Bright lights don’t have to be big lights. Have a look at the Blessed John Henry Newman Fellowship in Victoria, BC. The Fellowship describes itself as “an Anglican Use Group within the Roman Catholic Diocese of Victoria, BC seeking to move to the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of Saint Peter under Anglicanorum Coetibus.” It was created in December 2011 and its members were received into the Roman Catholic Church at St. Andrew’s Cathedral, Victoria on Sunday, April 15th 2012.

On the home page of their website, there is a simple note which says, “Lay Administrator: Peter Wilkinson.” Unless one already knows, there is no hint that this refers to the venerable former metropolitan of the Anglican Catholic Church of Canada, Bishop Peter Wilkinson – truly, one of the godliest men I have met. He is one of the TAC bishops who followed through on his word by bringing as many of his people as possible into full communion with the Holy See, and he now awaits the decision which will determine if he will be able to carry on a priestly ministry in the Catholic Church.

The membership of the Blessed John Henry Newman Fellowship is not large, but a quick look around their website shows their commitment to the fullness of the Catholic Faith, including taking an active part in pro-life activities and having a zeal for the cause of Christian Unity as it is envisioned by the Holy Father.

The members of the Fellowship are able to carry on a Catholic sacramental life through the generosity of Bishop Richard Gagnon of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Victoria, who has assigned Father John Laszczyk to see to their pastoral care for the time being. Fr. Laszczyk celebrates a Sung Anglican Use Mass on Sundays at 12:30 PM at St. Jean Baptiste Roman Catholic Church, 311 Richmond Ave., Victoria, BC V8S 3Y2.

The website of the Fellowship is here. Their Facebook page is here. Take a look, and keep them in your prayers.

Via Fr. Stephen Smuts, who gave a hat tip to Steve Cavanaugh's Anglican Use of The Roman Rite blog, we find that Rocco Palmo  has written a detailed piece about the Ordinariates at Whispers in the Loggia:

Here is an excerpt.

* * *

Four months since its establishment by Rome, the Stateside Ordinariate for Anglican groups entering Catholic communion is coming off a banner week, the first of many soon to come.

On Saturday, two top-tier American prelates each ordained a former Episcopal priest to the transitional diaconate, bringing the Chair of St Peter's officially on-deck group of priests-in-waiting to three. The once-and-future Fathers Jason Catania and David Ousley respectively lead the freshly received communities in Baltimore and Philadelphia, the latter of which completed its journey during Holy Week.

Another onetime Anglican priest, now Deacon Jon David Chalmers became the Ordinariate's first cleric during the Easter Octave in South Carolina, and will be ordained a Catholic priest on June 3rd. Last Tuesday, meanwhile, the circumscription that covers all entering Anglican groups in North America likewise incardinated its first priest – Fr Eric Bergman, a married father of seven ordained for the diocese of Scranton in 2007 — as well as completing the purchase of a church for his community, which had been sharing space with a local parish.

Beyond the trickle of founding clerics, some 60 candidates for orders have been cleared for the pipeline over the last several months, half of them said to be preparing for imminent ordination to diaconate and priesthood. Among them, late this month brings what'll likely be the largest single ordination rite as — in the region long known as the cradle of American Anglo-Catholicism — Bishop Kevin Vann of Fort Worth makes Catholic deacons of six former Anglican clerics.

Including the unprecedented priesting of a father and son together, the sextet will be ordained on June 30th, and one of the men has already been named the next pastor of the Ordinariate's "principal church" (effectively its cathedral), Houston's Our Lady of Walsingham parish, effective July 1.

Upon their approval for orders by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, all the candidates have taken part in a rapid-formation course, mostly conducted online from Houston's St Mary's Seminary and University of St Thomas.

Reflecting the rise of the Southern church and Texas' longtime status as the dominant venue of the Anglican communities which have journeyed to Rome on these shores, the Ordinariate is American Catholicism's first national entity to be based outside the traditional centers of ecclesial influence in the Northeast and upper Midwest.

