3 Steps to sharing the Gospel

Making for Medjugorje

One of our aims in visiting Croatia was to visit Medjugorje, which is actually situated not far into neighbouring Bosnia and Herzegovina.  We allowed plenty of time to make the journey, but what with having to go back for someone's passport and a long delay at the border, we arrived at St James Church coach park at 9.57am for the English language daily Mass which is at 10 o'clock. Having shot across the car park and pushed open the nearest door, I found myself in the church where Mass was, of course, about to begin. Well, that was the first miracle - as I found my place among the 40 or so priests concelebrating, Mass started...

It was a very uplifting celebration, with up to 2,000 present. We felt a great wave of worship and prayer rising up. After a pause for refreshment, our group dispersed, some going to the Mount of Apparitions, some staying to explore the church area itself. I had been warned that the going was a bit rough on the Mount, and the only significant lasting effect of when I broke my ankle badly in 2000 is advice to avoid very uneven ground or pebble beaches (sorry Cold Knap!). I visited the various places of devotion around the church, including the very modern Risen Christ,which some claim is exuding a liquid akin to human tears (pic of me there left). 

So, what did I think about Medjugorje? Firstly, we weren't there for the evening Rosary/Mass/Adoration, which priests told me is the high point there. Having said that, I found it different to, for example, Lourdes, Fatima or Knock, particularly because it lacks a central grotto or chapel of apparitions. At Medjugorje it seemed to be more the whole place that has an aura. This is undoubtedly due first to the large number of pilgrims, the enormous amount of prayer and the depth of conversion and reconciliation. Regarding the alleged apparitions, I have to say I am not sure. I found myself wondering if, in fact what I was witnessing is a great concentration of what could happen anywhere. 

I didn't feel or experience anything out of the ordinary, not, that is, until two days later when I seemed to feel a greater closeness of Our Lady. Maybe, for me anyway, it is her shrine because she attracts people there and leaves it to the life of the Church - Mass, sacraments, devotions etc - to do its job and work the Lord's grace in a most effective way. On the other hand, Medjugorje is a work in progress. The Church will not pronounce on it until the apparitions end - and Our Lady probably has more work to do on me!

Making for Montenegro

Montenegro is a small country south of Croatia, with an area of about 5,000 square miles and a population of just over 600,000. As Dubrovnik is situated right at the bottom end of Croatia, it was only a short hop for us to visit Montenegro for a day.

One of its claims to fame is the Bay of Kotor. This is sometimes described as the Mediterranean's best fjord, and indeed it's characterised by steep mountain slopes dropping into inlets that go deep into the land. We wound our way around the beautiful scenery until we reached the small town of Perast, looking back at the entrance to the bay. From here you can gaze at two lovely islands in the middle of the bay. We had a trip booked on a boat out to one of them, called Our Lady of the Rocks (on the right in photo above).What a gorgeous spot! Tradition says that the island was built up over years by sailors bringing stones from their travels. There is a delightful small church and tiny museum of local life.

Back on the mainland we were soon at the furthest point into the bay, the town of Kotor itself (above). Like Dubrovnik, this has preserved its walls. I was a bit put off by a big cruise liner parked right outside the gate, but once inside the walls, we were all swallowed up in this old city. After lunch we were to celebrate Mass at a small church dedicated to Blessed Osanna, a local anchorite or hermit, rather similar to Dame Julian of Norwich. As we emerged the rains came. Some made a dash for the cathedral, others for the cafe. Having read a book about the cathedral... I dashed for the cafe!

We continued round the bay, through a tunnel and across the narrow entrance on a ferry, and we were soon back at the hotel.   My brother tells me that the former miniature capital of Cetinje is fascinating, if rather inaccessible. The modern capital is Podgorica. So we only had a taste of Montenegro - but it was a very tasty taste too.

Must-see Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik turned out to be a beautiful old city, encircled by its massive walls. These have served it proud, not least in the war of the 1990s, when it seemed that the Serbian/Montenegrin forces thought the city might be a push-over. The modern city spreads out alongside and behind the Old Town. An earthquake in the 1690s, a disaster for the people of the time, of course, meant that the rebuilding brought about a uniform feel to the old town, especially along the main street, Stradun, also known as Placa. The entrance through the Pile Gate leads you along this fine urban street towards its landmark tower, marking the Stradun's opening out into a fine square marked by St Blaise's Church. Here you can continue to the eastern gate of the city, but the feel of the town sweeps you round to the right, where another square opens out, marked by the twin centres of power - the Cathedral and the Rector's Palace. 

