Sunday, November 3, 2013

DOUAI ABBEY IN ENGLAND

Douai Abbey - Woolhampton, Berkshire
A beautiful place of worship in England which a friend took me to visit is the Roman Catholic Douai Abbey in Woolhampton in Berkshire.  From the homepage of the abbey:

Douai Abbey is home to a community of monks of the English Benedictine Congregation. The monastery is under the patronage of St Edmund, King & Martyr, and was founded in Paris in 1615. Uprooted by the French Revolution it came to settle at Douai in Flanders. After more political turmoil the community of St Edmund finally returned to England in 1903, to Woolhampton in Berkshire, at the invitation of the Bishop of Portsmouth.


The interior of the abbey was quite a surprise, as I expected it to look not quite so traditional. When I left, the exterior was once again a surprise, and I felt somewhat as if I had been in two different structures. The interior includes contemporary touches, such as the techie lighting, the crucifix, and the stained glass windows.

Close-up of the crucifix

The close-up of the crucifix is stunning. In the abbey, the crucifix is positioned quite high, so the close-up after cropping the photo is an exquisite surprise.

Stained glass window with cool colors

Stained glass window with warm colors

I intended to post the stories of my travels in chronological order, but I had writer's block when I tried, so the posts will be about whatever strikes my fancy at the moment.

Image of the exterior of the abbey from Wikipedia.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

WHAT GOOD IS IT?

Of what use is a retractable dog lead with ten knots in it?  While I was away, Grandpère managed to get to ten.  We've had the lead for years and had a knot or two from time to time, but never ten.  I'm down to four now, using a combination of the blunt side of a seam ripper and my fingernails, but it's tedious work because the knots were pulled tight as the lead continued to be used.  I'm going to bed.  The rest of the knots can stay till tomorrow.

THE THREE OXFORD MARTYRS


The humble cross in Broad Street in front of Balliol College, shown below, marks the spot where Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley and then later Thomas Cranmer were martyred during the reign of Queen Mary I of England (aka known as Bloody Mary).

The first time I visited, I did not have my camera with me, nor did I when I attended mass at St Mary Magdalen Church, which is nearby.  On the third visit, the light was fading, and I feared the pictures might not come out well, but fortunately they did. 


I concur with my friends on Facebook who say, the crude brick marker is a most solemn and sacred place. Quotes from friends on Facebook:
"I spent a long time there on the sidewalk meditating on the events commemorated by these markers. Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer. We owe them so, so much."

"For me, that little brick cross is the most solemn spot in Oxford."

"I've stood there too. It felt a most sacred spot."

"He was a great man, and a better poet. Such a shame that we have to kill so many of them for our mad illusions."

And me: "The Book of Common Prayer is a masterpiece."
John Foxe's account of the burning of Ridley and Latimer:
Dr. Ridley, the night before execution, was very facetious, had himself shaved, and called his supper a marriage feast; he remarked upon seeing Mrs. Irish (the keeper's wife) weep, "Though my breakfast will be somewhat sharp, my supper will be more pleasant and sweet."

The place of death was on the northside of the town, opposite Baliol College. Dr. Ridley was dressed in a black gown furred, and Mr. Latimer had a long shroud on, hanging down to his feet. Dr. Ridley, as he passed Bocardo, looked up to see Dr. Cranmer, but the latter was then engaged in disputation with a friar. When they came to the stake, Mr. Ridley embraced Latimer fervently, and bid him: "Be of good heart, brother, for God will either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it." He then knelt by the stake, and after earnestly praying together, they had a short private conversation. Dr. Smith then preached a short sermon against the martyrs, who would have answered him, but were prevented by Dr. Marshal, the vice-chancellor. Dr. Ridley then took off his gown and tippet, and gave them to his brother-in-law, Mr. Shipside. He gave away also many trifles to his weeping friends, and the populace were anxious to get even a fragment of his garments. Mr. Latimer gave nothing, and from the poverty of his garb, was soon stripped to his shroud, and stood venerable and erect, fearless of death.

Dr. Ridley being unclothed to his shirt, the smith placed an iron chain about their waists, and Dr. Ridley bid him fasten it securely; his brother having tied a bag of gunpowder about his neck, gave some also to Mr. Latimer.

Dr. Ridley then requested of Lord Williams, of Fame, to advocate with the queen the cause of some poor men to whom he had, when bishop, granted leases, but which the present bishop refused to confirm. A lighted fagot was now laid at Dr. Ridley's feet, which caused Mr. Latimer to say: "Be of good cheer, Ridley; and play the man. We shall this day, by God's grace, light up such a candle in England, as I trust, will never be put out."

