Shepherds and Spats

When I was ordained a deacon back in 1988, it was the custom to send the new cleric directly into parish ministry: I went to St Joseph's, Elm Grove, in Brighton. It wasn't a great success, I have to confess: there were too many things to get used to all at once and, looking back on it, I think I had a little version of what I have just gone through. But let's not go there; it all worked out fine in the end. There was a nice URC minister at the church which was then on the Lewes Road—I've forgotten his name, and his church has now been demolished—and I remember asking him how he exercised his ministry, how he spent his working hours, in other words. 'Oh, mostly in meetings' he cheerfully replied. 'That's what we do.' I was appalled, and very glad that I was a Catholic.

Some years later, in my second priestly curacy (at the Sacred Heart church in Hove), the Parish Priest, Fr Tony Churchill, remarked to me; 'make the most of your curacy: you get all the nice bits of being a priest, and very few of the horrid bits'. I remember his words, but at the time I didn't really believe him. It was frustrating wanting to do things my way (which, of course, would have been much better), but not being able to. And now, I know just how right he was.

During the last few months, I have done a lot of reflecting on my time here in the Valle Adurni. I asked myself how on earth I managed to give myself a breakdown when it didn't seem to me that I had done very much priestly work at all. Above all (and I came in for a lot of criticism for this), I did very little visiting, including of the sick. I made sure that they received the sacraments, of course, but it was a constant reproach to me that I could never summon up the energy to do what was necessary in that regard. Despite being a blogger, I am a very shy person, and it takes a great deal of effort to cross somebody's threshold. So where did all the energy go, then?

Well, mostly on collaborative ministry. Which meant meetings. I genuinely like working with others and sharing the decisions. But if I have to take responsibility for the decisions, I want always to be part of their making.

In the pages of The Tablet, and similar publications, we hear time and time again the plea for the laity to be given real power in the Church. Take this example for instance, a letter to the Holy Father (one of the famous 'Vatileaks' letters) from two very wealthy (they were the owners of C&A) Dutch Catholics, Hubert and Aldegonde Brenninkmeijer-Werhan. Nobody should doubt the historic commitment of the Brenninkmeijer family to the faith. Not only have they been outstandingly generous to Catholic causes, both personally, and via C&A, but have also provided many vocations; I have known, to some extent, one Brenninckmeyer who was a monk at Worth Abbey, and another who was the Provincial of the Dutch Jesuits. They seem to incline to the more 'liberal' end of things, as you might expect.

Your Holiness,
Peace be with you and the Church of Jesus entrusted to you… It is with a profound sense of sadness that we must once again note that even well-educated Catholics, Catholics all over Europe, are leaving the hierarchical Church in growing numbers but without abandoning their faith in Christ. Whatever the motives for such behaviour, I would like to recall the words of the prophet Jeremiah: "Woe to the shepherds that destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture" (Jer.23:1-4) Where are the shepherds that seriously follow the people entrusted to them without being fundamentalists, who with attentive and judicious love keep an eye on the whole flock and are able to lead and guide people in a modern way? Why are bishops appointed in Europe that neither have contact with the "flock", nor trust them?…

I think that maybe the Brenninkmeijers might think a little about these shepherds who follow their sheep: shepherds who do that tend not to have many sheep left. It was a bad analogy to choose, for in reality shepherds either lead their sheep from the front, or else drive them with dogs!

This cry for the laity to be given power in the Church is frequently raised as a solution to the shortage of priestly vocations. And the solution to such problems as priests having breakdowns. If the laity ran the practical side of things, made all the major decisions, the argument goes, the priest could concentrate on what he is ordained for.

The trouble is that this is not really what is meant. When a lay person says 'give the laity power', what he usually means is 'let me make the decisions', because the truth is that in a room of fifty lay people you will have at least thirty different opinions.

It's a familiar distortion; you can see it everywhere 'what young people want is……'. The most you can say is that 'some young people want………'. The above-mentioned Fr Churchill had a custom, when being confronted with the statement 'everybody is saying X', or replying 'name six who are saying that!' In reality, almost always what is meant is that the person saying it has said it to others who may have agreed with him, or they may not, having simply kept quiet to avoid an argument.

Horrific spats

Hence the creation of the meeting. In the end, the priest has to attend most of them, because it is in meetings that all the disagreements are thrashed out, and there is nobody who can mediate between often quite firmly held and expressed views other than the priest. When the priest is not present to exercise some leadership (even if he does not take the chair) things really can degenerate horribly. I am not suggesting in a patronising sort of way that the class riot when the teacher is out of the classroom, but simply that when there is no commonly-recognized authority, the strongest inevitably rise to the top, and it is they who will direct, often with a private agenda and minimal theological expertise, what is to be done. There are authoritarian priests, and sometimes these are resented (even justifiably resented). But authoritarian layfolk are resented far more. I have witnessed some horrific spats.


And since the priest must take ultimate responsibility for the decisions made in these meetings, he must be a part of their making, and sometimes head off trouble. Collaborating with the laity means just that, working alongside the laity. But some think that it means replacing the priest with the laity. That way lies disaster, in my opinion and experience.

The priest, then, who seriously wishes to engage with the laity and discuss things with them must be prepared to attend an awful lot of meetings. These will take a great deal of time and energy. The problem I experienced was, having been put in charge of two parishes with effectively three communities, the number of meetings was at least double what my predecessors had. And more than that, because the meetings were actually increased during the interregnums before I arrived. The existing parishes had been promised that they could retain full independence of operation even though canonically they would be merged into one new parish.

I think it was genuinely envisaged that because the laity would run things in each case, it wouldn't make more work for the priest. But for all the reasons I have outlined above, it didn't work like that.

Our parish secretary said to me one day that her husband absolutely refused to attend meetings, because they achieve very little, and take enormous effort to even do that. Suddenly, she added 'too right! I hate to think how many hours of meetings I have attended to do something that could have been settled with a couple of emails!'

That started me thinking, and in a later post I'll tell you the way my mind is working and get your feedback.

But for now, let's just make a couple of conclusions.

We need to ask what a priest is for. His time and energy are limited, and they need to be expended in the most fruitful way in accord with what is necessary.

To put it baldly: is it more important that I attend the sick, get involved with evangelizing the young, help people to learn to pray and to know what is important, to pray with and for the people of God, to make my prayer-life more than just Mass and private-and-rushed Breviary, to have time to study and to prepare my homilies carefully, that I go regularly into our schools, hospitals, nursing homes; that I spend a goodly time in the confessional &c. &c.

Or is it more important that I build a community that shares power, that is fulfilling for its members, where everybody feels they belong and have a say, that they enjoy themselves and love each other; where different people are able to express their gifts in a supportive and inclusive environment? &c. &c.

Well, both would be nice, but I am (just about) living evidence that you can't have both.

In the end, some consider that the job of the priest is either one or the other. In which case I choose the first, but am constrained to do the second. This has to change.

