A piece of history.
. .
IN 1911, our Community
helped to found the Community of the Sacred Passion (CSP) for work
in East Africa. The Sisters of CSP, in turn, founded a community
for African women, the Community of St Mary of Nazareth and Calvary
(CMM).
Both English communities
are now reduced in numbers, and predominantly elderly. The African
community that works in Tanzania and Zambia, however, is growing
and flourishing, and is now the largest community for women in the
Anglican Communion.
Two of the CMM Sisters
recently came to this country to spend some time with their
founding community, and, during their stay, they paid a short visit
to us. As they put it, they were "visiting their grandmothers". We
did, indeed, feel rather like grandmothers in the company of these
youthful, vibrant women, but it was wonderful to see yet another
example of the vitality of African Christianity.
And another. .
.
I FOUND myself with some
time to spare in Gloucester, recently, and took the opportunity to
visit the Cathedral for the first time. As my eyes took in the
sheer splendour of the building - its high roof, making me dizzy as
I looked up at it; the delicate fan-vaulting; and its opulent
monuments - I reflected that this was built not as a cathedral at
all, but as an abbey church. All this belonged to a community of
monks who had vowed to follow Christ in simplicity of life.
It was really much more
suitable as a cathedral. Trying to see it through the eyes of Henry
VIII, I began to appreciate afresh why there was a Dissolution. The
monks of Gloucester had grown rich, presumably on the profits of
selling wool from the abbey sheep. The Tanzanian Sisters also live
by working the land, but in their case they are poor people living
among the poor, facing the hardship and precariousnesss of
subsistence farming.
And yet
another
GREATLY to my surprise, I
received a late invitation to the enthronement of the Archbishop of
Canterbury. The mystery was solved, in part, when I discovered that
my fellow General Synod representatives from religious communities
were also there.
Before the service, we
were assembled in the cathedral crypt, along with sundry Roman
Catholic bishops, Orthodox abbots, deans, and other dignitaries not
quite distinguished enough to merit a place near the centre of the
action - although admittedly more distinguished than us.
Our part, it seemed, was
to be visible - to enter the cathedral in procession, and to be
identified in the order of service as represent-atives of Anglican
religious communities. "Look - we've got some, too!"
Once we had performed
this duty, we could be safely tucked away to await the processional
arrival of the greater dignitaries. After they passed us, they
swept up the great staircase to pass through the arch in the
pulpitum, and disappear. As a devotee of Narnia, I murmured under
my breath "Further up and further in!"
The television audience
had a much better view of the proceedings than we had, but there
was definitely something about being there, on a great
ecclesiastical and national occasion.
Mixed
messages
AS I reflected on what
was going on, I was struck by a certain mismatch between the
official, legal proceedings, and the flavour of the rest of the
service. One of the most striking ceremonies was the Archbishop's
kissing of the Canterbury Gospels, and the making of his
fearsome-sounding "corporal oath" (what does that mean?).
So, what did he so
solemnly swear? To preach the gospel and shepherd the flock? No; to
defend the rights, privileges, and ancient customs of Canterbury
Cathedral. I found myself wondering whether, if there should be a
Measure drastically changing the governance of cathedrals, the
Archbishop would be found brandishing a crosier to repel the
invaders.
What job is it,
exactly?
THIS part of the service
took place near us, and we had a good view of it. The focus then
moved to the hidden area beyond the pulpitum, and we were reliant
on the sound system, and what we could see of the television
screens in the cathedral.
There followed the
Archbishop's placing in the Chair of St Augustine - as, we were
told, the Primate of All England. But the attendant ceremonies were
designed to celebrate the Anglican Communion.
Representatives came
forward to place symbols of their countries and regions, after the
item for which this service will surely be remembered, the African
drummers and dancers. Some in the congregation were excited and
enraptured; others clearly were not sure what had hit them.
It left me reflecting on
the curious fact that, in the same week as the Pope, who is head of
an international Church, was emphasising his local position as
Bishop of Rome, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who is not, seemed to
be being acclaimed as if he were.
The Revd Sister Rosemary CHN is a member of the community of
the Holy Name in Derby.