What indeed is required of us in order that we may sit down at the great King’s Feast and eat with profit the heavenly bread? That we come to it clad in the ‘wedding garment’, that is to say, that we should be in a state of grace and have a right intention.

Nothing more is required on our side. But for Jesus? Certainly it was not without labour that He prepared this feast for us. It needed the self abasements of the Incarnation, the humility and obscure labours of the hidden life, the fatigue of the apostolate, the conflicts with the Pharisees, the combats against the prince of darkness and finally, that which contains and crowns all, the sufferings of the Passion. It was only at the cost of His bloodstained immolation and untold sufferings that Christ Jesus merited for us this wonderful grace of being united so closely to Himself in that He nourishes us with His Sacred Body and gives us His Precious Blood to drink.

Therefore it was that He instituted this Sacrament on the eve of His Passion as if to give us the most touching proof of the excess of His love for us. It is because it is communicated to us at such a price that this gift is full of the sweetness of the infinite love of Jesus Christ. These are some of the marvels figured by the manna and brought about, for the life and

joy of our souls, by the wisdom and bounty of our God. How is it possible not to admire these marvels of the Church? How can we fail to surround these sacred mysteries with all our reverence and adoration?

Holy Communion – The feast of the soul

Nothing is so joyous as a feast. Holy Communion is the feast of the soul, that is to say, a source of deepest joys. Why should not Christ Jesus, Truth and Life, principle of all being and of all beatitude, fill our hearts with joy? Why, in making us drink from the chalice of His Divine Blood, should He not pour into our souls that spiritual gladness which excites charity and sustains fervour? See Him in the supper room, after He has instituted this Divine Sacrament. He speaks to His Apostles of His joy. He desires that this joy, His own joy, altogether divine, should become ours and that our hearts should be filled with it. It is one of the effects of the Eucharist when received with devotion – to fill the soul with supernatural sweetness that renders it prompt and devoted in God’s service.

Let us not forget, however, that this joy is above all spiritual. The Eucharist being eminently the ‘mystery of faith’, it may happen that God permits that this altogether inward joy should not react upon the sensible part of our being. It may happen that very fervent souls remain in a state of great dryness and aridity after having received the Bread of Life. Do not let them be astonished at this; above all never let them be discouraged. If they have brought all the good dispositions possible for receiving Christ and still suffer from their powerlessness, let them be reassured and remain in peace. Christ, ever living, acts in silence, but sovereignly in the innermost depths of the soul in order to transform it into Himself. That is the most precious effect of this most heavenly food – “He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me and I in Him’.

Your Worship the Mayor, Councillors, distinguished guests, and most excellent candidates for Australian citizenship, I want to add my voice to the others who have congratulated the candidates on your decision to become citizens of this country.

When I was young my parents still used to talk about the white Australia policy, though one of my great-aunts was Chinese from a family on the Queensland goldfields, and I remember the night when I was about seven when we were honoured to have the renowned Aboriginal singer Harold Blair to dinner in our family. But I’m glad we’ve given up talk of a white Australia. I’m glad to say it was never a popular idea in New Norcia; and I am ashamed of the treatment our country is giving to refugees who come to our shores today.

The monks who gave the name New Norcia to the town where I live and the name Subiaco to the city where you live were mostly Spanish, but some were Italian and some were Irish and one was French, and one was even English. So multiculturalism was the order of the day at the birth of New Norcia and at the birth of Subiaco, and it has continued to be the order of the day in both places until the present day.

The monks in both places were a remarkably tolerant lot for nineteenth-century Catholic missionaries. They were not in a hurry to convert Aborigines or Protestants or anybody else. They wanted to serve the God they believed to be the God of love and truth, and they wanted to love their neighbours of every tribe, race and nation. Sure, they wanted to share the best of what they had and what they thought, but they didn’t try to force it on people.

Whenever I come into the boundaries of the city of Subiaco – and I do that fairly frequently, by choice – I get the same impression from the people who live and work here, people of all religious faiths and of none. This is a community remarkably free of fundamentalist fanatics of any kind – except maybe of the football kind, but I steer clear of that crowd..

