September 2020 Letter from the Provost

It is sometimes said that if all the pieces of wood that are venerated around the world as relics of the True Cross were put together, then there would be enough material to build a Spanish galleon. Fake News. In the preface to his excellent historical novel Helena, Evelyn Waugh debunks this canard: “It used to be believed by the vulgar that there were enough pieces of this ‘true cross’ to build a battleship,” writes Waugh; “In the last century a French savant, Charles Rohault de Fleury, went to the great trouble of measuring them all. He found a total of 4,000,000 cubic millimetres, whereas the cross on which our Lord suffered would probably comprise some 178,000,000. As far as the volume goes, therefore, there is no strain on the credulity of the faithful.”

It took some three centuries after the Crucifixion for the Cross to become an object of veneration. In the year 312 AD the pagan Roman Emperor Constantine looked up to the sun and saw a cross of light above it. The words “In this sign you will conquer” were written in the sky. He was about to engage in a terrible battle with his political rivals on the outskirts of Rome, and the outcome was far from certain. Obeying what he understood to be a heavenly portent, he had the Cross marked on the shields of his soldiers and was victorious. Hitherto a symbol of the most shameful death, the Cross became a mark of honour, which men carried into battle as their standard and kings wore over their heads on royal crowns. Constantine’s triumph over his enemies meant that Christianity would become the official religion of the Roman Empire. The Roman world embraced the Cross, and the era of what would become known as Christian civilisation had dawned.

The feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross on 14 September celebrates the beginning of public veneration of the Cross soon after this victory. The Cross on which our Saviour died was miraculously discovered in Jerusalem by Constantine’s mother St Helen on this day in 326; and on the same date two churches, built at the site of Calvary by Constantine, would be dedicated. Saint Helen carried a portion of these relics back to Rome to keep in her palace, which would become the basilica of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme. In addition to this, the feast also commemorates another military victory, that of the Emperor Heraclius over the Persians, which led to the return of the main relic of the True Cross to its shrine in Jerusalem in 628.

Our chief reason for observing this feast, however, is not to celebrate mere military victories. It is to rejoice in the “great work of love” by means of which death was conquered on the tree of the Cross. It is from being soaked in the precious and soul-saving Blood of Our Saviour that the Cross attains its power.

The Cross, then, is the symbol and, in part, the source of our salvation. “In this sign you will conquer.” By this sign our enemies are put to flight. By this sign we gain victory over the world, the flesh and the devil. By this sign the Church in Her Sacraments marks us as the property of Christ and protects us from evil. The sign of the Cross is used countless times in our lives by the Church, beginning in our Baptism when we are marked on numerous occasions with the Cross (over our forehead and heart, to consecrate our mind and will to the service of God, over our forehead once again to show that we have been redeemed from the power of the devil, and in the holy anointings which give us spiritual strength and unite us to Christ, the Anointed One).

In the Sacrament of Confirmation, our anointing with Chrism in the sign of the Cross marks our enrolment into Christ’s army. We must never be ashamed of this royal banner of our King. We should make the sign of the Cross often, and with great devotion. Signing ourselves with the Cross and saying “In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” is the means that the Church has given us to ‘tune in’ to that frequency on which we communicate with the Blessed Trinity. We should make sure that we have a blessed crucifix in at least one room in our homes. This serves not only as a reminder of the price of our Redemption, but also as a powerful protection against the work of the devil, whose presence and activity is all too prevalent in the world around us today.

During this month of September, let us ask Our Lord to give us the strength to embrace the Cross in our daily lives. May Our Blessed Lady, whose Nativity we celebrate on the 8th September, accompany us with Her intercession and encouragement along every step of the way of the Cross which is our one and only route to the fullness of life in Eternity.

The Oratory’s relics of the True Cross carry the seals and certificates from the Basilica of Santa Croce which indicate that they are part of the priceless treasure which St Helen carried to Rome in the early Fourth Century, and which she had discovered at the site of Calvary by means of miraculous signs. They are venerated on Good Friday and, indeed, on most Fridays of the year outside of Eastertide, after the evening Mass.

Father Julian Large

August 2020 Letter from the Provost

It is difficult to describe what a relief it was to see our congregation again when public Masses resumed at the beginning of July. Arriving at the Oratory to assist at Holy Mass for the first time since March to find the church swathed in red tape and what the “hi vis” jacket brigade love to call “signage”, parishioners might have been forgiven for assuming that they had stumbled in on a crime scene. However, not even the arrows enforcing one-way systems, nor the reek of disinfectant, nor even the bossy printed leaflets about what to do and what not to do, could alloy the happiness that the fathers experienced in seeing so many familiar faces, and some new ones, after months of lockdown and separation. It had been strange beyond words to celebrate Holy Mass, and even the Holy Week and Easter ceremonies, in our great church with the doors locked and surrounded by a vast sea of empty seats. As Catholics we are members of the Mystical Body of Christ. The supernatural life that animates this Body might, in itself, be invisible but this supernatural and invisible reality unites us into a single living organism which is a very visible expression of the incarnational nature of our holy religion. We need to be together on Sundays. Welcome back.

One of the strictures that the fathers have imposed on themselves in order to allow for the deep cleansing of the church between Masses is brevity in preaching. It was just as well, then, that the Gospel appointed for our first Sunday back together really spoke for itself: “Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy burdened, and I will refresh you” (Mtt 11.28). Long months of imprisonment and isolation have brought considerable burdens to a large part of the population – burdens of anxiety, loneliness, in some cases sickness and bereavement, along with grave concerns about livelihoods and impending poverty. Whatever burdens press us down in the way of apprehension or grief, our Lord opens wide His arms and invites us to share them with Him. He assures us that we are not alone. He carries with us whatever burdens we bring to Him and promises never to abandon us.

There is no better occasion to share these burdens with our Lord than in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. During the Offertory, we are invited to offer up with the bread and the wine all of our sacrifices and sorrows, our hopes and joys – in fact everything we have and everything we are – on the paten and in the chalice, so that when the words of Consecration are spoken, we are truly united with His Sacrifice on Calvary. He is able supernaturally to make use of whatever we bring Him, for our own sanctification and for the building up of His Kingdom on earth. In the Sacrament of Penance, meanwhile, we open the doors of our hearts to Him so that He is able to relieve us of all burdens of guilt and sin, in order that we may look forward to receiving Him in Holy Communion with the assurance that our souls have been well and truly disinfected and restored to the pristine wholeness which we received in Baptism.

