Academic literature on the topic 'Abbey of Our Lady of St'

The following has been adapted from talks given at St Alphege Church, Solihull; Our Lady and St Alphege Church, Bath; and St Joseph’s Church, Peasedown St John, and to the English Catholic History Association, Winchester Catholic History Society and Prinknash Abbey Book Club. Alphege is one of the outstanding saints from these lands, Bath’s greatest son, a gifted monastic leader, a radical bishop of Winchester and a self-sacrificing archbishop of Canterbury. He was to be revered throughout pre-Reformation England and beyond. I will make some general points about Alphege’s world, then set out what we know about the life and death of Alphege and finally suggest why he is important for us today.

This Chronicle opens in 1702, the first year of the long rule of Abbess Mary of the Holy Cross, elected the previous December by 42 votes out of 64. She proved an outstanding superior whose works (printed and MS.) gain her a niche in Gillow's Bibliographical Dictionary, whose life drew a written tribute from Bishop Bonaventure Giffard and whose teachings inspired a book by Alban Butler. After the dissensions of the previous decade she restored spiritual health and harmony to the community and placed it on a more flourishing footing than for many years, receiving to profession thirty-four religious in 25 years (1707–32). Abbess Howard—if that was indeed her surname— entered into association with other religious houses by mutual agreement to participate in good works, prayers and merits: with the Benedictine Abbey of St. Amand at Rouen, whose Abbess was a great friend; with that of Val de Grace in Paris where she herself had lived and been converted; in 1711 with the Carmelites and in 1714 (a renewal of a former association) with the Capuchins. In addition the community's friend and benefactor M. de Tot had in 1703 founded a confraternity in honour of Our Lady and St. Joseph which some of the English nobility joined, including Lady Middleton and Lady Strickland.

After the devastating fire of 1184, the Lady Chapel of Glastonbury Abbey was constructed on the site of the Old Church (Vetusta Ecclesia), the wattle church traditionally associated with Joseph of Arimathea. The lavish decoration of the chapel is frequently mentioned in the literature. In many cases authors emphasize the old-fashioned, Romanesque character of much of the ornament in contrast to the seemingly more progressive contemporary early Gothic mouldings of nearby Wells Cathedral. Nevertheless, it is generally recognized that the designer of Glastonbury Lady Chapel knew of the latest developments in French Gothic architecture as witnessed in his use of crocket capitals and sharply pointed arches in the vault. This juxtaposition of Romanesque and Gothic motifs has led to the categorization of the Lady Chapel as Transitional. Convenient as such a label may be as a term of reference in charting a purely typological evolution, it does little for our understanding of the use of some distinctly different elements in contemporary structures located in the same region. Is it the case that the patron and/or master mason of Glastonbury Lady Chapel are simply more conservative than at Wells Cathedral? Could Glastonbury Lady Chapel be consciously archaizing in an effort to emphasize the antiquity of the site? Should we perhaps think in terms of a traditional Benedictine monastic style at Glastonbury as opposed to an innovative style for the secular canons of Wells? Or is the rich decoration at Glastonbury Lady Chapel to be explained in a more general sense as an imitation of the art of church treasures? To address these questions the first part of this essay will examine the stylistic sources of the Lady Chapel. The meaning of the style of the Lady Chapel in the context of the beginnings of Gothic architecture in Britain will be discussed. Attention will then be turned to the sculpture of the Lady Chapel (Thurlby 1976a).

Sv. Đurađ u Pilama jedna je od najranijih crkava u Dubrovniku na kojoj se nalaze klasični oblici i sustavno provodi njihova kompozicija, što do sada nije zapaženo. Ovaj rad monografski istražuje tu crkvu i valorizira je unutar suvremene dubrovačke arhitekture. Uočene su sličnosti s pročeljima crkava Gospe od Milosrđa, sv. Roka i kapele sv. Jeronima palače Gradić te je diskutirana rana recepcija trakata Sebastiana Serlija.

