Murphy O’Connor who was the Archbishop and he could talk cardinal to cardinal as it were and he was talking to Cardinal Levada who in a previous life had been the Archbishop of San Francisco, had an understanding...

[Mark Dowd] Is it likely that the Pope knows about this Mass?

[Fr O’Boyle] It wouldn’t surprise me, he knows Cardinal Levada very well. It could be that it has been mentioned;

Fr. Seamus O'Boyle is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Westminster. So, presumably, he knows what he's talking about. Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor had a chat with Cardinal Levada, and they had an understanding.

An understanding of what, exactly? And why was it necessary to talk cardinal-to-cardinal?

Terence, over at Queering the Church, appears to be convinced that Cardinal Levada has full knowledge of the "Gay" Masses (as some have taken to calling them.) He also writes that, responding to the observation that homosexual activity is contrary to church teaching, he had said in the interview:

"The simple fact is that across the world, Catholics disagree with, and do not comply with Church teaching – no, Vatican teaching – on a whole range of sexual ethics matters."

Quite apart from the dismissive "Vatican teaching" slur, I am rather concerned that his views are rather representative of the congregation. In other words, the Soho Masses are occasions where people who are openly flouting the teachings of the Church are going up to receive Holy Communion, and there is no apparent attempt to encourage them to examine their consciences.

Do not misunderstand me, I am not saying that people of a homosexual inclination are not able to receive Communion. I am stating the fact that anyone in a state of Mortal Sin is unable to receive Communion - and that applies whatever their sexual orientation, whether they are gay, straight or sexually aroused by high-heeled black leather boots. Homosexual activity is a Mortal Sin. Exactly the same applies, in case you hadn't realised it, to heterosexual activity, outside the marriage act which is open to procreation. That means contraception is out too.

Terence, on the other hand, appears to think that, just because people all over the world do not obey Church teaching, that makes it ok. It doesn't - people all over the world commit murder, but that doesn't mean we should allow it to go unchallenged.

The complaints about the Soho Masses have been pretty vociferous, mainly because, according to William Oddie in his recent article for the Catholic Herald,

"It is now clear beyond peradventure that those who attend the Masses are nearly all what the archdiocese calls “non-celibate gay people” who intend to continue to defy Catholic teaching."

Laurence England has an excellent post summarising the problems with the Soho Masses, and explaining why they are not truly pastoral.

Despite the growing scandal, in the interview with Mark Dowd, Archbishop Nichols makes it quite clear that he will continue to support the Soho Masses.

"Anybody who is trying to cast a judgement on the people who come forward for Communion really ought to learn to hold their tongue."

The problem is, of course, that we each ought to judge ourselves before coming forward to receive Communion. But, that assumes we have been properly instructed in the teachings of the Church. Sadly, it seems that catechesis is as inadequate at the Soho Masses as it has been in Catholic schools. Perhaps too many priests and bishops have been holding their tongues...

First Prize For The Most Entertaining Quotes...

In my taxi home from seeing off the Papal Pilgrims to Cofton Park, my taxi driver said "I'm not religious, or anything... but this Pope's visit has been really great, hasn't it? All that stuff in the papers, well, it's..." I shall draw a discreet veil over what his thoughts were on that score, partly because I'm not entirely certain of the correct spelling...

In the London Media Centre after the Holy Father entered the Abbey: "I'm not religious, but wow, that has really moved me!"

But first prize has to go to the bus driver who wanted to know what was wrong with The Tablet, because he couldn't even give away the free copies he'd been asked to distribute...

Twitch of the mantilla to Kate.

Blackfen Pilgrims Waved Off To Cofton Park...

After the dinner at Chislehurst in honour of the Holy Father's visit, I popped over to Blackfen in order to wave off the pilgrims leaving for the Beatification Mass at Cofton Park. Why they had to leave at 12:30am is anyone's guess... I know pilgrims from Folkestone who had to leave at that time, so, given that it takes me about 2 hours to get to Folkestone...

Whatever.











I opened the doors to the hall, turned on the lights, and nipped into the loo. I came out to find pilgrims already congregating: they'd been warned by Leutgeb that the coach would leave on time whether they were on it or not, and so they jolly well made sure they were not going to miss the event of a lifetime!

Some of the younger ones had also been to Hyde Park, and were catching up on sleep... I think this one was carried onto the coach by his dad, still oblivious to the world...