After all, being a priest is, first and foremost, about salvation, not about community-building. If I wanted to be a community-builder, I would have been a pub landlord, or a comedian, or a social worker. That is a true lay role, in my opinion.

Still hanging in there……

This morning, I celebrated two concurrent public Masses (at 9 and 11) just to see how it would go. Fine, is the answer. After the 11 I had a headache, but nothing worse. During the week, I celebrated publicly on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday.

This is wonderful. A month ago, only a month ago, I was seriously trying to cope with the prospect of perhaps never working as a priest in ministry again—not because that was what I wanted, but because that is where the illness had taken me. There are others in this situation, and, frankly, I have nothing but compassion and prayer for them. Having (nearly) been there, I know what it is like.

The only identifiable change in behaviour has been asking for, and benefitting from, your prayers.

God bless you.

And please pray for these others, whose names I cannot mention, for their sake.

And if you meet someone 'burnt-out', as they say, please be kind.

On the way

This is just to keep those of you still interested in touch. By the grace of God, my improvement, due to your prayers, has endured. I have been able to offer Mass publicly each Sunday (and twice this Sunday!) and even preach; also three times during the week I have celebrated. A month ago I could not have contemplated this. God bless those of you to whose prayers I owe this grace. On another matter, I have been experiencing problems with my broadband connection. Sky promised to fix it within ten days, but, a fortnight later, I am still without a connection, or any sort of information from Mr Murdoch. So I shall talk to Mr Branson and see whether his cables can do any better. That done, I hope that I shall be back on blogging form. This comes to you via Three 3G connection and an iPad.

The power of prayer

If ever I were to be tempted to doubt the efficacy of prayer, I have to say that in future I will remember that today I was able to celebrate a public Sunday Mass for the first time since January. It wasn't easy, but I got there, by God's grace. I plan to celebrate public Masses again three times this week. This is a dramatic change, and the only change in my behaviour has been to write the last post and (because they proved no use) to reduce my meds. God bless and reward those of you who have prayed for me. I will offer my Mass tomorrow for your intentions.

Nut Case

Andrew J's comment in the last post has alerted me to the fact that it is about time I came clean. In January I suffered a breakdown, and since then have been unable to celebrate any but the quietest Masses, and certainly no Sunday public celebrations. I have been put on a variety of medications and doses, but the illness has been susceptible to none of them. Time alone can do the stuff, and I am getting there, but it is dreadfully slow in working.

Please keep me in your prayers. I will think about posting more in the future about this business and how it all came to pass.

Stabbings in the Curia

Tradition has it that Julius Caesar was stabbed on the steps of the original Curia, the Senate-House. They say now that it was in the theatre of Pompey. But the modern curia seems to have more than enough stabbings to make up for the change of venue. It's nothing new; things have been building up for some time.

An Italian friend of mine, (not himself anything to do with the Curia) has a close friend who, some fifteen or more years ago, was made a fairly high member of one of the curial offices. He discovered another curial cleric with his hand in the till. Scandalized, he told the thief that he was going to report the man to the authorities. The thief was not fazed much, but said in return 'that's okay; it's easy to find something better'. The report was made, and a month or two later the thief was consecrated an archbishop and a nuncio to a large country. And no, I'm not referring to the Nuncio to the US. This happened several years ago, under Pope John Paul.

It was my belief that Pope Benedict would sort this out; indeed, it was well known that the Curia was getting out of hand under JPII, and I thought that the election of a curial cardinal would be precisely because he would understand how the system worked and, crucially, would know where all the bodies were buried. And as we are now discovering, in some cases there were literal bodies. But, as we have discovered, Pope Benedict has concentrated on other things. Not that I'm complaining; this Pontificate has been one of the most profound and fruitful in hundred of years, imho.

But there remains the problem of the Curia. Messori has said, and he probably has a point, that the real problem is sheer mediocrity. There is also the fact that some curial clerics are on a deliberate career path; the Curia is a way to become a Monsignor before you're thirty-five and an Archbishop before you're forty-five. Some of these priests have no intention of doing any actual pastoral work. Though the quick ascension to the purple or scarlet from the ranks tends to work only if you're Italian; for non-Italian curial officials there tends to be a glass ceiling, I have been told, and higher non-Italian clergy tend to be parachuted in from outside, rather than working their way up.

And here we have a real rub. I have known a few priests in the Curia, good men without question, good pastoral priests, and men who were there, on the whole, reluctantly. One commented to me about how he would sit in his office and type a few letters. He had to be there, but there was nearly nothing to do. Being a good priest, he found one or two pastoral outlets in Rome, but most of his colleagues didn't bother. Another priest friend commented to me about the sheer loneliness of the curial life. There is no sense of community in the big convitti and case de clero where most of these priests live. They get up in the morning, celebrate Mass, eat breakfast, head off to work, come home, eat supper and spend the evening in front of the television. There are none of the joys of priestly ministry, of seeing the faith on the face of a child as he or she receives first Communion, of the happiness when a young protégé first discerns the call to serving the Lord in the priesthood or religious life. There are no warm embraces of families, no profound moments of helping people to die well, no joy at repentant sinners returning to grace...

I think that there are many good priests in the Curia who truly see their work as a self-sacrificing vocation within a vocation. They pray, they celebrate Mass, they hear confessions sometimes, and they see their work as a hidden one in the service of the Gospel. That is how it should be, if this is a suitable job for priests. But perhaps now is the time we should ask ourselves that question.

If this is to continue to be a job for priests, I would suggest:
• That nobody should be appointed to the Curia unless he had served several years in pastoral work.
• That unless he was going to be promoted, he should serve no more than five years, and then should return to his diocese or congregation.
• That unless he was going to be promoted to the next rank, he should serve no more than ten years.
• Ditto, twenty.
• That the (in my opinion, scandalous) legal fiction of creating these office-johnnies bishops stop as soon as it can be managed. Only the Cardinals bishops should be bishops, with real pastoral responsibilities in the suburbicarian sees.
• That the office of Protonotary Apostolic should be the highest title given to curial clergy.
• If they must continue to be made cardinals, it should not involve consecration as a bishop, and should be an honorary red hat, with no right to participate in conclave, and with the scarlet relinquished upon retirement.

But really, would it not be better if the work were conducted by some societies of lay Apostolic life such as Das Werk or even Opus Dei?

Reconciliations

While praying earnestly for the reconciliation of the SSPX, let us also not forget the Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer on Papa Stronsay, who, reconciled quite a while ago, are still awaiting a regularization of their situation. Their patience in adversity has been edifying.

In their own words

If anyone would like to know why the Vatican is investigating American religious sisters, and wonders whether it is being a bit heavy-handed, they might care to read what some sisters say about it themselves. If you have the stomach, you can read the whole thing here.

