Sunday, 21 July 2013

Happy Twentieth Anniversary to Father Kevin!

In a few days time it will be the twentieth anniversary of Fr Kevin’s ordination to the priesthood. To mark the occasion, we decided to present him with a card and gift at the end of the 9.30am mass today.  

However, when you have a very alert and observant parish priest, getting anything past him is very difficult. So, the congratulations card was kept in an envelope in a linen tote bag that was furtively passed around. Any signings in church had to be done stealthily, with lookouts posted. When Fr Kevin came into a room conversations suddenly stopped or veered onto unusual or banal topics. Once, he wondered aloud why so many people were congratulating him on his upcoming anniversary...Anna reminded him that the Parish Team had mentioned it in passing; maybe people were surprised he looked so young for having accumulated 20 years on the job? Such was our dilemma for the last two or three weeks.
Today, at the end of the 9.30 mass, Fr Kevin mentioned that a new fortnightly newsletter was available and asked the rhetorical question “Does anyone have any announcements?”

Cees van Berkel seized that moment to bound onto the altar from his customary place in the choir , declaiming “Yes, I do – I have an announcement!”. I’m sure Fr Kevin’s heart was racing but we had at least one doctor in the congregation, and were well prepared. Cees explained that Fr Kevin was shortly to celebrate the 20th anniversary of his ordination, and then spoke movingly of the impact he had made on the Sacred Heart Church, his spirituality, dedication, enthusiasm - and the affection that we all felt for him.

 
 Then young Clara processed up the aisle holding the congratulations card out in front of her. The congregation, initially stunned, then bemused by the interruption, broke into applause. Father Kevin clearly had a lump in his throat but, after expressing his thanks, recovered sufficiently to manage the final blessing and to introduce the closing hymn.


Shortly after, we assembled in the Parish Rooms for the customary cuppa following the 9.30am mass. There was a cake in the shape of the number ‘twenty’ for Fr Kevin to cut, and he opened his card and gift – a Thompsons Holidays Gift Card. We did remind him that the idea was to take a well-merited holiday but that, wherever he went, it was strictly to be a round (return) trip – we want him back. He was clearly delighted, we were clearly relieved – life can now return to normal in the Presbytery – and so ended another joyous moment in the history of the Sacred Heart in Hove.  

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Some Photos from the Royal International Air Tattoo

I didn't make it to the Air Tattoo today (still nursing a sore and swollen hand) but younger son was there and inserted below are a few of the photos he took. The Americans did not attend this year due to US budgetary restrictions, but there was still an impressive display of old and new machines (including the spectacular Vulcan).

Friday, 19 July 2013

The Grape of Wrath

Shopping in Tesco’s this morning, I did not see an almost-invisible squashed green grape on the floor in front of me. For a split second I thought ‘Interesting, I’m floating in air - look there are my shoes rising up level with my head - now going higher!’ Then there was a crash as I hit the floor, my left elbow and wrist cushioning the fall. Worried shoppers and staff crowded round and my embarrassment increased exponentially. I managed to lever myself to my feet and shuffled off with a sheepish grin to seek peace among the chill cabinets.

Now my left wrist is painful and swollen. For a millisecond, thoughts of claiming a king’s ransom in damages troubled me, but I managed to banish them. More worrying is the status of my plan to drive plane-mad younger son to the Royal International Air Tattoo tomorrow, a three hour journey. We’ll see.
Last night was the Sacred Heart Church catechists’ meeting; groups from FHC (First Holy Communion), Confirmation, RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) and Baptism (me, the missus and Fr K). Despite both doors to the Parish Room being open, the air inside was hot and still, and glances were furtively cast at the drinks and snacks on a side table. It wasn’t an official celebration, it was mostly a work session, but there was pride and pleasure in exchanging experiences.

For me, baptism is special; the last words of Our Lord before He ascended, as recorded by Saint Matthew (28:19-20) are ‘Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’  A catechists' charter.
We are privileged to participate in this Great Commission and it’s often humbling and moving to witness the faith of others. There’s hardly anything stronger in the world than a mother wanting the very best for her infant, surrendering the child in love to God’s protection and influence, trusting that baptism will open a doorway that will lead through him or her safely through this world and into the next.

