Celebrating Priesthood - Dom John Lane Fox OSB

One of the things Godzdogz is doing to mark the Year for Priests is a series on priests who have inspired various Dominican friars in our Province. As it is the Year for Priests, we've decided to ask not just the Dominican student-brothers but also our brothers who are priests about those priests - both real and fictional, as found in art, literature and cinema - who have inspired and influenced them and their priestly vocation.

The following reflection, which begins this series, is from fr Timothy Radcliffe OP, who was the 84th successor of St Dominic as Master of the Order, and who is currently a member of the Oxford community.

"The priest who baptised me, heard my first confession and gave me my first communion was my great uncle, Dom John Lane Fox. He was a monk of Fort Augustus, which had been founded by his father and his uncle to evangelise the Highlands of Scotland, and most of the first monks were his relations!

He was a tall gaunt figure, and had lost an eye and most the fingers of his right hand during First World War, when he was a chaplain. What struck me as a child, was his irrepressible sense of fun. One could see that religious life and the priesthood did not dehumanise one. I sensed that his vitality came from his faith. He had a relaxed attitude to rules, and considered that duck should be eaten on Friday. He enjoyed his claret, and used to return to the monastery with lots of bottles given by my father clunking his suitcase.

He was an important source of my own vocation. Recently I discovered that in the Great War he had been utterly loved by the soldiers because of his courage. Every night he would cross over into No man's land, between the opposing trenches, and look for the wounded, to anoint them and to carry them home and to bury the dead. No one believed that he could last a week. He went over the trenches with the men to give them the last rites if necessary. He was forbidden by the Generals to do this, but his love for those in his care overrode an obedience to rules. The soldiers gave him a chalice engraved with all the battles in which he participated, which he gave to me. He died at the age of 95, a man still filled with joy."

Saints This Month - 28 October, SS Simon and Jude

It’s hard to know what to make of Simon and Jude, the two Apostles whose feast we celebrate today. Of all the Apostles, these two are probably the least well known. Today’s Gospel - as well as the other Gospel accounts describing the calling of the twelve - seem concerned to identify Simon and Jude, not so much in terms of who they are, but in terms of who they are not. It’s not normal to refer to people in this way, and I can’t help but wonder how the brethren would react if I were to start referring to them as ‘not Robert De Niro’, ‘not Richard the Lionheart’ or ‘not Benjamin Britten’. But that seems to be just the kind of thing that is going on in the Gospel accounts of the naming of the twelve. Luke calls Simon the Zealot, which is probably a reference to his past life as a member of the Jewish sect. But his title might as well be ‘Simon the ordinary one’, because it’s pretty clear that the title “zealot” is only there to distinguish him from Simon Peter, whom we might call ‘Simon, the important one’. In a similar way, we have Judas, or Jude, who is described as the son of James, presumably to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot, or perhaps ‘Judas the notorious one’.

These distinctions are almost all that the four Gospels have to say about our two apostles. Simon has no special part to play. He’s important enough to be named, but that’s it. Jude is rather like an extra in a play – in John’s Gospel he has a walk on part and a single line at the last supper, and no more. Ordinary, everyday people, it seems. But, there is a lot to be said for being ordinary, for being the anonymous one, the silent one. Still waters, it is said, run deep. And this is certainly the case for Saints Simon and Jude. Tradition holds that both men worked hard at preaching the Gospel. It’s claimed that Simon preached in Egypt, and then later followed Jude on a mission to the people of Mesopotamia and Persia, where they were both martyred. That ordinariness was built on by the grace of God, and they showed themselves to be extraordinary in their love for Christ, and in their willingness to die for him. They were small yet vital stones in the foundation of the Apostles that Paul describes in the letter to the Ephesians. They were linked to Christ the cornerstone and inseparable from him.

Simon and Jude stand as an important example to us too – an example of that gentle, quiet, yet profound faith which can preach so eloquently of the power of God. It isn’t necessary to be a big fish to follow Christ. What is important is that we follow his way for us, and allow him to work on us so that his way becomes our way. In fact, if we make too much of a fuss, we might end up being well known for all the wrong reasons – and then there is a danger of being known as, say, ‘Andrew the arrogant’, or ‘Ian the impossible’. And no one wants that. We shouldn’t be afraid to be ordinary, simple, quiet, outwardly unspectacular servants of the Lord. Because only God knows what the fruits of such a life will be.