"This latest mandate to reform the LCWR—indeed to put it out of business—has been in the works for years. In a process that began in 2008, the “doctrinal assessment,” as it is known, was aimed at investigating the “serious doctrinal problems which affect many in Consecrated Life.” In the face of wars in several parts of the world, ecological crises throughout the planet, and severe economic injustice, it is morally embarrassing that the Vatican chooses to spend its time on such trivia. But given that the result is aimed at some of the very people whose lives are dedicated to peace making, Earth enhancement, and economic sharing, it is worth clarifying what is at stake.

The crux of the matter, as it were, is that most of the nuns, like many Catholics, have matured beyond the Vatican’s imaginings. The notion that postmodern Catholics assent to “the doctrine of the faith that has been revealed by God in Jesus Christ, presented in written form in the divinely inspired Scriptures, and handed on in the Apostolic Tradition under the guidance of the Church’s Magisterium,” (or, simply, the fathers know best) is simply ludicrous."


The author is one [Sister] Mary Hunt, and it must now be clear that she is not just a post-Modern, but a post-Christian. 


And as for the cheap shot about males and sex abuse, how about this?

Thank you

Thank you to Fr Z for the picture, but also to Miles (especially) and to Fr Terry, Sister Frances and Sister Breda, Deacon Richard, (nearly-Deacon) Stephen, and all the others who led a wonderful vocations evening in our parish last week.

Ecumenism

I'm glad that the channels are still open, but the Vespers at San Gregorio today, at which both the Holy Father and the Archbishop of Canterbury assisted, produced two homilies in which neither had anything to say to the other, except polite acknowledgments.
The Holy Father. (in Italian)
The Archbishop of Canterbury.
Though, perhaps, in both bishops preaching about the witness of the Camaldolesi Benedictines, rather than self-consciously preaching about 'ecumenism', maybe rather more solid foundations are being laid.

Before Mass

I've been digging around in the Sarum books again, and have found this wonderful admonition attributed (sadly, doubtless inaccurately) to St Augustine. It is part of the preparation before Mass, a series of useful bits of advice to the pastor. Note particularly the verse beginning Estote breviloqui: excellent advice for those who tend to preach far too long.

And I wonder if St Augustine had the tune of Good King Wenceslaus going around in his head when he wrote this?

Incipit Dictamen beati Augustini de regimine sacerdotum

Viri venerabiles, sacerdotes Dei,

præcones altissimi, lucernæ fidei, 

caritatis radio fulgentes et spei, 

auribus percipite verba oris mei.

Vos in sanctuario Dei deservitis; 

vos vocavit palmites Christus vera vitis;

cavete ne steriles aut inanes sitis, 

si cum vero stipite vivere cupitis.

Vos estis catholicæ legis protectores, 

sal terræ, lux hominum, ovium pastores, 

muri domus Israel, morum correctores, 

judices Ecclesiæ, gentium doctores. 

Si cadat protectio legis, lex labetur; 

si sal evanuerit, in quo salietur? 

nisi lux appareat, via nescietur: 

nisi pastor vigilet, ovile frangetur. 

Vos existis vineam Dei propagare, 

quam doctrinæ rivulis debetis rigare, 

spinas atque tribulos procul extirpare, 

ut radices fidei possint germinare. 

Vos estis in area boves triturantes, 

prudenter a palea grana separantes. 

Vos habent in speculo legem ignorantes 

laici qui fragiles sunt et inconstantes. 

Quicquid vident laici vobis displicere 

sibi procul dubio dicunt non licere. 

Quicquid vos in opere vident adimplere 

credunt esse licitum et culpa carere.

Cum pastores ovium sitis constituti 

non estote desides sicut canes muti, 

vobis non deficiant latratus veriti

lupus rapax invidet ovium saluti. 

Grex fidelis duplici cibo sustinetur; 

corpore Dominico, quo salus augetur, 

sermonis compendio, quod discrete detur,

mundano cibario ne periclitetur. 

Ovibus tenemini vestris prædicare, 

sed quid, quibus, qualiter, ubi, quando, quare,

debetis sollicite præconsiderare; 

ne quis in officio dicat vos errare. 

Spectat ad officium vestræ dignitatis, 

gratiæ petentibus dona dare gratis, 

nec cuiquam fidei munera vendatis, 

incursuros gregibus lepra vos fiatis.

Gratis eucharistiam plebi ministrate, 

gratis confitemini, gratis baptizate; 

ut gratis accepistis, sic et gratis date; 

solum id quod fuerit vestrum conservate.

Vestra conversatio sit religiosa, 

munda conscientia, virtus virtuosa, 

regularis habitus a sit honorosa,

nulla vos coinquinet labes criminosa. 

Nullus fastus intima premat vestræ mentis,

gravis sit intuitus, habitus sit testis, 

nihil vos illaqueet curis inhonestis, 

quibus claves traditæ sunt regni cælestis.

Estote breviloqui, ne vos ad reatum 

protrahat loquacitas, nutrix vanitatum; 

verbum quod proponitis sit abbreviatum, 

nam in multiloquio non deest peccatum.

Estote benevoli, sobrii, prudentes, 

justi, casti, simplices et compatientes, 

hospitales, humiles, subditos docentes, 

consulentes miseros, pravos corrigentes.

Utinam sic gerere curam pastoralem 

possitis, et ducere vitam spiritalem, 

ut cum exueritis chlamydem carnalem 

induat vos Dominus stolam æternalem.

Amen.

1998

In all the discussions regarding the new translation of the Missal, one item that frequently crops up is the discarded Missal of 1998.

What Fr Z calls 'bad old ICEL' worked very hard for several years to produce a new version of the Missal which went on to be approved by various episcopal conferences, but was then rejected in Rome.

Since the publication of our new 2011 Missal, many (especially on the Pray Tell site) have compared the 2011 version unfavourably to the unpublished 1998. Those who take this line usually have an advantage over mere mortals such as me, in that they have had experience, or at least sight of, the 1998 Missal, which has been kept as a jealously-guarded secret.
Some of the arguments go a bit like this:

Fred: I quite like the 2011 Missal.
Harry: Well you're clearly not a liturgist, Fred! Now, the Missal of 1998, which we spilt blood over, was far superior until some Dark Forces in Rome proved that they knew nothing about liturgy by rejecting it out of hand. All that work, binned!
Tom: Yes, Harry, you're right. What chance did we get to experiment with the 2011? We weren't even consulted, and we know about liturgy. The 1998 was tried out in all sorts of normative groups, ordinary parish situations, like the St Gregory Society, like the Bishops' Conference LGBT awareness Caucus. Every word was pored over, weighed, agonized over. And now this Mgr Moroney can sketch some ideas on the back of an envelope, and because he has friends among the Dark Forces, can have it imposed on the whole English-speaking world!
Fred: But I still like the 2011. It's a lot better than the 1975.
Harry: Hm; discuss. I don't agree; though I think that the 1975 certainly needed updating. It had far too much sexist language in it, and it is true that a lot of the imagery had been ironed out. That is just why the 1998 is so good.
Fred. I still like the 2011.
Tom: That's because you haven't seen the 1998. You are speaking out of ignorance. I have seen, used, the 1998, and it is simply wonderful. In fact, I was one of the writers.
Fred: Well, would you give me some examples?
Tom and Harry together: No!
Fred: No?
Harry: Certainly not! It is forbidden for non-initiates to see. You must simply take our word that it a much better translation. You must remain in ignorance until you are Enlightened by us.
Fred: Well, how do I become an initiate?
Tom: You have to become a Liturgist. You must go to music days, join the Society of St Gregory, write bitter letters to the press, join What If We Just Said No, take the oaths of secrecy.
and so on.

