Tag Archives: Holy Eucharist

St. Ansfridus, Amersfoort

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St. Ansfridus

Several weeks ago I mentioned to friends on Facebook that although I would manage to attend church on most of the Sundays of my summer vacation, the Sunday I would be in the Netherlands would be a ‘churchless Sunday’, since I had never been to church on my annual visit to friends there. Apparently in saying this I threw down some kind of cyberspace gauntlet, and was informed quite speedily that I was mistaken and that we would, in fact, find a church service to attend. I must say, for the record, that this wasn’t meant to be any kind of challenge or rebuke, and I was even looking forward a little to having an opportunity to think about what a Sunday without church was like. It just turns out that it wasn’t to be last Sunday.

My super-efficient friends easily found out which of the seven churches in their diocese would be holding services, and we had two choices. We decided to go to St. Ansfridus, where there would be a service at 11am. You have probably not heard of St. Ansfridus, or St. Ansfried; this is the only church in the world dedicated to him. He was Bishop of Utrecht from 995 to 1010. After his wife died he wanted to become a monk but instead was made Bishop. He founded two abbeys (including one where his daughter was Abbess). Towards the end of his life he went blind, and was finally allowed to become a monk. Before I go any further, I have to say that St. Ansfridus is a Roman Catholic church, and I do not speak Dutch. It all sounds rather promising, doesn’t it?

I am blessed with many wonderful friends, and my Dutch friends are particularly so. Not only did M and S get all of us to church on time (involving two small children and someone having to get there by bike) but M made sure I knew what was going on by giving me translations of a lot of the remarks, prayers and homily. She also checked beforehand that it would be all right for me to receive a blessing when everyone received communion.

And now I have to admit a great deal of ignorance when it comes to how the Roman Catholic Church operates in some European countries (I am told this is true of the Netherlands, France and Germany). I must say, I really like Pope Francis, but there are plenty of things I could happily list that I don’t like about the Roman Church, and chief among them would be the patriarchal nature of the hierarchy, and the refusal to allow women to be priests.

So it was with total, utter amazement that I attended this service, which included communion (with consecrated host) led completely by women. There was a small choir and their leader was a man, but apart from that, everything was done by women. Yes, really. The woman who led the service was called Josephine and she was a ‘pastoraal werker’ or pastoral worker. The translation doesn’t help much because the term doesn’t seem to exist in English, so I will try as far as I understand it to explain it.

Of course, there are priests, but this particular parish of seven churches only has one full-time priest and one part-time priest. There are also deacons. And then there are pastoral workers who are not ordained, but have studied at some kind of theological college and work full-time for the church. While they can’t celebrate the Eucharist, they can provide communion for the people using already-consecrated host, and this is what happened on Sunday. They can also, at the discretion of the parish priest, officiate at baptisms and funerals. When they lead services they are vested and preach. They do far more than what in Anglican churches is called a Lay Eucharistic Minister (LEM). This is a job they do during the week too, visiting the sick and housebound and sharing in the ministry of the parish.

Back to the service last Sunday. The service began with some remarks about the terrible things we see going on in the world, and our confusion that they even happen at all. Then followed hymns (familiar tunes so I sang along with the verses I could remember), reading from the Bible (by another woman), a homily and prayers. It was all thoughtful, prayerful and rather lovely. With M providing translation as we went along I felt I understood quite a lot.

One challenge was to find where we were in the booklet and leaflet. The booklet was one issued by the diocese for use by every church that day, and the leaflet was specifically for St. Ansfridus. We seemed to jump around in the booklet but M kept up and made sure I knew where we were.

A lot of the service seemed to be familiar elements. At the communion, the pastoral worker and the woman who had read the Gospel both administered the host, and although there must have been fifty or sixty people it was all done very speedily. Of course, there was no chalice. When it was my turn I received a blessing. It has been a long time since I received a blessing instead of communion, but I found it meaningful and moving.

After the service we had coffee and I had an opportunity to meet Josephine and hear a little about her work. There was another pastoral worker present and he was the one who said the same system exists in France and Germany. I was at once amazed that I had no idea this happened and also sorry that I had assumed the Catholic Church didn’t allow women to do anything like this.

