Foreword
"Lantern of the North" Pilgrimage to Elgin Cathedral 7 January 2023
A group of local Catholics has been organising a series of Pilgrimage Masses at sites of historic importance around Catholic Moray. There are plenty of such sites.
On Saturday 7 January the venue was Elgin Cathedral. Its ancient appellation was "The Lantern of the North": so that was the title of the Pilgrimage.
There is an aisle on the South side of the Cathedral Choir, quite reminiscent of the Pluscarden Transept aisles, but loftier and more ornate. Maybe this was once the Cathedral's Lady Chapel? Anyway, it has enough vaulted roof left to cover the pilgrims who came, (perhaps around 50?), and the Altar for the Mass.
The organisers were keen for Pluscarden brethren to attend, if possible: two eventually went. Fr. Chris Doig of Elgin celebrated the Mass, but the Homily was entrusted to Pluscarden.
The site of Elgin Cathedral is nowadays beautifully kept and marked; there are museum displays, and you can go up the Western Towers. The normal entrance fee is around £10.
Who could not share, though, the indignation of Dr. Johnson, that such a magnificent building can have been allowed to fall into ruin and desolation??
The accompanying pictures were taken by Daiusz Sledz.
Homily for Elgin Cathedral - John 2:1-11
799 years ago King Alexander II of Scotland ordered work to begin on this Cathedral. And only a few years later, in 1230, the same King ordered another notable Church to be built, with a monastery attached, just 6 miles to the East, at Pluscarden. Of course at neither place do we see now what the King’s builders then achieved. Both Churches underwent subsequent modifications, extensions and adaptations. Both were severely damaged by fire, which on at least one occasion, in 1390, was entirely deliberate. But in both Churches the damage was repaired, or patched up, and both continued in use, as the centuries rolled on. Then 1560 happened. The Catholic religion was abolished in Scotland. The Mass was banned, on pain of death. Monastic life was suppressed. And these Churches, which were built above all as a setting for the Mass, no longer had any function. In fact they were regarded by the ruling Party as abominable monuments of Popish superstition. In 1568 the lead was stripped from the roof of this Cathedral, to be used now not for God’s glory, but for the prosecution of war.
This act of vandalism in particular aroused the indignation of Dr. Samuel Johnson. Following his visit with James Boswell in 1773, he noted with grim satisfaction that the “cargo of sacrilege was lost at sea”.
With the lead gone, the roof lay unprotected, and quite soon fell in. The useless Cathedral, like the Pluscarden nave, then became a convenient quarry, full of beautifully dressed stonework, lying around ready for re-use in local building operations.
And so what we see now are just ruins; remains that happen to have survived; curious relics from a former age now long gone.
Yet even now we can see how magnificent this Cathedral once was. Imagination has to supply the details. Where there is now yawning space, there once stood a great central tower, surmounted by a spire. Underneath that the eye would have been drawn ever upwards, and astonished, by high arches, surmounted by soaring vaulting, all beautifully proportioned and balanced. Then all about there would have been rich interior furnishings, including finely carved Choir stalls; colourful hangings; bright paintings on wall or canvas; statues of Saints or deceased Bishops; stained glass windows; at least one fine organ; richly decorated Altars, ornamented stands of candles all about: then up in the Western Towers, a great peal of bells. And above all, in place of the current occasional sprinkling of paying tourists, there would have been the bustle of daily Cathedral life. The resident Canons kept the liturgy going, several times each day, assisted by the choristers from the Cathedral School. Both Mass and the Divine Office were fully sung; sometimes also celebrated with lavish ceremonial, especially when in the presence of the Bishop. On occasion the King himself would visit, surrounded by his court. Otherwise there would be people of all sorts coming and going: clergy, cleaners, noble Knights and Ladies, soldiers, farmers, servants, lawyers, merchants, housewives, peasant labourers, children, artisans, craftsmen, monks, shop keepers, teachers, beggars, pensioners, pilgrims; people coming to assist at Mass or the Divine Office; people coming to receive the Sacraments; people just coming in order to pray.
