Gordian Marshall OP, RIP

The lead up to Christmas was overshadowed for us by the sudden death of our brother, Gordian Marshall OP, superior of the community in Glasgow. Please remember him in your prayers, as also all those who have died in recent days.

The Witness of the Incarnation - St John, Apostle and Evangelist

Readings: 1 John 1:1-4; Psalm 97; John 20, 1a, 2-8.

This is no coincidence, I think, that we celebrate the feast of St John, Apostle and Evangelist, in the Octave of Christmas. He is the first defender of the truth of the Incarnation. He testifies to
what he has heard,
what he has seen with his eyes,
what he looked uponand touched with his hands
he is a witness to the fact that God became one of us.

This truth is so incredible that over the centuries many have tried to deny it. Why is this so? I am sure that there is more than one way of accounting for this. Perhaps the most important reason is that the Incarnation shows clearly the radical love that God has for us. This could be an uncomfortable fact for many, even for us today: love is always a relationship that requires at least two persons, it requires a wholehearted response.

Perhaps we ourselves are not always ready to accept and respond to love with love. Nothing could be easier and more difficult at the same time because of our fear of commitment. But loving God is no serfdom but liberation and deep in our hearts we all long for this Beauty, ‘ever ancient and ever new.’

Nativity of our Lord

Two years ago, I had the most beautiful celebration of Christmas I have ever had in my life. There was no incense or sparkling chasubles, no gleaming liturgical vessel, no elaborated liturgy, no endless rehearsal with the choir, no carols sung joyfully by a half-sleepy congregation, no turkey, no hazy Boxing Day … None of these things we might usually expect. Nothing but a Eucharist in its simplest form celebrated with my family in my mother’s room, in the hospital where she was living her last days … Life is sometimes paradoxical. In the heart of our suffering, profound joy can be sometimes discerned and the voice of the Lord who says ‘I am with you’ can be heard. And the Incarnation is the great mystery that destroys all our categories and securities. Our gaze is sometimes too weak to see and understand him: whilst in the Old Testament, God was presented as creating by separation, the new creation we celebrate today is a creation that put together things that are seemingly impossible to reconcile, God and Man.

In a wonderful sermon on the Virgin Mother, Saint Bernard writes about this paradox and about the many wonders and prodigies of the Incarnation. In the Incarnation, he says, we can behold ‘Eternity shortened, Immensity contracted, Sublimity leveled down, Profundity made shallow. We can contemplate the Light without splendor, the Word without speech, Water which is thirsty, and Bread that feels hunger. We see Omnipotence being ruled, Omniscience being instructed, Virtue supported, God feeding at the breast whilst he nourishes the angels.’ But what is not less astonishing, in the Incarnation of our Lord, we can discover ‘sadness giving joy, fear producing confidence, suffering a source of health, death communicating life, weakness imparting strength.’ In a sense, the mystery of the Incarnation turns upside-down all our categories. We can see the beauty in a dying person in a hospital, not as if pain and suffering could give any meaning to anything at all, but simply because within flaws and rifts, we can discern the feeble strength and the discrete presence of the One who walks with us. Grass sometimes grows on the sand ...

So, the wonderful mystery of the Incarnation we celebrate today invites us to discern the mysterious presence of God, not outside, but within our lives. And this might be difficult to do, because sometimes, we do not accept the tenderness of God. We do not want a God crying and suffering. We would like a God in front of whom we bow, with incense, sparkling chasubles, gleaming liturgical vessels, and elaborated liturgy … and not a God kneeling. But the Incarnation of our Lord shows us that a God who manifests himself clearly as God is not God but simply the King of the World. God is with us. God is within us. Merry Christmas!

Happy Christmas!

The Godzdogz team wishes all our readers a joyful and blessed Christmas!

Genealogy

During First Vespers of Christmas in Blackfriars, Oxford, the genealogy of our Lord Jesus Christ according to St Matthew is sung in Latin using Dominican chant. Below is a video of this beautiful and joyful proclamation of the Gospel sung by Br Benedict Jonak, OP.

Christmas Eve - The Benedictus

Readings: 2 Samuel 7:1-5, 8b-12, 14a, 16; Psalm 89; Luke 1:67-79.

In today's gospel we have the prayer of Zechariah, otherwise known as the Benedictus after the first words of the prayer in Latin "Benedictus Dominus Deus Israel", "Blessed be the Lord the God of Israel". The Benedictus is the gospel canticle, or song, that is chanted at lauds (morning prayer). Lauds is one of the most ancient offices of the Latin Church and we know from the writings of St. Benedict that as early as the 6th century, if not earlier, the Benedictus constituted the high point of the office after the psalms. That this prayer was taken up verbatim and was given a central place in the prayer of the Church at such an early stage in the development of the Roman liturgy demonstrates how highly regarded it was by the people of God.

In the gospel narrative the prayer expresses the joy and thanks of Zechariah for God's work in his own life, in the life of his family, and the implications this will have for the whole world. When he was given the news of the conception of John the Baptist he lacked faith in the words of the angel. Because of his doubt he was struck silent - unable to express to others that which he was unable to believe. Contrast this episode with the annunciation of the birth of Our Lord Jesus to the Blessed Virgin by the archangel Gabriel. Our Lady does not doubt. Her question seeks seeks not a proof but an explanation: "how can this be?". Since Mary believed, she was able to find joy in the words of the angel and express it through her own canticle, the Magnificat. Zechariah, however, had to wait until the naming of St. John before he could demonstrate his faith and thus be free to sing the praises of the Lord.

In this day before the great feast of the Nativity let us pray for an increase in faith, hope and love, and for an evangelical zeal that, like Zechariah, we may be given by the Holy Spirit the words to preach to our world.

Advent Sunday 4 - God is with us

Readings: Isaiah 7:10-14; Psalm 23; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25

Today we are presented with two similar scenarios. Ahaz and St. Joseph are both in difficult situations. They have made up their minds on how to proceed, but then they hear the Word of God. Joseph is changed, but Ahaz is not.

Ahaz, King of Judah is living in fear for his life. Two armies are marching towards Jerusalem with the intention of deposing him. Faced with such a prospect, Ahaz puts his faith in his Assyrian allies. Isaiah comes to remind Ahaz that he should only place his faith in God. It is in this context that the sign of hope, the birth of Immanuel is prophesized – God’s promise that everything is going to be ok. Ahaz rejects the message quoting Deuteronomy as a rather feeble excuse.

Contrast this with Joseph, who no doubt could have found a passage of scripture to justify not taking Mary as his wife. Instead, he hears the Word of God and it changes him.

Faced with the problems of the world today, we should reflect on how we can be more like Joseph and less like Ahaz. Maybe the difference between Joseph and Ahaz is expressed in today’s psalm, Joseph being the man with clean hands and pure heart, who desires not worthless things. Where does that leave us whose hands and hearts are stained by sin? If we fully embrace the sacraments, our hands can be cleansed and our hearts purified. In this way we can grow into the Body of Christ. The prophecy is fulfilled – God is truly with us.

Christmas Concert at Blackfriars

December 22 - Pregnant with Hope

Readings: 1 Sam 1:24-28; 1 Sam 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8; Luke 1:46-56

The song of Hannah - quoted in part in today's responsorial psalm - had a profound influence on Mary's song, the Magnificat, which we hear in the Gospel. Both these songs, spoken under the inspiration of the Spirit by women who are miraculously pregnant, are themselves pregnant with God's promise. Significantly, although the liturgical text does not cite this, Hannah ends her prayer with these words: "The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed." As we know, this promise is fulfilled in the child - the Son of the Most High - whom the Virgin Mary carries in her womb, and the Spirit who has opened Hannah's womb also opens her lips to speak her words of praise and prophecy. Every evening the same Spirit opens the lips of Holy Mother Church as she sings with one voice and for all ages, the hope-filled words of Mary who is the Church's "type and excellent exemplar in faith and charity" (Lumen Gentium, 53).