Above is the beautiful Paolo Veneziano Crucifixion under which we celebrated Mass at the Dominican Monastery at the eastern end of the town, which is balanced by the Franciscan Monastery at the western end. The Jesuits are in there too, with a big place on one of the highest spots, reached by a mini Spanish Steps. It's all a superb example of a compact old city that has evolved over the centuries from two communities, Roman and Slavic, separated by water along the course of present-day Stradun. The whole place is pedestrianised, and even in late September was thronged with visitors.

My only reservation about places like Dubrovnik is that if you look closely you will not find many locals in these historic areas. The famous bit becomes almost a living museum while the centre of the living city is elsewhere, in Dubrovnik's case further west. I've seen this in places as varied as Vilnius in Lithuania and some towns in Italy and Spain. While visitors admire beautiful old buildings and throng cafes and restaurants in one part, the real life of a town goes on elsewhere. There isn't an easy solution to this, but it is noticeable when a town or city is both a visitor attraction and a living centre. We saw several examples of this last year - Lucca being one and Florence being an outstanding example. Many of our own old towns in the UK also pull this off, like York or Salisbury.

But that's just being fussy. Don't let the tourists put you off - there's always room for one more!  Dubrovnik is beautiful. If you haven't been there, go - Fr M approves big-time.  

Set satnavs for Cavtat

So just over two weeks ago, 47 of us jetted off from Birmingham Airport to Dubrovnik, for this year's September Pilgrimage, or, as one pilgrim put it "holiday with a spiritual dimension". Frequent visitors will know that this group - whose membership changes every year - has been visiting places now since 1990. Recent destinations include Rome, the Holy Land, Krakow, Provence and Assisi/Tuscany.

We were based for our week at the Hotel Albatros in Cavtat, between Dubrovnik and the airport. It's pronounced "tsav-tat", but quickly became "satnav" for some of the group! The hotel is the two large buildings just left and below the centre of the photo above. Cavtat turned out to be a beautiful spot in its own right, situated on the neck of a headland between two bays, on one of which was situated our hotel. We were to celebrate the last two of our daily Masses - the heart of our pilgrimage - in its parish church, St Nicholas, and a smaller church Our Lady of the Snow.

I was really impressed by the local area - blue sea, striking cliffs, scattered islands. Croatia was of course a part of the former Yugoslavia until the fall of Communism/Socialism in 1989, which led to the violence of the wars in the early and mid-1990s.  It is mainly Catholic, and Dubrovnik is at the far bottom end of Croatia's strange boomerang shape. For much of its history the city was an independent republic, rather like Venice, under which it spent another large part of its history. I'll share some of what happened during the week over the next few postings...watch this space. Meanwhile here is a dramatic aerial view of the walled Old City of Dubrovnik, heavily damaged in the 1990s but now restored.

Giving

The full Vincent, and yikes, it's the Rijks

I'm back from our September Pilgrimage to Croatia and Medjugorje - but more of that later as I haven't finished Amsterdam yet! Blimey, you must be thinking, what a life!

Anyway...

On my last full day in A'dam I had a timed e-ticket to the Van Gogh Museum, so I decided to OD on culture and hit the Rijksmuseum in the afternoon too. So I got on one of the city's excellent trams and headed across the centre. All of Amsterdam's public transport functions only on an Oystercard type payment system, with no money changing hands at all - very impressive.

As at the Anne Frank, I was glad I had my e-ticket so I could walk past the ever-lengthening queue. To mark 150 years since his birth, the collection has been hung in one long continuous display through the floors, with excellent commentary on the audio guide including links to all the info you could possibly want on the great painter. I spent about 2 hours and found it fascinating to watch his development unfold in front of your eyes. The collection is based on the paintings owned by Theo, Vincent's brother. The last paintings I found very moving, including the famous "Wheatfield with Crows" (above) with its disappearing lane, and the disturbing "Treeroots"(below).

