Gregorian ChantIn 1903, the first of his pontificate, Pope Pius X wrote an encyclical on sacred music. The text is notable not least in what it says about Gregorian chant. The pope wrote that Gregorian Chant ‘is sweet, soft, easy to Read More
Bourne – AgainI’m in cordial agreement with A.E. Stallings’s review of Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey. Without going into tedious detail, he addresses much-propounded criticisms of Nolan’s plot developments, especially at the end, by citing venerable ancient variants, remarking: ‘Liberties and departures are nothing new.’ Read More
St Bernard‘Bernard was a nobleman through and through, naturally proud. But we must not forget the sheer drudgery of Bernard’s life as he laboured under constant overwork and the world’s messianic expectations, which can easily be dashed and turn sour. Bernard Read More
Dark Gospel‘True poetry, which is rare, says something new. There is newness here, and beauty. Christine Perrin offers us poems that, if attended to, teach us how to live aware; she offers them, one by one, as if they were ripe Read More
Gregorian ChantIn 1903, the first of his pontificate, Pope Pius X wrote an encyclical on sacred music. The text is notable not least in what it says about Gregorian chant. The pope wrote that Gregorian Chant ‘is sweet, soft, easy to learn and of a beauty so fresh and full of surprises that wherever it has been introduced it has never failed to excite real enthusiasm in youthful singers.’ That statement corresponds to my experience. I remember how thrilled I was when I first consciously heard it sung, aged seventeen or so. I’d never heard such simply soul-piercing music! The pope remarked: ‘Now, when delight enters into the fulfilment of duty, everything is done with greater alacrity and with more lasting fruit’, envisaging a bright future for the study of Gregorian chant. It is, he noted, as the Fathers of Vatican II would do as well (SC, 116), ‘the Chant proper to the Roman Church, the only chant she has inherited from the ancient fathers, jealously guarded for centuries in her liturgical codices, which she proposes to the faithful as her own, which she prescribes exclusively for some parts of the liturgy, and which the most recent studies have so happily restored to their integrity and purity.’ ‘Composers of sacred music’, the Holy Father noted this week, are called to know and preserve the musical heritage of the Church.’ How blessed we are in it.
Bourne – AgainI’m in cordial agreement with A.E. Stallings’s review of Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey. Without going into tedious detail, he addresses much-propounded criticisms of Nolan’s plot developments, especially at the end, by citing venerable ancient variants, remarking: ‘Liberties and departures are nothing new.’ The impact the film is having as catalyst of a Homer revival is estimable. At the annual summer party in the block of flats where I live, I overheard several neighbours saying they are (re-)reading The Odyssey. They weren’t reading Greek epics last August. Nolan, writes Stallings, ‘gives us an imaginary world with an internal consistency, a verisimilitude of realism’. He really does. Thereby he shows why the story matters. One thing intrigues me: I don’t think I’ve seen a single review remark on the parallel between one of the film’s key elements – Odysseus’s gradually recovering memory and thereby, for better or worse, a sense of his own legacy – and the drama of the Bourne films in which a younger Matt Damon revealed his mettle as a subtle actor. There’s a touch of Bourne to Nolan’s Odysseus. A couple of scenes looked to me like quotations. I thought that clever.
St Bernard‘Bernard was a nobleman through and through, naturally proud. But we must not forget the sheer drudgery of Bernard’s life as he laboured under constant overwork and the world’s messianic expectations, which can easily be dashed and turn sour. Bernard had his share of detractors. His high profile was also a school of humiliation. Humiliation is, to a monastic mindset, potentially a way to charity in truth if we welcome it without murmuring, using confrontations with our own limitations and the world’s, run-ins with the real, to cry out to God and establish ourselves afresh within his help, which may not be where we think it is. Bernard taught this process. He also lived through it inwardly. The outward events of his life are spectacular; in the chronicle of history they matter. For those of us who wish to know the man, however, they are the least important part of his biography. More momentous was the maturing that went on in the depth of his soul.’ From Alight with Hidden Glory, reviewed here.