Now these ruins seem to stand as a monument to lost or abandoned faith. But originally they were put up, at enormous expense, to be a massive sign of faith fully alive, faith confident and secure, faith utterly Catholic. Of course behind it all there were plenty of mixed motives. The buildings stand as a potent sign, for sure, of the power and dominance of the King, recently victorious over rebellious rivals. They were an occasion of civic pride for the folk of Elgin, whose small out-of-the-way town was now a City, with a Cathedral to rival any other in the land. And yes, Alexander II was a man noted for his ruthlessness, outstanding even in this violent age for brutality and cruelty towards any who got in his way. But let none of that detract from the central purpose of the Cathedral. This building exists to proclaim that God is very great, and to be worshipped. These noble walls speak of the truth, and goodness, and beauty, of the Catholic Faith. They silently but powerfully cry out that Jesus Christ is Lord. He is our Saviour. His word is truth. Jesus is our way to God. In Him we have forgiveness of sins, and healing, and life. Jesus teaches us supreme wisdom: how to live, and how to die.
The visible Church building expresses also the visibility of the Church, which in the sacramental order is an extension of the Incarnate Body of Jesus. Here is something you can see, and feel, and touch, yet from which, we believe, divine grace flows. The style of building also powerfully speaks. Although a quite unique architectural creation, Elgin Cathedral conforms to standard patterns of Church architecture found at the time not only over all Scotland, but over all Western Europe. So these walls express also the communion of the Catholic Church, presided over by the Bishop of Rome, and locally by the Bishop in communion with him. In those days he was the Bishop of Moray. Now our Bishop has his seat in Aberdeen. Through this Bishop, whose Chair of authority is set in his Cathedral, we have a living link with the Church Jesus founded on his Apostles and their successors.
I have emphasised the sign value of the Cathedral. But it also had a supremely practical purpose. It was put up in order to be a fitting setting for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.
Through the sacramental signs of bread and wine, we believe, the saving death of Jesus Christ our Lord is offered, here and now, to God the Father. In these signs, made now his Body and Blood, Jesus is truly present among us. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we thus have immediate access to all the fruits of the saving death of Jesus, which we offer for our own good, and for the good of those for whom we especially pray.
The Cathedral was certainly not the only place Mass was celebrated in or near Elgin. There was also the parish Church of St. Giles in the centre of town. Up on Lady Hill, the Castle had its own Chapel, presumably with its own resident Chaplain. Later, still within Elgin itself, there were the Churches of the Greyfriars Franciscans and the Blackfriars Dominicans. Then of course the Bishop retained a Chapel at his palace in Spynie. Birnie Kirk was certainly still going; we know there was a Chapel also at Pittendreich. At one time too there were the three nearby monasteries: Benedictines at Urquart; Valliscaulians at Pluscarden and Cistercians at Kinloss.
And now, there is us, celebrating Mass, maybe for only the second or third time since the Reformation, here amid the Cathedral ruins. We seem to symbolise a tiny flock, almost lost amid a surrounding sea of unbelief. Yet by God’s providence we do so in context of the Epiphany. The Epiphany celebrates Christ’s light shining amidst the darkness; the light that the darkness could not overpower.
Happily today’s Gospel reading already sets before us one aspect of the Epiphany: the manifestation of Jesus at the wedding feast of Cana in Galilee. We are doing now what that married couple then did. We are inviting Jesus to come and join us. We do so, quite boldly, reminding ourselves that he comes here not only as a guest, but more truly as the master of this house, which by rights belongs exclusively to Him.
Our Lady tells the servants - tells us: Do whatever he tells you. What does Jesus tell us? Proclaim the Gospel. Carry your Cross. Love God, and love one another. Forgive, as you have been forgiven. Pray, without ceasing. Believe. Hope. But, most concretely: Do this, in memory of me. Celebrate the Holy Eucharist. Go to Mass.
When Jesus turned water into wine, the Steward of the feast exclaimed: You have kept the best wine until now!
Let me offer for now one interpretation of this best wine. Let me take it to represent the present moment. We may look back on a great age of faith with some nostalgia: yet our vocation is to bear the life of Jesus amid our own situation, as it is just now, in both Church and the world. And this is best for us. Here through the Mass, God asks us, simply, to give him everything, as he in Jesus gives us everything. He invites us - he gives us the grace- to be transformed from sinners into Saints, from enemies of God into his beloved children; and from those doomed to perish, into joyful inhabitants of heaven: through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.