Our family had the great pleasure and privilege of assembling the parish nativity scene this afternoon, in the few hours between the Solomn High Mass for Gaudate Sunday (with two of my favourite seasonal hymns: the sung Rorate Caeli and Veni, Veni Emmanuel) and the annual Christmas carol concert later in the afternoon. Amed with tiny scissors intended for cutting wiggly lines in paper (all we could find!) my four children gathered any greenery they could reach in the church grounds and along with some wonderful variegated holly brought in by another family brought the nativity setting to life. We carefully added each beautiful figure, arranged them, rearranged them, and then rearranged them again before stepping back to admire the scene. All it needs now is our Saviour and Lord...
As we left I realised that I was taking more than a few pious thoughts with me... I had ivy twined into my sweater and a good deal of hay woven into my mantilla: a sort of rustic traddy look probably best avoided.
Four year old son was in a philosophical mood today.
"Mummy" he said, "do you know what I am?"
"Go on..."
"Well... I'm a talking human being... and a Catholic ... and an Englishman."
This was pronounced with a face beaming with certainty and pride. No confusion there then, Deo gratias! He can certainly talk for England anyway...
“No school today for this lot?” The woman behind the counter peers curiously at my children. “Nope,” I sigh, “not today, not any day...” and taking my change I head out the door with my little brood behind me. I'm usually far more patient – honestly I am – but we are still 30 minutes from Seamus Heaney's grave in County Derry and have been driving for almost three hours in the rain. Today isn't the day to explain to every stranger perplexed by the sight of free range children during school hours how wonderful home education is: we're too busy living it.
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| Heaney's grave, Bellaghy, Co. Derry |
At Heaney's grave, shared with his parents and brother Christopher, we read “Mid Term Break” (about his baby brother's death and funeral) and pray a Rosary in Latin for the repose of all their souls, ending with a sung Salve Regina. Heaney loved Latin: famously, his last words to his wife, by text message, were "Noli timere". Other visitors to the grave, local men who were Heaney's contemporaries, join in with our Rosary and thank us afterwards for praying., apparently very few people do. After signing the book of condolence in the church, St Mary's Bellaghy, we drive due North toward the coast, pausing briefly at Bushmills to consider the science of distillation, before arriving at the Giant's Causeway – a World Heritage Site and natural wonder of volcanic basalt eroded into astonishing hexagonal columns like a giant three dimensional honeycomb. In addition to the fascinating hands-on geology, we learn about the kelp industry, about Irish mythology and that you get more soaked standing on the Antrim coast in a blowing gale than you do by plunging into a swimming pool. Fish and chips a little further around the coast, then a long drive back in the dark, home to our holiday cottage. A good day.
Giant's Causeway, Co. Antrim
Not every home education day is an adventure. For each day like yesterday, there's one where my children drive each other (and me) crazy. Where the house is a mess, where someone has fed playdough to the cat; where the dog has chewed the eyepiece of one of the microscopes, and we can't find the answer key for the Latin workbook.
That's when the September not-back-to-school doubts start to creep in. Will my children suffer or benefit from the choices that we, their parents make? Will they end up illiterate / happy / unemployable / holy / overspecialised / expert / only fit for employment in a circus? Are we doing the right thing? Can any parent ever answer that question with 100% certitude?
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Nothing is perfect – no school, no home, no family. In choosing to home educate we do two things: the first is take full responsibility for our children's education, for better or for worse; and the second is to place our hopes and fears into Our Lady's hands. But really, no matter where or with whom their children spend their weekday hours, these are two things that every Catholic parent, as first and primary educator,should do. We are in the business of educating souls: Sede sapientiae, ora pro nobis!
My eldest child was Master of Ceremonies today at High Mass celebrated by Fr Finigan at Our Lady of the Rosary (Mac, who is far defter at taking photos than I, has some lovely ones on her blog). For an 11 year old he's racked up a fair bit of serving experience, so he was much less nervous than might be expected: he started serving Holy Mass in the Novus Ordo after his First Holy Communion in May 2010 and started serving the Vetus Ordo a few months later. He served low Mass at the Altar of the Transfiguration in Saint Peter's Basilica last year when we were in Rome for the Una Cum Papa Nostro pilgrimage, in France with the Institute of Christ the King and in various other parishes on our travels. MC is a different job though, complicated, detailed: not only does he have to know where everyone on the sanctuary needs to be at any given moment in the Mass, he also needs to remember all the responses in Latin and find the right pages in the missal at the right moments to ensure that everything happens when it should: a massive responsibility on those small shoulders. It's funny, I look at this little boy, who loves his Lego Hobbit set and his pet mice and who spends his days climbing trees, up there on the sanctuary: utterly capable, completely absorbed in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and I thank God for the many blessings in our lives: our parish, our priests, our friends, our return to the Faith, our marriage and our family. Deo gratias!
Oh my! Bad parenting alert: this morning my eldest daughter (9) told me with some surprise that she had just discovered that 'serviette' was not the correct, official, or tactful way to refer to female altar servers.
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| ...just not on the sanctuary please. |
As my children have been taught to use the correct term for the item of table linen used for discreet ablutions (i.e. 'napkin' *) the only context in which they'd heard the word "serviette" was in conjunction with female altar servers (of which, without any guidance from me, they disapprove ; a conclusion they reached independently in our previous N.O. parish where twirling dervishes populated the sanctuary, tossing ponytails and waving at parents. No I'm not exaggerating. In fairness they also disapprove of baseball caps and mobile phones: they're funny that way, my children).
I confirmed that serviette is not the correct liturgical term for female servers, but is a non-U term for napkin.
