Friday 30 March 2012

Long before Aled Jones: the first Songs of Praise



"Sing to us," they said, "One of Sion's songs"  (Psalm 136)


I've recently acquired a beautiful little book, the Grail translation of the Psalter, the Book of Psalms. The Psalter is the prayerbook of the Israelites, comprised of one hundred and fifty psalms. For those unfamiliar with the Psalms, they are a treasury of the hopes and fears, successes and disappointments, loves and losses of the people of Israel. The Book of Psalms is one of the greatest collections of songs and prayers, expressing the realm of the passions of humanity. Subsequently, Psalms have been used through the ages as Christian expressions of joy and in crisis.
The Psalms are sheer poetry: not cold, reasoned prose but deeply emotional works which use dramatic language and emphatic figures of speech. I find the Grail translation particularly accessible whilst still being incredibly vivid and melodic. Unlike most conventional and certainly traditional English poetry, Hebrew poems were not dependent on rhyme. Rhythm and balance provide the structure, consisting of a regular number of stress-beats per line. Some of these rhythms are adaptable to particular types of songs. The Psalms were written for singing and were intended for public worship in the Temple: singing, dancing and music were essential elements of the liturgy of the Hebrew Temple. The word psalm from the early Rabbinic Hebrew means "song of praise"; in ancient Greek, psalmo is "song for the lyre or harp." Another feature of their structure is the parallelism of the lines: ideas may be expressed once positively, then again negatively, or vice versa: "Even darkness is not dark for you, and the night is as clear as the day."
The imagery of the Grail translation is strikingly evocative of nature and the landscape of Palestine: the dry, thirsty land and the life-giving water; the fertility of the vineyards and olive groves; God is the rock, as a refuge or a stronghold. God's omnipresence is in nature; He is the thunder, the lightning and the earthquake. The God of the Israelites is a majestic warrior-king, but also a powerful and protective Father.
The Psalms are historically attributed to King David, held to be the founder of the Temple Liturgy. Subsequently, many of the Psalms have been prefaced by a title relating to a significant event or period in David's life. Historically, David was the second king of the United Kingdom of Israel, having ruled over both Israel and Judah. His life is traditionally dated to 1040 - 970 BC. Although not infallible, he's depicted as a righteous king, an acclaimed warrior, and skilled musician, and poet. The actual composition of the Book of Psalms spans more than a thousand years and cannot simply be limited to David himself.  Some of the earliest Psalms may have been written by Moses, predating David by five centuries. David's son, King Solomon, may have followed in his father's footsteps by writing some of the Psalms, as well as the Book of Proverbs. There are some which appear to based on ancient Canaanite hymns, retaining the essence of the Canaan religion which predates the Israelites. Some sing of the triumphs of the monarchy in Jerusalem, some lament captivity in Babylon. Others celebrate Israelite festivals in Jerusalem, national victories and the hand of God in the history of Israel. And some poignantly plead for deliverance from trials and tribulations.
The Psalms have been used throughout Christianity: they would have been part of the daily prayers of Jesus, his mother Mary and the disciples. According to the Gospels, Jesus quotes the Psalms to demonstrate his fulfilment of scripture. Used for centuries in monastic and priestly prayer, a quotation from the Psalms is always used as the response to the first of the Readings at Mass. Originally translated from Hebrew into Greek centuries later, interpretation has joined some of the Hebrew poems together and split others into separate ones. Generally, this means that the numbering in Hebrew is one higher than in Greek. The Roman Catholic liturgy traditionally preserves the Greek numbering, but modern Catholic translation often defers to the Hebrew system. Many manuscripts now also include a Psalm 151, after a Hebrew version of this poem was found among the Dead Sea Scrolls. The Psalms are presented in a different order there, also containing a number of non-canonical poems and hymns in the same style as the Psalms. Psalm 119 is the longest of the poems, composed of 176 verses; it's also the longest chapter in the Bible. The shortest chapter of the Bible (and the shortest Psalm), is Psalm 117.
The most faithful use of the Psalms is probably as a beautiful prayer-history of Israel, reflecting God's guidance and love for His people. Some Psalms began as private devotions while others were purpose-writ for public worship. Ultimately, the Psalms are addressed to God or lead to the worship of God.  But they're also perfect for personal meditation and affirmation; whether you're Christian or not, the Psalms are wonderfully lyrical and uplifting.



Psalm 14 (15) "Moral Code of a Good Man"
Lord who shall be admitted to your tent
and dwell on your holy mountain?
He who walks without fault;
he who acts without justice
and speaks the truth from his heart;
he who does not slander with his tongue;
he who does no wrong to his brother,
who casts no slur on his neighbour,
who holds the godless in disdain,
but honours those who fear the Lord;
he who keeps his pledge, come what may;
who takes no interest on a loan
and accepts no bribes against the innocent.
Such a man will stand firm for ever.

Psalm 120 (121)  "God the Protector: A Pilgrimage Song"
I lift up my eyes to the mountains:
from where shall come my help?
My help shall come from the Lord
who made heaven and earth.
May he never allow you to stumble!
No, he sleeps not nor slumbers,
Israel's guard.
The Lord is your guard and your shade:
at your right side he stands.
By day the sun shall not smite you
nor the moon in the night.
The Lord will guard you from evil,
he will guard your soul.
The Lord will guard your going and coming
both now and for ever.



