Best dressed girl in town……

The Black Virgin in the basilica of Notre-Dame de la Daurade in Toulouse has had a makeover. Her costumes having got tatty over the years, several top couturiers have been commissioned to produce seven new outfits for her; contributors include Christian Lacroix, Jean-Charles de Castelbajac and Franck Sorbier.

We are not required to provide abortion info: official!

There was a question raised in the House of Lords on 11th March by that veteran campaigner, Lord Alton. Here is the Hansard record:

Children, Schools and Families Bill

Question

Asked by Lord Alton of Liverpool

To ask Her Majesty's Government whether the Children, Schools and Families Bill will place a requirement on Catholic, Jewish, Anglican and Muslim voluntary aided schools to provide children with details of abortion clinics and abortion referral agencies. [HL2447]

The Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State, Department for Children, Schools and Families (Baroness Morgan of Drefelin): It will not. Schools will have to teach their pupils where and how to obtain health information. They will also be encouraged to teach their pupils how to access information about contraception and sexual health as part of their delivery of SRE, but whether and how they do that will be at their discretion.

'Whether and how they do that will be at their discretion'

So, after all, we are not required to provide information about abortion or contraception. A******a! (it still being Lent). Now, (another question), why haven't the Catholic Education Service noticed this yet (the question and reply having been put last week)? Or, if they have noticed it, why haven't they drawn our attention to it?

Many thanks to a friend for this information, who, I believe, would prefer to remain anonymous.

Proud and happy again

Having been here there and everywhere recently, I have rather missed the furore around Fr Ray's observations on his blog St Mary Magdalen (see left).

Frankly, I'm proud to be his friend, and want to say so here.

Nuff said.

Petition

I am not greatly in favour of petitions: they don't usually achieve their purpose, and often have the opposite effect. Ed Balls' appearance on the Today programme, much discussed on other blogs, has rather sharpened the issue, though.

Let us look at the sequence of events again: the Website of the Catholic Education Service put a headline suggesting that they, by their lobbying, had managed to make the bill Catholic-teaching compliant. I'm paraphrasing, of course, and I see that the headline is no longer there.

This was not tactful: imagine how it was read in certain Labour quarters. They would have considered that the Catholic Church had yet again sidestepped its obligation to respect 'fundamental human rights' such as the right of a mother to kill her unborn child. Ed Balls had been placed in a tight corner.

So, to put himself back in charge, the minister feels that he has to assert that Catholics will in fact be absolutely obliged to provide all sorts of things that are profoundly rebarbative to us.

'They must explain how to access an abortion. The same is true on contraception as well.'

No exceptions will be made. We may give our opinion on it if we like (how gracious!), but not to refuse to involve ourselves in killing the unborn, even if only in a remote way.

The press, of course, picked up the story, and tried to contact the CES for a comment. The CES seemed simply to have taken the phone off the hook, the day off, and were in a word uncontactable. Imagine that; probably the biggest crisis in Catholic schooling for a century, and (no doubt not knowing what to say) they have nobody to make a comment!

And now here we are with a big unanswered question:

Is Ed Balls right? Will we be obliged in law to do this?

We need an answer!

Meanwhile, silence. Now, silence does not, of course, imply inactivity, merely that things may be going on under the surface. Let us hope and pray so. I expect that there are plenty of influential people very concerned about this. Meanwhile, Canon 212 §2 says:

The Christian faithful are free to make known to the pastors of the Church their needs, especially spiritual ones, and their desires.

So, though others may think it disrespectful to the bishops, I humbly suggest you request their Lordships to do their duty, and sign the petition here.

Sledgehammers and Eggs

The organizers of the Friends of the Ordinariate have received a threatening letter from the solicitors of the Church in Wales

Read it here.

A tad over the top, brethren?

Proud and happy

Tonight I was so happy to witness one of my old altar servers taking his resolve of celibacy and being ordained to the diaconate at St John's Seminary, Wonersh: God willing, in a few months he will be a priest. Many priests have been contributors to Philip's path to today, but I feel so privileged to have been one of the earliest. Please remember Philip today, and pray for him. The photos, of course, are then and now; today's one is of dreadful quality, I'm afraid, because I had only my mobile phone in poor light.

We don't have children ourselves, but, as Fulton Sheen commented, this has something of the same thing about it.

Sorry about having to blur out the faces of the other servers; they are all men now (two in the American marines!), so I suppose it doesn't matter. I just know that someone would complain if I didn't!

The Place of Awe-full Liturgy

When we come to sanctuary practice, I am far less tolerant than I am on the subject of music. Some while ago I mentioned that I considered that too much attention being paid to ultra-correct performance of the rubrics was not entirely desireable: I opined that rubrics are God’s table manners, and not the meal itself. That being said, and I still would hold to that opinion, I think that the other extreme is far more reprehensible. I cannot bear sloppiness, carelessness, indifference on the sanctuary; the rubrics are there to be observed, and even if they are ‘only’ table manners, then they are God’s table manners, and not to make some attempt to observe them is worse than rudeness. On occasion, when I fear that I am going to be distressed by the carelessness of the celebration, I have chickened out of attending, or assisted from the nave.

The way we celebrate is not simply about self-expression, as some would have it. It is actually about communion, koinonia; an expression of my communion with Catholics in Tokyo, Sarawak, Anchorage, Sao Paolo, Sydney and even Neasden. I offer not merely the worship of the Adur Valley, but the prayer of the Church, and am inserted into the mystery of heavenly worship by my celebration (mutatis mutandis) in the same manner as, for instance, Pope Benedict XVI. By my submission to the rites, I also express koinonia with those of other rites who celebrate authentically according to those rites and do not substitute self-expression for Church-expression.

I rather suspect that some Ordinariate churches might find this one a little difficult. Most Anglo-Catholic churches, in my experience, do things differently to their neighbour. In one church you might find the Roman rite celebrated very similarly to the way I do it. But in another, it might be Common Worship with one particular set of selections, in another it might be English Missal; abroad, you may well find the Book of Common Prayer in one form or another; and this is all before the particular manner of performance of the rubrics. There are, of course, some standards; it seems to be almost universal for the Gospel to be read half way down the nave, facing west (I am now about to be indundated with accounts of churches where this is not done!), and the intercessions to be lengthy, and read by a layperson standing in the nave aisle facing east. There are general traditions, if I can put it like that, but immutable rubrics are few, unless freely chosen by a particular celebrant and parish. Even the estimable Fr Hunwicke has chosen the set of rubrics to which he carefully and laudably adheres. This, rather congregational, part of the patrimony, I think, will need to change, for the purposes of Communion.

Another factor is that which is sometimes expressed as lex orandi = lex credendi. You can see what someone believes by watching him pray the Mass (as well as the texts he uses), and the way the Mass is prayed will form the beliefs of those who assist at it. Here, I think, we need to be careful, because there is belief and then there is opinion; the two are not the same. Newman differentiated between notional and real belief. One can assent to something as being generally true without it making much difference to one’s life. Somebody may say that he believes in the real presence, but if he keeps the Lord in a cigar box on a library shelf — a real instance, by the way, this being the practice in a house of RC sisters that I have visited — then I think I may be excused for doubting whether that person believes at all that here is the body, blood soul and divinity of Jesus Christ, the second person of the Blessed Trinity, or merely has an opinion on the subject. They might say that they believed, and be quite cross if one suggested that they do not, but do they really do so? An opinion can easily be changed, because it costs little; a belief can send the believer to death in its defence. Belief is contagious; opinion merely interesting. And belief or opinion will show itself in the way we pray; mere opinion will tend to either dead, ritualistic performance, or else sloppy and careless emptiness.

