This makes me mad.
We can only guess about the nature of the lifelong friendship between John Henry Cardinal Newman (1801-1890) and Father Ambrose St. John. Maybe it was sexual. Maybe it was not. Maybe it was sexual in its earliest years and chaste after their conversions and ordinations. That is not important. The fact is that the Cardinal specifically requested that he be buried next to his friend. His request was honored. When Ambrose died, the Cardinal wrote
"I have ever thought no bereavement was equal to that of a husband's or a wife's, but I feel it difficult to believe that any can be greater, or any one's sorrow greater, than mine."
The cardinal is currently classified by the Roman Catholic Church as "venerable". This means that he has at least one miracle to his credit, and that there is a "postulator" assigned to advancing his case for sainthood. He needs another miracle to get that process into a higher gear.
That brings us to the current sad situation. The order of priests championing his cause has received permission to have his body moved to another location, supposedly in anticipation of his canonization. That is absolutely ridiculous, and it is disgustingly obvious that the translation of his remains is an effort to obscure the inconvenient fact that he loved Ambrose St. John.
The left half of my head (the faithless half that calculates and demands evidence) says that this is not important. That the two men no longer exist and that this nonsense will be unknown to them. The right half of my brain (the rhyming and singing half that yearns for wings in another dimension where I'll meet Lady Di and Mother Theresa and Fabian who is not yet dead but who is not returning my phone calls in this world) says that splitting up these men is worse than just bad karma. It is cruel. As cruel as would be the splitting up of Alice B. Toklas and Gertrude Stein who are together forever in Pere Lachaise.
What is to be done with these fools who are running this Church onto rocks? I wish I didn't care.
I recommend you read a bit of the Cardinal's The Dream of Gerontius. Elgar set it to music, as did I while I was in Rome. I hear my version is still occasionally performed there. I selected these verses by Newman and wrote it for four unaccompanied voices.
Sanctus fortis sanctus deus
de profundis oro te,
miserere iudex meus,
parce mihi domine.
Newman had close ties to The Tablet a London periodical that accepted and printed the first piece I ever wrote and submitted for publication. I've always wondered if Newman would have approved of what has become of me.
Here's the Cardinal and his boyfriend.