"The Lord is My Shepherd"  The Choir of Wells Cathedral
"Turn, Turn, Turn (To Everything There is a Season)"  The Byrds
"By the Rivers of Babylon"  The Melodians


"He who sits in the heavens laughs"  (Psalm 2)

Wednesday 28 March 2012

Demographics



"Terra Nova"


"Terra Nova"
There is a landscape on my skin,
unmapped, with unmarked borders;
if you cross them
off the beaten track,
I shall find myself
disoriented
and unprepared for open country.
Although you offer shelter,
this terrain is undeclared.

                                                          Gigi



Tuesday 27 March 2012

Blood and Soil: Nationality

"Our true Nationality is Mankind"
HG Wells

It's often said that you can choose your friends but not your family. I would go further still: your truest friends become family. By this token, surely a man's nationality has far more to do with a feeling of personal allegiance and belonging than with the stamp on his birth certificate or passport? Since writing about Irishness around St Patrick's Day, I've been considering what is formally implied by nationality, and what the word might evoke for you and me.
My brother-in-law and I are polar opposites politically. I know he likes to wind me up about things I'm passionate about: I suppose I would think something was very wrong if he suddenly started to sing from my hymnbook. Recently we've crossed words on the subject of nationality. My brother-in-law is a Yorkshireman who would possibly make his home county a republic if he could. Years of living and working overseas have done little to dull his Northern accent and I believe he still thinks Britain has an empire. He would prefer his nationality to read as English, rather than British. I've told him that I respond very little to the nationality on my passport: it simply relates to the place of my birth. I have always felt part Irish and part Belgian. The Irish part is not further dissected into northern or southern for me, yet the Belgian side is strongly Walloon (French). Absence has failed to dilute my brother-in-law's sense of belonging; and I can easily empathise with this view, although I'm be looking through the opposite end of the telescope.
I believe I've inherited the strongest ideals, fears and passions of my parents and their ancestors; including people I never knew. That's what I believe runs through my veins. There is no English blood there, yet I don't feel "foreign" or "estranged". Born in south London, I will always have an affection for the region: my childhood memories and significant people and places are still stitched to that backcloth. But in Brighton, I feel I've found a home: beyond the obvious bricks and mortar and roof tiles. In an area where I knew no-one and have no family links or formative memories, I feel I've found a place which will nurture my future. The Brighton I live in is far from glamorous: employment, always seasonal, could now be described as rare. Property prices are high and living costs roughly the same as in the capital, but the average wage in Brighton is currently several thousand pounds a year less than the National Average Wage. Previously grand period houses sit derelict while homelessness becomes more visible in every quarter of the city. It doesn't take much for traditional British seaside-glamour to become rundown and seedy. But I love it here. It doesn't feel as though I've started a new life here as much as just woken up to who am and where. When I visit London I feel like a fish out of water. Here, I feel that I might find just the right size pond for myself.


My passport says I'm British: I feel I'm the blend of my parents' and of my own encounters on my way to Here. I understand what it means to be European; I'm choosing stay with Britain because of familiarity and fondness, and Brighton has become my new hometown. Other places around the world have touched me and maybe more will in the future: I haven't had a chance to revisit Australia for a few years now, but a particular shot of Mrs Macquarie's Point or the streets of Paddington in Sydney can move me to tears. Places can be great loves as much as people. And no matter where you originated from, have emigrated to or gained citizenship of, ideally you should be able to belong to and take pride in that country, county, town or community that moves you. "Belonging" can be as broad or is intrinsically intimate as you need it to be.
Traditionally, nationality has been based on "Jus Soli", right of the soil or territory, or on "Jus Sanguinis", right of blood; or a mixture of both. Jus Soli grants nationality by place of birth; Jus Sanguinis, by virtue of where one or both parents were born. The textbooks will confirm that nationality is the status of belonging to a nation by origin, birth, or naturalisation. I understand naturalisation by experience: my father lived and worked in England for more than fifteen years to attain British nationality by naturalisation. Following World War II, the huge rise in population due to globalisation and the sharp increase in numbers of refugees suddenly created a class of stateless persons. My mother and father referred to them respectfully as "displaced". Naturalisation laws were created because recovering western democracies were simply not equipped or prepared to accommodate massive de-nationalisation, nor the mass expulsion of ethnic minorities from newly created states. My father's situation wasn't quite as dramatic: he held a Belgian passport and found work in Britain interpreting and translating for consuls and embassies; he also taught French and English. He was informed that his professional status and reputation could only benefit from his naturalisation. In fact, my Dad worked constantly while I was growing up and he achieved British nationality only the year before he died, aged fifty nine. His accent was as strong as ever, and his professional reputation was such that Mum was still receiving letters of condolences from overseas students and ambassadors two or three years after he died.
My sister was born in Belgium and spoke nothing but French until she landed in South London at the grand age of seven. Her nationality was given as Belgian, although I assume she was included on our mother's British passport at that age; even though Mum would have argued that she herself was Irish! When my sister was over the age of twenty one, she was offered dual nationality - she promptly chose British sole nationality. My sister seems to have shed her Belgian skin quickly and easily: by the time I was born, she had forgotten her first language completely; by her own admission, she cannot master French to this day. Forever bonded by good, loving parents, we are very different. My sister is quintessentially English, rarely even expanding to call herself British. She doesn't share my interest in Belgian politics or Irish folklore, and I feel the absence of that. Yet her identity is strongly self-determined.
Paradoxically, I may not feel innately British, but my own nationality is qualified by both Jus Soli and Jus Sanguinis; I was born in Britain and at that time, one of my parents was defined as British in her passport. In fact, my mother always maintained that she was Irish by birth and I would never refer to her as Northern Irish. When Mum was born, in the north of Ireland, Britain hadn't yet claimed six counties; Ireland hadn't agreed the treaty that effectively created Northern Ireland. I don't wish to get too political here, but I feel this scenario illustrates the complexity of nationality. Incidentally, having already touched on the enigma of Irishness elsewhere on this blog, my Catholic cousins and their Protestant spouses in that region refer to themselves and each other simply as Irish.