A key component in all this is an atmosphere of holiness. I don’t mean incense and mood music (though perhaps these can help), but a focus on what one is doing; a concentration on the sacred action, and a remembrance that the real celebrant of the Mass is Christ, not Father Bloggs. This should obviate that appalling thing, the host-celebrant, who conducts a service as if it were a game show and he the compére. Our job is not to give people an entertaining hour or so, but to focus them beyond, to the eternal things; to seek the things that are above.

Some Anglo-Catholics find the irreverent atmosphere sometimes to be found in our churches truly objectionable. I know what they mean; partly this is because of demographics. Anglo-Catholic churches tend to have almost entirely adult congregations—not exclusively, I know. We tend to have a lot of families, and children naturally make things more chaotic. In controlling small children, one has to rely on the effectiveness of the parenting, though there are things one can do. I have found that it helps to spend quite a lot of time with the children preparing for First Holy Communion. I attend every preparation session, and spend some fifteen minutes each time simply teaching the children (8 year olds in our case) how to behave in church, and explaining the bits and pieces in a church and what they see at Mass. In our parish we have vast numbers of small children (Deo gratias!), and they really behave very well, because the smaller ones have learnt off their older brothers and sisters who have made their first Communions. And, slowly, even their parents are beginning to get the message.

In our tradition, of course, our altar servers tend to be mostly children and youths, with one or two adults to steer them. This, too, is a great help in preparing them to understand the liturgy and see it as something important to their lives. Those of you who are priests will often have encountered old men, many lapsed for years, who are brought back to the sacraments by the memory that ‘I used to be an altar boy’. If one has too many adults serving, there is not the same opportunity for the young to gain experience, and feel themselves to be of value, by performing the more interesting jobs. The Church is one of the first places that gives them roles of real responsibility and values them as true contributors to something genuinely important. In the past, I suppose, the Anglican tradition would have used choirs for this purpose, but it is a rare choir now that has a child top line, let alone a boy top line.

Roman Catholics also tend to behave in a rather more relaxed way in church than do Anglo-Catholics. I don’t know why this should be, but you will see it in an even more pronounced way in the Mediterranean countries. Maybe (and I’m guessing) it is because we don’t feel we have to make a point of our beliefs and practices; we haven’t had to fight for them in the same way—the worst we might expect is an eejit given to clown Masses, and I have never seen that in the UK. A little more decorum would be nice, of course, and I would certainly appreciate some more quiet before Mass, but the slight air of chaos on a Sunday morning says ‘family’ to me.

I have served in churches where Mass is celebrated facing east, and where Mass is celebrated facing west. I prefer ad orientem celebration (and believe that it better expresses the meaning of the liturgy), but I do not think it impossible to celebrate well ad populum. To make the crucifix one’s focus, and to set it on the altar as Pope Benedict recommends is a great help. It also helps not to look directly at the people except when one is directly addressing them. Building an atmosphere of prayer is a longer task.

One thing I would love to change is the Communion queue. Some ‘liturgists’ are now even making a virtue of it, calling it the ‘Communion Procession’. Well, I suppose they may as well try and see some virtue in it, but I cannot get it. Communion along the sanctuary step gives people a chance to compose themselves, and a chance to receive Communion without immediately being required to move along and make way for someone else. The priest can distribute more quickly, without irreverence, and—an important thing, this—if there is a rail, elderly people receiving on the tongue can brace themselves against it, so that the priest is not having to make a tricky shot placing the Host safely onto the tongue of somebody unsteady on his feet, wobbling around.

This post isn't really a long reasoned argument; it's just a series of thoughts as I try to explain just why it might be that some Anglo-Catholics find our worship not quite as they might prefer it to be. In the end, it is because it is the worship of those who worship there. At times I, too, wonder at the resilience of the People of God, who continue to meet our Lord and grow in his grace in the most unpropitious circumstances. But finally, perhaps, it might remind us of that Jew in Boccaccio's story who, resolving to be baptized, determined to pay a visit to Rome first. His local priest was convinced that, once he saw the chaos and bad-living of that city, he would change his mind in short order. But on his return, the Jew professed himself completely convinced, because, he said, nothing so corrupt and dreadful could possibly have survived even ten years, let along centuries unless the Church were indeed the vessel of God's promise. We are, indeed, the earthen vessels that carry this great treasure, and it is a most powerful demonstration of God's grace that even something so awful as some of our liturgy unquestionably is can still convert thousands, as was demonstrated by the crowds in our cathedrals last Sunday for the Rite of Election.

Prayers

Besides being the feast of title of our church in Shoreham, today, the feast of St Peter's Chair, is the day of special prayer for those groups who may be considering taking the Holy Father's offer made in Anglicanorum Cœtibus. Please do join with our friends in prayer for this intention today: I offered Mass last night for them, and also the office today.

The Place of Awful Music

So what is there, then, in ‘Roman’ liturgy that makes some Anglicans murmur quietly to each other ‘N.Q.O.C.D.’?

Well, there’s the music, of course. The CofE has a truly splendid patrimony of hymnody (just think of those unmatched translations of J.M.Neale), and has some excellent, and many good, choirs up and down the country. But not as many as it had, and there are also excellent choirs in the Catholic Church, though not so many, of course. My impression is that many, if not most, CofE parishes now struggle if they want to maintain a musical tradition, largely because there simply isn’t the body of layfolk to draw on. And it also strikes me that the number of parishes replacing Hymns Ancient and Modern with Hymns Weird and Wonderful is increasing. A lot of this is simply because our culture itself is becoming increasingly dumbed-down.

The question, of course, is should we pander to this, or should we set an example and wait for people to discover what riches lie in store for those who take the trouble to educate their tastes?

It is true that our music in the average English Catholic parish isn’t much to write home about, from the point of view of educated taste. But it does have genuinely popular appeal. Oh, not for everybody, of course, (not for me, in fact), but if one were to take my parish here as typical, then things that make me gag, such as:

The ‘Clapping Gloria’

Sing it on the mountains (oh-oh)

He sent me to give the good news to the poor,

I left my boat by the lakeside,

and many other gems really do (mirabile dictu) touch people’s hearts. In some mysterious way they articulate an interior disposition of faith, and tug, I dare say, at the same heart-strings that Donny Osmond tugged at when he sang ‘Puppy Love’. In our case, the motive is to direct this good impulse towards the love of God. If people’s experience in church is a positive one for them, they will feel better about coming again next Sunday, and in the context of all this pap they will hear the authentic word of God and hopefully have it applied in an orthodox manner in the homily; they will be present at the August Sacrifice and receive its fruits.

So why should one put up with low standards? Because I suspect that more of my parishioners listen to Heart FM (or perhaps Radio 2) than to Radio 3. Palestrina would no doubt sound nice to them for a little bit, but they couldn’t keep it up for a whole Mass, and it wouldn’t touch them, and certainly not in the way it would touch me. There wouldn’t be much to bring them back next Sunday, (though if I were a parishioner and there were Palestrina each Sunday, I would be hammering at the doors).

Let’s consider two examples of the successful use of demotic music, one Anglican, one Catholic.