In Australia you don’t have to believe in God; you don’t have to believe in anything, but my experience is that most people do believe in plenty of things. They believe in people especially: their families, their friends, the excellent mayor of Subiaco, for example.

In becoming citizens you are declaring that you believe in the people of Australia. I think that’s a good act of faith to be making. I think it’s generally true that we Australians are not a bad mob. And one of our good qualities is that most of us are pretty broad-minded. So in joining us, you don’t have to leave the culture and the language and the heritage of the countries you have come from. It is quite possible for us human beings to be in favour of everybody, which is what I believe God is in favour of.

So my thanks to the Mayor for inviting me to join you this morning, and once again, my congratulations to the new citizens of Subiaco on joining us mob.

The events which are recorded below, occurred not in medieval times or in an uncivilised part of the world, but in the twentieth century, in Spain, a country with a rich history of Catholic saints, including John, Teresa, Dominic and Ignatius to mention a few. The year was 1936 and although similar events were widespread in Spain, this narrative will concentrate on the city of Barbastro, in the province of Huesca. What transpired after the commencement of the Spanish civil war saw a series of actions by anarchists, which culminated in the butchering of three religious order communities. Those martyred were 51 Claretians, 18 Benedictines and 11 Escolapios plus some lay people.

This article will focus particularly on the Benedictines of El Pueyo. The brother of one of these monks is Fr. Seraphim Sanz de Galdeano OSB (87) of New Norcia. His then 25 year old brother Ramiro was among these heroic men, the youngest of whom was 21 and the oldest 66. A further connection is that a number of monks were trained at El Pueyo before coming to New Norcia. Fr. Maur Enjuanes (93) was a classmate of Fr. Ramiro. If Dom Maur and others had stayed at El Pueyo, they too would have lost their lives. Fr.Seraphim, who was three years younger than Ramiro, also spent time in El Pueyo with him before leaving for France in 1929 and then to Australia in 1931.

The Sanctuary of Our Lady of El Pueyo was built on a hill on the outskirts of Barbastro and became a Benedictine Monastery in 1899. For generations it had been the focus of devotion by its people to Our Lady, strengthened by the presence of its Bishops, some of whom were buried there.

In the General Election of 1931, the Republican party won for only the second time in recorded history and came to power. In 1933, an Anarchist centre was set up in the city. Thus when civil war broke out in 1936, Barbastro was on the side of the republicans and remained so until captured by General Franco’s forces in 1938. At about this time the city had a population of 8000 residents. In addition a garrison of the army was stationed there under the command of Colonel Villalba. This man should have been the defender of the people and either through fear or lack of arms, gave in to the anarchists. What occurred was fear and panic, which rapidly intimidated all law abiding persons of secular and religious persuasions. Furthermore, this military commander, who sat on the fence politically, helped the confusion. Colonel Villalba in fact took over the Bishop’s House as his own quarters after the Bishop had been executed. The Benedictines, like the Claretians and Escolapios, could have reasonably expected a different attitude from the Military.

Who were the oppressors? According to Fr. Seraphim, ‘The Reds’ were communist anarchists aided and abetted by the government. Plundering and destruction had started of sacred objects in Spain as soon as the republicans had been elected, some five years earlier.

According to Fr. Seraphim ‘hundreds and hundreds of churches, institutions, monuments and everything religious were destroyed after the socialist government came to power in 1931. In Madrid, there was a wonderful monument of the Sacred Heart, which was machine-gunned to pieces’.

At the monastery of El Pueyo, it was on the 22 July that the anarchists came for them, two days after having rounded up the 51 Claretians. The milicianos (as they called themselves), used subterfuge to draw the monks from the monastery, boasting later that they had captured it, falsely believing it to be heavily fortified. They were eventually loaded on to a truck and the community of 22, comprising ten priests, one deacon, one tonsured, four brothers and six boys aspiring to be monks were taken off to Barbastro. They were imprisoned in what had previously been the College of the Escolapios, now turned into a gaol. The Claretians were placed on the ground floor whilst the Bishop, Benedictines and the Escolapios were on the first floor.

