AN221: Anthropology of Christianity Dr. Fenella Cannell Alexandra Kane 26 April 2010

AN221: Anthropology of Christianity Dr. Fenella Cannell

Alexandra Kane 26 April 2010

Practical Ecumenism: The Place of the Orthodox Church at Walsingham
Pulling into Walsingham after a bumpy bus ride through the English countryside, I was greatly taken aback by our alighting point being home to a small Russian orthodox chapel. I was shocked at the sight of that strange looking cross that my Russian grandfather wore in a small English village home to a traditionally Anglican pilgrimage center. Raised Catholic but with Russian Orthodox roots and exposure on my mother’s side, I questioned the relevance and necessity for an Orthodox parish in Norfolk – I had only ever seen Orthodox congregations, outside of Eastern European states, in the immigration-rich communities of the Northeastern United States where I grew up. As we headed down to the main shrine center, the puzzling nature of an Orthodox presence was superseded by the, then, far more interesting question I was setting out to research – Roman Catholics and Anglicans making pilgrimages to the same site? A mile apart? What was that relationship?
At dinner that evening, a fellow classmate told me about an Orthodox mass the next morning. Assuming it was at the same chapel, I readily agreed – I had a Russian Orthodox aunt whom had just suffered from a stroke. I figured it would be a nice gesture to attend an Orthodox mass like we did as children and, perhaps, light a candle. It was a nostalgic indulgence at most. When I was told that the Orthodox chapel was not only within the inner center of Walshingham, but actually inside the Anglican shrine’s edifice did I find myself so doggedly interested in this “bizarre” arrangement. A fair few people (pilgrims, staff clergy and pilgrim clergy) that we met tried to explain relationship between the Catholics and Anglicans but to no real point of scholarly interest. The Orthodox presence was a far more pressing and dynamic notion to me.
Five of us attended the Orthodox mass that morning from our trip. There was one woman who stood in the back, she didn’t say much. Another woman was standing at a pulpit, reciting all the prayers and hymns back with the priest. I did not assume that the woman at the pulpit was anyone special, but that the woman in the back was more reserved, thus not participating in this highly interactive mass. A long mass, two and a half hours on one’s feet, I was literally blown away by the existence and experience of this tiny chapel one flight above the Anglican Lady of Walsingham. The Great Schism and violent iconoclastic movements have been rendered down to a mere few inches of wood, beams, and flooring – the only thing separating two religions deviant after one of the greatest divides in modern Western history. Known for their grandeur and theatrics, this tiny room – could barely hold more than ten standing individuals – had all of the intimacy, engagement and mesmerizing qualities of a large Orthodox church. The décor was spot on – beautifully shined icons, elaborate crosses, gold accents and regal old incense burners; it was even equipped with the tiny room behind the tabernacle with the closing doors. As a child I used to think that God was back there – God in a truly physical, tangible form. That mystery was kept in this small space even twenty years later. This was an Orthodox experience in every way, shape and form. The Anglicans made no sacrifice and nor did this minority congregation.
The priest spoke in English, inserting a bit of Greek here and there, but obviously reading his audience. A regal man with a long grey beard stretching halfway down his abdomen, the priest was heavily adorned from head to toe with a commanding and charismatic voice. Halfway through the mass, a young woman with a headscarf quietly entered the back of the chapel with her three young children. Looking as if they walked out of a small village in the Eastern bloc circa 1941, the orchestration of this woman and her three children as they navigated through the myriad of genuflects, hand motions and other ritualistic bodily disciplines of the mass made me feel…small, outside, unable to fully understand. The boy, no older than seven or eight, more than likely did not know or the political and theological background to why he was kissing a cross and looking at an idol instead of kissing the Virgin Mary’s feet, but did so with a conviction I have never observed at any typical (Catholic) Sunday Mass that I have attended over the years.
The Mass ended with the priest blessing a separate Host offering for us researchers to take. As we turned to file out, the woman behind the pulpit, who turned out to be the priest’s wife, invited us back to the café bar for tea and a chat. The following is a paraphrasing of the ‘interview’ – it was far more conversational – that I had with both the priest and his wife. We mostly spoke as a large group, rather than as researchers versus informants, and thus the answers sometimes addressed several different issues.
Alexandra: Who are the main pilgrims that come to Walsingham?

Orthodox Priest: Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Orthodox and even Methodists.
AK: What unites them? Being American, I had a vague preconception of religious divides amongst Christian Britons being far more politically charged than back home. This place almost seems too ideal.

OP: They all come here with “The Mother of God in their hearts. That unites them.” I like to consider Walsingham as analogous to Jerusalem. There is a deep mutual respect here. Similar to Lourdes or St. David’s in Wales, this is a “venerable place.” There are no words, just a feeling of peace and blessing. And this is here, in Britain.

Priest’s Wife: For many, if not all, pilgrims, they make “an active decision to come” that’s very personal.
AK: What about the clergy? How do the different denominations interact on a daily basis?