In the nineteenth century, Fr Faber founded, under Newman, the London Oratory. As any fule kno, the Oratory loves splendid liturgy, and only the most splenetic and unforgiving Anglican would find it wanting in the taste department. But Faber understood what St Philip Neri understood; that actually you have to meet people at least half way. Faber filled the Oratory not at High Mass, but at the Evening Services for which his famous (and some infamous) hymns were written. These hymns, which waver between the sublime and the sentimental (sometimes managing to be both at the same time), were set, it is said, to music that Faber heard emerging from the various pubs up and down the Brompton Road. It was an innovation for which Booth and the Salvation Army usually get the credit, but Faber did it decades before. And it worked! The music was awful, but crowds of the poor poured in to worship God. Those who preferred nicer music went to other services, though many (like the then Duke of Norfolk) went to both.

My Anglican example is a local one. The most Anglo-Catholic church in town is on Shoreham Beach, and it belongs (I think) to the Affirming Catholicism movement. At least, its vicar is a vicaress, and an admirable woman who recently entered a den of lions to defend Christianity, but that’s another story. I attended her plumbing-in (a curious affair presided over by the Bishop of Chichester, the only male on the sanctuary, who personally instituted her even though he doesn’t even believe her to be a priest), in a packed church—admittedly plumbings-in are always big events. More importantly, I gather that the church is very successful indeed, Sunday to Sunday. Rare indeed (sadly) for a church of the Anglo-Catholic tradition these days. The music, however, would probably curl your toes: the setting of the ordinary was, er, unique. Imagine Rodgers and Hammerstein, with a touch of Lloyd Webber, and maybe a bit of Sound of Music. I caught the eye of another Anglican colleague, himself a fine organist, to see his eyebrows disappearing into his scalp; we both got the giggles. But the people raised the roof; somehow with them it struck just the right note; that parish has the pitch of the house, it knows its audience and gets it right. For Shoreham, that is; I doubt it would work in Kensington.

So, whether it’s Kendrick or Byrd, Estelle White or Mozart; the important thing is that it is received. It is not my job to educate people in taste; I am supposed to educate them in sound doctrine, and I will be able to do so more efficiently in a context where they feel comfortable.

So, how low am I prepared to sink?

Let us be clear that in my tolerance of awful music one must firmly exclude texts that are heterodox (and they certainly exist), however saccharine the tune—I have a few more of these in my sights at the moment—because even Arius understood the catechetical importance of music.

Second, one must do one’s best to make sure that the performance is as good (in its own way) as one can manage. A dispiriting performance of dreadful music will lift nobody’s spirit.

The music also has to centre upon the Mystery, which is to say, be uplifting when it needs to be uplifting, and be reverential when it needs to be reverential, remembering that the August Sacrifice lies at the heart of what it is all about.

A cleverer question is: Should we do this at Mass at all?

There, the jury is out in my opinion. Hymns were not permitted at Mass in the UK until the mid-1960s, and there is a very persuasive case to be made for their banning once more, since they have a tendency to debase the liturgy for a number of reasons, which I won’t go into here—the New Liturgical Movement site deals eloquently with this debate. But let us not delude ourselves that the mere banning of hymnody at Mass will result in a taste explosion, if I can put it like that.

For a start, you will not change people’s expectations and tastes for at least a generation, and those who will not or cannot take the trouble to educate themselves to appreciate the chant will vote with their feet.

Before permission was given for hymns to replace the proper texts, one must not imagine that the Liber Usualis was duly sung in every parish; in most places, the Introit, Gradual &c texts were instead ‘peeped’, which is to say, sung to a psalm tone, or (in the case of classy choirs) to Carlo Rossini’s or J Edmonds Tozer’s harmonized versions. These were the Catholic equivalent to Salomon Sulzer’s music for the Synagogue, and in their day probably (mutatis mutandis) not a million miles in spirit from Paul Inwood. The Kyrie, Gloria &c were sung almost invariably to Mass 8; parishes with a choir might sing their way through one of the settings in the Cecilian tradition; there were a host of settings of greater or lesser awfulness—I well remember that we were using these well into the 1970s when I was an organist at Epsom.

There were rare town-centre churches that would make a decent fist of the chant, and when a tradition could be built up, the results could be superb. I was privileged to be the assistant priest at one such church in the early 1990s, where the plainchant tradition had continued, at least as regards the Ordinary, and Masses 1, 8, 9, 11, & 16 were lustily sung at their appropriate seasons by the choir and congregation, a glorious tradition shamefully suppressed by another man in the late 1990s. Hymns (good ones), however, replaced the propers.

The next problem is that plainchant, though relatively easy to sing, is not very easy to sing well. When chant is sung well, there is nothing better. When chant is sung badly, there is nothing worse.

It’s usually sung badly.

A nasal drone wheezing its way through an interminable gradual…… Give me joy in my heart, keep me praising, any time!

Is the Mass the place for spiritual uplift? Of course! Can one be spiritually uplifted by bad music? Obviously some people can: the majority of my parishioners believe that they can. I must just put up with it for the sake of the greater good.

Which is all to say………

I wish it were possible for me to have both a Mass with rubbish music and another Mass with decent stuff; I’m sure that if I could offer a genuine choice, people would eventually begin to get the point. But I have three churches, each of which has a Mass and a large majority who do not like what I like. The best I can have is what I call the “music-lovers’ Mass”, which is the Sunday evening Mass, with no music at all.

My people are wonderful people, and as far as I am concerned, the important thing is that they are here at Mass. Our church is full each Sunday, thanks be to God, and if the cost of that is dreadful music, then bring on the tambourines!

My job is not to make people appreciate good taste, but to persuade them to holiness.

That being said, Anglo-Catholics are quite right to point to, and deplore, the presence of deliberate dumbing down among Roman Catholics. This occurs where the people listen to Radios 3 & 4, and the priest listens to Radio 2 or Heart FM, if I can put it like that. It is where the priest imposes his taste on an unwilling people in the wrong direction.

The absolute I will stand by is that a priest would be extremely foolish to impose a private taste upon a congregation that thinks otherwise, especially when things are actually done quite well in their particular style, but that he would be worse than a fool to take a good tradition and destroy it because of some prejudice against what he might call elitism. It was this shocking philiistinism that gave us the cultural revolution in China and the cultural devastation at the Reformation.

If the ‘Patrimony’ will bring us a better musical style, readily available in more localities than at present, then this can only do good. But we must be clear that it will be addressing a particular clientéle: it is unlikely to attract many of those who are now Roman Catholics, because its tradition tends to be its own, neither demotic nor Gregorian (exceptional places aside). But I expect that it will exert another of Pope Benedict’s gravitational pulls as long as it can demonstrate itself to be reasonably successful.

Next, I shall do my best to address sanctuary ritual.

Patrimony

I am told that the French-speakers of Belgium are more French than the French, yet at the same time they maintain a certain de-haut-en-bas contempt for their co-linguists south of the border. The French are rather puzzled about this, but simply give a Gallic shrug and mutter about l’ennui du Nord.

