Natural JoyEvelyn Waugh wrote of his father Arthur that his ‘most obvious characteristic was theatricality, but I did not become conscious of this until it was pointed out to me at the age of sixteen by the first adult visitor I Read More
Not Getting WorseWe often assume that if only life were easier – if we weren’t subject to this worry or that constraint, if we were more prosperous, better established – we ourselves would be better, more virtuous. I gulped a little, therefore, Read More
22 Sunday AHomily preached in the church of Longyearbyen to commemorate the centenary of the first Catholic Mass offered on Svalbard by Bishop Johannes Olav Smit in August 1926, while we prayed, too, for King Harald, who left this life two days ago, on 27 August. Jer 20.7-9: You have overpowered me: you were the stronger. Rom 12.1-2: Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed. Mt 16.21-27: The way you think is not God’s way but man’s. My first conscious impression of Svalbard is a childish remembrance refreshed each year on New Year’s Eve, when King Olav at the end of his speech to the nation sent good wishes ‘to all of you on Svalbard, Jan Mayen, and in the Arctic.’ It sounded like a litany of enchanted names. As a child, I hardly thought about what the names meant, but they pointed northward towards a world of ice and long winters, the midnight sun and tough people. A southerner coming to Svalbard is tempted, even after just a few hours, to pour forth platitudes about grandiose nature and mystic solitude. Oh well. The solitude is rather softened these days by the fact that we are conveyed here comfortably by air and discover we have excellent mobile reception on arrival. Everything that distracts us elsewhere follows us here. Still, it’s gratifying to think oneself a little Nansen-like as one takes up position in a brand new arctic outfit to take a selfie against an austere background. It was quite a different matter to arrive on Svalbard a few generations ago, after a tiring journey at sea. Once arrived, it was hard to get away, especially during winter. Awareness of the 900 kilometres of icy water lying between oneself and the mainland must have been a tad oppressive even to keen explorers. And what might the life of trappers have been like during the Polar night, in isolated cabins, days’ travel away even from other people on the island? Helge Ingstad, who served as governor for a couple of years from 1933, described how he called on one such, a man thought to be ill, since there had been no sighting of him for a while. The trapper turned out to be physically fit, but soul-struck. ‘He looked at us with an amazed, distant gaze, the first human beings seen for an eternity. Our presence seemed to shatter his world, focused on life in solitude as darkness weighed down and the snowstorm came in as a shower of whiplashes from the Polar ice. At the same time something like fearful joy came over him’. This image makes me think of accounts of the first monks of Egypt who, in the fourth century, wishing to emulate Elijah and John the Baptist, withdrew from society and went into the desert to be alone. They did not despise other men; no, they were kindly disposed. Quite simply, they wished to be relieved of any illusions they might have about themselves. They knew that we, in order truly to encounter others, and to know the utterly Other, God, must first meet ourselves in truth. To meet oneself means facing one’s vulnerability. We live in a world that seeks to cancel vulnerability. Since industrialisation, particularly in the near-century that has passed since Ingstad whizzed around on a dog-sled in these parts, we have been assured that nothing in nature is beyond out power of control. We have firmly believed that technical progress will let us master any earthly circumstance; indeed, the tech-gurus of our time think earth too little, they are keen to conquer the moon. At the same time, the fabric of the world as we have known it is unravelling. As King Haakon told the nation last night, we live, now, with a new degree of uncertainty, surrendered to factors beyond our control, less and less convinced by pompous politicians who promise supremacy in return for adulation and cash. What we need now isn’t more virtual fantasy; what we need is a healthy sense of the real. Reality is what the desert conveys, be it tropical or arctic. If we switch off our phones, Svalbard teaches us much that is essential. Even a visitor realises that. Nature is in a state of change, the ice is melting. That fact is ineluctable here. The question of who is to blame is important, but not the most important one. We must learn to relate to what is now, to what will be. That is something we can only manage together. In the desert, we perish if we stay isolated too long. Along Isfjorden, geological layers exposed to the light of day show how Svalbard’s mountains have come into being over hundreds of thousands of years. If we have eyes that see, we realise how minute we are in time as well as space. If we have ears that hear, that realisation will resonate with eternity. ‘Before the mountains were brought forth, you are God’, we read in a Psalm. I dare say you can’t live on Svalbard for any length of time without, at some level, turning into a theologian. Today’s readings exhort us to see the world afresh. ‘Do not be conformed to this world’, writes Paul, ‘but be transformed in the renewal of your minds.’ In the Gospel Jesus rebukes Peter sharply: ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle in my path, because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s.’ The form of the world and a human way of thinking tell us that we are on our own, that the law of existence is premised on the survival of the fittest, and that other people, well, will just have to mind themselves. The mind of God, meanwhile, and the path he bids us follow teach us that we are responsible for one another. If we walk along that path for a bit, we realise that this responsibility need not, in fact, crush us; for God keeps us all in his hand, at once almighty and divinely tender. Ingstad’s description of the trapper he met in the 30s tells us much about the roughness of life on Svalbard; it also spells out the human condition as such. For aren’t we all, to a large degree, conditioned to envisage a solitary life, resigned to the darkness and storms outside our front door, kept locked; and don’t we, at the same time, hope that someone might still brave the storm winds and knock? When a friendly face showed, Ingstad notes, ‘something like fearful joy’ came over the man. After a while, the joy of the encounter drove the fear out. Jesus reprimanded Peter because the Apostle did not see what it costs to trace the path of God in this world. Jesus had just pointed towards the cross, the sacrifice awaiting him, saying: This must come about! Peter refused to accept it. Only later, after having wept bitter tears in solitude, did he understand how it all fit together. We must remain rooted in that connectedness. We do so by pouring out of our lives, by bringing the good news of reconciliation, healing, and possible friendship to anxious, hopeless people round about us, people ensconced in loneliness. We shall do this as least as effectively with actions as with words. It was in order to bring the effective oblation of Christ to Svalbard that Bishop Smit came in 1926 to offer the first official Catholic Mass on this continent. A Christian fellowship now flourishes here. Thankful for the grace God has poured out on Svalbard this past century, we wish to answer for that grace, staying anchored in the real, resistant to illusions, without letting ourselves being overwhelmed by fear. Let us knock on the doors of snowed-under cabins whether we find them out in the arctic wilderness or in the urban desert on the mainland. If we do, the fearful joy of others may find blessed, safe release. In the name of Christ! Amen.
King Harald V RIPThe tradition of the Church gives us a prayer to recite when death is near and our own words fail us. The prayer, from the ninth century, begins like this: ‘Go forth, Christian soul, from this world, in the name of God the Father almighty, who created you; in the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who suffered for you; in the name of the Holy Spirit, who was poured forth on you’. The prayer reminds us that physical death is a passage from life to Life. Today our beloved king, Harald V, has made this passage. With reverence and gratitude we commend him to God’s loving mercy. All of us must make this passage one day. That is our life’s only certainty. Still, the passing of a king affects us uniquely. We suddenly feel orphaned, surrounded by a resounding absence. In an exemplary manner, King Harald embodied the nation. We were aware that he saw us, knew us, valued us. We knew his care, were embraced by the warmth he exuded. He gave us a magnificent example of dedication. He was so entirely our king, given to his people. No ego seemed to stand in the way. That brought him near to us in a wholly beneficent way. We, the Catholics of Norway, pray devotedly for him. We pray for Her Majesty the Queen and for the royal family. Not least we pray for King Haakon VIII, that God may grant him wisdom and choice blessings. The old acclamation, ‘The King is dead, long live the King!’, stirs us today. The monarchy represents a stable axis in society. It stands for self-evident continuity. In our uncertain times, that is comforting. King Harald has, with Queen Sonja, brought a unique kind of stability to Norway. Ever dignified, the king has been a natural point of reference in both grief and gladness. He has spoken wisely to us, with a kind, quirky humour we shall miss. We will now stand loyally by King Haakon, that the heritage may continue, nurtured by the trust that for ages has bound the people and its sovereign together in this country. The deathbed prayer culminates in an expression of firm, luminous hope: ‘May your place today be in peace, your dwelling with God.’ Trusting in the intercession of St Olav, Perpetual King of Norway, we bless the memory of King Harald V and pray that he may rest in peace. We thank God for everything he gave us through him. Requiescat in pace! +Erik Varden ocso Bishop av Trondheim and Apostolic Administrator of Tromsø Portrait from NRK
Natural JoyEvelyn Waugh wrote of his father Arthur that his ‘most obvious characteristic was theatricality, but I did not become conscious of this until it was pointed out to me at the age of sixteen by the first adult visitor I introduced into the house. This friend said to me: “Charming, entirely charming, and acting all the time.” When I consulted her, my mother confirmed this judgement. […] I must not be thought to impute insincerity to him. It was simply that his nature required every thought and emotion to have immediate histrionic expression. […] He read aloud with precision of tone, authority and variety that I have heard excelled only by Sir John Gielgud. […] In these recitations of English prose and verse the incomparable variety of English vocabulary, the cadences and rhythms of the language, saturated my young mind, so that I never thought of English Literature as a school subject, as matter for analysis and historical arrangement, but as a source of natural joy. It was a legacy that has not depreciated.’
