In a week’s time, God willing, Pope Benedict XVI will be here among us, being only the second Pope ever to visit us, throughout our long history. 

Pope Benedict XVI 

Some, of course, will well remember the visit of Pope John Paul II in 1982, blessed as he was with a week of glorious sunshine, a relatively young man and full of energy. I remember, so well, the ‘buzz’ that his visit aroused, as I walked up from Putney to Wimbledon, and to the residence of the Papal Nuncio, where Pope John Paul was to stay and appear on the balcony, that night. And there was a real ‘buzz’!  Strangers were talking to each other – most unusual for our fellow countrymen and women – normally so reserved. I was in the ‘happy’ crowd that was with him as he spoke, briefly, and prayed that night.

Pope John Paul II 

The Pope is the one who succeeds Peter – his true successor; Peter was the centre of unity for the apostles, and his successor is the centre of unity for the Bishops and for us Catholics – a major responsibility given to him by Jesus. Peter, and therefore his successor, was given the ‘charge’ to care for and feed the flock. Jesus said to St. Peter:

"Simon you are a blessed man, for it is not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven. Now you are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church".  

For us Catholics, the Pope is our leader and spiritual father, providing a focal point for the stability of our faith; he is our hope; he is the focus of our love. These three, cardinal virtues, mark us as Christians, for without them we cannot be followers of Christ. That is why it is so wonderful that the Pope should be coming among us to confirm us in these virtues, and, for sure, we need this confirmation – given the times in which we live.  

In his unique position, the Pope is the ‘Father’ of a worldwide ‘family’, and, as such, during his visit to Britain, he will meet leaders of other Christian denominations, as well as leaders of other faith communities. Because his visit is a ‘State Visit’, he will meet with the Queen and political leaders of the various denominations, and in such meetings, he will be able to share world-wide views of the challenges facing societies today.  In this regard, and in all probability, he will be unlike any other ‘national’ leader. It is remarkable that the Pope, alone, has the stature to bring together peoples of all religions – and also peoples of none.  During the papacy of his predecessor, this happened for world religions at Assisi, on three occasions, when representatives of all the major Christian Denominations – and World Religions – came together and prayed, in 1986, 1993 and 2002.  

With all these ideas in mind, I feel it is an honour to be allowed to fly the Papal flag, even here in our small town of Leyland. Surely, it is something of which to be proud, knowing that we can also contribute to this world-wide mission of the Pope, something very much reflected in the official prayer, set out in preparation for his coming, with the words: "May Pope Benedict be a witness to the unity and hope which is your will for all people". 

John Henry Newman, in Earlier Life, and later as Cardinal

During his visit, the Pope will beatify Cardinal John Henry Newman 

Cardinal Newman: Quite apart from his many other talents, this great Englishman had a direct affect on the life history of my own family – the ‘Cotton’ family – under the leadership of Henry and Rosemary Cotton, our father and mother, because my mother, as a young girl in the 1930’s, read Cardinal Newman’s ‘Apologia Pro Vita Sua’, and was deeply influenced it. It was after reading the treatise that she entered into Full Communion with the Catholic Church, (circa. 1933); later, she was to tell me, that it was Newman who pushed her, finally, into the Catholic Church. Mother was no intellectual, but the crux of her argument was: "If it was good enough for Cardinal Newman, it is good enough for me". Her strong Catholic faith – together with her love of the Anglican Church – was something that influenced me, greatly, as a young man.  I remember, well, the days when we would listen to ‘Evensong’, then often broadcast late evening on Radio 3, (The Third Programme those many years ago), and my mother would always delight in listening – and joining in – with the psalm singing and the hymns she knew so well. 

Personally, I think there were other influences on my mother – influences complementing those from Cardinal Newman. Rosemary, who was baptised an ‘Anglican’ in line with the rest of her family, had been educated by the Catholic Sion Nuns, in London, during her teens; later she, and her twin sister Elaine, were sent by my maternal Grandparents, Laurie and Nyda Tremlett, to a finishing school – also run by Catholic nuns – on Lake Constance, South Germany. Grandfather Laurie said to both girls, as they left home to begin this experience: "For pity’s sake, do not be influenced by those Papist nuns – remember you are Anglicans". Later, Rosemary became a ‘nanny’ for a very good Catholic soldier, General Martin, and his wife – the general being the Military Attaché, in Poland, in the early 1930’s; from there she observed the Catholic Church, with its mark of ‘universality’, because she was to meet so many Catholics at Sunday Mass, in the many different Churches visited by the family.