In Sacred Heart, the varied national origins of the parents is also striking. I haven’t kept a record but in the last few months we’ve seen Poles, Albanians, Brazilians, Mexicans, French, Latvians and others, as well as locals. We’ve even said the Our Father in Polish and Albanian during the baptism service. This is a catholic and universal church with both a large and a small ‘c’- Deo Gratias!      

Sunday, 14 July 2013

I Confess...



 
Recently I spent the best part of a year studying, one evening a week, for the Catholic Certificate in Religious Studies (CCRS). It was taught in the university chaplaincy house in Falmer, Brighton, by a core team of Dr Kate Williamson, Adrian Richards and Fr Paul Wilkinson, assisted by Sister Antonia and the Catholic writer Fr Alexander Lucie-Smith, who is also a doctor of moral theology,
It was an immensely enjoyable, challenging and fruitful experience, the quality of the material exceeded only by the warmth and dedication of the teachers. If you have an evening to spare during the week check out CCRS in Brighton. You can attend the entire course or dip in and out of modules that interest you; these include Christology, The Church, Sacraments, Christian Morality, and Liturgy & Worship.

Anyway, plug over, back to the theme...
One of the areas that I researched when I attended the course was ‘Confession’ (aka the Sacrament of Reconciliation). In fact, I wrote an essay titled ‘Confession: Is It Still Relevant?’

The reason for the title was the enormous change in practise over the last 50 years or so. In the 1960s and earlier, many – if not most – Catholics attended weekly confession. However, the situation has now changed dramatically. A 2008 survey of 1,500 British Catholics found that 47% strongly agreed or just agreed that “I can be a good Catholic without the Sacrament of Confession.” Another 2008 survey of 1,007 self-identified American Catholics reported that 45% never went to confession and another 30% confessed less than once a year. 
For me – relativism and secularism aside – choosing which doctrines or community practises one follows, rather like choosing from a dinner menu, doesn’t work when it comes to religion. To pursue the analogy, confession is a vital part of a healthy diet, as is a sense of sin, belief in divine mercy – and also an understanding of divine justice. However, there are some legitimate choices we make while participating in the sacrament of reconciliation, for example...

How often should we confess? The answer is ‘as often as we need to’ and at least annually. We should confess whenever we commit a ‘mortal’ sin. Committing murder or serious assault definitely qualifies as a mortal sin, but what about spreading false gossip about a colleague, or even passing on unpalatable truths about someone for no good reason? Often our (informed) conscience acts as a watchdog, and the principle ‘if in doubt, confess’ is a good one. We are even recommended to confess venial (less serious) faults frequently as part of our journey in the path of Spirit.
The saints confessed frequently and many Popes often went to confession, even weekly (Pope John Paul II) or daily (Pope Pius XII). Myself, it varies anywhere between two weeks and two months (or – whisper it – more), but if I run past four weeks my conscience starts flashing like the warning light on a car dashboard.

More frequent reconciliation is recommended for various reasons. Leave it too long and we forget our sins. Regular confession encourages humility and self-correction, it sharpens the exercise of conscience, strengthens the will, gives us time with God and restores a fractured relationship.
What do we confess? This is down to our examination of conscience prior to confession. Daily examination is recommended but I suspect that only the saints and the Popes do a good job on that one. There are several ways to go about it but they seem to fall into two main categories. The first is an exhaustive list of possible sins based on the framework of the Ten Commandments or the Beatitudes; there are plenty of examples of these lists on the internet.

The other category is based on open-ended probes into how we fail to love God or our fellow human beings. For example, I’m currently looking at a small booklet, ‘Making a Better Confession’ by Con O’Connell O.F.M. This asks a number of questions sorted into different categories including My Relations With ...God; Those Nearest To Me; Everyone; God’s Other Creatures, and Myself.  The questions are simple but direct and thought-provoking.
 