Nationality can be defined as being part of a nation: a collective of people sharing a national identity. Recognised forms of belonging can be based on ethnic and cultural similarities and ties; including self-determined ones, if a nation has no state, such as the Scots, the Tamils, the Basques. In the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article 15 states that "Everyone has the right to a nationality - No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality." But what if someone doesn't particularly want to be restricted to one? In some cases, over-riding a state's law, determination of nationality can be governed by Public International Law applying treaties on statelessness and by the European Convention on Nationality. As Swiss-born poet and philosopher Henri Frederic Amiel said: "If nationality is consent, the state is compulsion". His own family were driven from their native France into Switzerland within the expulsion of Huguenot Protestants. It seems that religion and nationality can be uneasy bedfellows, yet inexorably linked.
Technically, Judaism is not a race because Jews do not share one common ancestry: some Jews hail from Europe, others from the Middle East. People of many races have become Jewish over the centuries. So, although Judaism is a cultural as well as a religious identity, Jewish nationality has been dispersed throughout the world for two thousand years. Yet the country of Israel is seen to be the Jewish homeland, and "being Jewish" certainly means you are part of the Jewish people, whether you were born into a culturally Jewish home, or because you choose to practise the Jewish religion. Jewish identity is automatically bestowed on babies of Jewish mothers according to Orthodox Judaism, and of Jewish mothers or fathers according to Reform Judaism. This Jewish identity can endure throughout life even if someone subsequently doesn't practise Judaism as a religion. Still with moi??
Jewish ethnicity, nationality, religion and culture are clearly strongly interrelated: definition of Jewishness can be based on nationality or religion. As the only faith of the Jewish nation, converts to Judaism hold the same status as Jews by birth within the Jewish ethnos, traditionally absorbed into the Jewish people. In 2010, the Jewish population was estimated at more than thirteen million across the world. It's estimated that only about forty percent of the global Jewish population live in Israel. Judaism literally means of the land of Judah, and all Jews are said to be descended from the Israelites. In fact, most Jewish people have lived in diaspora since the legendary destruction of the First Temple, in the sixth century before Christ. Israel aside, they've formed a minority in every country they've lived in. Throughout Jewish history, Jews have been repeatedly expelled from their original homeland and areas they've settled in; from the Roman Empire, through the Crusades, to the dreadful Holocaust of World War II. During that state-organised persecution and systematic genocide, six million European Jews were slaughtered, for being Jewish.
Israel was established as an independent, democratic Jewish state in May 1948. In the following ten years, the Jewish population rose from 800,000 to two million. There was a mass immigration of Jews who survived the Holocaust and those subsequently fleeing from Arab countries, Ethiopia and the collapse of the Soviet Union. Apart from the West Bank area over the river Jordan, modern Israel is roughly located on the site of the kingdoms of the ancient Israelites and Judah, later Palestine. This area is historically the birthplace of Christianity and Judaism, also sacred to Islam. World War II had left the surviving European Jews in as displaced persons and refugees; miserably, many were then held in internment camps organised by Britain and other powers. More than ninety percent of these Jewish refugees asked to live in their own state, in the region of Palestine. The Jewish people believe this land was promised to the patriarchs of their faith by God Himself. In response to the crisis, the United Nations recommended partitioning Palestine, with land given over to form a new Jewish nation. Obviously, Palestinian born Arabs would not be happy with this; neighbouring Arab states tried to invade the day after the state of Israel was declared. In 1950, citing Jus Sanguinis, the Law of Return granted all Jews protected and immediate citizenship of Israel if they wanted it. More than sixty turbulent years later, the West Bank and Gaza Strip have been declared Palestinian Territories since 1988, although this identity remains unrecognised by the United Nations and a quarter of the world's countries, including Israel and the United States.
National identity can be a glorious and unifying thing; disputed or mistaken identity of land or boundaries can be ugly, destructive and unending.
Friedrich Johann Schiller was another (German-born) poet and philosopher; he wrote that "It's not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons." Sometimes bonds form inexplicably but seemingly inevitably, with places as much as people. He also expressed his idea of Utopia as somewhere where everyone could be content and everything could be found beautiful. Sadly, no passport stamp will ever read "Utopia", but it may be sought by or carried within every human being. Nationality is not purely ancestry or heritage, DNA, religious or social allegiance, blood or soil: it can be any or all of these things. Ideally, it is "home is where the heart is" on the largest and yet most personal scale. So spare a thought for those who feel they must leave everything familiar to them to find refuge, social acceptance and financial security. People not welcome in their homeland; evicted by war or nature, displaced by new governments and flags. While some people may emigrate; others simply flee. It's as negligibly easy as it was in the 1930s to blame today's incoming displaced people for the losses and hardships of an established community. For every individual we feel may have played the system like a fiddle, there are so many others whose nationality has been abused or stripped from them. I may not refer to myself as English, but I'm deeply distressed when helpful people suggest I should give up my home in Sussex and look for a good job overseas. I moan that my house is falling down around my ears, but it's still my little haven. To dismantle it and leave it behind would rip the middle out of me. What if you or I had no choice? What if choice was made by a government or a gun?
When I tried to find a suitable piece of music to add to this post about nationality, I found countless beautiful songs, in every genre, praising and idealising particular cities, countries or continents. I found very few which simply evoked a feeling of unmapped belonging; if anyone reading this has suggestions, I would be interested to hear them. If I've offended anyone by saying that I don't readily describe myself as English or British; whatever I think of the bankers, the public sector cuts and the higher tax threshold, I'm totally appreciative that the land I was born in accepts that I call myself half Irish and half Belgian. For that, I am wholly grateful.