I have detected a similar attitude between Roman and Anglo-Catholics, which has at turns amused and irritated me. When I celebrated those Sarum Masses (links to which you can find on the left) fifteen years or so ago, for two humiliating years running I was given a peculiar alb that was the right length in front (so I saw nothing wrong), but absurdly short at the back; the hem (and apparel) did not even descend below the chasuble end. A snort from some Anglo-Catholic congregants was reported to me: ‘typical Romans; can’t get anything right!’ This in the face of what was, actually, (forgive the immodesty) a very well organized and beautiful celebration. Again, there was simply the desire to cut us down to size, to put the Italian mission in her place, among the immigrants, peasants and fools.

Of course, this is perfectly understandable from many points of view. But many of my co-religionists fear that this de-haut-en-bas attitude is actually what some Anglo-Catholics mean by ‘patrimony’. A sort of religious apartheid. I think that for many, this fear is greater than the fear that the hand of the conservative/traditional wing of the Church be strengthened.

Looking around the various Anglo-Catholic blogs and websites, few of the bloggers show much sign of this attitude, but there are flashes of it, and they annoy me considerably, mostly because they sow discord just when we need to be building bridges. Comments I have read and disliked range from the ‘went to a Roman Mass last week; gosh it was awful; just what I expected’ to ‘Very much looking forward to being in communion with a gentleman like Pope Benedict, but gosh, I’m not looking forward to the job of educating the paddies in what Catholicism is really about’.

I restate; most writers do not take this attitude, some are commendably, touchingly, humble and grateful. But future Ordinariates are not going to exist in isolation: for a long time now, Anglo-Catholicism has been ploughing a very lone furrow. Well, now you’re going to have a loving family around you and a new home: this isn’t the time to be criticizing the soft furnishings; it’s a time for making friends.

To return to the analogy; yes, the Flemish-speakers may have decided to dispense with the Walloons, but France has offered a new semi-autonomous province. Let’s all be kind; on the one side, welcoming and generous; on the other, not looking gift-horses in the mouth.

I’m planning to explore this a bit in some future posts, with particular reference to liturgical style; this post is just coughing the bile out of my chest so that I can be more objective here on in.

Reparation

A comment was made on the last post suggesting that, in the spirit of the Gospel on Ash Wednesday, penance is essentially a private thing, and that this should apply to the Irish bishops as well as to anyone else.

I think I disagree: for personal sins, for our personal failings, then yes, of course. And if penance is done in order to parade our virtue, then certainly private penance is the right thing, as our Lord suggests.

But for public sins and failings, there should be public reparation. This might just do some urgently needed repair work.

And, as a parishioner commented to me: what a historic moment that would be, for the entire hierarchy of Ireland to undertake penance together. Like Henry II scourged at Becket's tomb, or the Emperor kneeling in the snow.

I would bet that, did the hierarchy make a date to ascend Croagh Patrick together, half the Island would join them. This is not a time for hand-wringing, but for decisive Christian leadership. Are the Irish bishops to abandon their people yet again?

Penitenziagite!

Yes, yes, I know; it was the cry of the Dolcinians. But it was what came into my mind when I read the response of Cardinal Brady to the Pope's discussions with the Irish hierarchy in response to the abuse crisis.

According to Zenit:

Cardinal Brady stressed the importance of a renewal of faith in the Church in Ireland, saying the crisis of sexual abuse is also due to the crisis of faith in Ireland, in particular, among its priests.

And what does renewal of the faith mean? According to the cardinal, it means renewal of "prayer, of charity."

"We must begin this renewal tomorrow," he said, "with the beginning of Lent."

Quite Lenten: prayer, almsgiving. And yes, crisis of faith is right. But the one thing his Eminence did not mention here was PENANCE. In another place it was equated with humiliation. Humiliation the Irish Hierarchy have already got in spades, and no doubt a humble acceptance of this is a good start, but it is only a start to accept what you cannot avoid, to make a virtue of necessity. If the hierarchy really want to win back the souls of the Irish, they are going to have to go a lot further. To put their money where their mouth is.

Think back to those early days; how were the Irish, a very physical race, converted? Largely by penance. The style of the Egyptian desert Fathers was imported to Ireland and dramatically succeeded. There are those who think that Celtic Spirituality is all about mood music, candles, crystals and bogus poetry, 'deep peace of the rumbling tummy to you'. Try standing up in your neck in freezing water saying all 150 psalms, and you'll get closer.

Ireland has always admired heroism: just look at its literature. What it needs now is heroes, and the bishops are simply going to have to lead the way if they are to stand any chance of reclaiming the people before it is too late.

The people can say with honesty: 'you say you believe this stuff, virgin birth &c; well, I don't see much evidence in your privileged lives.'

The childish gestures of Willy Walsh are only that, childish gestures. Even the selling of an Episcopal residence to compensate victims is simply making a virtue of necessity.

Were the entire hierarchy to go to St Patrick's Purgatory this Lent with as many of the clergy as would join them, it would be a start. But no, I don't see it happening, somehow. That is simply for the simply superstitious laity isn't it? It'll all be gone in a generation. We've left all that stuff behind now, with the ass and sidecar, the soddy schools and the 'top of the morning to yous'.

Never mind being pilloried in the press: to do public penance would be real humiliation! To share the prayer of the poor, the simple, the saintly? Never!

Come on, your Excellencies! What about it?

Immutemur habitu, in cinere et cilicio; jejunemus, et ploremus ante Dominum; quia multum misericors est dimittere peccata nostra Deus noster.

Apprehendite disciplinam, ne pereatis in via justa!

p.s. In the same Zenit email this morning, I see that the fact that Pope John Paul may have used corporal mortification is actually being alleged as evidence against his sanctity! What a strange world we live in!

Post

The Latin Mass Society are looking for a General Manager and have asked me to advertise this. Please email john@latin-mass-society.org if you are interested.

Biffi biffs

I had always thought Cardinal Giacomo Biffi, the Milanese former Archbishop of Bologna, to be rather a good thing. I enjoyed his book Casta Meretrix on how the Church can be (as it were, and forgive the allusion) simul iustus et peccator. He has an almost Australian knack for saying it like it is and being no respecter of persons. In his autobiography, Memorie e Digressioni di un Italiano Cardinale, he quotes with approval the words of St Ambrose:

A bishop can do nothing more perilous before God, and nothing more shameful before men, than fail to proclaim freely his own thoughts.

And that is just what he has done, without pulling the punches, pretty well throughout his life. This is Biffi on Ecumenism:

But woe to us if we let this inspire us in our evangelical testimony before the world, in our ecumenical efforts, in discussions with non-believers. In virtue of this principle, Christ could become the first and most illustrious victim of dialogue with the non-Christian religions. The Lord Jesus said of himself, in one of his remarks that we are inclined to censure: "I have come to bring division" (Luke 12:51).

In the questions that count, the rule can be none other than this: we must look above all at what is decisive, essential, true, whether it divides us or not.

And this, just before the election of Benedict XVI, is what he wrote to the new Pope, whoever he might turn out to be:

"1. After hearing all of the statements - correct, opportune, impassioned - that have been made here, I would like to express to the future pope (who is listening to me now) my complete solidarity, concord, understanding, and even a bit of my fraternal compassion. But I would also like to suggest to him that he not be too worried about what he has heard here, and that he not be too frightened. The Lord Jesus will not ask him to resolve all the world's problems. He will ask him to love him with extraordinary love: 'Do you love me more than these?' (cf. John 21:15). A number of years ago, I came across a phrase in the 'Mafalda' comic strip from Argentina that has often come back into my mind in these days: 'I've got it,' said that feisty and perceptive little girl, 'the world is full of problemologists, but short on solutionologists'.