Then there is the free and highly-rated iTunes app called ‘Mea Culpa.’ I’m not familiar with it - but it sounds like a great idea!

For anyone who feels their confession is becoming routine or stale, or anyone just starting, these resources can provide a boost. Just as in praying the rosary meditation, a variety of inputs provides stimulus and a wealth of ideas. 
Where do we confess?  I’ve never felt comfortable with open confessionals, they seem too informal, like a chat with a friend. Fortunately, we can go to confession anywhere. Maybe, like me, you prefer an old-fashioned one, a wooden box with a comfortable kneeler, a fretwork divider and the bowed head of an elderly Irish Jesuit...We can also choose to go to particular confessors, ones whose insight and advice we value, who encourage us on our path to holiness. Even if the occasional confessor is awkward or abrasive, it doesn’t matter, the grace of absolution is unaffected.

Confession is necessary, easy, invaluable – and recommended in messages from places as diverse as Rwanda, Medjugorje, Akita and Fatima.   

Monday, 8 July 2013

A Golden Wedding and a baptism

Last Saturday, two of our parishioners, Michael and Susan Dring, celebrated their Golden Wedding anniversary with Mass in the Sacred Heart, Hove. And, if that wasn’t special enough, the celebrant was their son Kevin, Parish Priest of the Sacred Heart, and concelebrating were two of their oldest priest friends, Fr Ian Byrnes and Fr David Rea.

The front pews were packed with family and friends and Georges Joucerand served the mass with the dignity and reverence that are his hallmarks. The church looked especially beautiful with fresh flowers in the vases and bright sunlight streaming in from the high leaded windows, painting the altar with colour.
Fr. Kevin’s tender tribute to his parents, their love, constancy and example, would not have been a surprise to them. However, what followed next was. From the back of the alter Fr. Kevin produced a large package wrapped in brown paper and, unwrapping it, proudly presented them with an Apostolic Blessing from His Holiness Pope Francis, a special and significant moment in an unforgettable day.


After Mass, the 40 or so guests departed for lunch, with lots to talk about.

The next day, after the Sunday morning masses, Fr Kevin performed baptisms of three infants belonging to two families. The first couple were a young local couple with their beautiful baby Samantha, the other couple originated from Albania and had two lively infants. In his homily Fr. Kevin stressed that baptism is not an end in itself but the start of a journey in which the parents, godparents, family and friends are called on, through example and encouragement, to support the newly baptised in living a life of holiness.  It struck me that the previous day’s celebration was a very practical example of what he meant...

Sunday, 7 July 2013

The Search for the Perfect Camera

The addiction – for addiction it has surely become – began in the early 1980s when I was travelling extensively for my job, mostly in Europe but also sometimes to the US.

Olympus launched their OM series of film cameras in the 1970s and in 1979 the OM10, an entry-level aperture-priority automatic exposure SLR (single-lens reflex) camera, a thing of rare beauty, was created. It was infatuation from the word go. The camera was light, comfortable to hold, easy to use and produced perfectly exposed pictures. It accompanied me to much of Europe, Africa, the Middle East, the US and a tour to Japan and Hong Kong in 1983.
Camera technology leaped ahead and in the late 1980s Canon brought out their EOS system whose electro-focus lens were a huge novelty; the mechanical links and levers between the camera body and the lens was replaced by electronic magic dust – focusing became fast, accurate and virtually silent. All the other camera companies copied Canon, which became the market leader for the next 20 years, introducing 40 different models in that period and innovations such as eye-controlled focus. Suddenly, good photography was both much easier and quite a bit cheaper. Since I lived in Hong Kong for three years from 1987-1990, you can imagine that the local camera dealers saw a lot of me!

Digital cameras technology arrived in the mid-1990s and Canon collaborated with Kodak to introduce its first digital camera, the EOS DCS 3 with its 1.3 Megapixel CCD sensor and a price tag of 12,000 euro.
Like many, it was a step too far for me and I found it hard to believe that much-loved film stock like Velvia would yield to electronic wizardry. Kicking and screaming, I was dragged into the digital age (although in a brief show of rebellion I bought a medium format Pantax 645 – however, it proved too unwieldy and I sold it on for rather less than it cost me, a situation that was to become distressingly familiar as the years went by).