When Dr. Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried with a wonderful loud voice, "Lord, Lord, receive my spirit." Master Latimer, crying as vehemently on the other side, "O Father of heaven, receive my soul!" received the flame as it were embracing of it. After that he had stroked his face with his hands, and as it were, bathed them a little in the fire, he soon died (as it appeareth) with very little pain or none.

Well! dead they are, and the reward of this world they have already. What reward remaineth for them in heaven, the day of the Lord's glory, when he cometh with His saints, shall declare.
Thomas Cranmer's Recantacyons sermon before his execution:
Every man desireth, good people, at the time of their deaths, to give some good exhortation that others may remember after their deaths, and be the better thereby. So I beseech God grant me grace, that I may speak something at this my departing, whereby God may be glorified and you edified.

First, it is an heavy case to see that many folks be so much doted upon the love of this false world, and so careful for it, that for the love of God, or the love of the world to come, they seem to care very little or nothing therefore. This shall be my first exhortation: That you set not overmuch by this false glosing world, but upon God and the world to come. And learn to know what this lesson meaneth, which St John teacheth, that the love of this world is hatred against God.

The second exhortation is, that next unto God, you obey your king and queen, willingly and gladly, without murmur and grudging. And not for fear of them only, but much more for the fear of God: Knowing, that they be God's ministers, appointed by God to rule and govern you. And therefore whoso resisteth them, resisteth God's ordinance.

The third exhortation is, that you love all together like brethren and sisters. For alas, pity it is to see, what contention and hatred one Christian man hath to another; not taking each other, as sisters and brothers; but rather as strangers and mortal enemies. But I pray you learn and bear well away this one lesson, To do good to all men as much as in you lieth, and to hurt no man, no more than you would hurt your own natural and loving brother or sister. For this you may be sure of, that whosoever hateth any person, and goeth about maliciously to hinder or hurt him, surely, and without all doubt, God is not with that man, although he think himself never so much in God's favour.

The fourth exhortation shall be to them that have great substance and riches of this world, that they will well consider and weigh those sayings of the Scripture. One is of our Saviour Christ himself, who saith, It is hard for a rich man to enter into heaven; a sore saying, and yet spoke by him, that knew the truth. The second is of St John, whose saying is this, He that hath the substance of this world, and seeth his brother in necessity, and shutteth up his mercy from him, how can he say, he loveth God?  Much more might I speak of every part; but time sufficeth not. I do but put you in remembrance of things. Let all them that be rich, ponder well those sentences; for if ever they had any occasion to shew their charity, they have now at this present, the poor people being so many, and victuals so dear. For though I have been long in prison, yet I have heard of the great penury of the poor. Consider, that that which is given to the poor is given to God; whom we have not otherwise present corporally with us, but in the poor.

And now forsomuch as I am come to the last end of my life, whereupon hangeth all my life passed, and my life to come, either to live with my Saviour Christ in heaven, in joy, or else to be in pain ever with wicked devils in hell; and I see before mine eyes presently either heaven ready to receive me, or hell ready to swallow me up; I shall therefore declare unto you my very faith, how I believe, without colour or dissimulation. For now is no time to dissemble, whatsoever I have written in times past.

First, I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and every article of the Catholic faith, every word and sentence taught by our Saviour Christ, his Apostles and Prophets, in the Old and New Testament.

And now I come to the great thing that troubleth my conscience more than any other thing that ever I said or did in my life: and that is, the setting abroad of writings contrary to the truth. Which here now I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and writ for fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be: and that is, all such bills, which I have written or signed with mine own hand, since my degradation; wherein I have written many things untrue. And forasmuch as my hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, therefore my hand shall first be punished. For if I may come to the fire, it shall be first burned. And as for the Pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy and antichrist, with all his false doctrine.
An eye-witness account of Cranmer's execution by a Roman Catholic known only as J. A. is here.

Martyrs' Memorial
Intersection of St. Giles', Magdalen Street, and Beaumont Street

THE CHURCH'S NEW BUILDING PROGRAM

There is the story of a preacher who got up one Sunday and announced to his congregation: "I have good news and bad news."

"The good news is, we have plenty enough money to pay for our new building program."

"The bad news is, it's still out there in your pockets."


Cheers,

Paul (A.)

Friday, November 1, 2013

"OTHELLO" AT THE ROYAL NATIONAL THEATRE


Early in my stay in London, Cathy and I attended a performance of Shakespeare's Othello at the Royal National Theatre.  Adrian Lester and Rory Kinnear gave the best live performances of Othello and Iago that I have seen.  Mind, I haven't seen many major live performances of Othello, but of those I have seen, the two actors were the best, truly outstanding.


