The Pensive Pilgrim

I've been involved in a number of discussions in Social Media recently (some of them, it must be said, quite heated) regarding clerical vesture and liturgical practice. Readers won't be at-all surprised to hear that the various forums for these discussions were all of an 'Anglo-Catholic' hue.   In the course of one particular exchange, I was informed that I am (I quote) "A typical 'Boomer'". Well I've been called much worse than that in my time. 'Boomer' I must accept in terms of my vintage, although I have to say 'typical' stings a bit!  I guess, however, that we are all products of our time - and this is as true of clergy and our approach to liturgy as it is of anyone else.  It was in my late teens that I discovered Anglo-Catholicism. At that time in my local parish church, Mass was celebrated 'ad orientem' (eastward facing) at a high altar which stood proudly at the top of several steps in a distant chancel. I loved the s

I recently watched the livestream of this year's Assumption-Tide Procession at All Saints Margaret Street, London's best known  Anglo-Catholic 'shrine' just off Oxford Street.  As always - and in common with its sister, the annual Corpus Christi Procession - it was a colourful, moving and brilliantly choreographed event, and I was left wishing that I could have been there.  As the vast procession made its way along the streets of London's West End, incense billowing, candles flickering, Our Lady of Walsingham wobbling slightly on her litter from time to time as those responsible for carrying her expertly navigated kerbs and potholes and avoided banana-skins (and worse), as clergy modelled varying degrees of lace (from the tasteful to the absurd) everyone lustily sang a variety of hymns from much loved esoteric Marian devotions to what was once regarded as a 'ranter' for evangelical use only, 'To God be the Glory'.  This was surely Anglo-Catholicism a

Sermon preached at the Parish Mass, S t Matthew's Perry Beeches, Sunday 4th August Some words of St Paul from this morning’s second reading: I, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 3:14-21) On the evening of Wednesday 24 th July, a major service was held in the parish church of St Helen, Bishopsgate, London. St Helen’s is well-known as a stronghold of conservative evangelicalism. It attracts a large, predominantly wealthy, middle-class congregation. Its clergy eschew the ‘cool’ look of tee-shirt and chinos popular with so many of their evangelical colleagues and instead wear expensive suits and posh silk ties. The service that took place on the 24 th July was no ordinary service,   indeed it was a profoundly significant event not only for tho

In the 1970s, the progressive rock/folk group 'Magna Carta', led by my friend Chris Simpson, produced the album 'Lord of the Ages', which included the song 'Father John', which Chris said was based on an anonymous priest friend of his. It was a rather haunting, melancholic number, and here are the lyrics:    Slowly steals the dawn in a grey December way Tired night has closed her eyes to say "Oh let all the world be light Each darkened room till I return" Father John wakes early Dons a faded robe, breathes a prayer Then hurries where the air is cold It's Sunday come round again Maybe one face more or less in church today Oh can't you see, Father John? Oh can't you see, Father John? Miss Pringle and Miss Prendergast And George who does the brass are there To say the words they've said for twenty years And no one knows or cares Safe in the security of things they see and want to be Believing is a word for growing old Oh can't you see,

Advent will soon be upon us, and there is a tradition that over the four Sundays of this season,  preachers turn their attention to the 'Four Last Things' - Death, Judgement, Heaven and Hell.  Whether by design or coincidence, today's edition of The Church Times carries a feature headed "The British turn their backs on funerals" which clearly links with the first of these 'last things'.   It seems that in a recent survey commissioned by the think tank Theos, only 47% of respondents said that they would like a funeral,  24% said that they definitely didn't want a funeral while 28% were undecided.  So far as I'm aware, the survey didn't ask the participants how they felt about being asked these questions in the first place, but I suspect a very large percentage would say that they would have preferred not to have to think about such things. If the British are indeed turning their backs on funerals, I suspect it's because in reality they'r

 "I don't mind you going, but don't you dare come back with any fancy ideas." So said my Vicar when I, as a young member of his congregation, told him that I was planning to join the parish pilgrimage to the Shrine of our Lady of Walsingham.  The pilgrimage itself was, I suppose. something of an act of rebellion. Although the parish had a strong Anglo-Catholic tradition, it's fair to say that at this particular point in its history (the early 1980s) it was rather more 'High Church' than 'Catholic' (though it has since moved back 'up the candle'), and our Vicar - a very dour Yorkshireman - was clearly not an enthusiastic devotee of  Our Lady, still less 'England's Nazareth'.  It was a couple of members of the congregation who bravely organised and led the Pilgrimage, despite the incumbent's obvious disapproval, and I remain eternally grateful to them. That first weekend visit to Walsingham introduced me to the Catholic faith