Well, all that changed for me this morning, because I found a link where you can download the whole 1998 Missal to your computer in pdf form. The veil of the temple has been torn, and all can see inside where, in my opinion, the Emperor is prancing around without many clothes on.

Don't get me wrong. Genuinely I can sympathize with those who worked for years on the 1998 Missal. It must have been galling and disheartening to have the thing rejected when so many had given it the green light.

But it really does belong to a different era. Essentially, the Ordinary is that of 1975 with some tweaks and corrections here and there. EP4 is substantially rewritten, and is actually quite nice, but the text strains painfully to be inclusive. There is an alternative version of the Our Father; the Lamb of God is substantially altered to make it match up to the frequently-used 'Communion-Song' style; quasi-litanic in form. In the rubrics, 'hostia' is rendered 'consecrated bread'; calix is 'cup' and 'patena' is 'plate':

The priest genuflects and takes some of the consecrated bread and the cup and,
extending them toward the people, says one of the following invitations:

After the completion of communion or after Mass, the deacon or another minister,
or, if there is no other minister, the priest, cleanses the plate over the cup and
then the cup itself, either at the side table or at the side of the altar.

Ugh.

Taking inspiration (I expect) from the Anglican liturgy, the acclamations after the Consecration have priestly lead-ins that differ according to which particular acclamation the celebrant wishes the congregation to use, losing in most cases the 'Mysterium Fidei' connection.

The collects aren't bad, actually, much better than 1975, and actually some of the ones I have looked at are preferable to the rather tortured ones in the 2011 Missal. You can find some side-by-side comparisons here, on the What If We Just Said Stuff The 2011 Missal site (useful; though it would have been more useful to have had the Latin alongside).

1998's texts and choices seem very much to come out of the Society of St Gregory school of liturgy. It really seemed, back in the 1990s, to be the way that liturgy was going, so the rejection of the Missal, and the publication of Liturgiam Authenticam must have seemed a real slap in the face. And you can see where comments such as 'Pope Benedict is not a liturgist' have come from.

I'm very glad to have been able to look at the 1998 Missal now. But if I had the choice, I have to say that I would stay with the 2011; our new translation isn't all joy for me—I do find it tortured from time to time, and sometimes inaccurate (simili modo, for instance, does not mean 'in a similar way' [though see the comments]), but in my view, on balance, it's much better than the 1998, and light years better than the 1975.

Good stuff

This is a lot of good stuff from Peter Kreeft.

Ideas are more precious than diamonds. The three most precious ideas I have ever discovered all concern the love of God.

None of them is original. But every one is revolutionary. None of them came from me. But all of them came to me with sudden force and fire: the “aha!” experience, the “eureka!” experience. They were all realizations, not just beliefs.

1. There Is Only “One Thing Necessary.” The first happened when I was about six or seven, I think. It was the first important conscious discovery I ever made, and I don’t think I have ever had a more mature or wiser thought than that one. I remember to this day exactly where I was when it hit me: riding north on Haledon Avenue between Sixth and Seventh Streets in Paterson, New Jersey after Sunday morning church with my parents. Isn’t it remarkable how we remember exactly where we were when great events happen that change our lives?

I had learned some things about God and Jesus, about heaven, and about good and evil in church and Sunday school. Like most children at that age, I was a bit confused and overwhelmed by it all, especially by what this great being called God expected of me. I felt a little insecure, I guess, about not knowing and a little guilty about not doing everything that I was supposed to be doing. Then all of a sudden the sun shone through the fog. I saw the one thing necessary that made sense and order out of everything else.

I checked out my insight with my father, my most reliable authority. He was an elder in the church and (much more important) a good and wise man. “Dad, everything they teach us in church and Sunday school, all the stuff we’re supposed to learn from the Bible — it all comes down to only one thing, doesn’t it? I mean, if we only remember the one most important thing all the time, then all the other things will be O.K., right?”

He was rightly skeptical. “What one thing? There are a lot of things that are important.”

“I mean, I should just always ask what God wants me to do and then do it. That’s all, isn’t it?”

Wise men know when they’ve lost an argument. “You know, I think you’re right, son. That’s it.”

I had perceived — via God’s grace, not my own wit, surely — that since God is love, we must therefore love God and love whatever God loves. I now knew that if we turn to the divine conductor and follow his wise and loving baton — which is his will, his Word — then the music of our life will be a symphony.

2. The Way to Happiness Is Self-forgetful Love. A second realization follows closely upon this one. That is, it follows logically. But it did not follow closely in time for me. Instead, it took half a lifetime to appreciate, through a million experiments, every one of which proved the same result: that the way to happiness is self-forgetful love and the way to unhappiness is self-regard, self-worry, and the search for personal happiness. Our happiness comes to us only when we do not seek for it. It comes to us when we seek others’ happiness instead.

It is an embarrassingly common lesson to take so long to learn, but most of us are incredibly slow learners here. We constantly try other ways, thinking that perhaps the happiness that did not come to us the last time through selfishness will do so next time. It never does. The truth is blindingly clear, but we are clearly blind.

The secret of love is not hidden, for “God is love,” and God is not hidden. God said through his prophet Isaiah: “I did not speak in secret, / in a land of darkness; / I did not say to the offspring of Jacob, / ‘Seek me in chaos.’ / I the LORD speak the truth, / I declare what is right” (Is 45:19).

Of course God’s secret plans, which we do not need to know, are hidden. And God’s infinite nature, which finite minds cannot know, is hidden. But the thing that we need to know, God does not hide from us. He offers it to us publicly and freely. Jesus invited prospective disciples to “come and see” (In 1:39). We are told by the apostle Paul to “test everything; hold fast what is good” (1 Thes 5:21).

This lesson is so well known that even a pagan like Buddha knew it profoundly, or at least its negative half. His “second noble truth” is that the source of all unhappiness and suffering (dukkha) is selfishness (tanha). All who teach the opposite—that selfishness is the way to happiness—are unhappy souls. “By their fruits you shall know them,” as Jesus tells us. Who are the happiest people on earth? People like Mother Teresa and her nuns who have nothing, give everything, and “rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4).

3. “In Everything God Works for Good with Those Who Love Him.” A third shattering realization was that Romans 8:28 was literally true: “In everything God works for good with those who love him.” This is surely the most astonishing verse in the Bible, for it certainly doesn’t look as if all things work for good. What awful things our lives contain! But if God, the all-powerful Creator and Designer and Provider of our lives, is 100 percent love, then it necessarily follows, as the night the day, that everything in his world, from birth to death, from kisses to slaps, from candy to cancer, comes to us out of God’s active or permissive love.

