Things on my Blog - Venerable Fulton Sheen

 

Fulton J. Sheen (1895-1979) was an American Archbishop, and a great and eloquent preacher. He had a great talent for conveying theological ideas, preaching in a clear and simple, yet unpatronising way. Many of his talks and sermons are recorded, and also published in his various books - he had the courage to tackle controversial topics head on, to stand up for the Faith, and does not 'pull any punches' in what he says. He was a most entertaning speaker to listen to, keeping your attention through his use of dramatic delivery (he often resembles a Shakespearian actor), and by the use of humour to draw you in before making the serious and profound point.

Through the 1950's and '60's, he had a regular 'slot' on American prime-time television - imagine something like that happening now (especially in the UK - the BBC giving up an hour of early evening TV to let a Bishop preach - there would be a thing to behold!).

There is a cause for his canonisation which was opened in 2002. In June 2012, the Holy Father officially recognized a decree from the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, stating that he lived a life of "heroic virtues", and granted him the title 'Venerable'.

Below is a sequence of videos which show Fulton Sheen's last Good Friday sermon, a few months before his death.

 

 

 

 

Thinking alike

Having written my previous post, I see that Fr. Tim has also been reflecting on the four last things - see here for a very clear and succinct summary of things to remember.

Also, congratulations, Father, on your 4,000,000 th. reader - your contribution to the Catholic Blogosphere is very much appreciated.

Respice Finem

 

 

The month of November's focus on the Holy Souls encourages us to do two things:

1. To remember, of our charity, to pray for the souls in Purgatory, and hopefully give them a helping hand towards paradise
2. To reflect on the end of our own life and the Four Last Things, and consider the current state of our own souls in relation to this.

Our modern, western culture doesn't like to think about death. There is a tendency to sanitise it, or to divert the focus away from the issue (consider how common it is when reporting the death of a famous person, or when giving an address at a funeral, to cut as quickly as possible to some entertaining anecdote from their life) or just to pretend it doesn't exist (I was struck by the absurdity of a charity's use of the slogan 'No Child Born to Die' - surely that is the one certainty we have; hopefully they will have a reasonably good 'innings' beween the two events, but death is definitely going to happen at some point: our death is even more certain than our birth).

Ignoring death isn't a healthy thing: if we don't think about the future, then we are unlikely to prepare for it. This doesn't, of course, mean we should become preoccupied with death: there is no need to become maudlin about it, or to theatricalise (is that actually a word?) it in some gothic fashion. Life is good and worth living, but we can live it in a way that works towards the next step, and will very likely have a better and more enjoyable life if we do this.

This is the reason I have added a Memento Mori to my blog. This is a very old and traditional Catholic practice - to maintain some small symbol (traditionally an image of a skull or skeleton) in some place where it will occasionally jog our memory to think about where we are heading.
I have also added the motto 'Respice Finem' (Think about (literally 'respect') the end) - this is the motto of Homerton College, Cambridge, where I trained as a teacher (I believe it is also used by the London Oratory School): a good motto for somewhere concerned with education - when study gets hard, it's useful to recall why you're doing it (exam grades, future careers, 'life chances', etc.). By analogy, when life gets hard, it's good to remember where that is hopefully leading (to God and eternal happiness).

Bishop Egan makes his mark

I see that Protect the Pope have posted on The Tablet's recent attack on Bishop Egan's consecration address (read the full post here). There are still so many who can't see that this is, in fact, a testament to the bishop's orthodoxy and courage in defending the Faith.

 

 

Who knows? If this goes on, Richard Luzar might be making a set of pontifical vestments for Portsmouth Cathderal! ;-)

 

 (please see here for explanation if not 'in the know')

Things on my blog 2 - Altar of St. Francis, Malaga

Time for an explanation of the background wallpaper of my blog. I know that Mac on Mulier Fortis has already made a reference to it when introducing my efforts.

This is a depiction of the chapel of St. Francis in Malaga Cathedral, Spain. I am particularly fond of the reredos, having had a lot of influence from Franciscan spirituality over the years. Here is a clearer image (thanks to Zenobiarouse for allowing me to use it here).

 

 

I would like to draw your attention to the two principal statues: I am rather fond of Spanish religious art, as it tends towards realism rather than sentimentality (Spanish Cruxifixes, in particular, are often depications of real agony). This is the case here, and helps to bring home the meaning of one or two things about the Saints depicted.

 

First, the lower statue of St. Francis himself, who is, it must be said, a rather unprepossessing figure, the little poor man of Assisi. There is, however, a real sense of his concentration on the Crucifix he holds, being, as he was inextricably bound up in the death of Our Lord, even to the point of bearing his holy wounds, which are also quite graphically portrayed.

 

The upper statue, of St. Clare, is perhaps even more significant, as when I saw it, it immediately made real sense of perhaps the most famous story about her. The story in question tells of her convent being attacked by brigands, and of her effectively 'seeing them off' by coming out, carrying the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance. She is usually depicted in this act.