Greg, the server who sports the Dangermouse socks which so enthralled Fr. Z, came back from Westminster Cathedral piazza and Hyde Park looking a little the worse for wear, but still having enough energy to show off his Papal Visit Youth Pass, as well as copies of the words to God bless our Pope! which they planned to sing at some point. I vaguely remember, as a student, having that sort of energy...

And then the coach arrived, and it was time to see everyone off... I'd made a bit of an effort for the dinner at Chislehurst - hair up, (low heeled) black court shoes, pearl earrings and matching choker, make-up - but I hadn't realised how unusual a sight it was until some of the young girls confessed to feeling under-dressed. "We didn't know we had to dress up!" they wailed, "...if only we'd known...!"

I did my best to reassure them that, given the conditions and the terrain, they were far more suitably attired. Still, it did make me wonder what sort of a spectacle I must present normally...

Papal Visit Dinner...

The parishioners at Chislehurst had the great idea of marking the Holy Father's visit to the UK with a black tie event at Chislehurst Golf Club. It was also considered to be a great opportunity to raise some funds for the parish church. I believe that the organisers did consider inviting the Holy Father himself, but apparently he was otherwise engaged...

The Golf Club is at Camden Place, once the residence of the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress Eugenie, and the Emperor was initially buried at the church of St. Mary's before being moved to Farnborough. The Parish Priest of Chislehurst is therefore always a member of the Golf Club... I've been privileged to be a guest at the Club for Sunday lunch on a few occasions, courtesy of Fr. Charles Briggs, and so I was determined to get a few photos of the event, which, I felt sure, would compliment the ambience of the interior...

I had the great good fortune to be sitting next to the very entertaining barrister Adrian Davies and his mother, Maria. I discovered, during our conversation on how wonderful our Holy Father is, that Adrian Davies' father was a great friend of the (then) Joseph Ratzinger, and how the family had received a card of condolence from him when Adrian's father died... and it suddenly dawned on me that his father was none other than Michael Davies, the man who had done so much to fight for the usus antiquior in this country... I promptly persuaded them to pose for a photo with Fr. Tim when he came over to chat and take photos of his own...

Fr. Tim Finigan, having been held up in Central London by the late running of the Holy Father's schedule, hadn't managed to change into his cassock and ferru...ferrai... furru... erm, that black cape thingy (ahhh, found it... ferraiuolo!)

Fr. Charles Briggs doesn't have a ferraiuolo, but he was suitably attired in his cassock, and consented to pose with the underdressed Fr. Finigan... fortunately, black clerical garb is pretty smart anyway! The photo came out slightly blurred. I think the room must have moved...

I can't quite understand how people can bear to have their photos taken... however (fortunately for me) most people seem quite happy to pose, especially when they've pushed the boat out a bit for an event like this. Andrew Bosi, who sings at both Blackfen and Chislehurst (when he's not at Maiden Lane), James Barton (MC and Sacristan at Chislehurst) and Jonathan Hague (MC at Blackfen) were in fine form, while behind them, an auction and a raffle were starting up...

James and Jonathan both consented to pose earlier in the evening as well, and I thought it rather amusing to see the post-62 and pre-62 rubrical preferences reflected in the drinks chosen...

At the end of the evening, Delia Gaze (who came along to the Lourdes pilgrimage this year) was press-ganged into posing with Fr. Charles, Fr. Tim (sporting his Papal Visit Press Pass and rucksack) and James. Delia gave a perfect lesson in how to make a simple scarf look stunningly elegant... something I never manage, no matter how hard I try. She later went off to Cofton Park to see the Holy Father beatify Cardinal Newman.

I managed to get this rather good photo early on of Councillor David Hurley, who was kind enough to relieve me of my coat, when I arrived, and carried my glass of champagne over to the table. Personally, I had been planning to grab a bottle, with the excuse that it was the only way I could carry a drink while on crutches, but the best-laid plans can be thwarted by the kindnesses of others... *sigh*

At the end of the evening, Fr. Tim showed off the Papal Flag before we returned to Blackfen to wave off the pilgrims to Cofton Park.

It was an absolutely brilliant evening, and I'd like to thank the organisers at Chislehurst for making it possible. I hope that there's another one quite soon...

It's All Over...

The Holy Father is back in Rome. I feel bereft...