Edinburgh Alive

I'm watching the live webcast of Pope Benedict in Edinburgh – first, of his speech at Holyroodhouse in reply to Her Majesty; and second, right now, of his motorcade through the streets of the city.

I am amazed – in the eight months since I was in Edinburgh, the place has turned from monochromatic grey, black and white to a delightful palette of stone and slate against living green!  Honestly, as an Australian unused to such extreme seasonal changes, Edinburgh seems to have returned to life again after a fell and most drear winter.  It was odd to see the Popemobile (and occupant) driving along the self-same main roads whose footpaths I walked with such trepidation, snow-covered as they were, and to see the same footpaths filled with cheering onlookers, with, not snowcovered, but verdant parks behind them.

What a blessing for Scotland and the Scots indeed.

******

100,000 people turned out to see the Pope, report Scottish police (are you there, Mark?) – and only sixty protesters.  So much for the attempt of the media to whip up bigotry.

God Protect Pope Benedict

As I write, His Holiness ought have arrived in Scotland half-an-hour ago, and be being welcomed by Her Majesty at Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh.

The relentless anti-Catholic propaganda directed against him is a device of the enemy of mankind – who well knows, in his rage and frustration, that the Vicar of Christ is the emissary of an infinitely greater, and truly philanthropic Power: Benedict, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.  

But it is God's will to test and try His servants; let us pray therefore for the Pope:

The Lord preserve him, and give him life, and make him blessed upon the earth, and deliver him not up to the will of his enemies.  (Ps 40(41):3)

St Ninian, pray for him.

Shortest Day

This year, the shortest day falls to-day, the 21st of June: the sun rose here in Launceston this morning at 7:38 am, and will soon set, at only 4:48 pm – only just over nine hours of daylight.  To-day's weather: partly cloudy, 0 to 13 degrees.  I am minded to see what my friend up in Edinburgh is experiencing, since for him this is the summer solstice, and so I'll quickly look up details (pause for googling): it appears he can expect some showers, and a range from 11 to 19 degrees (sounds like spring weather here).  Scotland's capital being further north than Launceston is south, the sun will rise there at 4:26 am and set very late, at 10:06 pm – imagine that! nearly eighteen hours' daylight, twice what we have now.  Given the lengthy twilight also, Edinburgh (were it not for cloud) would presumably have the "White Nights" of St Petersburg...

As good Christian folk will recall, the nearness of this event – the winter solstice in the Southern, but the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere – to the feast of the Nativity of the Baptist, and therefore the truth that from this feast onward, for those north of the equator, the days shorten, is considered significant by such worthies as St Augustine, mindful of St John's own words to Christ, the true Sun Who enlightens all men born into this world: "He must increase, I must decrease" – the lesson being that the Baptist came to herald Christ, Who must grow in us evermore.  Our Lord's Nativity, occurring in the North in darkest winter drear, thus symbolizes Christ coming "to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death", enlightening hearts more and more, just as, after Christmas in northern climes, the days grow longer daily thereafter.

From Edinburgh to Florence

These posts are getting all out of order...

Wednesday I kept the Epiphany with Mass and Office in Edinburgh.  Mark continued to be a generous friend, touring me around the city, to the Palace of Holyroodhouse, to the new Scottish Parliament (an excellent thing, devolution; and who knows, perhaps to...), to the church at the Cowgate - where we revered the shrine of the Venerable Margaret Sinclair (1900-1925), a poor hardworking local lass who died in the odour of sanctity as a Poor Clare extern, known as the "Edinburgh Wonder Worker", whose Cause is advancing - to Edinburgh Castle, on to a very decent late lunch at Dario's, then off in the early evening to Mass for the Epiphany, courtesy of Fr Emerson, F.S.S.P.  The choir were very good, mixing chant and polyphony, with a very talented organ accompaniment, to effect.

Alas, on Thursday I had to arise at 3 a.m. to get my taxi to the airport for a pre-dawn flight (such the time one must allow for airport security and all the rest these days).  The flight to Paris was very pleasant, but I found finding my way around Charles de Gaulle Airport quite terrifying, as I had little time and no idea where to go to find my connecting flight.  I was so distracted I left my mobile, rosary, etc. in my pockets when I was security-screened, setting off the scanner and making the security guards (on high alert owing to that Christmas bombing incident) very wary and a bit cross, fairly enough.  (Looking back to this I suddenly realize how serious it was, golly.)