* * *

There's a lot more.

St. Isidore the Farmer, born into a poor but devotedly Catholic family, wouldn’t have appeared to be destined for much in life. His parents had high hopes for him, so it would seem. They named him after the great bishop of Seville, St. Isidore, but that was about all they could give him. As soon as he was old enough to labour in the fields, he was sent off to work. And there he stayed. The boy became a young man who fell in love with an equally devout young woman, Maria. They married, they had a child. They knew immense sorrow when their child died, but they never waivered in their faith.

Isidore attended Mass daily, always before he went to the fields to work. His devotion sometimes caused him to arrive late for his duties, but he always accomplished as much or more than the other workers. Out of jealousy the others reported his daily lateness to the employer, who decided to keep an eye on Isidore. It became evident that Isidore was toiling faithfully and steadily, and as a sign from God of the goodness and honesty of Isidore, the employer saw the image of an angel working beside him.

I love this saint. As little as he had, he was always generous towards others, always willing to share his meager meal with anyone who had less. His love for God formed the foundation of his work. The manual labor which occupied all his years was dignified by his devotion.

All the saints are interesting, although some of them probably would have been difficult to have been around. But this one… this is a saint I would have liked to have known. Maybe it’s because I grew up working on the family farm, and I know the satisfaction that comes from honest labor on the soil. Maybe it’s my own childhood memories of having a team of oxen as St. Isidore did. Maybe it’s my recollection of feeling an especially close bond to the Divine when working the land. But whatever the cause, I love this saint.

Even after thirty years as a Catholic, I still think of the Feast of St. Matthias as falling on February 24th, but we kept it with great solemnity today, with plenty of incense, a young men’s schola chanting the minor propers, and all the patrimonial bells (no whistles, however). Actually, I think the change in date was a good thing. Unless Ash Wednesday came especially late, St. Matthias' Day often fell within the Lenten season, but having it on May 14th means it’s closer to the time of the ascension – and historically it was soon after that event that the “casting of lots” took place. So I’ve adjusted myself to the kalendar.

St. Matthias had been a follower of Jesus and was probably one of the seventy-two disciples. After our Lord’s ascension into heaven, the nascent Church was gathered in prayer and St. Peter said that it was right to choose an apostle to replace Judas. He said it should be someone who had been with Jesus from the time of His baptism in the Jordan until the ascension. Two names were proposed: one was Matthias, and the other was Joseph, called Barsabbas (who was also called Justus). Both of them were good men, but since the Church needed only one, they prayed and asked God to reveal the right choice. This is where the “casting of lots” came in. Sometimes people have the mistaken notion that this was akin to gambling, or some kind of game of chance, and there are those who think perhaps it wasn’t the most appropriate means of determining God’s Will in the matter.

Actually, casting lots was a fairly common way of making a decision. When we look back through Scripture, we come across it pretty often. It was the method used to choose the scapegoat (Leviticus 16:8); it was used to determine the priests’ duties in the temple (I Chronicles 24:5); during the terrible storm at sea, poor Jonah was determined to be the guilty one by the casting of lots (Jonah 1:7). For us, it has the unsavoury connection with the crucifixion, since it was by casting lots that the soldiers divided our Lord’s clothing (St. Matthew 27:35). In the case of choosing a replacement for Judas, it was settled in this way because of the very fact that both candidates were equally good.

Casting lots was done in different ways, but a common way of doing it was to put the necessary number of polished stones of different colour in a container, and to shake it until one stone fell out, determining the choice. Whatever we might think of the method, it certainly worked. St. Matthias proved to be such a good apostle that after spreading the Gospel in Cappadocia (modern-day Turkey), Egypt and Ethiopia, he was so successful he ended up being martyred (probably stoned) for his efforts.

