.
The new Motu Proprio wasn't the one everybody was expecting: so much the better, as the Pope is well within his rights to make us wait.
I wonder if this one might, in the great scheme of things, be rather more important.
The succession has been skewed, and probably traditionwards.
27 June 2007
25 June 2007
Floods and rumination
.
We live high up so last night's rains and this morning floods did little more than cause a twenty minute drive to turn into a ninety minute obstacle course to get child to school and us to work.
It gave me time to ponder on Fr Dwight's posting on why anybody would want to go to Mass celebrated in the traditional rite.
His are good questions, and well put: why would people want to go to a Mass where they couldn't see what the priest was doing or hear what he was saying? How, to cap it all, is Mass better when it is in a language that nobody understands that Jesus and his disciples never spoke? There has been a good preliminary answer from the NLM, but time spent waiting in traffic, once my helpful advice to my wife had been treated with the scorn it no doubt deserved, made me think about the radical change in Catholic praxis since the Novus Ordo was made normative.
Why should the priest's actions be visible?
Why should the priest's words be heard?
Why should the participation of the laity be audible?
Why should the laity have to do physical things in unison to be thought to be participating?
Why would anyone think that Latin was not the appropriate language for the Roman Rite?
These are not questions which occurred to anybody - well, to anybody except for heretics - until the second half of the twentieth century. Sacrifice and Immolation demanded behaviour and language from the Priest, and from those privileged to witness what he was doing, appropriate to the actions he was to perform.
I don't want to criticise Fr Dwight for asking the questions: they are the questions my children ask me when I insist on the superiority of the Classical Rite. They are the questions that anybody who has been brought up in the Church since Vatican II feels are right to be asked.
I wonder what happened that anybody feels that it is normal that such questions can be asked.
We live high up so last night's rains and this morning floods did little more than cause a twenty minute drive to turn into a ninety minute obstacle course to get child to school and us to work.
It gave me time to ponder on Fr Dwight's posting on why anybody would want to go to Mass celebrated in the traditional rite.
His are good questions, and well put: why would people want to go to a Mass where they couldn't see what the priest was doing or hear what he was saying? How, to cap it all, is Mass better when it is in a language that nobody understands that Jesus and his disciples never spoke? There has been a good preliminary answer from the NLM, but time spent waiting in traffic, once my helpful advice to my wife had been treated with the scorn it no doubt deserved, made me think about the radical change in Catholic praxis since the Novus Ordo was made normative.
Why should the priest's actions be visible?
Why should the priest's words be heard?
Why should the participation of the laity be audible?
Why should the laity have to do physical things in unison to be thought to be participating?
Why would anyone think that Latin was not the appropriate language for the Roman Rite?
These are not questions which occurred to anybody - well, to anybody except for heretics - until the second half of the twentieth century. Sacrifice and Immolation demanded behaviour and language from the Priest, and from those privileged to witness what he was doing, appropriate to the actions he was to perform.
I don't want to criticise Fr Dwight for asking the questions: they are the questions my children ask me when I insist on the superiority of the Classical Rite. They are the questions that anybody who has been brought up in the Church since Vatican II feels are right to be asked.
I wonder what happened that anybody feels that it is normal that such questions can be asked.
23 June 2007
The PM at the Vatican
According to the Vatican Press Office, the 10 years of the Prime Minister's period of office were considered. There was a frank exchange about the current international situation, and a discussion about certain laws passed recently in the United Kingdom, before the Pope's good wishes were passed to the Prime Minister for his clear intent to work for peace in the Middle East and interreligious dialogue.
According to Ttony, this means that the PM hasn't had the seal of approval. Tony Blair is not the Vatican's representative for either peace in the Middle East or interreligious dialogue.
A bottle is being opened.
According to Ttony, this means that the PM hasn't had the seal of approval. Tony Blair is not the Vatican's representative for either peace in the Middle East or interreligious dialogue.
A bottle is being opened.
21 June 2007
What are friends for?
Most of my friends are people who can chide me, however obliquely, and make me stop and think.
Most of the time, I have the mind and intellect of a butterfly, and flit from flower to flower, drinking a bit of nectar here and there, enjoying the sun and spreading my wings, and I go with the currents of the wind, true to my type.
Most of my friends tolerate this: I can bring all sorts of new things to their attention; I can be their "Carian Guest"; my nightingales entertain.
Most of the time, I feel (to change the metaphor) a bit like Mole: I am let loose in the world and discover all manner of things and want to enjoy them and exult in them.
Most of my friends are like Badger.
Every now and then, one of my friends brings me back down to earth (sorry about the multiplication of metaphors) with a severe bump. Today was Moretben's turn.
What will the Motu Proprio achieve in England and Wales? It will (we assume) allow a more tolerant attitude to the celebration of Mass in the style in which it was always celebrated. And ...
... there's the rub. What else will change? The Catholic Church in England and Wales as is plus a few more celebrations of the Tridentine Mass, is not going to amount to anything more than the CCin E&W as is plus a thing less to moan about.
I write in a week where Catholic priests have led a protest at Westminster Cathedral about a shameful sacrilegeous desecration of a Holy place. (The last time priests did things analogous to that in Westminster was 450 years ago.) What difference will a mere Motu Proprio make? Will the Hierarchy in whose name the Cardinal is alleged to have written to the Holy Father protesting about the forthcoming document suddenly change its spots? Are the rumours about the Hierarchy "dining the Prime Minister out" at the English College just that: rumours?
In fact, just imagine the sort of place we have become when priests lead protests outside our Mother Church. What a scandalously awful place we have been led to!
Most of the time, I have the mind and intellect of a butterfly, and flit from flower to flower, drinking a bit of nectar here and there, enjoying the sun and spreading my wings, and I go with the currents of the wind, true to my type.
Most of my friends tolerate this: I can bring all sorts of new things to their attention; I can be their "Carian Guest"; my nightingales entertain.
Most of the time, I feel (to change the metaphor) a bit like Mole: I am let loose in the world and discover all manner of things and want to enjoy them and exult in them.
Most of my friends are like Badger.
Every now and then, one of my friends brings me back down to earth (sorry about the multiplication of metaphors) with a severe bump. Today was Moretben's turn.
What will the Motu Proprio achieve in England and Wales? It will (we assume) allow a more tolerant attitude to the celebration of Mass in the style in which it was always celebrated. And ...
... there's the rub. What else will change? The Catholic Church in England and Wales as is plus a few more celebrations of the Tridentine Mass, is not going to amount to anything more than the CCin E&W as is plus a thing less to moan about.
I write in a week where Catholic priests have led a protest at Westminster Cathedral about a shameful sacrilegeous desecration of a Holy place. (The last time priests did things analogous to that in Westminster was 450 years ago.) What difference will a mere Motu Proprio make? Will the Hierarchy in whose name the Cardinal is alleged to have written to the Holy Father protesting about the forthcoming document suddenly change its spots? Are the rumours about the Hierarchy "dining the Prime Minister out" at the English College just that: rumours?
In fact, just imagine the sort of place we have become when priests lead protests outside our Mother Church. What a scandalously awful place we have been led to!
18 June 2007
From a GCSE Syllabus
The WhiteStone Name Seeker blogged about RE A Level. Here is a bit of better news from GCSE-land, specifically AQA Specification A Catholic Christianity. These are a few bullets from the revision book, which I hope to be allowed to copy without permission:
The Mass is important to Catholics because
The Mass is important to Catholics because
- it is a way of making their lives good again after sins;
- it is the way of gaining the power to fulfil God's will in their daily lives;
- it is an obligation to attend Mass on Sunday to fulfil the commandment to keep the Sabbath holy;
- it is a means of uniting them with Christ and other Catholics;
- it is the Catholic way of nourishing Christians through the Body and Blood of Jesus;
- it is a sacrament of love from God to Christians through the sacrifice of Jesus.
Not quite as many capital letters as I would have liked, and a bit on the thin side, but Catholic none the less.
The revision practices are great; for example: Give reasons why the Church is One, is Holy, is Catholic, is Apostolic. The author was a bit un-PC when he contrasts regularly Catholic, Orthodox and Christian, but we know what he means: when he says Christian he means Protestant.
Within the sort of framework which will creep past a diocesan education committee, here is an opportunity to teach the Catechism.
Of course things could be better: a lot, lot, better; but things could be a lot worse too.
16 June 2007
Being a fool for Christ's sake
Fr Michael Seed is not like most priests in England and Wales today. This is mainly because he appears in the broadsheets a lot: he is caricatured as priest to the great and good: he says Mass for the Prime Minister's family in Downing St; he has instructed several high profile converts. He also does a lot of work with down-and-outs, but that gets little publicity. To describe his childhood as "abused" is to airbrush a traumatic story: just enter "Nobody's Child" into the search field at amazon.co.uk and read the synopsis.
Fr Seed is reported in today's Telegraph as having seriously angered the Cardinal. Fr Seed has apparently used his contacts to raise the £2M needed to fund each of four Academies (each prospective Academy has to raise £2M if the Government is to provide the rest of the funding). According to the paper:
'The Daily Telegraph has learnt that Fr Seed's connection to the academies project has caused concern at the most senior levels of the Roman Catholic Church, with Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor privately expressing "deep unease".
The Cardinal is unhappy that Fr Seed should have been seen to be involved in helping a project so closely associated with the Prime Minister. The Cardinal has told senior bishops that he feared the introduction could be seen as blurring the boundaries between the Church and party politics. Neither the Cardinal nor Fr Seed would comment last night.'
If anybody manages to question the Cardinal on this subject, it would be interesting to know how he thinks Catholic, and joint Catholic-Anglican, Academies have raised, or are raising, their £2M, and whether he thinks that establishing these new schools is wrong because they blur the boundary between the Church and party politics, especially when Blair, Brown, and Cameron are all massively in favour of them.
Somebody who risks (and often gains) obloquy to bring people to the Church, and tries to persuade the rich to part with their money to benefit the poor - in particular the children of the poor - might not be doing much to further CAFOD's agenda, but seems to me to be doing quite a lot to further Our Lord's.
