Councils of Faith: Constantinople 1 (381)

The question that dominated the First council of Nicaea (325) was in essence: Is Jesus merely a super-being that God created, or is he God himself? The Arians had insisted that if Christianity is to be consistently monotheistic it must acknowledge that only God the Father is Divine. For the Arians, then, the Son and Spirit are more like immensely powerful angels. As we have seen in a previous post, Nicaea forcefully rejected this idea and preserved the scriptural truth of the Divinity of Christ via a non-scriptural term: homoousios, translated into English as ‘consubstantial’. The Son is consubstantial with the Father, God from God, begotten not made. 

The Arians, then, were roundly condemned at Nicaea, yet still the issue remained unresolved. Whilst the language of ‘homoousios’ had the clear advantage of guaranteeing the oneness of God, there were those, particularly those associated with Alexandrian theology and Origen, that worried this non-scriptural ‘substantial’ language was misleading. They feared that it might provoke at one extreme a clumsy division of God’s substance into three, as if in fact we worshipped three Gods; and at the other extreme a blurring of Father, Son and Spirit into a single Godhead without distinction. 

Fifty years of political and theological confrontation followed as the schools of Antioch and Alexandria argued over how the council was to be interpreted and a kind of neo-Arianism rejected the council altogether. Much of the Origenist East remained strongly influenced by Arianism despite the best efforts of Athanasius and the Cappadocian Fathers. The Emperor Theodosius, a westerner who was strongly supportive of Nicaea, therefore decided to resolve the issue once and for all and convened the first council of Constantinople in 381. 

Constantinople 1 has been called the Cappadocian council as both Gregory Nazianzus and Gregory of Nyssa played a leading role. Indeed, Constantinople 1 rejected all those heresies that they had struggled against for much of their lives. The Arians were once again condemned and the divinity of Christ affirmed. This time, however, in response to the Apollinarians who denied that Christ had a human soul, the council went further and asserted that not only was Jesus divine, but he also had a human soul. The Trinitarian picture was completed by an implicit recognition, carefully worded using only scriptural expressions in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the Macedonians on side, that the Holy Spirit was divine. 

The first council of Constantinople, then, in broad terms defined the shape of Trinitarian theology. Its Creed, confusingly called the Nicene Creed, has become the most widely used in East and West albeit with a slight difference on the procession of the Holy Spirit (the famous ‘filioque’). In the process, Constantinople 1 set the terms for the great Christological controversies that would dominate future councils: Constantinople 1 declared that Christ was fully givine, and yet had a human soul. The theological struggles of the next centuries would be directed at wrestling with this question of how Jesus, who was God, could also be man.

What I did in the summer - Visit to Cairo

From the 15^th of July to the 17^th of August I visited the IDEO (the Dominican Institute for Oriental Studies: www.ideo-cairo.org) in Cairo. Apart from holidays in the place of the birth of History, the other reason for my visit was to understand the life of Christian missions in majority Muslim countries. In the beginning I wanted to go to Iraq (I love the unequaled poetry and wisdom of Iraq) but the situation there and the fact that our Dominican houses have been living under constant threats dampened my enthusiasm a little bit.

From right to left: Frs René-Vincent, Jean, Adrien and Gustave

For the whole month, during a heat wave (38°C to 42°C), I managed to visit many Christian and Muslim quarters of Cairo, and I also visited some areas outside Cairo. I visited the Islamic Cairo (a couple of kilometres from the IDEO), entered beautiful mosques that reflect the genius of the Egyptian building skills in the Middle Ages, saw the remarkable and vast Coptic churches of Moqattamcarved in the rock (some beneath others), went to the pyramids, the Sphinx and the Solar Boat at Giza, visited some of the world’s most renowned museums (The Egyptian Museum, the Museum of Islamic Art and the Coptic Museum), entered overwhelming mausoleums and madrassas of the Fatimid period and went to the four monasteries of Wadi El-Natrun in the desert.

Gustave near Bab El-Nasr in the Islamic Cairo

Posing with a guide with his camel

One of the four monastries of Wadi El-Natrun

One of the churches of Moqattam

After spending days visiting highly different suburbs of Cairo, I came to realise that life there is more complex than I imagined, and so are people’s mindsets. I got different ideas of Cairo, moving from the postmodern houses of Smart Village to the City of the Dead (where families actually live in tombs), from the quiet and hyper clean streets of Az-zamalek to the noisy Sharia Ramsi’s or Sharia El Ghaysh, from the Sushi restaurants of El Ma’adi to the world’s largest recycling hub Moqattam (the ‘garbage city’), from the enormous futuristic shopping mall of Sun City to the more traditional (and more attractive) market of Khan Al Khalilli.