OP: From the perspective of a member of staff, no one seems to think the denominations coming together is an issue. In terms of the clergy, we tend to avoid confrontations and be respectful and polite to one another. We all can agree upon a devotion to the Mother of God. There is no use to exhaustive debates and dialogue; we are fairly set in our respective ways. The use of the “reasoning brain” is pointless in these discourses. When making a controversial point, a clergyman is usually met with a fairly uninterested yet typically diplomatic British response: “Oh how very interesting.”
AK: What about you, personally, as on orthodox priest? What are some of your experiences interacting with other denominations, especially given your super-minority status?

OP: From now until July, most of the Clergy is far too busy to really chat with the other clergy. This is our busiest pilgrimage season. As an Orthodox, we have a very different ethos to the other dominations. As you may or may not know, we have no central authority. We are considered by many to be old-fashioned and conservative. We are “inward looking.” When interacting, especially with Catholic clergy, we realize that these relationships are fairly superficial. There are no harsh words; when there are various people gathered in one room we do not question who is talking. Around England and Europe there can be open conversations about doctrine and faith… not here in Walsingham. Faith is private here. As an Orthodox, there is a strong practical element to this sort of dynamic.
For the most part, priests and the clergy are concerned with their own survival here in England, and in Walsingham. The Orthodox clergy is completely dependent on their own income. It truly is a matter of survival…we do have less money. There is less psychological energy for fruitless things. Here in Walsingham, the Anglicans do all of the work. As you see, the chapel is within the Anglican shrine. They operate and run this place. We came here to do “something simple.” Walsingham has been redeveloped over the past five years. As a child this place was “run down, wild and hidden.” The Orthodox bishop came and blessed this chapel– it’s not really a parish. We were going to build an Orthodox on the grounds over there [points to space outside shrine] but it never happened. Sometimes we get as many people as you saw today, sometimes we get far more. “We never know who is going to come to a mass. We never know what is going to happen.” The local Orthodox who want a parish experience are free to worship at the parish in Great Walsingham.
AK: What about the strange Catholic-esque rituals among the Anglicans? And the much understated Catholic shrine? Forgive me if I’m wrong but it seems a bit inverted.

OP: You cannot divorce this place from England – and from English socioeconomic changes and political atmosphere. The Catholics, as we Orthodox, had to remain modest. There is a “difficult line between modest and discrete. The Orthodox Church actually received many Catholics with “nowhere to go” and no concrete political ties in Britain. Catholics are resurging, but it is not without logical justification that the Catholic shine is simple and plain. Here, the lines are blurred. “England is fluid.”

PW: There is a strong sense of ecumenism here among the pilgrims and but not without underlying tensions. The Anglicans here, as you noticed, are very close to Roman Catholics. The Anglican Church here is not as modern or as liberal as elsewhere in England. [I mentioned here the female priest who had little to no queue at the healing ceremony, whilst the male priests and female nuns were all full] That’s not surprising. Those women are not as home here as they are in the parishes.
At this point, the priest and wife started telling stories that went off into a more theological direction. They bought us tea and scones and were adamant that they paid, regardless of the conversations about having no money and struggling for survival. They were just as interested in us as us them. They relayed a story about a microbiologist friend that the priest knew back in the war – a stout atheist who became an Orthodox priest once reading general readings on Essence and Energy from St. Gregory Palamas. He said that developments in education were a disadvantage – “one’s reasoning brain.” He stressed that the “mind is crazy” and that God only reveals to us what he reveals to us. We cannot know God. For the Orthodox, “orthodox is paradox.”
At this point it was getting late and we needed to go to the well sprinkling. We thanked them enthusiastically and took down their address with every intent of future contact.
PW: Do you leave near to St. Paul’s Cathedral in London?

AK: Yes, I can see it from my office window.

PW: Oh, how lovely. Always thought that was lovely.
I am sending her a postcard.

Short Pilgrimage Write Up

I have to admit I was a bit nervous to go on a “pilgrimage” to Walsingham. I was raised Christian, and would most likely fall into the category of ‘lapsed Catholic.’ The last time I had been in a formal Christian setting was a Christmas mass in Glasgow with a friend’s family and, previous to that, a series of funerals –the focus was never one what was actually occurring in the mass. I found the whole experience a bit overwhelming; as soon as I stepped off the bus I felt ‘sucked in.’ It all had a bit of a theatrical feel, especially the healing services and well sprinkling. Sitting in the healing ceremony I found myself mouthing along to hymns I never knew I could possibly remember, understanding readings that have long since been forgotten, and letting steady tears roll down cheek. I quickly assumed that the tears, I am one for the waterworks, were simply triggered by a sense of nostalgia brought on from being in a setting so closely aligned with some of the best memories of my childhood. It wasn’t until most of the class went to the pub after the ceremony did we all realize that everyone else was also crying, with many of our classmates not having any sort of religious background. Whatever it was that tugged at all of our heartstrings, it brought us together as a group in a matter of minutes. Here we were, fifteen or so young students sitting around in a familiar (pub) setting, yet something was different, something was new. We joked on the bumpy bus ride home, a bus ride that took us an extra hour because of road blocks, wrong turns and other hazards of the city. It was almost fitting to re-enter the secular world of central London to have the welcome be so stiff, disjointed and cold. I cannot explain what I was feeling at Walsingham, but it was fairly evident everyone else felt it too. Whether a show well staged or something more, the experience feels as authentic as any other.