AN221: Anthropology of Christianity
Alexandra Kane
Dr. Fenella Cannell
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nature of an Orthodox presence was superseded by the, then, far more interesting question I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.