My father is slowly dying. We know that we are going to bury his ashes at the National Cemetery in Portland, OR. My mom has made it clear that she is going to be buried next to him when she dies. My grandparents are buried there, side by side.
From England comes this news of the re-interment of the remains of Cardinal Newman away from his long time "friend," and "roommate" and "intellectual colleague" and, well, you get the drift, Fr. Ambrose St. John. Newman, a convert to Catholicism, whose intellectual strength has spawned the many Newman Centers at many secular and private colleges and universities, was best friends with Fr. Ambrose, a fellow convert to Catholicism. Newman is on his way to sainthood, and there is a suspicion that the powers that be in Rome don't want there to be a whiff of "moral questioning."
So what if they were partners relationally, spiritually, intellectually, and physically? They weren't the first or last of their kinds in Victorian England...just ask Oscar Wilde. As much as my parents and grandparents wanted to be buried by their betrothed, and I with mine, why can't these two simply be left alone?
Of course we all know that this is all about the "love that dares not speak its name."
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Peace, B
1 comment:
Ah but there is a difference, while Newman went to heaven, Wilde on the other hand was condemmed to hell. Still he probably had many more friends there so I do think it probably bothered him.
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