December 2024 Letter from the Provost

A royal birth is traditionally the occasion for celebration. When the civilised world was ruled by kings and disputed succession might mean civil war and the threat of foreign invasion then the hopes of an entire nation would be invested in a new-born child, and especially a first-born son.

At Christmas we celebrate the birth of a royal Son who carries within Himself the fulfilment of all our deepest human aspirations. The Nativity is a royal birth with a difference. There are no palace walls or gates, and no guards, to protect this royal Child; and although a convoy of V.I.P.s will eventually make its way to Bethlehem from the East, the first subjects to pay homage to this Child will be some shepherds summoned from the surrounding hills by an angel. Our Lord was born into the cold and the dark of a winter’s night. As they knelt to adore the Child in a manger, however, those shepherds must have realised that they would never have to fear the dark again. With the faith infused into their souls on that first Christmas Eve, their hearts were warmed by the rays of divine light that streamed out of the manger and into the world around them.

The arrival of the King of Kings in a stable rather than a palace is no accident. His desire is that we should be moved to offer Him a home within our hearts. An army would be completely useless in establishing the sort of reign that He intends. He has not come to govern by force of arms. Rather He has come to take possession of our hearts by invitation. He asks for entry, but we always remain free to lock Him out. There is of course a catch. Around December, animal welfare societies have been known to put up posters declaring “A pet is not just for Christmas”. And the Christ-Child is certainly not just for Christmas. Once accepted, the divine gift of the new life that He offers us has to be fed and nurtured. We must become sensitive to what nourishes that life, and we have to learn to avoid whatever is harmful to its flourishing. The life of grace has to be sustained by loving contact with its divine origin, through prayer and worship. It must be made incarnate in good works.

At the beginning of the Midnight Mass a life-size plaster figure of the Christ Child is carried in procession and enthroned above the High Altar where it remains for the whole Christmas season surrounded by golden rays. This painted figure is a holy image, which is why we venerate it; but it is only a figure. Directly underneath it is the Sacred Reality that it represents. If only we had the faith of those shepherds in Bethlehem, then perhaps we should be able to see the rays of divine light escaping from behind the veil of the Tabernacle, and our hearts would glow in the warmth that they exude. Our Lord did not just come to us once, on a winter’s night, two thousand years ago in Palestine. He comes to us every day on the Altar. He comes to feed and to nourish us with His living Body and Blood. He remains on the Altar so that we might always find rest, peace and strength in His Presence. Perhaps we have set our hearts on some particular gift this Christmas. The best gift by far that we can ever receive is Our Lord in Holy Communion. That little white disc is infinitely more precious than the whole material universe in all its majesty. The Sacred Host is God Himself.

For many of us there are considerable preparations to be made in the days preceding Christmas. We must almost make time to reflect on the message of Advent: “Make straight the way of the Lord”. The most important preparations to be made are spiritual, and the best way we can ready ourselves to participate in the joy of Our Lord’s Nativity is by going to Confession. The Sacrament of Penance transforms the lowly stable of our hearts into the palace that was denied to the Christ Child in Bethlehem, and makes us living tabernacles able to receive the Word Made Flesh in Holy Communion. Let us give Him the best welcome we can this Christmas.

Father Julian Large

November 2024 Letter from the Provost

If you come into the Oratory Church on 1st November, you will find the Altar of St Philip Neri and the High Altar decked with reliquaries. These are the trophies of Christian victory. They contain the bones of saints whose souls now behold the Beatific Vision in Heaven. These mortal remains point us to the day when bodies and souls will be reunited to participate in heavenly glory together at the end of time. The liturgical colours of the Mass on this feast of All Saints are white and gold. White signifies the Resurrection, and the gold reminds us of the crown of eternal life that awaits everyone who dies in a state of grace.

On the following day the atmosphere is very different. Come into the church on 2nd November and you will find it shrouded in black and violet. The candles on the altars are unbleached. This sobriety of All Souls’ Day sets the tone for the rest of the month as we launch into a whole series of Requiem Masses for deceased parishioners, Fathers and Brothers of the Oratory, and for the fallen of the two world wars.

There can be a temptation to send everyone straight to Heaven when they die. Funerals can sometimes seem more like canonisation ceremonies for the deceased. This does a great disservice to the dead. Most of us when we die will need to be prepared before we can enter the Presence of Almighty God. The light is too dazzling, the fire of Divine Love too intense, for us to be able to bear it without some acclimatisation. We have to be purified of all remaining sin, and of the disfiguring effects of sin on the human soul. During life many of us construct layers of impenetrable defence to hide our vulnerability. This armour, and every other obstacle that obstructs the perfect communication of love, needs to be stripped away. We shall be in need of the prayers of our loved ones, not their congratulations.

The Church has always taught that the prayers of the living are of great assistance to the souls in Purgatory. Catholics have a very practical response to death. We do not waste time in wishful thinking, neither do we wallow in a shallow remembrance of the dead. We actually do something very positive for them. We show our love by accompanying them on their progress towards Heaven with our sacrifices and prayers.

One of the most difficult aspects of bereavement can be a sense of regret. Perhaps we feel that we could have done more to comfort a loved one, or possibly there are painful misunderstandings that remain unresolved. Thanks be to God we are able to express our affection beyond the grave, by praying for those whom we have lost, and especially by having Masses celebrated for them. A Requiem Mass is a very practical response to death. In a memorial service the intention is really to distract the congregation from the troubling reality of mortality with anecdotes about the subject. At a Requiem Mass we actually confront death head on. At the Altar, the merits of Our Lord’s Passion and Death are applied to the soul of the deceased, washing his soul in an ocean of Divine Love.