Fr Seed is reported in today's Telegraph as having seriously angered the Cardinal. Fr Seed has apparently used his contacts to raise the £2M needed to fund each of four Academies (each prospective Academy has to raise £2M if the Government is to provide the rest of the funding). According to the paper:
'The Daily Telegraph has learnt that Fr Seed's connection to the academies project has caused concern at the most senior levels of the Roman Catholic Church, with Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor privately expressing "deep unease".
The Cardinal is unhappy that Fr Seed should have been seen to be involved in helping a project so closely associated with the Prime Minister. The Cardinal has told senior bishops that he feared the introduction could be seen as blurring the boundaries between the Church and party politics. Neither the Cardinal nor Fr Seed would comment last night.'
If anybody manages to question the Cardinal on this subject, it would be interesting to know how he thinks Catholic, and joint Catholic-Anglican, Academies have raised, or are raising, their £2M, and whether he thinks that establishing these new schools is wrong because they blur the boundary between the Church and party politics, especially when Blair, Brown, and Cameron are all massively in favour of them.
Somebody who risks (and often gains) obloquy to bring people to the Church, and tries to persuade the rich to part with their money to benefit the poor - in particular the children of the poor - might not be doing much to further CAFOD's agenda, but seems to me to be doing quite a lot to further Our Lord's.
14 June 2007
The In-trays of the Vatican
Rafael Castela Santos recommended a new site (in Spanish) maintained by some priests of the Barcelona Diocese. A posting called "PROMOVEATUR UT REMOVEATUR" (Promote Them to Remove Them) discusses various questions of Catalonian episcopal politics and contains a delightful paragraph which I hope they don't mind me translating (fairly freely) here.
"There are three in-trays on the desks of each of the Roman Congregations into which the different subjects to be decided are placed in order of priority. One is for questions which need to be resolved rapidly because of the urgency of the matter under discussion. The next is for questions which need to studied carefully and in collaboration with other Dicasteries, and whose resolution, therefore, will take a prudential amount of time to settle. The third is the one into which are put those problems which Time alone will solve."
They declare that the Archdiocese of Barcelona couldn't possibly belong to the third in-tray. I wonder which the question of the Church in England and Wales, and the Westminster succession might belong in.
"There are three in-trays on the desks of each of the Roman Congregations into which the different subjects to be decided are placed in order of priority. One is for questions which need to be resolved rapidly because of the urgency of the matter under discussion. The next is for questions which need to studied carefully and in collaboration with other Dicasteries, and whose resolution, therefore, will take a prudential amount of time to settle. The third is the one into which are put those problems which Time alone will solve."
They declare that the Archdiocese of Barcelona couldn't possibly belong to the third in-tray. I wonder which the question of the Church in England and Wales, and the Westminster succession might belong in.
13 June 2007
Sonnet for the Madonna of the Cherries
Somebody recently - as far as I can tell not Jeffrey nor Idle Speculations, who would be my usual suspects for this sort of thing - posted a picture of Our Lady with the wrong fruit. It had been nagging away at me for some days when I realised where I had come across it before: in a poem.
In "Other Mens' Flowers", the great anthology of poetry published by Field Marshal Lord Wavell in 1944, there is a single poem by the author. He recounts the story of how Flemish Masters who visited Italy in the early 16th Century were shown a copy of a cartoon by Leonardo and were asked to paint it, no doubt so the Milanese artists could see whether thay had anything to learn from their Northern brethren. Twelve were painted. One was eventually owned by Captain Spencer-Churchill MC, a friend of Lord Wavell's, who visited it in April 1943 at Northwick Park. (Anybody who has access to JSTOR might be able to see a photo: I can't.)
Dear Lady of the Cherries, cool, serene,
Untroubled by our follies, strife and fears,
Clad in soft reds and blues and mantle green,
Your memory has been with me all these years.
Long years of battle, bitterness and waste,
Dry years of sun and dust and Eastern skies,
Hard years of ceaseless struggle, endless haste,
Fighting 'gainst greed for power and hate and lies.
Your red-gold hair, your slowly smiling face
For pride in your dear son, your King of Kings,
Fruits of the kindly earth, and truth and grace,
Colour and light, and all warm lovely things -
For all that loveliness, that warmth, that light,
Blessed madonna, I go back to fight.
Firld Marshal the Earl Wavell PC GCB GCSI GCIE CMG MC
Not, perhaps, great poetry, but a wonderful spontaneous response to a picture. As it happens, he didn't go back to fight: on his return to London he was ordered to India as Viceroy, the penultimate Viceroy as it turned out.
And here's a thing: a Chief of the Defence Staff (we don't have Field Marshals any more) once saw a copy of "Other Mens' Flowers" on my desk at work and told me he had a copy which always accompanied him on his travels.
I like to think of soldiers who read poetry.
In "Other Mens' Flowers", the great anthology of poetry published by Field Marshal Lord Wavell in 1944, there is a single poem by the author. He recounts the story of how Flemish Masters who visited Italy in the early 16th Century were shown a copy of a cartoon by Leonardo and were asked to paint it, no doubt so the Milanese artists could see whether thay had anything to learn from their Northern brethren. Twelve were painted. One was eventually owned by Captain Spencer-Churchill MC, a friend of Lord Wavell's, who visited it in April 1943 at Northwick Park. (Anybody who has access to JSTOR might be able to see a photo: I can't.)
Dear Lady of the Cherries, cool, serene,
Untroubled by our follies, strife and fears,
Clad in soft reds and blues and mantle green,
Your memory has been with me all these years.
Long years of battle, bitterness and waste,
Dry years of sun and dust and Eastern skies,
Hard years of ceaseless struggle, endless haste,
Fighting 'gainst greed for power and hate and lies.
Your red-gold hair, your slowly smiling face
For pride in your dear son, your King of Kings,
Fruits of the kindly earth, and truth and grace,
Colour and light, and all warm lovely things -
For all that loveliness, that warmth, that light,
Blessed madonna, I go back to fight.
Firld Marshal the Earl Wavell PC GCB GCSI GCIE CMG MC
Not, perhaps, great poetry, but a wonderful spontaneous response to a picture. As it happens, he didn't go back to fight: on his return to London he was ordered to India as Viceroy, the penultimate Viceroy as it turned out.
And here's a thing: a Chief of the Defence Staff (we don't have Field Marshals any more) once saw a copy of "Other Mens' Flowers" on my desk at work and told me he had a copy which always accompanied him on his travels.
I like to think of soldiers who read poetry.
12 June 2007
Which Theologian Are You?
Courtesy of Fr Tim, I found an interesting quiz: which theologian are you? I'm a bit worried that the Karl Barth and Scleiermacher scores are on the high side.
You scored as Anselm, Anselm is the outstanding theologian of the medieval period.He sees man's primary problem as having failed to render unto God what we owe him, so God becomes man in Christ and gives God what he is due. You should read 'Cur Deus Homo?'
Which theologian are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
Irony
Am I the only person to think it somehat ironic that the CofE should be complaining that a violent video game "desecrates" Manchester Cathedral? Wasn't there a little unpleasantness 450 years ago?
10 June 2007
The Westminster Stakes
Betting is in abeyance. A few shrewd people persuaded Paddy Power to open a book on the succession to Cardinal Murphy O'Connor last autumn and managed to get their money on. However, nothing has changed at all in 2007, as those who want to place a bet wait for the official announcement that the Cardinal's resignation has (or has not) been accepted, and that announcement won't come before HE's 75th birthday in August.
In principle, the Apostolic Nuncio is the person charged with taking soundings, and advising Rome on who should be nominated for Westminster once the See is declared vacant. Realising that I knew little about Archbishop Sainz Muñoz (other than that he is "always welcome" at Eccleston Square) I asked a leading Spanish journalist, who specialises in ecclesiastical affairs, for an indication of which way the Nuncio's advice might go, and how it might be received. The answer was interesting (I have cut out a sentence which reflects on the leadership of the Church in England and Wales):
"Yo creo que el arzobispo de Westminster no lo decide el nuncio. Esos cargos tan importantes se deciden en Roma. Y supongo que el Papa ya tiene claro quien va a ser el sucesor de Murphy O'Connor que efectivamente en agosto cumple los setenta y cinco años. (...)
Efectivamente es un hombre de Casaroli. Pero como le digo no creo vaya a ser la persona decisiva para nombrar al nuevo arzobispo de Westminster."
"The Archbishop of Westminster is not chosen by the Nuncio. Posts as important as this are settled in Rome. And I imagine that the Pope is already clear about who Murphy O'Connor's successor will be once, in August, he has his 75th birthday. (...)
He (Sainz Muñoz) is basically one of Casaroli's men. But, as I say, I don't think he will have a decisive say in naming the new Archbishop of Westminster."
This puts the appointment of Bishop Kenney as Auxiliary in Birmingham into a new perspective: Rome is choosing the Bishops of England and Wales. Perhaps the succession in Middlesbrough will give us a further clue about what might be going to happen.
In principle, the Apostolic Nuncio is the person charged with taking soundings, and advising Rome on who should be nominated for Westminster once the See is declared vacant. Realising that I knew little about Archbishop Sainz Muñoz (other than that he is "always welcome" at Eccleston Square) I asked a leading Spanish journalist, who specialises in ecclesiastical affairs, for an indication of which way the Nuncio's advice might go, and how it might be received. The answer was interesting (I have cut out a sentence which reflects on the leadership of the Church in England and Wales):
"Yo creo que el arzobispo de Westminster no lo decide el nuncio. Esos cargos tan importantes se deciden en Roma. Y supongo que el Papa ya tiene claro quien va a ser el sucesor de Murphy O'Connor que efectivamente en agosto cumple los setenta y cinco años. (...)
Efectivamente es un hombre de Casaroli. Pero como le digo no creo vaya a ser la persona decisiva para nombrar al nuevo arzobispo de Westminster."
"The Archbishop of Westminster is not chosen by the Nuncio. Posts as important as this are settled in Rome. And I imagine that the Pope is already clear about who Murphy O'Connor's successor will be once, in August, he has his 75th birthday. (...)
He (Sainz Muñoz) is basically one of Casaroli's men. But, as I say, I don't think he will have a decisive say in naming the new Archbishop of Westminster."
This puts the appointment of Bishop Kenney as Auxiliary in Birmingham into a new perspective: Rome is choosing the Bishops of England and Wales. Perhaps the succession in Middlesbrough will give us a further clue about what might be going to happen.