This is the homily preached by fr Robert Gay OP at the Conventual Mass in Blackfriars on the feast of SS Simon and Jude

Beware the Litanies of the Dominicans!

On the twenty-first of February 2009 an email was circulated from Father Augustine Di Noia OP, then under-secretary of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, asking all Dominicans to pray the Litany of Dominican Saints from February 22 (the Feast of the Chair of St Peter) through March 25 (the Solemnity of the Annunciation) for an at-the-time undisclosed intention. On the twenty-first of October this email was sent by Archbishop Di Noia (as he is now):

Today there was announced -- at press conferences in Rome and London -- the forthcoming publication of an apostolic constitution in which the Holy Father allows for the creation of personal ordinariates for groups of Anglicans in different parts of the world who are seeking full communion with the Catholic Church. The canonical structure of the personal ordinariate will permit this corporate reunion while at the same time providing for retention of elements of Anglican liturgy and spirituality.

When I asked the members of the Dominican family to pray the Dominican litany from 22 February to 25 March earlier this year, the intention was that this proposal would receive the approval of the cardinal members of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith which was necessary if the proposal of some structure allowing for corporate reunion was to go forward. Our prayers at that time were answered, and now that the proposal has become a reality we can tell everyone what we were praying for then.

Fraternally,
+Abp. J Augustine Di Noia, OP

This is not the first time that the Dominican Litany of the Saints has proved a powerful prayer. In 1254 the Order came into conflict with Pope Innocent IV, after it would not give up the Priory in Genoa for the Pope's family to build a fortress on the site. The Pope was angered by the perceived ingratitude of the Order, as he had defended it against attacks from certain members of the secular clergy of the time and had entrusted it with missions to the Mongols. Encouraged by some anti-mendicant Cardinals, the Pope began to restrict the work of the Order in France, including removing friars from the University of Paris. Fearing the suppression of the entire Order, the friars began to pray the litany for the protection of the Order and its work.

On November 21, 1254, Innocent IV signed a decree rescinding all the privileges of the Order of Preachers, and instead forbidding all Dominicans to receive any lay person in their churches on Sundays and holidays, to preach in their churches on other days before the Solemn Mass in the local diocesan parish church, to preach in an episcopal town if the bishop was to preach there that day, or to hear anyone's confession without the permission of the penitent's pastor.

On that same day, one of the Cardinals, who had been instrumental in the formation of the decree and sought further restrictions, fell down some stairs and died of his injuries. That night Pope Innocent IV suffered a stroke and was paralysed. He died sixteen day later and was succeeded by Alexander IV, who on December 24, the 38th anniversary of the Order's approval by Honorius III, removed all of the restrictions on the Order.

The Friars had been obedient to the Pontiff throughout this trial, yet they put their faith in the Lord and continued to pray the litany. The rather sudden demise of their opponents and the fast reversal of policy, led to the emergence of the following expression: "Beware the Litanies of the Dominicans!" The Litany is recommended as a Novena in especially critical circumstances and can be found here.

Oxford Martyrs' Mass at Blackfriars

For the past few years, the Latin Mass Society has organised a High Mass and Procession in memory of those Oxford men who gave their lives for the Catholic faith during the English Reformation and Recusancy period. Last year, Bishop William Kenney CP blessed a plaque at the end of Holywell Street to commemorate their sacrifice, and the liturgies took place in Blackfriars for the first time.

This year saw another first, as the Prior of Blackfriars, fr Simon Gaine OP celebrated the High Mass in the Extraordinary Form on 24 October 2009. He was assisted by fr Richard Conrad OP as deacon, and fr Lawrence Lew OP as sub-deacon. Once again, the team of servers was drawn from the Dominican studentate.

fr Richard Ounsworth OP preached during the Mass and he likened the martyrs to moths who were irresistibly drawn to the light of Christ, and consumed by the fire of the Holy Spirit. Through their death by pyre, gallows and smoke, the martyrs' participated in the one great sacrifice of Christ. We too participate in that sacrifice whenever we celebrate the Mass, and, moth-like, are drawn by the light of Christ and offer ourselves to be consumed by the fire of the Holy Spirit.