It is only when the Church informs us that a soul is definitely in Heaven that we can confidently stop praying for the person concerned. When a new saint is canonised, we then ask him to pray for us. In this sense, the Church is a society of mutual assistance. We in the Church Militant on earth assist the souls of the Church Suffering in Purgatory. Meanwhile, the saints of the Church Triumphant in Heaven help us with their intercession before the Throne of Grace.

What an amazing scene awaits us if and when, by God’s grace, we arrive in Heaven. We shall see Our Lady robed in majesty as Queen. We shall immediately recognise St Joseph and the Apostles near the throne of God. Our fellow guests at the Wedding Banquet of the Lamb will include those legendary heroes of the Faith, Ss Philip Neri, Francis of Assisi and Pio of Pietrelcina. Certainly there will be countless saints of whom we had never heard, who lived and died in obscurity, but whose holiness now shines brighter than a million stars. We should also expect some surprises. Every saint so different from the next; but each one a glorious living icon of Almighty God.

Monsignor Ronald Knox once talked about the curtains of Heaven being transparent. He meant not to suggest that we can see in, rather that the saints are able to look out. They see us ploughing along through the muddy and rocky furrows of this earthly existence, feeling our way with difficulty and occasionally stumbling into a ditch. And they are able to help us, not only by the light of their example which makes it easier for us to see what we should do, but also with their prayers – prayers that are wise and strong, whereas ours tend to be so feeble and blind.

Saint Philip Neri used to say that in times of great need, we should make ourselves like beggars, and visit as many churches dedicated to the saints as possible, to ask for their assistance. This is much easier in Rome than it is in London. Visiting St Philip’s Altar on All Saints’ Day, however, we find it laden with the relics of many saints. We venerate the bodies in which these saints achieved holiness, bodies that once contained hearts that were overflowing with purity, meekness and divine charity. Following the advice of St Philip, we should approach these saints like poor mendicants with empty bowls. Ask the saints to fill them, gaining for us all the graces that will secure us a place with them in Heaven.

Father Julian Large

October 2024 Letter from the Provost

Observing the world around us, we see a wonderful hierarchy, from the minerals of inanimate nature to the lower life forms of plants and bacteria, ascending through the animal kingdom, which surely reaches the height of its sophistication and genius in Jack Russell terriers. At the pinnacle of this material creation is man. Combining within his nature the physical and the spiritual, because he is a “rational animal”, man is like the hinge between this visible, tangible universe of matter and the realm of the angels, who are pure spirit. Above this whole created hierarchy we find the Creator Himself, He Who is pure, uncreated and infinite spirit.

Hierarchy is the principle by which God has chosen to order His creation. And so it is only expected that any well-run human society should be organised hierarchically. Our Lord Himself established His Church hierarchically, when He appointed Peter the chief Apostle.

Hierarchy, then, is something good and desirable. The only trouble is that in our fallen human nature we are tempted to jostle for position within this hierarchy. We like to be recognised, we long to be king of the castle and to benefit from the perks that accompany position. In our own blighted nation, governance is brought into disrepute by politicians who preach equality and “reform” while furnishing their wardrobes with freebies from political donors.

In the Gospels we find Original Sin getting the better of the disciples. In the ninth chapter of the Gospel of St Mark, Our Lord confides in His Apostles that He will be betrayed and put to death, and will rise from the dead after three days. Rather than concentrating on this extraordinary revelation which is at the very foundation of His mission to save us, they are distracted by a discussion of who among them will be top dog. Our Lord then gives to them, and to us, a new outlook which, in contrast to our worldly way of thinking, is spiritual and sanctifying: “If anyone would be first, he must be last and servant of all” (Mk 9:35).

Yes, in God's creation there is a very clear hierarchy. But it is a hierarchy in which the great ones serve the little ones. It is a hierarchy in which God Himself, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, humbles Himself in taking on our human flesh, washing the feet of the Apostles and dying the death of a slave for the salvation of sinners.

At this time of year, the Church focuses our attention on the Holy Angels. In the great hierarchy of being, angels are vastly superior to human beings. And yet God has ordained that in the economy of salvation the Angels should minister to us, as messengers, guides and protectors.

The glorious and powerful Holy Archangel St Michael himself listens to our prayers and flies to our assistance whenever we ask him to defend us in battle. Our Holy Guardian Angels, meanwhile, whose feast we celebrate on 2nd October, are so magnificent in their nature that exposure to their aura would blind our mortal eyes, and yet they have been commissioned to accompany us throughout our life on this earth. The Holy Angels delight in serving their Creator, and according to His will, they gladly minister to us. Let us never take this extraordinary blessing for granted.

We should also remember that it was the defiant cry of “non serviam” – “I will not serve” – that brought Lucifer and the angels who joined his rebellion (now demons) crashing down from Heaven. In his pride at his own status as light bearer at the throne of God and in his refusal to serve, Lucifer forfeited his privileged position forever, deprived himself of the glory for which he was created and was consigned to everlasting squalor and misery.

In Heaven there is a hierarchy where there is no jostling for position. The great saints put themselves at the bidding of us sinners, never disdaining our petitions for assistance. And the whole celestial host of angels and saints rejoice in hailing a female human creature as Mother of God and Queen. If we are serious about attaining a place within the heavenly hierarchy, we must look for every opportunity to humble ourselves in this life. Not counterfeit modesty – the sort of ostentatious humility that seeks attention is the very opposite of genuine meekness. Our holy father St Philip taught that we should learn to rejoice in our hearts when others are praised for our achievements, and we can be pleased when we do not receive the recognition that we might believe to be ours. Worldly acclaim counts for nothing in Heaven. Earthly honours end in a heap of ashes. We can either choose the way of service and be like Our Lord, the Holy Angels and the Saints; or we can take ourselves terribly seriously and make ourselves more like Satan.

