New Bishop of London: “Safeguarding is at the heart of the Gospel.”

No, it’s not. 

In fact, the most cursory knowledge of history and of current events informs that believing and preaching the Gospel is a good way to get killed or at least blackballed.  Anyone who preaches the Gospel and insists on the orthodox preaching of the Gospel by clergy has a snowball's chance of becoming a bishop in today’s Church of England, token flying bishops excepted . . . for now.

To be fair, Sarah Mullally was referring to churches safeguarding the young and vulnerable from abuse.  Certainly, churches have important roles to play in that regard.  But is safeguarding “at the heart of the Gospel”?

No.

Remembrance Day Disturbance at Westminster Abbey

I’ve had an excellent Remembrance Day in Westminster. An beautiful and solemn special service at the Abbey; a parade with what had to be thousands of veterans, many so old I wondered how they could march the whole route; an hour of change-ringing from the Abbey against a bright cloudless sky – all this and more made it a great day.

And I may say more about that in due time. But the end of the day was a bit too interesting.

During Evensong at Westminster Abbey, a disturbed gentleman created a disturbance in the North aisle beside the Quire. Clothed and in his right mind he was most definitely not.

Now, I did not eyewitness the incident though I most definitely heard it as he was shouting and rattling around. I did hear after the service that he stripped during his episode. I did not bother to ask if he wore boxers or starkers.

The episode began shortly before or during the First Lesson. It ended during or shortly after the Second Lesson. The vergers were concerned enough that they closed the quire screen for a time. But the service did not stop.

The choir carried on admirably. One chorister was in tears for a moment, but he, too, carried on. Good on him! I am very impressed with the choir. They have been sounding great and sounded great even tonight under trying circumstances.

I cannot blame the chorister if he was frightened. It was a bit frightening. In the Quire, I could not see what was going on. At times I thought it might have been organized with more than one person involved. I was honestly considering what action to take to defend myself and others if matters escalated and someone entered the Quire itself. It was only during the sermon that we were informed it was one disturbed man.

As I've mentioned, there was a lot of rattling around during some of the disturbance. So after the service I asked a verger if any damage was done. He said no.

I did not ask and do not know just exactly how the disturbance was ended or whether law enforcement was called in. It was most certainly handled with restraint.

As if that is not enough, I attended the organ recital not long afterwards. And the organist turned out to be a very accomplished but perhaps slightly mad Russian named Ilya Kudryavtsev.

Why do I question his sanity? He played Alain’s Trois Dances. Those who have had the misfortune of hearing this piece and remembering it will understand.

But at least he kept his clothes on.

Banqueting House Whitehall

I mentioned that when I visited London on St. Edward’s Eve, I did more than listen to two great choirs. One destination was the Banqueting House at Whitehall.

Seeing the great ceiling paintings of Peter Paul Rubens is worth the price of admission and is, in fact, the main attraction.

The main reason I found the paintings interesting is the insight they give into the mentality of Charles I. He had the paintings done in honor of his father King James I and, boy, do they honor him. I found them over the top to the point of being funny.

In the central painting, King James ascends up into heaven accompanied by the heavenly host. In another, personified England and Scotland look gratefully upon the wise James on his throne. And the whole scheme has virtues triumphing over vices, because of King James, of course.

The ceiling portrays the past King of England as godlike . . . which is not far akin from how Charles saw himself as king. An examination of the ceiling gives a good idea as to how Charles could be so insufferable he got his head lopped off.

And the ceiling is one of the last things Charles saw, which is ironic indeed.

By the way, Oxford, which was King Charles’ friendly home for much of the Civil War, still seems to be fighting said war. Portraits and statues of him are everywhere.

St. Edward the Confessor Eve in London

This past Wednesday I spent an excellent Eve of the Feast of the Translation of St. Edward the Confessor in London. My chief missions were two:

1. To worship on the special day at Westminster Abbey, founded by St. Edward. The Choral Evensong was packed with some having to sit in the Nave and was broadcast on BBC, which said broadcast can still be heard for a couple more days. Although I would have selected different music in places, the choir sounds great.

But, having worshipped on the same day at the Abbey back in ’07, there were two disappointments this time. After the service, we did not get to circumnavigate the shrine of St. Edward. And when I stepped outside, there was no change ringing from the Abbey bells. But I am still glad I went.

2. To hear the Choir of King’s College Cambridge sing Mozart near King’s Cross. It was a very interesting and enjoyable performance. And the choir sounds great as always.

Mainly early Mozart was performed, particularly Missa Brevis in C, K140 and Missa Brevis in D, K194. Both were lively as is typical of Mozart and, well, brevis and that for interesting cause. The Archbishop of Salzburg at the time was of a reforming bent and did not like long masses. In fact, he wanted them no longer than 45 minutes! Mozart did not appreciate that much as is understandable, but he certainly adapted well in his composition.

A much longer piece was also played, Divertimento in B flat, Second Londron Night Music. The piece was entirely instrumental, being played by the Dante Quartet. It is interesting, and I enjoyed it, but it takes a little endurance to listen to the whole piece. It was amusing to see some of the idle boys in the choir get bored.

One pleasant surprise of the evening was to see Samuel Landman back in the choir, a choral scholar now and a bass of all things.

By the way, my seat was front row. That is not supposed to be the best seat for a musical performance, but I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. It was great.

As if my day was not full enough, I did some exploring as well. But I will leave off for now.

(Aside: Yes, I finally got some serious sleep overnight. Can you tell? I think the matriculating Freshers drunk themselves into an early stupor yesterday.)

A Crazy Providential Day at St. Paul’s

Monday, I took a much needed day off to visit St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. On the pleasantly crisp sunny day, I was first eating lunch in Pater Noster Square when I noticed an ominous dark cloud between the buildings. I knew that wasn’t weather; something had happened. I wondered if people would soon be running by in a panic.

But I finished my lunch, then walked over to the cathedral. I was just inside, about to pay for a ticket, when we were informed that a bomb had gone off, that no one could go in or out of the cathedral, and that we were to go into the crypt.

So I looked around in the crypt a while, then noticed it was getting less crowded. So I went back up and found out that it was a warehouse fire near the 2012 Olympic site, not a terrorist bomb.

A little later on, I was on a tour when the fire alarm went off, and the cathedral was evacuated. Outside, three fire trucks drove up, but there was no fire. But they couldn’t get the fricking alarm to turn off either. So the cathedral was shut down for the afternoon.

That wasn’t too bad though. I walked around and saw things I might not have otherwise, like the Millennium Bridge and two small churches. It’s something how many smaller old churches are near St. Paul’s.

The alarm was such a problem, though, that at one point, staff thought Choral Evensong that evening was going to be cancelled. Now that would have been a serious bummer. That’s a big reason I chose that day to come. But while I was talking with staff, word came that Evensong was on.

And it was a glorious service. The boys (It was only the choristers singing that night.) were a bit off and seemed not to know some of their parts very well. Perhaps their practice was cancelled because of the alarm. But they still sounded wonderful in the amazing acoustics of St. Paul’s. And hearing Revelation 5 read while looking up at the apse which so well portrays Christ in glory was . . . well, glorious.

So it was an excellent day after all in spite of the false alarms.

There was one other way in which the day was providential. On Mondays, I normally go to Magdalen for Evening Prayer. It’s the one choristers-only service among the three Oxford foundations, so I automatically go there then. Well, Tuesday morning, I noticed that Magdalen didn’t have its usual Monday Evening Prayer but a Eucharist for Affirming Catholicism instead. If I hadn’t gone to London, I likely would have unknowingly walked right into that.

Now that scares me more than any bomb or fire alarm!