08 June 2007
Learning about English Catholic History
The story of the 1908 Eucharistic Congress in London from Idle Speculations.
When Television Is Good
BBC1 has just begun a series on "How We Built Britain". Episode One stayed in East Anglia and covered the mediaeval period, starting at Ely Cathedral and ending at Kings College, Cambridge, by way of wool churches and some surviving castles. It was what public service broadcasting is for, and David Dimbleby excelled as a presenter: he guided the viewer to look, and didn't interpose his personality between the viewer and the subject of his programme. Two scenes: where he showed how mediaeval roof timbers were labelled, and where those labels can still be seen; and when he went into the space between the Kings College vaulting and its roof, and showed the spy holes the masons had drilled through; were absolutely wonderful.
I recorded the programme. I thought that, converted to an MPEG it would be just what Jeffrey, the Roving Mediaevalist, needed, and after the trying week he has suffered I think I would have been spot on.
Until I found that the programme had been overwritten, and by trash (I plead the existence of two teenagers in the house.)
I can only appeal to his magnanimity and hope that BBC programmes like this may some day be aired on PBS or be available on NTSC Region One DVDs.
I recorded the programme. I thought that, converted to an MPEG it would be just what Jeffrey, the Roving Mediaevalist, needed, and after the trying week he has suffered I think I would have been spot on.
Until I found that the programme had been overwritten, and by trash (I plead the existence of two teenagers in the house.)
I can only appeal to his magnanimity and hope that BBC programmes like this may some day be aired on PBS or be available on NTSC Region One DVDs.
How to use the web
Courtesy of Damian Thompson's blog, I found a site in which a Chapel in which the Blessed Sacrament is perpetually adored has had a webcam added.
"Enjoy a variety of prayer aids intended to enrich your time with our Lord in adoration. With the exception of a few brief periods each day, Our Lord in the Most Blessed Sacrament is presented live via webcam from the Chapel of Divine Love in Philadelphia, PA - a source of perpetual Eucharistic adoration by the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters since 1916."
(I thought "PA" means the US State of "Philadelphia". Jeffrey has corrected this misunderstanding: it means the US State of Pennsylvania.)
I thought: "I really don't like the monstrance" and almost immediately wondered how I dared even think like that.
God Bless these holy nuns! Clicking on the link isn't participating in Eucharistic Adoration, any more than watching a YouTube video of Mass is the same as going to Mass. But as a way of uniting ourselves in prayer with what they are doing in person, this is really great!
"Enjoy a variety of prayer aids intended to enrich your time with our Lord in adoration. With the exception of a few brief periods each day, Our Lord in the Most Blessed Sacrament is presented live via webcam from the Chapel of Divine Love in Philadelphia, PA - a source of perpetual Eucharistic adoration by the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters since 1916."
(I thought "PA" means the US State of "Philadelphia". Jeffrey has corrected this misunderstanding: it means the US State of Pennsylvania.)
I thought: "I really don't like the monstrance" and almost immediately wondered how I dared even think like that.
God Bless these holy nuns! Clicking on the link isn't participating in Eucharistic Adoration, any more than watching a YouTube video of Mass is the same as going to Mass. But as a way of uniting ourselves in prayer with what they are doing in person, this is really great!
04 June 2007
GCSEs
Pray for all children who are going through GCSEs. Pray especially for those who have gone through a modern educational system which has created fine young people who care deeply for their fellow human beings but don't seem to realise that public examinations are important. Yes: I have one all of my own, and I am more nervous than I was when I was taking my own O Levels. Coming away from school full of the Gifts of the Holy Ghost is fine: coming away with six or seven A* to Cs would be nice too.
03 June 2007
5 June 1940
J B Priestley read his first "Postcript" after the 9 o'clock news.
"I wonder how many of you feel as I do about this great Battle and evacuation of Dunkirk. The news of it came as a series of surprises and shocks, followed by equally astonishing new waves of hope. It was all, from beginning to end, unexpected. And yet now that it's over, and we can look back on it, doesn't it seem to you to have an inevitable air about it - as if we had turned a page in the history of Britain and seen a chapter headed "Dunkirk" - and perhaps seen too a picture of the troops on the beach waiting to embark?
.
...
.
What strikes me about it is how typically English it is. Nothing, I feel, could be more English both in its beginning and its end, its folly and its grandeur. We have gone sadly wrong like this before, and here and now we must resolve never, never to do it again. What began as a miserable blunder, a catalogue of misfortunes ended as an epic of gallantry.
.
...
.
We have a queer habit - and you can see it running through our history - of conjuring up such transformations. And to my mind what was most characteristically English about it was the part played not by the warships but by the little pleasure-steamers. We've known them and laughed at them, these fussy little steamers, all our lives. These 'Brighton Belles' and 'Brighton Queens' left that innocent foolish world of theirs to sail into the inferno, to defy bombs, shells, magnetic mines, torpedoes, machine-gun fire - to rescue our soldiers.
....
.
But now - look - this little steamer, like all her brave and battered sisters, is immortal. She'll go sailing proudly down the years in the epic of Dunkirk. And our great grand-children, when they learn how we began this War by snatching glory out of defeat, and then swept on to victory, may also learn how the little holiday steamers made an excursion to hell and came back glorious."
Well, JB's children were alive then, so his grandchildren would probably have been born in the 50s or 60s, which means that his great grandchildren would be in school now. I can't see their children learning about Dunkirk somehow.
I tried a thesis out on Moretben once: that my generation, those of us born between about 1945 and 1960, is as affected by the Second World War as was our parents', mainly because of the effect on our parents. We were taught: to eat everything up; not to complain about not having things; to think that things could be much worse; to face up to adversity; to thank God for and enjoy small mercies; not to waste things. All amid an expectation that we would be called up to fight in a new World War, we imbibed the values that had carried our parents through the Second.
Perhaps it's one reason for our drifting: we weren't called on, as our parents were, to make the sacrifices that they made, and therefore find it difficult to insist on imposing on our children the values and customs that our parents felt justified in imposing on us. The mess that happened in the 70s and 80s is therefore our fault: we didn't stand up to the awful changes we knew were wrong, instead bending like grass in the wind, and allowing the Enemy to secure a foothold. We lost our nerve.
J B Priestley knew, on 5 June 1940, that the war would be won, and girded himself to play his part; he knew what war was: he had been in the trenches twenty five years earlier. Sixty-seven years later, what should we do?
02 June 2007
The Theology of the Body
David Palmer is in the middle of a spellbindingly good series of posts on Sex and the Catholic Church.
The really good thing is that this former Anglican vicar will begin his formation as a priest at Oscott in September. Assuming that everything goes well, he will fulfill in the Catholic Church his former vocation, and will bring us a richness of theological understanding that derives from his reconciliation.
As he says:
"As a convert I am often amazed at how "cradle" Catholics can fail to recognise the beauty of their faith... so I will do all I can to proclaim it here!"
The really good thing is that this former Anglican vicar will begin his formation as a priest at Oscott in September. Assuming that everything goes well, he will fulfill in the Catholic Church his former vocation, and will bring us a richness of theological understanding that derives from his reconciliation.
As he says:
"As a convert I am often amazed at how "cradle" Catholics can fail to recognise the beauty of their faith... so I will do all I can to proclaim it here!"
31 May 2007
Losing a friend
Would I join my (very) high Anglican friend at a local Christians Together meeting at the local URC Chapel? I said that I wouldn't: I don't like lowest common denominator religion, and the agenda was about supporting Oxfam and Cafod, and I don't support them.
After a while, he asked if I'd come to Benediction at his church. I said that I wouldn't.
"Is that because the Roman Mission in England believes that we are worshipping a piece of bread?"
"I wouldn't have put it that way ..." I started, and waffled, and gradually felt the threads of friendship beginning to untangle. "Don't let's fall out."
"We already have."
I'm of an age where new friendships are rare, and can't easily replace old ones; and old friendships become more valuable just because of their endurance and durability: old is good, a lot of the time, just because it's old.
But not all the time.
Oh well. Back to the poems.
After a while, he asked if I'd come to Benediction at his church. I said that I wouldn't.
"Is that because the Roman Mission in England believes that we are worshipping a piece of bread?"
"I wouldn't have put it that way ..." I started, and waffled, and gradually felt the threads of friendship beginning to untangle. "Don't let's fall out."
"We already have."
I'm of an age where new friendships are rare, and can't easily replace old ones; and old friendships become more valuable just because of their endurance and durability: old is good, a lot of the time, just because it's old.
But not all the time.
Oh well. Back to the poems.
29 May 2007
More R S Thomas
I stumbled across his biography on a shelf of a forgotten bookcase a couple of days ago. He's up there with Larkin and Betjeman.
The Bright Field
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
the treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
.
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
The Bright Field
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
the treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
.
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
28 May 2007
As lyrical a love poem as any ...
... in the English language. R S Thomas about his wife.
We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
Love's moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
'Come' said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance. And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.
We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
Love's moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
'Come' said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance. And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.
26 May 2007
Good News from Australia
In a comment on a posting in the New Liturgical Movement, "Tom" says:
"On a matter perhaps of interest, the Archbishop of Melbourne, Denis Hart, today celebrated Solemn Pontifical Mass at the Throne for the Vigil of Pentecost with the Nuptial Rite (according to the books of 1962) at the Minor Basilica of our Lady of Victories in Camberwell, a Melbourne suburb. It is believed to be the first time a bishop has celebrated nuptial rites within a Solemn Ponitifical Mass in Australia ever. The whole Mass was filmed ..."
O felix Australia! Not only is Archbishop Hart going to celebrate Confirmations in the Traditional Rite, but Bishop Howse celebrates traditionally too! Hat tip to Juventutem.
"On a matter perhaps of interest, the Archbishop of Melbourne, Denis Hart, today celebrated Solemn Pontifical Mass at the Throne for the Vigil of Pentecost with the Nuptial Rite (according to the books of 1962) at the Minor Basilica of our Lady of Victories in Camberwell, a Melbourne suburb. It is believed to be the first time a bishop has celebrated nuptial rites within a Solemn Ponitifical Mass in Australia ever. The whole Mass was filmed ..."
O felix Australia! Not only is Archbishop Hart going to celebrate Confirmations in the Traditional Rite, but Bishop Howse celebrates traditionally too! Hat tip to Juventutem.