 The reviewers agree with me, but most do not note the performances of Olivia Vinall and Lyndsey Marshal as Desdemona and Emilia, both of whom I thought were splendid in the supporting roles.  Of the review I read, only London Theatre gives the women a mention.
Messrs Lester and Kinnear really do provide an inspired and mesmerising pairing, but there is plenty of great support especially from Olivia Vinall as a beautifully frail, and innocent Desdemona, and Lyndsey Marshal is extremely impressive as Emilia especially at the end of the play as she becomes both distraught and enraged when her mistress is killed.
Indeed!

We had dinner with friends in the Mezzanine Restaurant in the theater before the play for an altogether enjoyable evening.

Image of the theatre from Wikipedia.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

BLEEDING HEARTS

Bleeding heart

Bleeding Hearts

On the neglected left side of the house
far from the showy beds of peonies
and iris, gladiolus and lilies,
the perennial drip of white from rose
valentine-ish hearts went on, undisturbed
by a lack of attention, unperturbed
by cuttings, divisions, replanting fuss
or the disdain of annuals primping
for a one-vase-stand, post-teatime limping,
they simply bloomed and bloomed, standing guard each
Spring over the hens and chicks once planted
at their feet to crowd out all unwanted
competition, avoid future weeding,
like delicate strings of paper lanterns,
soft pink light crucial to growing patterns
of the Sempervivum (always alive,
Latin for that common succulent flock,
ignored, but there, steady as the tick-tock
of purpose just beyond the grasp of men
yearning for control they only know how
to abuse in the shady here and now),
accident or plan, gentle harmony.
Whose hand was it first rent the innocent
pendant to make it bleed? By whose judgment
is sympathy unwarranted, wasted,
an inclination to compassion ruled
a shameful fault of the easily fooled?
Assumed dominion of a third party
cannot prevent the blamed from turning feral
when life requires freedom ephemeral.
Neither flower nor heart, no permission
needed to care about the neglected,
no emotion spare, unearned, rejected.

(Marthe G. Walsh)
Sempervivum or houseleek

A lovely poem by my friend Marthe.

Images from Wikipedia here and here.

HOME AGAIN FROM ENGLAND

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig. No pig. Slept a good sleep in my own wonderful bed, but I'm still beyond tired and beyond busy, so not much time for blogging yet. Thanks for all the prayers and good wishes.

I just talked to my daughter, and she was amazed at the hospitality extended to me while I was in England. "You are so lucky to know people like that!" Yes, I am and I'm still awestruck at the generous hospitality of so many lovely people.

I think I may never get on a plane to go anywhere again. If I can't go by car or by train, as a friend suggested, I won't go. Jet Blue and British Airways were both very good, but Southwest.... And the airports are all terrible places.

Later, my sweets.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

INCREDIBLE?



If you hadn't seen it, would you believe it?  An informed citizenry...not.

ITALIAN MEN..

ITALIAN MEN CAN MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A WOMAN...

On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm.

The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it. Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane.

'I'm too young to die', she wails. Then she yells, 'Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be memorable! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?

For a moment there is silence.. Everyone has forgotten their own peril. They all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane.

Then an Italian man stands up in the rear of the plane. He is handsome, tall, well built, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time...

No one moves ... He removes his shirt... Muscles ripple across his chest, she gasps...

And he says...

"Here! Iron this, and get me something to eat."
Thanks to a "friend".

READY TO GO

Penzance in Cornwall, UK

The process of clothing elimination happened yesterday as I packed for my trip to England. I so wanted to take my dress boots, but they are made for walking only short distances. For walking long distances, only trainers work, so my black trainers will have to do for dress shoes. What does it matter? The last time I heard an opera at Covent Garden, I wore jeans and WHITE trainers, due to a miscalculation in time allowing for change. The visit included dinner at the elegant restaurant at the Royal Opera House. Humiliation past and gone and not so very bad after all. "Madame Butterfly" was gorgeous, and I enjoyed every minute, despite attire in jeans and WHITE trainers.  Where will I go that will be dressier than Covent Garden? I've already been there dressed down, way down, so no worries about dress.

I carry a small, folding umbrella in my car, which I was going to pack for rainy days in England, but when I opened it, I saw "Chevrolet Truck" emblazoned in gold on the black umbrella. Then I remembered that it came with Grandpère's truck, and he gave it to me, so I bought another. The Chevrolet umbrella is fine for here in town, but it was not quite the note I wanted to strike in England.
 

Next week, the temperature in London will rise to 70°F. Also, the long range predictions for Cornwall and Copenhagen don't bode for cold weather. Looking good.

I leave my house early tomorrow morning to begin my travels, and I will have access to the internet only through Cathy's notebook, mostly for emailing my family.  Probably, no blogging while I'm away, but I'll have lots of news and pictures when I return.