Father Julian Large

September 2024 Letter from the Provost

A few years ago, the Oratory House provided wall space for a beautiful picture of the Last Supper by the Neapolitan baroque master Luca Giordano, whose work adorns the interior of the Oratory church in Naples. The painting belonged to a dealer, and the Provost had it hung in an obscure parlour in the vain hope that all memory of its current location might eventually evaporate. Unfortunately it was not long before it captured the attention of a discerning parishioner who made the owner a fair offer, and a sooty outline left by its frame on the wall is all that remains.

The Last Supper is surely one of the scenes most cherished by Christians of all denominations. For us Catholics it is the occasion on which Our Lord instituted the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, whereby we are united with His Passion and Death, and the Sacrament of the Eucharist. How blessed are we to have been given faith in this wondrous mystery and to gather as one body around the altar, praying “Thy Kingdom Come”, as we await and pray for His return in Majesty, when His glorious presence will fill the skies from East to West and He will judge the living and the dead. How blessed are we on this earthly pilgrimage to be nourished with food that is nothing less than His own living and risen Body. He transforms bread and wine into Himself so that we might in turn be transformed into His likeness. When we leave Mass as living tabernacles of His divine presence, we are sent out to transform the society around us.

If we are true to our Catholic Faith, then we should expect to find opposition to our mission. This last summer the inaugural ceremony of the Olympic Games, which was watched around the world, featured what appeared to be a grotesque and blasphemous parody of the Last Supper that was calculated to mock and insult not only Christians but every human being with any shred of decency. The peculiar depravity and squalor of that degenerate spectacle suggest that its inspiration was demonic.

We might think of France as the Eldest Daughter of the Church, and Paris is a city that has produced many great saints. However, during the French Revolution a naked prostitute was declared to be “the Goddess of Reason” and enthroned on the High Altar of Notre Dame Cathedral. And earlier this year the current President of the French Republic, who likens himself to Jupiter, marked the enshrining of the right to abortion in his country’s constitution with a ceremony that simmered with religious intensity. With an attempted air of Napoleonic imperialism, he announced: “Today is not the end of the story, it’s the beginning of a combat. If France has become the only country in the world whose constitution explicitly protects the right to an abortion in all circumstances, we will not rest until this promise is kept throughout the world.”

It would be strange if a society which has taken such a disastrous turn did not feel compelled to throw mud, or worse, at the Church. Indeed, we can be glad if the Church is an irritating thorn in the flesh of such a beast. Of course we shall be mocked and discriminated against for our Faith. Our Saviour Who was crucified did not promise us popularity and acclaim. He did, however, assure us that we shall forever be partakers in the glory of His Resurrection if only we remain faithful to Him.

In France, Deo gratias, all is not lost. We can praise God for the eighteen thousand young pilgrims who walked on the Paris to Chartres Pilgrimage earlier this year on the Feast of Pentecost, to show their love for Christ, and especially for His presence with them in all the Masses that were celebrated along the way, and for His Real Presence with them in the Blessed Sacrament. The offending scene at the opening of the Paris Olympics conjured up a fetid atmosphere of sterility and wretchedness – nothing could have manifested more starkly the despair that afflicts a society that has unanchored itself from its Christian foundations and from the source of all wholesome nourishment. Those many thousands of young pilgrims singing hymns on their way to Chartres, meanwhile, represent fruitfulness and hope in all their beauty.

We should take inspiration from their zeal and dedication. Pray that our faith in Our Lord's presence, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, in the Blessed Sacrament is deepened, and that this faith may bear great fruits of hope and charity in our daily lives. It is said that the devil's greatest trick is to keep himself hidden, because then men will cease to believe in him. That gives him a definite power over us. But in our day God is allowing the evil one to reveal himself in his ugliness. That gives us power over him. We need not, must not, become discouraged. We know where and with Whom the final victory lies.

Father Julian Large

August 2024 Letter from the Provost

Saint John the Baptist is such an important saint that he has two feast days – the feast of his nativity, on 24th June, and the feast of his martyrdom on 29th August. Usually the feast of a saint marks the entry of his soul into its eternal reward. The Blessed Virgin and St John are the only saints whose birthdays on earth are marked with solemn festivity. So what is so special about St John the Baptist? The answer, really, is just about everything. First of all, John’s mother Elizabeth was a cousin of the Blessed Virgin. Considerably older than Our Lady, she was certainly past the age of childbearing and was considered barren. As with Our Lord, John’s conception is pre-announced and his name is given by an angel, in this case while his father Zachary was performing his priestly duties in the Temple. The angel informed Zachary that Elizabeth will bear a son whose name must be John and he will go before the Lord in the spirit of Elias, turning many hearts to God and preparing for the coming of the Lord (Lk 1:5-17).

“In the spirit of Elias”. God had promised through the prophet Malachias: “Behold I will send you Elias the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord” (Mal 4:5). Saint John is really the very last of the great Old Testament prophets. And the Church has always taught, without defining it as a dogma, that while Our Blessed Lady was sinless from the moment of Her Immaculate Conception, John himself was made immaculate when Mary was pregnant and visiting Elizabeth, and John leapt in Elizabeth's womb on this first encounter with the Word made flesh. If there were a league division of saints, then, St John would appear somewhere at the top of the first division. His holiness and stature are all the greater owing to his profound humility. The whole of Judea will flock to the Jordan to hear him preach and to participate in his ritual baptism. But he is insistent that his whole raison d’être is to prepare the way of one who is infinitely greater than himself. And so he declares: “He must increase but I must decrease” (Jn 3:30). John will decrease to the point of shedding his blood for the Gospel.