It is incredibly simple and perfectly reasonable. It is only our adult complexity that makes it look murky. As G.K. Chesterton says, life is always complicated for someone without principles. Here is the shining simplicity: if God is total love, then everything he wills for me must come from his love and be for my good. For that what love is, the willing of the beloved’s good. And if this God of sheer love is also omnipotent and can do anything he wills, then it follows that all things must work together for my ultimate good.

Not necessarily for my immediate good, for short-range harm may be the necessary road to long-range good. And not necessarily for my apparent good, for appearances may be deceiving. Thus suffering does not seem good. But it can always work for my real and ultimate good. Even the bad things I and others do, though they do not come from God, are allowed by God because they are included in his plan. You can’t checkmate, corner, surprise, or beat him. “He’s got the whole world in his hands,” as the old gospel chorus tells us. And he’s got my whole life in his hands, too. He could take away any evil — natural, human, or demonic — like swatting a fly. He allows it only because it works out for our greater good in the end, just as it did with Job.

In fact, every atom in the universe moves exactly as it does only because omnipotent Love designed it so. Dante was right: it is “the love that moves the sun and all the stars.” This is not poetic fancy but sober, logical fact. Therefore, the most profound thing you can say really is this simple children’s grace for meals: “God is great and God is good; let us thank him for our food. Amen!” I had always believed in God’s love and God’s omnipotence. But once I put the two ideas together, saw the unavoidable logical conclusion (Rom 8:28), and applied this truth to my life, I could never again see the world the same way. If God is great (omnipotent) and God is good (loving), then everything that happens is our spiritual food; and we can and should thank him for it. Yet how often we fail to recognize and appreciate this simple but profound truth.

These are, I think, the three most profound ideas I have ever had. However, there is one idea that I have heard that I think is even more profound. It is Karl Barth’s answer to the questioner who asked him, “Professor Barth, you have written dozens of great books, and many of us think you are the greatest theologian in the world. Of all your many ideas, what is the most profound thought you have ever had?” Without a second’s hesitation, the great theologian replied, “Jesus loves me.”

Domine, non sum dignus……

You may remember that I bemoaned the lack of enthusiasm for the Sacrament of Penance in the Valle Adurni. Last weekend, Diaconus in Valle decided to address it head-on. This is what he had to say:

“What have you given up for Lent?” That’s a common question at this time, one that is still quite common even amongst non-Catholics or even amongst people of no faith where it may be more related to a slimming routine!

The other question might be “What are you doing extra for Lent?” And both questions are good and valid; it can do something good for us to go without a luxury or two as a reminder of Lent; it will certainly do us and others good if we can undertake some charitable action in these next few weeks.

However I want to propose something to you that is not really, or at least should not be, something extra – and that is to renew or rediscover the Sacrament of Reconciliation or Confession. Now I can sense the silent and inward groans, “Oh no, he’s not going to bang on about that again, is he?” Well yes I am, but I hope in a way that may cause you to think about the Sacrament in a positive way again.

One of the reasons that the practise of going to regular Confession has lapsed over the last 30 or 40 years is that we have lost the sense of connection to the Eucharist, so let’s concentrate on that first.

As Catholics we have as a central tenet of our faith, the belief in the Doctrine of Transubstantiation and the Real Presence. We believe that at the words of the Consecration, the bread and wine are changed into the Real Body and Blood of Our Saviour, Jesus Christ. The bread and wine keep their material form but are also the Body and Blood; at that moment Jesus is truly present on the altar and we receive Him in Holy Communion. Afterwards the Body of Christ is reserved in the Tabernacle and we genuflect each time we pass in front of it as a sign of our belief and reverence.

Someone once said that if as Catholics we truly, really, passionately believed in the Real Presence then when we came to the doors of the church we would throw ourselves down on our faces and crawl into church on our hands and knees, not daring to look up at Almighty God in front of us! It’s a thought isn’t it – do we truly believe?

And the reason for our reverence, our genuflections and so on, is that we acknowledge our unworthiness, our sinfulness, our need for forgiveness. The church teaches that we should only receive the Lord in Holy Communion if we are in a state of grace having reconciled ourselves to God and one another. So how do we do that? Well, I am sure most people will say we do that when we recite the Confiteor at the beginning of Mass.

But Jesus went so much further than that. He instituted the Sacrament of Reconciliation when he conferred on the Apostles through the Holy Spirit, the power of forgiveness of sins. “Those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven in heaven, those whose sins you retain, they are retained in heaven”. This power given to the priest by his ordination, passed down to him by the Apostolic Succession, is not given to you or me. Jesus was, as always, very clear – forgiveness of sins is achieved through genuine repentance, prayer and the confession of those sins to the Almighty Father through the words spoken to the priest and given to us by the specific words of Absolution spoken by the priest – it is at that point that the power of the Holy Spirit works through the words and gestures of the priest, and then we are forgiven.

Then we enter a state of Grace, a state a little more worthy to contemplate entering into the presence of the Lord here in his church, in front of Him reserved in the Tabernacle; a state a little more worthy to contemplate receiving Him in Holy Communion.

Many Catholics will regard the reception of Holy Communion at Mass as their right, an automatic action that is always part of attending the Mass. However that is to lose sight of the connection between our state of Grace and whether we are worthy to receive; to lose sight of the connection between the Sacraments of Reconciliation and of Holy Communion. Always, Forgiveness first, then Communion second.

So, Confession is not the optional extra it has sadly become for many, it is a vital and life-giving prerequisite to our full and active participation in the Mass and it should be part of our regular devotional routine.

If you regularly attend Confession, than make it part of your Lenten preparation to meditate on the connection between it and your regular reception of Holy Communion.

If you occasionally attend Confession, then make it part of your Lenten preparation to resolve to use the Sacrament more regularly in Lent and beyond.

If you rarely or never attend Confession, then use this Lent to try again. As we use this season to prepare for the great services of the Easter Triduum and celebration of the Resurrection of Christ, use the Sacrament to honestly examine your life and answer to Almighty God the question “what kind of person am I truly?”

…

Do you believe in the Real Presence, can you honestly say to Almighty God; I am ready and worthy to receive you in Holy Communion?

Nuts in a box

A very few nuts in a box will, when shaken, produce a lot of noise. In other words, the noise mustn't be taken for an indication that there are a lot of nuts in the box. Cristina Odone (h/t Archbishop Cranmer) has pointed out that the National Secular Society can boast only about 7000 members, about the same as the British Sausage Appreciation Society.

Defining marriage

I have been wanting for some time to produce a post on the 'gay marriage' thing, and today I see that James Preece has written (in his characteristically more direct language) more or less what I wanted to say, and with great thoroughness.

In brief, the problem is not that gay people want to get married; it is that they don't want to get married. What they want is an opportunity to celebrate their relationship in a public and enjoyable way, and have it recognized as equally valuable to a similar heterosexual relationship.