Aerial view of Moqattam, the 'garbage city'

Sun City from above

Children playing in the City of the Dead

Smart Village in Cairo

After ten formal interviews and countless long chats with people, Muslims and Christians, I came to understand that religious tensions in Egypt usually arise when an Imam speaks negatively of Christians or a Christian priest tries to undermine Islam. The killings generally start after a small incident: when I was there, an entire community started a fight in Dahshur because a Christian tailor had burnt a shirt belonging to a Muslim client while trying to iron it. As I visited Cairo during the month of Ramadan, I witnessed the highest level of Islamic spirituality, devotion and charitable works. Many times I was invited to the Iftar (the meal taken every evening by Muslims at sunset during the fasting of the month of Ramadan), sometimes by Muslims and many times by Christian friends who grew up in that tradition. I also spent hours reading books from the IDEO’s rich library, especially on the origins of the Christian-Muslim dialogue.

Inside the IDEO's library

Iftar with Christian friends and an Egyptian Dominican friar in Cairo

Inside the Dominican Chapel in Cairo

As I cannot yet make public the findings of my research, that being part of an academic work in progress, I only can say that I learnt that our ways to relate to our neighbours from a different religious tradition, depend much on how and where we grew up, but also on how we choose to live with them. I am currently learning Arabic, hoping to re-visit Cairo sometime in the near future and one day to see the mythical Baghdad.

Councils of Faith: Nicaea I (325)

Some time before the year 322, a dispute arose in the Church of Alexandria over the preaching of the presbyter Arius, whose account of the relationship between God the Father and the Son had been condemned by his bishop: what particularly attracted censure was the assertion that the Son’s existence was not co-eternal with the Father’s, but that, in the catchphrase which the Council picked out for an anathema, ‘there was a time when he was not’.

Arius appealed for support to bishops all around the Eastern part of the Roman Empire, and soon this controversy had expanded to encompass much of the Eastern Church. It was the Emperor Constantine who, troubled by this state of affairs, called together a council of bishops from all over the Empire to resolve the disputed question in the city of Nicaea, near the imperial residence at Nicomedia.

As well as making various disciplinary dispositions, all but a very few of the Council Fathers subscribed to a creed which roundly condemned the Arian position, affirming that the Son was, like the Father, ‘true God’, not a creature but ‘begotten of the Father, that is, of the substance of the Father’. It condemned belief in a beginning of the Son’s existence, which would imply mutability, and thus make him less than God. Most controversially, the Council employed the term homoousion (‘identical in substance/being/existence’), not found in the Scriptures, to describe the relationship of Father and Son.

Constantine’s hope that this great council would put an end to disagreement in the Church proved ill-founded, however: even among those opposed to the teaching of Arius, many were unhappy with the unscriptural language of the definition, arguing that it encouraged the “opposite” heresy of modalism, or treating the terms ‘Father’ and ‘Son’ as describing nothing more than different ‘modes’ of God’s operation. So the debate continued throughout much of the fourth century: indeed, by 360, most bishops in the East, enjoying the support of the Emperor Constantius II, more or less openly rejected the authority and teaching of Nicaea.

It was as this discussion developed, and the logical implications of rejecting the doctrine of Nicaea became clearer, that more bishops within the Church came to appreciate the significance of Nicaea’s teaching and the need to uphold its status as a council of the whole Church, standing above all the various smaller councils being held with great eagerness by different parties throughout this period. Not only, then, is Nicaea significant for its teaching on the Trinity, which is still fundamental to all Christian thinking on the subject, but also for its role in the Church’s developing understanding of herself, and of the place of Councils in her life and teaching.

Denis Geraghty OP RIP (1929-2012)

Please join us in praying for our brother Denis Geraghty OP, who died last night at our priory in London. He was born on 26^th April 1929, growing up in Manchester and training and working a nurse before entering the Order, where he made Profession on 14^th December 1976. He was ordained priest on 28^th June 1980, and lived and worked in several houses of the Province, including London, where he was prior, and Oxford, where he was Student Master. A few years ago he moved back to London, and continued to play his part in the life of the community and parish, faithfully attending the Conventual Office and Mass right up to the day he died. After a deterioration of general health and mobility in recent months, he died peacefully in his sleep. May he rest in peace.