While Hannah's words are anticipatory, Mary's Magnificat is in a tense that indicates something already accomplished. As we sing these words each day and recall that still the rich and powerful lord it over the humble and meek, we may rightly wonder how it is that Mary's song (which is not, as some might be tempted to think, a socio-political manifesto) can be in the past tense?

Hannah certainly looked forward to the Christ child, the Redeemer promised to her people, but Mary and we, the Church, who are her children, have already entered into that long awaited promise. Unlike Hannah we no longer await Christ but rather, through our baptism, we have been reborn in the Spirit and become members of Christ's Body, the Church. It is this blessing that the Church is empowered to bear to all people. As Pope Benedict XVI has said: "When you [Mary] hastened with holy joy across the mountains of Judea to see your cousin Elizabeth, you became the image of the Church to come, which carries the hope of the world in her womb across the mountains of history."

However, like a pregnant woman, we Christians live not so much in anticipation of a promise but in hope, allowing the Spirit to fulfill in our lives that promise already accomplished in Christ. As St Paul says: "creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God" (Romans 8:19). Therefore, the Holy Father also said in his second encyclical, Spes Salvi, that hope "is the expectation of things to come from the perspective of a present that is already given. It is a looking-forward in Christ's presence, with Christ who is present, to the perfecting of his Body, to his definitive coming." Rooted in the first coming of Christ but looking forward to His return in glory - an event that would complete the prophecy in Hannah's song - Advent is thus pregnant with this essential dynamic of Christian hope. And this blessed hope founded upon faith in Christ is the most loving Christmas present we could give to those around us.

December 21 - Elizabeth brought to faith

Readings: Song of Songs 2:8-14 (or Zephaniah 3:14-18a); Psalm 33; Luke 1:39-45

The ministry of Jesus is to open eyes so that they might see, open ears that they might hear, and loose tongues that they might speak. He attends, as one of our hymns puts it, to 'poor human bodies, howsoever stricken'. His ministry is all about faith and the relationship of human beings with God. But it is also therefore all about human bodies since how else are we to live out a 'spiritual' life if not physically?

The visitation of Mary to Elizabeth is about 'ears' and 'tongues' - and the small matter of a baby leaping in his mother's womb. Mary speaks and Elizabeth hears, believes, and in her turn, proclaims. The visitation is a short event that nevertheless encapsulates the preaching and hearing of the gospel. The word is spoken - Mary has carried the word across the hill country of Judea to her cousin. Elizabeth hears and believes - 'the sound of your greeting reached my ears' seems unnecessarily ornate but thereby draws attention to itself: the word reaching the ear. She proclaimed with a loud proclamation - again it seems unnecessarily ornate: she shouted with a great shout is one way of translating it: the word reaching the heart. The kicking of John the Baptist in his mother's womb is as nothing compared with her shriek of faith!

Elizabeth thus comes to believe in the moment in which she praises Mary's faith. The Spirit works through physical events - an encounter, words spoken and heard, a leaping baby - to establish faith in Elizabeth. Her canticle - blessed are you among women ... who am I that the mother of my Lord ... blessed are you that believed - seems closely related to that of another woman we meet later in Luke's gospel. In Luke 11 we hear of a woman crying out to Jesus, 'happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked' to which Jesus replies 'happy rather those who hear the Word of God and keep it'. He doesn't say to her 'would you mind being a bit less explicit in front of the children'. Instead he says 'blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and practise it' - exactly what Elizabeth says to Mary: 'blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled'.

Scenes from the Provincial Assembly 2007

From 17 - 19 December, the brothers of the English Dominican province gathered for an assembly, several months ahead of the provincial chapter, to discuss various reports pertaining to the life and mission of the province. The meeting was characterised by good humour and fraternal charity coupled with a zeal for preaching the Gospel and for our religious life. As we came together to pray, listen, reflect and discuss aspects of our life and work today, one could appreciate anew the words of the psalm: 'Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity' (133:1).

Below are some photos from the assembly:









Two brothers were instituted as lectors, and another two brothers as acolytes in the Mass on 19 December celebrated by the Provincial. These are instituted ministries in service of the Word and the Altar, respectively.

Finally, below are sights and sounds from Vespers including a video of the O antiphon 'O Radix' sung at Vespers on 19 December together with the Magnificat in Latin.







'O Root of Jesse, set up as a sign for the peoples, before whom kings will stop their mouths, to whom the nations will pray: come to set us free, delay no more.'

December 20 - Hindsight is 20/20

Readings: Isaiah 7:10-14; Psalm 24:1-2, 3-4ab, 5-6; Luke 1:26-38

Each Advent we hear a lot in our readings about John the Baptist. An experienced preacher once told me that it is hard going thinking of new and innovative ways of preaching about John as it gets towards this point in the season. Most of the things that are important to say have already been said by others earlier on. How do you say the same thing again, in a different way, when Fr. X said it so well the other week? Having said that, when we get to today's Gospel, that whole process of underlining the importance of John seems to me to have been well worth while. Why so, you may ask? Today's Gospel gives us the account of the Annunciation to Mary and not another part of the story of John the Baptist. In any case, the events in John's life that we have been focusing on up to this point - his preaching and call to repentance - are much later, years after the Annunciation.

Well, perhaps we are given a hint in the story of the Gospel about what the fruit of 'preparing a way for the Lord' might be for us. We know little about Mary's life, but our belief about her as full of grace, prefect in her obedience to the will of God, becomes important in understanding what it was that John was proclaiming. Mary's life was lived as complete receptivity to God's Word, so much so that she was able to allow that the Word became flesh through her. If we take John the Baptist's message, and use it as a frame with which to look back in history at the Annunciation, we see that preparing the way for the Lord means making ourselves ready for Christ to dwell in us, at the level of the individual and of the whole Church. Today the Church gives us the example of Mary as the icon of that receptivity which results from having lived a life of devotion to God. May we take her example to heart, and through her intercession, may we be made ready to receive her Son this Christmas.

December 19 - Prophets in our own time

Readings: Judges 13:2-7, 24-25a; Psalm 71; Luke 1:5-25

We hear today of how Zechariah was informed of the conception of his son, John the Baptist. John, the gospels tell us, was a prophet, and even more than a Prophet. He is the one who prepares the way for Christ. We hear very little about prophets in our own time. When we do speak of someone as a prophet, it is usually a way of making fun of someone, suggesting that they are eccentric or even mad. John the Baptist seems to fit into the same category: here is a man who lives in the wilderness wearing distinctive clothes and eating a strange diet. What would we think of such a man today I wonder....

But the life of John the Baptist shows us something of what we are all called to be. After all, through our Baptism we share in Christ's prophetic mission. We, just like John, should prepare the way for the coming of Christ. How so? Our lives are mostly pretty ordinary. We have the same kinds of routine to our lives as non-Catholics. We work, eat, sleep, do the shopping, look after the family and so on. But it is within this routine that we are called to prepare a way for the Lord. We need only think of the number of encounters that we have with others each day to realise how important it is that our lives point us towards Christ, and draw others to him too. We may wish to reflect how good a witness we have been to Christ. Maybe there are times when we get in the way, make it hard for others to see Christ. We should also remember the importance of the wilderness, that place of encounter with God that makes it possible for us to be good witnesses, to point beyond ourselves. We all need to try and make sure that we never cease in our efforts to make a space for God in prayer, so that we can sanctify our lives, so that we can be effective in making Christ known.

The O Antiphons

Last year's recordings of the O antiphons, with music from the Dominican chant books are still online and may be viewed here.

Salve procession

A provincial assembly is being held in Oxford from 17 -19 December, and we shall be bringing you photos and videos from this event, which is a rare opportunity for the English Dominicans to come together and enjoy our fraternal life as a province. Below is a live video recording of the 'Salve Regina' sung to Dominican chant after Vespers on the first day of the Assembly.