We should never confuse humility or meekness with human respect. We commit the sin of “human respect” when we say things we should not say (or perhaps more often than not, we do not say things we should say) in order to please our neighbour. For example, we are with our Catholic friends. The conversation turns to forthcoming elections and, they all say that they intend to vote for a politician whose voting record indicates that he favours abortion, a crime against the sanctity of innocent life which cries to Heaven. We say nothing, because we do not wish to play the party-pooper, to stand out as different or, horror of horrors, to be accused of being “judgmental”. And so, at the end of the conversation, everyone is left with the impression that we are in agreement with them, or at least have no objection.

 It probably has to be admitted that the clergy have always been susceptible to the sin of human respect. When the Pharisees and Sadducees – the ecclesiastical aristocracy of Jerusalem – turn up to observe John baptising the Judeans in the Jordan, he calls them a “brood of vipers” and sends them packing (Lk 3:7). Valuing their position and privileges, they have left it to him to call out Herod for his adultery, an undertaking that will lead to his beheading. John is not prone to human respect. In fact, he does not care what anyone thinks of him. He knows that his job is not to get rave reviews in the Jordan Telegraph. His divinely ordained mission is to call sinners to repentance, to “make straight the way of the Lord” (Is 40:3). Had the Sadducees as a caste survived the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 A.D. it is quite likely that we should find them today acquiescing by their silence in the secular religion of “Pride”, and turning a blind eye to supposedly pious politicians who give their support to legislation that facilitates the violation of innocent human life. It is impossible to imagine the Baptist doing so.

As we approach the feast that marks the martyrdom of St John, perhaps we should pray that there will be a decrease in the sin of human respect within us, and that the spirit of John the Baptist will increase in the Church, so that in this age of confusion Her prophetic voice may be clear and unambiguous in the service of salvation and sanctification.

Father Julian Large

July 2024 Letter from the Provost

The gap between the extremely rich and the rest of humanity seems to have widened dangerously since the dreaded “Pandemic”. Those perspicacious champions of environmentalism who profited from investments in the pharmaceutical and “personal protection equipment” industries feel no guilt in travelling to and from Davos in private aeroplanes, in the confidence that they can “offset” their own “carbon footprints” by lobbying for increasingly inflated taxes which make travelling prohibitively expensive for the jetless deplorables who must finance their existence on hard earned salaries and wages.

The cost of day to day living, fuel prices and the exorbitant fees now commanded by airline companies and hotels mean that many families will currently be struggling to make travel plans for their summer holidays.

A number of parishioners have mentioned that this year they intend to forego travelling abroad altogether, in favour of recreation and relaxation closer to home. One obvious benefit of this, for Catholics, is that within England at least it is usually possible to find a Catholic church within reasonable distance of anywhere we might be staying. The obligation to attend Holy Mass on Sundays and Holy Days is binding under pain of mortal sin. Obviously, this does not apply to those prevented from attending Mass for grave reasons of physical or mental frailty, caring for the sick or great distance. Please note, however, that Master Hugo’s tennis club fixtures and Miss Antonia’s extra maths tuition do not constitute matter for dispensation. If we miss Mass on a prescribed day without serious cause, then we must receive Absolution in the Sacrament of Penance before our next reception of Holy Communion in order to be sure of avoiding the further sin of sacrilege. The precept to attend Mass is based on the Church’s determination, divinely sanctioned, of how we should honour the Third Commandment to keep the Sabbath holy. Through the Sacrament of Baptism we are incorporated into the Mystical Body of Christ. Gathering together on the day of Our Lord’s Resurrection, we express that unity in a visible way, by participating as one supernaturally unified body in the Sacrifice of Cavalry at the altar. The graces which we receive from this are innumerable, and we cannot afford to separate ourselves from this central action of our holy Catholic religion.

Apart from Sundays, the one Holy Day of Obligation that is likely to coincide with summer travels is the feast of Our Lady’s Assumption, on Thursday 15th August. Those fortunate enough to find themselves in a Catholic country on this date will almost certainly find that this is celebrated with great solemnity and local festivities. But wherever and whenever we might happen to be travelling, we should aim to make every day of our holidays a holy day, by planning ahead so that we know where the nearest Catholic Church happens to be and at what time Holy Mass is scheduled to be celebrated. On arrival at the destination, make a visit to the local church to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, and to ask for Our Lady's intercession.

At the end of a long journey most children will of course be impatient to pursue the serious business of hunting for ice cream. But the example of parents who make visiting the nearest church and noting Mass times a priority will make a profound impression on their offspring which will not be forgotten. If you are fortunate enough to be able to take your family abroad, then consider combining your travels with a visit to a centre of special devotion. In recent months a number of the fathers of the London Oratory have considered themselves blessed beyond words to accompany separate pilgrimages to St Pio of Pietrelcina’s shrine in Apulia, southern Italy. San Giovanni Rotondo, where Padre Pio's body is exposed for veneration, and where his convent and the hospital he built provide much edifying and fascinating material for contemplation. To put it in modern terms, the “energy” of the place is something quite extraordinary. The town lies on the edge of the breathtakingly beautiful Gargano National Park, which is fringed by an unspoilt and quite spectacular coastline at the eastern tip of the “spur of Italy”, while less than an hour’s bus ride away from San Giovanni is the magnificent sanctuary of Monte Sant’ Angelo, where the Holy Archangel Michael made his first recorded apparitions in Italy in the 490s. Accommodation in the area is considerably less expensive than in Italy’s fashionable tourist destinations. Two of us were astonished to find a billet in a spacious and bright apartment with plenty of storage space for cassocks and Roman hats and within walking distance of Padre Pio’s shrine that cost us each £50 a night. A generous bowl of the local speciality orecchiette pasta can easily enjoyed for under £5.

Wherever you might be holidaying this summer, please bear in mind that parents who take a vacation from the practice of the Faith during their travels risk the most sorrowful prospect of children who end up taking a vacation from the Faith for the rest of their unfortunate lives. Thoughtfully conceived travel plans provide the perfect opportunity to make your loved ones value and love our priceless treasury of Catholic devotions.