Hear with favour our prayers, which we humbly offer, O Lord, for the salvation of the soul of Denis, your servant and Priest, that he, who devoted a faithful ministry to your name, may rejoice in the perpetual company of your saints. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Councils of Faith: Introduction - 2

What is an ecumenical Council? Why are there 21 Ecumenical or General Councils?
(Part 2)

After the ‘final’ split of the Latin (West) and Greek (East) speaking Churches in 1054, both continued to have local synods of bishops. In the West these happened at various levels for various territories, including provincial and sometimes national ones. In due course, the Pope starting calling general (i.e. non-territorially particular) ones, starting with Lateran I in 1123. These grew in importance and complexity and in what they addressed. They were intended for the Western Church in the first place, and held in West Europe, but the Pope did have a universal ministry and jurisdiction. Two of them, Lyons II (1274) and the Council meeting at Florence in 1439, were attended by Eastern officials to try and restore Christian unity between West and East. Although agreements were reached no lasting unity was achieved.

The Pope called another western general council at Trent (1545-63) to address the problems of Protestantism. The Protestants, some of whom had wanted a general council called to address their complaints about the Church, rejected its findings. Some of them rejected its authority on the grounds that it was not an ‘ecumenical council’, i.e. one like those of the first millennium that commanded adherence in East as well as West. By this time lists (with some variations) were emerging in the West of the general councils from the period of the Middle Ages. St Robert Bellarmine, in the 1580s, was the first to draw up such a list in which, to respond to the Protestant objection, he called all the councils of the first millennium lists and those of the second up to and including Trent ‘ecumenical’. This list soon found its way into official Vatican documents and Papal discourse. (Constantinople IV (869-70) was first given ‘ecumenical status’ by Papal officials late in the 11th century principally because one of its canons argued strongly against state interference in Episcopal appointments. Popes endorsed this status.) It is the list we now have, to which, of course, have been added Vatican I and II. Though there are other important, if officially less universal, church councils we shall in the fist place examine those now listed as the 21 Ecumenical Councils of the Church.

Some prefer to name them the 21 General Councils, out of respect for the sensibilities of Eastern Christians who generally restrict the term ‘ecumenical council’ for the first 7 on the Papal list. The Popes use both terms, sometimes choosing ‘general’ to show respect to the Eastern Churches. Though these councils sometimes treated the reconciliation of Christians, the word ‘ecumenical’ is not being used in this modern sense of ecumenism in the term ‘ecumenical council’.

The Church’s theological understanding of councils, and the expression of this in canonical and procedural terms have developed over history. The Church has come to recognise that although an ecumenical council requires the presence of many Bishops, it is the role of the Pope that is crucial in determining what is and is not an ecumenical or general council. As Lumen Gentium (LG) puts it ‘there never is an ecumenical council which is not confirmed or at least recognised as such by Peter’s successor. (LG 22)’ It is his universal jurisdiction, unique to him as an individual among the other bishops, that makes this possible. In actual fact the extent of active participation of the pope has varied a lot historically in different ecumenical councils. However, the Church in her wisdom now also states “And it is the prerogative of the Roman Pontiff to convoke such councils, to preside over them and to confirm them. (LG 23)” However, the bishops do not serve as mere adjuncts of Papal ministry. They have their own dignity and office, directly conferred by God and given in Episcopal ordination. Thus ecumenical / general councils, in which they come together, in communion with the Pope, express the highest authority of the Church, applicable in teaching on faith and morals and in regulating the liturgy and in other disciplinary measures.

Councils of Faith: Introduction - 1

What is an ecumenical Council? Why are there 21 Ecumenical or General Councils? 

Part 1.

Ecumenical Councils are meetings of bishops from across the Church, in union with the Pope, to exercise, by discussion, vote, and the passing of written texts or (legal) resolutions, their teaching and juridical ministry on behalf of the whole Church. More local (geographically or juridically restricted) councils have also occurred and still occur: they require less participation by the Pope, and have competence over that part of the Church of which the validly assembled bishops, or indeed patriarchs, are ordinaries. (Other religious leaders and experts may also be invited to participate in various ways.) For those who are interested, authoritative Church teaching, in its current formulation, on the nature of ecumenical councils is contained in Vatican II’s Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium (LG) n. 22 and wider but relevant teaching in nn. 23-25.