Advent Tuesday 3 - Actions speak louder than words

Readings: Jeremiah 23:5-8; Psalm 71; Matthew 1:18-24

'Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid.' It is often said that actions speak louder than words. An overdone proverb perhaps, but nevertheless a wise one. St Joseph shows the truth of this proverb in today’s gospel. Joseph has a dream – like the Joseph of the Old Testament. In this dream an angel appears to him and tells him not to be afraid and to take Mary as his wife, for the son she is to bear is from the Holy Spirit. Joseph arises and is obedient to the angel’s command. He accepts the will of God and seeks wholeheartedly to follow it. This reminds us of the Lord’s later teaching in the Gospels: "it is not those who say ‘Lord, Lord’ who will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but those who do the will of the Father". St Joseph is for us a perfect example of this.

Today’s gospel passage has sometimes been seen to parallel the annunciation of the Angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary in the Gospel of Luke. In this regard Pope John Paul II wrote that, with regard to what God asked of him through the angel, Joseph showed his readiness of will like that of Mary. In this sense, the words of Elizabeth spoken to Mary at the Visitation, “blessed is she who believed”, can be referred to Joseph as well. What Joseph did, the late pope remarks, ‘is the clearest “obedience of faith”’ (Redemptoris Custos 3 & 4).

Advent Monday 3 - What a family!

Readings: Genesis 49:2,8-10; Psalm 72; Matthew 1:1-17

When the Word became flesh it was into a very human family, a family of 'flesh and blood', as Herbert McCabe put it 'a lot of flesh and considerably more blood'. If you read about the lives and activities of the people mentioned in Matthew's genealogy you will see what he means (in Genesis, 1 and 2 Kings, Ruth, 1 and 2 Chronicles ...). Attention is often drawn to the women mentioned in the list - Tamar the mother of Perez, Rahab the mother of Boaz, Ruth the mother of Obed, Bathsheba the mother of Solomon, and Mary the mother of Jesus. There is something unusual about each of them. Rahab and Ruth are non-Hebrews, 'foreigners' through whom nevertheless God works to bring about the fulfillment of his promises. In some cases - Tamar and Bathsheba - the relationship through which they became the mother of an ancestor of Jesus had something dubious about it. The 'dysfunctional' character of these relationships, and the flawed lives of the men mentioned in the list, might surprise and even shock us, but on reflection is it not a reason for hope? We believe that the Word became flesh, not that he came near to us, or hovered over us, or dealt us a glancing blow like a tangent not really touching a circle. We believe that he became immersed in the dysfunctionality of human lives and relationships - all that we mean by 'sinful flesh' - and that it is by taking on what is ours that He made it possible for us to become what he is. Against this background the holiness of Mary, the mother of Jesus, stands out. Not that she is unreal: she is the most real of the people mentioned, the one living most fully in the light of truth, showing us the kindness and generosity that flow from the love of God, flesh and blood transfigured by grace.

Advent Sunday 3 - The desert shall blossom

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-6a,10; Psalm 146; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

It has always struck me how dreary Advent can become. The absence of the joyful strains of 'Gloria' and the dark purple vestments counter the bright lights and happy singing of the commercial world. But today we are given a little reprieve from our waiting and given the opportunity to rejoice. Gaudete Sunday is like a practice-run of our Christmas celebration, and the rose-coloured vestments mark that contrast for us.

This liturgical practice reflects the manner in which our Christian hope is lived. In our lives, we experience the darkness of sin and evil. We are called to confront these realities, and to seek redemption through them. Yet we can already taste the freedom of our eternal salvation in Christ. This is why we can rejoice today. The reality of our waiting is truly bitter, but the reality of our redemption is truly at hand.

The Prophet Isaiah describes this paradox for us: the desert shall rejoice and blossom, those of weak heart and feeble knees should stand firm - our God comes with vengeance to save us. Our salvation has been revealed. Now we must wait patiently, wait as the farmer waits for his crops to grow. Our Lord is coming soon, he will not delay. We have no need to expect another. Let us rejoice in the knowledge of our Lord, and savour the sweetness of our salvation.

Advent Saturday 2 - The trap of authority

Readings Sirac 48:1-4, 9-11, Psalm 80, Matthew 17:9a, 10-13

It sounds quite dramatic what Jesus says about the scribes:

“Elijah has already come, and the scribes did not recognize him but did to him whatever they pleased. So also will the Son of Man suffer at their hands.”

Jesus does not say about them that they were wicked people, or murderers. But in a sense their fault is much heavier than that. Their approach to people was institutionalised and blindly chained to the letter of the law. This is how they misunderstood the preaching of John the Baptist and this is why they were about to start persecuting Jesus. Both men could not fit into the scribes’ understanding of how God’s salvation is going to come about. The scribes were figures of authority and for them to accept challenge from two young men, John and Jesus, who were neither important nor educated, was something unthinkable.
This is an ever present temptation in our own life, to presume that as long as we are in a position of authority whatever we do is going to be to somebody’s advantage. But do we care to listen with a keen ear to what others are telling us? Or do we just categorize them and force-feed them with our scheme of things?

We need to remember today perhaps even more than in the past, that it is the human person that is ‘the way of the Church’.

Advent Friday 2 - St John of the Cross

Readings: Is 48:17-19; Ps 1; Mt 11:16-19

Many people loathe Christmas. I do, too. But what I despise isn’t the solemnity of the Incarnation, the celebration of the Word becoming flesh, dwelling with us so that we could see his glory, but what our secular world has made of it: the saccharine conviviality, the relentless jolliness, the artificial cheer, the being penned up with people we spend the rest of the year avoiding – no wonder families fall apart under the pressure of the ‘festive’ season. Another hallmark of the pagan gluttony with which our contemporary culture has debased the religious feast is, of course, overtired, overstimulated, stressed out and thoroughly unpleasant children. Which brings me to today’s gospel.

In the passage we’ve heard Matthew depicts the contemporaries of the Baptist and Jesus as being like disagreeable children who complain that others do not meet their desires and expectations. One group complains that the others refuse to respond to either the wedding game “we piped for you, and you did not dance”, or the funeral game “we wailed, and you did not mourn”. The point is that there is no positive response to either Jesus or John by their opponents. This also has ecclesiological significance for ourselves today: both Jesus and John before us suffered rejection, but we should not let this discourage us from being alert to God’s commandments, from following him in the way we must go, as Isaiah has told us.

Certainly John of the Cross had every reason to be discouraged. In his attempt to lead his brothers back into the way they must go, he had been persuaded by Teresa of Avila to join the Discalced Reform, but was seized and imprisoned for a time by those who rejected it, and him. Some may find the stark demands of his mystical asceticism, his refusal to settle for anything less than God - with the concomitant dispossession of our usual religious sensibilities, the ‘dark night’ of the soul - a terrifying prospect. But it’s important to note that this is only a preliminary, which yields to an awareness of God as the centre of our being, of the world’s being, of the Spirit praying within us with words we do not know how to utter. The Carmelite stresses the experience of God in faith as a vision of the creator, as well as the “wise, ordered, gracious and loving mutual correspondence” among creatures (Spiritual Canticle B xxxix. 11.), in this perhaps against the somewhat over-individualistic assurance of faith emphasised by the churches of the Reformation.

Advent Thursday 2 - the Kingdon is taken by force

Readings: Isaiah 41:13-20, Psalm 145, Matthew 11:11-15.

From the days of John the Baptist until now, the Kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent are taking it by force.

How is it possible for anybody to gain the kingdom of heaven by force? Who are these violent people and what is this force?

This force is not something we make ourselves do. This force is not something we make others do. This violent force is not something that does any harm to anybody.

The violence of this force is the violence with which we turn the order of the universe upside-down when we dare to call God our Father. This force is the courage with which the blind followed Jesus and cried aloud: "Have mercy on us, Son of David." This force is the persistent request of the Canaanite woman that her daughter be healed: “Lord, even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." This force is the meekenss with which the good thief addressed his prayer: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." This force is the prayer of the Holy Spirit who cries in us when we pray.

I guess you have realized by now that these violent people are you and I, for whose sake the Word became flesh.

Advent Talk 2 on Video

This year's second Advent talk, delivered by Br Romero Radix, O.P. on Wednesday night, is now available in a pre-recorded video for readers who cannot join us for our weekly talk, meditation and Compline.