In one of my drawers at home there is a motley collection of early digital camera s acquired in the last 20 years. Their small sensor size reveals their age, many are in single digits – the dinosaurs of modern photography.
And a few years ago I left Canon and took up with the other Japanese giant, Nikon, whose products were flashier but often better, producing more appealing image quality. Today, I’m mostly using two Nikon SLR bodies, the trusty D7000 and the new D7100 with its 24 megapixel sensor, plus a bunch of Nikon and Sigma lenses.

Of course the SLR is only one type of camera. There are also compacts, bridge cameras, rangefinders, full frame cameras – and we haven’t even mentioned mobile phone cameras or video capture. It’s all too easy to accumulate a variety of camera tools since there isn’t such a thing as the perfect all-purpose camera. But the search for the mythical perfect camera is truly addictive and full of the joys of discovery on the way. What about the tiny Canon S110, the perfect sneaky camera to take to dinner with its low-light capability, or the Canon SX50HS with its huge fixed zoom that can make a bird fifty feet away fill the screen?
I have not counted but I would imagine that I have owned (and mostly traded in) well upwards of 40 cameras in the last 30 years, many not particularly expensive but embodying an idea or a feature that was important or attractive at the time. They have all left marvellous memories.

And the future? Well, digital full frame cameras, with sensors as large as those in the old film cameras, have recently become much cheaper. The image quality, if only because of the larger sensor, is rather better than that of the APS-C sized sensors employed by most current SLRs. Now, if only good quality full frame lenses also start to fall in price...ah, dream on!         

Monday, 1 July 2013

Remembering Lourdes Before the Floods

In about three weeks’ time, we leave on pilgrimage to Lourdes. Just ten days ago flash floods - the worst for a century - devastated much of Lourdes, leaving the national Shrine under several feet of mud and debris, and many hotels and businesses severely damaged. The mayor of Lourdes said the damage ran into “tens of millions of Euros” and the clean-up operation could take months. (Lourdes is the second-biggest hotel site in France with six million visitors a year).

            I will report on the situation when we get there but, in the meantime, I thought you might enjoy this report from last year’s pilgrimage to Lourdes.

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            My wife and I made our first pilgrimage to Lourdes this year, joining the more than 700 travellers from Arundel & Brighton Diocese. We decided to travel as able pilgrims, not sure if we were fit enough to act as helpers. Apart from a weekend pilgrimage to Paris earlier this year in the company of some wonderfully caring and spiritual sisters from the Vincentians in Partnership spirituality group, our prior pilgrimage experience was virtually zero.
            We flew to Toulouse in the company of seven friends from Brighton. Three of our group used wheelchairs and it was good to see how practiced and helpful the Easyjet staff were. 

 


 
             Despite thirty years of intensive international travel, I had never before seen a hotel’s owners and waiting staff greet travellers with laughter, hugs and squeals of joy. But L’Europe is no ordinary hotel. It is one of ten hotels (out of the 270 or so in Lourdes) used by A&B Diocese to house its pilgrims. It has a well-earned reputation for friendliness and spirituality. Our bedroom had two religious pictures and a crucifix on the wall, and outside in the second-floor corridor were displayed dozens of holy prints and paintings – plus a complete set of Stations of the Cross - while statues of saints lined the staircase to the ground floor.  
     
            On arriving we received the Lourdes Pilgrim’s Handbook, which was an indispensible guide to the week’s activities, scheduling daily masses, rosaries, Ways of the Cross, reconciliation and healing services, processions, visits to the Baths, a presentation by the Redshirts - and even hotel parties! Thankfully, the events were optional and we were counselled not to do more than we were capable of; wise advice, as, one afternoon, exhausted, we stumbled into bed and only staggered out three hours later determined not to miss the four-course dinner with its wonderful French sauces.