The practice of having councils, ecumenical or smaller in scale, is rooted in the ministry of the apostles and the special task of Peter, as given by Jesus, and the way they exercised these ministries as testified to in the New Testament including the letters. The Twelve, under the leadership of Peter, are a crucial group in the founding and early leadership of the Church. They are often referred to as a collective entity, what we know call a college. Paul, also named an apostle, is keen to stress his solidarity and union in teaching and discipline with the other apostles. Particular authority lies in their collective decisions, seen most dramatically in the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15. This sets a precedent for later synods or councils of bishops, the successors of the apostles who receive their teaching and juridical (disciplinary) function in the Church, and also their role at the service of the unity of local Churches and the Universal Church.

We know of local and regional councils in the second century and they became a common, established widespread practice of the Church in the third century. In a similar, but not identical, way to the apostles, the bishops have serious and weighty authority on their own, and also when they act in agreement, whether dispersed or gathered together at the time. At the same time appeals were made to the eldest churches, those of known apostolic origin, and especially to Rome, linked in a unique way with the ministry and martyrdom of St Peter. After Christianity was officially tolerated by Constantine in 313, it became possible to call a council of the bishops across the whole Roman Empire. This happened for the first time at Nicea (modern Turkey) in 325. It was called an ecumenical council, after the Greek word for household, a term that became an administrative and descriptive term in the Roman Empire, used to refer to the entire household or economy of the empire. (Such was the size of the empire that it acquired the sense of ‘universal’. However, it seems that Churches outside the Empire were not invited.) Though very few western or Latin bishops attended, the decisions, expressed in legal canons, were approved by the Pope and such a collective and united gathering and set of decisions by the bishops were seen as powerfully authoritative and binding for all the Church.

The practice of holding such ecumenical councils grew, alongside more local or regional ones. In due course, by the ninth century, 7 councils (the last one being Nicea III in 787) were recognised by Rome and the main eastern sees (ie the Patriarchies) as ‘ecumenical’ in stature and authority. All these 7 councils were held in the eastern empire, in modern Turkey, but were held to be ecumenical since the Pope consented to them happening, and then accepted and approved their canons. The extent of his active participation, typically via representatives, varied. The papal approval of their documents and canons was not always immediate or comprehensive. Constantinople I (381) was intended as an eastern council only but later the Pope approved nearly all of its canons, in effect raising it to ecumenical status.

(To be continued...)

Dominican Vocations Open Day: 27th October, Blackfriars Oxford

YEAR OF FAITH, 11th October 2012 – 24th November, 2013.

On 11th October Pope Benedict XVI will solemnly open a Year of Faith with the celebration of Mass in St Peter’s, Rome. The Church has a long tradition of Holy Years, marking various dates, anniversaries and ongoing themes in the life of the Church and of the individual members who constitute the Church. This one has a particular focus on faith – as did the Year of Faith called by Paul VI in 1967, to commemorate the 19th centenary of the martyrdom of Saints Peter and Paul. We are called to renew our faith: to deepen our knowledge of it, our commitment to it and our proclamation of it to others. 

We are to do this as individuals but also, crucially, ecclesially, as members of the Church, at parish, diocesan and universal levels, and as members of religious orders, institutes, and other ecclesial communities and movements. Our faith, though personal and embedded in the particulars of our vocations, relationships and cultures, is a participation in the faith of the Church as a whole, across time and space. We receive our faith, a gift of grace from God to each of us, through the Church. We are taught the faith, and receive its sanctifying effects, through the apostles and their successors the bishops, and the priests and deacons who share in their ministry. Our communion and fellowship with the other members of the Church nourishes and strengthens our faith.

