"And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
(John 1:5)
This post is a little late, due to demands of work, but I've felt compelled to complete it. On Good Friday, I attended a beautiful "Tenebrae" service, a Service of Shadows, and it's left a lasting impression on me.
"Tenebrae" is Latin for shadows or darkness. The Tenebrae has evolved from an ancient Christian ritual, most usually held on Good Friday, using diminishing light through extinguishing candles to symbolise the arrest, torture, trial, crucifixion and burial of Jesus. The enveloping darkness holds the sadness, helplessness and hopelessness after his death; a world without God. When I was at school, the Tenebrae would include a dramatic slamming of a church door or other dramatic noise to signify the closing of Jesus' tomb.
I remember Tenebrae services from my younger days as sombre and deeply sad; even depressive, if I'm being totally honest. This Good Friday, I travelled to the parish of "Our Lady of Mercy and St Joseph", in Lymington in Hampshire, to take part in a beautiful service put together by the wonderful Cathy; assisted by the lovely parish priest, Father Danny. Although Tenebrae has evolved with many traditional and orthodox elements intact, the service at Lymington was incredibly effective.
Belying the hard work that had gone into the preparation, it was a simple and seamless Tenebrae. About forty people attended on what was essentially a cold Friday night; the pretty parish church is quite small and seemed almost womb-like by flickering candlelight.
The service was obviously reflective and moving, but the beauty of it has stayed with me throughout Easter and is carrying me through the start of the great British summertime. I felt a real sense of quiet hopefulness during and after the service. At the edge of the New Forest and set across the Solent from the Isle of Wight, Lymington is often depicted as an affluent, self-contained area. But the quayside shops and pristine cottages front a town still darkened by poverty and social distress; the community of Our Lady of Mercy responds from a little pocket of kindness which is incredibly deep.
The intent of the service and the openness with which it was received were palpable. It's traditional to leave the Tenebrae in silence; the gathering on Friday in Lymington stayed in hushed contemplation long after the last candle of the service was blown out. There was a very real sense of acceptance and renewal and the affirmation of the faith at the heart of Easter. It was one of the most poignant church services I've been to: impossible not to feel touched by the spark made only brighter by the winter darkness.
"It is a time for shadows.
Before the glorious light of resurrection morning,
there are dark nights, and even darker days.
On our way toward rejoicing in the resurrection,
we are entering that shadow land, those days of darkness,
the darkness that stretched from the upper room to the tomb.
Dark days lie ahead,
somber days, shadowed days.
We have asked terrifying questions:
Will we notice the light, in the midst of so many shadows?
Would we notice the light, were it not for the shadows?
But we have ended with the triumphant question:
Would there be shadows, were it not for the light?
It is a time for shadows,
But it is also a time for hope."
(Adapted from Lee Magness' "Service of Shadows" 2009)
"There is a fragrance in the air, a certain passage of a song, an old photograph falling out from the pages of a book, the sound of somebody's voice in the hall that makes your heart leap and fills your eyes with tears. Who can say when or how it will be that something easters up out of the dimness to remind us of a time before we were born and after we will die?"
(Frederick Buechner)
"John Nineteen Forty-One", from "Jesus Christ Superstar"
"Give me a person of prayer, and such a one will be capable of accomplishing anything."
(St Vincent De Paul)
A couple of days ago, 27th September, was the feast day of St Vincent De Paul, also the anniversary of his death. Vincent was the son of French peasant farmers who became the priest of the disadvantaged and displaced and ultimately the inspiration for the Society of St Vincent De Paul. I'm a longstanding fan of the work of the SVP; an admiration that has been passed along to me from my parents (see earlier post: "Here's to those who turn Concern into Action"March 2012). The SVP offered a great deal of support to my Mum and Dad when they fetched up in south London all those years ago with my sister and some suitcases. When I first moved to Brighton, I discovered an SVP shop a stone's throw from my new home; my Mum said it was a sure sign of a "decent" area; for "ordinary people". Along the Lewes Road in Brighton, as in so many parts of the UK now, the ordinary people are frequently very poor, surviving with help and decency from other ordinary people; the essence of charities such as the SVP.
"Prayer for an End to Poverty" Creator God, You loved the world into life; forgive us when our dreams of the future are shaped by anything other than glimpses of a kingdom of justice, peace and an end to poverty. (Christian Aid prayer, 2012)
"La Route est Dure" Georgia Brown
"The road is hard but I am strong:
my soul is safe, the fear is gone.
I know what I must do with this life,
as the whole of the earth shall be delivered."
(From "La Route est Dure" - original author unknown. Apologies for my rough translation!)