Finally getting to the right place just in time, we were in due course off for Florence.  Compared to Heathrow (where the customs officer was rather harsh, unfriendly and even rude in his manner) and Paris (where owing to my blundering who knows what trouble I all unwittingly nearly brought down on myself), Italian airport security was, well, extraordinarily light: there was a dog sniffing bags, and I think I had to show my passport, but that was it!

Florence is beautifully warm after freezing England and Scotland.  Yester-day was sunny, to-day a bit rainy, but still great.

The taxi-driver turned out to have returned from several months' holiday in Australia, having seen more of it than I have...

I've booked in at my customary lodgings, the Hotel Plaza Lucchesi: suffice to say I have my own balcony overlooking Santa Croce.  Why stay anywhere else?  (I'll sound like Fr Z, but the complimentary breakfast alone has three courses, with liveried waiters.)

After a good soaking bath to revive my drooping spirits, I set off around Florence for a good walk. 

First, I found what I'd missed last time: the Florentine Oratory, the Church of St Philip Neri (originally, the Church of San Firenze, an early eponymous bishop of the city).  Good Philip remains solicitous for me, his unworthy client.  The church has six side altars (one of St Philip, with painting thereof), a high altar (with the Bambino Gesu enthroned above the tabernacle, it being Christmastide), and a new and actually very appropriately furnished forward altar and sanctuary furniture.

It was providential that Thursday Sext contained the very words used in praying him since his death: "Look down from heaven and see, and visit this vineyard, and perfect the same which thy right hand hath planted" (quoted in Latin on the ceiling also, under the painting of him in ecstasy, with the quotation from Acts - Spiritus Domini rapuit Philippum).  A sign pointed into a side chamber for the Presepe (praesepio, crib): a whole altar (of the Sacred Heart) had been covered over with a huge representation of the Nativity scene, complete with running water and all.

In the side chamber was also the tomb of Pietro Bini, a Florentine and early follower of St Philip, who returning to their native city established the Oratory in Florence; he died a most holy death in 1635.

I didn't go far before I found myself at the Divine Liturgy (see last post below)... thank you, St Philip!

In the evening, I just wandered about entranced by the beauty of this Flourishing city, having a mild case of Stedhal syndrome (the palpitations and even psychosis engendered in visitors overcome by the concentration of art in Florence: the local mental hospital treats cases every year).

Again, I'll do a Fr Z and mention two nice comestibles: hot roasted chestnuts still in their shells bought off a street vendor; great big hot waffles stuck together into a prodigious sandwich with lashings of warm chocolate sauce - the latter of which I ate at the steps of the Duomo, at the foot of its facade, facing the Baptistery.

Florentia, civitas Christi Regis, floresce semper!

Edinburgh

Inattention to matters financial meant I hadn't realized that using my mobile phone outside Australia involves quite some extra costs - including paying for incoming calls as well as outgoing ones!  Ah well.

I find Scotland snowbound but friendly; my contact here has treated me royally.

(And you get decent snacks like hot slices of black pudding in a soft bread roll!  I've yet to have haggis, though I've been taken numerous times already to Starbucks, and once to an Italian restaurant...)

Yesterday I rugged up and set off long before dawn to walk (very circumspectly) the frozen streets to Mass.  It must have been about a mile and half or more, and in this weather it took me over three-quarters of an hour - you can't stride out when in the snow you might go head over tails.  I arrived at the Orate fratres...

Later in the day, Mark and I heard another Mass, at the Jesuit church; Father had evidently mislaid his glasses, since he had difficulty reading the missal and got a bit mixed up.  But far more curious than this was the fact that, when I went to arise at the Orate fratres (as the latest command for the Novus Ordo is, as observed in Australia and in England and elsewhere), the congregation knelt instead, for the Preface and Sanctus and all, whereas back home we stand.  Similarly, no one stood for the Prayer after Communion and Blessing: no, they knelt right through to the dismissal.

I asked Mark afterward and he seemed surprised I was surprised: apparently this is just what one does at the Ordinary Form Mass here in Scotland.  (I don't object, just register this to-me-unknown "contrary custom".)

I see out the window that it's snowing again (it's dawn, about 9 am).