"2. I would like to tell the future pope to pay attention to all problems. But first and most of all, he should take into account the state of confusion, disorientation, and aimlessness that afflicts the people of God in these years, and above all the 'little ones'.

"3. A few days ago, I saw on television an elderly, devout religious sister who responded to the interviewer this way: 'This pope, who has died, was great above all because he taught us that all religions are equal'. I don't know whether John Paul II would have been very pleased by this sort of elegy.

"4. Finally, I would like to point out to the new pope the incredible phenomenon of 'Dominus Iesus': a document explicitly endorsed and publicly approved by John Paul II; a document for which I am pleased to express my vibrant gratitude to Cardinal Ratzinger. That Jesus is the only necessary Savior of all is a truth that for over twenty centuries - beginning with Peter's discourse after Pentecost - it was never felt necessity to restate. This truth is, so to speak, the minimum threshold of the faith; it is the primordial certitude, it is among believers the simple and most essential fact. In two thousand years this has never been brought into doubt, not even during the crisis of Arianism, and not even during the upheaval of the Protestant Reformation. The fact of needing to issue a reminder of this in our time tells us the extent of the gravity of the current situation. And yet this document, which recalls the most basic, most simple, most essential certitude, has been called into question. It has been contested at all levels: at all levels of pastoral action, of theological instruction, of the hierarchy.

"5. A good Catholic told me about asking his pastor to let him make a presentation of 'Dominus Iesus' to the parish community. The pastor (an otherwise excellent and well-intentioned priest) replied to him: 'Let it go. That's a document that divides.' What a discovery! Jesus himself said: 'I have come to bring division' (Luke 12:51). But too many of Jesus' words are today censured among Christians; or at least among the most vocal of them."

Good stuff, for the most part. But he has not appreciated the two most recent archbishops of his home diocese, Milan, Cardinals Martini and Tettamanzi. The latter's latest offence is to have revised the Ambrosian Lectionary and, in Biffi's view, to have done it badly. In fact, Biffi appears to be nearly apoplectic with anger.

I think that most people who read this blog would think that the revision, in most matters, stood pretty well in the general movement of the Hermeneutic of Continuity, since it restores some features of the rite that had been lost over time. Although simply presented as a revision of the Lectionary, in fact it has many ramifications for the Ambrosian Rite generally, since it tackles also the Calendar.

The Ambrosian Rite suffered particularly acutely in the twentieth century. Its archbishop in the fifties, Giovanni Battista Montini (later Paul VI) made several efforts to romanize the rite. This was achieved above all after the Council; the modern Ambrosian Missal is really a Montini Missal with a few picturesque additions (a few Kyrie Eleisons here, a few blessings of readers there) and a different colour sequence for vestments.

The latest revision restores several ancient customs, all of which Biffi deplores:

• Advent is renamed the 'Lent of St Martin', and runs from November 11 (though traditionally it had run from 12th).

• Sundays after Pentecost are renamed, er, Sundays after Pentecost, instead of Sundays per Annum.

• Ancient titles of various Sundays have been restored

• A second Gospel of the Resurrection has been introduced for Vigil Masses of Sundays. I don't know the history of this; maybe it, too, is ancient.

• Ascension and Corpus Christi are to be celebrated (Shock!Horror!) on their proper Thursdays, the parish priest having the option to celebrate an external celebration of the feast on the following Sunday.

• Lectio continua has been introduced for certain seasons.

• Gospel readings are to begin 'In illo tempore.'; 'At that time.'

You can read the whole thing here, on Chiesa.

Your Eminence: I really do appreciate much that you have written and said. But in this case, please get over yourself!

Priorities for the Next Five Years

The Holy Father's address a few hours ago to our bishops:

I welcome all of you on your ad Limina visit to Rome, where you have come to venerate the tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul. I thank you for the kind words that Archbishop Vincent Nichols has addressed to me on your behalf, and I offer you my warmest good wishes and prayers for yourselves and all the faithful of England and Wales entrusted to your pastoral care. Your visit to Rome strengthens the bonds of communion between the Catholic community in your country and the Apostolic See, a communion that sustained your people’s faith for centuries, and today provides fresh energies for renewal and evangelization. Even amid the pressures of a secular age, there are many signs of living faith and devotion among the Catholics of England and Wales. I am thinking, for example, of the enthusiasm generated by the visit of the relics of Saint Thérèse, the interest aroused by the prospect of Cardinal Newman’s beatification, and the eagerness of young people to take part in pilgrimages and World Youth Days. On the occasion of my forthcoming Apostolic Visit to Great Britain, I shall be able to witness that faith for myself and, as Successor of Peter, to strengthen and confirm it. During the months of preparation that lie ahead, be sure to encourage the Catholics of England and Wales in their devotion, and assure them that the Pope constantly remembers them in his prayers and holds them in his heart.

Your country is well known for its firm commitment to equality of opportunity for all members of society. Yet as you have rightly pointed out, the effect of some of the legislation designed to achieve this goal has been to impose unjust limitations on the freedom of religious communities to act in accordance with their beliefs. In some respects it actually violates the natural law upon which the equality of all human beings is grounded and by which it is guaranteed. I urge you as Pastors to ensure that the Church’s moral teaching be always presented in its entirety and convincingly defended. Fidelity to the Gospel in no way restricts the freedom of others – on the contrary, it serves their freedom by offering them the truth. Continue to insist upon your right to participate in national debate through respectful dialogue with other elements in society. In doing so, you are not only maintaining long-standing British traditions of freedom of expression and honest exchange of opinion, but you are actually giving voice to the convictions of many people who lack the means to express them: when so many of the population claim to be Christian, how could anyone dispute the Gospel’s right to be heard?

If the full saving message of Christ is to be presented effectively and convincingly to the world, the Catholic community in your country needs to speak with a united voice. This requires not only you, the Bishops, but also priests, teachers, catechists, writers – in short all who are engaged in the task of communicating the Gospel – to be attentive to the promptings of the Spirit, who guides the whole Church into the truth, gathers her into unity and inspires her with missionary zeal.

Make it your concern, then, to draw on the considerable gifts of the lay faithful in England and Wales and see that they are equipped to hand on the faith to new generations comprehensively, accurately, and with a keen awareness that in so doing they are playing their part in the Church’s mission. In a social milieu that encourages the expression of a variety of opinions on every question that arises, it is important to recognize dissent for what it is, and not to mistake it for a mature contribution to a balanced and wide-ranging debate. It is the truth revealed through Scripture and Tradition and articulated by the Church’s Magisterium that sets us free. Cardinal Newman realized this, and he left us an outstanding example of faithfulness to revealed truth by following that "kindly light" wherever it led him, even at considerable personal cost. Great writers and communicators of his stature and integrity are needed in the Church today, and it is my hope that devotion to him will inspire many to follow in his footsteps.