24 May 2007
Annoyance
I had my annual performace review today. I was told that I was too intellectual. I said that, given that we didn't have problems any more, only opportunities, then my intellect might be an insurmountable opportunity. I was told that that was exactly the sort of thing that they were talking about.
Ho hum.
Ho hum.
Developing a point
I said below:
"For most of us in English speaking countries, the Reformation was the great catastrophe: Catholics were martyred by people who claimed to be doing God's work. The analogous catstrophe in Latin countries was the French Revolution: Catholics were martyred in the name of politics, not religion. Perhaps this is why Belloc is different from Chesterton."
I have been asked to elaborate.
By the time of the French Revolution, Catholics in countries like Britain which had undergone the Reformation had managed to come to a form of greater or lesser tolerance by the States in which they lived. English Catholics had places of worship throughout the 18th Century, and priests could minister to them. If you were rich, there will still limitations: you couldn't go to the Universities, or join the Army - at least in England; but you could study, and serve the King, by going to University or by joining the Army in Hannover. If you were poor, you would be at worst tolerated, and the odd Gordon Riot apart, your place of worship would not be destroyed. (Incidentally, in Barnaby Rudge, Dickens mentions the execution of Catholics executed for joining in the Gordon Riots, pointing out that they were attended by their priests.) It meant that by the time of the French Revolution, Catholics in Britain were part of the polity of the State: not fully part constitutionally, but desirous of showing their loyalty.
The effect of the French Revolution on the countries which had not undergone the Reformation was different: the reconciliation of the Catholic population to the forms of the State has never fully taken place, and the ideology of the Left has always included anti-Catholicsm.
This, I suggest, is one reason why the SSPX has been viewed with more suspicion on this side of the Channel than the other. The integrisme of politics and belief which is common on the Right in Latin countries is founded in the Revolution and as such does not echo here. It is hard to believe that Bishop Williamson actually represents in any shape or form a point of view that resounds in Catholic hearts in Britain today.
The politicisation (perhaps better, the non-liturgical baggage the average non-Latin Catholic sees the SSPX bringing in its train) of the Tridentine Mass has been a gift to those Liberals who wish to see the past forgotten, especially those in English-speaking countries where the dichotomy of political Left versus religious Right might not otherwise hold. The Motu Proprio might allow this dichotomy to be shown up for the false alternative that it is.
"For most of us in English speaking countries, the Reformation was the great catastrophe: Catholics were martyred by people who claimed to be doing God's work. The analogous catstrophe in Latin countries was the French Revolution: Catholics were martyred in the name of politics, not religion. Perhaps this is why Belloc is different from Chesterton."
I have been asked to elaborate.
By the time of the French Revolution, Catholics in countries like Britain which had undergone the Reformation had managed to come to a form of greater or lesser tolerance by the States in which they lived. English Catholics had places of worship throughout the 18th Century, and priests could minister to them. If you were rich, there will still limitations: you couldn't go to the Universities, or join the Army - at least in England; but you could study, and serve the King, by going to University or by joining the Army in Hannover. If you were poor, you would be at worst tolerated, and the odd Gordon Riot apart, your place of worship would not be destroyed. (Incidentally, in Barnaby Rudge, Dickens mentions the execution of Catholics executed for joining in the Gordon Riots, pointing out that they were attended by their priests.) It meant that by the time of the French Revolution, Catholics in Britain were part of the polity of the State: not fully part constitutionally, but desirous of showing their loyalty.
The effect of the French Revolution on the countries which had not undergone the Reformation was different: the reconciliation of the Catholic population to the forms of the State has never fully taken place, and the ideology of the Left has always included anti-Catholicsm.
This, I suggest, is one reason why the SSPX has been viewed with more suspicion on this side of the Channel than the other. The integrisme of politics and belief which is common on the Right in Latin countries is founded in the Revolution and as such does not echo here. It is hard to believe that Bishop Williamson actually represents in any shape or form a point of view that resounds in Catholic hearts in Britain today.
The politicisation (perhaps better, the non-liturgical baggage the average non-Latin Catholic sees the SSPX bringing in its train) of the Tridentine Mass has been a gift to those Liberals who wish to see the past forgotten, especially those in English-speaking countries where the dichotomy of political Left versus religious Right might not otherwise hold. The Motu Proprio might allow this dichotomy to be shown up for the false alternative that it is.
21 May 2007
Can the US be so sunk in sin?
According to the Daily Eudemon (a daily "must", by the way), the Catholic Mens' Quarterly is offering a book with every new subscription. He says:
"I can’t vouch for the book, but I’ve ordered a copy. Go here to subscribe to CMQ. It’s only $20 a year. I know guys who spend more than that every year on underwear (I don’t hang out with those kind of guys, but they exist)."
Really? That's £10 sterling! Who are these people?
"I can’t vouch for the book, but I’ve ordered a copy. Go here to subscribe to CMQ. It’s only $20 a year. I know guys who spend more than that every year on underwear (I don’t hang out with those kind of guys, but they exist)."
Really? That's £10 sterling! Who are these people?
20 May 2007
A Translation
This is the translation of a piece by Rafael Castela Santos called "Letter to My Daughter: from Europe to Anti-Europe". For most of us in English speaking countries, the Reformation was the great catastrophe: Catholics were martyred by people who claimed to be doing God's work. The analogous catstrophe in Latin countries was the French Revolution: Catholics were martyred in the name of politics, not religion. Perhaps this is why Belloc is different from Chesterton.
Dear daughter
I write because you really are European; because you were conceived in Portugal, in Fatima; because Spanish, French and German blood runs through your veins; because you grew up in the United Kingdom; because you speak several languages, including a bit of Latin; and because your father, who loves you profoundly, sees a certain Carolingian idea reflected in you which fills him with longing. And above all, because you are Catholic, which is the True Faith: the One True, as I often have you repeat, petite chouanne. Because the only real way of being European is to be Catholic. Those who aren’t, and those who fight our True Religion are the destroyers of Europe, whether they know it or not.
About two thousand years ago, a noble people, the Romans, conquered Europe. They were excellent civil engineers and excellent soldiers. Remember the bridges and aqueducts we have seen in Spain, and the Roman roads and ruins we have seen in Cirencester, in Metz, in Salamanca, in Merida, and in Evora. Apart from all of this, they left us their laws, Roman Law, an impressive monument, which continues to inspire us. I’ll explain one day, but this is all about what your Dad says to you about being fair, about being fair to our neighbours, or about your being fair to the other girls at school.
You know how I go on about how in Spain and Portugal the Roman influence penetrated deeper than in the rest of the Empire. It’s as though we are more Roman than the rest of the Romans. You know that reverential love that I have for your grandparents, my parents? You know how the first thing that I do when I take you to Spain is to go to the cemetery? Well, sweetheart, that is something that comes from our religion, but also from the Romans. When I’m old, I want you to respect me in the same way that I respect your grandparents, and when I die, I want you to pray for me in the same way as I pray for all our dead. I’m not asking this for me particularly, nor for you, but that you remember your roots; and because by honouring your parents and your ancestors, you honour your country as well.
I always tell you that you should think about things, that you should use your reason; because of all the powers your soul possesses, reason is the most important. The Greeks taught us this, and the Romans, as they developed and invaded other lands, were not stupid, and realised that the Greeks were very clever and precise. The Romans were amazed by the Greeks. Do you remember Socrates whose death was so serene? Aristotle, of whom I have spoken to you, who had the greatest intellect of Antiquity? Well – they were Greeks. One day, God Willing, we will read them together and discuss them. But the Greeks lacked life. There was too much death and cruelty. There was slavery. Above all, there was darkness. All this because our first parents, Adam and Eve, sinned. This human race need to be restored, but only God could seal off the offence which we humans had committed against God. And from among a people chosen by God, the Jewish people, whose blood also runs through your veins, the Messiah, the Redeemer was born: Our Lord Jesus Christ. But Israel, called to be the light of the world, turned its back on the most sublime Son of the chosen people and his message came to Rome, to the Gentiles.
And on that assumed obligation of loving God before all other obligations, they built, over centuries, the greatest civilisation that had ever been: Christian Civilisation. Think of the Cathedrals and castles we have seen together, all of which had Jesus Christ, True God and True Man at their centre. Think of the beauty of the things they made. The saint to whom we always pray, St Thomas Aquinas, wrote, a guiding work. A genius, the poet Dante, wrote the Divine Comedy. I remember as one of the greatest moments of my life sitting beside your crib and rereading the Divine Comedy. The Blessed Virgin spread her blue protective veil across that civilisation.
But men fell away, and Europe – Christianity – stopped being Christianity. Anti-Europe, Anti-Christianity began. In the same way as when Moses descended from Sinai and found the people worshipping the golden calf, the idea that money and trade were the most important thing began to gain ground. The knights who protected maidens in castles, as in the stories I have read to you, were no more; and kings and the powerful exploited the poor and the weak instead of defending them as is their duty.
People began to think strange things. They emptied words of their meanings and began to do ugly things. Up to then, God, Jesus Christ, had been the centre of all things. But they began to put Man at the centre of things and stopped thinking of God as so important. There were some awful men, like Luther, who split Europe in two. And as you will have noticed in Alsace, there are Lutheran villages which at first look cleaner on the outside, but end up looking uglier than Catholic villages.
Then horrible things happened, as in France, your other mother country, where some miserable revolutionaries built a world out of hatred of God and the Holy Catholic Church. Anti-Europe, Anti-Christianity began to show its true face. Now do you understand why, whenever we travel through France, I get angry and start shouting whenever we see statues of people like Eckermann, Kleber or Napoleon, murderers of the worst kind?
But there was resistance in every country. We resisted in the Vendee, in France, in the way that I hope that you, petite chouanne, will resist. We resisted in Spain, with the Carlist heroes, right up to the Last Crusade in 1936. In the other Spains, which are also European, we also suffered greatly, for example in Argentina, or later the Cristeros, martyrs in the lands of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We also stood up in Portugal to republicans, masons and liberals. In Italy we did what we could against Garibaldi and the Carbonarios, orcs who issued forth from Hell.