All events were orchestrated by the “Committee” of the milicianos, who commenced the setting up of an interrogation centre in the building, through which each member of the communities passed through, recording all personal details, with a particular interest in those who were priests.

At one stage a crowd gathered outside in the Plaza baying for their blood. Badly educated and instilled with hatred towards religion, they thought that the Church was the first enemy of the lower classes. It was unfortunately true that she did not always do what she could do to help them. ‘Whilst their anger had been controlled, it distilled slowly over years in the hearts of the dispossessed, to become a very potent force’. During the night of 25 July, they started to assault the sacred places, burning Churches and destroying anything bearing any sign of the Christian faith. In the Plaza a large bonfire was burning and the imprisoned communities looking out from their gaol, could see men and women mad with fury bringing statues, benches, altars, confession boxes and all moveable things to throw upon the flames and then enjoyed a Dante-esque feast that went well into the night.

The monks and their fellow religious supported each other as best they could over the next few days, given their segregation, clandestinely receiving the Eucharist daily until the end of the month when there were no more consecrated hosts and it became the monks turn to sacrifice their lives for God. The killings began on the following day, with none of them knowing who was to be called or when.

It was on 8 August that they came for the Bishop. He was taken from the college prison to the municipal gaol, where he was first severely tortured. During the night his genital organs had been cut off and ‘many other deplorable acts which cannot be mentioned in consideration of the readers’. He was seen by Fr. Ramiro the following morning walking to the truck, only ‘able to do this by being tied to a strong man’. A short time later shots were heard from the cemetery and so ended Bishop Florentino, ‘one of the most glorious figures in the annals of Spain’.

The first group of Claretians, six in number were taken on 12 August, another 20 on 13 August and the final group of 25 went to their martyrdom on 15 August.

The Benedictines knew that their turn was to come next, with the Escolapios to follow them, however it was to be two more weeks of painful waiting, before they commenced their journey to the cross.

To be concluded in the next issue of the Benedictine Oblate Newsletter.

REFLECTION

‘How Truth Speaks’ from the ‘Imitation of Christ’ by Thomas a Kempis.

God speaks to the understanding, by the light of His Spirit and to the heart, by His holy inspirations. All that the Prophets deliver in the Word of God, all the truths which preachers announce to us, cannot enlighten the understanding, nor touch the heart, if God Himself speaks not to us by the motions of His grace. We should therefore entreat the Lord to speak to our interior, while we exteriorly attend to or read divine truths, for fear that hearing the word of God and not keeping it, knowing His doctrines and not following them, conscious of His will and not doing it, we should become more and more culpable in His sight.

THE MEDIEVAL ANCHORITIC LIFE

The Kingdom of the World I have despised. Taken from ‘The Chapter’ – 1997.

An article by Clare Anderson.

In the little town of Schere, nestling in a Surrey vale, is something of a village gem. Despite heavy traffic

rumbling through its centre, it has its origins in the 12^th. century and still retains its medieval character. The village church dates from 1190. On the north wall facing the altar, are two unusual indentations; one

shaped like a letter-box opening, the other like a four leafed clover. These were once openings into an anchoresses cell on the other side.

Although the cell has now disappeared, its outline can still be traced on the outside wall, enough to reveal what was once a small living space, about the size of a single bedroom. But who lived there and why? Such places were sought after and never short of applicants. In Schere, the church records disclose one of the inhabitants was named Christine Carpenter. The entry for 11 July 1329 states:

Christine, daughter of William called the Carpenter of Schire in our diocese, has besought us by her humble petition, that whereas, desiring not feignedly, but of truth to remove herself to the fulfilment of a better life, she wishes to vow herself solemnly to continence and perpetual chastity and to let herself be shut up in a narrow place in the churchyard adjoining the parish church 0f Schire, that therein she may be enabled to serve Almighty God the more worthily…

Despite calling for the usual investigation of her manner of life, marital status and character, the Bishop was pleased to accede to Christine’s request only a month later.