"After the spiritual powers, there is no thing in the world more unconquerable than the spirit of nationality."
George William Russell



"This is Your Land"  Simple Minds



"Land" 
(Carol Ann Duffy)
If we were shades
who walked here once
over the heather, over the shining stones,
fresh in our skin and bones
with all of the time to come
left to be us,

if we were dust,
once flesh, where a cloud
swoons on the breast of a hill,
breathing here still
in our countable days,
the words we said,

snagged on the air
like the murmuring bees,
as we lay by the loch,
parting our clothes with our hands
to feel who we were,
we would rather be there

than where we are here,
all that was due to us
still up ahead,
if we were shades or dust
who lived love
before we were long dead.






Friday 23 March 2012

Here's to those who turn Concern into Action


I'm now a proud member of the Catholic Women's League; the Guest Speaker at our March monthly meeting was Tom Turnbull, president of the Lymington branch of  the St Vincent De Paul Society. He's also married to Ellen, longstanding and formidable Catholic Women's League member. A wonderfully warm and devoted couple, they celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary earlier this month. I really appreciate their friendship and I believe people like Ellen and Tom enrich other people's lives by association! Tom's been a member of the St Vincent De Paul Society for a staggering fifty six years and he spoke about the history of the Society and his own involvement with humour and affection. I've wanted to know more about the Society for a while now: my late Mum was a fan of both the CWL and the SVP. She and my Dad came to London from his native Belgium with suitcases and one young daughter (my sister - I was still a twinkle who would take another two years to materialise and start bawling for food).  They literally had nothing as my father set about finding work; the CWL offered my mother friendship and support, and the SVP literally furnished their flat and dressed my sister for school. The baby bath  that I feature in in so many embarrassing "fat baby" photographs came courtesy of the SVP.  Almost traditionally, I've given unwanted bric-a-brac and clothes to my local SVP shop in Brighton - and found some very pretty summer dresses in there. Yet I'd known very little about formation of the Society and their work, which stretches far beyond the high street. Today, the SVP is an international Christian voluntary organisation dedicated to tackling poverty and disadvantage by providing direct practical assistance.

"In my life I want to become better and do a little good"
Blessed Frederic Ozanam - SVP Founder
The Society was founded in post-Revolution Paris in the spring of 1833 by a group of idealistic Catholic students at the Sorbonne. They were led by Antoine Frederic Ozanam, known as Frederic; the privileged son of a Milanese doctor and a silk heiress. A gifted scholar, he would later become professor of law at the University of Lyon and professor of foreign literature at the Sorbonne. He urged the young students to put their faith into action by providing direct help to the poor, in the image of Christ.  Frederic had already taken up journalism and frequently contributed to the "Tribune Catholique", a French Roman Catholic daily newspaper run by established journalist Emmanuel Baily. Both Baily and the newspaper took a strongly ultramontane stance, emphasising papal authority over any temporal hierarchies; a courageous position in 19th century France. There were frequent violent clashes between the working classes and the powerful; cholera was prevalent and dead bodies often lay decaying in the streets.The young men were spurred on by their association with the older Baily, and were further inspired by the support of the Daughters of Charity; the distinctively cornetted "butterfly" nuns founded by St Vincent De Paul. Sister Superior of the order, Rosalie Rendu was a particular help to them: she had already opened a free clinic, a school, an orphanage, a mother and child care centre, and a home for the elderly.
With Sister Rosalie's assistance, the young companions made their first contact with the poor. Her good work made her a household name and the new group initially gained respect because of their association with her. Dedicated to caring for both the temporal welfare as well as the spiritual needs of disadvantaged and marginalised people, the new Conference of Charity was born. Inspired by the dedication of missionary priest St Vincent, also the founder of the Vincentian Fathers, the group later adopted his name as well as his principles. Vincent De Paul was a Catholic priest, born to a peasant family in 1581 in Gascony, France. Aged 24, whilst travelling home from a visit to Marseilles, he was taken captive by Turkish pirates. Like St Patrick, he was sold into slavery, in Tunis. Due to his devout faith and eloquence, he was able to escape after converting his master to Christianity. He returned to France with a renewed compassion and sense of purpose, devoting the rest of his life to those most deprived in society, living and working among them. His conviction was: “If you visit the poor ten times a day, ten times a day you will find God there." He was canonised in 1737 in recognition of his dedication.