Father Julian Large

April 2024 Letter from the Provost

Our human story begins in a garden. Genesis describes God placing Adam in “a paradise of pleasure” full of trees bearing wholesome and delicious fruit. In the midst of this paradise were two trees of special and mysterious significance – the Tree of Life, and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. It was, of course, through disobeying God’s instructions and eating the fruit of the latter that our first parents fell from grace and found themselves cast out from that wondrous garden where they had enjoyed the privilege of walking and conversing in friendship with their Creator. To bar their return Cherubim were posted behind them, along with a flaming sword turning in all directions. Separated from paradise, they would also come to suffer the separation of body and soul in death, as a punishment for their rebellion. During their departure from this garden, God hints that there is an antidote to the curse that they have brought upon the human race: the purpose of the angelic sentries and the swirling sword is to keep man away from the Tree of Life, “lest perhaps he put forth his hand, and take also of the Tree of Life and live forever” (Gen 3:22). Let this be a warning to today’s “transhumanists” who delude themselves into thinking that science and technology will endow them with divine capabilities: restoration to eternal life is attainable with God’s help, but man will never be allowed to achieve it on his own terms.

Excluded from the garden of paradise, Adam and his descendants must till the ground in toil and by the sweat of their brow, contending with thorns and thistles. Anyone who has created a garden will know how much time, thought, painstaking labour and resources are involved in such a project. Nevertheless, gardens of all shapes and sizes have been a mark of every civilisation. The Oratory Fathers are blessed with a garden of their own, which was part of the plot which they acquired along with their purchase of an old school, Blemell House, in the early 1850s. An engraved boundary stone in the wall indicates that our garden dates back to at least 1786, and in recent dry summers the traces of a previous layout have made a ghostly and temporary appearance through the parched lawn. One consequence of Adam and Eve’s transgression in Eden is the tiresome Massaria disease which attacks the branches of the plane trees planted by Father Faber, and which costs us a small fortune annually in fees for the arboreal surgery required to keep the garden safe for scouts, choir members and the patrons of our annual Summer Fete.

Following man’s expulsion from Eden, gardens continue to feature throughout the Holy Scriptures as a recurring theme in God’s plan for redemption. On Maundy Thursday, after the Mass of the Last Supper, we accompany Our Lord into Gethsemane, where He endured the first stage of His Passion. It is said that the ancient olive trees that grow in the area of Jerusalem identified as Gethsemane today draw their nutrition from ground that was moistened by the blood He sweated during His agony. The flowers at the Altar of Repose in St Wilfrid’s Chapel each year serve to evoke the ambience of a garden as we keep vigil before the Blessed Sacrament. On Good Friday we are then reminded in St John’s account of the Passion that “there was in the place where he was crucified a garden”, and that it was there that His body was enclosed in an unused tomb.

And so Our Lord’s definitive triumph over the calamity that occurred in the Garden of Eden also takes place in a garden. The shadow of death that crossed man’s path in that primeval paradise of pleasure, and the blood that soaked the ground of Gethsemane, give way to sweetness and freshness in the garden of the Resurrection. Arriving here in the early hours of the first Easter Sunday St Mary Magdalene mistakes the risen Second Adam for a gardener. The first Adam, after all, was put into the paradise of Eden “to dress it and to keep it” (Gen 2:15). The Cross on which Our Saviour died has become the Tree of Life, whereby man may attain the immortality that was forfeited in that first garden. We are mystically grafted on to the Tree of Life in Baptism, the primary sacramental means by which we die and are buried with Christ, emerging from the waters of regeneration filled with the supernatural life of the Resurrection.

Easter is a feast overflowing with the vitality of a spring garden bursting into a new cycle of life and growth, and if we wish to immerse ourselves in the atmosphere of that marvellous day of our salvation during this beautiful season of Eastertide, then perhaps we should make some effort to immerse ourselves in the cool air of a garden in its early morning lustre. Many of the public parks of London contain areas of cultivated garden which are verdant sanctuaries of tranquillity at this time of year. Breathe deeply the fragrant air and give thanks for the discovery of the empty tomb in that garden in Jerusalem, meditate on the Resurrection and what it means for us.

Father Julian Large

March 2024 Letter from the Provost

During Lent, those who attend the full series of Musical Oratories in the church on Wednesday evenings will be familiar with the invaluable contribution made by all of the three choirs with which we are currently blessed here. The superb and professional London Oratory Choir, the world acclaimed Schola from our senior school and the excellent parish Junior Choir each take it in turns to enhance the meditations on penitential themes that are led by the fathers over the course of four Wednesday evenings. Our holy father St Philip was a pioneer in this form of spiritual exercise, and it is said that the Oratory in Rome is the origin of the word “oratorio” when used to denote those great choral compositions of the baroque period.

At some stage during the musical Oratories, we are usually treated to the sublimely haunting motet Civitas Sancti Tui by the English composer William Byrd. A lamentation over the ruin of Jerusalem during the Babylonian captivity as described in the Old Testament, it was sung this year by the Schola at our second Musical Oratory, and is always repeated by our professional choir on Good Friday during the Veneration of the Cross. Its words poignantly convey the desolation of Calvary and point us to another destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple which would follow as a consequence of Our Lord’s Crucifixion: “Thy holy city has become a wilderness. Zion has been deserted; Jerusalem has been left desolate” (Is 64:10).

As a Catholic and a recusant, Byrd witnessed the religious devastation of this land during the Protestant revolt, when altars were stripped, shrines demolished, and relics desecrated. Civitas Sancti Tui seems to have been composed soon after the unspeakably savage martyrdom of St Edmund Campion at Tyburn in 1581, but it has been suggested that it was first inspired during Byrd’s late teens, when he witnessed the removal of the Blessed Sacrament from St Paul’s Cathedral after the death of the last Catholic monarch Mary Tudor in 1558.