Henry, Rosemary carrying her first born – my elder sister Joanna –

and Granny Gigia (Henry’s mother) 

However, there was to be one ‘last straw’, in my mother’s decision to enter the Catholic Church, and that was her meeting with my father at the house of General Martin, some time later at Chatham.  Both my father and the ‘Sapper’ General, were members of the St. Vincent de Paul Society, in the Catholic parish, in Chatham. She told me later that, at the first meeting, she was determined to ‘marry that man’; my Father, Henry, was a deeply religious Catholic, all his life, including those years encompassing his mid-twenties. I think the religious ‘streak’ possessed by my Father, attracted my mother to him, and, although she afterwards told me she did not become a Catholic because of him, I have no doubt this was an influence, well within my mother’s temperament, leading her to ‘act more from the heart than from the ‘head’.  

But, now I want to return to Cardinal Newman – and his importance – for me. This holy man took a long time to consider before ‘taking the plunge’ and becoming a Catholic – in all about 20 years. Firstly, in this regard, I believe it may have been far better not to have rushed into things, especially when considerations involved not just matters of doctrine, but also matters pertaining to the taking on of another culture. Secondly, the things he wrote about – all eminently sensible – reflect what actually happened. One of his books is called ‘The Development of Christian Doctrine’, the title, itself, giving such a positive feel to the dynamic nature of Christian life: although everything is revealed through Christ, yet our understanding develops, gradually, over time – in this case over centuries, and this happens in life as well. All of us know what it means to be human, even as a child, but our conception and understanding of this generic concept, as an adult, is very different to the child’s ‘immature’ outlook.  Another of his books is called ‘An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent’. In this, he deals with ideas such as ‘How can I believe what I do not understand?’, and "Can I believe what is not proved"?  I remember, personally, trying to understand, and, hopefully, trying to arrive at some possible answers to these questions: I have a suspicion that the answers may still be escaping me, but also that, perhaps, my mother’s philosophy was what helped me through: "If Cardinal Newman thought it, it must be all right." 

What impresses me most about Cardinal Newman, is that he was willing, and pleased, to be received into Full Communion, by Blessed Dominic Barberi, in October 1846 – not by a brilliant, Catholic, theologian, but by a holy Italian missionary, who could not even speak English, properly.  In August 1890, 20,000 people lined the streets of Birmingham, to see his coffin move along the streets of Birmingham to his grave, and this fact, alone, speaks volumes about his appeal, not only to the intellectuals, but also to the ordinary person in the street. It reminds me, in miniature, of the death of Pope John Paul II, when millions queued to be with him, as he was dying, in the year, 2005. 

It has been a very good and worthwhile exercise to dwell, for a time – to consider – to try to understand, some of the importance Cardinal Newman has had – on Catholic thinking – and on my own family’s fortunes, but it is also important to return to present society, and to Pope Benedict’s visit, 2010.  In truth, I think, here, the best thing to pray for as the Pope comes to visit to our shores is for good weather. It may be that not too many people fully realise the effect that our weather has on peoples’ disposition and good humour.  Certainly,  it will make a massive difference, should the days September 16 – 19, be bright and sunny, and that ought to be one of the prime things to pray for in these few days of preparation. On a more faith-based note, may he bless and encourage us, and confirm us in our faith, hope and love for the Glory of God, and the good of all.

In the psalms, last Tuesday morning, came the verse:

 But all the wicked shall perish

and all the enemies of the Lord.

They are like the beauty of the meadows,

They shall vanish, they shall vanish like smoke.

(Psalm 36, Grail Translation)

Dark Rider

These words put me in mind of various films, of a certain genre, I have seen, one of which was ‘Lord of the Rings’. In this ‘epic’, there were nine evil men – in league with those trying to destroy the ‘Hobbits’ – who had the ‘Ring’ with them. The ‘Nine’ rode fast and furiously on black horses, wearing black hoods that hid their faces. In one scene, the hoods opened up and their faces did not exist. Instead there was just ‘nothing’.  In the end, these ghastly evil presences simply disintegrated; much the same sort of thing happens in many horror movies. The ‘evil monster’, when challenged, will disappear – or disintegrate – in a puff of smoke. 