Meanwhile in Russia, Sauron was in incubation. Even if in Europe he has lost his power, little by little he has taken over in Asia, China and Russia. Communism, the penultimate heresy, but the worst so far, has triumphed in these countries. One day, if we follow the message of Fatima, Russia will return to the Faith and the Church. That is the day when Europe will arise.
What they call Europe today – the European Union – is no more than a few steps towards the Antichrist, the man of perdition. Do not believe in it.
I am not well and perhaps will not live to see Europe arisen. But I have given to you the best of what I know and am able to give. Europe is Christianity: nothing else. Whatever is not Christianity isn’t Europe; it is de facto Anti-Europe. Be virtuous; fight for virtue, even if it costs you your life. Pass this on to your children, my grandchildren and if you become a nun – and how pleased I would be if you did! – pass it on to your spiritual children, the ones who call you Mother.
Fight phariseeism, a cancer which corrodes the spirit. Be hopeful. We are living through bad times, but victory will be Christ’s and nobody else’s. Europe will be Christian again and there will be a shout of joy, great as the centuries have never known, and there will be peace in Christ. I’ve already taught you the Latin: Pax Christi.
Oh! One more thing: don’t eat so much chocolate.
From your father, who loves you with all his soul and all his being, and who blesses you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost
Rafael Castela Santos
Dear daughter
I write because you really are European; because you were conceived in Portugal, in Fatima; because Spanish, French and German blood runs through your veins; because you grew up in the United Kingdom; because you speak several languages, including a bit of Latin; and because your father, who loves you profoundly, sees a certain Carolingian idea reflected in you which fills him with longing. And above all, because you are Catholic, which is the True Faith: the One True, as I often have you repeat, petite chouanne. Because the only real way of being European is to be Catholic. Those who aren’t, and those who fight our True Religion are the destroyers of Europe, whether they know it or not.
About two thousand years ago, a noble people, the Romans, conquered Europe. They were excellent civil engineers and excellent soldiers. Remember the bridges and aqueducts we have seen in Spain, and the Roman roads and ruins we have seen in Cirencester, in Metz, in Salamanca, in Merida, and in Evora. Apart from all of this, they left us their laws, Roman Law, an impressive monument, which continues to inspire us. I’ll explain one day, but this is all about what your Dad says to you about being fair, about being fair to our neighbours, or about your being fair to the other girls at school.
You know how I go on about how in Spain and Portugal the Roman influence penetrated deeper than in the rest of the Empire. It’s as though we are more Roman than the rest of the Romans. You know that reverential love that I have for your grandparents, my parents? You know how the first thing that I do when I take you to Spain is to go to the cemetery? Well, sweetheart, that is something that comes from our religion, but also from the Romans. When I’m old, I want you to respect me in the same way that I respect your grandparents, and when I die, I want you to pray for me in the same way as I pray for all our dead. I’m not asking this for me particularly, nor for you, but that you remember your roots; and because by honouring your parents and your ancestors, you honour your country as well.
I always tell you that you should think about things, that you should use your reason; because of all the powers your soul possesses, reason is the most important. The Greeks taught us this, and the Romans, as they developed and invaded other lands, were not stupid, and realised that the Greeks were very clever and precise. The Romans were amazed by the Greeks. Do you remember Socrates whose death was so serene? Aristotle, of whom I have spoken to you, who had the greatest intellect of Antiquity? Well – they were Greeks. One day, God Willing, we will read them together and discuss them. But the Greeks lacked life. There was too much death and cruelty. There was slavery. Above all, there was darkness. All this because our first parents, Adam and Eve, sinned. This human race need to be restored, but only God could seal off the offence which we humans had committed against God. And from among a people chosen by God, the Jewish people, whose blood also runs through your veins, the Messiah, the Redeemer was born: Our Lord Jesus Christ. But Israel, called to be the light of the world, turned its back on the most sublime Son of the chosen people and his message came to Rome, to the Gentiles.
And on that assumed obligation of loving God before all other obligations, they built, over centuries, the greatest civilisation that had ever been: Christian Civilisation. Think of the Cathedrals and castles we have seen together, all of which had Jesus Christ, True God and True Man at their centre. Think of the beauty of the things they made. The saint to whom we always pray, St Thomas Aquinas, wrote, a guiding work. A genius, the poet Dante, wrote the Divine Comedy. I remember as one of the greatest moments of my life sitting beside your crib and rereading the Divine Comedy. The Blessed Virgin spread her blue protective veil across that civilisation.
But men fell away, and Europe – Christianity – stopped being Christianity. Anti-Europe, Anti-Christianity began. In the same way as when Moses descended from Sinai and found the people worshipping the golden calf, the idea that money and trade were the most important thing began to gain ground. The knights who protected maidens in castles, as in the stories I have read to you, were no more; and kings and the powerful exploited the poor and the weak instead of defending them as is their duty.
People began to think strange things. They emptied words of their meanings and began to do ugly things. Up to then, God, Jesus Christ, had been the centre of all things. But they began to put Man at the centre of things and stopped thinking of God as so important. There were some awful men, like Luther, who split Europe in two. And as you will have noticed in Alsace, there are Lutheran villages which at first look cleaner on the outside, but end up looking uglier than Catholic villages.
Then horrible things happened, as in France, your other mother country, where some miserable revolutionaries built a world out of hatred of God and the Holy Catholic Church. Anti-Europe, Anti-Christianity began to show its true face. Now do you understand why, whenever we travel through France, I get angry and start shouting whenever we see statues of people like Eckermann, Kleber or Napoleon, murderers of the worst kind?
But there was resistance in every country. We resisted in the Vendee, in France, in the way that I hope that you, petite chouanne, will resist. We resisted in Spain, with the Carlist heroes, right up to the Last Crusade in 1936. In the other Spains, which are also European, we also suffered greatly, for example in Argentina, or later the Cristeros, martyrs in the lands of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We also stood up in Portugal to republicans, masons and liberals. In Italy we did what we could against Garibaldi and the Carbonarios, orcs who issued forth from Hell.
Meanwhile in Russia, Sauron was in incubation. Even if in Europe he has lost his power, little by little he has taken over in Asia, China and Russia. Communism, the penultimate heresy, but the worst so far, has triumphed in these countries. One day, if we follow the message of Fatima, Russia will return to the Faith and the Church. That is the day when Europe will arise.
What they call Europe today – the European Union – is no more than a few steps towards the Antichrist, the man of perdition. Do not believe in it.
I am not well and perhaps will not live to see Europe arisen. But I have given to you the best of what I know and am able to give. Europe is Christianity: nothing else. Whatever is not Christianity isn’t Europe; it is de facto Anti-Europe. Be virtuous; fight for virtue, even if it costs you your life. Pass this on to your children, my grandchildren and if you become a nun – and how pleased I would be if you did! – pass it on to your spiritual children, the ones who call you Mother.
Fight phariseeism, a cancer which corrodes the spirit. Be hopeful. We are living through bad times, but victory will be Christ’s and nobody else’s. Europe will be Christian again and there will be a shout of joy, great as the centuries have never known, and there will be peace in Christ. I’ve already taught you the Latin: Pax Christi.
Oh! One more thing: don’t eat so much chocolate.
From your father, who loves you with all his soul and all his being, and who blesses you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost
Rafael Castela Santos
18 May 2007
Tagged for a Meme - Five Catholic Places in England
Fr Ray Blake tagged me for this one.
First, Lancashire, the County Palatine, the Duchy ("The Queen, the Duke of Lancaster!" as we toast her, loyally) and the place where the faith was never extinguished. As early as 1611, a new public Catholic cemetery was consecrated in Little Crosby.We had six houses at school, and each was named for a Lancashire Martyr: Almond, Barlow, Cottam, Hurst, Rigby, Southworth. Lancashire was where Shakespeare came as a young actor to work for the Stanleys and be able to practice his Faith while he learned his art. Lancashire welcomed the Irish immigrants who came to fuel the Industrial revolution.
Second, the Church of the Holy Name on Oxford Road in Manchester. When I was at the University of Manchester, this was a Jesuit Church, and the Jesuits ran the Chaplaincy next door. The "spirit of Vatican II" was abroad and the Chaplaincy was in the van, but one of the priests, Fr Orr, took an interest in my spritual, moral and intellectual development, and allowed me to serve at his private Mass. The Jesuits gave the church over to the Oratorian Fathers, and I pray that Manchester's Oratory will become as London's and Birmingham's.
Third, the Hidden Gem, St Mary's, Mulberry St, Manchester. I can't find a non-copyright photo, but here's a map. This is Manchester's church, the home of the shrine of Our Lady of Manchester. The nun who knew me from when I was born until her death last Autumn (and who discovered Paul Scholes) was sufficiently Irish to be annoyed by Manchester's having its own Marian shrine, though not annoyed enough to refuse to go inside . According to the editor of the Universe, the parish Priest refuses to stock his newspaper.
Fourth, Westminster Cathedral, the Cathedral of the Most Precious Blood, and our national church. Bentley's design is both inspired and inspiring. When I go to Whitehall, I always get off the tube at Victoria so that I can walk up Victoria St and pop into the Cathedral. If I'm lucky and the times are right, I get to Mass. I always pay a quick visit to the Chapel of St Patrick where the Irish Regiments which fought in World War One are commemorated to say a prayer for all the loyal Irishmen who died for their country and those who survived but were never allowed to vote on whether or not their country should become independent of the United Kingdom. I have never yet met anybody who was not stirred by the cavernous interior of the Cathedral, and can never forget my wonder as a thirteen year old, visiting for the first time, on being told that one day all of the ceilings and walls would be covered in mosaic..
Fifth, and no picture, every Catholic Church in the country which is open and which allows people to wander in and pray before the Blessed Sacrament. I grew up in an area where men and women unselfconsciously crossed themselves every time they passed a church, on foor, on a bus or in a car. I long for a return to those days.
12 May 2007
Is the Pope a Catholic?
He believes that Mary is the Mediatrix of all Graces.
He believes that anybody who corrupts children by selling them drugs runs the risk of going to Hell.
He believes that it is the job of Bishops to maintain the Catholic Faith in their local Churches.
He believes that anybody who corrupts children by selling them drugs runs the risk of going to Hell.
He believes that it is the job of Bishops to maintain the Catholic Faith in their local Churches.
During his trip to Brazil, the Holy Father is expounding the manifesto for his Pontificate, which is to restate the Faith of the Church.