…she may be enclosed…and thus laid aside from public and worldly sights, she may be enabled to serve God more freely in every way and having resisted all opportunity for wantonness, may keep her heart undefiled by this world…

What is not in doubt is that medieval Britain had hundreds of anchorites and hermits. What might seem a strange, almost self-absorbed lifestyle to us today was commonplace then and people certainly did not find it odd or unusual. Anchorites differed from hermits, in that their solitary life was reinforced by permanent confinement in a cell usually adjoining a church. Christine Carpenter would have been able to watch the Mass through the oblong squint window and receive Communion via the quatrefoil.

A 16^th. century rite of enclosing anchorites survives although there must have been many predecessors. It stipulates that candidates should receive a thorough examination (counselling?), before undertaking the confinement. The ceremony of profession took place within the Mass (usually of the Dead) and involved many extra prayers and psalms. The dwelling was blessed, prayed over and thoroughly exorcised before the anchorite entered in a procession complete with choir singing. At the conclusion of the rite the recluse was left within and the entrance bricked up.

Anchorites came from all sections of society and all circumstances, but by far the majority were women. Enclosed women are mentioned in the writings of the Desert Fathers, so it would seem likely that this way of life was long considered safer for reclusive women. Many of them had sponsors, either local people or religious communities or even noblemen. As well as providing for her own needs, an anchorite usually had to pay a serving woman (Julian of Norwich had at least two in her time) to do her shopping and attend her outside necessities

What did an anchorite do all day? It is certainly true that some went mad., but the vast majority of them seem to have persevered in their cell until death. It is unlikely that anchorites were ever truly solitary. Julian of Norwich and Wulfric of Haselbury were both inundated with visitors.

St. Benedict was famously discouraging, although he would probably not have been too worried about the life of a medieval anchorite, especially if they lived in a town.

FROM THE FATHERS

St.Augustine

This Word of God ‘became flesh and dwelt among us’ for in himself he was incapable of dying for us unless he had assumed mortal flesh from us. In this way, the immortal one was able to die. In this way he wished to give life to mortals. He would later make them sharers in himself, since he had first shared in what was theirs. For of ourselves we did not have the ability to live, as of himself he did not have the ability to die. He died from what was ours, we will live from what was his.

Refutation of All Heresies by Hippolytus of Rome

The Father sent this Word in the last times, no longer desiring to speak through a prophet or to be perceived as having been vaguely announced. He willed that He be manifestly perceived so that the world, on seeing Him, might be persuaded, not by the urging of the prophets or the terror from an angelic power, but by the presence of the One who had spoken.

We know that He took His body from a virgin and transformed the old man by a new creation. We know that He is of our own substance. For if He did not take His origin from the same substance, it would be foolish to prescribe as law that we imitate Him, our teacher. If He, as man, is of another substance, why does He command likeness with Himself to me, who have been born in weakness? And how can He be good and just?

But in order not to be considered different from us, He endured weariness, desired to experience hunger and did not refuse thirst. He rested in sleep, did not oppose suffering, was obedient unto death and revealed the resurrection. In all these things He offered His own human nature as the first fruits, so that you might not lose heart in suffering and in confessing that you are a man, you might yourself look forward to that which the Father offered Him.

Christ is the God of all things. He decreed to blot out sin from man as He made the old man new and called Him His image from the beginning, thus displaying through a figure, His love towards you. If you obey His holy commandments and are good as He is good, you will become like Him and be honoured by Him. For God is not poor, who, for His glory, has made you God.

DESPAIR AND HOPE

By Abbot Timothy Kelly OSB - taken from St. John’s Abbey oblate newsletter

Sometimes the soul vacillates between hope and despair, hope because God shows an undeniable love, despair because sin is so real in our lives. There is the ordinary guilt we grow up with, and then there is the painful realisation of our own failure to love people, our anger at them, our resentments and petty squabbles that prevent or destroy relationships. For all the good will we thought we had, we discover the emotions that separate appear to be stronger than the conviction to be reconciled.