After a snack out on the leafy park between the two galleries, I made for the newly revamped Rijksmuseum. It's very impressive indeed. They have cleared away the galleries that had filled up two internal courtyards, glassed them over and formed a wonderful entrance area. Very thoughtfully they have put many of their "Greatest Hits" all in one place, the very grand central gallery. This is dominated by Rembrandt's "Night Watch" at the far end, like a kind of High Altar. But the "side chapels" had already caused me to sit several times, with a scattering of Frans Hals, no fewer than four wonderful Vermeers (right), and a very select group of other Rembrandts, including one of my all-time favourites, the so-called "Jewish Bride" (below). "The Night Watch" itself just sort of stuns you with its scale and skill and general brilliance, but this portrait of a couple drew me in. It was far better than even the best of reproductions. After this genius overload, I wandered around several other galleries, not even attempting to do the whole place, before staggering out into the Dutch sunlight, and a last evening dinner at the hotel.

Daft about Delft

Having had my fill of Vermeer, I moved on to the Old Church - the one with the leaning tower. Like the one in Pisa, it's been leaning for centuries, so I had no anxiety in going in! Like many others in the Netherlands, the interior was denuded after the Reformation, but it is a calm and venerable building. I paid my respects at the grave of Vermeer, and repaired outside to the charming cafe in the square adjoining the church, the Cafe de Oude Jan (above). It was great - sun shining, lovely salad, loads of people from all over. I chatted a little with not one but two families from Spain, and could have stayed all day relaxing. However, I had to return to the other church where I had been unable to get in earlier.

The New Church is more grand than the Old, and it has a special place for Dutch people because the Royal Family have been buried there for centuries. This started when William the Silent, William of Orange, made Delft his centre and became the father of the whole dynasty and indeed "Father of the Fatherland." As a Protestant he fell foul of the Spanish Catholic king, who had him assassinated at the Prinsenhof (Court of the Prince) in Delft, his headquarters, in 1584. You can see the bulletholes on the stairs to this day (left).

Once again the church has been reoriented for the Calvinist emphasis on the pulpit against a righthand pillar. Where the altar would have been is the splendid monument to William (right), and the Royal Vaults lie underneath. Almost all the family are there, one notable exception being of course the one who became our King William III in 1689, and who is buried in Westminster Abbey.
Eventually it was time to leave the lovely old town of Delft. I would recommend it to anyone visiting the Netherlands or looking for a day out of Amsterdam. Fr M definitely approves.

Delighted in Delft

I have a new name to add to my list of favourite places. Delft is a small town sandwiched between the much larger cities of Rotterdam and The Hague. It's known for delftware, which is blue and white glazed pottery, for being the burial place of the Dutch royal family for many generations, and for being the birthplace, home and burial place of Johannes, or Jan, Vermeer, one of my all time top painters. When I was deciding which places outside Amsterdam I was going to visit, it had to be top of the list.

Delft is further away from A'dam than Haarlem, but a good train service got me there in no time. I was soon strolling out of the station, which is being rebuilt underground, causing a lot of roadworks and diversions. However, signs to the "Centrum" soon directed me down an old and narrow alley and I was suddenly immersed in the delights of old Delft. In fact, Old Delft or Oude Delft, is the name of the lovely canal along which you walk to get to the centre, and which won me over. The canal is narrower than most in A'dam, the houses seemed rather smaller, and the whole thing more intimate. I felt drawn into this quiet Dutch town whose history stretched back centuries to a time when it was walled, and one of the most important towns in the country.

Oude Delft led me towards the central Market Square, but not before it had tempted you with glimpses of the leaning tower of the Old Church, further down the canal. I resisted the urge to go and explore that, as my by now traditional coffee and croissant was beckoning in the cafes surrounding the square.  The square, again, seemed more intimate than the one at Haarlem, the buildings less grandiose except for the beautiful Town Hall. Like Haarlem, however, there was a church, this time known as the New Church - new as in only 14th century as opposed to 12th and 13th century Old Church.

Refreshed, I made for the entrance. One 3 euro ticket gets you into both churches, but the nice lady wouldn't change my 50 euro note! So I slid back out of the New, heading for the Old to try my luck there...but along the way I saw "The Vermeer Centre" (left).

This is a sort of resource place for everything to do with Delft's great painter son, including reproductions of all his paintings. Sadly Delft does not hold any of the originals, but it was great to see 'em all together, and have lots about his style etc explained...
(to be continued as I am off to see "Les Mis" at our regular St Brigid's film show")

Globetrotting in Haarlem

It was time for a trip outside Amsterdam. I'd set aside two days to visit places outside the city and had chosen Haarlem and Delft. So the third morning I caught a train from the nearby Centraal Station to this old city which is only twelve miles west.