He'll do me.
10 May 2007
In which I learn a lesson
Several lessons ...
I posted a comment on the blog of a Catholic journalist on a national newspaper about the poor young Irish woman who is coming to the UK for an abortion.
1. Newspaper blogs are not quite like blogspot blogs: they are read by people from a wide spectrum of opinion rather than by people who have chosen to read blogs with which they feel in tune.
2. If you have an e-mail address on your profile, a lot of people will feel the need to send you an e-mail. There is an e-mail equivalent of green ink. E-mails can be as vile and poisonous as letters.
3. Journalists are much, much, better at witty put downs (however poor their arguments) than I am; that's probably why they are journalists and I just run a modest blog.
4. If you thought that some of the Catholics who posted on The Universe's forum when it existed were "robust" in their opinions, then try those who read blogs from national press.
5. Remember all four lessons above before posting on a journalist's blog.
6. But also remember that the Truth is Great and It will prevail; and that being a fool for Christ's sake has, at least, apostolic approbation.
Bloodied, and a bit bowed, I am
Dear Readers
Yours affec. in Xto
I posted a comment on the blog of a Catholic journalist on a national newspaper about the poor young Irish woman who is coming to the UK for an abortion.
1. Newspaper blogs are not quite like blogspot blogs: they are read by people from a wide spectrum of opinion rather than by people who have chosen to read blogs with which they feel in tune.
2. If you have an e-mail address on your profile, a lot of people will feel the need to send you an e-mail. There is an e-mail equivalent of green ink. E-mails can be as vile and poisonous as letters.
3. Journalists are much, much, better at witty put downs (however poor their arguments) than I am; that's probably why they are journalists and I just run a modest blog.
4. If you thought that some of the Catholics who posted on The Universe's forum when it existed were "robust" in their opinions, then try those who read blogs from national press.
5. Remember all four lessons above before posting on a journalist's blog.
6. But also remember that the Truth is Great and It will prevail; and that being a fool for Christ's sake has, at least, apostolic approbation.
Bloodied, and a bit bowed, I am
Dear Readers
Yours affec. in Xto
08 May 2007
Requiem for a Blog
Valle Adurni was one of the first Catholic blogs I read after I had been introduced to blogging by Moretben. It is no more. A cavalcade of video images, sound thought and the great scoop - the Grey Book of the New Translation of the Mass - are brought to nought by the actions of a querelous priest who sought to defame Fr Sean Finnegan, the blog's author, in the eyes of the parishioners in the Adur Valley.
Fr Ray Blake reckons he knows who might have done it. Valle Adurni's author, Fr Sean Finnegan has simply asked for prayers for his flock and for the priest concerned.
I think it is the scoop that did it: there is an atmosphere abroad of "you can be a trad but don't make waves". Publication of the Grey Book's texts made many, many, waves. It may be a pure coincidence that so soon after publication Fr Sean has undergone this trial: but I doubt it.
He has asked for prayers for his defamer: I'm asking for prayers for him. I'm also asking for prayers for Fr Tim Finigan of the Hermeneutic of Continuity: I bet he's next on the list.
Fr Ray Blake reckons he knows who might have done it. Valle Adurni's author, Fr Sean Finnegan has simply asked for prayers for his flock and for the priest concerned.
I think it is the scoop that did it: there is an atmosphere abroad of "you can be a trad but don't make waves". Publication of the Grey Book's texts made many, many, waves. It may be a pure coincidence that so soon after publication Fr Sean has undergone this trial: but I doubt it.
He has asked for prayers for his defamer: I'm asking for prayers for him. I'm also asking for prayers for Fr Tim Finigan of the Hermeneutic of Continuity: I bet he's next on the list.
06 May 2007
An Iberian Eye Looks at England
In a post commemorating the twenty-fifth Anniversary of the Falklands War, from a rather different point of view than we will see in the UK, Rafael Castela Santos speaks about England.
"How I wish that this England, to which I owe so many thanks and which I love so much, could once again be the England of Tolkien, of Chesterton, of Belloc; of St Edward and of Alfred the Great; the England with which I can identify myself! God grant that the vision the holy Curé d'Ars had, of an England whose culture, wisdom and holiness were made magnificent by her return to Catholicsm, might come to pass! How I wish that England could once again be the most monastic nation in Christianity, as once it was! How I wish that the bitterness towards his country of that greatest of writers, Evelyn Waugh, might be changed into a happy smile in the hereafter! If only that idea, so united, so balanced and so perfect, that Cardinal Newman had about so many things could take root in his own country! How I wish that England could stop being Phoenician and could become Roman once again, in every sense of the word!
"How I wish that this England, to which I owe so many thanks and which I love so much, could once again be the England of Tolkien, of Chesterton, of Belloc; of St Edward and of Alfred the Great; the England with which I can identify myself! God grant that the vision the holy Curé d'Ars had, of an England whose culture, wisdom and holiness were made magnificent by her return to Catholicsm, might come to pass! How I wish that England could once again be the most monastic nation in Christianity, as once it was! How I wish that the bitterness towards his country of that greatest of writers, Evelyn Waugh, might be changed into a happy smile in the hereafter! If only that idea, so united, so balanced and so perfect, that Cardinal Newman had about so many things could take root in his own country! How I wish that England could stop being Phoenician and could become Roman once again, in every sense of the word!
05 May 2007
Pray for the Church in America
The Catholic Cavemen link to a site which tell how Catholic Bishops have approved some Catholic hospitals in the US giving the "morning after" pill to women who have been sexually assaulted. This is justified as follows:
"The bishops of these dioceses believe they are allowing the use of emergency contraception only in cases where "appropriate testing" has determined that the woman is not pregnant and thus the pill, in halting ovulation may prevent a pregnancy occurring as a result of the rape. The science however does not definitively back up their hopes."
Pray for a Church whose leaders can be (let us be charitable) so ignorant. Pray that they may see the gates of Hell, which gape open for such as collude in the murder of innocent children.
(I also thought about posting about motes and beams. Geddit?)
"The bishops of these dioceses believe they are allowing the use of emergency contraception only in cases where "appropriate testing" has determined that the woman is not pregnant and thus the pill, in halting ovulation may prevent a pregnancy occurring as a result of the rape. The science however does not definitively back up their hopes."
Pray for a Church whose leaders can be (let us be charitable) so ignorant. Pray that they may see the gates of Hell, which gape open for such as collude in the murder of innocent children.
(I also thought about posting about motes and beams. Geddit?)
04 May 2007
Tagged for a Meme
Mac, over here, tagged me for a meme: what books are you reading at the moment?
I live in a parish where the dismemberment of anything which might remind anybody of what the Mass should look and feel like, in a way that might be familiar to anybody who lived from the third century up to about 1970, is underway. I retain a bewildered loyalty to the idea that my Bishop is in communion with Rome and that sooner or later he will right the wrongs that are occuring. I escape from what is going on by reading a 21st Century edition of Fortescue's "Ceremonies of the Roman Rite Described", updated with all that is necessary. I try to remember a time when every action, every word, of the priest was so circumscribed by the rubrics that he could not say or do anything which would not make the Mass a blessed and holy ceremony, replete in every gesture with meaning.
Volume 5 of the History of British Intelligence in World War II is by Michael Howard and is all about Strategic Deception. One of the great stories of WWII is the way that the intelligence services managed to convinve the Nazis that their agents in the UK were working for Germany, when in fact every single one was working for the UK. Prof Howard's history is a masterpiece: scholarly and erudite, yet still a page turner. I have a theory that my generation - the generation of children whose parents fought in WWII - is as affected by the war as its parents' generation. If anyone is still reading and is interested, I am happy to expatiate further.
You and the other reader will have realised that this is a house of books. There are more books than I can count. I have never got rid of a book because each book is a bookmark in my memory. I am dyspraxic, and have an extra-developed sense of memory to compensate for an inability to organise and plan.
I always have at least four books on the go: one for the bus, one for picking up and putting down, and two for when I read before I go to sleep according to the mood in which I go to bed. At the moment there are two for the bus.
I live in a parish where the dismemberment of anything which might remind anybody of what the Mass should look and feel like, in a way that might be familiar to anybody who lived from the third century up to about 1970, is underway. I retain a bewildered loyalty to the idea that my Bishop is in communion with Rome and that sooner or later he will right the wrongs that are occuring. I escape from what is going on by reading a 21st Century edition of Fortescue's "Ceremonies of the Roman Rite Described", updated with all that is necessary. I try to remember a time when every action, every word, of the priest was so circumscribed by the rubrics that he could not say or do anything which would not make the Mass a blessed and holy ceremony, replete in every gesture with meaning.
"Pies and Prejudice: In Search of the North" by Stuart Maconie was a present. Everybody sniggers when I tell them that I have (had) never heard of somebody I understand to be a well known radio presenter. All I can say is that I have never heard him on Radio 3. A chap from Wigan, living in London, who realises one day when he is looking for sun-dried tomatoes for brunch, that he has become detached from his roots goes back to find out what the north is like. I left Manchester for ever many years ago, and apart from visits to family, never go back. But Manchester has not left me, and this book is convincing me that it never will.
Volume 5 of the History of British Intelligence in World War II is by Michael Howard and is all about Strategic Deception. One of the great stories of WWII is the way that the intelligence services managed to convinve the Nazis that their agents in the UK were working for Germany, when in fact every single one was working for the UK. Prof Howard's history is a masterpiece: scholarly and erudite, yet still a page turner. I have a theory that my generation - the generation of children whose parents fought in WWII - is as affected by the war as its parents' generation. If anyone is still reading and is interested, I am happy to expatiate further.
Finally, "Brewer's Rogues, Villains and Eccentrics". This is an entriguingly interesting Encyclopaedia of everybody who has gone to the bad in an entertaining sort of way in the UK in the last three hundred years or so. If you are the sort of person in whom George Orwell's essay on "The Decline of the English Murder" resonates, then this is the book for you. The Murder might have declined, as have no end of other sorts of crimes, but our tradition is proud, and even in our days, men and women are doing the sort of bizarre things that their forefathers did. This is the "dip into" book: there is nothing as satisfying as a brief entry on a mass murderer when you are trying to do the cooking.