*With great admiration and respect for Tom Turnbull and the Lymington Conference of the SVP*
"The heart is the only broken instrument that works"
(T E Kalem)
Colleen writes a lovely blog called "Thoughts of Grace" . She has a very gentle turn of phrase which is also extremely resonant. About ten days ago, she posted about the reassuring "click click" of her beloved husband'smechanical aortic valve replacement: for the past fourteen years she's been able to hear his heartbeat without a stethoscope. Colleen also wrote that sometimes we forget to listen for the heartbeat of God.I'm often silenced by the beauty of the words of others these days and this was one such moment. I recently read somewhere a quote from The Book of Ezekiel, about God giving man a singleness of heart and replacing our hearts of stone with tender ones of flesh. Lately, I've been struggling to keep my head above the waterline with many things: trying to keep up with friends' relationships, stressing about what people think of me, counting pennies instead of sheep at night. My own little heart is not so little as it's enlarged on one side and a common or garden chest infection has introduced a wee atrial flutter: beat beat beat skip skip beat. This could be due to many things, including stressing over all of the above! Of course I've focused on it and have been drawn into myself. I listen to "outside" noise looking to be irritated by it, I listen to the opinions of others, I listen to background music; and I get hung up on the irregularities of my own heartbeat. What I really need is to be quietened by the constance of the heartbeat of God. God doesn't succumb to stress or atrial fluttering. His beat never skips. It's the primeval pulse, the essence of vitality, peace and reason sought by the new age crystal practitioners in Brighton's North Laine as much as by the suited and booted church regulars taking their love to the altar, their babies to the font, and their flowers to the cemetery. Listen; and you will find it in the murmur of well wishers, the unsolicited greetings of strangers, in birdsong and the cheerful nonsense of children, in the rhythm and ritual of the Mass, in the ticking of your late father's watch, in the certainty of your own name from another's lips. It's in the hush at either end of each day, it's the breathing space before words spoken are heard, it's the soft echo of longing, remorse or forgiveness of everything unsaid.
My Mum was a petite lady whose frailty in her later years belied the strength of purpose of her own enlarged heart. The congenital failure which claimed her last beat started with a hole in her heart, discovered after scarlet fever as a child. During one of her last cardiac checkups in 2010, the consultant was incredulous that although the left side of her heart was barely functioning, she was still alive. Ironically, whatever her faults and the fallouts of her Norn Irish temper, my Mum was known to be all heart. After Dad died, Mum and I clung together through the tantrums of my teenage years and she indulged my penchant for various indie, protest-pop and rock bands. Once introduced by me, she and Bruce Springsteen got on like a house on fire. She came to see The Boss at Wembley Stadium, leaning on a walking stick after a hip replacement (Mum, not Bruce) and stood for his four hour show, thumping the ground to her favourite songs. She later complained that, although she thought he was "smashing", he could have played for a bit longer for the money. Towards the end of her life, as Mum grew more weary of being housebound, I would often chivvy her into watching the music chart show on TV; I can still hear her today saying such and such a tune had "a good beat". Somewhere in the brash eighties production of "Dancing in the Dark", I can still grasp her walking stick keeping tempo. I wasn't there when Mum's heart gave up the beat; in the dreadful fester of days afterwards, I have no idea when her rhythm slipped in step with mine. Now when my heart skips, I can feel my Mum beating for me, just as she did from before I drew my first breath.
A couple of weeks ago, I heard God's heartbeat loud and clear during a Mass for the Sick. The service took place in the Hampshire parish where my Mum is buried, and where I've since made some very dear friends. As one of the seven sacraments, "Extreme Unction" was known as the blessed anointing of those who were terminally ill. Since 1972, the Roman Catholic Church has used the name "Anointing of the Sick" and the sacrament is extended to all those who are suffering in mind or body.
Photo: Gigi
Photo: Frances
The Anointing of the Sick is given to restore and strengthen the body and the spirit; and to enable a state of grace for any continuing journey with pain or anguish. That Sunday, I watched other people after they had received their blessing, with a slight smile and an upward tilt to the chin. Several people I spoke to said they felt such peace after the mass. I also felt that the congregation and the men who were anointing them were moving quietly in step with the heartbeat of God. Intention, purpose and effect seemed to beat as one.
When my little cat Sooty was terminally ill, with a chest tumour that was growing over her own heart, I often pressed my cheek to her fur for the familiarity of it and also to catch her brave little heartbeat. I miss her terribly, and often find myself reaching across the stillness of a moment to rekindle that scent and softness; her beat. When I'm even more still, I feel I can catch other inexorable rhythms finely underpinning every traffic hum, every tick of every clock in my home; and yes, my own sporadically dysfunctional beat beat beat skip. I believe we live between God's heartbeats, carried by His constancy. When our own hearts flutter and finally fail, I believe our names are still found by others in His comforting rhythm. His pace is oblivious to our progresses, stresses and turmoil: His love doesn't miss a beat; He is the pacemaker of the world.
"In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart"
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.
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