Like most things that happen today, the Coronavirus has proven to be a force for division in an already fragmented society. While many seem delighted for the powers and principalities of this world to monitor and direct each and every aspect of their lives, others find the intrusions of the ever-expanding reach of the nanny state objectionable on principle. Newspeak phrases like “social distancing” and “contact tracing” conjure up visions of Orwellian dystopias and exude the whiff of sulphur. Worst of all is “modelling best practice”, pronounced with such cloying relish by the bureaucratic martinets who tend to run everything at management level these days. Looking at the scrupulous precautions that the Oratory fathers are currently taking in the church in the face of Coronavirus, some of our more sceptical parishioners have asked rather cheekily if we have swallowed the latest incarnation of Project Fear hook line and sinker. A word of explanation is due. Whether we truly believe that face masks etc. are really useful, one of our major concerns is to make those who come to the Oratory feel as safe as possible in the current strange climate in which the advice of “experts” often seems to be so contradictory and changeable. A good number of the faithful who worship with us have spent months hermetically sealed in at home being bombarded by the media with terrifying prognoses of apocalyptic scenarios unfolding on the streets around them. Coming to Mass will be the first time that some will have dared to venture out, and in this highly-charged atmosphere we should all of us show solicitude and thoughtfulness towards those who feel nervous and even fearful about coming to church. For this reason, if for no other, we ask everyone to take the tedious instructions seriously and just be glad that we have been allowed to unlock the doors at all.

The last time the government of this realm took away our freedom to offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass it took three centuries for it to be restored. We can be grateful that this recent hiatus lasted just three and a half months. Let us implore our Blessed Lady Assumed into Heaven to intercede for us so that the current circumstances will soon change, in order that we can deposit all the red tape, “signage”, and the bossy printed instructions, in the dustbin where they belong.

Father Julian Large

July 2020 Letter from the Provost

The word miracle comes from the Latin miraculum, which is an object of wonder. One of the purposes of Our Lord’s miracles was to cause amazement in the minds of the beholders. His miracles demonstrate that He has power over the created order. They give Him credibility, so that when He makes claims which indicate His divinity they have to be taken seriously.

The multiplication of a few loaves and two fish into a feast that fed five thousand was a miracle so effective at causing wonder that the crowds who witnessed it and benefitted from it wanted to crown Him as a king. It might surprise us that He declined this opportunity of establishing His Kingdom on earth and made for the hills. After all, we Catholics honour Our Lord as Christ the King, with universal sovereignty over the whole of creation. Why should He not have accepted a throne that was owed to Him, and allowed these people to subject themselves to His reign?

The answer is that their appreciation of this miracle was as yet too shallow. For them, His supernatural powers promised prosperity for Israel. Never again hunger, or the fear of famine. No more poverty. This wonder worker seemed to offer an instant solution to every social problem.

Their attitude might well remind us of the temptations that came to Our Lord during His fast in the wilderness. They came directly from the devil. “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread,” said Satan, before promising Our Lord all the kingdoms of the earth if only He would bow down before him. Our Saviour’s answers to the devil were sublime: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God,” and “it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve Him only’.”

This riposte remains as valid today as it did then, and it is one that the Church, constantly tempted by Satan, must always keep in mind in Her dealings with the powers of this world. “What sort of God is it that allows the world to go hungry?” is the demand with which we are so often assailed. The answer must be “Yes, of course God could multiply a few crumbs into a banquet vast enough to feed the population of this planet many times over. But such a miracle in itself would do nothing whatsoever to remove greed from a single human heart, or to dispel the selfishness that causes injustice.”

The truth is that Christ came into the world to perform a much greater work than turning stones into bread. He came to transform us, by changing hearts of stone into blazing furnaces of Divine Charity, so that those of us who are His disciples will lead the way in sharing what we have with those who have nothing, and building His Kingdom through our obedience and sacrifices.

It is only when there is universal obedience to the laws which God has written into nature that we can ever hope to see a solution to poverty, hunger and all injustices. When God’s laws are ignored in favour of purely material interests then the results can only be catastrophic. Communism promised bread for everyone. The reality was not only queues that stretched outside the bakeries for miles, but moral and spiritual starvation on a dreadful scale.

The crowds who wanted to crown Our Lord after His multiplication of loaves would no doubt have been happy for Him to build a kingdom in alignment with their own values. There is a lot of this attitude around today. It is present amongst those within the Church in those who insist that the Church’s raison d’être is essentially social activism. We find it in those who denigrate the church for her teaching on the use of contraception, on abortion and euthanasia. Faced with such opposition, it is easy for those of us who are responsible for preaching the Gospel to cave in, or to evade giving a clear answer. Perhaps it is naively imagined that if we are seen to be willing to compromise on the hot topics of the day then the media will give us a break and finally acknowledge that we can all work together in creating a brave new world in which scruples about the Commandments which God gave to Moses amid thunder and lightning on Mount Sinai have been conveniently sacrificed on the altar of secularist consensus.

The Mystical Body of Christ on earth cannot do business with the world on such terms. This is because Her primary concern is always the salvation of souls. To be true to Her identity as the Bride of Christ, She must teach what She has always taught, in perfect continuity with the Deposit of Faith that was entrusted by Our Lord to His Apostles.

The Church sees in the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes a meaning which is profoundly sacramental. Just as the transformation of water into wine at Cana prefigures the transformation of bread and wine into Our Lord’s Body and Blood in the Sacrifice of the Mass, so the feeding of the five thousand points to another wondrous aspect of the Blessed Sacrament. It shows how Our Lord’s one and undivided Body – the same Body that Ascended into Heaven and sits now at the right hand of the Father – is able to feed so many millions of men and women, in all generations and in every part of the globe, at the Altar. We must pray that the restrictions currently in place in this time of pestilence will soon be amended so that Our Lord may again feed millions of people around the world in Holy Communion. Our Lord changes bread into Himself so that we might in turn be transformed when we receive Him, and then set about transforming this broken, wounded world around us.

Father Julian Large

June 2020 Letter from the Provost

Along with the Chiesa Nuova, San Girolamo della Carità and San Giovanni dei Fiorentini, one of the Roman churches of special interest to anyone with an Oratorian connection is the beautiful Santissima Trinità dei Pellegrini. In the heart of the historical centre, this church was built to serve a confraternity that was co-founded by our holy father St Philip while still a layman, to care for pilgrims attending the Holy Year celebrations of 1550.

The first thing you will notice on entering the Church of Santissima Trinità is the magnificent painting over the High Altar. A masterpiece by the great baroque artist Guido Reni, it depicts the Blessed Trinity. Our Lord hangs on the Cross, with a dove hovering over His head, while God the Father opens wide His arms in a gesture of acceptance of His Beloved Son’s perfect Sacrifice.