Initially, regional chapters were formed across France, each area group known as a "conference". In 1844, the first SVP conference was formed in England and Wales. In 1860, Cardinal Wiseman, the first Archbishop of Westminster, commissioned the SVP to publish a Catholic newspaper, a successor to the "Tribune Catholique". Catholic weekly "The Universe" has been in publication ever since and remains the best selling Catholic newspaper in the UK and Ireland. The SVP grew from strength to strength and is now active in more than 148 countries; global membership has swelled to around 600,000. Today, there are more than 1,000 conferences across England and Wales, with a membership of over 10,000. Conferences are often based in local parishes and schools. The first women's conference was formed in 1962: initially there were only single-sex conferences. In 1967, the first aggregated mixed conference was held in England and Wales. Nowadays, woman account for more than half of all members; and membership is granted irrespective of gender, race, ideology, age and background. Fittingly for a charitable organisation founded on youthful vigour and enthusiasm, there are now Youth Conferences, some linked to universities. In 2010 there were approximately 2,500 young SVP members working in the community. An annual camp, Camp Vincent, supports them in their development, as well as a variety of regional events.
Having joined the SVP in Peterlee in his native County Durham, Tom spoke movingly of his involvement with under-privileged families. He was often aided and abetted by Ellen, who would learn of family hardship at the school gates and discreetly pass contact details on to her husband. This kind of family-based contact may well have been how my Mum and Dad were initially assisted by the SVP in south London. The Society still offers practical help with furniture, soup runs and Christmas parcels, as well as non-judgemental debt counselling and benefits advice. The reasons for people's financial difficulty may be varied and more complex these days, and specific training is available to members to ensure that people are empowered to change their situation, without creating dependency. The SVP aims to help anyone in need if it is within the membership’s capability to do so, always maintaining dignity and confidentiality.
The core work of the Society remains the commitment to visit and befriend the lonely and isolated: offenders and hospital patients who may have no other visitors; those who are elderly and disabled; those struggling with addictions. The unique character of the SVP is founded on forging valuable relationships based on trust and friendship through regular visits with personalised care.  Support may extend from sharing a chat over a cuppa to shopping, DIY and gardening, completing official forms and correspondence. Visiting prisoners is precious, specialist work. Tom was a regular prison visitor, but it is also possible to visit an individual prisoner at their request. Visits are also made to prisoners' families and childcare is provided to help prisoners' relatives visit them. Many SVP visitors assist the prison chaplains in their work.

The Society's furniture projects, so essential in ration-book Britain, are as well used and much loved during these times of recession. The SVP runs several furniture projects across England and Wales, including three in the Arundel and Brighton area, providing free furniture to those in need. The furniture projects collect as well as deliver: please bear this in mind when you upgrade your bed or sofa, or inherit auntie's "hideous" chairs or crockery. Around 5,000 individuals and families received essential household ware last year; other fat babies still need baby baths as much as I did. There are currently more than thirty SVP shops across the UK, including Brighton's local friendly emporium on the Lewes Road. The shops are generally situated in deprived areas, providing low cost clothing and household goods. The SVP staff also still provide a listening ear; passing on contact information and arranging visits in the Society's tradition.
Tom explained how the Society extends care across the ages, running holiday camps for disadvantaged children, providing caravans in the UK at various locations and a family holiday centre in north Wales. Meanwhile, there are sad reports from Ireland that requests for the SVP to cover funeral costs have risen by fifty percent; the Society also offers support with bereavement and a caring presence at funeral services if required.
Tom's Lymington SVP Conference was formed six and a half years ago and is twined with a conference in India. An annual international Day of Recollection is held on 27 September, the feast of St Vincent De Paul; the SVP motto "Turning concern into action" remains strong and constant. The aim of the Society is the same today as it was at its conception in the 19th Century: to tackle poverty in all its forms. M. Ozanam died of consumption in 1853 at the age of forty and was beatified by Pope John Paul II in 1997. The Blessed Frederic Ozanam would be proud of The Society of St Vincent De Paul at work in the world today and of the people it inspires, such as Ellen and Tom.

"May we carry gifts to the poor; and to the rich, words of gratitude"
Blessed Frederic Ozanam - SVP Founder
Photo: Tom and Ellen family album
 My lovely friends Ellen and Tom, celebrating 50 years of happy marriage this year and a shared commitment to The Society of St Vincent De Paul.


"If I Can Help Somebody"  The Statesmen

Wednesday 21 March 2012

"Sing, Dance, Praise, Love"


Thank you to my lovely friend Cat for sending me St Teresa of Avila's prayer for inner peace on a rather stressful Wednesday afternoon

St Teresa's Prayer

May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you
are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite
possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received,
and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing,
dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.






"Primavera" Ludovico Einaudi

Monday 19 March 2012

Unveiling Egypt's new shame


"Any woman who chooses to behave like a full human being should be warned that the armies of the status quo will treat her as something of a dirty joke. That's their natural and first weapon"
"The authority of any government must stop at it's people's skin"
(both Gloria Steinem)


