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

September 2019 Letter from the Provost

A believable anecdote relates that Napoleon was boasting about his power to destroy the Catholic Church when, in response, the Pope’s Secretary of State, Cardinal Consalvi, asked him: “If, in 1,800 years, we, the clergy, have not managed to destroy the Church, do you really believe that you will be able to do it?”

          It is probably true that, of the all the crises that the Church has had to live through since the Day of Pentecost, the most deadly and destructive have come from within. Nero and Diocletian did not harm the Church anywhere nearly as badly as the betrayals of trust and the abuse of position and authority that have shaken the Church to Her foundations in our own lifetime. At times, while the heavy artillery of the media is beleaguering the Church from the outside, it might well feel as though the edifice of the Church on earth has been so weakened by internal decadence that it must about to crumble into dust around us.

          As Catholics, however, we know that this can never really happen. We know this with the certainty of Faith, because God Himself has promised us. We see that promise being made in the Gospel, when Our Lord says to His chosen apostle Simon: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” It has been said that the only two things of which we can be quite certain are death and taxes. But we can also be sure of something else. We know that when Our Lord returns in glory at the end of time, His Bride, the Church, will be here to greet Him.

          So we can thank God for founding His Church on Peter, and for promising to protect Her from complete destruction. But we also have to remember that His promise is, in a sense, a negative guarantee. While at certain times and in particular places our holy Catholic Faith has been taught and lived with such extraordinary zeal that it seemed to blaze across whole continents like wildfire, no guarantee has been granted that the Church’s presence on earth will never be reduced to one minuscule corner of the planet, or that the proclamation of, and belief in, our Holy Catholic Faith will not be reduced to little more than a flickering pilot light. Complacency and triumphalism in times of plenty are usually a sure sign of famine on the horizon, while the hunger that accompanies dearth has often proven to be the seedbed of renewed sanctity and expansion.

          During this month of September, the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross reminds us of the centrality of the Cross in our lives as Christians. Reading the Gospels, it might surprise us to find that Peter, the rock on which Our Lord built His Church, so often shows himself to be an enemy of the Cross. At one point, Peter’s determination to bypass Calvary in establishing the Kingdom of Heaven on earth is so reminiscent of the temptations concocted by the devil to test Our Lord during His forty days in the desert that Christ calls Peter Satan. After the Resurrection, however, Peter realises that the Cross is the threshold which must be passed before we can participate in eternal life, and bears witness to this truth by stretching out his own arms to be crucified. Having reflected on the Gospels, it might dismay us but it should not really surprise us if sometimes even some of our religious leaders seem to shun the Cross in favour of worldly diplomacy and politicking, and in the hope of an easier relationship with the secular powers-that-be and especially the media. We must pray for them, and for ourselves, that we may all be given the grace to embrace rather than flee the Cross when God brings it into our lives for some salutary purpose.

          It has been said that, at times in the past, the Church’s focus on God’s justice and the prospect of divine punishment for sins was so all-pervasive as to obscure for us the transforming gaze of love with which Our Lord looks into our hearts. If there is any truth in this then the opposite is almost certainly true today. The modern temptation is to focus so exclusively on God’s mercy that any concern about the punishment due to sin in justice is denounced as “pharisaical” and cruel. Both extremes are deplorable. God is infinite in His perfections, and if we truly love Him, we should not wish for any one of His perfections to be diminished on our account. The genius and magnificence of His plan for our salvation is that, in the Cross, we find the perfections of His justice and His love both exemplified and glorified. If we think of the vertical trunk of the Cross as representing the vast chasm opened between the creature and his Creature by sin, then we see how the justice of God is perfectly satisfied by a Sacrifice of infinite value. The horizontal beam of the Cross, meanwhile, illustrates how God the Son paid that price on our behalf by stretching out His arms to embrace mankind in a gesture of profound and merciful love. In the Cross, divine justice and divine love intersect, to our eternal benefit.

          During this month, let us venerate the Holy Cross with profound gratitude for that Sacrifice of perfect love, and let us pray that God will give us the grace we need to carry the Cross in our own lives, both for our personal sanctification and for the strengthening of the Church.