            Arriving about ten in the evening on the first night, we hastily unpacked and made our way through the crowded streets towards the Domain, the area surrounding the Grotto, just a 15 minute walk from our hotel. There were dozens of small shops lining the way, every one still open, and almost every one selling religious objects, from small plastic water bottles in the shape of the Blessed Virgin to huge candles for several hundred Euros. Hundreds of pilgrims were milling about, shopping and processing, there were quite a few wheelchairs and many helpers wore old-style nurse’s uniforms. However, shop staff complained that it was much quieter than usual; they said numbers of pilgrims were significantly down - especially the Italians, allegedly the best spenders - due to the Euro crisis.

            Entering the Domain, we immediately left the profane and noisy world for sacred ground. The sound levels fell dramatically, the clamour of commerce vanished and all that could be heard was the shuffle of feet, the rubber whoosh of wheelchairs, muted talk in a dozen languages, and the hum of prayers. To our left was the spectacular floodlit Basilica of the Rosary with its soaring spires. We passed two pilgrims carrying a huge candle on their shoulders, reminding me of the assistants who carry the caber to the next competitor at Scottish Highland Games....On we went, past the Lourdes Water taps, booths for the sale of candles and souvenir medallions, joining streams of pilgrims all headed in the same direction.          
 
       
            All paths lead to the Grotto, the heart of the Domain, the reason for its existence. At eleven o’clock at night there were still about one hundred pilgrims in silent prayer and adoration, many kneeling. The Grotto, a hollow in the rock face worn smooth in part by the caresses of pilgrims, was lit by the soft glow of dozens of candles, and dwarfed by the massive Basilica of the Immaculate Conception above. In a niche in the rock above our heads was a life-size statue of the Blessed Virgin, placed in the very spot in which she had appeared to Saint Bernadette 154 years before. We stood where more than 200 million people have stood since 1860 and, for just a moment, time seemed to stop. Prayer was as natural as breathing in this place of stillness and presence.    

            Beyond the Grotto we passed a small forest of burning candles in metal stands before we came to the Baths where pilgrims bathe in the miraculous waters that sprang from the Grotto. In the distance, in the darkness on the other side of the river Gave, were various places of interest including chapels, a Way of the Cross, the new Water Walk, and the Accueil hospital for sick pilgrims.
 

            The next day the main group of pilgrims arrived and we joined the week of activities that comprised the official A&B Diocesan Pilgrimage. Every morning we processed to the diocesan mass, streaming from our separate hotels, led by a vanguard of wheelchairs, reversing direction after mass to hurry back for midday lunch. After lunch we sallied forth to various activities and then, noticeably slower, returned for dinner at seven. Afterwards, some pilgrims unwound in the hotel bar, others explored the town, a few ventured back to the Domain to pray – and I suspect as many hurried to the Little Flower, a cafe bar where good company, song and drinks attract many from A&B.
            The week passed all too swiftly, time seemed to accelerate at the end, and all too soon Paul and Mary, our very capable hotel leaders, were marshalling us onto the coach for Toulouse airport. It is impossible to recall every detail of that memorable week, but here are a few observations.

            The Domain - or Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes, to give it its proper title - is visually spectacular with large open spaces overseen by the soaring spires of the Upper Basilica and the dramatic Byzantine style of the Rosary Basilica with its dome surmounted by a huge gilded crown and cross. But, unfortunately perhaps, to modern visitors the spires also bear a disquieting resemblance to the centrepiece of Mr Disney’s parks, and the grand open space where thousands gather also echoes the great public squares of capital cities.
 