During the Mass, the choir, which included students from Blackfriars Hall, sang music by William Byrd, who was himself a recusant Catholic. His 4-part Mass was sung in clandestine Masses during the times of the martyrs we were commemorating, and the words of the motet, 'Ne irascaris Domine', which was also sung during the Mass, had a particular poignancy for recusant Catholics in Elizabethan England:

"Be not angry, O Lord,
and remember our iniquity no more.
Behold, we are all your people.

Your holy city has become a wilderness.
Zion has become a wilderness,
Jerusalem has been made desolate."

The public celebration of this older form of the Roman rite, which the martyrs may once have celebrated in secret, was an appropriate way to honour the Oxford martyrs and to thank God for their faithful witness and example of perseverance in the face of trials and great suffering. May the graces which God gave them be ours too.

The deacon sings the Gospel from Luke 21:9-19:
"You will be delivered up even by parents and brothers and kinsmen and friends, and some of you they will put to death; you will be hated by all for my name's sake. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your lives".

"Now is the judgment of this world, now shall the ruler of this world be cast out; and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself" - John 12:31-32.

The deacon and sub-deacon exchange the sign of peace, which comes from Christ truly present on the Altar. Thus, we can say with St Paul, that Christ makes peace "by the blood of his cross" (Colossians 1:20).

Holy Communion is first given to the those ministering around the Altar.

The Prior imparts the blessing at the end of Mass.

The 'Salve Regina' is sung as the ministers leave the Choir.

Photos used with kind permission of Dr Joseph Shaw, and videos of the Mass are online at the Schola Beati Thomae Abelis blog.

Godzdogz Team 2009-10

The Godzdogz team for the current academic year (l. to r.) Brothers Gregory Pearson, David Barrins (Province of Ireland), Graham Hunt, Nicholas Crowe, Frank Everszumrode (Province of Teutonia [Northern Germany]), Robert Gay, Mark Davoren, Robert Verrill, Daniel Jeffries, Vivian Boland (Master of Students) and Lawrence Lew.

We are looking forward to keeping you informed and perhaps even inspired over the course of the next few months. Please pray for us as we will pray for you.

A Dominican Vocation Story

I was brought up as a Catholic but like so many people drifted away from the faith when I left home. Initially sheer laziness was to blame, but over time I simply stopped believing.

A second year lecture course at University shook me out of my complacency. For the first time I began to critically examine the assumptions on which I based my life and an uncomfortable thought lodged itself in the back of my mind: Why lead a good life? Why not lead a bad one? It occurred to me that if God did not exist then, to borrow an idea from Dostoyevsky, everything is permitted. If God did not exist, then the morality society presented seemed to me to be just someone else’s opinion, an opinion that I was free to reject. This got me thinking: How should I live? And beyond that I found a deeper question: What do I want?

Fortunately I was at this time living with some Christians. Through a combination of their embodiment of gospel values and my own thought and reflection I slowly realized that deep down what I really wanted was to love, to love people but also (to my surprise) to love God. I realized that I had been lying to myself and that in fact I did believe. I uncovered a craving for a relationship with Christ, but all I seemed to have at this time was a cold intellectual assent to the ‘God hypothesis’ and a sense of incompleteness. On the advice of my Christian friends I began to pray for faith. For nine months I prayed the rosary everyday: nothing happened. I was beginning to get frustrated when someone suggested that what I really needed was a retreat so I booked myself in for a young adults weekend at Worth Abbey.

That weekend at Worth had a profound effect on me. I was deeply impressed by the monks, by the totality of their commitment to Christ, by the peace and stillness of their monastery. Towards the end of the retreat I went to confession and after I received absolution something inside me changed. My abstract belief in God moved from my head to my heart and became a living faith.

From this point onwards I was seriously entertaining the prospect of joining a religious order. Initially I was drawn to monasticism and after graduating from university I joined a lay Benedictine community in Brighton for a year with a view to perhaps entering a monastery at the end of it. However, over the course of that year the many pastoral projects that I became involved in demonstrated that, for me at least, God was to be found in engaging with the world rather than fleeing from it. A monastic vocation is a beautiful gift, but it was not the gift that God was offering me.