Dark Gospel‘True poetry, which is rare, says something new. There is newness here, and beauty. Christine Perrin offers us poems that, if attended to, teach us how to live aware; she offers them, one by one, as if they were ripe black raspberries picked from different bushes. Her bold claim holds: ‘Each bush has a singular taste’. Sober inebriation results. Even in the face of harsh realities, ever honestly named, the poet enables, somehow, joy. What gratitude I’ve felt on reading this collection!’ These were the best words I could find with which to introduce a wonderful collection of poetry that has accompanied me these past months. When the author first presented the manuscript to me she said it was a book ‘about the challenge, wonder, terror of founding a child‘. I have learnt much from it, been challenged and inspired. If you get yourself one new volume of poems this year, let it be this one. https://coramfratribus.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/Christine-Perrin-Before-Surgery.mp3
20 Sunday AThis homily was given at the High Mass in Neviges. You can find an English translation by scrolling down a bit. Jes 56.1–7: Mein Haus — ein Haus des Gebetes für alle Völker. Röm 11.13–32: Gerade als Apostel der Heiden preise ich meinen Dienst. Mt 15.21–28: Ich bin nur zu den verlorenen Schafen des Hauses Israel gesandt. Was macht eine Nation aus? Was heißt es, Mitglied eines Volkes zu sein? Diese Fragen sind jetzt von unmittelbarer, manchmal peinlicher Relevanz in vielen Ländern Europas. Fast überall sehen wir Sproße eines sogenannten Populismus, der unangenehm an frühere Zeiten dieses Kontinents erinnern mag, mindesten für wen geneigt ist, an die Vergangenheit überhaupt zu denken. Die Suche nach der Identität und besonderer Aufgabe eines Volkes ist an sich natürlich nicht schlecht. Biblisch gesehen, ist die Berufung zum Volkswerden ein struktureller Teil der Heilsgeschichte. Nach der Sintflut gingen die Söhne Noachs in die ganze Welt als Gründer von Nationen, ‘nach ihren Sippenverbänden’ (Gn 10.31). Als Abram später aus Haran nach Kanaan berufen wurde, begann das größte aller Nationsprojekte. Die Geburt Israels war ein Prozess durch welchen Einzelmenschen einverleibt wurden in den verpflichtenden Zusammenhang des Volkes mittels eines Bundes. ‘Es ist nicht gut’, sagte der Herr am sechsten Tag der Schöpfung, ‘dass der Mensch allein bleibt’ (Gn 2.18). Meistens beziehen wir dieses Gotteswort auf die Ordnung der Ehe, und zwar zurecht; es gilt aber auch als Grundlage für die Nation. Gott beschäftigt sich nicht vor allem mit dem Heil und der Heiligung von Individuen: diese biblische Tatsache ist ein Skandalon für unsere Zeit, in der wir alle gern die schmeichelhafte Vorstellung hegen, ich selber sei eigentlich der einzig bedeutende Subjekt der Menschheit. Die Bibel spricht von der Berufung von Nationen. Israel spielt die Hauptrolle; Nebenrollen werden doch vorausgesetzt. Zu verschiedenen Zeiten werden Midian, Ägypten, Persien, Rom (und einem Haufen kleinerer Nationen) von der Vorsehung mobilisiert. Israel muss immer wieder lernen, dem eigenen nationalen Ruf treu zu bleiben und, zur selben Zeit, ihn zu relativieren. Hierum geht es in der heutigen Lesung aus Jesaja. Der Text kommt vom Schlussteil dieses gewaltigen Buches, in dem das Gottesgeheimnis offenbart wird. Jesaja lädt die Israeliten ein zur Gewissenserforschung. Wieso ist Israel den Geboten Gottes nicht treu geblieben? ‘Weh’, sagt der Prophet im ersten Kapitel, ‘Weh der Brut von Verbrechern! Der ganze Kopf ist wund, das ganze Herz ist krank’. Weitere Weherufe werden geäußert gegen Nachbarvölker, die Israel verführen und bekämpfen. Doch am Ende wird unterstrichen, Israels Berufung besteht nicht nur um des eigenen Volkes willen. ‘Die Fremden’ sollen nach Jerusalem kommen um Teilnehmer des Bundes zu werden. Gottes Haus, der Tempel, wird dann zu einem ‘Haus des Gebetes für alle Völker’ werden. Jedes nationale Projekt muss, in einer Glaubensperspektive, ein feines Gespür behalten für die Universalität. Denn Gott will ‘dass alle Menschen gerettet werden und zur Erkenntnis der Wahrheit gelangen’ (1 Tim 2.4). Wir dürfen uns nicht auf lange Sicht hinter Wallgraben verschanzen; alles Einzelne muss der Ganzheit dienen. Diese Einsicht, die hindurch das Alte Testament immer deutlicher wird, findet im Neuen klaren Ausdruck. Darum musste gerungen werden. Christus war Sohn seines Volkes. Auf menschlicher Ebene schien ihm Israels Priorität einleuchtend: ‘Ich bin nur zu den verlorenen Schafen des Hauses Israel gesandt.’ Die Sturheit der Kanaanäerin erweiterte das Blickfeld. Das Evangelium zeigt wie der Messias selbst sich helfen ließ, die Gegenwart im Licht der Ewigkeit zu sehen, das Vorhandene im Licht einer universellen Gnade. Als Katholiken leben wir mit dieser Spannung. Sie kostet manchmal Mühe, ist aber segensreich. Ein katholischer Christ ist jemand, der sich ganz in der lokalen Gemeinde investiert und dort wurzelt um Frucht zu tragen. Zur selben Zeit weiß er sich Teil einer grenzenlosen Gemeinschaft: das ist ja, was das Wort ‘katholisch’ heißt. Die Kirche, erklärten die Väter des zweiten Vatikanums, ist ‘für das ganze Menschengeschlecht die unzerstörbare Keimzelle der Einheit, der Hoffnung und des Heils’ (LG 9). Das Gedeihen und Heil aller muss stets unsere Zielsetzung sein, nicht nur das momentane Interesse unseres Dorfes oder unserer Sippschaft. Weil Katholiken gewohnt sind, in diesem Spannungsfeld zu leben, können sie wesentlich beitragen zum kulturellen und politischen Diskurs. Im Moment besteht meist überall die Gefahr, dass eine zynisch rhetorische, Ängste ausnützende Selbstsucht den nationalen Horizont verengt. Nehmen wir die lokalen Aufgabe ernst; setzen wir uns großherzig für ihn ein, unsere Land und die eigene Gesellschaft liebend. Vergessen wir aber nicht, dass Gott uns die Sorge für die ganze Welt anvertraut, damit sein Heil sie erfülle, damit zu ihrem Ende ‘Recht und Gerechtigkeit‘ wirken. Sollten wir manchmal einem engstirnigen Chauvinismus ausgesetzt sein, wollen wir uns den Mut und die Ausdauer der Kanaanäerin aneignen. In die Begrenztheit die gastfreundliche Weitsicht bringen, in den geschlossenen Kreis die allumfassende Liebe: Das ist der katholische Auftrag. *** What makes a nation? What does it mean to be the member of a people? These questions are of immediate, sometimes embarrassing relevance in many countries in Europe right now. Almost everywhere we see the rise of a ‘populism’ that may be uncomfortably reminiscent of previous periods in our continent’s history, at least for those inclined to bother to reflect on the past now and again. A people’s search for its identity and particular task is obviously not bad in itself. Biblically speaking, the call to constitute a people is structural to salvation history. After the flood, the sons of Noah went out into the whole world as founders of nations, ‘according to their families’ (Gen 10.31). When, later, Abram left Haran for Canaan, the greatest of all nation-building enterprises began. The coming-into-being of Israel was a process whereby individuals were incorporated into a committed community by means of a covenant. ‘It is not good’, said the Lord on the sixth day of creation, ‘for man to be alone’ (Gen 2.18). We usually apply this verse to the order of marriage, and are right so to do; but it applies no less to the founding of nations. God is not primarily concerned with the salvation and sanctification of individuals. This Biblical fact is a scandal for our times, in which we all happily nurture the flattering notion of being, really, the only significant subject in creation. The Bible, meanwhile, speaks of the call and saving of nations. Israel plays the principal role; but supporting actors are taken for granted. At various times Midian, Egypt, Persia, and Rome (as well as a host of smaller nations) are mobilised by Providence. Israel must constantly learn afresh to be radically faithful to its national call while, at the same time, relativising it. That is what is at stake in today’s reading from Isaiah. The text is taken from the final part of