Haarlem is actually the provincial capital of North Holland, which includes Amsterdam, and historically was more important. It's still the seat of the local Catholic bishop, whose title was only recently changed from Bishop of Haarlem to Bishop of Haarlem-Amsterdam. At its

heart is a huge square, the Great Market, which is dominated by an equally huge church - the Great Church. I'd seen artists' depictions of this square before, and as I walked down from the station to the town centre, it was a bit like walking into a painting. The square was slowly filling up with people. The weather was the only grey day of my A'dam trip, and cafe-frequenters were a bit slow to step out maybe... but I took my place with croissant and cappucino. Soon the scene was lively with mainly locals, but some visitors. I have to admit Dutch does not seem to be the most attractive language, and as I don't understand it there was little chance to eavesdrop on local chat!

The Great Church - St Bavo, the same as Ghent Cathedral - is Dutch Reformed. It's big but rather bare, like other churches I visited in the Netherlands. This throws into relief the beautiful metalwork in the screens and also the carved stalls. Having absorbed the Square and its parts, I wandered down the main shopping street towards perhaps Haarlem's main artistic treasure - the Frans Hals Museum. 

Along the way I spotted an old door open and hinting at very interesting stuff inside. I checked and found it is a hofje, the equivalent really of our almshouses, and they are usually built around a courtyard, as this one is. It's called the Proveniershuis (right), and is an oasis of quiet and greenery in a busy street. Its history goes back to the Middle Ages when it was a convent, but it has housed old folk since 1707. Beautiful.

I pressed on to the Museum, which is located in another, but former, hofje. Hals was a Haarlem local and the Museum has 12 of his paintings, plus others by different artists. The displays are first-class, and it's all on one floor. I've always been keen on Frans Hals, with his free style, less constrained than many of his contemporaries. He seems to be able to achieve so much with few strokes. There are several of his large group portraits, mainly of boards of trustees of the hofjes and the suchlike, plus several single portraits, and one pair of a husband and wife. I particularly liked "The Regentesses of the Home for Old Men" (below), a rather honest portrayal of what looks like some tough ladies.

It was time for a bite, and so I relaxed in the cafe, part of a modern wing added on. I returned to the square via a canal-side walk, which are everywhere in much of the Netherlands. By now it was getting a little darker overhead, so I didn't dawdle in the Square again, but made my way back to teh Station, Holland's oldest apparently, and so back to the huge, busy - and not too attractive Amsterdam Centraal Station.

A'dam New Side

I bought tickets for the Rijkmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank's House on the internet before I went to Amsterdam. Boy, was I glad I did for Anne Frank's House, even if it meant I had to be there for opening time at 9am on the Saturday. By the time I came out the queue was down the street, round the corner and around the neighbouring Church.

Over a million people a year visit the house where the Frank family and four others hid for two years during World War II, and where Anne wrote her diary (left). I was surprised how small the conditions were. The rooms have been left bare at the request of Anne's father, the only one of the eight to survive the camps. The windows are covered as they were during the day. I was glad to have visited this famous spot, but equally glad to get out of there. It connected in my mind back to a harrowing visit to Auschwitz a few years ago... There is an excellent virtual tour on the website I've linked to in the first paragraph. Back out in the fresh air, the air that Anne longed to breathe, a canal-side cappucino and croissant was just what the doctor ordered.

Obviously the canals are one of A'dam's top attractions, and some are indeed very beautiful.

For the rest of the morning I wandered around the famous "Girdle" - three concentric canals built around the original medieval centre. Many of the houses are very dignified, but I think I preferred the smaller, usually older ones. In no time, and after a few pauses at benches to watch canal life go by, several hours had passed, and I arrived at Rembrandtsplein (it's that man again) -  a large square filled with visitors and cafes. I parked myself at one and settled down for some light lunch and people-watching. My guidebook suggested visiting during the day and at night - but I resisted that second temptation.

My return stroll took me along Rokin, one of the main streets and into the principal square, which rejoices in the name Dam. The aerial view (right) is better than the reality, I think. I found this wide expanse a bit deadening and formless, with a rather ugly National Monument. A rather tired magician was trying to hold the crowd. I poked my head inside the New Church, which, with the Royal Palace, dominates the square, but was not particularly grabbed, and made my way back to base. 

Yes, I'm very glad I visited the Anne Frank House, as they call it, and I certainly gave the canals a good going over - essential Amsterdam...

Going Dutch

So, welcome back to me after my summer break. School Masses are being booked, meetings arranged etc etc for the coming months... so definitely time to think back to summer travels.