I turned my attention to the Dominicans whom I had met as a student and whose spirituality seemed to be an attractive blend of prayer, community life, study, and mission. I visited some of the priories in England and felt at home. This encouraged me to talk seriously with the vocations director about joining the Order. He suggested that I spend some time living and working as a volunteer in a Dominican house in the Philippines to try and absorb something of the spirit of the institution. Here I grew to love the Order and I returned to England bursting with enthusiasm and eager to sign up. The English Province accepted my application, and I was clothed in the habit in September 2008. So far I have been very happy, I pray that God will give me the grace to continue in this life to final vows and beyond.

Br Nicholas Crowe OP

Saints This Month - 17 October: St. John the Dwarf

John Kolobos or John the Dwarf is one of the legendary desert fathers. As a young man he decided to go to the monastic wilderness of Skete, in Egypt, to live a life of prayer and toil. He was assigned to the saintly hermit Pambo. He was given a walking stick and St. Pambo ordered him to plant it and water it everyday. John followed his instructions and watered the stick every day for three years even though the river was 12 miles away. After three years of this bizarre exercise of obedience buds began to appear on the stick. Over the year leaves and finally fruit began to appear. His mentor picked the fruit and offered it to John saying "eat the fruit of obedience".

John now lived a life of solitude and prayer but his holiness became known and, as so often happens with these holy hermits, men came to follow his way of life. A monastery began to form around St. John's Tree of Obedience. Even the Patriarch of Alexandria, Theophilus, came to see this "angel on earth" and the community that had developed around him. The Patriarch ordained him a priest and made him abbot.

Abba John had to leave the monastery in 395 AD after Berber raiders attacked Skete. He led his monks across the Nile to where St. Antony had resided and continued a life of prayer and contemplation. On his rare visits to the nearby villages he worked many miracle and brought many to Christ.

As he neared the end of his life his disciples asked for a final lesson. This spiritual giant sighed and said " I never followed my own will; nor did I teach another what I had not practised myself". He died soon after and his soul was seen carried to Heaven by angels. In 515 his monks were able to return to the original monastery and brought his body with them. The monastery was abandoned in the 17th century but the Tree of Obedience still stands in the deserted monastery of St. John in the Nitrian desert and is still venerated by the Copts.

Academic Mass - 12 October 2009

The academic year at Blackfriars began with a votive Mass of the Holy Spirit and Vespers. It is very apt to begin the year by asking the Holy Spirit to fill us with wisdom and understanding, to enlighten our minds and to aid our studies in the year to come. It is also a good opportunity for the new students to meet each other and the friars. In his homily, the Regent of Studies, fr Richard Finn, pointed out that the close proximity of the church and the library at Blackfriars is no coincidence since the practice of religion and academic study are closely linked and complementary as they all point to the truth and to Truth itself.

Raised to the Altars

On Sunday the Holy Father canonised five new Saints: Father Damien of Hawaii; Zygmunt Szcezesny Felinski, a polish Bishop; Sister Jeanne Jugan, who founded the Little Sisters of the Poor; Rafael Arnaiz Baron, who renounced his rich upbringing to dedicate himself to prayer and our brother Francisco Coll y Guitart OP, whom we posted on earlier this year. That post can be read here.

The Congregation founded by St. Francisco, The Dominican Sisters of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, has 1,200 sisters across four continents. Sister Rosa Di Tullio OP, the Roman superior of the Congregation founded by St. Francisco, described him as "a Dominican in every sense of the word because he was a great preacher in difficult times. He did not withdraw in face of difficulties because he had great love. He is a modern saint."

Saints This Month - 5 October : Bl. Bartolo Longo, Apostle of the Rosary

Many Saints begin their life as sinners. It is not very often that you come across one who was a Satanist priest. Bl. Bartolo however was an ordained member and leader of a Neapolitan Satanist cult. He was born in 1841 to a devout family but his mother died when he was ten and he slowly began to lose his faith. By the time he had gone up to the University of Naples he had renounced his Christian heritage. He tried to fill this gap by experimenting with witchcraft and magic. He became involved with a Satanist group and after having spiritual experiences was elected by his fellow devotees to be ordained in the priesthood of Satan.