So, as far as a welcome is concerned, I was welcomed very warmly, and as a non-Dutch-speaking, non-Catholic I felt very comfortable. There were no greeters, ushers or sidespeople. Everyone seemed to know what to do and picked up everything they needed. They also put money in a basket to pay for the booklet and leaflet used in the service. Afterwards, during coffee, people were helpful but I only spoke to Josephine and briefly a man who knew M from the choir.

I certainly knew what was going on and what to do because I had M by my side explaining and guiding me, for which I am extremely grateful. If she hadn’t been there then I would have understood what was going on (the Gospel, the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, receiving communion) but I wouldn’t have known what was said in the remarks, prayers or homily. The music was printed in the papers we had, but the challenge was finding where they were. The choir leader conducted the people as well, and everyone seemed to know what to do.

I left St. Ansfridus feeling very grateful that I had friends who had been determined that I not have a ‘churchless Sunday’, that I had received a warm welcome and could worship with them. The congregation was in great part elderly, with very few people under fifty. The building itself was lovely; not stunningly so but a beautiful, peaceful place to be. Unfortunately, with falling numbers and not enough people to lead services, the church could be closing soon.

It was an eye-opening experience for me. It turns out the Catholic Church is not at all how I thought, at least in some European countries. What a wonderful, churchful Sunday it was.

Sheffield Cathedral, 8th Sunday after Trinity

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Sheffield Cathedral

Over twenty years ago I used to work in the centre of Sheffield, and because the only bus I could catch which got me to work in time actually had me in the city centre much earlier than I needed, I often attended the morning Eucharist at the cathedral. There were never many people there, but it was a lovely way to start the day. In the years since I have often popped in to the cathedral for a few minutes of prayer or just to sit quietly, and once went to a carol service, but it had been a long time since I attended a Eucharist.

Yesterday morning started a foul, rainy, windy day, as the weather forecasts had been threatening. Hurricane Bertha had become Tropical Storm Bertha and then, apparently ex-Bertha, but still brought plenty of unpleasant weather to Sheffield. So I was doing my best impression of a drowned rat as I scuttled into the cathedral at about 10am. In fact, my first challenge was actually managing to find my way into the building, because where the entrance had previously been there was now the front of the cathedral shop and only a window. The entrance was a little further round, and waiting inside were two greeters or sidespeople.

One of the things I have been thinking about a lot is how a church welcomes visitors, and so, as a Sheffield girl I am happy to report that I received a lovely welcome. As well as the service book (with everything printed inside) there was a gift aid envelope (for donating money if you’re a UK taxpayer) and the weekly bulletin or newsletter, plus sheet music for the responses. I was very happy to receive the music, since most churches don’t provide it, and it’s a surefire way to make a visitor feel completely left out of the service. The two people greeting everyone were very helpful, and answered all my questions. There was also information inside the booklet about receiving communion etc. which I thought was useful.

There was still about twenty minutes before the service began, so I went on a wander for old times’ sake, taking a few photos as I went. Even though there was plenty of activity as people got ready for the service, there were still several side chapels where I could sit quietly and not be disturbed by all the bustle.

Just before the service began, the Canon who was the main celebrant made some announcements, mainly about clergy who were not there, including one, announced with great glee, who was away with the diocesan camping trip. (Remember, there was torrential rain at the time.) Having established that there were very few clergy in attendance, there was a short time of silence before the service began. The cathedral seemed relatively empty, I suppose because of summer holidays and inclement weather. I’d like to go again when more people are there.

At the confession, the booklet stated, ‘we sit or kneel’ but following the renovations to the cathedral the old, dark wood pews had been removed, and new, lighter wood pews, minus kneelers, had replaced them. So for the confession everyone sat, and so did I, but after a few seconds I decided I just couldn’t, so knelt directly on the cold stone floor. Uncomfortable, but better than sitting.

As I have already mentioned, I had been given some sheet music when I arrived, and I had assumed that this would include all the arrangements used in the service, but I quickly discovered this wasn’t the case. Sigh. We sang the Gloria, to some arrangement I hadn’t heard before. I caught on eventually, but was already thinking, what is the point of giving me only some of the music? The service continued; the directions were clear, so I knew what I was supposed to be doing and when.