Thank God you are not an Egyptian woman with a heart and brain who also wants to have a voice in her country today.
Earlier this month, an Egyptian military court acquitted an army doctor charged with carrying out a forced virginity test on a female detainee during last year's civil protests. Samira Ibrahim, a twenty four year old political activist, said she was forced to undergo a test last March. Hers and other similar cases have enraged dissenters against the generals who took control of Egypt when Hosni Mubarak was driven from office in February 2011, after what was called a popular uprising. Samira was one of seven women who said they had been forced to undergo such humiliating tests to determine if they were virgins while in detention. She received a sentence of a one year suspended custodial term for insulting the authorities, joining in an illegal assembly and breaking the curfew.
On 9th March 2011, Samira decided to participate in a sit-in in Tahrir Square, Cairo. Military police evacuated the square, violently dispersing protesters. Samira was detained, along with a number of other women who had been at the demonstration. They allege they were beaten, given electric shocks, strip-searched and said they were forced to undergo virginity tests while being exposed, insulted and video-taped. Dr Ahmed Adel, an army conscript, was acquitted of testing Ibrahim against her will. The court has claimed the ruling was issued due to conflicting witness accounts. He had been accused of public indecency after an initial charge of rape was dropped. The defendant's lawyer told reporters that the case wasn't initially strong and had only been enabled to be brought due to international media pressure. Indeed, getting the case into court in the first place could be considered a victory for the female protesters: it raised hopes for the further trials of those accused of the abuse. Before the hearing, Amnesty International said the court’s decision would “show if Egypt’s military courts are prepared to offer any redress for female victims of violence by the army.” Amnesty's Middle East and North Africa Director,  Hassiba Hadj Sahraoui said that "Ever since this unacceptable episode, which is nothing less than torture, women protesters have repeatedly faced beatings, torture and other ill-treatment at the hands of Egypt’s army and security forces.” The revealed army practice had sparked a national outcry last year and naturally stained the reputation of the governing militia. Public outrage and disgust increased after a general was quoted by CNN, saying tests were carried out to prove the women were not virgins when they were detained, so they could not say they were raped in detention. A spokesman for the Egyptian army subsequently denied the comment.
Infinitely more surprising than an Egyptian military tribunal finding one of its own not guilty, is that the case went ahead at all. Samira was incredibly brave to take on not only Egypt's masculine leadership but also her country's deeply ingrained, damning attitude toward women. Human Rights activists have stressed that the military rulers have taken full advantage of the nation's oppressive view of female equality. Samira has had to deal with reputation smearing in the Egyptian media, clearly steered by the militia. From the outset of the case, military generals were issuing inflammatory and defamatory statements, saying that the women who joined the protests at Tahrir Square were females of low morals and ill repute. The "virginity tests" themselves were of course an extreme violation of the body and, in a country such as Egypt, the ultimate smearing of a woman's reputation and character. Once the woman has been subjected to such a test, even if previously a virgin, her body has been soiled or even "ruined", her status forever diminished, her self respect destroyed. Every area of her life as a Muslim woman in the Middle East will be impacted. Social analysts have also warned of other consequences of this abuse of female protesters by the forces, saying it may cause national outrage among the Egyptian public, and even a disintegration of society's morals in a nation which has prided itself on it's respect for women. In December, a civilian court ruled that the army should end the practice of virginity tests: a military judicial official then said cases of reported forced virginity tests had been transferred to the Supreme Military Court. The world now realises that this was calculated lip service.

Last week, protesters gathered outside the court, chanting: “We demanded dignity and change. Instead they stripped our girls in Tahrir." This is reference to the particular disrespect and savagery the militia has meted out to young female protesters since last December. The shamelessly brutal way the protesters were dealt with was captured for the World Wide Web, sending shock waves through the international community, along with the sickening images. At least ten protesters have been killed and hundreds wounded in the violence. Earlier this month, one of a group of peaceful protesters outside the cabinet offices was detained to be beaten up by troops. Graphic video footage shows several militia mercilessly attacking the lone, unarmed female, beating her into the ground and then pulling up her clothes and dragging her exposed, dazed and bleeding through the streets. One riot police officer can be seen kicking her savagely in the chest. It's pitiful and disgusting to watch. The troops are reported to have almost routinely stripped female protesters of their headscarves to drag them along the ground by the hair, before kicking them in the head until they lie motionless. The violence alone is staggering, but the additional focused sadism and misogyny have no place in the ranks of those pledged to govern and protect. This kind of behaviour has no defence in Islam, it is not becoming in any soldier; it is an abuse of power and strength that demeans manhood.
The presence of the international media has certainly not discouraged the troops' brutal activity. There are widespread calls for the ruling Supreme Council of the Armed Forces to relinquish control immediately. The SCAF grabbed power following the popular revolution that toppled the former Egyptian dictator Hosni Mubarak last February. Initially, the SCAF promised to hand over to a civilian government as soon as practically possible: of course, they are now refusing to do this. Thousands of Egyptian women had taken part in the eighteen day uprising last year; everything seemed to change from day nineteen. Women were subsequently told by the new regime that similar activism would be seen as opposing Islam and that it would decide when the time would be right to talk about any female agenda. Obviously, this is shockingly disappointing news, particularly as such traditional Egyptian groups as the Muslim Brotherhood have been accepting of women in the public sphere. Protesters now say that the SCAF has simply continued with the ruthless bullying and violent practices of the former regime. There's a new chant now which rings out amongst the protesters, until it's silenced; "This is the army that's protecting us."
And what of brave Samira? Egyptians rallied in Cairo last Friday against the military tribunal ruling and in Samira's support. Hundreds of supporters carried her photo aloft and chanted their support. Her decision to come forward at all, and then to proceed with such a case, has challenged social taboos in the Arab Muslim world, where female victims of sexual abuse can often be vilified and punished, rather than the abusers. Samira has said she intends to bring a lawsuit against the militia in an international court, as she now has little chance of winning an appeal in the Egyptian legal system.
I am determined to prosecute them,” she says, “I will not give up."