His life became a mixture of depression, confusion, ill-health and diabolic visions. The physical and mental strain became too much for Bartolo and he turned to an old school friend for advice. His friend pleaded with him to renounce Satan and speak to Alberto Radente, a Dominican priest renowned for his spiritual counsel.

After a long period of reflection and repentance, Bartolo was received as a lay Dominican, taking the name Rosario. Whilst he had renounced his wicked life Bartolo still felt the need to offer reparation. He went to Pompeii and joined a charitable group, where he aided the good works of Countess Di Fusco. Whilst he did great work for the poor and sick, he still felt that his service at the altar of Satan had condemned him to Hell. As he fell deeper into despair the grace of God touched him and he remembered Fr. Radente telling him that the Blessed Virgin had told St. Dominic that "he who propagates my rosary will be saved". With peace in his heart he knew what God wanted him to do.

He found a run-down church and began to restore it. He then organised a festival in honour of Our Lady of the Rosary. In 1875 he obtained a painting of Our Lady of the Rosary to be hung in the church. People flocked to the church and miracles began to be reported. With the encouragement of the Bishop he began work on a much larger church. It was consecrated in 1891 and in 1939 was enlarged to become the Basilica of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary of Pompeii.

At the suggestion of Pope Leo XIII, Bartolo Longo and the Countess Mariana di Fusco were married. The chaste couple continued to do many charitable works and provided for orphaned children and the children of prisoners which, for its time, was revolutionary. Longo continued promoting the Rosary until his death in 1926. Pope John Paul II beatified him in 1980 and in his Apostolic Letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae called him the "Apostle of the Rosary".

Bl. Bartolo shows us the power of the Holy Rosary and the infinite mercy of God. It does not matter how far we are from God: because He who descended into Hell still holds out his hand for us to grab and be pulled to safety.

Not Just Old Bones

The reaction to the arrival of the relics of St. Therese of Liseux in England has been very mixed within the media and society. The liberal-secularist media elite has been aghast at the idea of the thousands of people taking time to see some "old bones". The Times' Matthew Parris called for his fellow atheists to take to the streets to fight these "nutters". The Guardian's Simon Jenkins compared Catholic veneration of relics to shamanism or elephant worship and a Barnsley councillor twittered his distaste for "slobbering zealots". There has also been criticism from Protestants with protests at York Minster against idolatry. Even within the Catholic community some unease has been expressed at the perceived arcane and medieval practice of venerating the mortal remains of a Saint.

Many of the attacks fail to understand truly the veneration of relics. Veneration of relics is a natural human instinct. One only has to visit Red Square and view the body of Lenin or search eBay for a pen used by Ronald Reagan or a napkin used by Elvis Presley to acknowledge that we honour the possessions and bodies of those we love or respect and who have died . Even looking at the gravestones in a cemetery displays this point.

The Christian veneration of relics has biblical foundation. Miracles were worked through both the cloak of Elijah and the bones of Elisha. In Acts we see people healed by coming into contact with handkerchiefs touched by St. Paul. We also of course see a woman healed by touching the hem of Christ's cloak.

The early Church also treasured and venerated the remains of the early martyrs. After the martyrdom of St. Polycarp, the Smyrnaeans collected his bones, which they regarded as "more valuable than precious stones or refined gold", and laid them in a suitable place that they might venerate them. The importance of relics was emphasised by the second Council of Nicaea in 787, which declared that no church should be consecrated without relics being placed in the altar stone. Whilst miracles may be attached to relics they are not magic or Juju. As St. Jerome points out: "We do not worship, we do not adore, for fear that we should bow down to the creature rather than the creator but we venerate the relics of the martyrs in order to better adore Him, whose martyrs they are."

Relics help the believer to pray with faith and confidence because of their physicality. We can see, touch and kiss "the burnt-out remains of love for God". It is through this faith that God works miracles not because the objects are lucky charms or magic. We are brought closer to a holy person and this brings us closer to God.At Cologne in 2005 Pope Benedict summed up the part relics play in the life of the Church: "By inviting us to venerate the mortal remains of the martyrs and saints, the Church does not forget that, in the end, these are indeed just human bones, but they are bones that belonged to individuals touched by the transcendent power of God. The relics of the saints are traces of that invisible but real presence which sheds light upon the shadows of the world and reveals the Kingdom of Heaven in our midst. They cry out with us and for us ‘Maranatha!’ – ‘Come Lord Jesus!’”