In one sense, they have a point, because most heterosexual relationships are not, except in a rather general sense, marriages. Marriage involves all sorts of things, fidelity, chastity (in the strict sense of the word), sacrificial love, openness to children, permanence: it is a lot more than a public celebration of an affectionate and possibly (increasingly, probably) temporary sexual relationship.

The troubles suffered by Blondpidge (here and here) at the moment for a short while shook my resolve on the subject of artificial contraception. But the gay marriage thing has strengthened it again, and much more powerfully.

The difficulty is that the battle for marriage was all-but lost for society not with civil partnerships or the forthcoming (and pretty well sure to happen) resolution on gay marriage. Rather, it was when purely recreational sex became first possible and then socially acceptable. And for the vast majority of people (including so many Catholics) anything else would be unthinkable.

And what do we do about it? Find another name for what we believe marriage to be? 'The Sacrament of Holy Matrimony', perhaps? And what if, as seems to be happening in certain of the United States, we come to be required to officiate at these ceremonies in our churches? And don't say it won't happen, because there are people who are very determined that it will.

I guess all we could do is to suspend the requirement for Catholics to marry in church (it isn't required by Divine law); let them go to the registry office, and then come to the church for a nuptial Mass and blessing. Then we simply say to all comers, of whatever sexuality 'we don't do marriages here'.

What a sad state of affairs.

But please don't simply let it happen without at least making a token resistance; it is really important to sign this petition arranged by the Coalition for Marriage.

Viennese Whirl

His eminence Christoph Maria Michael Hugo Damian Peter Adalbert Cardinal Graf von Schönborn, the third to be created Cardinal in his aristocratic family, is a man with an unenviable job to which he needs to bring all the diplomatic skills he can find in his armoury.

For a start, his two immediate predecessors hardly left him a smooth playing-field. The late (and some would say great) Cardinal König was one of the powerful liberal champions at Vatican II and continued to favour the cause with intelligence and vigour until his death in 2004 at the advanced age of 98, having governed the diocese of Vienna from 1956 until 1985. He was a great champion of Ostpolitik, the policy of detente with the Communist East, and this led him to welcome the election of Pope John Paul II, something he was later to regret when it became apparent to him that liberalism was going to be increasingly placed on the defensive. He became increasingly critical, even while in office, of the Pope, for, as he was said to see it, turning his back on the Council. He continued until his death to subscribe to The Tablet and correspond there. To his annoyance, his favoured candidate was not selected to succeed him; instead was chosen the disastrous Hans Hermann Groer, a man who was said by one writer (Hubertus Czernin, Das Buch Groer) to have abused up to two thousand young men.

Improbable as that figure might sound, people seem prepared to believe it, and so Groer is understandably now a focus of ecclesiastical hatred in Austria, and his perceived conservatism served only to persuade more to the other side, remembering the 'good old days' of Cardinal König, who remained alive throughout Groer's tenure of the office and this fact alone no doubt made life no easier for his successor. Rumours still abound in Vienna of Groer's partiality for women's clothing and handsome young men; whatever the truth may be (and to the end Groer denied everything) his memory is a painful one. A couple of years ago Cardinal Schönborn let slip (in the way he does) that the then Cardinal Ratzinger had wanted to have a proper investigation of the Groer scandal, but Cardinal Sodano used his influence with Pope John Paul to prevent it.

Schönborn followed an academic career, studying in the 1970s under Professor Ratzinger at Regensburg, his scholarly work culminating in his crucial role in the preparation of the new Catechism of the Catholic Church. In some ways the publication of the Catechism was a turning point in the history of the Church; although certain people believe it to be theologically deficient (from one perspective or its diametrical opposite), the overwhelming majority consider it a welcome restatement of the Catholic faith for the modern era. The English-speaking world has particular reason to be grateful to Schönborn for his assistance in ensuring that the new Catechism would not employ politically-correct language, but would rather seek to be accurate in the first place. This was almost the beginning of the fight-back that was to culminate in the publication of the 2011 Roman Missal which, for all its faults, is such an improvement on its predecessor.

It was not surprising that Schönborn became a bishop; he was consecrated in Rome in 1991, and appointed coadjutor of Vienna in 1995 in the shadow of the Groer debacle, succeeding to the see in the same year.

This is where it gets sticky. I think that Schönborn has had the most difficult innings of any Archbishop of Vienna, and quite possibly of any Western European see in the last couple of centuries.* The memory of Cardinal König and the contrasting example of Cardinal Groer served to give extraordinary impetus to the liberal cause in Austria. Schönborn in his pontificate has had to ride the bronco and try to hold together and if possible pacify a church threatening imminent melt-down. In order to do so he has had to be all things to all men; this is a very difficult thing to achieve. My experience is partial, but I have to acknowledge that although you will find him attacked from all sides on the internet (participating in a strange liturgical goings-on here, known to be in the intimate circle of the Pope there), those whom I have met who actually know him acknowledge the greatest respect for him—and these include a (very) liberal parish priest in Vienna and some (very) conservative Religious. And, more to the point, both parties are convinced he is on their side. In fact, I'm sure that the fingers of some readers may already be twitching to identify in the comments box this or that dreadful event at which Schönborn was present. **

Now, this might be duplicity, of course, but it might also be simple aristocratic diplomacy and good nature. It is the nature of the products of posh schools to be at ease in company, to speak to high and low alike with equal affability. And, simply, he seems to be a nice man.

He also seems to have some good ideas. Last week I met one of his seminarians; this young man had the highest regard for his Archbishop, who visits the Seminary almost every week, and makes it a kind of home from home. Each year he, personally, takes his seminarians on holiday for a fortnight, and in his company they have had access to remarkable sights and places. In other words, he understands what so many do not, that the relationship that a bishop has with his priests is a vital one, and if this present crisis in the Austrian Church can only be healed by personal charm, well that is better than schism. The Church has used it in the past to great effect (I think of Cardinal Consalvi after the Congress of Vienna) and it might serve well now.

We are all well aware of that group of priests in Austria who want to revolutionize the Church right now. I was interested to read in this week's Tablet that Schönborn seems to have negotiated their demands down to near-moderation. He seems to have made them feel heard and valued and all those other things, and to be well on the way to defusing a potentially highly explosive situation.

Which is all to say that though I have said in the past that what the Church really needs is passionate defenders of the faith, sometimes diplomats have their role, too.

* Well, okay, I suppose that the Archbishop of Paris who was murdered during the communes might have found things more difficult. And many of the Spanish hierarchy in the 1930s. and…………Look, permit me a little artistic licence!
** And there is his puzzling attitude to the business at Medugorje. I can't account for that.

What the Council really meant

Don't miss this remarkable account from a father of Vatican II. Thank you, Shane.

