Homily given on 27 September 2025 at Allen Hall Seminary for the 50th anniversary of the seminary's arrival in Chelsea.
In 1968, as some of you may well remember, it was announced that the seminary based in St Edmund’s College had begun actively seeking a new home. (Also in 1968, the Beatles released Hey Jude with its line ‘Take a sad song and make it better!’). The reason given for the move was this: ‘in order to be nearer to the London parishes and universities – essentially a return to Manning’s policy of 1869.’ Not surprisingly, the move was opposed. In 1969, the Westminster Chapter of Canons agreed unanimously that any loss of the Edmundian tradition was unacceptable, and doubts were raised about future priests attending lectures at a secular university. Others were fearful of the noise and health problems that would be faced in the ‘great city.’
Options were considered: St Pelagius in Highgate, the convent in West Hill, the former Calvary Nursing Home in Sudbury Hill, the new buildings in the parish grounds in Bow, or London Colney, shared with the pastoral centre.
On 15 November 1972, a new option emerged and was quickly favoured: the convent in Beaufort Street. It was held to be the best option as it was close enough to the Cathedral to be under the eye of the bishop and situated in the grounds of St Thomas More’s great house, to say nothing of the nearby Bluebird Cafe!
In his Presidential Address on St Edmund’s Day the following year, Bishop Butler answered the critics. He said:
‘The seminary is grasping its new vocation in the Church of Vatican II, a Church which sees the world not as an enemy to be shunned so much as a fellowship of humanity to which we all belong: from which we have much to learn and to which we have to offer the incomparable treasure of the faith of our fathers.’ (Presidential Address on St Edmund’s Day 1973).
So it was that the move was finally completed in 1975, with the help of 650 empty tea chests! One student recorded his own feelings: ‘no more school to squash us into, no more favourite meals of soya beans, meat and beef burgers! No more walks over the country fields, no more quiet country lanes to bike down.’
Nevertheless, two advantages were achieved: the seminarians could enjoy closer contact with London’s parochial and intellectual life, and the St Edmund’s College school was able to expand and flourish.
And so, fifty years ago, Allen Hall came to Chelsea, and here we are to celebrate this anniversary today.
Yet other anniversaries need our attention, too.
A few years ago, we celebrated the 450th anniversary since the English College in Douai opened its doors to the first group of seminarians preparing for their missionary endeavours in England.
On Monday (29 September), it is 175 years since the establishment of this Diocese of Westminster and the restoration of the hierarchy, bishops appointed by the Pope to serve in England and Wales.
It could be said that there is one theme that connects these three anniversaries: the return of England to its older patterns of religious life in the Catholic Church and the role of the priest in this enterprise. Seminary formation, whether taking place in Douai, Hertfordshire, or here, with various models and emphases, has had this challenge in full view, a challenge which has never been easy and continues to test us today.
A remarkable address given here on 5 June by Clare Asquith, Countess of Oxford, and happily reproduced in the latest edition of Vivamus in Spe, gives us a fascinating analysis of the various dimensions of this struggle: in literature and cultural battles, in the economic patterns and greed of the destruction of the Catholic way of life and institutions and, she suggests, in a conflict between intellect and imagination. She roots the project of the return of England in the person and striving of Cardinal Allen, ‘this driven, inspirational, impoverished Lancashire academic.’ She argues powerfully that a crucial dimension in this ‘enterprise of England’ lies in the notion and experience of beauty, ‘the unique selling point for Catholicism’ both then and today. She was more direct, pinpointing ‘the old consensus on the beauty of the sacred rose directly from the doctrine of the Real Presence in the Mass.’ Then she quoted Cardinal Allen, who, in an appeal to beauty and imagination, called the Eucharist ‘the love-knot between Christ and his spouse.’
I repeat this phrase because I hope that everyone will remember it, ponder its meaning, and explore how it reverberates in our hearts and souls. Indeed, I go as far as to say that I am content that you recall not, nor even give heed to, a further word that I say if you would only keep those words of Cardinal Allen ever in your prayer and contemplation. That is surely a sound basis for our lives here in a house dedicated to his name. The Eucharist is the love-knot between Christ and each one of us, between Christ and his Church. In the Eucharist, we are bound to our Blessed Lord in an intimacy that gives us strength, inspiration, and abounding love.
For Cardinal Allen, this was surely at the heart of priestly formation. For our martyrs, it was the key to their love of the Lord for which they suffered and died. For us, as we celebrate this anniversary, it is central to our lives and to our mission.
Words written about the priesthood by Cardinal Manning in 1883 can be understood in this same way, with a focus on the Eucharist as the sign of God’s love and power. He said of the priest: ‘He is encompassed by the signs of God’s love and power… His strong and changeless confidence is a motive to self-oblation in greater things and to self-denial in the less. Hope is the source of joy, and joy is the source of strength. The downcast and timid are weak and inert. The hopeful and confident are energetic and courageous. Fear does not honour our Divine Master. But trust springs from a perception of his love.’ (The Eternal Priesthood pp 114-115). And, I add, as given in the love-knot between Christ and us, his spouse.
This morning, we have heard the words of St Paul reminding us, and all those who have received the call of Christ, that we are not to hold ourselves to be among the powerful, those marked out by noble birth. Rather, we see ourselves as standing among the weak, the low, and the despised, even among ‘the things that are not.’ All of this is to ensure that one quality is to be found consistently within our hearts and in our fellowship: the quality of humility before God. ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.’
In this reading, we have echoes of the life and vocation of St Vincent de Paul. You will know that he set out on his priestly life intent on securing a life of leisure. But the hardships of slavery and the humility of others affected his conversion to a priestly life of humility and service of the poor.
Such humility comes only with the gift of love from another, supremely from Christ himself. He, indeed, is our only boast, for through this very ‘love-knot’ he imbues us with the energy, the faithful endurance, the joy, the desire to give, all that is the essence of our vocation. Such love, of course, gives rise to beauty, for only the best is good enough for my beloved, only the finest that I can create is what I want to lay before my loving Lord, be that in praise, in service, in study, and in the silent companionship of the night and in prayer.
As we celebrate this Mass of thanksgiving, let us do so with great love in our hearts, a love which can inspire us to do all things beautifully for the Lord, who gives himself unstintingly to us, especially in the Eucharist. I end with the revealing words of Robert Southwell from his poem on the Blessed Sacrament[1], quoted by Clare Asquith in her June lecture. They show forth the beauty of the Mass, a beauty which lies at the heart of our mission today.
‘To ravish the eyes, here heavenly beauties are,
To win the ear, sweet music’s sweetest sounds,
To lure the taste of the angels’ heavenly fare,
To soothe the sense, divine perfume abounds,
To please the touch, He in our hearts doth bed,
Whose touch doth cure the deaf, the dumb, the dead.’
The harvest is plentiful, Lord. Send us labourers for your harvest. Amen.
[1] “Of the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar” by Robert Southwell, SJ
Photo: Mazur/cbcew.org.uk