Unfortuanately, prior to visiting Malaga Cathedral, all the images I had seen scarcely did justice to the event, showing, as they did a rather simpering figure of St. Clare, holding the monstrance very formally and gently, and having a rather rosy and sentimental air about them.

This image changed that impression. For a start the niche in which the statue stands looks rather like a doorway, and you can imagine her bursting through; she carries the monstrance slightly askew, indicating the sponteneity of the action; and her face bears an expression, not of sentimental piety, but of determination and real Faith, that Our Lord will protect her.

Those wishing to attack a convent would have been motivated by a desire for one or more of three things: the valuables contained in the chapel, the bodies of the sisters themselves, or the descration of a sacred place (our enemies the world, the flesh and the devil in action as usual). What St.Clare does is to present them with all three - she carries probably the most financially valuable single vessel the convent possesses, she is vulnerable and comparatively defenceless, and she holds the most sacred thing, Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament - and challenges them to attack. Quite understandably they lose their nerve and flee.

 

So there is the story of the wallpaper. If you are visiting this part of Spain, I urge you to go to Malaga Cathedral and have a look for yourself. It is a splendid church and contains many other beautiful works of art and objects of devotion.

 

 



Things on my blog 1 - Medal of St. Benedict

At the top of my blog, I have included an image of the reverse side of the Jubilee Medal of St. Benedict.  I realise that some readers may be unfamiliar with this image, and so thought I had better give an explanation.

The medal was originally struck in 1880 at the Abbey of Montecassino (the one that was later to be embattled during WW2) to mark the 1400th. anniversary of the birth of St. Benedict. It combined and consolidated various earlier medals and devotional items associated with the saint, going back as far as the Middle Ages.

The medal is both a reminder of the importance of the Cross as our means of redemption and guide for life, and an exorcism against the powers of evil, and therefore soemthing I feel very appropriate to include at the head of a Catholic blog. It has become an increasinly popular devotion in recent years, and is often incorporated into crosses and cucifixes, and can now be obtained on t-shirts, etc. I have recently also obtained a Rosary in which each bead is a miniature version of the medal, adding yet another focus for mediatation to this powerful devotion.

The obverse of the medal features a picture of St. Benedict, holding in his right hand the Cross, and in his left a copy of his monastic rule. He is flanked by two images representing legends associated with his life: on the right a poisoned cup, which was shatteed when Benedict made the sign of the cross ove it, and on the left a raven taking away poisoned bread which had been sent by one of the saint's enemies. Above these images appaer the words Crux S. Patris Benedicti (The Cross of our holy father Benedict), and around the border the words Eius in obitu nostro praesentia muniamur (May we be strengthened at the hour of our death). Under Benedict's feet there is also an inscription ex SM Casino MDCCCLXXX, referring to the date and location where the medal was struck.

 

 

The reverse of the medal features a cross with various intials on and around it. On the cross itself, CSSSML + NDSMD (Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux + Nunquam Draco Sit Mihi Dux - May the Holy Cross be my light + May the dragon (i.e. devil) never be my guide). Around the border is an admonishment to Satan - VRS NSMV SMQL IVB (Vade retro Satana! Nunquam suade mihi vana!  Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas! - Get thee behind me, Satan! Never tempt me with your vanities! The things you offer are evil. Drink your own poison!). At the top of the cross, appaers the word Pax (peace), and in the four quadrants, the letters CSPB (Crux Sancti patris Benedicti - the cross of our holy father, Benedict).

A lot of poweful imagery and something to meditate on - I commend the medal as a devotion.

Yesterday

Yesterday turned out to be a particularly enjoyable and spiritual day for me.

I began with brief trip to London in order to visit Westminster Cathedral and go to confession (as part of gaining the plenary indugence for the Holy Souls): for once I had some timeon my hands, and felt like making a small pilgrimage, so in itself this was very rewarding. There was quite a substantial queue for the confessional when I arrived (it's encouraging to see people making good use of this sacrament), and, in fact, I had to wait for about an hour, (unexpectedly) hearing Mass in its entirety, as well as having ample time to make a good examination of conscience. The Mass was in the Ordinary Form, celebrated with considerable reverence by young, African priest (a rather nice set of Roman vestments, in black, also made an appearance).

After leaving the Cathedral, I took a bus to Charing Cross, via Whitehall, which was very apt, the various war memorials acting as foci for some short, private prayers for paricular groups of Holy Souls.

Blackfen in the evening: a very beautiful Missa Cantata, with another unexpected  'plus' - the arrival of a visiting schola (I think, mainly from Spanish Place), who did a most excellent job, delivering the chant to perfection. I believe Mac has some pictures of the Mass on her blog.

Finally, a nice pint in the social club, accompanied by some excellent cheese and biscuits, courtesy of Leutgeb .

So, a very pleasant day - prayer, beautiful liturgy, good company, and, most importantly, the chance to hopefully help a few souls through Purgatory. What could be better?