The TAC

The world of the Traditional Anglican Communion is not well known among Catholics. Broadly, most of its members are former Anglicans—former, that is from the point of view of Canterbury. Members of the TAC would argue that the Anglican Communion has left them, rather than the other way around. They try to maintain what, in their view, Anglicanism had been, and ought always to be. In particular, they reject liberalism in doctrine (women clergy and homosexual cohabitation in particular), expressed in the 1977 Affirmation of St Louis, and liturgically tend to the Catholic end of the candle. Historically they have leant Romewards, but have been keen to maintain their particular Anglican practices and not simply become part of the Roman Rite.
The TAC is not huge: formed in 1991, it has a worldwide membership of about 400,000 spread over the various continents, being stronger in Australia and North America than elsewhere. In England it is very small, this being probably due to the difficulty of any dissenting congregation retaining ownership of their church buildings. It has few substantial buildings, perhaps the most significant being the Church of St Agatha in Portsmouth.

There are also other 'Continuing Anglican' bodies, mostly connected ideologically in some way from the Affirmation of St Louis, such as the Anglican Catholic Church; some of these groups speak to each other, some don't. Most of them are uninterested in the Ordinariate scheme until Rome has repented of all her errors.

Early on in its history the TAC signalled to Rome their wish to continue dialogue in the spirit of ARCIC, and the approach was welcomed warmly if cautiously there. The contacts have continued and indeed intensified under the leadership of the present primate, Archbishop John Hepworth, an Australian (the TAC is more numerous there than in many other places).

John Hepworth is an interesting man. A former Catholic priest, he joined the Anglican Church of Australia in 1976 and married twice. Recently he has claimed to have been raped by (Catholic) priests when in his twenties (claims which some dispute, arguing that a tall and burly young man can hardly have been entirely uncooperative in the alleged assault). This sad incident, however one looks at it, has not deflected Hepworth from his biggest scheme, to lead the TAC into full communion with the Catholic Church. He has passionate defenders even among those who will not be following him into the Ordinariate, such as the TAC priest and interesting blogger Fr Anthony Chadwick.

As for what Hepworth stands for, you can read about it his own words here.

In October 2007 there was a meeting at the above-mentioned St Agatha's church in Portsmouth. There the assembled clergy of greater or lesser dignity signed a document known as the Portsmouth Declaration, which takes the form of a petition to the Holy See for admission to full communion. This they consider to be the most significant step in the process that was to culminate in the Ordinariate Scheme. The declaration was signed on the altar during a celebration of the Eucharist by a large number of clerics, including some 'mainstream' Anglicans. It's a long document, and contains the following extraordinary passage:

The Bishops and Vicars-General of this Communion, now meeting in Plenary Session in the Church of Saint Agatha, Portsmouth, England, on the Feast of Theresa of the Child Jesus and in the days following, have reached the following mind which they have asked their Primate and delegates to report to the Holy See:
1. We accept the ministry of the Bishop of Rome, the successor of Peter, which is a ministry of teaching and discerning the faith and a “perpetual and visible principle and foundation of unity” and understand this ministry is essential to the Church founded by Jesus Christ. We accept that this ministry, in the words of the late John Paul II in Ut Unum Sint, is to “ensure the unity of all the Churches”. We understand his words in the same Letter when he explains to the separated churches that the Bishop of Rome “when circumstances require it, speaks in the name of all the Pastors in communion with him. He can also – under very specific conditions clearly laid down by the First Vatican Council – declare ex cathedra that a certain doctrine belongs to the deposit of faith. By thus bearing witness to the truth, he serves unity”. We understand that, as bishops separated from communion with the Bishop of Rome, we are among those for whom Jesus prayed before his death “that they may be completely one”, and that we teach and define matters of faith and morals in a way that is, while still under the influence of Divine Grace, of necessity more tenuously connected to the teaching voice of catholic bishops throughout the world.
2.We accept that the Church founded by Jesus Christ subsists most perfectly in the churches in communion with the See of Peter, to whom (after the repeated protestation of his love for Jesus) and to whose successors, our Divine Master gave the duty of feeding the lambs and the sheep of his flock.
3. We accept that the most complete and authentic expression and application of the catholic faith in this moment of time is found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church and its Compendium, which we have signed together with this Letter as attesting to the faith we aspire to teach and hold. 
4. Driven by these realizations, which we must now in good conscience bring to the attention of the Holy See, we seek a communal and ecclesial way of being Anglican Catholics in communion with the Holy See, at once treasuring the full expression of catholic faith and treasuring our tradition within which we have come to this moment. We seek the guidance of the Holy See as to the fulfillment of these our desires and those of the churches in which we have been called to serve. 

As a position document, this passage is truly remarkable, and it caused something of a stir. The TAC may have been small, but it had boldly seized the Unity initiative and was clearly in the vanguard of the Anglo-Papal movement. Before too long, Rome had responded with Anglicanorum Coetibus. It was a good moment for the TAC which was seen to be punching above its weight. But then things went slow, and the first group to be set up was in England and had nothing to do with the TAC. In fact some began to say that Anglicanorum Coetibus was for the benefit of 'real' Anglicans, not 'continuing' ones.

The trouble is that Archbishop Hepworth had counted his chickens before they were hatched. His signature of the Portsmouth Declaration was greeted with shock by some members of the TAC who do not subscribe to the Anglo-Papal position at all. It seems that some campaigned within the TAC against the move, and others made sure that Rome understood that the TAC was not really a serious player. 

In the TAC, the battle grew more heated; it would not be an exaggeration to say that the Ordinariate option is tearing it apart. Archbishop Hepworth continues energetically to promote the Ordinariate; others equally energetically oppose it, as on a comment on this post, portraying their Primate's efforts as his personal ticket to be accepted back into the Catholic Church which he regrets ever leaving:

As a member of the Anglican Church in America (a part of TAC worldwide). Seeing what he has done to our church body is madding [sic]. As though TAC/ACA are some sort of peace offering for him to get back into the Roman church. Thanks but no thanks. We are Catholics and we are Anglican and we don't need the Pope to be Catholic, but first and foremost we are faithful Christians. I just hope the ACA can repair the damage he has done.

'We don't need the Pope to be Catholic'. Well, no doubt the writer is not a theologian, but that comment speaks volumes. And the battle is getting nasty. In a recent Pastoral letter to the whole TAC passionately deprecating the spat, Archbishop Hepworth made the following remarkable charge against one Bishop Marsh, one of his brother bishops:

Meanwhile, it has emerged that Bishop Marsh is a high-ranking member of a virulently anti-catholic Lodge of Freemasons, and claims to have successfully influenced Roman Catholic authorities to reject the TAC and its bishops as a credible ecclesial communion.