Advent Tuesday 2 - Christian hope shown in beauty

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 96:1-3, 10-13; Matthew 18:12-14

Today's responsorial psalm exhorts us to 'sing to the Lord a new song' and the verses of today's first reading from Isaiah's book of consolation have inspired diverse composers, most notably Handel, to write beautiful music that proclaims God's gift of salvation to all people.

The prophet is told to comfort God's people and to speak tenderly to them, and that, surely, is the call He continues to give to the Church, our Mother. She - and so, each of her children - is called to be God's 'sacrament of salvation' for the world, a sign of redemption and hope to a fallen world. Our world is marred by sin and strife - it is for so many, a desert wilderness, barren of hope, and life is cheapened, mown down like grass by avarice and hatred.

Into this world despairing and buffeted by false philosophical opinions, the Church must cry out. Seeing the flock without a shepherd and moved by compassion, we are called to offer the Gospel - Good News! - tenderly to our contemporaries. This can only be possible if we are schooled in prayer to hope in the promises of Christ, confident in faith that He, the Good Shepherd will reveal His glory to us on the last day, and gather us into His arms. The world needs this hope, and so do we, as Benedict XVI expounds it in his recent encyclical, Spe salvi. We are called to share this hope with those around us.

The Holy Father also explained how early Christians expressed their hope through the visual arts, thus complementing the later musical art of Handel. Pope Benedict says: 'Towards the end of the third century, on the sarcophagus of a child in Rome, we find for the first time, in the context of the resurrection of Lazarus, the figure of Christ as the true philosopher, holding the Gospel in one hand and the philosopher's travelling staff in the other. With his staff, he conquers death; the Gospel brings the truth that itinerant philosophers had searched for in vain.' It is this hope in the fullness of Life found in Jesus, as well as our faith in Him as the unique Way and the Truth, that we are called to show to the world.

The beauty of the Christmas mystery has inspired much wonderful art and music and this is one way in which Christians have demonstrated their hope to the world. Let us follow their example, especially through that form of beauty we call 'holiness', serving God as He, in the Son, has served us.

Advent Monday 2 - The healing of the paralytic

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Psalm 84:9-14; Luke 5:17-26

‘Courage! Do not be afraid. Look your God is coming.’ These words of Isaiah are full of hope and encouragement. The Lord is coming to save us; we have nothing to fear.

There are many situations when people might be afraid. One could try to image the fears of the people in today’s Gospel – the paralysed man and his companions. Life must have been almost impossible for them. Hearing of the miracles that Jesus worked must have given them a glimmer of hope, but imagine the disappointment they must have felt when they found that the large crowd prevented them from meeting Jesus. Perhaps they feared that Jesus wouldn’t notice them. Maybe they wondered whether Jesus’ healing is something that just happens to other people. They were desperate, and entering through the roof was an act of desperation.

Jesus, seeing their faith, forgives their sins and heals them.

In this Advent season, we might ask ourselves how desperate we are to meet Jesus. In today’s psalm we hear that the Lord’s help is near for those who fear him. Do we have the right kind of fear of God, that loving reverence, that deep desire never to be separated from Him, the realisation of our total dependence on Him and the huge price of our redemption?

The paralysed man and his companions give us an ideal model for Christian fellowship. As Christians, we are not just concerned with our own personal salvation, but the Holy Spirit acting in our lives helps those around us to come close to God and be filled by the same Spirit.

Advent Sunday 2 - The crooked straight

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 15:4-9, Matthew 3:1-2

In today’s Gospel, we are told that it was John the Baptist whom the prophet Isaiah referred to when he said: "A voice cries in the wilderness: Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight." Advent is a time for reflecting on our lives in order to prepare for the coming of Jesus in the miracle of Christmas. It is a time for turning the direction of our whole life towards God.

This is no easy task. So often the paths of our lives are anything but straight. As we know, life can take many twists and turns, and we can feel pulled and drawn in so many different directions. Indeed, life today can seem so hectic and fast moving that even finding the time to reflect can seem like a tall order, never mind finding the energy to make big changes. When faced with the challenging call of the Gospel it is tempting to retreat into our comfort zone and just say "leave me alone". The challenge of Christ is to go beyond this comfort zone to find the deeper reality of who we are as children of God. Whatever crooked paths we have walked or are walking, there is always a new beginning with the Lord. We can always begin again.

As Christians we know that we do not do this alone. This is not some kind of self help course for success. We rely at each step on the boundless mercy and grace of God.

The Feast of the Immaculate Conception

Readings: Gen 3:9-15,20; Ps 97:1-4; Eph 1:3-6,11-12.

In 1854, Pope Pius IX defined the Doctrine of the Immaculate Conception in the Apostolic Constitution Ineffabilis Deus. The statement of the doctrine was that from the first instance of her conception, by a singular grace granted by God, Mary was preserved from all stain of original sin. One of the confusions that often arises with regard to the definition of a doctrine is how it can be that the Church can define a dogma with such certainty. To this, we may say that the definition is the culmination of centuries of theological reflection. The Feast of the Immaculate Conception has been celebrated by the Church since at least the ninth century, and the doctrine itself was developed and explained by theologians such as the Franciscan Blessed John Duns Scotus. In Ineffabilis Deus, we see that the doctrine as we now understand it draws on Scripture, and in particular, the understanding of certain passages which we find in today's readings, but also on the Tradition and liturgical practice of the Church.

Someone once remarked to me that they didn't think that the doctrine made any difference to them and their lives. However, when we think about it carefully, we realise that it makes all the difference. A much loved brother of this Province, now deceased, has become famous for saying that without Our Lady we would be 'in a right pickle'! And the Dogma shows us how Mary, being 'full of grace', is the New Eve, who having been preserved from original sin through grace, can utter that fiat which signals her acceptance of God's call to be the mother of Christ. The Dogma thus presents us with the good news that God has heard our cries, and comes to us as man through the obedience of Mary, to get us out of our 'pickle'. Surely this makes all the difference ...

Advent Friday 1 - Healing the blind

Readings: Isaiah 29:17-24; Psalm 26; Matthew 9:27-31

The gospel reading for today portrays Jesus as the great healer. It is one of a series of stories in Saint Matthew which tell of Jesus curing the sick. Here we see him restoring sight to two blind men. In all these stories of healing Jesus is shown to be the one who inaugurates the great age that the prophet Isaiah anticipates: 'In that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book, and out of their gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see' (Isaiah 29:18). Yet the central theme of the reading is not in fact the miraculous or the dramatic healings but rather the issue of faith. In this story the absence of sight is understood not merely in terms of a physical disability, but stands as a symbol of unbelief which is a sort of spiritual blindness.

The two men in the gospel are cured of their blindness because of their faith. 'He touched their eyes saying. "Your faith deserves it, so let this be done for you." And their sight returned.' (Matthew 9:29-30). What sort of faith did these two men have? It is a faith that Jesus praises. It is also a faith that is enthusiastic to share the Good News with others. Yet is their faith completely mature? In their enthusiasm they do not appear to be completely responsive to the will of God. For as soon as they are healed they immediately disobey Jesus. He asks them not to talk about their cure, but instead they spread news of this miracle worker all over the countryside.

Faith is not something we possess fully from the beginning. Rather the Christian life is a journey of faith in which we seek to move ever closer to the Lord by attentively seeking to do his will. Advent is a time when this journey towards God is given particular liturgical expression. It is a special time to deepen our faith so that we might learn to know more completely the God who loves us and so welcome his light and truth into our lives when he comes at Christmas. Saint Ambrose, the fourth century bishop and doctor of the Church, whose feast we celebrate today, prayed: ‘Lord, teach me to seek You, and reveal Yourself to me when I seek You. For I cannot seek you unless You first teach me, nor find You, unless you first reveal yourself to me’.

Advent Thursday 1 - St Nicholas

Readings: Isaiah 26:1-6; Psalm 117; Matthew 7:21, 24-27

Very little is known about this 4th century Bishop of Myra, other than a few pious legends. St Nicholas is famous for his association with children, with Russia and with pawn brokers, of all of whom he is the patron.