Much attention has rightly been given to Newman’s scholarship and to his extensive writings, but it is important to remember that he saw himself first and foremost as a priest. In this Annus Sacerdotalis, I urge you to hold up to your priests his example of dedication to prayer, pastoral sensitivity towards the needs of his flock, and passion for preaching the Gospel. You yourselves should set a similar example. Be close to your priests, and rekindle their sense of the enormous privilege and joy of standing among the people of God as alter Christus. In Newman’s words, "Christ’s priests have no priesthood but His … what they do, He does; when they baptize, He is baptizing; when they bless, He is blessing" (Parochial and Plain Sermons, VI 242). Indeed, since the priest plays an irreplaceable role in the life of the Church, spare no effort in encouraging priestly vocations and emphasizing to the faithful the true meaning and necessity of the priesthood. Encourage the lay faithful to express their appreciation of the priests who serve them, and to recognize the difficulties they sometimes face on account of their declining numbers and increasing pressures. The support and understanding of the faithful is particularly necessary when parishes have to be merged or Mass times adjusted. Help them to avoid any temptation to view the clergy as mere functionaries but rather to rejoice in the gift of priestly ministry, a gift that can never be taken for granted.

Ecumenical and inter-religious dialogue assume great importance in England and Wales, given the varied demographic profile of the population. As well as encouraging you in your important work in these areas, I would ask you to be generous in implementing the provisions of the Apostolic Constitution Anglicanorum Coetibus, so as to assist those groups of Anglicans who wish to enter into full communion with the Catholic Church. I am convinced that, if given a warm and open-hearted welcome, such groups will be a blessing for the entire Church.

With these thoughts, I commend your apostolic ministry to the intercession of Saint David, Saint George and all the saints and martyrs of England and Wales. May Our Lady of Walsingham guide and protect you always. To all of you, and to the priests, religious and lay faithful of your country, I cordially impart my Apostolic Blessing as a pledge of peace and joy in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Gabriel dixit

I've just had a phone call from a very nice man called Howard, who works for Gabriel Publications. That's the people who produce The Universe—which, let me quickly reassure our foreign readers, is not a claim to be the Creator, but merely the publishers who have created our Catholic Newspaper, The Universe. I'm not really a great fan of this paper, though they do produce a magazine called Catholic Life which is really pretty good.

Gabriel Publications phone every six weeks or so, usually to persuade me to accept ('sale or return, Father') a few copies of their latest attempt to grab people's attention. Each time, my heart sinks, because I can hear in the hopeless tones of the salesman's voice that he has had a number of fruitless conversations before the one he has with me. Last time, the poor chap (I can't remember who it was I was speaking to) had had a terrible roasting from some parish priest, and I took copies simply because I felt sorry for him (and cross with my uncharitable brother, whoever he may have been).

But the truth is that my parishioners simply do not read. Or at least they do not read The Universe, Catholic Life or Catholic Truth Society publications. In some cases, this is a great shame. CTS have really got their act together now, and, as I mentioned above, Catholic Life is pretty good. A few copies of the Catholic Herald go (this, I suspect, because I used to be asked to write for it) and two copies of The Tablet (one of them to me). Apart from this, nearly nothing is sold.

I think that probably the time has come for a change of tack. Modern media has changed so much: I suspect that blogs (those better than this one, of course) have taken much of the ground of the Catholic press. So many people now get their news online that perhaps it might benefit Gabriel Press and other similar bodies to look in this area for development rather than obliging nice young men to depress themselves trying to sell newspapers to priests who take them knowing perfectly well that people won't buy them.

Martyrdom

If you're in Rome, and you get the chance, you mustn't miss the restored chapel of the English College. A really beautiful, excellent, fabulous, job has been done. I was very lucky to have been given a tour (with Fr Ray) by one of the tutors, a priest of our diocese, who expertly commented on the work.

In the tribune of the chapel are a series of illustrations demonstrating the attachment of countless Englishmen to the church, to the extent of giving their lives for the faith; these (often very bloodthirsty) pictures date originally from the mid sixteenth century; the last pictures show the martyrdom of several young alumni who must actually have been known to the first students who saw these pictures. Congratulations are due to all concerned for this excellent initiative.

It was a shame, however, that the opportunity was not taken at the same time to improve the liturgical arrangements in the chapel: the reordering work done by the same architect at St John's Wonersh was far more successful.

However, getting into the chapel is not easy, unless you know somebody there.

If you were to continue a few more yards along the Via de Monseratto, you will encounter another event. This is an exhibition concerning the work of the English Catholic martyrs of the Reformation. If you visit it, you will be charged 5 Euros. I suggest you go and spend the money on a coffee.

Two charming young Italian ladies will relieve you of your money and equip you with a badge. This is the high point of the visit. It's all down from here—literally, as the exhibition is in the basement. I cannot imagine how much money was spent on this event: there are beautiful boards throughout of excellent quality describing the course of the English Reformation in English and Italian, amply equipped with photographs—beautifully done, and, it would appear, with no expense spared.

But there is nothing that is new or interesting to anyone remotely familiar with the subject. It would be much better to go and buy a book, and then at least you will have the book to keep.

It is described as an 'exhibition', but there was not one single exhibit. Not one. There was an empty case which was supposed to have contained a book, but this had been removed.

Imagine for a minute just what this exhibition might have contained. The English College has lots of really fascinating stuff; St John's Wonersh, I am sure, would have been happy to lend its pewter recusant chalice, its fabulous recusant vestments, one (a blue chinese silk stole and chasuble still in its Mediaeval shape) having probably belonged to Whalley Abbey before, with the other liturgical colours added in a border around the vestment. There is lots of stuff at Stoneyhurst, more at Oscott (I understand, though I have never seen it)–this could have been really first rate.

Frankly, the only thing I thought even slightly interesting was the patch of Roman road that somebody (presumably Mgr Bryan Chestle) had uncovered.

I left the exhibition within five minutes, and in a bleak frame of mind. My companion slammed the door.

That evening I impaled my finger on something sharp in my pocket. It was the badge.

Roma Æterna

I've been away in Rome, so I'm sorry that some of you have had to wait to have your comments put up.

Now our Holy Father has been several years in the job, it has been interesting to see how Rome has adjusted. Perhaps the clearest evidence is to be seen liturgically.

1) I saw only two altars with (the formerly ubiquitous) two candles on one end with a bunch of flowers at the other.

2) More altars than not have some form of the 'Benedictine Arrangement', meaning that there was a crucifix centrally placed on the altar, with candles arranged to either side. Sometimes there were two candles, sometimes fork handles (as at St John Lateran), occasionally six.

3) Almost all churches were open for prayer, and there were usually people praying inside. This is entirely new: I am used to a lot of Roman churches being firmly locked. I got inside all sorts of buildings I had never seen before.

4) 'Tat Alley' (aka Via dei Cestari), a street of ecclesiastical suppliers near the Pantheon, now has all sorts of traditional vestments and impedimenta on sale. The time was when you could only buy these things from the charmingly obsequious staff of Gammarelli's ('Splenditatis Vendor') or the grumpy assistants (no, assistants is not the word; they do not assist, but glare) at Serpone. Arte Sacra was the only place you could buy reliquaries, now they are on sale everywhere. The proprietor said to a colleague that the sixties and seventies nearly put him out of business, but that now trade was very good indeed. Another fellow priest remarked that if people are prepared to pay money for things, it is valuable evidence that they really are prepared to buy into what these things stand for.

Even the iconically-Seventies Slabbinck shop had one or two things that looked nice.

5) Cassocks are still rare on the streets, but I saw many more (male) religious habits than heretofore.

6) I am told that on Saturday mornings early one may see the Traditional Mass being celebrated at many altars in St Peter's Basilica.