During the Middle Ages, the cult of St Winifred was the most important of the many Welsh cults centred on wells. Winifred’s story was recounted in two medieval Lives: the Vita prima by Pseudo-Elerius (c. 1100), written from a Welsh perspective, and the Vita secunda by Robert, prior of Shrewsbury, written after the translation of the saint’s supposed relics to his abbey in 1138. According to these, Winifred (fl. c. 650) was educated by St Beuno in North Wales; and, although she had vowed herself to virginity, she inspired the lust of a local prince, Caradog, who, when repulsed, decapitated her. Where her head fell, a spring erupted; and Beuno restored Winifred to life and killed Caradog with a curse. Winifred subsequently became abbess at Gwytherin and, after her death, the spring’s waters were held to cure the sick miraculously. The spring, at Holywell in Flintshire, attracted countless pilgrims in the later Middle Ages, and Henry VII’s mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, encased it in a fine building. At the Reformation, however, the cult of saints was abolished, the Twenty-Second of the Thirty-Nine Articles specifically denouncing their invocation.

Lady Margaret Beaufort (1443–1509), Countess of Richmond and Derby, was one of the most remarkable women of her time. A wealthy heiress, she was married early, and was already widowed at the age of thirteen, shortly before the birth of her son, who was to become King Henry VII. During the Wars of the Roses she learned to survive through political astuteness, though she showed that she was willing to risk all for her son when, during Richard III's reign, she conspired to bring Henry to the throne. Her devotion to Henry, together with her outstanding personal qualities, meant that when he became king in 1485, Lady Margaret remained his most trusted supporter and adviser. Accorded semi-regal status, she administered her vast estates with exemplary efficiency and fairness, showing a concern for individuals which sprang from her own religious humility. She is best known today for her patronage of learning, particularly at Cambridge, where in addition to providing endowments for individual religious scholars, she was the foundress of Christ's and St John's Colleges. In view of Lady Margaret's achievements it seems entirely appropriate, not only that she is buried in Henry VII's Chapel in Westminster Abbey, but also that her epitaph was written by Erasmus and that her splendid gilt bronze tomb-effigy (fig. 1) is the masterpiece of another man of the Renaissance, the Florentine sculptor Pietro Torrigiano.

It would be a truism among Anglo-Saxonists to say that we depend for our knowledge of a fair proportion of pre-Conquest literary and historical texts on the labours of scholars active in the sixteenth, seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. Among the many important texts which were casualties, for example, of the Cotton fire on 23 October 1731, and for which we now depend on early modern transcripts and printed editions, one thinks immediately of Asser's Life of King Alfred and of the poem on the battle of Maldon (in Cotton Otho A. xii), of manuscript G of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (in Cotton Otho B. xi), and of Ealdorman Æthelweard's Chronicle (in Cotton Otho A. x). Should one choose to venture into the realm of Anglo-Saxon charters, the importance of antiquarian transcripts of manuscripts now lost becomes ever more apparent. The most spectacular addition to the corpus of charters made since the publication of Professor Sawyer's catalogue in 1968 arose from the examination of a sixteenth-century cartulary of Ilford Hospital preserved at Hatfield House, which proved to contain the texts of eleven pre-Conquest charters derived ultimately from the archives of Barking abbey in Essex; of course this manuscript is an ‘original’ cartulary, as opposed to an antiquarian transcript, but it serves here as a salutary reminder of the treasures which may lurk as yet unidentified in libraries and archives throughout the country. Other ‘discoveries’ include a seventeenth-century copy of a charter by which King Edgar granted an estate at Ballidon, in Derbyshire, to his thegn Æthelferth, Sir Henry Spelman's extracts from a lost cartulary of Abbotsbury abbey, and notes made by the jurist John Selden from a charter-roll formerly preserved in the archives of St Paul's Cathedral in London.

The article presents parishes and churches: Our Lady of Częstochowa in Drygały, St. Andrzej Bobola in Dubeninki, St. Adalbert in Ełk (cathedral), the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Ełk and St. Rafał Kalinowski in Ełk.