Lest we should ever be tempted to take our blessings for granted, we should sometimes reflect on what it must be like to live as a Catholic with no access to the Blessed Sacrament. The uncanny sense of emptiness that is experienced when visiting a beautiful medieval church is a reminder of what our ancestors were so brutally deprived of when the celebration of Mass was outlawed on pain of death and the Blessed Sacrament banished from the realm. Thanks be to God there were heroic priests who continued to offer the Holy Sacrifice in secret, and brave Catholic laity who hid them. The earthly price could not have been more gruesome, nor the eternal reward more glorious.

The closest that most of us will have come to anything like real sacramental deprivation will have been during the unwelcome restrictions that were imposed during the Coronavirus saga. It was horrendous to hear reports of sinners denied Confession, and of the sick and elderly dying without the consolation of the Sacrament of Extreme Unction and deprived of “Viaticum”, that supernatural food for the journey into eternity which is Our Lord’s Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. What a relief it was when church doors finally reopened. We can only hope and pray that if ever the Holy Mass is driven underground again in this country God will grant us priests with the courage to provide God’s children with the sacraments even if it means risking liberty, life and limb.

How delighted a Catholic recusant like William Byrd would have been to know that one day his sacred compositions would accompany Catholic worship publicly in English churches where Our Lord would be reserved in tabernacles once again. How thrilled he and those English martyrs who were slaughtered at Tyburn and elsewhere would be to walk into the London Oratory to find the Blessed Sacrament enthroned and exposed for public adoration over the High Altar amid a blaze of hundreds of candles during our annual Forty Hours Devotions this month. The Quarant’Ore will open with a High Mass of Exposition and Procession of the Blessed Sacrament on Tuesday 12th March at 6.30pm, and will close as usual with Mendelssohn’s Lauda Sion followed by Solemn Benediction at 7pm on Thursday 14th March. Making time to participate in these devotions and to rest in silent adoration in front of Our Lord is one valuable way of keeping Lent and showing our gratitude for His sacramental Presence with us. Let us make the most of it, and never take Our Lord’s Real Presence with us for granted.

Father Julian Large

February 2024 Letter from the Provost

On the Second Sunday of Lent, the Church leads us on a gentle hike up the slopes of Mount Tabor, to witness Our Lord’s Transfiguration. The three apostles who accompany Our Lord there will be those most intimately associated with His Passion. On Holy Thursday, we shall see how Peter, James and John will be invited to go with Him into the Garden of Gethsemane. There they will be present while He sweats blood at the prospect of what is to come. On Tabor, they are given a glimpse of His Glory. This is to prepare them – to prove to them that when Jesus suffers, it is only because He has freely and deliberately laid aside the glory and majesty which belong to Him by right and by nature.

The Transfiguration reminds us that behind the ordinary appearances of things there lies a much greater reality. Think of what happens when a grumpy little baby is baptised. It remains invisible to us, but once the water has touched that child's head, he is now a living Temple of the Holy Ghost. If only we could see the splendour of that soul in a state of grace, its brilliance would be too dazzling for our mortal eyes to behold. Likewise, if we saw the horrible effects of mortal sin on a human soul, it would be much too dreadful for any human language adequately to describe.

In the Blessed Sacrament, what presents itself to our human senses is common bread and ordinary wine. The reality, however, is infinitely more extraordinary and sublime than words can ever express. The Cure d ’Ars used to say that if we could see Our Lord Jesus in the Sacred Host, we would die – not from fear, but rather from love. It is a mark of God’s tenderness that His glorious presence remains veiled, otherwise we should never dare to approach the altar rails, never mind consume Him. Bearing this in mind, may we use this Lent to reflect carefully on the preparation we make before receiving Holy Communion, and the devotion with which we receive the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

It is so easy to live life on the surface, never really penetrating to the much greater reality of God’s presence in His creation. Holy Scripture tells us that every man, woman and child is fashioned in God’s own image. But how often do we really think about that in our dealings with difficult colleagues at work, or in our attitude towards the Sunday drivers who hog the road when we are cutting it fine to arrive in good time for Holy Mass? We surely need to remind ourselves that every human soul is intrinsically beautiful and valuable to God.

Lent, then, is a time for readjusting our focus, so that we look beyond the surface of things and contemplate those realities which are eternal. It is a season for reminding ourselves that all earthly gain and glory ends in dust and ashes – ashes which are just as dry and dead as the ashes we receive on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday. And to assist us in this readjustment of focus, the Church encourages us to fast, to pray and to give alms. In giving alms, or devoting some extra time and energy to those in need, we give honour to that divine image which is emblazoned on our neighbour's soul, and this is a form of worship which is exceedingly pleasing to God and an indispensable element of “true religion”. In fasting, we unite ourselves with Our Lord's Passion through self-denial, and we detach ourselves from worldly distractions. In praying, we lift our hearts and minds beyond the here and now to God in Heaven.

The glory we see in Our Lord's Transfiguration is a glimpse of the glory which we have been made to share. It should encourage us to make the best use of this season of Lent.

Father Julian Large

January 2024 Letter from the Provost

It seems that for many of our contemporaries the Christmas season begins as soon as the pumpkins and skulls of Halloween have made way for tinsel and baubles in the shop window displays in early November. By 26th December the streets of South Kensington are made forlorn by the skeletons of discarded Christmas trees next to the turkey carcasses that have been strewn around the pavements by foxes. Mercifully we Catholics have the liturgical calendar to save us from such premature “holiday burnout”. For us, the festive season only began on Christmas Eve and is still in full swing.