Many people, especially the very young, are frightened of the dark, of nothingness, of loneliness and of evil. I think that these fears have their roots, largely, in the awareness we have of our ‘impotence’ in the face of forces we do not understand, in our ‘inability’, often, to change things and to bring about their metamorphosis to things as we would like them – into things we are comfortable with; involved in these feelings, certainly, are those senses we can all experience, of being worthless, powerless – when faced with the unknown. Against all this, I am driven to reflect on the Divine Majesty of God, and that one day each of us, having ‘vanished, vanished like smoke, will find ourselves in His presence. There before God, He will not want us to be just an ‘empty shell’ – a ‘pale shadow’ of our real selves; He wishes us to have that ‘fullness of life’, that ‘magnificence of spirit’, for did not Jesus witness that: "I have come that they may have life, life to the full". Now, you may ask: "Is this a paradox with no solution?" I don’t think so, and in this regard, events, experience and help from important Christian teachings, can throw much light on the matter. 

This last week has been one of those times that have affected me deeply – no doubt because of the experiences it brought – and these have led to a certain chain of thought. A few days ago, I was privileged to be with a friend of mine, Malcolm, when he was dying, and although I had not been involved in the hard work – staying up all night with him – as he approached this serious moment of his life, it happened that this was the way ‘providence’ arranged things. (We Catholics pray the Hail Mary throughout our lives, asking Our Lady’s help: "…. pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death" – and often, I would wager, not fully realising the absolute importance of these two moments of our lives – especially the latter.  Whoever composed this prayer was a genius, someone, I suspect, very much filled with the Holy Spirit.)  But, to continue, with me were two other mutual friends, so I was not alone with Malcolm, as he departed this life.  

When one’s friend, just before he dies, opens his eyes and looks at those who are with him, there is a very real and moving finality about this; there is also another look, so it sometimes seems, at someone else behind – or beyond – those in immediate focus, then, gradually, his breathing stops, and one is there in that dramatic silence, an awesome moment as the life of a friend comes to an irrevocable end; this, to be sure, is something that, certainly, sends out its mark to those close by, and to those observers it can seem as if there is a departure into nothingness – into a complete and void emptiness – into a hole that is left behind. 

However, when you know a great deal about the loving goodness of your friend, and the efforts he has made to live as good a life as he could, within his own limitations and personality, you realise that the words Jesus spoke, in the Gospel, just before he died, ring very true for such a loved one: 

"After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, ‘Father the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do." John 17; 1-4 

Malcolm had finished the work given him by his Creator. This was to remain faithful to God, right to the very end, and on his journey of life, to have done all he could to follow the path God had marked out for him. I found myself, in his last moments of life, simply saying: "Thank You" to him, just for being himself. Looking back over our friendship, it wasn’t so much because of his abilities as a ‘wit’, as an interesting companion, as a loyal supporter of so many, but just his ‘being’ that had now ‘gone’. There is now a ‘hole’ in my life – and in the life of his friends – a ‘hole’ that he once filled. I look around and at a picture of my own ‘blood’ brother, Tim – brother and life-long friend – that reminds me so much of Malcolm, and have the same feeling – an emptiness in me, a ‘hole’ that is left because he is no longer here. 

However, in both these bereavements, I do not feel ‘lost’: rather there is a knowledge that the relationship remains, constant, unbending, unbroken, and I can continue to talk with them, in my mind and heart, in a way that is meaningful. It is not a complete ‘emptiness’, of ‘nothingness’, but somehow a ‘full’ emptiness that is taken up by the power and the presence of LOVE; LOVE that reflects their way of being, LOVE that reflects their way of loving, because the beauty I see in them is the development, in them, of gifts that were not theirs, but reflections in them of God’s LOVE. 

It is not easy, to put into explanatory words, the ‘realities’ I know to be true. Before sharing these with you, I must tell you that Malcolm, a Probation Officer working in Prisons, was also dedicated to God, and had decided to forgo the vocation of marriage – just like priests, monks and nuns. Two ‘illustrations’ will help to throw light on the matter. Both come from ‘holy’ women, the first of whom is Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who writes about ordained priests, but her statement applies to all who, out of love for God, and accepting his gift, live a celibate life:

Mother Teresa of Calcutta

"Dear collaborators with Christ, you have said "Yes" to Jesus and He has taken you at your word. The Word of God became in Jesus "poverty". Your priestly celibacy is the terrible emptiness that you experience. God is not able to satisfy whatever is full. He can only fill what is empty…Today He wants to live his complete submission to the Father in you; agree with him and let Him do it. It does not matter what you experience, but what He does in you……You and me should do everything to let Him live in us and through us, in this world. Be very close to Our Lady, because she, before she became full of grace, full of Jesus, had to enter this darkness. "How will that be possible?" she asked. Yet in the moment she spoke her "Yes", she felt the need to hurry away to take Jesus to John and his family." 