Father Julian Large

August 2019 Letter from the Provost

The custom of holidaying in August predates Christianity. The Feriae Augusti were initiated by the Emperor Augustus to allow agricultural workers a respite from their labours. These Augustali marked a period of rest and relaxation, which even extended to relieving donkeys and mules of their burdens, and was celebrated with horse races across the Roman Empire. This tradition is continued in the chaotic August Palio, a bareback race which takes place on 16th August in the city square of Siena. The name Palio can be traced to the pallium, which originally was a strip of precious fabric presented to the winners of the August races in the ancient world. The coincidence of the mid-August festivals with the glorious feast of Our Lady’s Assumption in Heaven later ensured that Ferragosto became an unmistakably Christian celebration, marked to this day in Italy by a three day holiday (ponte di ferragosto), or for some fortunates, a whole month of leisure.

          When Fr Faber brought the Oratory to London in the middle of the nineteenth century, he was determined that an Italianate atmosphere should be infused into the life in the church and house. For many years, the main doors to the church were hung with heavy leather curtains known as “baby crushers”, in imitation of the unwieldy hangings employed in Italian churches to keep out the stifling heat of summer. In the house, the porter’s lodge is still referred to as the porteria, and the balconies from the upper storeys of the house that look down towards the sanctuary of the church are called correttos. This Romanità was also nurtured by the high importance given to the Feast of Our Lady’s Assumption. Until relatively recently, the fathers’ summer visits to their families had to be co-ordinated so that half of the community would return from their travels on the 14th August, and the rest would leave for theirs on the 16th, ensuring that the whole community was present in order for the Assumption to be observed with maximum celebration. The rules about summer holidays are a little more flexible these days, but all of the fathers certainly avoid being away from the house on the 15th August.

          We are truly blessed at the Oratory to have access to musical and liturgical resources which enable us to celebrate the feast of Our Lady’s Assumption with utmost solemnity. As the liturgically green season after Whitsuntide progresses, the glory and the consolation of Our Lord’s Resurrection can seem increasingly distant. The Assumption of Our Lady body and soul into the highest heavens reassures us, if we could possibly be in any doubt after Our Lord’s Ascension, that Heaven is a real place, in which a dwelling has been prepared for each one of us. These mortal bodies, which on earth can end up causing us so much discomfort and pain, have actually been created to participate in eternal glory, along with our immaterial souls. Meanwhile this Church to which we belong, which can seem so disfigured by scandals and in-fighting, will one day be subsumed into the Church Triumphant in Heaven, where She will be perfected and glorified for evermore.

          In an age in which there is a temptation to reduce our magnificent Catholic religion to the level of mere social activism, the Assumption also reminds us of the profoundly supernatural character of our Faith. We engage in corporal as well as spiritual works of mercy because that which is corporeal matters greatly, and has been created to share in the life of the Resurrection in eternity. Our mission to extend the Kingdom of Heaven on earth involves ministering to the sick, providing shelter for the homeless and feeding the hungry, in our belief that human suffering is one of the consequences of human sin caused by the Fall. The Word was made flesh in order to reverse those consequences, and this reversal will be fulfilled when the bodies of those who have departed this life in a state of grace are resurrected from the dead, reunited with their souls and glorified in Heaven. Meanwhile, we are called to contribute to that mission of tackling the effects of Original Sin by relieving suffering wherever we are able, sharing with those in need our hope in the glory for which we have been created.

          If sceptics mock Catholic belief in the Assumption of Our Lady, we should remind ourselves that to Bl. John Henry Newman, who possessed one of the most intellectually rigorous intellects of the modern age, the truth of the Church’s doctrine on the subject seemed obvious. Saint Matthew’s Gospel relates how, at the Resurrection, the bodies of many of the saints rose from the dead and were seen walking around Jerusalem. “The holy Prophets, Priests and Kings of former times rose again in anticipation of the last day,” wrote Newman, adding: “Can we suppose that Abraham, or David, or Isaias, or Ezechias, should have been thus favoured, and not God’s own Mother?” Clearly not. With doom and gloom particularly prevalent at the moment, thank Heavens we have the feast of Our Lady’s Assumption to raise our hearts and minds to Heaven in joy and thanksgiving. Through Her all-powerful intercession, may we keep them fixed there as we prepare for the wonderful day this 13th October when we shall see Bl. John Henry’s banner hanging from the façade of St Peter’s Basilica at the Mass of his Canonization.