These can be quite small things in comparison to the destruction of whole peoples. But, it is the uncontrolled emotions on the smallest level that develop into holocausts in the future. Victims of violence and those whose hearts accuse them of unfaithfulness can understand the cry of the psalmist, "From the depths I call to you, Lord, hear my cry. Listen attentively to the sound of my pleading" (Ps 130:1ff). Sin separates from God and breaks apart the unity Christ died to achieve.

The consequences of that sin are more than the destruction of the sinner. They are so frequently the destruction of another's well-being and confidence in God. This is the real sadness because by the actions of the sinner, another gets alienated from Christ. If God can so move our hearts to repentance at the recognition of sin, God can surely bring reconciliation and peace to those who have suffered because of our sins. That has to bring calmness and hope to our spirits, not because we are no longer the cause of heartache for others, but because God's forgiveness and healing is stronger than our sin and wounding.

Yes, we understand sin because we know we have taken love for granted and have abused that love to the detriment of ourselves and the scandal of others. We know our need for forgiveness, for a healing power we cannot generate of ourselves, of an action we cannot produce except by a grace that is effective.

Love took on flesh in Jesus who teaches us that there is no advantage for us, or anyone, in preferring anything less than God. Jesus' life was one of serving God by his love for humanity. We serve God in no less a way. His prayer in solitude bore fruit in healing activity as he expressed his love for God by loving the creation that came about through the Word of God, the Word now made flesh. The follower of Christ, because he or she is identified with Christ, who shares the Spirit of Christ in unity, lives out that union with the creative Word by becoming the visible manifestation of God's Word of love today in this world and in these circumstances.

We may not be successful in transforming our lives but surely we will make progress by day - after - day prayer that brings to light the inner attitudes that emerge in sinful action prepared for by our lack of vigilance over our thoughts and attitudes. The journey to God in love takes every moment of our lives, and that is why we must pray always, so that sin does not take us by surprise.

Grace is not episodic but ongoing and constant. We cannot entertain fantasies of vengeance and not become vengeful when opportunity presents itself. We cannot be chaste in body if our thoughts run away with us unchecked. Jesus says to us: "If you are bringing your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother [or sister] has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and be reconciled with your brother [or sister] first, and then come back and present your offering" (Matt 5:23ff).

God is always with us, but we are not always with God. So let us pray always and be vigilant, that when the Lord comes, we are found to be waiting with a joyful and expectant faith.

Abbot Timothy Kelly, OSB

Text and comment to the editorial committee

Period

MEETING PLACE

PRAYER LIST

ITEMS OF INTEREST

Benedictine Oblates

FAITH FORMATION

Eucharist

The King’s Feast

THE BENEDICTINE MARTYRS OF EL PUEYO

“They went to their death happy as going to a feast”

THE MEDIEVAL ANCHORITIC LIFE

In the little town of Schere, nestling in a Surrey vale, is something of a village gem. Despite heavy traffic

rumbling through its centre, it has its origins in the 12^th. century and still retains its medieval character. The village church dates from 1190. On the north wall facing the altar, are two unusual indentations; one

DESPAIR AND HOPE

Text and comment to the editorial committee

Period

MEETING PLACE

PRAYER LIST

ITEMS OF INTEREST

Benedictine Oblates

FAITH FORMATION

Eucharist

The King’s Feast

THE BENEDICTINE MARTYRS OF EL PUEYO

“They went to their death happy as going to a feast”

THE MEDIEVAL ANCHORITIC LIFE

In the little town of Schere, nestling in a Surrey vale, is something of a village gem. Despite heavy traffic

rumbling through its centre, it has its origins in the 12th. century and still retains its medieval character. The village church dates from 1190. On the north wall facing the altar, are two unusual indentations; one

DESPAIR AND HOPE

rumbling through its centre, it has its origins in the 12^th. century and still retains its medieval character. The village church dates from 1190. On the north wall facing the altar, are two unusual indentations; one