The sermon was reasonably interesting, based on the gospel reading from Matthew chapter 14, but about thirty-six hours later I can’t remember more than the general points. After the Creed came the intercessions, and I wasn’t hugely thrilled, for two reasons. The first is one of my ongoing objections to the Church of England, specifically that it is the established church, which in the twenty-first century seems absurd to me. Any prayers for ‘Elizabeth our queen’ have me opening my eyes and staring around beadily in an irritated manner. Of course, no one else does the same, so I quickly simmer down and close my eyes again. The second thing that surprised me about the intercessions was the editorialising that was going on, the kind of bush telegraph feeling, the extra information the intercessor was adding. I felt it was unnecessary, it seemed more for the benefit of the people present than anything the Almighty needed to know.

And so on to the Eucharistic Prayer and the receiving of communion, which didn’t take very long, partly because the congregation seemed quite thin on the ground, and also because there was an efficient system for moving people up to the altar and back to the pews.

The service was over and the organist played the voluntary. The booklet stated, ‘we warmly invite you to sit for the playing of the Organ Voluntary, or to leave at this point without disturbing those who wish to listen’ and so I sat to listen and noticed that a lot of the regulars around me were already having a good chat to their friends, hmmm. The voluntary finished, and there was the usual round of applause for the organist. Why do people do this? I particularly dislike it, we seem to end the service to the glory of the organist and it seems inappropriate to me. I wish people wouldn’t do it.

As people were leaving I looked around the cathedral a bit more, particularly at the altar and the angels in the roof above it. They have always been there, but following the renovations they are well-lit and beautiful. (You can see them in the photograph at the top of this post.) I decided all altars should have angels over them.

As I left a different person was on duty in the entrance. I returned the music sheet and she asked if I wanted to sign up for any of the activities they had coming up. I was impressed with the way information was available, even though it wasn’t applicable to me. I think newcomers would feel able to join in but not pressured to do so.

So, Sheffield Cathedral. It was lovely to be back, and following the renovations the interior is stunning. It is a lovely, airy space, with plenty of places for quiet, private prayer. I felt I didn’t see the service at its full-on best, and would like to go again when the congregation is bigger. I would like them to provide all the music, not just some of it, and kneelers for people who don’t wish to sit for the confession and intercessions. I was happy to feel so welcomed, and look forward to visiting again at Christmas.

Holy Eucharist, Norwich Cathedral

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Norwich Cathedral

Since there was no 10am service at St. Julian’s or the guesthouse this morning, I decided to go to the 11am Holy Eucharist at the cathedral. When I arrived I checked which of the side chapels was being used and found out it was the Jesus Chapel. It’s small (of course) with curved stalls along the wall.

When I arrived there were already about ten people there, and it seemed as though about half of them were regulars, the other half visitors. Most of them were elderly. I found a place to sit and found in front of me my old friend, the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. There was just time for me to find the right page before the priest, verger and one other man in a cassock entered the chapel and began the service.

It was not the most uplifting of experiences. The celebrant launched into the service without announcing the page number, and proceeded through the service without any reference to where we were at in the book. The third man of the trio read the lesson, in such a halting way that it seemed he hadn’t read it ahead of time.

As was pointed out to me later in the day, the Eucharist is still a sacred and moving act of worship, no matter what surrounds it, and I am glad I went. Norwich Cathedral is beautiful and I enjoyed having the opportunity to worship there and have another look round.

What disappointed me was the perfunctory nature of the service, the disconnect between the priest and the people assembled to worship. To not announce the page numbers, to go through the motions when you are in a place of pilgrimage and sight-seeing, when the possibility of visitors or people new to the service must be high, seems a particularly unwelcoming way of going about things. In York Minister, I have found that the priest who has celebrated the Eucharist generally stands outside the chapel and greets people as they leave, but today the three men left the chapel and that was the end of the service.

A breathtakingly lovely building, but a missed opportunity to really welcome people into the heart of the worship it has been home to for over nine hundred years.