I once took a Protestant friend to visit this church and he remarked that seeing a picture of the Trinity made him feel uneasy. Painting the Son, he said, was one thing; but surely the Father and the Holy Ghost transcend depiction?

Reading Holy Scripture, however, we find that the prototype for all Christian images of the Trinity is to be found in the Gospel. At the beginning of His ministry, when our Lord is baptized by St John, the Holy Ghost appears over His head in the form of a dove, and the voice of the Father announces from Heaven: “This is my Son, the Beloved, in Whom I am well pleased.” (Mtt 3.17) This scene is like an icon of the Blessed Trinity. The fact is that God and His Church often use signs and images to draw us into the mysteries of our Faith. The visible gives us an entrée into those invisible realities which “pass all understanding”. (Phil 4.7)

The revelation of the Blessed Trinity is one of those earth-shattering moments in the history of God’s relationship with man. And it is significant for us that it occurs within the context of Baptism. In the Christian Sacrament of Baptism, we unite ourselves with the death of God the Son and with His Resurrection. God the Holy Ghost takes up residence within us, so that we become living temples of His Presence. God the Father recognises us as His beloved children. Baptism is a truly Trinitarian event.

Saint John the Evangelist tells us that “God is love.” (1 Jn 4.8;16) This is a popular idea today. But what does it mean? One thing it doesn’t mean is that God is a warm feeling inside us. This might sound obvious. But there are a lot of people today who confuse love with sentiment. This is one reason why many marriages fail. When the initial thrill of courtship and romance fades, then what the young couple thought was love dissolves; and we are too often left with the tragedy of divorce and a broken family.

If we meditate on the Blessed Trinity, we should come to understand that love is not a sentiment at all. It is an act. The life of God is characterized by an eternal and infinite procession of love between the Three Persons of Father, Son and Holy Ghost. And the more we contemplate this outpouring of self, the better we come to realize that this sort of love which is marked by self-giving is the very essence of the Christian life into which we enter through Baptism.

The Blessed Trinity was a very fitting dedication for the Church of the Pilgrims in Rome precisely because the love of the Triune God is so perfectly disinterested and selfless. God has nothing to gain for Himself through the act of Creation. The eternal flow of perfect love between the Three Divine Persons means that God has no need of us – He finds complete fulfilment within His own Life. His act of Creation must therefore be a work of purely gratuitous generosity. He brought us, and the angels, into being so that we might participate in His divine life.

Those pilgrims who needed looking after at the church of the Most Holy Trinity when they arrived in Rome were usually poor and often lame. Most of them had nothing to give in recompense for the care that was lavished on them. It was self-giving overflowing love that moved St Philip and his companions to perform this beautiful act of charity, exposing themselves to contagion and infestation as they bathed and bound the feet of their guests and fed them. This ministry to the poor was a way of living to the full that life of the Blessed Trinity that had been infused into them in Baptism.

If we want to imitate the love that characterizes the life of the Trinity, we must seek to show charity to those who have nothing to give in return. It is always easy to love attractive people who enhance our lives. To love with the charity of the Trinity, however, we have to include the disadvantaged, the needy and the lonely in our lives.

If ever the razor wire is lifted and you are able to make a pilgrimage to Rome, please visit that church that was built for pilgrims. Gaze on the wonderful painting over the High Altar, and meditate on what the Divine Love means for us – that Almighty God allowed His Majesty to be outraged on the Cross, so that we might be able to participate in the Life of the Blessed Trinity. At Holy Mass, when the Sacred Host is raised, and then the Chalice, during the Consecration, picture in your mind our Lord on His Cross, with the Father opening His arms to receive His Son’s oblation, and the Holy Ghost hovering, like the personification of the Love that flows between Father and Son. That is the reality of what we happens on the Altar.

Father Julian Large

May 2020 Letter from the Provost

Shortly before the lockdown there was a christening at the Oratory attended by a whole army of children belonging to godparents and other guests. Just as the ritual was beginning, one young girl shouted out “Where is Jesus?”, a question that she continued to ask with impressive insistence as the ceremonies proceeded. No sooner had the water been poured and the baby snatched from the threshold of Limbo than a now indignant voice once again demanded: “Where is He?” Her parents were embarrassed by their daughter’s stealing of the limelight. But the truth is that the best and most important questions are usually those asked by children. And if that little girl continues to ask that same question for the rest of her life, then she could well become a great saint, because a saint is someone who is always looking for Jesus.

A man who has fallen head over heels in love can think of little else than the object of his affection. He will go to the places he knows she frequents in the hope of finding his beloved. The first thing he will do on entering a crowded room is to scan the heads of everyone present to see if she is there. He reflects on everything she says so that he might begin to understand what she thinks on any subject. If his love is not requited, he does well to heed the counsel of his trusted friends and pull himself together, lest in these highly strung times he find himself denounced as a stalker and subject to a court injunction.

The single-mindedness of a saint is somewhat similar. Wherever he is, whatever he is doing or enduring, the saint asks “Where can I find Our Lord in all of this ... what does He have to say to me in this place, in these circumstances?” He reflects over and again on those words of His Saviour which have been recorded by the Evangelists, just as a lover will turn over the words of his beloved ad infinitum. You might say that a saint is someone who is obsessed with Christ. This is probably the only really healthy obsession that a man can have.

So what answer can we give to that question “Where is Jesus?” As God, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity is everywhere. The universe that was made by Him is kept in existence by His power and His will from one moment to the next, so that He is constantly present to His Creation. He is also present, in a special way, in our neighbour. Genesis tells us that God created man in His own image, and one way that we honour God is by serving Him in our neighbour, especially by ministering to Him in the needy and the sick. And, of course, he is present in His entirety – in His Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity – in the Blessed Sacrament on the Altar.

Without wishing to be presumptuous, it is probably safe to assume that when the little girl at the Baptism asked “Where is Jesus?”, what she really wanted to know was where He is now, in that recognisable form in which He lived on earth and spoke to His disciples. The answer to that question is that the Word Made Flesh is now in Heaven, at the right hand of the Father. This is where He went when the disciples saw Him disappear into the clouds at His Ascension. And He has promised that when He returns it will be in glory from the clouds when His presence fills the skies from East to West.

Our Lord’s Ascension tells us something very important about the Incarnation. God the Son did not just assume our human flesh as a way of making contact with earthlings and then discard it once His mission down here was complete. The fulfilment of His mission involved taking the flesh in which He had suffered with Him into Heaven. This brings Heaven much closer to us. It makes Heaven not just a state that is quite impossible for us to begin to imagine (throughout history there have been many heretics who have argued that if Heaven exists at all then it must be some disembodied state of existence). Our Lord’s Ascension and His Mother’s Assumption mean that there are at least two bodies already present there. Even if we cannot now conceive of the bliss of the Beatific Vision, bodies exist in real places, not in any mere state.

