A Roman Catholic in Anglican England

A lively throng of English high school students crowded onto the London Underground after school let out, taking seats without breaking stride in their conversations. This was clearly a typical after-school occurrence, save for one glaring detail: a big black cross of ash streaked across the forehead of one of the girls. Despite the many situational layers that could have made her self conscious – being the only one among friends with a black cross on her forehead, sitting on the train in close quarters with strangers without acknowledging the cross by word or action, walking through the bustling streets of mid-week London with a sign of her faith openly displayed to the public – she acted completely at peace in her current state. She was unashamedly wearing her faith on her forehead.

I heard about this particular encounter with an Ash Wednesday cross in bustling London in the homily at Mass this Sunday. The sense of awe that the priest felt during his meeting with this student was consistent with a couple encounters I had that same day last week. I ran into a family with crosses on their foreheads around lunchtime on a busy London road, made brief, knowing eye contact with the mom, and was filled with joy at the sight of fellow Catholics owning their faith among city commotion.

Ash Wednesday felt particularly significant this year because it caused us to stand out as people of faith in a largely secular country that doesn’t talk about faith very often. Since Church and State are not separated in the UK like they are at home, I assumed there would be much more public discourse on religion here. Yet events like the Anglican prayer service Evensong have become woven into the fabric and routine of the city without carrying religious significance for everyone who attends. People go to Evensong just as they go to tea. It’s what the English do.

I have become fascinated with Anglicanism and with exploring the history of relationships between Anglicans and Catholics since arriving in the country the Anglican Communion calls home. Many American Catholics, including myself previous to my arrival here, are only aware of King Henry VIII’s desire to get divorced and the Catholic Church’s refusal to let him do so as the event that started Anglicanism. While this is accurate, there are also so many more details to explore regarding the split between the Church of Rome and the Church of England. A history of tension prefaced the split. Events such as Martin Luther’s release of his 95 theses in 1522 (and things that prompted this to come about) and the martyrdom of people such as St. Thomas Becket and St. Thomas More as well as general religious and political tension all contributed the formation of a separate branch of Christianity called Anglicanism. Henry VIII happened to be the one to make it official. Many differences in theology and liturgical practices between Catholicism and Anglicanism originated during the reigns of King Edward VI and Elizabeth I, rather than that of Henry. So did far and wide persecution of Catholics.

The Westminster Cathedral was constructed in the nineteenth century after Catholicism was made legal in England and Wales again. It is dedicated to the Precious Blood, which is fascinating because it both expresses gratitude and awe for Christ’s sacrifice and nods to the Catholic blood that had been shed over the last several centuries in England by saints and martyrs. Rather than adopting the Gothic architectural style of the nearby Westminster Abbey which was originally Catholic but made Anglican during the Reformation, the architect of Westminster Cathedral was largely influenced by the Catholic Byzantine tradition. The very architecture of this space indicates the urge of Catholics in nineteenth century England to re-establish themselves as strong people of faith in a country they had been persecuted in for hundreds of years. 

London's Westminster Cathedral. Image from panoramio.com.

Choices like the dedication of Westminster Cathedral to the Precious Blood and traditions such as saying the Hail Mary after the Prayers of the Faithful in Mass continue to indicate residual scars from past religious tension in England. Some think the ritual of praying for Our Lady’s intersession at this particular time (which is not a part of the official Catholic liturgical rite) arose out of a desire to express the uniqueness of the Catholic faith in a country where Anglicanism is the official religion. It feels strange to insert the Hail Mary into the Mass in such a structured way, as if the Catholic Church in England is still trying to prove a point to Anglicans. “This is our prayer,” it seems to say. “This is different – just like the architecture of our Cathedral.”

Learning more about the history of Anglicanism and Catholicism in England has been a fascinating blessing for me. During my first month in London I have had the opportunity to visit many physical spaces where religious history has been shaped in England, which brings the history to life for me. I have attended Evensong at Anglican Westminster Abbey and at Magdalen College in Oxford, celebrated Mass in Westminster Cathedral and other Catholic churches in the London area, visited the Tower of London, where St. Thomas More was held and executed, and toured many additional churches in both the Anglican and Catholic traditions. I have noted many similarities and some differences between these two Christian faith traditions during my time here, but have not witnessed much outward dialogue about their relationship or about different religious traditions in general.

The lack of conversation about Anglicanism, Catholicism, and other faith traditions could indicate the healing over of past wounds, but many people have clearly not yet let go of memories from centuries past. Though there is not a separation of church and state here – the Queen and the Prime Minister both play prominent roles in the Anglican Communion – there seems to be radio silence about religion in the wake of a tumultuous history. And there seems to be more to talk about.

I am a Roman Catholic in Anglican England, but I have felt supported in my Catholic faith during my time in London so far. However, hope to witness increased communication between people of varying religious traditions throughout the semester. London should provide the perfect global platform for conversations between religions that our world is so desperately in need of. These conversations can start in small, organic ways: when three of my friends and I went into a coffee shop on our lunch break last Wednesday, our cashier asked me about the significance of our “markings,” which I explained are a sign of our faith on the first day of Lent. She let me know that she and her co-workers would make crosses with cocoa powder on their foreheads when they got off their shift because they didn’t have any palms on hand to create ashes. I told her I think cocoa powder is the next best thing.

Image from darkroom.baltimoresun.com

Works Consulted:

http://anglican.org/church/ChurchHistory.html

https://www.churchofengland.org/our-faith/being-an-anglican/anglican.aspx