The Feast of the Epiphany reminds us that the Nativity of Our Lord is the ultimate gift that keeps on giving. An epiphany is a “manifestation”, and this most ancient and beautiful feast actually marks three great manifestations. In the Mass for the day we concentrate on the manifestation of His divinity to the Gentiles, when the Magi arriving from the East fall to their knees and offer to the Christ Child the latria, or adoration, which is the highest level of worship reserved for God alone. After Mass we should make some time to visit the Crib to join the Magi in contemplation of the scene at the manger. At Vespers, meanwhile, the full significance of this ancient feast day is expressed in the Magnificat antiphon: "Three miracles glorify this sacred day: today the star led the Magi to the crib; today at the wedding feast water was changed into wine; today, for our salvation, Christ willed that John baptize Him in the Jordan, Alleluia.”

There are certain events in the history of Divine Revelation which might be described as truly seismic in their implications for the relationship of the human race with the Creator. One such “epiphanic” moment is recorded in the third chapter of Exodus, when God reveals His name to Moses from the burning bush: the name “I Am Who Am” (Ex 3:14) expresses profound truth about the very nature of the One True God whose very nature is to be, in a revelation that was granted a thousand years or so before the Greek philosophers began to talk about the source of all existence in terms of “pure being”.

This holy name revealed to Moses is so sacred to pious Jews that it could only ever be uttered by the High Priest, on certain occasions in the Temple and with the greatest solemnity, and even today cannot be written down. The “possession” of this truth was fundamental to the identity of God’s chosen people, who often found themselves in close proximity to pagans enslaved to the superstition of polytheism. It was the role of the prophets of old constantly to remind them of the unique privilege which had been granted to them, and of the responsibilities that accompanied it.

Saint John the Baptist is often described as the last prophet of the Old Testament, because he came “in the spirit and the power of Elias” (Lk 1:17), and when he baptises Our Lord, we witness another of those seismic developments in the history of The Creator’s interaction with His creatures. When God the Son emerges from the waters of the Jordan, God the Holy Ghost appears in the form of a dove above His head, and the voice of God the Father is heard to announce: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Mt 3:17). And so it is manifested to us that within the One True God, there are in fact three Divine Persons, between Whom there is an eternal and infinite outpouring of divine love.

That this revelation of the Blessed Trinity occurs within the context of Baptism is of the greatest significance to us, because it is in our own Baptism that the divine life of the Blessed Trinity is infused into our hearts and we are inserted into that dynamic of knowledge and love which flows eternally between the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. It is in Baptism that the Christ Child is enthroned in our hearts, and when we are elevated supernaturally to a state of grace. It is in Baptism that we are made ready to receive the Word Made Flesh in Holy Communion, so that we may enjoy a union with God which is more perfect and intimate than any other union that is possible in this life. It is in Baptism that He ennobles us and shares His life with us so that we may truly be called His friends. This divine friendship is really the essence of the Christian life.

Like God’s Chosen People of the Old Testament, we have been granted knowledge of a holy name. And we do well to follow their pious example by treasuring the Holy Name of Jesus and only ever using it with the greatest reverence. The Feast of the Holy Name is just one of the many beautiful celebrations that adorns the calendar between Christmas Day and the Epiphany. The friendship that God extends to us in Baptism means that we can each of us dare to pronounce the name of Jesus with perfect confidence and trust. Let us resolve to spend 2024 cultivating that friendship.

Father Julian Large

December 2023 Letter from the Provost

In Advent we are called to prepare on different levels for the coming of Our Lord. Most obviously we look forward to celebrating His birth in Bethlehem. The meekness of the circumstances of the Nativity should inspire us to approach the manger with childlike simplicity and trust. We are also reminded to ready ourselves for His return in majesty and power to judge the living and the dead. This is therefore the time of year to reflect on the “Last Things.”

The Four Last Things – Death Judgment, Heaven and Hell – is not such a fashionable subject for preaching in our day. Death is something that modern man prefers to take place out of sight and out of mind. Rarely these days does it take place in the home, with all generations of a family praying around the sickbed. It has instead been banished to the sterilised corridors of hospitals and nursing homes. As for judgment, the thought that God might dare to call us to account is an affront to the prevailing view that, if we are to allow any existence to God at all, His role in our lives must be to affirm us in our choices and make us feel good about ourselves. Hell is hardly ever mentioned, and even the value of Heaven is debased if, as we are led to believe, we all eventually end up there automatically whether we choose to go or not.

In the Gospels, however, Our Lord Jesus mentions hell quite often. At the end of His parable of the talents, for example, the unprofitable servant is cast into the outer darkness where, in the words of Our Lord, “Men will weep and gnash their teeth” (Mt 25:30). Apparently, the Ulster firebrand Ian Paisley was once warming to his theme on this text when an old man shouted out from the crowd “I ain’t got no teeth!” The Rev. Mr. Paisley assured him: “teeth will be provided.” It was not a wholly frivolous answer. In the Creed we profess our belief in the Resurrection of the dead, meaning the reunion of our bodies and souls at the end of time when Our Lord returns in Glory to judge the living and the dead. We believe that our bodies will join our immortal souls in their destiny in eternity. So yes, teeth will be provided. Of course, we hope and pray that this will be in Heaven. But we must also consider the alternative so that we may avoid it.

That is why we priests must occasionally preach on the uncomfortable subject of hell. Not because we enjoy talking about it, or because anyone enjoys hearing it, but because we do not wish for you to go there. Neither do we wish to go there ourselves, and there is a good chance that we shall if we do not live up to our responsibility to preach the Gospel in all its fullness.