Those TAC bishops who wish not to accept the Holy Father's offer seem now to see themselves as the authoritative leaders of the communion. They have called on Hepworth to resign—he offered to do so at Pentecost, but apparently that is unacceptable. They insist he must go straight away. The feeling seems to be that as Rome did not offer corporate reunion, but insists that each person has to make his own decision to be part of the Ordinariate, then the offer is unacceptable. This is what the English Vicar-General of the TAC wrote to the clergy in his jurisdiction:

To those of you who … have submitted personal dossiers to Rome the following applies directly to you.
As we now know, the petition that was agreed at the Portsmouth Synod of the College Of Bishops and duly sent to Rome. The Petition did not receive an offer of “intercommunion or unity between us” from the Holy See, but an offer to us requiring personal individual conversions to become Roman Catholics. That offer has been rejected by our College of Bishops.
The Motion that was agreed and passed by the Assembly of the Traditional Anglican Church in October 2009, in pursuit the offer made by the Holy Father has also been firmly rejected by the College of Bishops and will not be implemented. The current leadership of the College of Bishops have authorised me to state the following; “that in effect those who have submitted dossiers for personal conversion to Rome have by their own actions indicated their decision to leave and have in effect left the Communion”.
Those of you who have submitted personal dossiers and may now wish to reconsider your position to return to the TTAC/TAC should do so by contacting me directly in writing by February 3rd 2012.

Which is plain speaking enough. The issue of conversion is not really at the heart of the matter, though, for if these people really believed what the Catholic Church teaches, those things that Archbishop Hepworth affirmed in the Portsmouth Declaration, then the Roman Option would become the Roman Imperative (as someone else has said). What they want is Roman Communion without the Roman Faith, and that was never going to work. The faith of the TAC may be more like the Roman faith than is professed in most mainstream Anglican churches today, but it still has a way to go. Those who remain in the TAC will have been weakened by the current movement and some no doubt will feel profoundly hurt by it and probably betrayed by their own Primate. What their future is remains to be seen; if their differences are not too profound, they may seek common cause and communion with the Anglican Catholic Church or some other body. Those of the TAC who do seek Roman Communion, such as the famous St Agatha's Church in Portsmouth (where in fact the mainstream former Bishop Robert Mercer was received into full communion a few weeks ago) will no doubt merge gently into the Ordinariates. In Australia they are likely to be the major player in the Ordinariate of Our Lady of the Southern Cross, since they already have their own churches and organization, and the mainstream Anglican church tends to be rather Evangelical, and therefore not a large provider of aspirants to Roman communion.

In some ways I feel saddest for those who really do share the Roman faith in their deepest heart but for whom the path of Roman Communion would involve what they believe to be intolerable sacrifice. Like the rich young man in the Gospel, they turn sadly away. In all this one can be deeply edified by the determination of Archbishop Hepworth; whatever else he may have said or done, he has committed himself to Roman Communion with an admirable single-mindedness, rendered all the more poignant by the fact that, as a former priest of the Adelaide Diocese, he is likely to have to surrender his own practice of the priesthood in order to achieve it. As a priest myself, I can only imagine what that prospect must feel like. We would do well not to belittle it.

Celebration

It isn't usually my custom to duplicate stuff from other sites here on the Valle Adurni, but I must make an exception in this case. The church of St Mary Magdalen, Brighton, is celebrating its 150th anniversary this year and has laid on a quite incomparable series of events which I commend very warmly to anyone reading this blog.
The best thing is to consult the source itself.

Congratulations, Fr Ray, not just for the anniversary, but for your enterprise.

Chill in the Park

Whether it is just the way that it has been reported here (h/t Catholic Herald), or whether it really happened this way, it would appear that Archbishop Charlie Brown has received a less than warm welcome at Aras an Uachtaráin. Having made an effusive address to the President, the reply new nuncio got would make penguins think that there was a nip in the air.

President Higgins, in reply, asked the nuncio to “convey to the Pope my best wishes and the best wishes of the people of Ireland”.You are right in saying that the relationship between Ireland and the Holy See goes back to 1929 and there are many areas of international policy in which we have a shared view, areas of development, poverty, disarmament, and these have been fruitful for us,” he added.

Mr Higgins wished the archbishop “every happiness and success, both in your capacity as representative of the Holy See and also as dean of the diplomatic corps”.
Concluding with the words, “May I introduce you now to some people who will be of assistance to you in your work,” the President introduced him to Tánaiste Eamon Gilmore, who initiated the decision at Cabinet to close the Vatican embassy.

He could scarcely have said less, really.

But maybe this was just the way it was reported.

Trumpets and Drums

The row in the States over Obamacare has been fascinating at all sorts of levels. There is, for instance, the almost unique spectacle of Western bishops manning up in defence of the Catholic faith, and they are demonstrating just how effective that can be. It remains to be seen whether their stance will be reflected at the polls, but I should be surprised if it were not. Then there is what Rorate Caeli pointed out, the fact that this row has actually brought to the attention of the American public what the Church teaches about artificial contraception and associated matters. Catholics in the pews who have not had the subject mentioned in a sermon or catechesis for half a century are now made aware of what the situation truly is. And thirdly, there is the situation in the UK. Our compulsory National Health Service contributions have for decades been paying for abortions, sterilizations, free contraception in schools and a whole host of other morally dubious or plainly wrong procedures. The chillingly-named NICE* has but to declare a particular procedure or drug a good use of public funds and our money goes to pay for it without a by-your-leave.
The original conception of the National Health Service was, I believe, a noble one. But it has become a kind of monster in some respects, and a shibboleth in others. No politician wants to be seen to be demolishing the NHS, and yet we are confronted with the situation that our health care provision is not, actually, free, and is not nearly as good as that to be found in France or even Spain. We have been through a huge period of privatization of health care at all levels except the vital one of who actually administers the money. If I could choose an insurance system that did not pay for abortions &c, then I should certainly do so, and that would bring some pressure to bear (which is presumably why this part hasn't been privatized). There would, of course, have to be some system whereby those too poor to afford health care could continue to have access to it.

All of which is getting around to saying: wouldn't it be nice if our own bishops also were able to man up and speak the truth. I happen to know that there really are behind-the-scene discussions with the government which are not without their effect, but these discussions are invisible to the population at large, even the Catholic population. There is a lot to be said for sounding the trumpet and beating the drum. It works wonders for morale, and I think that that is what we need right now.


*Non-UK readers might not know what NICE is; it stands for the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence. But it was also, prophetically, the name for the National Institute for Coordinated Experiments in C.S.Lewis' That Hideous Strength, the body whose immoral experiments with human life brought dreadful calamities to the world.

Consecration

When the Bell once ryngs (if they can not conveniently see) [the people] forsake their seates and runne from altare to altare, from Sakering [Consecration] to Sakering, peeping here and touting ther, and gazing at that thing, which the pildepate [tonsured] Priest holdeth up in hys handes. And if the Priest be weake in the armes, and heave not up hye ynough, the rude people of the countrey in diverse partes of England wyll crye out to the Priest, holde up Sir John, holde up. Heave it a littel hyer. And one wil say to another : "Stoupe downe thou fellowe afore, that I may see my maker. For I can not be mery, except I see my Lorde God once in a day."
(Thomas Becon, Displayeng of the Popysh Masse, in Workes, London, 1563. vol. iii. fif. xli. b. and xliiii.)