This article situates the mass mariophanies reported at Zeitoun (Cairo), Egypt, from 1968 to 1971 in their historical, political, interfaith, and ecumenical contexts. The series of luminous apparitions above St. Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church were first observed by nearby Muslim public transit workers. Soon after, the site attracted tens of thousands of Christian and Muslim pilgrims, many of whom observed bright light in the form of the Virgin Mary in addition to other manifestations, such as dove-shaped lights hovering above or near the church. Miraculous healings were also reported. The Zeitoun apparitions serve as a unique instance within the broader study of Marian apparitions by providing a non-Catholic example that took place within a Muslim-majority nation over a span of nearly three years. Moreover, full contextualization of the events in Zeitoun requires interdisciplinary attention spanning Middle Eastern, Islamic, and ecumenical studies; as such, the apparitions invite further and fuller examination in the secondary literature.

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The objective of this research is to discuss Traditions and manifestations of popular culture in Goiás, with the object to Our Party Lady D Abbey in Quirinopolis. It aims to understand if it acts as forming a religion rooted in popular practices, and also, if from these practices, there is the identification of the people with the party sufficient to promote the creation of a cultural identity, and understand if there is the production of a memory. Finally understand what the changes taking place, and if they had any influence in relation to religion. In this way our methodological proposal started from the literature search, observation and participation in the party, interviews and images. Therefore observe the Feast of Our Lady D Abadia translates as place of memory, being remembered for generations, appearing not only as a tradition but as an object of his time, part of a cultural identity, so his perpetuating.
O objetivo desta pesquisa é discutir Tradições e Manifestações da cultura popular em Goiás, tendo como objeto a Festa de Nossa Senhora D Abadia em Quirinópolis. Pretende-se entender se a mesma age como formadora de uma religiosidade enraizada nas práticas populares, e também, se a partir destas práticas, há a identificação do povo com a festa, que seja suficiente para promover a criação de uma identidade cultural, e entender se há a produção de uma memória. Por fim perceber quais as mudanças ocorridas, e se estas tiveram alguma influência em relação a religiosidade. Desta forma a nossa proposta metodológica iniciou-se a partir da pesquisa bibliográfica, observação e participação na festa, entrevistas e imagens. Por tanto observamos que a Festa de Nossa Senhora D Abadia traduz-se como lugar de memória, sendo relembrada por gerações, se apresentando não somente como uma tradição e sim como um objeto de seu tempo, parte de uma identidade cultural, por isso sua perpetuação.

Abstract To Hildegard, beloved lady and mother, N., abbess (although unworthy) of the sisters at Neuss. Please accept this trifling prayer and service offered with complete devotion. Because we have no doubt, blessed lady, that you have heard it noised abroad concerning our condition, how we have fallen back into our early state and, alas, abandoned our aspirations, we are all the more earnestly and insistently beseeching your prayers, so that we may be made aware for God’s sake why our erratic spirit has been so burdened that we are buffeted here and there by various impulses and are forced to endure such distress.

Abstract To Hildegard, reverend lady and beloved mother, N., unworthy dean of St. Martin in Mainz church, with a prayer, modest as it is. It is not necessary for me to write how greatly I venerate you, saintly lady, how sincerely I love you, and how prepared I am to serve you if you will but deign to employ our service, such as it is. How I long to be frequently consoled by your writings, because the splendor of divine wisdom, which illuminates you within, reveals these things to you. I had determined once to see you myself and be consoled by your words, but I have been hampered by a bodily affliction, and cannot come at the present time. When an opportunity arises, however, God willing, I will see you, and will ask in person what I cannot ask you in writing.

Abstract To her lady and mother Hildegard, who dwells in the tower of jerusalem, N., abbess (in name only) of the monastery of the holy virgins of the church at Cologne,1 with her most devoted prayer and due service. I cannot express in words how much I rejoice in your blessedness. Although I am physically separated from you, I am all the same bound to you by a deep feeling of love. I long to see you and to unfold to you the grief I bear in my heart, a grief that finds no human consolation, and I desire to regard you, who are full of all love, as my mother. I place all my hope in you, after God, and I desire to be consoled and made joyous by you from this point forward. Therefore, let the tears and sighs of a grieving daughter move you. Be mindful of me and ask God, Who became poor for our sake, to deign to free me from everlasting poverty, and to gather me to the final abode of eternal bliss.