In all legends about the saint it is principally his generosity that shines through. But it was a generosity that Nicholas tried to hide as the legends attest. So why is this saint particularly important in Advent?

Saint Nicholas, as is well known, becomes 'Santa Claus' another legendary figure renowned for a gift-giving that prefers to remain hidden. We can relate these legends and traditions to today's gospel reading. Jesus says that it is not those who say 'Lord, Lord' who will enter the kingdom of heaven but those who do the will of his heavenly Father. The wise person, establishing his life on rock, not only listens and repeats the words Jesus teaches but actively puts them into practice.

In the sermon on the mount he says something similar: 'when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you ... but do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing' (Matthew 6:2-3). When the great gift was given to us, the Son of God born at Christmas, it was not with any great show of publicity, not with dramatic deeds or world-shattering events. Quietly, in a remote and ordinary place, 'while gentle silence enveloped all things' (Wisdom 18:14) the Eternal Trinity gave the earth the extraordinary gift of Its own infinite love. All who have come to value this Gift become givers in their turn and, more often than not, prefer to keep their generosity for the eyes of the Heavenly Father who sees in secret.

Advent Talk 1 on Video

This year's first Advent talk, delivered by Br Dominic Colangelo, O.P. on Wednesday night, is now available in a pre-recorded video for readers who cannot join us for our weekly talk, meditation and Compline.

Advent Tuesday 1 - Happy eyes and happy ears

Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72; Luke 10:21-24

‘Happy the eyes that see what you see’

Advent is a season of quiet joy – a time of waiting in confidence. The flicker of light on the Advent wreath symbolises the light that blazes in the darkness of our lives. It is this same joy that Jesus experienced in the Gospel of Luke when he was filled with the joy of the Holy Spirit. So filled, he was moved to exclaim: ‘I bless you Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children.’ What a cause for joy! That we may know the deepest experience of joy as children of God.

I recently encountered a person for whom this text was difficult. A man of great learning, he asked me why God would wish to deprive the learned and the clever from the deepest realities. How could God prejudice any group? Yet he had no cause for fear. There is no shame in great learning, and there is a nobility in searching out the greatest of truths in this way.

But the joy we are waiting for in Advent is not to be found in library catalogues, weighty tomes, or the Google search engine. The things that cause this joy and that enlighten our darkness are given to us children, to whom the Son chooses to reveal them. This is why our eyes are happy and our ears are happy – they see what many have longed to see. Simeon in the Temple was able to attain his rest when he saw that light to enlighten the Gentiles. How many people today spend time at library catalogues (or, once again, on the Google search engine) looking for truth, longing to see what we see, and never seeing it, to hear what we hear, and never hearing it?

Our salvation is at hand, and we await in hope. Our joy in him is great: ‘He took to himself the poverty of my flesh so that I might obtain the riches of his Godhead. He who is full empties himself. He emptied himself of his godhead for a brief time that I might share in his fullness’ (St Gregory Nazianzen).

Advent Monday 1 - Feast of St. Francis Xavier

Readings: Isaiah 4:2-6, Psalm 122, Matthew 8:5-11.

Today is the feast of St. Francis Xavier (1506-1552), the Jesuit missionary who preached the Catholic faith and won many converts in India and Japan in a mission lasting just ten years. His missionary zeal has been described as unmatched since the time of the apostles. He was the first to preach the Catholic faith to the people of Japan.

In the gospel today we see Our Lord meeting the centurion of great faith. As we begin our preparation for Christmas and our eager and joyful expectation of the coming of Emmanuel this gospel teaches us to put our trust in the power of the Lord Jesus to heal us of all our ills. We see Our Lord eager to help the centurion’s servant, not reluctant to enter a place of suffering and sickness. In a similar way God enters into our hearts when we receive his sacred body and blood in holy communion after repeating the words of the centurion “Domine non sum dignus”, “Lord I am not worthy”. Truly, we are not worthy to receive our Lord and saviour but he will come into this world of sin to save us. May we, through the merit gained by the sufferings of St. Francis Xavier, learn to place all our hope for ourselves and for those we love in the Lord who humbled himself to be born as a man.

Advent Sunday 1 - Watch ..

Readings: Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 121; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:37-44

At the beginning of the Church’s year, paradoxically, we’re asked to consider the end. More precisely, our end. God is the home of our longing, the aim of our living, our flourishing. And the point of our living is to become able to respond to his invitation, to ‘go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the Temple of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways so that we may walk in his paths’. Isaiah’s vision of the eschatological fulfilment of Jerusalem looks beyond Jerusalem to humans walking with God once more, living in peace with God and with each other.


Matthew’s parable of vigilance stresses our need to respond to this challenge here and now. He focuses neither on the sins of Noah’s generation nor on Noah’s righteousness but upon the unexpected nature of the cataclysm that overtook the world while people went about their daily business unawares. While emphasising a strong sense of God’s action in history, and expressing the hope that the just will be vindicated, Matthew sets the scene firmly in the present moment. Eschatology spills into ethics, for Christians are to live as if the coming of the Son of Man is imminent, as if we are about to submit to the judgement of Christ. The comparisons about one being taken, one left, also emphasise the eschatological urgency. The men in the fields or the women at the millstone are doing the same tasks and are therefore indistinguishable in human terms, but one will be taken and another left at the coming of the Son of Man, at Christ’s coming in judgement.

We need to wake up, as Paul exhorts the Romans, to realise that we are already living in the last days. Our salvation is at hand, indeed, is upon us, and we must respond to the time in which we live with vigilant conduct; make manifest by our actions that we are living the new life of the kingdom of God. The time of salvation has begun, even if it is not yet fully revealed; but we are to think of the Lord’s patience as our opportunity to be saved.

Advent Talks at Blackfriars

Advent Daily Meditations

As we did during Advent last year, we will post a daily meditation on Godzdogz during Advent this year, beginning on Sunday 2 December. On the first three Wednesdays we will post videos of the weekly Advent talks given by Dominican students at Oxford. The icon shown here will subsequently be added to the sidebar on the right and that will take you to all the posts in the series. We look forward to sharing this quietly joyful season with you, so that we might watch together for the coming of our God.

Godzdogz: Some facts and figures...

The Godzdogz team has now been posting for over a year. The blog was launched on the 7th of November 2006, though things really started to take off with our daily Advent meditations.

In the last year:

• We have posted nearly 250 articles, reflections, news items and answers to your questions, along with many videos.


• The website has received around 110,000 hits.


• The average daily readership now stands at about 400.
  

One of the things that is striking is that our readers come from all over the world. The map above shows something of the typical geographical spread of our readers in any given 5-6 hour period (locations are indicated by the red 'balloons'). Most of our hits come from the United Kingdom and the USA, but we get hits from all around the world. Here is a list of countries our visitors come from, which is not exhaustive ...

... UK, USA, France,

Belgium, The Netherlands,

Spain, Germany, Luxembourg,

Switzerland, Ireland, Sweden, Norway,

Finland, Poland, Hungary, Russia, Latvia, Italy,

The Czech Republic, Lithuania, Portugal, Denmark, Malta,

Greece, Cyprus, Israel, Turkey, Qatar, India, Pakistan,

Sri Lanka, China, Japan, Hong Kong, Singapore,

Malaysia, Indonesia, Taiwan, South Korea,

New Zealand, Australia, Mexico, Belize,

Argentina, Uruguay, Peru, Chile,

Barbados, Jamaica, Grenada,

South Africa, Lesotho...

Coming soon on Godzdogz: more articles on Dominican Saints, answers to your Quodlibet questions, new daily Advent reflections and much more....

Thank you for visiting Godzdogz! If you have any comments, questions, requests or ideas as to how the site might be improved, please email godzdogz@gmail.com

St. Rose of Lima

St. Rose of Lima was born Isabel de Flores on April 20, 1586 in the city of Lima, Peru. One day, her mother and some friends were sitting around the sleeping babe when a rose was seen to hover in the air above her head and descend to kiss her cheek. Her mother was astonished and in her joy promised never again to call her by any name but “Rose”.