30 April 2007
A new blog from Jeffrey
I once posted a coment in The Undercroft (I can't remember where, and am become Jeffreyish about bothering!) about the last time I met HM the Queen, and how I bottled out of saying to her: hic autem non habemus mantentem civitatem (though I sort of paraphrased). I remembered that this weekend when reading a piece in a Portuguese blog (which I have asked permission to translate here) which also called to mind the temporality of our civilisation. What struck me was that while here we have no abiding City, we have (especially those of us in lands conquered by Rome, the lands which can truly be called civilised) lots of clues about us, in the landscape, in the architecture, and in many of the common exchanges which pass between us as civility, which can actually help us recover our roots. The ghetto I suggested as perhaps the most appropriate place for Catholics to seek in 2007 isn't the dank shtetl but a cast of mind, which can be informed by the history, and perhaps the genius locus of wherever we happen to be in our country. There is lots wrong about the UK at the moment: there is also lots right.
Up pops Jeffrey: some of us find one blog hard enough, but Jeffrey is not content with one. He has just started a new one: Let Britannia Rise: which he subtitles "A Love Letter to the British Isles". He probably recognises the faults we find in our country but wants, I think, to point out that we are still very lucky in what we have.
"O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!"
Visit his blog to see how we can still be perceived, how we can still perceive ourselves, if we want to take the opportunity not to accept that the forces of darkness have won.
Up pops Jeffrey: some of us find one blog hard enough, but Jeffrey is not content with one. He has just started a new one: Let Britannia Rise: which he subtitles "A Love Letter to the British Isles". He probably recognises the faults we find in our country but wants, I think, to point out that we are still very lucky in what we have.
"O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!"
Visit his blog to see how we can still be perceived, how we can still perceive ourselves, if we want to take the opportunity not to accept that the forces of darkness have won.
25 April 2007
Another "How Not To Celebrate Mass" Video
On the day that Zenit posted an interesting article about how the Agnus Dei should be sung at the Fraction, I saw a new YouTube video which shows the Agnus Dei being sung inappropriately, while accompanying a major liturgical abuse.
Can I be a grumpy old man and right, both at the same time?
Can I be a grumpy old man and right, both at the same time?
23 April 2007
A Song for St George's Day
(Flanders and Swann, you should be living at this hour ...)
The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.
The rottenest bits of these islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot
You'll find he's a stinker, as likely as not.
Och aye, awa' wi' yon Edinburgh Festival
The Scotsman is mean, as we're all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair
He eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And he hasn't got bishops to show him the way!
The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.
Ah hit me old mother over the head with a shillelagh
The Irishman now our contempt is beneath
He sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth
He blows up policemen, or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and William the Third!
The English are noble, the English are nice,
And worth any other at double the price
Ah, iechyd da
The Welshman's dishonest and cheats when he can
And little and dark, more like monkey than man
He works underground with a lamp in his hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!
And crossing the Channel, one cannot say much
Of French and the Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are German, the Russians are red,
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed!
The English are moral, the English are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood.
And all the world over, each nation's the same
They've simply no notion of playing the game
They argue with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practice beforehand which ruins the fun!
The English, the English, the English are best
So up with the English and down with the rest.
It's not that they're wicked or natuarally bad
It's knowing they're foreign that makes them so mad!
For the English are all that a nation should be,
And the flower of the English are (Your name) and Me!
The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.
The rottenest bits of these islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot
You'll find he's a stinker, as likely as not.
Och aye, awa' wi' yon Edinburgh Festival
The Scotsman is mean, as we're all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair
He eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And he hasn't got bishops to show him the way!
The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.
Ah hit me old mother over the head with a shillelagh
The Irishman now our contempt is beneath
He sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth
He blows up policemen, or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and William the Third!
The English are noble, the English are nice,
And worth any other at double the price
Ah, iechyd da
The Welshman's dishonest and cheats when he can
And little and dark, more like monkey than man
He works underground with a lamp in his hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!
And crossing the Channel, one cannot say much
Of French and the Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are German, the Russians are red,
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed!
The English are moral, the English are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood.
And all the world over, each nation's the same
They've simply no notion of playing the game
They argue with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practice beforehand which ruins the fun!
The English, the English, the English are best
So up with the English and down with the rest.
It's not that they're wicked or natuarally bad
It's knowing they're foreign that makes them so mad!
For the English are all that a nation should be,
And the flower of the English are (Your name) and Me!
22 April 2007
An Episcopal Irritation
Well, two actually.
A friend tipped me off to a consultation document which the Diocese of Clifton has launched. Apart from by the document itself, he was profoundly irritated by Bishop Lang's introduction:
'My motto "Evangelii Nuntiandi" (Evangelisation in the Modern World) reminds us that ...'
So that's what Evangelii Nuntiandi means! Pope Paul VI's December 1975 Apostolic Exhortation wasn't about "Proclaiming the Gospel" after all.
Is nobody in the diocesan curia sufficiently familiar with Latin? Does the Bishop himself speak Latin? I hope he's not part of ICEL!
Grump, grump, grump, grump, grump!
A friend tipped me off to a consultation document which the Diocese of Clifton has launched. Apart from by the document itself, he was profoundly irritated by Bishop Lang's introduction:
'My motto "Evangelii Nuntiandi" (Evangelisation in the Modern World) reminds us that ...'
So that's what Evangelii Nuntiandi means! Pope Paul VI's December 1975 Apostolic Exhortation wasn't about "Proclaiming the Gospel" after all.
Is nobody in the diocesan curia sufficiently familiar with Latin? Does the Bishop himself speak Latin? I hope he's not part of ICEL!
Grump, grump, grump, grump, grump!
20 April 2007
Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet
Jesus' Blood never failed me yet
Never failed me yet
Jesus' Blood never failed me yet
It's one thing I know
For He loved me so ...
In the late 1960s, Gavin Bryars wrote the music for a documentary about street life in London. One of the shots was of an old alcoholic singing an old hymn he remembered.
He wrote:
"When I played it at home, I found that his singing was in tune with my piano, and I improvised a simple accompaniment. I noticed, too, that the first section of the song - 13 bars in length - formed an effective loop which repeated in a slightly unpredictable way. I took the tape loop to Leicester, where I was working in the Fine Art Department, and copied the loop onto a continuous reel of tape, thinking about perhaps adding an orchestrated accompaniment to this. The door of the recording room opened on to one of the large painting studios and I left the tape copying, with the door open, while I went to have a cup of coffee. When I came back I found the normally lively room unnaturally subdued. People were moving about much more slowly than usual and a few were sitting alone, quietly weeping.
I was puzzled until I realised that the tape was still playing and that they had been overcome by the old man's singing. This convinced me of the emotional power of the music and of the possibilities offered by adding a simple, though gradually evolving, orchestral accompaniment that respected the tramp's nobility and simple faith. Although he died before he could hear what I had done with his singing, the piece remains as an eloquent, but understated testimony to his spirit and optimism."
In 1993 he recorded his final version of the piece in 5 movements with a Coda, featuring, in the last two movements, Tom Waits accompanying the tramp. You can hear a fragment here. You will either love it or hate it (though bear in mind that that piece has taken more than an hour gradually to build up to this point.) I love it.
It does for me what Taize Chant does for other people: it takes a very simple motif and repeats it again and again. And again, and again, and again, for an hour and a quarter. There is a wonderful musical conceit: improvisation around a piece of improvised yet unchangeable performance; but I can barely listen to the music for listening to the words, the words printed above, repeated every twenty seconds or so, for the entire length of the piece.
The CD went missing nine years ago. This is a chaotic house, and books and CDs go missing for long periods of time. A twenty second fragment of music easily sticks in the mind, however, and I have never lost it. It accompanies me frequently, especially when things are conspiring to get me down. It conveys the simplest of truths, especially at Easter: Jesus' Blood never failed me yet. But not just at Easter: I have twice had the coffin of a parent on my shoulders, as I trudged across a cemetery with a gaping void in front of me, and each time, these words filled my mind.
Searching this evening for things to go to a jumble sale, my daughter found a box full of videos and CDs. And guess what: Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet was in it. She is 13 and thinks that it is rubbish. She might be right about the music - well, she isn't, but you know what I mean. But the message is sublime, and I am uplifted. God is Good.
Never failed me yet
Jesus' Blood never failed me yet
It's one thing I know
For He loved me so ...
In the late 1960s, Gavin Bryars wrote the music for a documentary about street life in London. One of the shots was of an old alcoholic singing an old hymn he remembered.
He wrote:
"When I played it at home, I found that his singing was in tune with my piano, and I improvised a simple accompaniment. I noticed, too, that the first section of the song - 13 bars in length - formed an effective loop which repeated in a slightly unpredictable way. I took the tape loop to Leicester, where I was working in the Fine Art Department, and copied the loop onto a continuous reel of tape, thinking about perhaps adding an orchestrated accompaniment to this. The door of the recording room opened on to one of the large painting studios and I left the tape copying, with the door open, while I went to have a cup of coffee. When I came back I found the normally lively room unnaturally subdued. People were moving about much more slowly than usual and a few were sitting alone, quietly weeping.
I was puzzled until I realised that the tape was still playing and that they had been overcome by the old man's singing. This convinced me of the emotional power of the music and of the possibilities offered by adding a simple, though gradually evolving, orchestral accompaniment that respected the tramp's nobility and simple faith. Although he died before he could hear what I had done with his singing, the piece remains as an eloquent, but understated testimony to his spirit and optimism."
In 1993 he recorded his final version of the piece in 5 movements with a Coda, featuring, in the last two movements, Tom Waits accompanying the tramp. You can hear a fragment here. You will either love it or hate it (though bear in mind that that piece has taken more than an hour gradually to build up to this point.) I love it.
It does for me what Taize Chant does for other people: it takes a very simple motif and repeats it again and again. And again, and again, and again, for an hour and a quarter. There is a wonderful musical conceit: improvisation around a piece of improvised yet unchangeable performance; but I can barely listen to the music for listening to the words, the words printed above, repeated every twenty seconds or so, for the entire length of the piece.
