Papal Mass - Cofton Park, Birmingham

At 4.45 am on September 19th, little groups of sleepy people, laden with folding chairs, blankets and thermos flasks, might have been seen gathering outside St Nicholas church in Lawford’s Gate. Pilgrims from St Mary’s, St Nick’s and Christ the King, we were about to set off to the Papal Mass in Birmingham. Soon the coach arrived, and we joined those from Holy Cross who were already on board. A short prayer from Father Richard, and we were off.

No doubt each pilgrim had their own reasons for making the journey. I wanted to be present for the beatification of Cardinal Newman, having admired him for many years – ever since, as a student at Oxford, I attended Mass in the Newman Rooms. But I also wanted to help demonstrate that, despite the media’s hostile attitude to the Church in general and the Pope in particular, ordinary Catholics are still prepared to stand up and be counted. We reached Cofton Park in the dawn and the drizzle, and joined the enormous throng filing through the security checks, pitching chairs and rugs on the wide grassy slopes, and waiting patiently, huddled into anoraks and under umbrellas.

Miraculously, as the Pope arrived and the Mass began, the rain stopped and the sun appeared. It was a lovely Mass – it felt, not like a grand ceremonial occasion, but like an ordinary Sunday Mass which just happened to be attended by thousands of people and celebrated by the leader of our Church on earth. The beatification was solemn yet surprisingly simple; we sang familiar hymns, heard bidding prayers in a variety of the languages spoken by British Catholics, and heard the Holy Father speak of his pleasure at being among us. The Mass ended, the Pope left us to go and make a private visit to Newman’s Oratory, and in true British fashion everyone got out their picnic lunch – spread out over the grass in the sunshine, we resembled a modern version of the feeding of the 5000!

So what will I remember from the day? The amazing variety of my fellow British Catholics – men, women and children, originating from many different countries and speaking with many different accents, yet all united in faith and in love for their Church. The spirit of happiness which seemed to possess everyone – even the policemen lining the route to the park were relaxed and cheerful, despite the rain. The way huge yellow-and-white striped umbrellas sprang up among the crowd when it was time for Communion, marking the place where a priest stood with the Blessed Sacrament. And the moving sight, after it was all over, of the coaches leaving to carry pilgrims back on their long journeys to their homes in every corner of the country. Let us pray that we all bring the grace of this wonderful occasion back into our parishes and our everyday lives.

Blessed John Henry Newman, pray for us.

Clare Griffel

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