Our Lord has gone body and soul to Heaven, then, in order to prepare a place for our bodies and souls. This should be a source of immense hope and consolation to us now, when we must cope with the difficult reality of sickness, death and bereavement all around us. There can never be any such thing as perfect fulfilment in this fallen world. Even if someone has been blessed with good health, friends and a well-stocked pantry, he would have to be a monster of selfishness not to have his satisfaction with this life somewhat diminished by the knowledge that so many in the world are stricken by sickness, poverty and hunger. And however happy we might be ourselves, we shall each of us at some stage be faced with the terrible separation that comes with death – separation from our loved ones, and ultimately the separation of our own bodies and souls. But in faith we know that whatever we might suffer here and now, there has been prepared for us a place where there is no sickness, no bereavement, loneliness or poverty. In Heaven there is perfect joy and love overflowing in plentiful abundance for eternity. In Heaven there will be perfect fulfilment on every level, not only spiritual but also bodily as the Vision of God transforms our whole being.

In His Epistle to the Ephesians the Apostle St Paul reminds us that “Christ is the head of the Church which is his body.” In Baptism, we have been incorporated into this Body as living members. This consideration should also bring Heaven much closer to us. We are members of a Body Whose Head is already in Heaven. That Head is Christ, and it is His divine life that animates us now and binds us up into the single living organism of His Church.

One day, pray, we shall not only see Him in His Glory but shall participate in that Glory forever. Then the time for Faith will have passed, because the reality of that Glory will be undeniable and unmistakable. Meanwhile we must continue to seek for Our Lord amid the joys and sorrows of our present life, seeking Him especially in our neighbour. We must also look for him in the circumstances and situations of our daily lives, asking: “What is He saying to me in all of this?” And we must worship Him in Faith, especially in the Blessed Sacrament. When He returns in Glory to judge us in our flesh, may He recognize us as His own.

Father Julian Large

April 2020 Letter from the Provost

In the Creation account in Genesis we read how, at the end of each day, God looked at what He had made and saw that it was good. In other words, He made nothing bad, and neither was there any imperfection in His work. Only when Adam and Eve abused the freedom which God had given them did sickness, suffering and death became a part of human experience.

Sickness and death, then, were never a part of God’s original intention for the human race. They are the consequence of sin, although we have to be scrupulously careful in how we apply this truth: when we see someone suffering from illness, we are not allowed to assume that that person is sick because he sinned. Many innocent people suffer – young children who have never sinned, and some of the greatest saints, have endured terrible sufferings. If Adam and Eve had never sinned, however, there would be no suffering, and so there is an undeniable connection between suffering and sin.

Just as God created nothing bad, so He can never will anything evil. He may, however, allow something evil to happen in order that some good may prevail. In times of plague and other natural disaster, Christians naturally ask why God allowed this to happen. The answer is always the same: God is calling fallen man to his senses. He is reminding us that we are not as in control as we might like to think, and that our illusions of progress and self-sufficiency will all crumble into the dust if we take our eyes off Him.

Throughout history, the response of the Church to pestilence has always included the call to repentance and penance. During Lent, Her liturgy reminds us of the Ninevites who responded to Jonah’s preaching with conversion from their wickedness and a solemn fast, and so were spared from the sentence of destruction which God had proclaimed over them. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah, where Abraham could not even muster a handful of just men to stand before God, did not fare so well. The message of Holy Scripture is consistent, however, and should fill us with hope: God desires not the death of a sinner, but that he should be converted from his ways and live (Ezekiel 33.11).

When it became clear that the scourge of Coronavirus had reached these shores, a journalist telephoned the Oratory to ask what precautions we were taking. The obvious answer was that we were preaching the urgent necessity to make a thorough examination of conscience, to go to Confession and receive sacramental absolution for sins, and to make as sure as we are able that we are all in a state of grace. Of course, we were also taking the necessary practical precautions to minimise the dangers of facilitating contagion. But the first instinct of a Catholic when danger looms will always be to consider the condition of his immortal soul, and the spiritual as well as the physical well-being of his loved ones.

At the end of the day, masks, sanitising hand-gel, and even our attempts at self-isolation, are far from fail-safe against infection from an invisible disease. We do, however, have an invincible remedy against the even more insidious malaise of sin, in the Sacrament of Penance. If we have spiritually died, by mortal sin, Confession even has the power to raise us from the dead. Once in a state of grace we are in a position to make reparation, through our prayers, fasting and almsgiving, both for our own personal sins and for those sins which “cry to Heaven” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1867), and which have become institutionalised in our society.

The policy of social-distancing which is the justification for closing our churches is a concept which seems quite alien to us as Catholics. The sacramental life of the Church is something which, by its very nature, requires physical proximity. It is around the Altar at Sunday Mass that the Church on earth takes on Her most visible and tangible form as a united whole in which priest and faithful are incorporated in a single living organism,  enlivened by Christ Who is the Head of His Mystical Body. The normal response of the Church in the face of approaching disaster is for us to gather our forces and make manifestations of our faith and trust in a God Who listens to and answers the prayers of His children. If extraordinary circumstances currently impede solemn Masses of reparation and processions and we are confined to barracks, then it is imperative that we fight this battle from home. Our Lenten observances of fasting and almsgiving are a powerful means we have of boosting the value of our prayers before the Throne of Grace.

While our doors, regrettably, remain locked for the time being, the Oratory resembles a humming bee-hive of activity in the early mornings, as the fathers quietly offer the Mass privately in the various chapels around the church. Please unite yourselves with the Holy Sacrifice that is being offered spiritually, in the knowledge that we are carrying your needs and intentions with us to the altars in our hearts.

The most worrying aspect of the current lock-down scenario for priests is the obstacles that we are likely to encounter in ministering to those who are sick and dying. If you are taken into hospital, please emphasise that you are Catholic and desire the ministrations of a Catholic priest. At these times when access to Sacramental Confession and Extreme Unction cannot be taken for granted, we should all memorise the Act of Perfect Contrition, or carry it with us. With gatherings for Baptisms suspended, parents should note that in an emergency anyone (Christian or not) may validly and licitly administer the Sacrament of Baptism if he makes an intention to do what the Church intends and uses the proper formula as he pours the water (please see our website for more detailed instructions on the Act of Perfect Contrition and emergency Baptism).