Abstract T., by the grace of God, dean (that is, schoolmaster), though in name only, of the Church of the Holy Apostles at Cologne, joins with all his brothers to offer devoted prayer in the Lord and greetings in the name of true salvation to the lady Hildegard and all those who fight for Christ at Mount St. Rupert. Ever since we learned that you had brought our sister—rather, our beloved daughter—the lady Sigewize, into your order, blessed lady, we, and indeed the entire city of Cologne, have been enkindled to the love of spirituality by the will of God. For this reason everyone throughout our region proclaims, Behold, “the aroma” of the ladies of St. Rupert “is as the smell of a plentiful field, which the Lord hath blessed” [Gen 27.27]. May the Lord bless all of you who, on your modest and humble mount, sing praises to His works of love, which all our lofty mountains and all our broad valleys—I cannot say “have been unable,” but rather “have failed” to celebrate.

Pierre Reverdy was born in Narbonne, France, on 13 September 1889, and died in Solesmes, home of the St Peter’s Abbey, on 17 June 1960. He was the famously understated poet of cubism (‘please God let me not be well-known’, he is said to have prayed), and was associated with the cubist poets Max Jacob and Guillaume Apollinaire, with Juan Gris, and with Picasso. He had a famous, on and off again love affair with Coco Chanel—after which he left, at 37, for the Abbey. A poem of his stands at her grave. The ‘pope of surrealism’, André Breton, called him ‘the greatest poet of our time’.

Abstract In the Middle Ages, Bruges had two collegiate churches. This slightly unusual situation may have been due to the rival claims of the bishops of Tournai and Utrecht: whereas the burg with St Donatian’s was founded under the patronage of Tournai, the territory on which Our Lady’s arose in the eighth century originally belonged to the chapter of Utrecht. Our Lady’s was a parish church as early as 909, and elevated to the status of a collegiate church in 1091 by the bishop of Tournai. According to the legend, the church had been founded by St Boniface in 744; in any case, it later possessed some relics of this saint and of his companions Cyrobaldus and Hilarius, which were gifts of the abbey of Fulda.