There are plenty of things we can get out of the account of the choosing of Matthias, but I like the thought that the dignity of apostleship seemed to hang by the thread of chance – and yet it wasn’t really chance, was it? God had His plan all worked out, and Peter (along with the others) knew that. They could have pushed their own human will and thoughts into the situation: (“Hey, that Joseph Barsabbas is a really nice guy. Let’s choose him!”). In fact, the very fact that Christ’s own choice for that particular seat in the College of Apostles didn’t work out – at least by human standards – shows that God is very much in control of every detail. I mean, would we have planned things that way? The betrayal by Judas that led to the sacrifice which has atoned for man’s sin wouldn’t have been at the top of my list for a good plan. Finding an apostolic replacement by shaking some stones in a container isn’t something I would have thought of.

It seems like we’re rarely prepared for the twists and turns which define God’s plan, and yet – that’s the way He works. Why are we surprised when things don’t follow the meticulous plan we’ve worked out in our own minds? After all, even our Lord Jesus Christ Himself prayed in Gethsemane, “Nevertheless, not My Will, but Thine be done.” And isn’t it our universal experience that, in the end, God’s plan is always best? Quite so.

Here's an excerpt from a story from The Age (with my emphases):

Conference secretary Father Brian Lucas said last night the church expected about 500 Anglicans to convert, some from the dissident Traditional Anglican Communion, which broke away years ago after the Australian Anglican Church allowed women to be priests, and some mainstream Anglicans with a Catholic inclination.

He said he expected there would be two parishes in Melbourne, two in Sydney, one in Brisbane and one in Perth. The Pope had not yet appointed a bishop.

"This will be announced on June 15. But there are people needing to make a decision about their life, particularly Anglican clergy, and now they can make their plans with confidence in the next step in their journey," Father Lucas said.

Read the rest here.

I'm surprised it is as high as 500.  I would bet when all is said and done, the numbers will be more similar to those in Canada, which will initially add up to what, about 300, when all the groups are received.

From the Book of Divine Worship:

I. Almighty God, Lord of heaven and earth: We humbly pray that thy gracious providence may give and preserve to our use the harvests of the land and of the seas, and may prosper all who labor to gather them, that we, who constantly receive good things from thy hand, may always give thee thanks; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

II. Almighty God, whose Son Jesus Christ in his earthly life shared our toil and hallowed our labor: Be present with thy people where they work; make those who carry on the industries and commerce of this land responsive to thy will; and give to us all a pride in what we do, and a just return for our labor; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

III. O merciful Creator, whose hand is open wide to satisfy the needs of every living creature: Make us, we beseech thee, ever thankful for thy loving providence; and grant that we, remembering the account that we must one day give, may be faithful stewards of thy bounty; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Urquhart Castle on the Shore of Loch Ness

The first recorded words spoken to the Loch Ness Monster, by St. Columba in the VI century:

…"Thou shalt go no further, nor touch the man; go back with all speed." Then at the voice of the saint, the monster was terrified, and fled more quickly than if it had been pulled back with ropes…

Now there's some Dark Age Patrimony for you…

Fr. James Bradley sends:

I have taken heat from some quarters for even having a link on The Anglo-Catholic to the web site of the United States District of the Priestly Society of Saint Pius X.

<wink>I wonder what these same folks will say in a few weeks' time? </wink>

[But it's not a done deal yet.  Go here and pray the novena for Bishop Fellay and the Holy Father.  If you do one pious thing today, do this!]

I have noticed that many Anglo-Catholics have been taught to cross themselves at the elevations accompanying the double Consecration of the Host and the Chalice during the Canon of the Mass.  I also have noticed that most traditional Roman Catholics do not make such a reverence at this point (they do almost universally, of course, exclaim "My Lord and My God!").  Can any of our readers elaborate on this pious custom?

Additionally, I have noted that Anglicans tend to cross themselves both immediately before and after receiving Holy Communion, and I have seen most traditional Roman Catholics only cross themselves after having communicated.