During this Lent, when the sacrifices that we must make are unusually stringent, let us conquer fear with faith as we fix our eyes on Easter, in the firm conviction that the Resurrection has the last word over sickness and death. In our Baptism we received the vocation to keep on dying to ourselves so that the life of the Resurrection might come to full and perfect fruition within us. For many of us, this Lent gives us more opportunity to live this vocation than usual. Be assured that we are praying daily for your wellbeing, spiritual and bodily.

Father Julian Large

March 2020 Letter from the Provost

By the time this letter appears, we shall have made (and possibly broken) our Lenten resolutions. Perseverance is of the essence in the Christian life. We really need to renew our good resolutions on a daily basis, and this will sometimes mean asking God’s pardon for lapses and starting again. If for some reason we have yet to make any serious resolutions then we should certainly do so now, so that when Easter arrives we are prepared to share most fully in the life of Our Lord’s Resurrection, having united ourselves with His Passion and death through our self-denial and prayer, and above all our growth in charity, during this penitential season.

          Sometimes we hear it said that it feels more meaningful to “do something positive rather than to give something up” for Lent. Traditionally, however, the Church enjoins us to do both. Lenten observance means fasting, praying and giving alms. These are practices which should characterise our lives as Christians in general, but in Lent we focus on them with greater intensity, and especially on the penitential aspect.

          In our Catholic religion, there is no morbid cult of suffering for its own sake, and asceticism is always a means to an end. Denying ourselves legitimate pleasures loosens the grip that earthly goods hold over our appetites, and helps us to grow in virtue so that we are better placed, with God’s assistance, to avoid temptations to sin. Other religions and even non-religious self-improvement programmes, also recognise the benefit of self denial. For a Christian, however, mortification also holds a supernatural dimension which is rooted in Our Lord’s own Passion and death. Writing to the Colossians, St Paul says: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.” (Col 1.24) Obviously, it would be blasphemy to suggest that there is anything ‘lacking’ in Christ’s Passion, when one drop of His Precious Blood is more than enough to save the world many times over. On the Cross He stretched out His arms in love to offer once and for all a perfect sacrifice of infinite value. In our Baptism, however, we are united with His Passion and Death, and receive the vocation to keep dying to ourselves so that the life of His Resurrection might take ever greater possession of our hearts and souls. In the ‘Economy of Salvation’, God has ordained that the sufferings that come to us unbidden, and the mortifications that we embrace voluntarily, take on a supernatural value when united with His Sacrifice on Calvary. God is able to use our sacrifices not only for our own sanctification but also for the building up of His Kingdom on earth and the strengthening of His Mystical Body the Church.

          The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, at which the once-and-for-all Sacrifice of Calvary is made present in an unbloody fashion on the Altar, is our opportunity par excellence to ‘offer us’ any discomforts, hunger pangs and inconveniences occasioned by our Lenten penances. During the Offertory, we are invited to unite ourselves spiritually with the bread on the paten and with the wine in the chalice, offering all of our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears – everything that we have and everything that we are – so that when the Death of Our Lord Jesus is made present by the separate consecration of the gifts, we are mystically and truly united with that Sacrifice. The priest reminds us that we are active participants in this Sacrifice when he says “Pray brethren that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the Almighty Father.” Just as the celebrant has a main intention for the Mass, so we all may bring our own intentions to the Altar – intentions for ourselves, our loved ones, the suffering and the faithful departed, confident that our aches and pains, and all the frustrations that come from living in this deranged modern world, can take on great value when united with the sufferings of our Saviour.

          Mercifully, the rigours of Lent are lightened by various feast days which occur during the season, the greatest of which is the Annunciation. When the Blessed Virgin gave Her fiat to the Archangel Gabriel, She made possible our redemption, and so we honour the Mother of God, in whose womb and by whose co-operation the Word became flesh, as the Mediatrix of all Graces. In a unique manner She united Her own indescribable sufferings with those of Her Son on Calvary, and offered in union with Him His own perfect sacrifice on the Cross, earning Her the title of Co-Redemptrix. As our Mother in Heaven, She also teaches us how to share in this work of redemption ourselves, by bringing our personal sacrifices to the foot of the Cross on Calvary, and offering them with the gifts on the Altar. May the Blessed Virgin accompany us during this season, helping us to make our participation at Holy Mass ever more focused and profound so that it bears spiritual fruit in abundance.

          Talking of participation, anyone concerned about the risks of catching the Coronavirus at Holy Communion should bear in mind that while we are constrained by precept to attend Holy Mass on all Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation, we are only obliged to receive Holy Communion once a year, “and that at Easter, or thereabouts.” If we are worried about spreading or contracting disease through our reception of the Blessed Sacrament, then Spiritual Communion may be made with great benefit to the soul without going anywhere near the altar rails. May the intercession of our Blessed Mother, Mediatrix of all Graces and Co-Redemptrix, protect us from all harm.

Father Julian Large

February 2020 Letter from the Provost

We tend to associate Shrove Tuesday with pancakes, which in former days were an excellent way of using up eggs, flour, milk and other ingredients before the rigours of Lent, and which remain a welcome source of nourishment before the fasting and abstinence of Ash Wednesday. The name Shrove comes from the Middle English word shriven, because the Tuesday before Lent begins is a suitable time for us to be absolved of our sins (or “shriven”) in the Sacrament of Penance.

          The prospect of confession is something that makes many people nervous. The thought of opening the darkest secrets of our hearts to another person can be disagreeable to say the least. Probably this is why even some Catholics are tempted to take the Protestant approach expressed in the sentiment: “I don’t need to confess my sins to a priest, when I can confess them directly to God.”

          The truth, of course, is that we can confess our sins directly to God. Venial sins are forgiven through an act of contrition, both privately and in the general confession which we make together at the beginning of Holy Mass. They may also be forgiven through the devout use of the Church’s sacramentals, such as making the sign of the Cross with Holy Water when we come into church. Even mortal sins may be expunged from our souls with an act of perfect contrition. We should pray that those who die without the Sacraments are given and cooperate with the grace of this sort of contrition before their souls depart from their bodies. But we can never really be certain that our own act of contrition involved total sorrow for our sins motivated by the love of God, because only He can read the innermost movements of our heart with absolute clarity. This is why the Church enjoins us to avail ourselves of the Sacrament of Penance at the nearest opportunity if we have sinned mortally, even after making an act of perfect contrition. Sacraments give us certainty.