When she was only six years old she began a life of mortification: fasting on bread and water alone on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. When she made her first communion and received Our Lord, Rose beheld him in a vision who told her that he would from that day forward sustain her body as well as her soul on the bread of life.

When she reached marriageable age her parents, Gaspar and Maria were terribly distraught when she turned down an offer from a wealthy man as they thought that this would be the answer to the financial problems they had had for many years. They turned on her, bullying her with words and even hitting her in their anger. However, once they realised that her mind was made up they allowed her to follow her conscience.

Rose was not content with commonplace virtue, she knew that to become a saint one must be a man or woman of penance, a victim on the altar of sacrifice. Her only food by this point was the roughest crusts of bread to which she added bitter herbs from her garden. As an imitation of Christ she also daily rinsed her mouth with the gall of a sheep and formed a crown of thorns from some pliable metal which she spiked at various points. When she wore this crown she would cover it with roses from her garden so as to disguise her penance.

Rose considered becoming a cloistered nun but was dissuaded by a heavenly voice which rendered her immovable when she tried to leave the Dominican church. She then realised that she was to be a tertiary and went on to receive the habit, which she wore at all times as was the custom for tertiaries then. Rose felt that she lacked apostolic labours and so convinced her family to allow her some rooms in the house to which she invited poor Native American women who often lived in terrible poverty and were still unconverted. Here she would tend to their spiritual as well as their physical needs

Before her death she experienced the dark night of the soul where she felt terrible despair and was beset by demonic forces. Through this, however, she was guided by Our Lord, Our Lady, St. Catherine and her guardian angel. Rose was miraculously granted knowledge of the time of her death, having been made aware that she would not live to see her 32nd year. Her last words were: “Jesus, Jesus, be with me.” After her death there were innumerable cures and a great change for the better throughout Latin America. In 1671 she was proclaimed a saint by Pope Clement IX and made special advocate of the Western hemisphere. She was the first saint of the Americas and is patroness of the whole of the Americas, as well as the Philippines.

In our time the life of St. Rose is particularly instructive. She was a lay woman who demonstrated how one can live in the world and do a great deal of apostolic work and yet still remain deeply contemplative. In this respect her life embodies the balance of the Dominican vocation to be a contemplative who ventures out to preach and to save souls. Her penance teaches us not to be attached to worldy things and her love for the Blessed Sacrament shows us that it is only by the strength we receive from Christ through his Church that we can do any good in this world.

Angelicum video

Blackfriars Studium is the House of Studies of the English Dominicans and most of the Dominican students in Oxford are studying for the STB (Baccalaureate in Sacred Theology) granted by the Pontifical University of St Thomas, Rome (the Angelicum), which is a Domincan-run institution. It is also possible for lay men and women to begin the Angelicum's STB programme by studying in the Blackfriars Studium and to conclude the programme with at least a year's full-time study in Rome.

If you're interested in the work of the Angelicum or want a taste of what it is like to study there, do take a look at this video.

For more information on the Angelicum STB at Blackfriars, Oxford, click here.

Thanksgiving at Blackfriars

Godzdogz wishes all our American readers and friends a happy and blessed Thanksgiving!

fr Geoffrey Preston, O.P. (1936 - 1977)

Geoffrey Preston was was born in Winsford, Cheshire, where his grandmother lived, on 24 February 1936. He grew up in Beeston Castle where his father was the local blacksmith, as his grandfather had also been before him, and he was steeped in the Methodist tradition of his forebears. As Aidan Nichols OP, who was one of his novices, has written: "To this element in his upbringing belong his sense of the transcendence of God and his feeling for the local congregation as fully the church in its own place, as well as his love for the Bible and his extraordinary inwardness in getting beneath the skin of the scriptural text." He is also remembered for his love of Wesleyan hymns "though his rendering of them resembled a cow roaring"!

After attendance at the local grammar school and two years of national service with the Royal Air Force, he went up to read History at Durham University where he was active in various societies, a prize-winning debater, and "most improbably for a man of his physical proportions, the Tennis Club." Geoffrey was a voracious reader with "a delight in information on matters common and out-of-the-way alike" and his cell was crammed full of books on every conceivable subject, many "rescued" from second hand bookshops, and from his books he gleaned a collection of quotations which he used in his preaching and writing. It is said that "he never read without a pencil beside him, even in works of fiction". Eventually his treasury of books would became the nucleus of the Geoffrey Preston Library of the Catholic Chaplaincy at Leicester University, for he had been prior of Holy Cross, Leicester from 1976 until his premature death.

Nichols recounts how Geoffrey's encounter with Anglo-Catholicism confirmed his "horror of the demonstrative in religion though he saw good ritual as avoiding just such inauthentic over-statement". And so, Geoffrey converted to Catholicism via the Church of England in 1958. He spent a year teaching history in Blackpool before joining the Order where his desire "to get as deeply as possible into a living and articulate theological culture" was fed and in the Order his "zest for knowledge and a call to communicate to others" was fulfilled. He made profession on 28 September 1962 and was ordained priest on 15 July 1967.

Geoffrey lived as a religious in a time of great change for the Church and the question 'Where is God to be found?' would shape his response. According to Nichols, Geoffrey realised that "the clues to [God's] presence could only be uncovered in some rapport with the liturgical, spiritual and theological tradition which linked the church now with the time of Jesus and his disciples". Nevertheless, the process of finding God in a time when old certainties were called into question, and a traditional form of religious life was being re-evaluated, was one of interior suffering for Fr Geoffrey. From this suffering "issued a striking ministry of teaching and preaching and pastoral care. His gifts as a liturgist, a man of ritual, were out of the ordinary. He had a facility for combining the intimate with the solemn which made it thankfully impossible to claim him as either a progressive or a traditionalist" and this was a great gift indeed in a time of considerable polarisation. Thus, he was a pastor able to carry the burdens of God's people, whether they were impatient for change or distressed by it. These were certainly useful skills for someone who was appointed Master of Novices in 1970 and again in 1974 but he eventually resigned the position, though not without pain.

Fr Geoffrey's "theological and spiritual balance" which his novices appreciated seems to have had deep roots in a constant rumination of the Scriptures. According to one enclosed Carmelite, "one could feel that here was a man speaking of what he knew, and what he knew not 'through flesh and blood or through the will of man' but through the grace of the Father".

Preparing for a summer preaching tour of South Africa and on the eve of submitting a collection of writings to a publisher (edited posthumously for publication by Aidan Nichols OP), Geoffrey collapsed in Hawkesyard Priory, Staffordshire (where he is buried), and was diagnosed with gall-bladder problems but the surgeons could not operate immediately because of his size. As Nichols remembers, Geoffrey took communion to the sick "by bicycle... daily and perilously, for his girth had by now reached Falstaffian dimensions." He subsequently died, aged 41, of a heart attack with his brethren by his bedside; a death which might be regarded "not so much tragic as the plucking of ripened fruit."

How might we remember this "enormous, bovine, cheerful, inquisitive and childlike man"? Perhaps we can judge for ourselves from the three books which were published after his death. So many of his brethren and friends remember him with fondness and deep affection as a "generous and compassionate" pastor and Fr Nichols' biographical sketch exudes a certain devotion towards his former Novice Master. Indeed, the Province's obituary notices says that he was "foremost a preacher whose life and words he let be shaped by God and speak of God", a phrase used of our holy father Dominic himself. But the most memorable image we have is one offered by one of the brethren who remembers Geoffrey Preston as "that great mass of a man in a slightly grubby cream serge Dominican habit, occupying an armchair with the air of a beached whale, a rosary in his fingers and the Authorised Version of the Bible on his tummy."

May he thus repose eternally in the bosom of the Lord whom he loved and served so well.

Quodlibet 7: Is priesthood a higher, better, more spiritual calling than marriage?

Essentially it is not good to start considering the sacraments in terms of a hierarchical order: each of them has its particular role and function in the life of the Church. The seven sacraments touch the important moments in the Christian life, and this reflects a resemblance between the stages of natural life and the stages of spiritual life.

The sacraments of Holy Orders and Matrimony are directed towards the salvation of others, and so if they contribute towards personal salvation also, they do so through service to others - the priest in his service of the faithful, and the married person in the service of their spouse.