"The tyrant is only the slave turned inside out"
(Egyptian proverb)



Sunday 18 March 2012

"May the Lord keep you in the palm of His hand and never close His fist"


"I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many"
("Confessio" St Patrick)

Inescapably, yesterday was St Patrick's Day: his feast day, held on the anniversary of the date of his death. Far from being "despised" as Patrick feared, he is one of the most popular of all the saints, known and loved beyond the lands that popularised him and outside of the Catholic faith. More than any other feast day or even patron saint's day, St Patrick's Day has become not only a focus for national pride for Ireland, but also one of the most inclusive of festivals; a day of celebration and sentimentality across the globe for anyone who's ever possessed an aran knit or Dubliners CD. On the 17th March, people discover their own Irish side. I have an ostensibly non-Irish friend who shares my passion for Celtic music and Irish political history and agrees with me that everyone, somehow, has an Irish grandmother. My father was from Belgian Flanders, yet he became almost more Irish than my Antrim born and bred mother, albeit with a strong Poirot accent. I always tell enquirers that I'm half Irish and half Belgian, with no English blood running between the two: truth be told, I have always felt rather more Irish. My favourite (Irish) auntie used to say I dressed French, but that the clothes hung off Irish bones. It's a staunchly defensive and distinctive culture yet something else; Irishness is a feeling, an emotion. What makes the Irish so damned Irish?
Populated for more than 9,000 years, Ireland has been building a wonderfully storied heritage, with ancestors such as the Nemedians, Fomorlans, and  Milesians. Her turbulent history unfolds with interactions with the Picts, the Scots and Welsh, the Romans, the Bretons, the Gauls, the Vikings, the Normans and Flemish; and of course the English... It's estimated that ten percent of today's global family carry Irish genes, so we may be right about the Irish grandmothers. Irishness seems to have spilled far from the jug, but the essence is remarkably undiluted and unfathomable. Sigmund Freud famously said of the Irish: "This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever." Irish dramatist Brendan Behan went slightly further, stating that while others have a nationality, the Irish have a psychosis. The Irish psyche dose seem to me to be a conundrum. Pagan superstition seems to sit round the fire with fervent Christianity. The Irish excel at both adapting and adopting, but when they react or rebel you will know about it. Portrayed as whimsical and idiosyncratic by themselves no less than others, the Irish are scholars of the ancient and modern world, masters of the written and spoken word. A love of home and kin belies the navigator's soul. Irish waters can run deeper and more still than the ocean, yet the Irish can laugh louder, cry louder and pray louder than anyone else.
On 17th March, you will find a packed Irish bar in most parts of the world; with "The Irish Rover" and "Danny Boy" being slaughtered in various accents, by people who hate the taste of Guinness but are drowning in it because they're two eightieths Irish, on their mother's side. St Patrick's Day is a public holiday, a solemnity and holy day of obligation in Ireland and a day of celebration far and beyond. The Emerald Island of the Caribbean, Montserrat, has appointed St Pat's as a public holiday. Apparently, this is due to the high volume of Irish refugees that came to the island from Nevis and St Kitts. I have no idea how they came to be in Nevis and St Kitts. In Newfoundland and Labrador, St Pat's is a public holiday in memory of a slave uprising in the 1800s. The earliest recorded description of  a St Patrick's Day celebration comes from one Jonathan Swift, himself an Irishman, who mentions a 1713 celebration taking place in London. Westminster Parliament was apparently granted a holiday and some notable city buildings were decorated in green. I don't expect to see the like recur in my lifetime...


Historically, Irish emigration has been caused by famine, strife and economic divisions. Today, the Irish diaspora across the globe may be up to 80 million people, including the UK, the USA, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Argentina, Mexico, Brazil, Chile, Jamaica, Trinidad, France, Germany... It's been said that the first non-indigenous child born on what would become north American soil was of Irish descent on both sides. It's also been said that an Irishman sailing with Christopher Columbus, one William Ayres of Galway, was probably the first European to set foot on American land. However, legendary Irish saint, Brendan The Navigator, he of the fantastical voyages, claimed he actually discovered the continent some eleven centuries earlier, anyhow. In fact, there are now ten times more Irish in the United States of America than in Ireland herself. The annual St Patrick's Day Parade in New York, first documented in 1766, draws around 3 million spectators, with more than 150,000 participants; the parade usually stretches for one and a half miles. Every year, the Irish 165th Infantry marches at the head of the parade as the official escort. In the city of Chicago, the river is turned to green for St Patrick's Day, using forty pounds of dye. Indeed, green is now seen as a hugely favoured colour for the Irish, synonymous with the Emerald Isle and said to be the colour of the patron saint himself. He's often depicted in ornate green gowns. Yet the earliest colour associated with St Patrick was not green at all, but blue. Long ago, the military in Ireland were uniformed proudly in "St Patrick's blue". At one time, the Irish didn't wear green for luck, instead associating it with fairies and the little people: it was the colour of mythical and supernatural creatures, a scared symbol of fertility and  growth. It would have been seen to be tempting fate for a mere mortal to wear it.