          A mortal sin is one which expunges the flame of Sanctifying Grace that was ignited in our hearts in the Sacrament of Baptism. It must involve grave matter and knowledge of that gravity, and must have been committed freely and willingly. Telling a lie which makes someone look slightly silly is a venial sin that needs repenting of and somehow rectifying. Initiating a calumny that causes serious damage to a neighbour is a mortal sin that requires us being restored to the life of grace, in addition to making restitution by restoring the reputation of our victim. God has ordained that what was given to us in one Sacrament (Sanctifying Grace, in Baptism) is to be restored to us, if lost, in another Sacrament (the Sacrament of Penance, in which we receive sacramental absolution from a priest).

          Our Lord instituted the Sacrament of Penance immediately after His Resurrection. The Apostles were hiding in the Upper Room in Jerusalem having abandoned Our Lord during His Passion and in fear for their lives, when He came to them and said: “Peace be to you.” Breathing on them He continued: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” (Jn 20.23) Through the Sacrament of Holy Order, which He had also instituted in that very room at the Last Supper, that same healing, refreshing and restorative breath is breathed into our hearts today when a priest utters over us the words “I absolve you of your sins”. In the Sacrament of Penance, God not only forgives us, but blesses and renews us, and gives us the assurance of His presence and His friendship in our lives.

          In a Sacrament, the ‘ingredients’ required on our part are always relatively humble and easy to acquire. In return, God gives us something of inestimable value. In Baptism, the pouring of water brings us everlasting life, and in the Holy Mass bread and wine are transformed into His Living Body and Blood. In Penance, the essential ingredients consist of our contrition, the verbal confession of our sins and satisfaction (our intention to perform the prayer or good work given us by the priest). Ideally, love of God should be our motivation for confessing, but He does not insist that our contrition be perfect. For our sins to be forgiven it is sufficient that we fear their eternal consequences, or wish to be rid of the sense of guilt. In return we are infused with an abundance of Sanctifying Grace. Perseverance in the frequentation of the Sacrament of Penance brings saints ever closer to perfection and helps hardened sinners to break free from the chains which habits of sin have been forging over a lifetime.

          As Lent approaches, we should reflect on the use we make of the priceless gift that is the Sacrament of Confession. And when Shrove Tuesday arrives, may we remember the origin of the name Shrove, as well as enjoying our pancakes.

Father Julian Large

January 2020 Letter from the Provost

The Feast of the Epiphany marks the manifestation of Our Lord’s Divinity to the gentile world. No longer will salvation be the preserve of a particular race. Thanks to the Incarnation, we are all called to belong to God’s chosen people. When the Magi fall to their knees and offer to the Christ Child the highest form of worship (Latria, in Greek) that is due to God alone, Isaiah’s great prophesy is magnificently fulfilled: “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light; on those who dwell in the shadow of death, a light has dawned.” (Is 9.2)

          Of course, much of the world today does not associate our Catholic Faith with light, but rather with darkness. To many of our contemporaries religious faith is associated rather with ignorance and superstition. In the western world, this negative view of religion has been gaining ground ever since that revolution in thinking and culture that is known as the Enlightenment, the luminaries of which claimed to champion the supremacy of reason over all else. Their aim was to chase away all shadows, so that the undiluted light of pure and perfect reason might be allowed to flood into every aspect of human life.

          The end result of all of this, however, was not necessarily enlightenment, but rather a severe form of light pollution. And just like the light pollution that blights every modern city like London, it has prevented man from seeing the stars. As a result we are in danger of becoming blinded to so much that is beautiful and holy. This loss of the sense of the sacred is one of the tragedies afflicting our world today, and it is dangerous because when people lose their sense of the sacred, then we find ourselves living in a society that is increasingly frustrated, neurotic and brutish.

          So we have these two conflicting understandings of light: the light of the Gospel, that opens our vision to the mysteries of salvation and illuminates the meaning and destiny of our lives; and then we have that searing cold light that aims to banish all mystery and transcendence to the dustbin of history. One light gives life. The other ultimately brings death. And the source of the latter can surely be traced to that fallen angel whose name – Lucifer – means ‘bearer of light’. Lucifer’s aim is to drag us into his own misery. And how much misery has the world seen in the name of progress – a progress that always claims to be purely rational and scientific, since the Enlightenment. The Terror of the French Revolution was at the beginning of it. The ‘modernization’ projects of Marxist and Nationalist Socialism in the 20th century were further manifestations of Lucifer’s project of dehumanizing the human race, and of blinding man to his supernatural destiny of eternal life.

          It is up to us as Christians to make sure that the liberating, life-giving light of the Gospel prevails over the false light brought by Lucifer. We have to manifest this light in the way we live, and in the witness we bear to our Faith. Human reason is something wonderful. The ability to know and to love, which is a part of human nature, means that every man, woman and child carries a reflection of the nature of God. But human reason on its own can never transport us to the sublime heights of knowledge and love for which we have been created. We need the gift of faith to elevate our reason to the realm of mystery.

          The hostility with which some people react when they learn that we are Catholics can actually be an opening to fruitful discussion. Religion used to be one of those subjects considered inappropriate for polite conversation. But now it has become quite normal for someone to launch an attack on the Church or on Catholic beliefs at an otherwise congenial social event. How we respond is important. We could always say nothing, but what a missed opportunity that would be. Perhaps the best response, initially, is something simple: “Actually I am a Catholic. And yes, my Catholic Faith is the most beautiful and the most important thing in my life. In fact, it means more to me than anything.”  We might get punched in the face, but our answer might be just enough to make someone ask himself what it is exactly that gives us so much assurance.

          If we want to have a good look at the stars, then we need to get out of the city – preferably to a remote hilltop from where we can gaze in silent amazement at the beauty of the night sky. We need to do something similar with our Faith. We should make time to reflect on the truths and mysteries of our Catholic religion. Through reading and prayer, give those truths the opportunity to come into focus and to shine brilliantly in our consciousness. Having been blessed with the vision of Faith, may we exercise it and share it. During this Epipanytide, may the Magi guide us on this journey.

Father Julian Large

December 2019 Letter from the Provost

Exactly nine months before Christmas day we celebrated the visit of an Angel to a Virgin in Nazareth. That young girl was quite unknown to the great and the good of this world, but the Angel delivered to Her a message which offered the fulfilment of all the promises of the Old Testament and of every noble human aspiration. The young Virgin was free to say no. She might have protested that She was not worthy, in which case we might well have commended Her modesty. Thank God for us, though, She did not say no. In perfect meekness and obedience She trusted in God and She said yes, and it is thanks to Her “fiat” that the Church on earth gathers together on Christmas day to celebrate an event even more wonderful than the Annunciation.

          In that moment in which the Virgin said yes, the promised Child was conceived by the Holy Ghost in Her womb, and over the following nine months, an embryo developed and grew in the same way as any human foetus. But the Child that was born on Christmas day was no ordinary child. That Child was God made man, in the universe-changing miracle of the Incarnation.