From the weather reports, I'm lucky to have come North when I did: all England is snowed under, with roads snarled and many unable to get to work or school.  Apparently it may be the coldest winter in thirty years...

Scottish Incomers

What good news, just in time for my upcoming trip to Scotland, whence came my forebears five generations ago...

According to that useful blog, The Anglo-Catholic, the Cardinal Archbishop of Edinburgh has granted a place of refuge to traditional Scottish Episcopalians in his city, by giving them a place to worship in the chapel of St Catharine at the Convent of Mercy in Tollcross, not far at all from the middle of town. (Not very far either from where I'll be staying, only about a mile and a half - amusingly, it turned out I booked to stay not 100 metres from the Catholic Cathedral!)

Here is the relevant press release.

From what I can ascertain, this group of Anglicans (cœtus Anglicanorum) belongs to Forward in Faith Scotland - which, like Forward in Faith Australia, has been given precious little other than intolerance and persecution (why do liberals go on about being victims, when they always turn out to be such vicious bullies?) ever since the dark day fifteen years back when the Piskies dared to attempt to ordain women, thus overthrowing the nature of the sacrament.

Like its big brother south of the border, Forward in Faith UK (or rather, FiF England!), it is in full communion, as they say, with the Traditional Anglican Communion; just as here in Australia, Bp David Robarts (an excellent fellow whom I've met several times) is both a T.A.C. assistant bishop and an important figure in Forward in Faith Australia, by reason of still being licensed as an Anglican priest in the Diocese of the Murray. Isn't Anglican ecclesiology curious!

I am delighted to read that His Eminence has shewn such pastoral solicitude for those with whom, I trust, he will soon be in full communion...

And best of all, these folks no doubt use my preferred mode of Anglo-Catholic worship: the Scottish Prayer Book of 1929, suitably augmented with nice bits from the older editions of the Roman Missal!

As I shall be meeting up in Edinburgh with a local, Mark, who's himself a Tiber swimmer of recent years, now aiming at joining the F.S.S.P. (at whose local church I'll be hearing Mass for the Epiphany), I hope to have a chance to find out more about all this from him, and even perhaps to make an ecumenical visit in Tollcross.

Here is a prayer I've found on the FiF Scotland site; I think it sounds very Catholic indeed (right down to saying "you" and "your" as most Catholics have done since the Novus Ordo came in), and I shall certainly be saying it:

A Prayer for Scotland

Father,
you sent Saint Ninian and Saint Columba
to the people of Scotland
to proclaim the faith
delivered to Saint Peter and the Apostles.
May the work they began
be renewed in this [or that] land
and continue to prosper.

Lord,
those who are divided you unite,
and those who are united you support.
Help us to live up to the call
you have given us,
so that we may bear witness to the truth
and strive that all believers may be united
in the bond of peace and love.

Mary,
Mother of God and Mother of the Church;
Pray for us.

Saint Ninian, bringer of good tidings;
Pray for us.

Saint Columba, apostle of our land;
Pray for us.

Will ye no come back again?

Finalizing Holiday Plans

Persevering readers of this blog (if there are any) will know that I am heading to England, Scotland and Italy for a holiday at the very end of this year and the start of next - which is quite typical of me, being so contrary as to head to the far north in mid-winter! I know Traddies like to be climate change deniers out of a general sense of contrariety, but I for one wouldn't mind some warming coming up very soon...

While I have to sort out the English leg of my holiday, it will be spent in London and Oxford; but for the benefit of my Scottish contacts, my very distant relatives, I can confirm that I'll fly up to Edinburgh on Monday the 4th of January, and stay in the Athens of the North over three nights, before departing for Florence on Thursday: so I'll keep Epiphany in Scotland.

Firenze - città bellissima! I can't wait to get back there - I'll stay at my usual hotel on the banks of the Arno for two nights, and then take the train to Rome on the morning of Saturday January 9th. The local Carmelites tell me I simply must make it to the shrine of one of their incorruptibles, St Teresa Margaret of the Sacred Heart, of their Order...

Once in the Eternal City, I will catch up with several other Aussies, and we should have a pleasant time, hopefully at last including a day-trip to Assisi, before I have to leave for Australia on Thursday the 14th: I will have the weekend in Melbourne before finally getting home on Sunday afternoon.

Burns reminds me that best-laid plans gang aft agley... I trust the Lord will preserve and guide me, as He ever has.