On the other side, the Italians still feel the need to chatter chatter chatter all the way through Mass. I don't mean the congregation; I mean the priest. There are scarcely five seconds at any point where there is not noise. I attended a Mass one morning (sort of; I was saying my office in a side chapel) where a priest talked or sang throughout without ceasing. Besides all the normal stuff, there was a lengthy introductory sermon, another before the readings, another after the readings. EP2, of course, rapidly, and then he even had an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion distribute Communion so that he could lead the congregation in the hymn, bawling into the microphone. Bizarrely, the tune was 'Oft in the stilly night'.

A priest we met on the street commented how the Italians tend to dislike solemn liturgy, but are addicted to talking and talking at Mass; the current rite of Mass addresses this need perfectly.

The New new missal

So, the CTS have been awarded the contract to print the new missals here in the UK once the recognitio has been granted by Rome. I find that encouraging. The only rivals, apparently, were St Paul's, themselves no slouches in the Catholic printing business. CTS have really got their act together in recent years; their pamphlets are incomparably better than in the not-too-distant past; not just being good in content and reasonable in price, but even looking good—something very important in an altar missal. And recently, they have shown themselves capable of mass-producing a good Bible which again looks and feels good. I do not underestimate the importance of a good-looking missal: like all other things for the Mass, it needs to look fit for purpose and itself beautiful.

In particular I am pleased that the bishops have gone for a Catholic publishing house, rather than one that has simply commercial concerns. The last contract went to Collins, who lost interest in religious publishing some fifteen or more years ago, and who were therefore not prepared to invest time and money in producing the necessary updates to the Missal that changes in the sanctoral over this period required. I am still very annoyed (though unquestionably others were to blame also) that even now we do not have propers in English made available for any saints canonized since 1975.

Somebody Who Knows quietly told me that one of the examples produced by the two competitors is 'absolutely beautiful'. I hope it is the CTS version. I gather that there are to be three sizes; big altar-size, small altar-size, and hand-size. That should suit most liturgical needs.

Kevin Mayhew, according to The Tablet, is annoyed that he was not invited to put a tender in to the bishops' conference to print the new missal. He apparently thought that he was an obvious candidate, given all his experience in producing hymn books. I guess no more needs to be added to that!

I would like to think that with modern typographical resources, it should not be impossible to tailor the new missal to each diocese, including, in other words, national and diocesan propers. If Lulu.com can produce hardback books at a reasonable price from a pdf, (even one single copy), then there is no reason why CTS could not produce batches of, say, 200 or so altar missals with diocesan propers included. My own diocese is one of the few that ever took the trouble (in recent times) to produce its own propers, and we do use them here. Other dioceses would need to get to work pronto, of course.

Mgr Graham Leonard RIP

I am sorry to hear of the death of Mgr Graham Leonard, former Anglican bishop of London, who died this morning. I have fond personal memories of his kindness.

I have not seen him now for some years; on the last occasion we met, he kindly gave the address at the launch of a book of mine, and I was fortuitously able to present him with a most appropriate gift; only that morning I had found in Thornton's bookshop a first edition of Newman's Apologia pro vita sua.

A great man; God rest his soul, and may God comfort Priscilla his wife.

Comments

Happy new year, everyone. I hope your Christmas is being enjoyable and restful as well as spiritual.

I'm sorry to have had to add word verification to the comments facility; I have been pestered with some Japanese porn advertisements which come so frequently that I suspect they are automatic. This ought to spike their guns, but forgive the extra fence that such of you as comment must jump over.

A question

Having just read through these 'evangelistic' testimonies of born-again atheists on Richard Dawkins' site, I am struck by the similarity of style in most, if not all, of the contributions.

Does this strike anyone else?

I am sure that Professor Dawkins would not do anything so dishonest as have one person write all these entries!

Notice

Holy Mass will offered by Fr Nicholas Schofield for the repose of the souls of David and Dora Foster at 1245 on Tuesday 29^th December in the Little Oratory. David Foster was the founder of the International Summer School for Young Catholics (now renamed Christ the King Summer School). The 29^th December is the first anniversary of his death. The Mass of the feast of St Thomas à Becket will be said in the Extraordinary Form.

The Eyeglass

Fr Tim the Continuous Hermenaut has blogged about eyeglasses (also known as monocles). It reminded me of a visit I made with a friend to a very remarkable priest in Normandy called Fr Quentin (or perhaps Quintin) Montgomery-Wright.

A convert clergyman, who had served as an Anglican at St Augustine's Kilburn (I think), his home being Mevagissey in Cornwall, on his conversion he had joined the diocese of Evreux in Normandy, and had been made, in the 1950s the Curé of the village of Le Chamblac and a couple of surrounding clochers.

Initially, he had been very enthused by the Liturgical Movement. Well before it was legal, he had turned his altar around and (like a few daring others) was celebrating Mass in French. He told me that his fellow priests in the deanery had accused him of being 'scarcely Catholic'. About 1967, he had found the general disintegration of things uncongenial, and, being told that nobody actually obliged him to celebrate in French, had returned to Latin, facing East on his forward-altar, and never again changed his mind.

He never entirely allied himself with Archbishop Lefevbre, though he was willing enough to have confirmations administered by the Archbishop (and also by his consecratees after the events of 1988). The famous heterodox bishop of Evreux, Jacques Gaillot, had been kind to Montgomery-Wright (no doubt thinking that if his own strange views ought to be tolerated, then so should those of others) and had not disturbed him in his parish, but a change in diocesan boundaries had landed him in another diocese where things were not so peaceable. Nonetheless he was left (more or less) alone until he tragically died in a car crash (he was a truly frightening driver, as I well remember).

His kindness has left an impression on my memory. Not only did he find room for me and my friend for a week in his ramshackle presbytery, but he also found more or less permanent room for a Downs-Syndrome man called Christian. He also sent me away with a bottle of glorious rough Calvados from some local farmer which has set up a taste for the stuff in me which has never since been satisfied by the stuff peddled in the UK, (usually laced with disgusting caramel…don't start me!)

(A ring at the door interrupted my flow: I have just had a most interesting conversation with a woman who lived in Holland during and after the Second World War).

Finally, while I was with Fr M-W, the thought struck me that here in Le Chamblac was a priest who had celebrated the traditional rites pretty continuously from the 1950s until the 1990s. Here, if anywhere, was the 'control' for the liturgical and pastoral experiment of those years. What might the Church have been like had the changes not happened? So I asked him about religious practice in his parish. Had as many ceased to come to Mass during the last thirty or forty years as had done so elsewhere? His answer was that two families had ceased to attend in Le Chamblac, but that they went instead to the French Mass in the next parish. Other than that, all families practised as they had before.

Maybe he was simply a loving and good pastor (I thought that, in any event). But I think that the figures speak for themselves.

[Rather shamefacedly] May I credit Fr Anthony Chadwick as being the source of this photo. I had assumed that, being on the internet, it was a generally available pic, and have found that this is not so from his charitable observation on the Anglo Catholic blog (ref. left). I thank him warmly for his permission to post.

Some more wonderful photographs here.

Immaculata

Over on Andrew Cusack's blog (link to the left) I think I have seen my favourite picture (to date) of Pope Benedict.

The occasion was the crowning of the statue of the Immaculata in the Piazza di Spagna.

In this second picture, from the same place, you can see, on the left, a gentleman in very Islamic costume. Puzzling? No doubt he was a diplomat from some Islamic state, but it is a reminder that the Moslems also believe (I am told) in our Lady's Immaculate Conception.