this grandiose book, which reveals the mystery of God. Isaiah summons Israel to an examination of conscience. Why has the nation not been true to the Lord’s commandments? ‘Ah’, says the prophet, ‘offspring of evildoers! The whole head is sick, the whole heart faint’ (Isa 1.4-5). Further woes are uttered against neighbouring peoples who tempt or undermine Israel. At the end, though, the point is made that Israel’s call is not just in view of the people’s own thriving. ‘Foreigners’ will come to Jerusalem in order to be grafted into the covenant. The house of God, Jerusalem’s temple, will become ‘a house of prayer for all peoples’. Every national project must, in a perspective of faith, maintain a keen sense of universality. God’s purpose, after all, is for ‘all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth’ (1 Tim 2.4). We can’t at length shut ourselves up behind high walls and wide moats; all particulars must be considered in light of the whole. This insight becomes ever clearer throughout the Old Testament. In the New it is made explicit — though it did not come about automatically. Christ was a son of his people. In a human way of thinking, the priority of Israel seemed to him self-evident: ‘I have only been sent to the lost sheep of Israel’. The Canaanite woman’s bloody-minded perseverance exploded this outlook. The Gospel shows us Christ letting himself be prevailed upon to see present restriction in the light of eternity, to see what is at hand in the light of universal grace. As Catholics we live within this tension. It can be exhausting sometimes, but it is blessed. A Catholic is someone who is wholly given to a local community, who strikes roots there in order to bear fruit. At the same time he or she is conscious of belonging to a boundless communion: that is the significance of the word ‘catholic’. The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council taught that the Church is ‘a lasting and sure seed of unity, hope and salvation for the whole human race’ (LG 9). The wellbeing and salvation of all must be our concern, not just the present interest of our village or clan. Since Catholics are used to living within this field of tension, they can contribute usefully to cultural and political discourse. At the moment we see almost everywhere how cynical rhetoric, playing on people’s fears, serves to narrow national horizons. By all means, let’s take our local task seriously; let’s invest ourselves in it, loving our nation, our community; but let’s never forget that God has entrusted to us with a care for the whole world in order that his gracious plan might be realised everywhere, in order that right and justice may be founded to the earth’s ends. Should we find ourselves exposed to chauvinism of one kind of another, may we have the guts and perseverance of the Canaanite woman. To bring hospitable broadness of mind into narrow corners, all-embracing love into closed circuits — that’s what a Catholic must do. Christ and the Canaanite Woman by Louisa Marchioness of Waterford (1818-1891). Illustration: Abbott and Holder Picture Dealers, London.
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Today is the Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary 🙏 MEMORARE - - REMEMBER, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession Read More 2 Comments
Today is the feast day of St. Pius X Real name Giuseppe Melchiorre Sarto, he adopted the name Pius X when he was named Pope in 1903. As a Pope he was known for his humble nature, and spoke frequently of Read More 1 Likes
Today we celebrate St Bernard St Bernard, 1090 - 1153, became a Cisterican monk at Citeaux in 1113 and was chosen Abbot of Clairvaux in 1115. His writings reveal a solid grasp of biblical studies, spiritual theology and philosophy. Patron Read More 4 Likes
BEHOLD I AM DOING A NEW THING Says the Lord (Isaiah 42:19) My friends, This is the theme that has inspired our prayer and dialogue across the diocese over this past while. It reflects our desire to be attentive to the Read More 18 Likes