          Just as that divinely begotten embryo had developed and grown in a mother’s womb like any human life, so the Christ Child, like unto us in all things but sin, would grow to maturity much like any human child. Most of His early life was passed in obscurity, but the Gospel of St Luke tells us that during those years living with His parents “Jesus advanced in wisdom and age, and grace with God and men.” (Lk 2.52) Eventually the Child would mature through adolescence into adulthood. And when, at last, His divine identity was manifested to the world, it was as if the world could not abide the magnitude of such a truth. The religious authorities of the day conspired with the pagan powers successfully to have Him killed.

          The Crucifixion, however, failed to halt that process of growth that had begun at the moment when the Blessed Virgin of Nazareth gave Her fiat to the Angel. Indeed, with His Resurrection and Ascension into Heaven, that increase had only really just begun. Following Pentecost, Christ in His Church began to fill the whole world, until His divine presence was brought to every continent, filling the planet with the blazing light of the Gospel. On altars at Holy Mass, the Word would become flesh in every generation and in every corner of the globe.

          It might seem that this presence is in danger of diminishing in our era. In the land we call holy because its soil was sanctified by the footsteps of the Incarnate Word, the life of Christians becomes increasingly unsustainable, while in other parts of the Middle East sanctuaries stand desecrated and tabernacles defiled in towns where Christians had worshipped since the earliest days of the Faith. Closer to home, our excellent Catholic adoption agencies have already been closed owing to the bigotry of secularist ideologues, and our schools could conceivably become the next victims to be sacrificed on the altars of political correctness. Within the Church Herself, meanwhile, an existing crisis of credibility caused by betrayals of trust and abuse of authority can only be compounded for years to come if the culture of political spin that has blighted public life in recent decades is allowed to take root in the Mystical Body of Christ on earth.

          The Gospel appointed for Christmas day should give us great courage. Saint John the Evangelist warns us that from the very beginning the light that is Christ was surrounded by swirling clouds of darkness, but the darkness did not and could not comprehend it. The darkness has been trying its hardest to smother that light ever since, but never will. The Christ Child we worship at the crib and consume at the altar has given His guarantee that the gates of hell will not prevail. He issues a vocation to each of us, and He enunciates that call as clearly today as He has in every generation. He invites us to welcome Him into our lives, so that with the Prince of Peace enthroned in our hearts, His light will shine in and through us like a beacon in the darkness. Like the Virgin in Nazareth, we should say yes. If we are to flourish as individuals, and to realise the potential for growth and maturity which God sees in us, then we have to dethrone the ego and enthrone the Christ Child. Allow Him to take possession of us so that we may become what God created us to be. That way we shall play our part in dispelling the shadows of darkness that threaten to engulf the light, and we shall advance in wisdom and in grace with God.

Father Julian Large

November 2019 Letter from the Provost

“Mark my words,” our holy father St Philip once said, “if you live long enough, you will see me hanged like a common criminal in this city of Rome.” This rather startling statement eventually made sense to those of his congregation who were still alive in May 1615, when the banner for his Beatification was suspended from a balustrade at St Peter’s basilica. Those who managed to survive another seven years would see him “hanged” once again at his Canonisation.

          Last month, many of us looked up in wonder and joy at the magnificent banner of our saint-to-be John Henry Newman, as it flapped in the breeze high above the papal throne in St Peter’s Square. It was touching to see that the portrait chosen did not depict him in the splendid robes of a cardinal, but rather in his simple Oratorian habit. Newman may be described as many things – a prophet, a scholar, a great prelate, and one of the greatest polemicists of his age. And we can be sure that his path to sainthood began long before his reception into what he called “the One True Fold of the Redeemer” in 1845. But it was ultimately as a son of St Philip that he persevered unto death in his baptismal grace, and was brought ever closer to perfection by the cultivation of that spirit of self-mortification that made his virtue heroic.

          All of the celebrations in Rome attracted great crowds. At the end of the beautiful prayer vigil at St Mary Major’s on the evening Saturday 12 October there was hardly a dry eye in the Basilica as we recessed out singing Newman’s Lead Kindly Light. The atmosphere at the Mass of Canonisation the following morning was one of profound prayerfulness and gratitude, and was greatly enhanced by the singing of the London Oratory Schola, which carried hearts and minds to God at all of the celebrations in Rome. At a reception after the Canonisation the Prince of Wales paid tribute to our new saint in words that acknowledged the plight of the Catholic Church “in a land in which it had once been uprooted”, and expressed gratitude to the Catholic community in Britain “for its immeasurably valuable contribution to our country’s life.”

          In the formal act of Canonisation, the Successor of St Peter declared that “for the honour of the Blessed Trinity, the exaltation of the Catholic Faith, and the increase of the Christian life”, he was invoking the authority invested in the papal office by our Lord Jesus Christ to inscribe John Henry Newman in the roll call of the saints and decreeing that henceforth he is to receive veneration from the whole Church. To those who have long held a devotion to St John Henry, this solemn declaration might have seemed like something of a rubber stamping – the official recognition of something we have long believed, that Newman has been in Heaven all along. But this is to underestimate the magnitude of the gift that Canonisation is to the Church. With St John Henry raised to the altars for universal veneration, we can be confident that the full fruits of his intercession are yet to be seen.

          Undoubtedly, St John Henry’s earthly achievements have enriched our Catholic culture. Take the trouble to read his work carefully and we find that he brings clarity and light at a time when there is so much confusion and darkness. His precision of intellect is a powerful antidote to the tyranny of emotionalism which currently reigns supreme. But it is on the supernatural level that we should now expect him to work the greatest wonders. Both of the subjects of his verified miracles played an active part in the ceremonies in Rome. We should pray that he will continue to work miracles, in the Church, in our own personal lives, and in the lives of our loved ones.

          Those of us who were fortunate to be present for the Canonisation in Rome were delighted to hear that the Sunday High Mass back at the ranch in Brompton was packed to the doors. On the following Thursday we were greatly blessed with the presence His Eminence Vincent Cardinal Nichols, who has been such a strong advocate for the cause of Newman’s Canonisation, and who celebrated a Pontifical High Mass of Thanksgiving in the presence of the Apostolic Nuncio, many clergy and another full congregation. On both occasions a solemn Te Deum was sung, and at the end of the Pontifical Mass the Cardinal blessed us with St John Henry’s relic.