For me, it is through the loving acceptance of God, in the emptiness of my being, that I can find the way to let Him fill my life – and this in collaboration with others – who wish to do the same. He will then help me to take himself – who is LOVE – to others with whom I come in contact.  

The second lady is a parishioner, called Nora, who is very ill with cancer. She is, also, almost totally blind, bed-ridden, grieving the death of her husband only four and a half months ago, and yet she remains serene, and sure of God’s immense goodness and love for her. I found myself saying, in a short note, a ‘Thank You’ to her, also, for her response to God’s gift, knowing and saying – as  she continually does – how good God is; I told her that she reminded me of a soul with Our Lady living within her.  

To offer a little further explanation, the ‘emptiness’ that is filled by God’s presence is a beautiful ‘emptiness’, quite different from the ‘ugly emptiness’ of those who live  estranged from God. Everything will appear to disappear into ‘nothingness’ when we pass from this world to the next, as Malcolm did before my eyes. But, for the ‘just’ it will not be like the emptiness of the wicked who shall ‘vanish like smoke’. This ‘emptiness’ for the ‘just’ is a void that will be filled with the goodness of God – a fullness of God that is built on our own ‘YES’ to Him every day, and built on the nothingness of our human nature, filled with the power and wisdom and love of God. 

Malcolm Pyman (Died 30 August 2010) May he Rest in Peace

One final word about my friend, Malcolm; in the last days of his life, a friend asked him for a word of encouragement for all, and he simply said: "Keep moving onward". Malcolm, I think, is saying this in his picture.

During the last week, I met a lady who told me she had learned 45 different psalms, by heart. Her statement struck a chord with me, because I once learnt, by heart, Chapter 17 of John’s gospel. This, to me, was a really worthwhile exercise because, at times, walking along, alone and with time to myself, in thought – and whatever else – I used to repeat the chapter to myself, and the words were capable of assuming meanings, and facets of meanings, I never suspected they had.  I believe it will be the same for this good lady, and her psalms. In the psalms, there is much that touches a personal chord, especially for someone trying to live as a faithful follower of the Lord; He is the inspirer of the psalms; they are God’s prayers to himself for they were used by Jesus; moreover, they remain to be used by us who are still here on earth.

However, I could not leave things just like that.  The lady and her psalms had given me a ‘kick-start’ to then look again at John, Chapter 17, using a different translation – different from the one I had used before – and this gave a new slant on the meaning of the text:

"I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those you gave me, because they are yours".

Jesus seems to distinguish the world of God and the world in which we all live. On reflection, this is not so surprising, when we remember Jesus and his temptation by the devil … … 

‘Then Satan .. … in an instant showed him all the kingdoms of the world…’ and said to Jesus: "To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please" (Luke 4: 5-6).

In these quotations, we have two worlds, described by Jesus – this sense of a world that belongs to God, and all those that God has given to Jesus – and that other world that does not belong to God.

Abbot Cuthbert Madden of Ampleforth, August 2010

In the context of our monastic life and our August Chapter, it is good to think about the ideal that we are called to – that ideal which leads to a life in God, and not of the world. I remember, many years ago, talking to the father of monastic contemporary of mine, who came to visit and stay with us when we made our final profession, as monks. He then marvelled at the ‘beauty’ of our way of life, and said to me: "You are all like brothers, supporting, helping and loving each other as in a family".

Two Contented Older Monks

Our Monks at Work and in Relaxation

Benedictine Monks are called to follow God in the pattern laid down by St. Benedict. The life consists of brothers, or sisters, (as the case may be), living as a family, under an Abbot or Abbess – a life that entails giving up one’s own possessions, one’s own will, and living a celibate life, in community.  We do not take vows of poverty, chastity and obedience – although my novice master used to say that our vows amounted to the same thing. Our vows are actually named ‘Conversion of Life’, ‘Stability’ and ‘Obedience’.  And, as one would expect, the context of life, for a monk, is much focussed. We pray together the monastic office, and spend a ‘longish’ time, each day, in this prayer, or in praise to God. St. Benedict called this ‘The work of God’ or, in Latin, ‘Opus Dei’.  Nothing is more important for St. Benedict than this work of prayer.  However, this primary is complemented by private prayer, ‘Lectio Divina’ (prayerful reading) – studying and reading.