Through these sacraments, those who have already been consecrated by Baptism and Confirmation for the common priesthood of all the faithful receive particular consecrations. Those who receive the sacrament of Holy Orders are consecrated in the name of Christ to feed the Church with the word and grace of God. Those who are married are consecrated for the duties and dignity of their state by a special sacrament.

Ordination is not therefore a higher, better, or more spiritual calling than marriage. Nor, indeed, could the reverse be argued. Both are sacraments for the channelling of God's grace to all those who require it.

New Vocations Poster

“God Writes Straight with Crooked Lines”

Almost a decade ago, I was undertaking a pre-seminary year in a parish in west Yorkshire, as a part of my training for the diocesan priesthood. One Sunday in the sacristy before Mass, a teenage server who occasionally served at the Dominican parish in Leicester told my parish priest that he wanted to be a Dominican. I had never heard of them, and when my parish priest told the lad that he had to be very clever to become a Dominican, I wondered who these Dominicans thought they were. After all, I said to my parish priest later (and not wanting to lose out to these unknown Dominicans), even a diocesan priest has to be rather clever!

So began God’s way of writing straight with crooked lines in my life.

My next encounter with the Dominicans came in the form of a statue of St Dominic which I saw in the window of the CTS bookshop in Newcastle. I thought it was a statue of a Benedictine monk contemplating the Scriptures, and as I had (my brethren will say, have) a rather romantic view of religious life, I bought the statue as a reminder of what I then felt was the religious calling I had given up in order to serve the Catholic people of the north. I remember taking that statue to the counter, and when the saleswoman told me that a statue of St Dominic was a rather rare thing, I wondered again, who is this Dominic. I bought the statue anyway because, I told myself, it looks like a monk reading and that was what I intended it to be!

As I progressed in my theological training, I developed a fascination for Aquinas, whom I had heard about but had little opportunity to study in the seminary. As he seemed like ‘forbidden fruit’, I endeavoured to read parts of the Summa theologiae, although I was slightly daunted by the Scholastic language and style. Nevertheless I had no lasting impression that this saintly doctor of the Church was a Dominican.

After three years in the seminary, I left in search of something more fulfilling. One night, sitting in a presbytery in north Yorkshire, and having prayed for weeks for direction from God, I started typing the names of various religious orders into the computer. Racking my memory for every order I could think of, I recalled that day in the sacristy, and typed ‘Dominicans’. As I did so, I thought I probably wasn’t clever enough, but as I started reading the vocations page of the English Dominican site, I actually felt this inner warmth and excitement as I recognised the family to which God had been calling me all these years. And He had left these unexpected little signs along the way, from the first sighting I had of St Catherine’s head-relic while on holiday with my family in Siena to the statue of St Dominic in my room in front of which I used to light candles.

That Easter, I went on retreat to a Benedictine abbey to discern if I was called to share their life, but, while I was there I started reading every Dominican-authored book I could find in the library. It was a period of intense discovery and prayer as I began to wonder if I might actually be called to become a Dominican. Many of Timothy Radcliffe’s letters as Master inspired me and towards the end of my time in the abbey, I felt that God was certainly asking me to try my vocation as a Dominican. As if in confirmation, that evening when I came down to Vespers, in processed a white-habited Dominican along with the Benedictines.

I initiated a series of visits to various Dominican houses and discovered the joy, prayerfulness and intellectual stimulation of our life, and after a year ‘on mission’ as a lay Dominican Volunteer in the Philippines, I entered the novitiate in Cambridge. God still writes with crooked lines, but He also continues to deepen my love for the vocation He has given me among this band of preaching brothers and I thank Him daily for the “grace of a Dominican vocation”.

Br Lawrence Lew is a second-year student.

fr Sebastian Bullough, O.P. (1910 - 1967)

Born in Cambridge on 17 May 1910 to parents who were both to become lay Dominicans, Fr Sebastian was baptised Halley Edward. His father, Edward Bullough, was a professor of German at Cambridge University and his mother, Enrichetta Marchetti was the only child of the Italian actress, Eleanora Duse.

To be precise about his baptism, Halley (undoubtedly named after the comet) had in fact first been baptised in Little St Mary's, an Anglican church in Cambridge. But when his mother rediscovered her Catholic faith, she took him to the Catholic church in Cambridge and had him conditionally baptised again and gave him the names Hugh Dominic!

Hugh Dominic subsequently received a Dominican education at the English Dominicans' schools at Hawkesyard and Laxton. His father had converted to Catholicism in 1923 and, together with his mother, were active in the promotion of the faith. Given this background and the active Catholic life led by his parents, "Halley Bullough stood little chance to escape." He joined the Order in 1931 and entered the Province's novitiate at Woodchester.

Meanwhile, his parents began to build a fine Italianate house in Cambridge (shown in the photo below) which was dedicated to St Michael, but sadly, Professor Bullough's unexpected death from septicaemia in 1937 meant that he never saw the completion of his house, nor did Mrs Bullough inhabit it for long. In 1938, upon completion of the house, she bequeathed it to the English Dominican friars. This outstanding generosity crowned the gift of her two children to the Order, for Br Sebastian - as he was now called in the Order - had been joined by his sister Leonora who became Sr Mary Mark of the English Dominican Sisters at Stone.

Fr Sebastian was ordained on 22 July 1937 and assigned to the new priory of Cambridge where he could care for his mother who lived close by the house. He began his studies in Hebrew and Aramaic at the university rather than in Jerusalem, as was initially intended and after two years of further study in Rome, he was sent to teach at Laxton. He also served as prior at Woodchester, and taught in Blackfriars Oxford and finally from 1960, at the Cambridge faculty of Oriental Languages. Thus he returned to his roots where his mother died in 1961.

Fr Sebastian was a noted Biblical scholar who had a "passion to integrate Scripture as completely as possible with the Catholic organism", such that references in Scripture could give rise to footnotes on Roman basilicas or articles in the Penny Catechism and his Advent meditations frequently connected Scriptural texts with a rumination on plainsong melodies. His concern for Scripture as the inspiration for all things Catholic anticipated in many ways the Vatican II document 'Dei Verbum'. He was a member of the committee of the Society for Old Testament Studies and chairman of the Catholic Biblical Association. He was also vice-president of the Latin Mass Society, and the changes in the Church's liturgy in the wake of Vatican II saddened him.

He died on 30 July 1967 at the Dominican sisters' convent in Stone and was buried at Cambridge according to the Dominican rite so beloved by him. His Requiem was celebrated by the bishop of Nottingham according to the "full Latin liturgy of the Mass".

In his last book, 'Roman Catholicism', written in 1963, Fr Sebastian said that Dominicans "were to combine the secluded monastic life of the monk, including the Divine Office in choir, with the priestly work of the canon regular and the independent poverty of the itinerant preacher, free to be assigned anywhere in the Order." His understanding of our life remains true today, but in 1967 - the year of his death - he made an observation about the importance of contemplative prayer and choral office in the authentic Dominican life: "[St Dominic] founded a monastic Order whose members are, so to speak, 'preaching monks', from which it follows that monastic life is of the essence of the Order." In many ways, his spirit and ideals live on in our Cambridge priory, the house which owes its existence to the generosity of the Bulloughs.

Forty years after his death, Fr Sebastian's words continue to remind us that Dominican should be preachers of a word that has been prayerfully contemplated in humility, in silence and in assiduous study. Or as the Preaching Commission to the General Chapter at Krakow said in 2004: "In this world we will have something to say, but only if it is a word for which we have suffered, a word we have fought for, and a word for which we have prayed."

In remembering his 40th anniversary, we recall his wisdom, we ponder the fruit of his contemplation, and we give thanks for his example.

November Days

Nature parades the last of her autumn splendour but will soon be completely stripped for the winter months ahead. It is a dead time, the fag-end of the year, short evenings and cold mornings, days neither wet nor dry, the sun trying to break through. ‘The end is nigh’, we might be tempted to cry, as nature retreats underground.