The CD went missing nine years ago. This is a chaotic house, and books and CDs go missing for long periods of time. A twenty second fragment of music easily sticks in the mind, however, and I have never lost it. It accompanies me frequently, especially when things are conspiring to get me down. It conveys the simplest of truths, especially at Easter: Jesus' Blood never failed me yet. But not just at Easter: I have twice had the coffin of a parent on my shoulders, as I trudged across a cemetery with a gaping void in front of me, and each time, these words filled my mind.
Searching this evening for things to go to a jumble sale, my daughter found a box full of videos and CDs. And guess what: Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet was in it. She is 13 and thinks that it is rubbish. She might be right about the music - well, she isn't, but you know what I mean. But the message is sublime, and I am uplifted. God is Good.
17 April 2007
A Meditation on Ten Years of our Governance
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England
They have no graves as yet.
G K Chesterton Elegy in a Country Churchyard
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England
They have no graves as yet.
G K Chesterton Elegy in a Country Churchyard
15 April 2007
In Memoriam
His father gave him a box of truisms
Shaped like a coffin, then his Father died;
The truisms remained on the mantelpiece
As wooden as the playbox they had been packed in
Or that other his father skulked inside.
Then he left home, left the truisms behind him
Still on the mantelpiece, met love, met war,
Sordor, disappointment, defeat, betrayal,
Till through disbeliefs he arrived at a house
He could not remember seeing before.
And he walked straight in; it was where he had come from
And something told him the way to behave.
He raised his hand and blessed his home;
The truisms flew and perched on his shoulders
And a tall tree sprouted from his father's grave.
Louis MacNeice
Shaped like a coffin, then his Father died;
The truisms remained on the mantelpiece
As wooden as the playbox they had been packed in
Or that other his father skulked inside.
Then he left home, left the truisms behind him
Still on the mantelpiece, met love, met war,
Sordor, disappointment, defeat, betrayal,
Till through disbeliefs he arrived at a house
He could not remember seeing before.
And he walked straight in; it was where he had come from
And something told him the way to behave.
He raised his hand and blessed his home;
The truisms flew and perched on his shoulders
And a tall tree sprouted from his father's grave.
Louis MacNeice
13 April 2007
Paul Johnson on the Pope
A very typical piece by Paul Johnson in this week's Spectator (full article available). I have heard John Paul II criticsed for many things in the past but "John Paul was not much interested in aesthetics and all that side of God’s wonders" was a new one. It made me think, though: was the late Pope's sensibility theatrical rather than aesthetic?
Wish the Holy Father a Happy Birthday online!
At the Vatican website there is a form to allow you to wish the Pope a Happy 80th Birthday for 16 April. You can even send him a message of support.
12 April 2007
W H Auden on ICEL
"The poor Roman Catholics have had to start from scratch, and, as any of them with a feeling for language will admit, they have made a cacophonous horror of the Mass. We had the extraordinary good fortune in that our Book of Common Prayer was composed at exactly the right historical moment. The English language had already become more or less what it is today, so that the Prayer Book is no more difficult to follow than Shakespeare, but the ecclesiastics of the sixteenth century still possessed a feeling for the ritual and ceremonious which today we have almost entirely lost. Why should we spit on our luck?"
W H Auden A Certain World: A Commonplace Book 1970
W H Auden A Certain World: A Commonplace Book 1970
11 April 2007
Computer Security: Passwords
Trying to work out who Terry Nelson might be, I learned of his IT problems.
Here's a mnemonic for the Internet age: "Passwords are like pants" (knickers, underpants).
1. Change them regularly.
2. Don't share them, even with your friends.
3. Don't show them to anybody.
Here's a mnemonic for the Internet age: "Passwords are like pants" (knickers, underpants).
1. Change them regularly.
2. Don't share them, even with your friends.
3. Don't show them to anybody.
10 April 2007
Spring
I have never seen the mayflower so early or so abundant, yet the hazel is well behind its normal schedule, the first buds just beginning to show. The oaks haven't acknowledged the end of winter yet. And so far in the garden we have had bullfinches, greenfinches, chaffinches, a linnet, tree sparrows, woodpeckers, blue tits, great tits, collared doves, woodpigeons, blackbirds and house sparrows. The bats come out at dusk, and there is a pair of owls nesting nearby whose cries wake me up sometimes in the night. There have been no thrushes yet, which is strange. The robins are still plentiful. A pair of buzzards is circling lazily in the thermals. It is ridiculously early for the housemartins, swifts and swallows, but they'll probably be here soon. All very strange, but good fun.
09 April 2007
The other sort of Holy Week
All the blogs are full of how well, how reverently, how faithfully, Holy Week was celebrated. It wasn't here.
No veils on the statues or crucifixes; during Lent; no veil even, on the Crucifix which was to be venerated on Good Friday. (But to make up for it, we at least had singing.) Annoyance (I infer annoyance from the constant looking at the watch from the Celebrant) at the amount of time the Veneration took. Holy Communion on Good Friday was better organised so as to take as little time as possible. A surprise on Holy Thursday was that the Blessed Sacrament was taken out of the Sanctuary to an "Altar of Repose" in the Sacristy: I assume there was a locked tabernacle in there somewhere. The side chapels in Church were not used, so Our Blessed Lord was left on his own this year: there was no possibility of watching. The new PP has established his authority.
I didn't go to the Vigil Mass: I had a sick person to look after for a few hours. But the main Mass on Easter Sunday was a treat: a three sermon Mass (one after the Rite of Introduction; one after the Baptismal Promises; one just before the Dismissal) but at least each sermon was unprepared, so that the Holy Spirit could show that He wasn't confined to pulpits or prepared texts. And who ever said that rythmn and blues was an unsatisfactory Mass setting? It might be impossible to sing for the congregation, but the music group loved it!
This was awful, but it was typical. Typical of a Church (in England and Wales) which at best tolerates rubrics but doesn't see them as binding; typical of a Church which has promoted an inferior (if valid) Rite which almost demands spontaneity from priest and people, as though spontaneity were a blessing instead of a curse; typical of a Church which has lost its way.
Genuine questions: in what sense am I in Communion with a Bishop who tolerates and encourages this sort of thing? How wrong would it be to abandon my parish to search for orthopraxis? How many more times will I have to apologise to my children for the great Liturgical celebrations not actually being the things I tell them in advance that they are going to be?
No veils on the statues or crucifixes; during Lent; no veil even, on the Crucifix which was to be venerated on Good Friday. (But to make up for it, we at least had singing.) Annoyance (I infer annoyance from the constant looking at the watch from the Celebrant) at the amount of time the Veneration took. Holy Communion on Good Friday was better organised so as to take as little time as possible. A surprise on Holy Thursday was that the Blessed Sacrament was taken out of the Sanctuary to an "Altar of Repose" in the Sacristy: I assume there was a locked tabernacle in there somewhere. The side chapels in Church were not used, so Our Blessed Lord was left on his own this year: there was no possibility of watching. The new PP has established his authority.
I didn't go to the Vigil Mass: I had a sick person to look after for a few hours. But the main Mass on Easter Sunday was a treat: a three sermon Mass (one after the Rite of Introduction; one after the Baptismal Promises; one just before the Dismissal) but at least each sermon was unprepared, so that the Holy Spirit could show that He wasn't confined to pulpits or prepared texts. And who ever said that rythmn and blues was an unsatisfactory Mass setting? It might be impossible to sing for the congregation, but the music group loved it!
This was awful, but it was typical. Typical of a Church (in England and Wales) which at best tolerates rubrics but doesn't see them as binding; typical of a Church which has promoted an inferior (if valid) Rite which almost demands spontaneity from priest and people, as though spontaneity were a blessing instead of a curse; typical of a Church which has lost its way.
Genuine questions: in what sense am I in Communion with a Bishop who tolerates and encourages this sort of thing? How wrong would it be to abandon my parish to search for orthopraxis? How many more times will I have to apologise to my children for the great Liturgical celebrations not actually being the things I tell them in advance that they are going to be?
07 April 2007
I follow St Melito of Sardis
Another hat tip to Jeffrey for finding this quiz: which Church Father are you? (I think I may have to rethink some of my answers!)
You’re St. Melito of Sardis! You have a great love of history and liturgy. You’re attached to the traditions of the ancients, yet you recognize that the old world — great as it was — is passing away. You are loyal to the customs of your family, though you do not hesitate to call family members to account for their sins. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers! |
An interview with the Cardinal
This week's Spectator publishes an interview with Cardinal MO'C by Stuart Reid. It isn't available online except to subscribers to the print edition. The first three paragraphs give a flavour of what is to come.
It is good on the position of the Church in society, particularly in a secularised country like the UK, though the banner on the cover - "Christians Need More Persecution" - is a bit misleading. It is odd on the question of the Just War, in that the Cardinal is quoted as believing that the principles of just war theory "are very, very difficult to fulfil now" and suggests that the Church is all but pacifist. It is ambiguous and, to my mind, a little patronising on the subject of the Tridentine Rite. And the author concludes by implying the Cardinal's support for Abbot Christopher Jamison as his successor.
The interview tells us rather more about the interviewer than his subject. Don't rush out to spend £2.95 on the Spectator just because of this article.
It is good on the position of the Church in society, particularly in a secularised country like the UK, though the banner on the cover - "Christians Need More Persecution" - is a bit misleading. It is odd on the question of the Just War, in that the Cardinal is quoted as believing that the principles of just war theory "are very, very difficult to fulfil now" and suggests that the Church is all but pacifist. It is ambiguous and, to my mind, a little patronising on the subject of the Tridentine Rite. And the author concludes by implying the Cardinal's support for Abbot Christopher Jamison as his successor.
The interview tells us rather more about the interviewer than his subject. Don't rush out to spend £2.95 on the Spectator just because of this article.
05 April 2007
The Director of "Into great Silence" interviewed
H/t to the Daily Eudemon for the link to this fascinating interview with Philip Gröning.
Define Neo-trad
Rather than post inspiring pictures of things mediaeval Jeffrey is celebrating "Get It Out Of Your System Day". (Note to self: try not to annoy Jeffrey.)
He quotes the definition of a neo-con as "a liberal who's been mugged by reality". This set me wondering what the definition of a neo-trad is. How about: "a liberal Catholic who was mugged by John Paul II"?
He quotes the definition of a neo-con as "a liberal who's been mugged by reality". This set me wondering what the definition of a neo-trad is. How about: "a liberal Catholic who was mugged by John Paul II"?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