Banned!

For some strange reason, Orwell's Picnic and Australian Catholic have banned me from access to their blogs, despite me having advertised them for some time.

Funny old world.

Apologies

I'm sorry that many of you who kindly contributed comments didn't have them approved and posted until a couple of minutes ago; for some reason the normal information didn't arrive by email as it usually does, and I wasn't aware the comments were there.

All is now amended and posted (apart from some nasty pornographic advertisements in Japanese-thank you, Google Translator!)

I think we should be told……

Are the grande dame of Catholic journalism, Mary Kenny, and the other sort of dame, Edna Everage, by any chance related? I think we should be told.

Dame Edna

Dame Mary

(Or perhaps Mary Kenny needs a new photograph in the Catholic Herald.)

P.S. No offence intended. I love Mary Kenny's writing!

LMS

The LMS is running another course at Ushaw, near Durham, to help priests learn to celebrate the extraordinary form. They have asked me to publicize this, but there seems little point in repeating what is already on other sites, so if you would like to find out more, you might consult Fr Ray's blog here.

Letters

This week's Tablet carries two letters, one of which I richly enjoyed, the other I didn't.

Here's a bit from the one I did enjoy:

…I have often wondered why otherwise intelligent people spend so much time and energy writing about an entity that they are sure does not exist. Richard Dawkins, for instance, regales us with theologically spurious treatises on the non-existence of God. He is a brilliant scientist and I am an admirer of his scientific books, but why doesn't he stick to what he knows or believes to be true? Why does he waste his valuable time on things he considers non-existent or untrue? Can we expect a Dawkins book on the tooth fairy some time soon?

(Dr) Frances Dawburn

As they say on the net, LOL.

Here's the other:

While admiring the erudite and theological expertise of Rowan Williams' article in last week's Tablet, ("A gender divide - or not?" 28 November), I still believe that the male and masculine influence does women an insulting, patronising disservice.

The Church [capitalization original] I belong to is in an inclusive "Catholic" tradition with a rich eucharistic pattern of worship, based on the Christian year and fed by a wonderful choral tradition. The parish has a curate who happens to be a woman, and whose sense of priestly vocation is affirmed, loved and encouraged by most of the congregation. Soon another female curate will join the clergy team, and she will experience the same love and acceptance.

[brace yourselves!]

There are no bibilical or theological reasons for denying women in today's Church the right to be called by God to priestly ordination. Those who seek to perpetuate the view that because women happen to be women they cannot be called by God to this ministry are deluded not by theology or ecclesiology but by stubborn prejudice, fear, and other psychological issues.

David Redrobe

Let us be clear; this is an Anglican writing in a Catholic journal about the Catholic Church. I do not deny that there may be some—a few—Catholics who would applaud his words, but for sheer unecumenical jingoistic cheek this takes some beating!

Apparently, every Christian for one thousand nine hundred and fifty years has been deluded by stubborn prejudice or fear, or is a nutcase. Now, it appears, magically as from a deus ex machina, the truth has descended on this privileged group, and it is WE who are the nuts, our views held by the majority of Christendom still and the same throughout all our history, we who have no theology, no ecclesiology, but are simply screwballs!

Here we are, back in the sixteenth century; a new innovation that appears to override all other considerations in the Gospel, a 'truth' that overrides all other doctrines and marginalizes them.

Women can be priests, and those who say that they cannot are stupid, or don't know any theology, or are mad.

I'd write more, but I must go to Benediction.

Retirement: Archbishop Kevin McDonald

At the seminary this morning, in between my two hour-long lectures (to the same class, poor chaps), a notice was posted announcing the resignation of the Most Reverend Kevin McDonald, the Archbishop of Southwark, by reason of his continuing ill health. We wish him a happy retirement, and greatly improved health.

Meanwhile, another major see is up for filling………

Selling ICEL

As we begin the first Sunday of Advent, it is not without a certain amount of pleasure that I reflect that by this time next year, God willing, we will be consigning our 1975 ICEL Missals to the same dusty corner of the sacristy that used to house the old Latin Missal. As I begin the collect tomorrow, I shall be comforted by the thought that I will be using it for the last time.

Tactics over the next twelve months, though, will be crucial if there is not to be chaos. There are bound to be problems, but not all of them are unavoidable.

Some undesirable things will certainly happen. Some, perhaps many, priests (and even bishops?) will change the translation into something they like better. 'For you and for many', I can see not being used universally. And some collects and other texts have not been translated as well as they might (I'm told that the collect for the First Sunday of Advent is a case in point). Musical settings of the current translation (or paraphrases thereof) are not going to be dropped overnight.

But I hope that our bishops have learned from what happened in South Africa, where the change was introduced all of a sudden, and caused confusion and annoyance. That could easily happen here, and a widespread revolt on the topic is not impossible.

The Catholic Herald tells us that there is a plan for a phased introduction of the new version. That is a good idea. I understand from another source that the proposed plan involves the introduction, first, of the 'and with your spirit' response, in June, then, every three or four weeks, introducing another element until, by the first Sunday of Advent, the whole lot should be in place. Not a bad idea (though see my suggestion below). Unfortunately, according to a Source Close to Fruitcake House, the bishops have decided against this, but without proposing anything else. They are simply scared of the reaction to the introduction of the new missal, and don't know what to do.

Like many things, the longer you leave them, the worse the problem will become. We are not in 1970 any more, and the chance of a smooth, universally-observed implementation of the new missal is slim. We must be prepared for the fact that there is likely to be considerable liturgical divergence (perhaps even chaos) from parish to parish for a long time. Some parishes will use the new missal straight (I will). Others will modify it a little or a lot. Others will still continue to use 1975 to a greater or lesser extent. But it will settle down eventually, and if the bishops act decisively now, the period of chaos will be reduced.

I personally think that a graded introduction is a good idea. But I would start from the other end, with the priestly prayers, in fact, with the Eucharistic prayers, specifically EP3, which I think is the most satisfactory of the translations. The purpose of this is to introduce the people to the register of the new translations; they will grow to understand what it sounds like, and feels like, before being required to adjust to putting it into practice themselves.

Somebody is producing catechetical material for the introduction; I'm not sure how necessary this is, but I do hope (forlornly) that the bishops will not again put a monopoly for publication into the hands of one company (though I've heard that one applicant for the right to publish has produced an absolutely beautiful altar missal). In particular, during the period of reception, I hope that the bishops' conference will permit parishes to download, adapt and produce their own material without fear of getting into trouble—okay, frankly, what I would like is for the bishops to just let each parish priest get on with introducing the material to his own parishioners in the way he thinks it will work best for the people he knows, the process to have been completed in a year's time.

Finally, I hope that a longer period will be permitted for the introduction of new music: if we have to stop using (almost) everything we use now, in terms of Mass settings, then we will be compelled to either have said Masses, or to accepting whatever stuff is produced fastest.

Can I help?

If any Anglican priest would like to speak to a Papist priest in confidence (and be heard with sympathy, as I hope my preceding posts have indicated), they need only leave their contact details in the combox, and I will respond (naturally without publicizing their communication).

I should add that I have no influence whatever with the hierarchy. But I can listen, and may even be able to help.

This is inspired by a third-hand report of somebody who didn't know where to turn to, and who has no experience of the RC Church.