My now annual time-on-my-own took me this year to Dutch capital Amsterdam. After last year's fun trip on Eurostar, I decided to repeat the experience. So, like last year, it was St Pancras direct to Brussels through the Tunnel, but then north to Amsterdam via Antwerp and Rotterdam, rather than west to Bruges, on the also superfast Thalys train.

Before going I chose a hotel in A'dam close to the station as I wanted to make a few trips out of the city. I looked first at one on the internet which I thought would be out of my league, only to find one hotels site offering a fantastic deal - so my accommodation was great, excellent staff, breakfast was included and the restaurant was good enough to have an evening meal there on a few days.

Weather was great on the whole, so it was in sunshine that I set out on my first morning's exploration of the Old (or east) Side of the city centre. Now, yes, I know, A'dam is (in)famous for its red light district, but if I say I plunged into its narrow streets at 9.30am, you must take my word that it was in order to reach two of the sights that are located right in the middle of it!

"Our Lord in the Attic" is a Catholic chapel (left) hidden away in the attics of three adjacent houses. The Reformation forced the Church underground (or up in the roof) in the Netherlands, like here in Britain. Several of these chapels were constructed, but only one survives. So, rather bizarrely, you climb up through a house only to find a Baroque church three floors up, with adjacent lodging for the priest.

Moving on, and trying to ignore the, er, street life, I then visited the Old Church, the original church of the city, now Protestant of course, and denuded of its Catholic finery. Lastly, before lunch, I paid a visit to the Rembrandt House (below). Here he lived most of his adult life, though he overreached himself financially, and ended up having to sell up. It has been refurnished to look as it did in his day. As a great admirer of Rembrandt I was fascinated.

 

By now it was time for baguette and drink in the lovely street cafe outside, watching the world go by. In the afternoon I strolled slowly back through one of the main shopping areas, Kalverstraat, but found it heaving with people, and on the edge of seedy in a way. I was relieved to turn into the great oasis of peace that is the Begijnhof (below). These were great institutions, Catholic communities of women who were not nuns but often widows or single ladies living in community around  a chapel. You find them dotted over the Netherlands and Belgium. Amazing to find it right in the middle of the bustling city. A wedding was going on in the church, and I sat a while before heading back to my hotel and a traditional Dutch hotpot. Tomorrow... Anne Frank and the New (or west) Side.

Remembering Joseph

Back in May Pope Francis decreed that the name of St Joseph be inserted into Eucharistic Prayers ll, lll and lV, as it in EP l.  With all that was going on that month, I completely forgot about it (sorry St Joseph and Pope Francis!).  So we eventually got around to it this weekend, and I took the opportunity to speak about Joseph at the Sunday Masses.

There was a good response from people - many were grateful because they said we don't hear much about St Joseph. One chap said he didn't even realise we had a statue of him at St Brigid's. He is indeed a little hidden away in Our Lady's Chapel, where he is turned towards his wife. 

So, a renewed effort to remember that he is very much part of the Family - of Nazareth and of the Church, of which he is Guardian. He is also patron of workers as a carpenter, and of the dying, as we assume that Our Lord and Our Lady were both present at his death.

So... "Blessed Joseph, her spouse" it is!

Tulips in...

Good news in the last few days, as Fr Frederick from Bangla Desh confirmed that he can come to spend some time with us in the next month or so. Talking purely selfishly, this means that I can have some time off, not having had a Sunday free since last September (bless!).

So Father comes next Tuesday, and the following day I'm off on the next of my get-to-places-I-always-meant-to-visit jaunts, this year to Amsterdam. So I fixed it all up yesterday over the internet, including tickets for the newly-refurbished Rijksmuseum, Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank House. The wonders of the internet never cease to amaze. The same room at same hotel was quoted at hugely different rates. Going for the cheapest (by far), however, I paid the penalty because Barclays then stoppd my debit card. Apparently the hotel site was based in France, and as I then proceeded to book an Eurostar ticket in UK, their computers suspected fraud, and stopped it. Anyway, Barclays were very good and all was sorted in five minutes. Later I did remember noticing a little statement on the website saying "This bill will be paid in Euros" Caveat emptor!

After that I'm attending a charismatic weekend in Carmarthen and then having some family time. So, plenty to post about coming up...