Father Julian Large

July 2019 Letter from the Provost

Flick through a national newspaper and the chances are that you will find at least one account of someone suffering from a dreadful illness, where the underlying message from the editorial is as follows: wouldn’t it be better for this poor person, and for his nearest and dearest, if only it were possible to ease his way out of this life with a painless injection? The movement for the legalization of ‘euthanasia’ is gaining momentum. The Director of Public Prosecutions has even released guidelines advising people how to assist at suicides without facing prosecution, which is obviously an interim measure preparing the way for fully legalized assisted suicide. Meanwhile the media looks out for ‘hard cases’ to persuade us that a civilized society should provide the option for voluntary euthanasia. Once this principle is enshrined in the law, we can be sure that the road will have been laid towards the not so voluntary extermination of those who are deemed to be mentally incapacitated. There will be pressure on the elderly and infirm not to be a burden on their families and to “do the decent thing”, in much the same way that there is now pressure on a pregnant mother to “do the decent thing” when the innocent child in her womb is found to be imperfect.

          When we understand the modern view of what a human being is, then it is not so difficult to see why so many decent and affable people do not have any objection to something like euthanasia. According to the current wisdom, a human being is an animal, who has arrived at his present form through a process of material evolution. He might be quite sophisticated as animals go, but ultimately he is just an animal. And what do we do with an animal when it is suffering and there is no hope of significant recovery? We put it out of its misery in the most painless way possible. That is the best thing to do, morally.

          We should not need the Bible, or the Pope, or any religious argument, to convince us that man is more than an animal. Our capacity to know and to love, and to abstract universal concepts from the information that comes to us through our senses, are enough to suggest that in addition to his animal nature, man also possesses a rational nature. In classical philosophy, intellectual nature is always ‘spiritual’ and therefore not susceptible to the disintegration that affects physical bodies when they die. You don’t need to be a Catholic or a Christian, or indeed religious at all, to realise that the human soul is spiritual and therefore immortal.

          Our Christian faith does, however, confirm and enlighten what we should be able to discern from reason alone. As far as evolution goes, the Church encourages scientists to investigate the origins of the human race, and remains open to the possibility that the human body is evolved from slugs, snails and puppy dog’s tails. In tune with sound philosophical principles, She also insists that each and every human soul is created individually by God, and that this makes every innocent human life inviolable and sacred to the Creator. The principle of ‘mercy killing’ is all very well when it comes to dispatching suffering animals, but it can never be applicable to human beings, whom the Holy Scriptures inform us are created in the image of God.

          Divine Revelation furnishes us with knowledge of what happens at the end of our earthly life, when our souls and bodies are separated from each other in death. This mystery is beyond the scope of anything our unaided reason could establish with any certainty. At death, the human soul enters into the presence of Our Lord Jesus Christ, for its particular judgment, where its eternal destiny is sealed. While we commend all souls to the mercy of God, and must never presume to pronounce God’s judgments on His behalf, we have to accept in general terms that the worst case scenario imaginable would be to depart from this life in the very process of breaking one of those commandments which were issued solemnly to Moses amid thunder and lightning on Mount Sinai.

          The Church wants us to assist the dying to leave this world with as much dignity, love and encouragement as we can give them. This is why She sponsors hospices, and why a priest should always be on call to go to the bedside of someone who is dying. Our Lord has entrusted to us the words of eternal life which are able to give meaning and value even during the most terrible suffering. He has given us those Sacraments which are able to bring peace and hope, dispelling the shadows of anxiety and despair. The wisdom of the world would have us believe that human life has value when it is blessed with youth, health and prosperity. Our Catholic Faith tells us that we are to treasure human all human life in all conditions. We are made in God’s image. We are all sacred to Him.

Father Julian Large