The Dominican Friars will be leading Compline at the Oxford Oratory in the presence of St. Therese's relics on the 7th of October at 11:45. For more information click here.

Saints This Month-1 October: St. Therese of Lisieux

Little flower? She was as tough as old boots! - Fr Denis Geraghty OP, Lourdes 2009

As Oxford prepares to welcome the relics of St. Therese of Lisieux, it is a perfect time to reflect on her life and message. She was born in Normandy in 1873, to devout parents, both of whom have been beatified. Her mother died when she was four and her father sold his lace business to a nephew and relocated the family to Lisieux. Therese experienced another loss at the age of nine when her "second mother", her sister Pauline, entered the local Carmelite monastery.

A few months after this the child Therese took ill with fever. As the family stood around the sick-bed, looking at her like a "string of onions", Therese focused on the statue of Mary in her room and prayed to her. She saw the statue smile at her and was healed. After her recovery she developed a great habit of mental prayer, finding places of solitude and quiet to listen and speak to God. However she was still prone to wild emotional tantrums and would often burst into tears at the slightest negativity. However at Christmas 1886 , just as such an outburst was bubbling inside her, she felt Jesus enter her heart. This conversion, as she called it, gave her a greater understanding of others and herself. The following Christmas she would enter Carmel.

Whilst she is affectionately know as the Little Flower, over the following year she displayed a will of steel and the toughness of old boots. The superior of the Carmelite Convent said she was too young to enter. Therese went to the Bishop who concurred with the Mother Superior. Therese became very depressed and her father tried to cheer her spirits by taking her and her sister Celine on pilgrimage to Rome. Therese enjoyed the experience tremendously. Her small stature and youth were an advantage as she could touch tombs and relics without being shouted at. The highlight of the trip was an audience with Pope Leo XIII. As the childish girl from Normandy came close to the Vicar of Christ she broke all protocol of the Papal Court and begged the Holy Father to allow her to enter the Carmel in Liseux. The Pope replied, and Therese was carried away by two guards. However the Vicar General was impressed with her determination and she was accepted for early entry into the convent.

During her first years in the convent she experienced much suffering. Her father had a stroke and became very ill. Gossip filtered into the convent about his sanity and Therese was filled with guilt believing that her entry was responsible for his malady. She also experienced dryness in prayer, saying that she was so grief-stricken that she often fell asleep in prayer. She consoled herself by saying that mothers loved children when they lie asleep in their arms and so God must love her when she slept during prayer.

She knew that as a Carmelite nun she would never be able to perform great deeds. "Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love." She took every chance to sacrifice, no matter how small it would seem. She smiled at the sisters she didn't like. She ate everything she was given without complaining -- so that she was often given the worst leftovers. One time she was accused of breaking a vase when she was not at fault. Instead of arguing she sank to her knees and begged forgiveness. These little sacrifices cost her more than bigger ones, for these went unrecognised by others. No one told her how wonderful she was for these little secret humiliations and good deeds.

In 1896 she began to cough blood. She kept working without telling anyone until she became so sick a year later that it was obvious. Worst of all she had lost her joy and confidence and felt she would die young without leaving anything behind. Pauline had already had her writing down her memories for a journal so they would have something to circulate on her life after her death. Her pain was so great but her one dream was of the work she would do after her death, helping those on earth. "I will return," she said, "my heaven will be spent on earth." She died on September 30, 1897 at the age of 24. She was canonized 28 years later and in 1997 she was declared a Doctor of the Church.

Her influence is still very much present. Her "Little Way" is an inspiration for millions of people. She expresses how traditionally great deeds and heroic acts are not the only way to sanctity. She gives an example of the spiritual life that is understandable and imitable by all, regardless of education or sophistication. St. Therese always wanted to travel the world as a missionary and in a way she does. Her relics have been taken around the globe! Their presence has not only deepened the faith of Catholics but has helped people of all denominations and religions, as their stopover in York Minster showed.