For these ecclesial reasons this Year of Faith coincides with the 50th Anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council. The Holy Year is thus an opportunity to deepen our appreciation of the teaching of this the 21st Ecumenical or General Council of the Church. 11th October 2012 is also the 20th anniversary of the promulgation of the Universal Catechism of the Catholic Church, a major fruit of the council and a great source to both deepen and teach our faith. It is the day on which the XII Ordinary Synod Of Bishops opens. This set of synods began after Vatican II, and as a response to it. Each has resulted in a universal letter (Apostolic Exhortation) from the Pope. This year the theme is the New Evangelisation. The call to every Christian to witness to his or her faith, that is to evangelise, was, along with the call to holiness, one of the two universal calls that Vatican II made to all Christians. In short, this year is rooted in the event of Vatican II. But Vatican II is rooted in the faith of the Church, and in continuity with the way that the faith has been taught and lived for 2000 years.

Both Blessed John Paul II and Benedict XVI see the event, documents and implementation of Vatican II as key to the life of the current Church. In his document announcing this Year of Faith, Porta Fidei (2011, n.5) Benedict cited his blessed predecessor: “With the passing of the years, the Council documents have lost nothing of their value or brilliance… I feel more than ever in duty bound to point to the Council as the great grace bestowed on the Church in the twentieth century: there we find a sure compass by which to take our bearings in the century now beginning.” (from Novo Millenio Ineunte, 2001, n.57.)’ Benedict then immediately continues: ‘I would also like to emphasize strongly what I had occasion to say concerning the Council a few months after my election as Successor of Peter: “if we interpret and implement it guided by a right hermeneutic, it can be and can become increasingly powerful for the ever necessary renewal of the Church” (Address to the Roman Curia, 2005).’ As the Pope has put it and as the Congregation for Doctrine and Faith put it in its Note for the Year of Faith, this means a ‘hermeneutic of reform in continuity’, not a hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture’. The words ‘continuity’ and ‘reform’ both matter. The Church stays the same in its essentials, but reforms and renews herself, aware of the pull of sin and of the world; she changes as she meets new situations and challenges, but so as to continue to do what she has always been called to do, that is, to worship God in truth and love, and bring the life of God to humanity, and grow in holiness. The Council thus calls the Church to a process of organic growth, drawing on, and loyal to, the faith, worship, magisterial teaching and sound theology of the Church over time, but moving forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit to continue that life and mission in changed situations and cultures, aware that she often needs to change, to adapt, to find fresh expressions and to renew herself to do so.

Major Councils of the Church have always sought to serve both continuity and reform in the life and mission of the Church. They affirm the apostolic faith of the Church, expressing and sometimes defining what it consists of in the changed circumstances of their day and in intellectual challenges to it, sometimes using new terminology to do so. But they also call for reform and renewal and a more effective undertaking of the witness and mission of the Church in the circumstances of their day. General Councils do this since they are gatherings of the bishops, successors of the apostles, meeting together, in communion with the Pope, which decide things together, with the approval of the Pope. As such they carry the highest authority of the Church.

It is the intention of Godzdogz over this Year of Faith to look back at the 21 Ecumenical, or General, Councils of the Church. We will look (briefly) at them in their historic contexts, the challenges they faced, what they taught, what reforms they called for and why, and to some extent what then happened. In short we will look at the processes of ecclesial continuity and reforming change on the large stage of 2000 years of Church history. The series is called ‘Councils of Faith’.

The series will hopefully give us a fuller appreciation of our faith, of its ecclesial dimension, of God’s action in our midst, but also of the implications of God choosing to work through fallible human beings. God is at work in graced and gifted but fragile people, weak and mired by sin, and caught up in, and sometimes dangerously entangled in, politics and all manner of complexities of life in this world. It will hopefully help us put debates about Vatican II into a more informed and realistic perspective and to make a more informed, and so more effective, contribution, in communion with the pope and our bishops, to the renewal of the church. In short, we will hopefully come to a fuller realization that God’s gift of revelation and salvation to us means that we do indeed hold immense treasure, but in earthenware vessels. May this allow the focus and glory to be about God, manifest in the face of Christ. (See 2 Cor 4). ‘Councils of Faith’ will hopefully help us grow in faith, aware of our ecclesial history, instilling in us both hope and also humility, informing us and also forming us, and making us better able to form others in faith.

Feast of St Francis of Assisi

On the 4^th October, the feast of St Francis, six of the Dominican friars from Blackfriars set out across Oxford to join our Franciscan brothers at Greyfriars for the celebration of their founder’s feast day. As is traditional, one of the Dominicans preached at the Mass (as a Franciscan does for us on the feast of St Dominic), and afterwards, we joined the Franciscans, as well as members of the Secular Franciscan Order and some parishioners of Greyfriars, for a festal meal in their refectory. This tradition of visiting each other on our respective founders’ feast days dates back to the earliest days of the two orders – indeed, St Francis and St Dominic themselves met during their lifetime – and it is wonderful to be able to continue it here in Oxford.