            What is different – what blew my socks off - was the Basilica of Pius X, the largest church in the Domain, holding 25,000 worshippers. Built mostly underground in 1958 of grey pre-stressed concrete pillars and beams that cross the low ceiling, it has been described as an underground car park or an upturned boat. This bare concrete cavern has little natural light, is cold and draughty and has poor acoustics. But, to me, this austere place is also beautiful and full of meaning, a reminder that God is everywhere. It may be cold but as you walk around you see dozens of glowing stained glass panels that depict the mysteries of faith, above them are almost 40 large tapestry images of saints and martyrs, lessons in holiness, and, moving on, the eye is drawn to an appropriately simple but very striking modern crucifix over the high altar. Opposite the choir stall is the entrance to an almost-hidden side chapel. Slip inside and there is an altar with a ‘fragment of the soutane worn by Pope John Paul on the 13th May 1981 and marked with his blood’. Pause in prayer for a moment and wonder why you ever thought this was like a car park - and the next time you park in a multi story, remember that God is with you!
            The anointing of the sick took place on the fifth day, also in the Pius X Basilica. We had been warned by the priests staying with our hotel group to take tissues, a wise precaution. Emotionally charged? Certainly. My eyes were dry but there was a lump in my throat. Our hotel group stood in a circle behind the wheelchairs, our hands on the sick pilgrims, willing God’s love and mercy through the intervention of the Blessed Virgin of Lourdes as Fr. Laurence, accompanied by Fr. Terry and Deacon Ian, blessed each sick pilgrim. In the deep silence that followed, tears flowed, people reached out and touched, held each other. We were reminded that we are all sick and need healing.

            I was a reluctant candidate for the Baths and went along, more in the spirit of ‘try anything once’ rather than undertaking a religious experience. Yes, you disrobe completely and, clad only in a cold, wet robe the size of a bath towel, you descend up to your chest in chilly water to say your prayers.  No, there is no towel to dry yourself with afterwards, you put on your own clothes and walk out. Yes, you are completely dry twenty seconds after putting your clothes on. No, I can’t explain it either but, God-willing, I plan to go back to the Baths next year and maybe I can work it out then. If not, I’m not going to worry - I’ve found a new way to worship.    

            The sick are at the heart of Lourdes. The sight of dozens of wheelchairs and wheeled beds leading the Marian Torchlight Procession or the Blessed Sacrament Procession testifies to their special and honoured place. However, I was puzzled why Lourdes continues to attract the sick in such numbers when fewer than 70 miraculous cures have been validated by the Church. Even the reported 2,000 to 5,000 documented cures is a small number when set against the 200 million visitors to date. To put it another way, with a reported six million visitors a year, if we assume 10% are sick and if only 1% of these were healed, that would still be 6,000 sudden healings each year....there is a temptation to apply the logic and the maths of the Lotto and Premium Bonds to the miraculous!
          

            But there is an alternative perspective. Lourdes points to the next world, not to this one - even Saint Bernadette would suffer for the rest of her short life. The Blessed Virgin did not promise anything, certainly not an end to pain or to malignant neoplasm. She did ask for penance and prayer for the conversion of sinners. Every pilgrim to Lourdes is sick through sin and healing occurs on many levels, in the waters, in front of the Blessed Sacrament, in the sacrament of reconciliation, at Lourdes, and after returning home. There are undoubtedly miraculous physical healings, but perhaps the real miracle is the change that Lourdes induces in the pilgrim: feelings and displays of love, caring and service; of humility; of self-awareness and introspection; of humbled recognition of our failure to love, and spontaneous gratitude for the Blessed Mother’s unceasing intercession. If that is the case, then the statistics should reflect a 100% effect, for no-one is untouched by Lourdes. 
 
            There is obviously much more to recall, such as the good humour and selfless inspiration of the helpers; the chance friendships made and the joy of both helping and being helped; the cheerful greetings of the Redshirts every day – regardless of the weather; praying the rosary with our hotel group, opposite the Grotto, as twilight fell; Bishop Kieran’s uncanny ability to teleport from one place to another with friendly greetings; the gruelling High Stations; the Moon girls’ hilarious delivery of ‘Plastic Jesus on my Dashboard’ at the hotel party; the streaming river of light that is the torchlight procession, and so on. But, better than a second-hand description, watch out for the announcement of the 2013 A& B Diocese Lourdes Pilgrimage and book your place. Your Mother is waiting!