St. Therese realised that one does not need to found a religious order or suffer martyrdom to know and love Christ. She realised that love is the calling of all Christians and to love truly is always a great deed: "I feel in me the vocation of the Priest. I have the vocation of the Apostle. Martyrdom was the dream of my youth and this dream has grown with me. Considering the mystical body of the Church, I desired to see myself in them all. Charity gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that the Church had a Heart and that this Heart was burning with love. I understood that Love comprised all vocations, that Love was everything, that it embraced all times and places ... in a word, that it was eternal! Then in the excess of my delirious joy, I cried out: O Jesus, my Love ... my vocation, at last I have found it ... My vocation is Love!"

The Dominican Friars will be leading Compline at the Oxford Oratory in the presence of St. Therese's relics on the 7th of October at 11:45. For more information click here.

A Common Mistake...

St Francis of Assisi

Tradition has it that St Francis and St Dominic met in Rome when they were both there to seek ratification for their new Orders from the Pope. The two Orders have regarded themselves as 'first cousins', even 'brothers', ever since. Where possible, Franciscans come to Dominican churches to preach on the feast of St Dominic and Dominicans go to Franciscan churches to preach on the feast of St Francis. Below is the homily given by Br Robert Gay OP at the Capuchin Franciscan church in Oxford for the feast of St Francis, 4th October 2009.

If you were to choose a person on the Cowley Road at random and ask them to name a saint, it would be worth betting a reasonably large amount of money that the answer you would get would be St Francis. I would certainly be very surprised if the answer was St Dominic! There is no doubt that Francis has captured the popular imagination, much more than any other saint. If you were to ask that same person what he knows about St Francis, then he might mention something about animals or birds. And this is where it starts to go wrong. Of course, a love of creation was an important part of Francis’ life, but as with so many of the popular ideas about him, it simply doesn’t do him justice.

Zeffirelli’s famous film, ‘Brother Sun, Sister Moon’ is just one example of a rather limited, a rather skewed view of who Francis was and what he stood for. I looked at the blurb on the back of the DVD box for the film yesterday, and it says this: ‘Francis sought communion with the natural world, by renouncing his family’s riches to seek his own destiny’. It continues: ‘Francis was, in a sense, history’s first drop out; he left a life of comfort to seek spiritual union with the world’.

The problem with this blurb, and perhaps with many of the popular images of Francis, is that it doesn’t do him justice because it doesn’t mention anything about what his life was really all about. Why? Because it doesn’t mention Jesus Christ. From the moment Francis heard the voice from the cross at San Damiano, he was hooked – he was captivated by Jesus Christ, and he wanted to penetrate the mysteries of his life, and do whatever he had to do to follow him.

I want to suggest to you that Francis’ captivation with the person of Jesus shows us something important about his path to founding the Order, and about his particular route to sainthood. The beginning of this path was an encounter with Jesus, and he continued to be nourished along the way by contemplating Jesus throughout his life. He had a special fascination with the incarnation, something which I think shows itself in three ways, each one related to the other.

Firstly, we see the importance Francis gave to Christ’s infancy, and as I’m sure you know, he is credited with introducing the practice of having a nativity scene in the Church during the Christmas period. He clearly felt that contemplating the child in the manger was an important way of getting close to Christ, and he came to understand what it meant for Christ to be poor, weak, and defenceless.

Francis also saw how the condition of the child in the manger was linked to another episode in Jesus' life; his poverty, weakness and defencelessness during his passion, and his death on the cross, which was his second distinct way of looking at the incarnation. The importance Francis gives to Jesus’ final days is shown in the ‘Office of the Passion’, a collage of scriptural passages that Francis arranged to be used especially during Holy Week. Reading this collection, we can see how he uses the scriptures to outline a contemplative journey: accompanying Jesus in Gethsemane, standing with him before Pilate, witnessing the scourging and crowning with thorns, his crucifixion and death. And we should not forget the marks of Christ's passion, the stigmata, which provided Francis with a personal experience of the suffering of the cross in his later years. His third way of looking at the incarnation was to look at Jesus present in the Blessed Sacrament, what looks like a simple piece of bread revealing the Saviour to those who have the eyes of faith. What seems small and insignificant is in fact nothing less than Christ himself.