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| photo credit: Adoremus in Aeternum |
*for my stateside readers: saying 'serviette' in polite company in England is tantamount to nose picking, eating peas off a knife, or saying "toilet" (it's lavatory, darling).
"Mummy, the problem with being a religious sister is... WHO catches the spiders?"
Indeed! I'm proud that my example has given her such a profound insight into the true meaning of Christian marriage: who catches the spiders when there's no husband around?
Our 2013 St George's Day dragon cake was only slightly scarier than the 2012 version ( note claws, improved teeth and extra scary flames in the latest release) but, filled with strawberry jam / blood and slain by fearless knights it was no less tasty.
We went to Mass this morning as usual instead of the evening Missa Cantata for the feast day which would hsve been our preference (you can see why: look what we missed!), but two of our children had won prizes in a poetry competition and the awards ceremony was tonight to coincide with World Book Day. Even so, we were glad to see St George's statue (above) in pride of place next to the Sanctuary this morning, and said the Prayer for England as a family with our night prayers.
O Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God and our most gentle Queen and Mother, look down in mercy upon England thy "Dowry" and upon us all who greatly hope and trust in thee. By thee it was that Jesus our Saviour and our hope was given unto the world; and He has given thee to us that we might hope still more. Plead for us thy children, whom thou didst receive and accept at the foot of the cross. O sorrowful Mother! intercede for our separated brethren, that with us in the one true fold they may be united to the supreme Shepherd, the Vicar of thy Son. Pray for us all, dear Mother, that by faith fruitful in good works we may all deserve to see and praise God, together with thee, in our heavenly home. Amen.
As today was unseasonably snowy and I was fighting off a migraine, I felt that some low-effort, low noise crafty fun would be in order this afternoon. Thanks to an idea and some print-outs from http://catholicicing.com/ the children spent the a couple of hours making this resurrection scene complete with tomb and the linen cloths, while I made an almond cake that we will eat with raspberries this evening after dinner. I do love the feasting aspect of celebrating the Easter octave!
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| Inside the tomb and the linen cloths |
The ever-moving smokestack found itself under Our Lady's watchful eye this evening, and yes, it's white!
Habemus Papam!
...yes there will eventually be white smoke. Although conclaves have lasted several years in the past, I'm rather hoping that we'll have a Holy Father to guide us within a matter of days, if not hours. I'm sure that I'm not alone in this.
...as for the children, well, they've planned a procession involving much joyful noise - bell ringing and singing. They've decided on a "running order" for songs and hymns for their celebration, that we mere grown ups are not permitted to be privy to until the actual event.
I don't have the slightest idea who our next Holy Father will be, but I'd place a handsome wager on "Full In The Panting Heart of Rome" with a rousing chorus of "God Bless Our Pope" being on the children's celebration programme. And thinking about it, that is very much the way things ought to be.
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| Happier days: before some misreant broke into our house, stole the keys and drove off in it. |
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| Following Adoration, the procession of Priests and Pilgrims leaves San Salvatore in Lauro |
"...designed to display the chair on which, according to ancient tradition, St. Peter sat and taught Roman Christians. Pope Alexander VII had the ivory-covered chair put into the gigantic bronze cathedra, with the statues of the Doctors of the Church, St. Ambrose and St. Augustine of the Roman Church and St. Athanasius and St. John Chrysostom of the Greek Church. The religious significance is extremely clear. The Doctors of the Church were always consistent with Peter's teachings as they expounded theological doctrine.The gospel does not change because the Holy Spirit, portrayed as a dove flies along the span of the centuries, assisting and accompanying its church. The chair or cathedra of Peter symbolizes the perpetual continuity of the doctrine and its promise of infallibility. It triumphed over all heresies throughout the centuries."
[from StPetersBasilica.org, emphasis mine)
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| The procession crosses the Tiber towards Castel Sant'Angelo |
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| The Roman traffic was stopped to allow the procession to proceed in dignity. It was a long procession, and some of those drivers will have been waiting for quite a while. Despite this there appeared to be good humour all around from bystanders, although some bewilderment on the faces of touists as the procession wove through the narrow streets near San Salvatore. |
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| Coming home to Rome: the via della conciliazione was closed to traffic to allow the procession to pass. We gathered many pilgrims along the route: people were waiting for us to pass, others appeared to decide to join spontaneously. By my estimate there were at least twice the number of pilgrims arriving at Basilica di San Pietro in Vaticano than left San Salvatore in Lauro. We were about ten rows (of four abreast) when the procession left - by the time we arrived we were about thirty rows back! |
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| Walking straight up to the centre door of Basilica di San Pietro in Vaticano |
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| I was very happy that this was the way my Children entered St Peter's Basilica for the first time: through the front central door, praying and singing. |
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| Pilgrims waiting for Mass to begin. The seating area in front of the Altar of the Chair of St Peter holds just under 500 people, and there were around 100 extra chairs to the right (I took photos of the seating area from the dome later on to confirm numbers of seats). All were filled and there were some people standing at the back. We estimated that there were almost a thousand people at the Mass. |
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| We lost count of how many priests were on the Sanctuary, but we noticed the Benedictines, FSSP and the ICKSP. |
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| His Eminence, Antonio, Cardinal Cañizares Llovera,Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments |
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| Incensing the Altar |
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| The last Gospel |
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| Last Gospel |
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| It was a long day for smaller pilgrims. He was full of beans and in full voice the next day though! |
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| Utterly inspired. Totus tuus. |
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| Not a clown or puppet in sight, and they're completely transf | ixed. |
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| Visit to the friendly Swiss Guards (or, properly, Pontificia Cohors Helvetica) |