Below is an extract from the homily:

In the readings the Church has appointed for today’s feast (Ecclus 50:1-6; Gal 6:14-18; Mt 11:25-30), our attention seems to be being drawn to St Francis’s founding of the Friars Minor, to his rebuilding of a ruined church – the Portiuncula – to his bearing the Stigmata, and to his evangelical simplicity.

Of these four, rebuilding a ruined church seems to be on rather a different level from founding an order, bearing the Stigmata, and exemplifying the words of Christ. And yet, in some ways, I think it can tell us quite a lot about St Francis and his significance for the Church. We have to remember, after all, that the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries were a time when many people in different parts of Western Europe were seeking a renewal of Christianity in reaction to the laxity and opulent lifestyle of many of the clergy. For some, this meant a complete rejection of the Church’s institutions, and in its most extreme form, a complete denial of the goodness of material things.

In contrast to these heretical movements, then, one of the first things St Francis did on embracing his life of voluntary poverty was to rebuild the little ruined church which had been given to him by a local Benedictine abbot. In the first place, then, we see how from that early point St Francis’s life bears witness to the true purpose and meaning of poverty: it’s not about denying the goodness of material things – indeed, we see that they can be a way of giving glory to God – but rather a sign of total commitment to God’s kingdom, and a means of avoiding the temptation to which the ownership of material things can subject us. And, of course, those famous stories of St Francis preaching to the birds and his singing of ‘Brother Sun’ and ‘Sister Moon’ all remind us too of the delight which he took in the world around him as God’s creation.

But his rebuilding of that little church doesn’t simply show St Francis’s desire to give glory to God through the things he has created – it’s also symbolic of the significance of his life for the Church of his day, and through her subsequent history. St Francis and the Order he founded were a central part of the renewal of Church in the thirteenth century, a renewal which came about not through political manoeuvring or a dissenting rejection of the authority of the clergy, even if many of them were corrupt, but through a simple-hearted response to the call of Christ.

Spode Music Week 2012

It's not only in the liturgy that you would associate Dominicans with music. Readers of Godzdogz will know that fr. Robert Verrill has been a regular feature of Oxford University Philharmonia concerts over the last few years; and last year, I joined the same orchestra on flute. Of course, some members of the orchestra were initially startled to see two Dominican habits in their midst and may have wondered if this was some kind of conspiracy!

But Spode Music Week is used to Dominicans. Founded by Conrad Pepler OP at Spode House in 1953, the music week places a strong emphasis on the celebration of the Catholic liturgy. This year's course, held from 11th to 18th August at Abberley Hall School in Worcestershire (above), was my first Spode Music Week, but fr. Robert is a familiar face there. When he first participated four years ago, he was affectionately dubbed 'Brother Trumpet'; now, following his recent ordination, he has become 'Father Trumpet'!

The week was packed with a dazzling variety of musical activities, ranging from Gregorian chant and Bruckner's Mass in E Minor in the liturgy, to Dvorak's 8th Symphony with the full orchestra. The string orchestra, wind groups, children's orchestra and course choir ensured no one was at a loose end. I found Daniel-Lesur's Cantique de Cantiques fairly challenging, but all the more rewarding when we pulled it off in concert. I particularly enjoyed the scratch performance of The Pirates of Penzance on the second evening; and the combination of comic and musical talents in the final show on the last night.

There were optional lectures on musical topics: Richard Vendome's research into 'Vivaldi's women'; Philip Duffy's personal insights into the development of a new musical tradition at Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral; and James Kenelm Clarke on the little known world of 'library music'.

Afternoons were used for general relaxation, more music-making, or sports: a grass-stained habit was the inevitable result for 'Brother Cricket'! Then we were treated to evening recitals – countertenor, bassoon and violin – until we would file into the chapel for nightly Compline. The bar, of course, stayed open afterwards while the late night jamming sessions carried on with a life of their own...

Spode Music Week is unique for its combination of high-quality music-making with its particular emphasis on the Catholic liturgy, all in a family-friendly environment. Next year will be the 60th anniversary, and I'm already looking forward to it.