The truth is that we have each been created in the image of God. And the freedom of choice with which we have been endowed means that while we are able to embrace and treasure the gifts that God lavishes on us, we also remain free to reject them. This must be true if we consider that grace is a supernatural gift, and the nature of any gift is that it is freely given and freely received. And so, in this life, we remain able to extinguish the gift of Sanctifying Grace received in Baptism, through mortal sin. This is how a soul ends up in hell: when someone dies unrepentant in mortal sin.

We must pray, then, for the grace to hold sin in horror, and to use well the Sacrament of Penance which restores us from the death of sin to the life of the Resurrection. But we also need to remember that the Christian life involves so much more than the avoidance of mortal sin. Indeed, if this is what we reduce it to, then we become like that unprofitable servant who buries his talent in the ground. Even what he has shall be taken from him.

Maybe we are struggling with a habit of sin in one particular area. It would be counterproductive in the extreme to focus our entire spiritual energy in that one place. We can only hope to overcome our vices, with God’s help, if we are also making a real effort to practice all the virtues. Strive to live charity and humility to a high degree, and we give God’s grace the space in our hearts to work its wonders. Channel our forces on being good (and that means doing good), and we can be confident that God will give us the grace to conquer that within us which is bad.

The life of grace must be lived, so that God’s supernatural gifts may be multiplied within our hearts and souls. We have been given a participation in God’s own Divine Life so that we may build and extend His Kingdom around us, and especially in that part of Creation which He has entrusted to our influence – within our family, our workplace and home, and within our circle of friends. If we use what God has given us, His gifts will flourish and increase.

Father Julian Large

November 2023 Letter from the Provost

Ascending to the imposing pulpit of the Oratory church, the preacher these days has to remind himself to be grateful to look out onto a sea of faces. Not so long ago the doors of our churches were locked, and the Sacraments were denied to those who sought and needed them. During those bleak days, weeks and months of “lockdown”, when the sanctuary lamps continued to burn but only the residents of Oratory House were able to visit the Tabernacle, and Mass was celebrated by the Oratory fathers “sine populo” (apart from the invisible company of the Angels and Saints who surround the altar at every celebration of the Holy Sacrifice), one did find oneself wondering quite seriously how many of the faithful would bother to return if and when the ban on public worship ever came to be lifted.

Yes, many found comfort in the daily Masses which were live streamed from this church and others, morning and evening. Such virtual attendance at Mass was certainly an aid to devotion. But it cannot be stressed too much that it was no substitute for the real thing. And it certainly was not, nor ever could be, a means of fulfilling our obligation to assist at Mass on Sundays and holy days. Such an obligation requires that we each attend Mass physically and personally. If it is not reasonably possible to fulfil this, then the obligation is suspended, as the Church made clear during the period of contagion.

Thanks be to God you did return to Church once the restrictions were lifted. This is an encouraging sign that even the disappearance of the clergy during a period of great need was not enough to drive the faithful away from the Sacraments which Our Lord instituted for our salvation and sanctification. At the Oratory the Fathers have noticed that the numbers of those assisting at our functions are actually higher than they had been for some years preceding the strange arrival of the Coronavirus and all that came in its wake. It has been a great joy to see lots of new faces, including young families with children. We hope that you have found a warm welcome here, and invite you to introduce yourselves to us.

We can only hope and pray that the days when the only means of following the Holy Mass available is via a computer screen will never return. But perhaps one benefit of the livestream Masses was at least the valuable lesson that it is possible to unite ourselves prayerfully with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass without receiving Holy Communion. And if the impossibility of receiving Our Lord for a time was a cause of an increased spiritual hunger for the Blessed Sacrament, then that was a blessing indeed.

In one parable Our Lord describes a marriage banquet at which a king sees a guest who is not wearing the appropriate wedding garments (Mt 22:1-14). As a consequence the intruder is bound hand and foot and cast into the outer darkness where men weep and gnash their teeth.

The marriage feast is, of course, a symbol of the mystical banquet at which we consume Our Lord in Holy Communion. In Baptism we are clothed with a white robe, symbolising the Sanctifying Grace infused into our souls. The State of Grace is the supernatural marriage garment with which our souls must be clothed in order to receive the Body of Our Lord Jesus Christ at the altar rails.

The Church insists that, if we are able to, then we must attend Holy Mass every Sunday and Holy Day; but She only insists that we receive Holy Communion once a year, around Easter. This is to ensure that when we do consume Our Blessed Lord’s Body and Blood, it is always in a State of Grace. Holy Communion is the most intimate and wonderful encounter with God that is possible in this life, the closest that it is possible to come to Heaven on earth. And we are encouraged to receive Our Lord Jesus in the Sacred Host frequently, even every day. Holy Communion is the most effective means to growth in holiness, rather than a reward for spiritual perfection. But we must be careful that our approach to the altar rails never becomes a mere routine, and certainly that we avoid ever making a sacrilegious Communion.

The glorious Council of Trent, which taught the Catholic Faith with such luminous clarity and eloquence, made a three-fold distinction regarding the reception of Holy Communion: firstly there are those who receive only sacramentally – meaning those who receive in a state of mortal sin. Not only do they not benefit from the Sacrament, but they also bring down condemnation upon themselves. Then there are those who receive only spiritually – meaning those who are unable to receive physically, but are in the state of grace and whose pious desire for the Sacrament means that they receive the fruits of Holy Communion in their souls. Thirdly, there are those who receive both physically and spiritually. The Council of Trent explains that these are the ones who examine and prepare themselves beforehand to approach this divine table, clothed in the wedding garment.

This means that each and every sacramental, physical Communion we make must also be a spiritual communion. And so if we have sinned mortally – and that would include missing Sunday Mass without grave cause – then we must first have recourse to the Sacrament of Penance to restore to us the white robe of Sanctifying Grace we received in Baptism – the Grace which turns our hearts into gleaming tabernacles, fit to receive the King of Kings.

Father Julian Large