 Prominent Irish Nationalist Thomas Davies once defined Irishness: "It is not blood which makes an Irishman but willingness to be part of the Irish nation." Certainly, most of St Patrick's devotees now accept that the man himself was not Irish at all but probably Scottish or Welsh. It's believed that he was kidnapped from the land of his birth by Irish pirates when he was about sixteen and sold into Irish slavery. Traditionally, he tended the land and livestock around the Slemish Mountain, an area better known these days by my cousins as Ballymena, County Antrim. The mountain is actually an extinct volcano, providing dramatic and weather-scarred scenery 1,500 feet above sea level. Captive in this terrain, the teenager found God. Some years later, he escaped and managed to return to his homeland, where he developed his love of the Christian faith. Some historical investigation points to his blood family being associated with the Roman nobility; his own household may well have had slaves. He became a priest, returning to Ireland on God's instruction to reconcile the land of his captivity with his faith. Under the patronage of the Bishop of Auxerre in France, he then took the name of Patricius. The ancient Annals of Ulster suggest he lived between 340 and 460AD, ministering to the peoples of the north of Ireland from around 428. It's certainly widely accepted that he was active as a pioneering missionary in the second half of the fifth century.
There are many legends surrounding St Patrick, from the land of some of the finest story tellers on earth. Did he banish all snakes from Ireland? As with New Zealand and Iceland. there are no fossils or other biological evidence that post-glacial Ireland has ever been home to snakes. Certainly no species has managed to migrate from the UK or farther afield in recent centuries. Ireland does have slow-worms; technically, very slow moving lizards. The story goes that St Patrick was troubled by snakes as he fasted on a forty day retreat on a hilltop. Summoning the snakes with his staff, he drew them to the cliffs and let them drop into the sea. Religious scholars now believe the tale could have symbolic origins: the ancient Druids in Ireland were known to favour tattoos of large snakes on their forearms. St Patrick's expulsion of serpents may be seen as part of his core mission.
The dear little green shamrock has long been associated with St Patrick, and with Ireland itself. It's said that the saint used the little plant whilst preaching to demonstrate the Holy Trinity, the three divine persons in one God. Yet the shamrock was also revered in pre-Christian days in Ireland: it's vivid green colour and distinctive shape represented rebirth and eternal life. The number three was sacred in the pagan religions and the ancient Irish worshipped a number of Triple Goddesses. The most famous of these was Brigit: unlike the Celtic pagan tradition of "maiden, mother, crone" as facets of one entity, Brigit was a set of triplets, self contained in one being and all with the same name. There was Brigit the poet, Brigit the smith, and Brigit the doctor of leechcraft. She was said to be the daughter(s) of  the "Dagda", the good god of all the lands of Ireland. Tradition and history, faith and fable; all seem somehow to merge in one cauldron in Ireland. Brigid, who would become St Brigid of the Catholic Church, was born in County Louth in 453. Her father was a pagan Gaelic chieftain named Dubtach (Duffy) and her mother was a Christian slave, sold soon after Brigid’s birth. Brigid was baptised by Saint Patrick and they became good friends. Even as a child, young Brigid had a calling to care for the poor. Dubthach tried to arrange a marriage for his daughter, but she decided to dedicate her life to God. Together with seven other women she formed the first ever female monastic community in Ireland in 468 at the ripe old age of fifteen. Many believe that Patrick is buried in the Cathedral at Downpatrick, County Down, alongside St Brigid and St Columba, although this has never been verified. It's generally accepted that he had become patron saint of all Ireland by the seventh century, although never formally canonised by any pope.





Some hagiographers of the seventh century paint St Patrick as a martial figure, battling with the Druids and overthrowing pagan gods and practises. Legend holds that he was a forceful evangelist, often thumping the ground with his ash-wood walking staff to drive his sermons home. At the place now known as Aspatria ("ash of Patrick") in Cumbria,  the message took so long to get through that the stick had taken root and started to leaf by the time he was ready to move on. This blend of Celtic and early Christian mysticism with beefy conviction and vigour make St Patrick a totally appealing figure to the Irish. Often depicted as a virile presence and with a fearsome intellect, he's still credited with Ireland's peaceful conversion to Christianity. For a man who traded words in Latin, Gallic and Irish Gaelic, surprisingly little of his writings survive. Accredited to St Patrick, "St Patrick's Breastplate", also known as "The Deer's Cry", is a beautiful but simply worded affirmation of faith. It's said that St Patrick wrote it while camped out on the Hill of  Slane, County Meath, near to Tara, traditionally the secret seat of the ancient kings of all Ireland. Early on in his conversion campaign, possibly 433AD, St Patrick chose to light a large fire on the hill on the eve of the feast of Easter,  which coincides with the Celtic pagan feast of Beltane. At the time, the law of the land stated that no fire should be lit in the vicinity of the great festival fire blazing at the royal seat of power on Tara. This has become known as the first Paschal Fire, Furious, King Laeghaire drove his chariot and army to Slane to arrest the rebel, but St Patrick bravely began to preach to him, as eloquently as only he could. Apparently. the king was not only pacified but enchanted: St Patrick and his party were left unharmed and he was allowed to preach Christianity to the pagan army. The story perfectly illustrates St Patrick's legendary fearless and even foolhardy defence of what is gentle, noble and true. Wherever he was born and whatever colour his cloak, St Patrick was Irish.
Beannachtai.


"May the grass grow long on the road to hell for the want of use"


 
St Patrick's Breastplate (St Patrick)
 I arise today

Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendour of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.
I arise to-day
Through God's strength to pilot me:
God's eyes to look before me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
From all who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in a multitude.
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ when I arise,
Christ to shield me,
Christ in the heart of every one who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every one who speaks of me.
I arise to-day.


"St Patrick's Breastplate / The Deer's Cry"  sung by Angelina