This dead month of November is the month of the dead. Remembrance Sunday comes with its quiet solemnity, its sad memories of young lives cut short, the tragic waste of human life that the last century saw (and that, sadly, continues). At Mass all this month we remember the dead, all those we have loved, young and old. Some died in the fullness of their years, others before their lives were fully underway. We remember all who have gone before us, parents, children and friends whom we continue to mourn and whom we continue to miss.

On the banks of the river Boyne in county Meath stands a structure older than the pyramids. The passage grave or tumulus at Newgrange was constructed some five thousand years ago. Its builders seem to have been preoccupied with winter and with death. Above the entrance to the passage there is a small opening through which the sun shines on the morning of 21 December, its rays penetrating some fifty feet to the inner chamber where the ashes of the dead were kept. It is an extraordinary construction that required painstaking and precise work and nobody knows for sure what it means.

At Newgrange the mid-winter sun reached — and still reaches — deep within the earth to illuminate the place of the dead. Because of this some think it is a very ancient expression of hope in an after life. In the moment when the northern hemisphere is at its lowest point these primitive but sophisticated people looked, it seems, to the return of the sun, to a light illuminating the winter darkness, to some way in which the life-giving rays of the sun might reach the place of the dead.

We stand on firmer ground when we read the Book of Daniel, written a century and a half before the birth of Christ. It contains the first clear enunciation in the Bible of belief in the resurrection of the dead. ‘Those who lie sleeping will awake’, it says, the just to receive the reward of ‘everlasting life’ (Daniel 12.2). It is also the first time that the phrase ‘everlasting life’ occurs in the Bible. Those who have taught others goodness and virtue will ‘shine like stars for all eternity’. This is quite a change from the grey and mouldy Hades of which the earlier Hebrews spoke, a place of ghosts, neither alive nor dead, an in-between place not reached by God’s light and from which God is not praised.

The firmest ground of all is the Christian hope in the resurrection of the dead founded on the resurrection of Jesus Christ. In one of the earliest New Testament texts to witness to this hope Saint Paul says ‘we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and that it will be the same for those who have died in Jesus: God will bring them with him’ (1 Thessalonians 4.14).

There is an end time to which we look forward which will not be a November end, nor a winter time of mourning and tears. Even in these dog days of the year’s decline we look forward to an eternal spring in which all that has been sown in tears will be reaped in joy. Much has been wasted, much has been left unfinished, much has already been surrendered to death. But nothing is lost because Jesus Christ ‘has offered one single sacrifice for sins and then taken his place forever at the right hand of God’ (Hebrews 10.12). When the Son of Man comes in power and glory he will send out his angels ‘to gather his chosen from the four winds’ (Mark 13.26-17).

For the present we wait as we protect ourselves from the wintry chill. In many churches a ‘Book of the Dead’ is placed on the altar and left there throughout November. We hope that all whose names are entered in such books — together with all our deceased relatives and friends — also have their names inscribed in the Lord’s ‘book of life’ (Daniel 12.1). We pray that their good deeds have gone with them and that when winter has passed they will shine like stars for ever and ever (Daniel 12.3).

A Dominican Vocation

Whilst I have always been a Catholic, for most of my life I had great difficulty in seeing myself as the sort of person who could become a priest. I decided my true calling was to be a mathematician, so I duly went off to Cambridge to study mathematics.

It was whilst finishing my PhD in Cambridge that I spent 9 months living in the Dominican lay community. The lay community consisted of about six lay students living alongside six Dominican friars and sharing in their prayer life. I really enjoyed life there, and the thought did occur to me that maybe I could become a Dominican. But I hesitated. There were so many other things I wanted to do. Religious life would be fine if only I could pick and choose the bits I liked and reject the bits I didn’t. So instead I got a job as a software engineer in Somerset. Maybe there I could settle down, buy a house and have a family.

Two years into my job, I was listening to the radio and a journalist was saying that there was a crisis in religious vocations. I wondered whether there really was a crisis. Maybe there was only if people like myself didn’t respond to God’s call. Maybe God was calling me but I just wasn’t listening. So over the next few days I listened. It was only then I really started to understand how much God loved me and how much I loved God. I didn’t need to get married to be a complete person. My faith in Jesus Christ made me a complete person. For the first time in my life, becoming a priest was something I really wanted to do.

At this stage I didn’t know what sort of priest I should become, so I got in touch with Worth Abbey which runs a religious discernment programme. Over the next year, I went to Worth Abbey once a month. This really helped me discover how I could best serve God, and I soon started to look at the Dominicans. It wasn’t just that I enjoyed living with Dominicans, but I really believed in their mission statement – preaching for the salvation of souls. Being a fairly shy person, the thought of being in the Order of Preachers was fairly daunting, but I felt I didn’t have to rely on my own strength – God would give me the strength to do His will.

So here I am, in the Order of Preachers, confident that God will give me the grace to live out my Dominican vocation.

Br. Robert Verrill is a first year student

Not fanaticism but radical love

"Peter began to say to him, "Lo, we have left everything and followed you." Jesus said, "Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life." - Mark 10:28-30

Fr Peter Hunter OP preached at Mass for the feast of All Saints of the Dominican order (7 November) and the Gospel appointed for the feast is that given above. The homily inspired his hearers and we hope that it will give Godzdogz readers an appreciation of our life and hopes.

Fr Bob Ombres once told me a story of travelling in his native Naples. He was talking to a man who told him he was a Catholic. Fr Ombres expressed interest and asked the man where he went to church. Puzzled, the man replied, “Cattolico, non fanatico!”

Yet, religious life can seem in today’s world like fanaticism, a wide-eyed pursuit of an ideal, giving up all sorts of important things in this pursuit. Jesus, in the Gospel appointed for today’s feast (Mark 10:28-30) talks about leaving family and property for his sake and for the Gospel. Isn’t that rather fanatical?

The same Fr Ombres said to me when he heard that I had made the decision to make final vows in the Order, “I’m so glad! If you really throw yourself into it, the life will make you very happy.” But can this kind of wide-eyed pursuit, this kind of fanaticism, make you happy?

The feast we celebrate today, the feast of All Saints of the Order of Preachers, is our more parochial version of the universal Church’s celebration of All Saints. That it makes sense to celebrate it at all is confirmation that the Dominican way of life is rich enough and wide enough to be a way of holiness. That is to say, it says that after all, the Dominican way of life is a way to be happy.

What is this way of life? Our Order is dedicated to the study and preaching of the truth of the Gospel. And when we characterise it like that, we see that commitment to this life cannot be fanatical. It cannot be fanatical because it is, we now see, not a wide-eyed pursuit of an ideal, but based on the love of a person. Loving the truth of the Gospel is ultimately nothing other than loving Jesus. The Dominican saints, no less than the apostles, leave family and property not for an ideal, but out of love for the Son of God. This means that this following, while radical, is not fanatical but reasonable and human.

An early Dominican expressed a worry (perhaps a tongue-in-cheek one) that the life gave him so much joy and hence could not be a way to heaven for him. But it was for him, and it is for us, if we give ourselves to it freely and fully. We can celebrate today that our way of life turns out to be rich enough, broad enough, to be a way to heaven and rededicate ourselves to living that life properly. In doing that, we leave behind things which we rightly love, not out of a wide-eyed fanaticism, but because we love Christ more.

Remember, remember...

On 2 November, the Master of Ceremonies at Blackfriars, Oxford puts up a notice saying: "Remember, remember the second of November". This, of course, is an allusion to the chant sung by English children in the run up to Guy Fawkes' day which falls on the fifth of November. But what are we friars asked to remember on the 2 November?

We are reminded to don the black cappa of the Order for Mass and the major offices:


November is a month for remembering, for calling to mind those holy souls who rejoice in heaven (All Saints' Day) and those who undergo purgation (All Souls' Day). In addition to these feasts of the universal Church, Dominicans also celebrate their own feasts, All Saints of the Order of Preachers on 7 November and Commemoration of our Deceased Brothers and Sisters on 8 November.


As this is a month for remembering the dead, Godzdogz will be recalling the lives of deceased English Dominicans. Watch this space.