Vallely on Francis

I read Paul Vallely's new biography of Pope Francis this week - very good and Fr M approves. Glad to see the Tablet agrees with me!  Moving around some of the Catholic blogosphere over the last months since he was elected, I can't help noticing that while many folks are very approving, some are critical of some aspects. But the ones who fascinate me are those who seem particularly quiet. I don't know if it's because they have reservations but their self-professed loyalty to Rome is being stretched, or whether they have little or nothing to say... I don't know. 

Paul Vallely is a respected journalist and has done his homework, especially on the period in Pope Francis's life when he was Provincial of the Jesuits. With some of the media sniffing problems, I was glad to be able to get a clearer picture of that time, and in the end a clearer picture of where he is now.

I was also glad to see comments about teh Pope's evident connection with so-called popular piety - pilgrimages, images etc. As a devoted pilgrim myself, I found much to identify with here. 

Most people I speak to in the parishes speak very highly of their first impressions of the Holy Father. Indeed so do people not of our faith too! And most end their comments with something like - "Hope he keeps it up... We shall see!"  Indeed we shall. Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor has said, apparently, to give him four years and we'll never be the same.

Silence at Copacabana

I watched a lot of World Youth Day on TV. The Saturday evening Prayer Vigil was particularly creative. Its style was obviously Latin American, but included other music too. Here is Matt Maher singing during the Adoration part of the evening, with a couple of million in silence...

3 Churches Mass Video

Our parish website master, Simon, has put together a video from this year's 3 Churches Mass. The soundtrack is the last two hymns from the Mass. Enjoy!

Francis and a young man's Cross

A young Brazilian Felipe Passos moved the hearts of three million World Youth Day participants, including Pope Francis himself, when he told the story of how he became bound to a wheelchair and discovered “the Cross.”  Felipe, 23, spoke at the World Youth Day prayer vigil July 27 at Copacabana Beach.  He told how at the end of the last World Youth Day, in Madrid in 2011, he made two spiritual promises. He promised to stay chaste until marriage and to work hard so his prayer group at Ponta Grossa, in Brazil’s southern state of Paraná, could participate in this year’s World Youth Day in Rio de Janeiro. With few resources, Felipe and his friends began saving money by taking on several hard jobs, at the same time that they prepared themselves spiritually: praying, adoring the Blessed Sacrament, fasting and doing charitable works.

Then a terrible thing happened.  “In January of this year, two days before turning 23, two youths came into my home, armed, to steal the money we had saved with so much sacrifice,” said Felipe.  “I thought of the months of great effort, of my family’s sacrifices, of my friends and colleagues… in what was about to be snatched from us, and I decided I would not hand it over,” he added July 27.  Felipe saved the money of the group, but received a gunshot wound i the neck that almost ended his life.  “I was clinically dead, I had several cardiac arrests, and the doctor told my parents in the hospital ‘this boy has no hope,’ but I’m here and my community is here because of God’s mercy,” remarked Felipe.

In front of a shocked crowd and in front of Pope Francis, who looked at him attentively, the Brazilian told how he was in a coma, breathing through a tube, while his community offered prayers and sacrifices for his healing. Finally, when he regained consciousness, the first thing he did was to ask for the Eucharist, and after receiving it, he improved rapidly. But Felipe, who has since then been wheelchair-bound, said “this is my cross, the cross the Lord sent me, to come closer to him, to live more openly his grace and love.”  

When the three million youths started to applaud, Felipe interrupted them. “Silence!” he said. “Let’s listen to the Holy Spirit!”  The 23-year-old then asked each of the youths present to take the cross they had hung around their neck, to hold it and look at it.  Felipe invited them to meditate in silence on the questions: “What is the cross that the Lord has given me? What is the cross that he wants me to carry for his love?”  Everyone present, including bishops and cardinals, contemplated their own cross around their neck. The wheelchair-bound young man’s words created a unique moment of profound silence along the entire Copacabana beach. Felipe finished his testimony asking for prayers as well as for Pope Francis’ blessing.

Francis and the ex-addict

3 Churches Mass

Pictures from this year's 3 Churches Mass "People of Faith" can now be seen on our Facebook page "3 Churches in Cardiff". I thought I'd put a few of them on here. The first one shows the general scene during Mass. At the altar you can see myself, Fr Tomy and Deacon Rob, chaplain at Corpus Christi, where the Mass is celebrated. The second picture shows some of the music group and choir that made a huge contribution to the Mass, making a very beautiful sound. Then lastly, a nice picture taken during the Sign of Peace. This annual Mass is the main occasion for people from our 3 Churches to come together.