1980CHRISTMAS
IN MY LONDON DAYS. THE PASCUAL SERMON OF THE ARCHIBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. HOW I
MET HIM WHEN HE WAS A NORMAL PRIEST ATTENDING A LONDON CONGREGATION AT EMPTY
CHURCH.
Antonio
Parra
Sadness and
drabness empty streets with echo of cheering bells. I remember one Christmas
Eve in Saint Chads Parish South Kensington. The Anglican priest officiated for
a congregation of two people an old lady with hat the prayer book in her hands
and myself. Congregations those days like now were scarce. Nearby the shop of
Harrods was full to the brim.
Él vino a los suyos y los suyos no le recibieron, says John
in the last evangel. The
priest wore a cassock of Henry the VIII days but the cannon was intact. Te
igitur clementissime pater but the magnificent Latin translated to archaic
English words and there he was with alba and the maniple and the cincture of
chastity. That evening it was a cold day and a grey light dropping tears of
rain went through the gothic windowpane words and benedictions only for the old
lady and me.
He wore the
red ornaments of the martyrs. It was saint Thomas Becket day. There I found
that the church is eternal. Although empty. The solitude of Christ confirms
that part of the great mystery.
The priest
let me sing the epistyle from the rostrum and my voice resounded in the empty
aisles with the recite of the Gospel of Nativity.
In those
magic words (prasepium, no room for them in the inn) were concealed the
mysteries of incarnation. In mundo erat et mundum per ipsum factum est et
mundus eum non cognovit. In propia venit et sui eum non receperunt. Quodquod
autem receperumt eum dedit eis potestatem filios Dei fieri, his qui credunt in
Nomine ejus qui non ex sanguine neque ex voluntate carnis neque ex voluntate
viri sed ex Deo nati sunt (genuflexion)
High
theology in a few phrases. I felt the joy and the sadness of Christianity. It
reminded me of my own life and my own sins. Faith is to believe in something
that we never saw or have seen.
I was
looking for my daughter Helen and I found her but my in laws and my ex did not
want to receive me. The sons of the spirit are higher that the sons of the
flesh. In propia venit et sui autem non receperunt. I came to my people and I
found the doors of the inn complete closed. No body answered my calls like the
poor family of Nazareth. No place for me poor sinner in the diversorium. No
room no inn. That was also part of the mystery of my Xmas Days. The rules of
the blood are different from the rule of the Holy Spirit. That was the reason.
That was the key. Christmas usually is sad melancholy day. Because of that. We
are sons and daughters of God no sons and daughters of the blood and flesh.
What I did
was to pray for my little one. She was a tug of war child. And also I pray for
my ex. She had undergone an operation to extirpate a cancer from her throat.
She came well and now she lives in Cornwall a retired old lady like the one who
attended Mass with me at that Christmas Eve many a year ago, 35 years have
gone. I am still trying to contact them. But still all I have is rebuke. No.
No. Still I pray God asking to keep them well. Great sins have I ought committed
to deserve such an ill treatment. A father who is denied access to his
daughter. That is no a human right? We live in the age of paradox.
My daughter
is a neonatal nurse. Works as a matron in a London hospital. My ex an school
master lives in retirement. Still there is the sadness, the joy of the nativity
of out Lord and the melancholy of the evening London light coming through the
altar where that priest with an air of boredom and tiredness consecrated the
body and the blood of Christ. That young parson later on became the actual
Archbishop of Canterbury.
Hoc est
enim corpus meum.
In a way
that Anglican presbyter fascinated me by his parsimony he has a vivid stare and
eyebrows like an owl and I always was very interested by the Church of
Canterbury. Great archbishops men of learning and prayer occupied the See
created by saint Austin an occupied by St. Thomas Beckett. Canterbury always
has had an independent leaning toward the secular power.
Politically
the head of the Church of England is the Queen by the spiritual power lays on
the primate of Canterbury and also in the See of York. I remember Dr Runcie and
Ramsey and also Dr. Fisher. They called him the Red Archbishop only because he
tried to establish a pact of no aggression with Russia.
Nowadays
the actual successor of Saint Austin has criticized vividly the usury and lack
of sensibility of Capitalism towards the underdog and the ones in need, those
who bear the crunch of the big crisis. Christ is true has spoken through the
mouth of His eminence. Dr Cowan is gaunt big and lean man highbrows that make
him look like an owl.
His
homilies and sermons need to be taken in consideration by a materialistic
society. And hit the first pages of the tabloids, He is a great theologian. And
also a reflection; while Rome according to its tradition always alleged with
the powerful of this earth other churches try to preserver the real tenets of
the Gospel. Spiritus ubi vult expirat and Dr Rowan Cowan has spoken in the line
of the real ecumenism. God bless him.
Today I
have officiated with him as a deacon the great mass of the nativity in the
solitude of my room. He came to his own and he was not well received by them. Why?
Because he proclaimed the Truth.
Thursday, 25 December 2008
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