Year of JubileePress Statement Released on Wednesday 26 August 2026 Catholic Bishops Rejoice in Audience Accorded Church of Norway Bishop Fredrik Hansen and Bishop Erik Varden are delighted that the bishops of the Lutheran church of Norway will encounter Pope Leo XIV in an audience today. ‘We have excellent ecumenical relations with the church of Norway and are pleased that the bishops have an opportunity to meet Pope Leo XIV. We look forward to the millennium of Norway’s conversion and hope this jubilee will give occasion for broad ecumenical collaboration’, says Bishop Fredrik Hansen. ‘It is on account of St Olav that we prepare to keep an important millennium in 2030 and 2031’, stresses Bishop Erik Varden. ‘St Olav is at the heart of the celebration. 29 July 2030 will mark the millennium of his martyr’s death at Stiklestad; 3 August 2031 will mark the millennium of his exhumation, when his body was found incorrupt. On that day he was proclaimed a saint not just for Norway, but for all of Christendom.’ That is why the Norwegian bishops have petitioned Pope Leo to proclaim a special Year of Jubilee for the Catholic Church in Norway lasting from the feast of St Olav, 29 July, in 2030 until the feast of the translation of St Olav’s relics, 3 August, in 2031. A Year of Jubilee is for Catholics a year of special grace that highlights the importance of pilgrimage, prayer, conversion, and reconciliation. ‘Such a Year of Jubilee will give both the Norwegian faithful and pilgrims come from abroad a unique chance to follow in the footsteps of St Olav and to renew their faith in gratitude for the Christian patrimony with which Norway has been blessed, their eyes set on the Church’s present and future task in this country’, says Bishop Hansen. Bishop Varden adds: ‘As the name suggests, the Year of Jubilee will be not least an occasion to rejoice in what St Olav’s Christian legacy has done to enrich our country’s culture and self-understanding, our code of justice and our European context.’ *** Katolske biskoper gleder seg over paveaudiens for Den norske kirke Biskop Fredrik Hansen og biskop Erik Varden gleder seg over at biskopene i Den norske kirke i dag skal møte pave Leo XIV i audiens. – Vi har svært gode økumeniske relasjoner med Den norske kirke, og gleder oss over at biskopene får møte pave Leo XIV. Vi ser særlig frem mot kristningsjubileet og håper jubileet kan bli en anledning til bredt økumenisk samarbeid, sier biskop Fredrik Hansen. – Hellig Olav er årsaken til at Norge feirer kristningsjubileet i 2030 og 2031. Han står i sentrum for feiringen. 29. juli 2030 er det tusen år siden hans martyrdød på Stiklestad; 3. august 2031 er det tusen år siden hans kropp ble funnet intakt og han ble anerkjent som helgen, ikke kun for Norge, men for Verdenskirken, fremhever biskop Erik Varden. De katolske biskopene i Norge har derfor bedt pave Leo XIV om å utrope et særskilt jubelår for Den katolske kirke i Norge, fra olsok 29. juli 2030 til vesleolsok 3. august 2031. Et jubelår er i Den katolske kirke en særlig nådetid, med vekt på pilegrimsferd, bønn, omvendelse og forsoning. – Et slikt jubelår vil gi troende i Norge og pilegrimer utenfra en særlig anledning til å følge i Hellig Olavs spor og fornye troen, i takknemlighet for den kristne arven Norge har mottatt, og med blikket rettet mot Kirkens oppdrag i Norge i dag og i fremtiden, sier biskop Fredrik Hansen. – Ikke minst er jubelåret, som navnet tilsier, en oppfordring til å glede oss over alt den kristne Olavsarven har bidratt med for å berike vårt lands kultur og selvforståelse, vårt rettssystem og vår europeiske forankring, sier biskop Erik Varden. An imitation of the twelfth-century shrine made to house St Olav’s relics, to which pilgrims flocked from all over Europe. Photograph: Wikipedia.
Not Getting WorseWe often assume that if only life were easier – if we weren’t subject to this worry or that constraint, if we were more prosperous, better established – we ourselves would be better, more virtuous. I gulped a little, therefore, while praying the Office of Readings this morning, suddenly noticing what Saint Louis of France, who died on this day in 1270, while Henry III was king of England, actually wrote to his son and heir in his spiritual testament: ‘If the Lord has permitted you to have some trial, bear it willingly and with gratitude, considering that it has happened for your good and that perhaps you well deserved it. If the Lord bestows upon you any kind of prosperity, thank him humbly and see that you become no worse for it, either through vain pride or anything else, because you ought not to oppose God or offend him in the matter of his gifts.’ It’s a helpful counsel. It takes purity of mind and heart to sail in fair winds without being puffed up. Saint Louis also told his son: ‘Sooner be tormented by martyrdom before you allow yourself to commit a mortal sin.’ https://coramfratribus.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/Saint-Louis-Spiritual-Testament.mp3
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Today we celebrate the memorial of the Passion of Saint John the Baptist, the one sent to prepare the way for the Lord who dies a martyr's death - his last act of witness to Christ. He is patron saint of Read More 2 Comments
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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