Quite apart from this life of prayer, the monks work to earn the money needed to live and survive, and so there is work to be done of the most varied kinds, according to each monastery. Our monastery has a wide range of working patterns – a range which includes teaching in the monastic school, Ampleforth College, the work of chaplains in the school, hospitality work with guests – including retreats, talks and conferences – then there is life, and work, on the parishes. Lastly, but by no means least, there is the manual work that needs to be done – work in the orchard, in the gardens and in the woods, belonging to the monastery.

I believe it to be an interesting fact, that the monastic life, whilst ‘not according to the norms of most peoples’ lives’, manifests, at the same time, a life of great contentment and joy – at its best. It is quite hard – difficult in words – to ‘pin down’ the ‘charism’ of monastic life; some refer to it as ‘Prayer and Work’, (in Latin, Ora et Labora), or ‘Peace among Thorns’, (in Latin, Pax inter Spinas).  What is certain, however, is that all of us within our monastery, know monks who have lived the Ampleforth monastic way of life for 60 years, and more – and are still full of love and joy – what a wonderful gift from God!  But, monastic life also points the way to something ‘special’ for all people. Those of us who are not called to be monks, nevertheless, are called, in our own way, ‘to be in the world’ – but not ‘of the world’, where we can, with God’s help, integrate ‘Prayer and Work’ into our lives, so that our lives also become ‘unified’. This is a Christian ‘calling’, common to all of us, and so each one of us needs to learn how to aspire to that calling, each in our own individual way. Certainly, we all need to find a place for prayer, and for work, these two important aspects of our lives in harmony with each other.

I look at the world in which we live, at life today in contemporary Britain, and at recent events from which one cannot escape, and all this makes me stop and think about the power of the world – that other world – the one that does not belong to God.  Many of the values that constantly bombard people – values inculcated – ingrained almost – within our culture, are, to put it mildly, rather godless. Recently, the extent of growth in addictions, for example, those to do with ‘sex, drugs, drink, alcohol and greed for more – money and possessions’ – has ‘homed in’ on me.   In this kind of world, everyone can recognise a Christian, because they live in a different way, a way that is free from any slavery to addiction, and, on an even more positive footing, putting God first, putting Sunday worship before other things, putting oneself out to worship God each week.  Take Sunday, and any town in England, including Leyland. You will see many cars at the shopping centres, outside the swimming pools, and loads of young people playing sport. Now, all these things are good, in themselves; people do need to shop, it is good to relax, it is good to support the young in sport.   But, where is God in all this?  Yes, of course, there are those who come to church to worship God, as well, people who are prepared to give that time to God rather than to the other ‘necessities’ or ‘luxuries’ of life, but these are only a very small minority.  It comes down to a matter of priority.  Unfortunately, for many in Britain, the priority is not worshipping God, together in the faith community, but in taking themselves off to that ‘other’ world.

Thank God, God’s world still exists and it is heartening to know that much praying goes on, each day, in peoples’ lives, within our Parish. A few have the time and energy to join us, here in the Parish Community, for the daily round of ‘Morning Prayer’ that usually begins 45 minutes before the morning Mass. In our Priory Community, we have Midday Prayer, each day, and, of course, Evening Prayer, as we monks wish, very much, to do our best to keep community prayer alive, each day.

Prayer can take many forms and family prayer together is a very good way to introduce, and maintain, a rhythm of prayer. Thus, some pray together at each meal, and others have family morning prayers at breakfast, to thank and praise God for the new day, and to ask God’s blessing on each day’s activities. Prayers, and the things of God, are so inter-linked. Preparing our children for first Holy Communion is another aspect of Christian Life and prayer, as it leads to our involvement in the most important prayer of all, the Mass. In this regard, Chandon Oakley recently made her preparations in Australia, and then came back to her Grand-parents’ Parish, here in Leyland, for her first Holy Communion, on the 15th August, this year.

(1)  Praying the Morning Office at Leyland (2) Chandon Oakley’s 1st Holy Communion, The Assumption, 2010

"I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world, but on behalf of those you gave me, because they are yours".

When Jesus asks God for something, it is Jesus who is praying.  He prays for us, continually, in heaven, and this, too, can give us another understanding of God’s immense love for us, and could lead to a desire, on our part, to respond to Him.  In this way, we can be sure we are among those that God has ‘given to Jesus’; in fact, all people are candidates for this great privilege – the privilege of belonging to Jesus. On this point, it is enough for us just to want to be with God, to decide to believe in Him, and act on our belief; if we do this, in all sincerity, God will help us to be united with Him, and to live his will throughout the circumstances of our lives. Then, in this confusing world of ours, things will acquire new meaning and new purpose; then, we will become people of peace and harmony, in ‘Prayer and in Work’.