          On All Saints day, we should give thanks in our hearts that the Church has given us a new advocate at the Throne of Grace. In any monarchy it is always a blessing to have friends at court. The special patrons of the London Oratory include Our Lady, the Queen of Heaven, our holy father St Philip, and now St John Henry, the first Father of our congregation in London.  May they intercede for the Oratory and for the extended family that worships with us and supports us. We have much to be grateful for, and as gratitude is the father of generosity, let us be especially benevolent throughout November in the prayers that we offer, and in the Masses we have celebrated, for the Holy Souls in Purgatory.

Father Julian Large

October 2019 Letter from the Provost

On Sunday the 13th October, Bl. John Henry Newman will be canonised during a papal celebration of Holy Mass in St Peter’s Square in Rome. At a canonisation, the Successor of St Peter declares that a person practised heroic virtue and lived in fidelity with God’s grace to such an extent  that we may now be certain that he is interceding for us in Heaven. Verified miracles are accepted as proof that our saint is working on our behalf at the Throne of Grace, and as evidence that God looks favourably on the canonisation. While beatification allows public veneration in particular localities and congregations, canonisation raises a saint to the altars for the purpose of liturgical cult throughout the whole Catholic Church on earth.

Blessed John Henry’s canonization is a great blessing for the London Oratory. Although now we correctly talk about the English Oratories in the plural, what would become the Birmingham and London houses began life in 1848 as one English Oratory, founded by Father Newman with the blessing of Bl. Pope Pius IX. A year later, Newman settled in Birmingham and Father Faber was sent to found a house in London, but Newman remained “Father” of both communities until October 1850 when the English Oratory was officially divided into two distinct congregations. We shall mark the canonisation of our first Father with a High Mass of Thanksgiving at 6.30pm on Thursday 17th October, celebrated by His Eminence Vincent Cardinal Nichols, and with a sermon preached by the Provost of the Birmingham Oratory. Please keep an eye on our newsletters and website for details of the Novena we shall be praying in the days before the canonisation, in addition to events taking place at the other Oratories in England.

Newman’s canonisation is also, of course, a wonderful and timely gift to the whole Church. In these tumultuous times when the Body of Christ on earth seems more politicised than ever, and the Holy Father himself talks about the possibility of schism, Newman’s wisdom should bring us serenity of heart and hope. As an Anglican clergyman and Oxford don, his research into the Arian heresy, which from a purely human point of view had seemed likely to extinguish the light of authentic Catholic teaching on the Incarnation in the Fourth Century, made him realise that orthodox doctrine inevitably prevails in any dispute that rages within the Church. It was, in fact, his studies on the Arian crisis that convinced him of the truth of the Catholic Church. In his Apologia he writes: “I saw clearly that in the history of Arianism, the pure Arians were the Protestants, the semi-Arians were the Anglicans, and that Rome now was what it was then. The truth lay, not with the Via Media, but with what was called ‘the extreme party’.”

Oratorians avoid contention wherever possible, but with Newman’s searing intellect, his dogged adherence to the quest for truth, and his aversion to towing any party line, it was inevitable that he would find himself embroiled in and bruised by the ecclesiastical controversies of his time. His famous Biglietto Speech, which he delivered in Rome on 12th May 1879, the day on which it was announced he was to be a cardinal, is best remembered as a robust attack on the spirit of liberalism in religion – the absurd notion “that one creed is as good as another” and “that revealed religion is not a truth, but a sentiment and a taste” – and for its accurate predictions of the disastrous effects that this would have on society. But in the Biglietto Speech Newman was also defending himself against allegations that he was not a real Catholic. The source of these slurs had been a number of extremists within the Ultramontane party in the Church who had been pushing for a maximalist interpretation of the doctrine of Papal Infallibility. This powerful and highly favoured faction consisted of the sorts of people who would have us believe that all popes are chosen by the Holy Ghost (rather than by fallible cardinals in a conclave), that every utterance of a pope carries the authority of the inspired word of God, and that if the reigning Pontiff sprinkles salt on his porridge in the morning, then all Catholics are bound by precept to do the same. Needless to say, Newman had no truck with such silliness, and so the champions of exaggerated papal prerogative maligned him as a half-baked convert who was disloyal to the Pope. When Newman embraced the moderate and traditional interpretation of Papal Infallibility as it was eventually defined at the First Vatican Council in 1870, he distanced himself from those liberals who rejected it and put themselves outside the Church.

It might be assumed that the extreme Ultramontanists and liberals stood at opposite poles of the ecclesiastical landscape, with Newman somewhere in between. In reality, there was error (extreme Ultramontanism and liberalism) at one extreme and Catholic truth (Newman’s position) at the other. With a powerful prophetic insight that was nourished by his extraordinary appreciation of history, Newman would not have been at all surprised to see extreme Ultramontanism and liberalism one day fused together into a noxious mélange. Were he alive today, his stubborn refusal to tow any party line would almost certainly attract the ire of the spin doctors in the media who have set themselves up as gatekeepers of the Magisterium, and who use Twitter to denounce as un-Catholic and subversive anyone who fails to “get with the programme” of their own agenda.

Amongst other things, Newman’s life, trials and writings teach us that whatever disputes and politicking hinder the effective proclamation of the Gospel in any age, the truth of traditional Catholic doctrine in continuity with the Deposit of Faith entrusted to the Apostles always prevails in the end. While his confidence in the earthly hierarchy of the Church was always limited, his trust in the divine guarantees which Our Lord had invested in His Mystical Body was rock solid. In the final paragraph of the Biglietto Speech, having lamented the dire effects of liberalism in religion and on the society of his own country, he inspires in us the cultivation of peace of mind, civility and prayer: “Such is the state of things in England, and it is well that it should be realised by all of us; but it must not be supposed for a moment that I am afraid of it. I lament it deeply, because I foresee that it may be the ruin of many souls; but I have no fear at all that it really can do aught of serious harm to the Word of God, to Holy Church, to our Almighty King, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, Faithful and True, or to His Vicar on earth. Christianity has been too often in what seemed deadly peril, that we should fear for it any new trial now. So far is certain; on the other hand, what is uncertain, and in these great contests commonly is uncertain, and what is commonly a great surprise, when it is witnessed, is the particular mode by which, in the event, Providence rescues and saves His elect inheritance. Sometimes our enemy is turned into a friend; sometimes he is despoiled of that special virulence of evil which was so threatening; sometimes he falls to pieces of himself; sometimes he does just so much as is beneficial, and then is removed. Commonly the Church has nothing more to do than to go on in her own proper duties, in confidence and peace; to stand still and to see the salvation of God.”

Let us give thanks to God for the life and for the canonisation of this great Oratorian and apostle of Christian Hope. May he intercede for us, and for our Holy Church which he understood and loved so well.

Father Julian Large