As a student undertaking a Longitudinal Integrated Clerkship (LIC)1 based in a GP practice in a rural community in the North of Scotland, I have been lucky to be given responsibility and my own clinic lists. Every day I conduct consultations that change my practice: the challenge of clinically applying the theory I have studied, controlling a consultation and efficiently exploring a patient's problems, empathising with and empowering them to play a part in their own care2 – and most difficult I feel – dealing with the vast amount of uncertainty that medicine, and particularly primary care, presents to both clinician and patient. I initially consulted with a lady in her 60s who attended with her husband, complaining of severe lower back pain who was very difficult to assess due to her pain level. Her husband was understandably concerned about the degree of pain she was in. After assessment and discussion with one of the GPs, we agreed some pain relief and a physio assessment in the next few days would be a practical plan. The patient had one red flag, some leg weakness and numbness, which was her ‘normal’ on account of her multiple sclerosis. At the physio assessment a few days later, the physio felt things were worse and some urgent bloods were ordered, unfortunately finding raised cancer and inflammatory markers. A CT scan of the lung found widespread cancer, a later CT of the head after some developing some acute confusion found brain metastases, and a week and a half after presenting to me, the patient sadly died in hospital. While that was all impactful enough on me, it was the follow-up appointment with the husband who attended on the last triage slot of the evening two weeks later that I found completely altered my understanding of grief and the mourning of a loved one. The husband had asked to speak to a Andrew MacFarlane Year 3 ScotGEM Medical Student 2 doctor just to talk about what had happened to his wife. The GP decided that it would be better if he came into the practice - strictly he probably should have been consulted with over the phone due to coronavirus restrictions - but he was asked what he would prefer and he opted to come in. I sat in on the consultation, I had been helping with any examinations the triage doctor needed and I recognised that this was the husband of the lady I had seen a few weeks earlier. He came in and sat down, head lowered, hands fiddling with the zip on his jacket, trying to find what to say. The GP sat, turned so that they were opposite each other with no desk between them - I was seated off to the side, an onlooker, but acknowledged by the patient with a kind nod when he entered the room. The GP asked gently, “How are you doing?” and roughly 30 seconds passed (a long time in a conversation) before the patient spoke. “I just really miss her…” he whispered with great effort, “I don’t understand how this all happened.” Over the next 45 minutes, he spoke about his wife, how much pain she had been in, the rapid deterioration he witnessed, the cancer being found, and cruelly how she had passed away after he had gone home to get some rest after being by her bedside all day in the hospital. He talked about how they had met, how much he missed her, how empty the house felt without her, and asking himself and us how he was meant to move forward with his life. He had a lot of questions for us, and for himself. Had we missed anything – had he missed anything? The GP really just listened for almost the whole consultation, speaking to him gently, reassuring him that this wasn’t his or anyone’s fault. She stated that this was an awful time for him and that what he was feeling was entirely normal and something we will all universally go through. She emphasised that while it wasn’t helpful at the moment, that things would get better over time.3 He was really glad I was there – having shared a consultation with his wife and I – he thanked me emphatically even though I felt like I hadn’t really helped at all. After some tears, frequent moments of silence and a lot of questions, he left having gotten a lot off his chest. “You just have to listen to people, be there for them as they go through things, and answer their questions as best you can” urged my GP as we discussed the case when the patient left. Almost all family caregivers contact their GP with regards to grief and this consultation really made me realise how important an aspect of my practice it will be in the future.4 It has also made me reflect on the emphasis on undergraduate teaching around ‘breaking bad news’ to patients, but nothing taught about when patients are in the process of grieving further down the line.5 The skill Andrew MacFarlane Year 3 ScotGEM Medical Student 3 required to manage a grieving patient is not one limited to general practice. Patients may grieve the loss of function from acute trauma through to chronic illness in all specialties of medicine - in addition to ‘traditional’ grief from loss of family or friends.6 There wasn’t anything ‘medical’ in the consultation, but I came away from it with a real sense of purpose as to why this career is such a privilege. We look after patients so they can spend as much quality time as they are given with their loved ones, and their loved ones are the ones we care for after they are gone. We as doctors are the constant, and we have to meet patients with compassion at their most difficult times – because it is as much a part of the job as the knowledge and the science – and it is the part of us that patients will remember long after they leave our clinic room. Word Count: 993 words References 1. ScotGEM MBChB - Subjects - University of St Andrews [Internet]. [cited 2021 Mar 27]. Available from: https://www.st-andrews.ac.uk/subjects/medicine/scotgem-mbchb/ 2. Shared decision making in realistic medicine: what works - gov.scot [Internet]. [cited 2021 Mar 27]. Available from: https://www.gov.scot/publications/works-support-promote-shared-decisionmaking-synthesis-recent-evidence/pages/1/ 3. Ghesquiere AR, Patel SR, Kaplan DB, Bruce ML. Primary care providers’ bereavement care practices: Recommendations for research directions. Int J Geriatr Psychiatry. 2014 Dec;29(12):1221–9. 4. Nielsen MK, Christensen K, Neergaard MA, Bidstrup PE, Guldin M-B. Grief symptoms and primary care use: a prospective study of family caregivers. BJGP Open [Internet]. 2020 Aug 1 [cited 2021 Mar 27];4(3). Available from: https://bjgpopen.org/content/4/3/bjgpopen20X101063 5. O’Connor M, Breen LJ. General Practitioners’ experiences of bereavement care and their educational support needs: a qualitative study. BMC Medical Education. 2014 Mar 27;14(1):59. 6. Sikstrom L, Saikaly R, Ferguson G, Mosher PJ, Bonato S, Soklaridis S. Being there: A scoping review of grief support training in medical education. PLOS ONE. 2019 Nov 27;14(11):e0224325.