Through contemplating the incarnation, Francis realised that he had to model his life on this mystery. The way of poverty, vulnerability, the way of suffering and rejection, that Francis saw in Christ was to be his way too. And once he had started living in this way, it had a dramatic effect. Francis began to see the poor, the sick and the marginalised as people just like Jesus Christ. And he saw that to serve these people was to serve Jesus, because they were like Christ in the manger, or Christ on Calvary. And his job, and the job of his brothers, was to tend to their needs, and to speak to them of the one who had become a poor man to share their broken condition. In his service of them, he showed them the love of Christ. For Francis being vulnerable and rejected like Jesus, and serving those who shared that condition brought him true joy, the sign that he had found his vocation.

Today’s feast is a great occasion. It’s a chance to honour Francis and give thanks to God for his life and his witness to Jesus Christ. It’s a chance to give thanks to God for the Order in all its branches, and for the gift of benefactors and friends. But that isn’t all. Whether you are a Friar who has celebrated his golden jubilee, a newly clothed novice, a tertiary, or a member of this parish, it’s a chance to look at Jesus again, through the eyes of Francis. It’s a chance to contemplate the poor vulnerable child in the manger, to contemplate Jesus in his passion and on the cross, and to gaze and adore him present in the Holy Eucharist. And when you pray to him this day, ask that he open your eyes, so that you may see more clearly who are poor, weak, vulnerable, and the needy here in Oxford that he is calling you to serve.

In the News ...

This month Br. Lawrence discusses his vocation and journey to solemn profession in an article for Catholic Life entitled A Journey into Religious Life. His profession was also featured in The Catholic Herald.

As part of the preparation for the arrival of the relics of St. Therese of Lisieux, the young people of the Oxford Oratory staged Divine Comedy: A Theresian Mystery Play. Our very own Br. Daniel, seen treading the boards below, played the priest at the execution of Pranzini, who called for the criminal to repent for his crimes.

The relics of St. Therese arrive at the Oxford Oratory on Wednesday next, 7th October, the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, and the Dominicans from Blackfriars will be singing Compline in their presence at 11:45 p.m.

The Year of the Priest - Victim 0001

As September 11th came around again, we remembered the 2,993 men, women and children who died in the terrorist atrocities of 2001. The first recorded victim of the September 11th attacks was Fr Mychal F. Judge OFM. He was the Chaplain to the New York City Fire Department. On hearing that the Twin Towers had been attacked, he went directly to ground-zero. On his arrival he was greeted with a horrific scene that we can only imagine. His first concern was for the dying, who were lying in the streets. He administered the last rites, where he could, and proceeded to the emergency command post set up in the North Tower’s lobby. He offered prayer and aid to the emergency services, the injured and the dead. The Mayor of New York arrived and asked Father Judge to pray for the city. At 9:59am the South Tower collapsed, sending tons of debris crashing into the North Tower Lobby, killing many. Father Mychal was among the dead. His last-words were a prayer: "Jesus, please end this right now! God please end this!"

Father Judge understood his calling and duty as a priest. He tried to be a good shepherd. When his flock needed him he was there. He was a familiar face to both Catholics and non-Catholics in the NYFD, often working sixteen hour days and getting up

in the middle of the night to offer support to both the victims and the fighters of fire. He followed the Good Shepherd and was prepared to lay down his life for his sheep. The photo of his lifeless body being carried from the carnage, became an iconic image of this dark day, being dubbed American Pieta. His sense of duty and sacrifice, led to the moniker “the Saint of 9/11”, being attributed the Franciscan friar. His helmet was presented to Pope John Paul II and he has received many posthumous awards but what is truly amazing is the example he gave of priestly service. As he prophetically preached, the day before his death, in his last homily:

"You do what God has called you to do.

You get on that rig,

you go out and do the job.

No matter how big the call,

no matter how small,

you have no idea of what

God is calling you to do."

Mychal F. Judge OFM (1933-2001)

Eternal rest grant unto him and all the fallen of September 11th, O Lord.

And let perpetual light shine upon them

May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed,

through the mercy of God,

rest in peace.

Amen.