Freiburg Cathedral: The great past of Germany. Ida Görres lived in Freiburg and her funeral service was held at the cathedral.

Görres continues as our witness for the immediate post-Conciliar period. But we now encounter her in letters exchanged with a priest friend, Paulus Gordan OSB, a monk of the Abbey of Beuron, between 1962 and 1971. This correspondence was only published in 2015  – decades after the author’s death. The style of these private letters differs radically from the soporific, lecturing prose of Broken Lights. Görres’s language here is colorful, making much use of colloquialisms, slang and dialect.  Capitalization of entire words, liberal use of the exclamation point and frequent underlining further emphasize the author’s  often excited discourse. Of course, these letters are in Görres’s own language, while I had to make do with a translation for Broken Lights. ( The translations are my own; I have given the date of the letter from which a quote was taken ).

The letters Paulus Gordan sent to Görres have not been found. From the evidence of Görres’s reactions to them, however, he seems to have been your average complacent member of the clerical establishment. His main message is that there are no problems or emergencies, everything is under control, don’t get alarmed, “keep calm and carry on.”  His personal theological opinions, as reported by Görres, were progressive – he seems to have thought that his own order’s founder was “mythical”; entertained the idea of each order replacing devotion to its founder with exclusive devotion to Christ; and raged against those ignorant obscurantists opposing the Council.  Is it any wonder that in 1968 he received a high Roman post in the Benedictine Order working directly under none other than Rembert Weakland OSB?

The image of this collection’s title derives from the hopes of those who, like Ida Görres and Paulus Gordan, initially celebrated the “creative destruction” of the Council, the breaking down of walls,  regardless of the consequences. In her early letters,  Görres and Gordan  applauded (with some trepidation)the destructive forces loosed by the Council,  for, so Görres hoped, the Church would rise again like the mythical Phoenix from the ashes of the consuming fire, as it had done so often in the past! (I am not certain of the soundness of our letter writer’s grasp of ecclesiastical history.)

By 1966, however, she was not at all so sure:

No man can even guess what will be swept away and buried by the avalanche that has been set in motion. Nor, whether what will spring up as new life out of the ruins – we will not experience it –  will be really a new form of phoenix or simply something other, totally foreign, not-identical, that doesn’t involve us at all. (January 21 ,1966)

For from the beginning of this correspondence she was traumatized by the new phenomena of the 1960’s, great and small.  Some examples:

An article appeared in a Catholic publication, supporting womens’ ordination and finding that the legend of “Pope Joan” reflects an “age-old” wish of Christendom. Görres calls it ”a brazen Goebbels-like distortion of history!” (February 10, 1966).  The editor’s open support of  these views stood in stark contrast to the treatment of an article of her own on the same subject in another publication, where letters to the editor supporting Görres’s position  – which we gather was different from the first-mentioned article – were suppressed.

I have nevertheless the deepest skepticism when monks’ vows can be so easily annulled. …The pendulum has swung immoderately to the  consideration only of the purely subjective instead of, as the case earlier even to the point of cruelty, the objective.  (February 15, 1968)

Now everything at once has to be cut down to the late 20^th century. Why really?… Just as in ten years one will probably  have a fit of cramps over the greater number of churches built today  – but by then they will stand, cast in concrete and having cost millions, as a permanent horror of the incarnated soul of 1960-70 – and will remain. (November 4, 1968)

One of the strangest and most questionable traits of the present age is just this rage against the “sacred” in all areas. No abuses can really explain this rage  –  I sense behind it so much the diabolical offensive.”(March 7, 1968) Later in the same letter, however, she astutely ties it to “democracy.”

(Görres received a letter from an acquaintance visiting India who reported) that on the ship were ten Catholic priests who mostly concelebrated “in an incredible competitive tempo to see who could talk the fastest” –  so much so that friend travelling with her, who wanted to turn to Christianity, was so disgusted that she decided not to concern herself any more with Catholic Church but rather to approach Protestantism. (April 7, 1968)

Görres was disgusted with the invitation of her “Pan-European” brother Richard to take part in some kind of St. Benedict ceremony in Subiaco. Her brother told her of the event over the phone, laughing loudly. “The old mocker and cynic, who believes in nothing but himself and his “Pan-Europe”(whatever that is).  … He visited the pope a few years ago and the picture is hilarious. He made a face like that of a patronal lord of olden times who has just condescended most graciously to visit his village priest.” (June 19, 1970)

A special cross for Ida Görres was the departure from the priesthood or religious life of acquaintance after acquaintance who had, she thought,  in their lives harmonized Catholicism and ecumenism, modernity, etc. One American Jesuit, well-known to her, who left that order to marry, actually used the later Bergoglian term “Lord of Surprises” in justifying his actions! (April 21, 1969)

Yet,  we must remember that Görres largely confined these thoughts to private correspondence. Outwardly, Ida Görres, a classic “professional Catholic,” continued to fulfill the role assigned to her by the Church establishment; that of the mildly progressive but obedient daughter. In these very years, for example,  she published books and articles about “Saint” Teilhard de Chardin as she once did about St. Theresa of Lisieux – it was almost self-parody. She wrote a review attacking Dietrich von Hildebrand’s Trojan House in the City of God  – although privately she agreed with much  of what he wrote. It seemed that after the Council  criticism of the existing Church  – as in Broken Lights  – was no longer desired. Unless, that is, it emanated from the progressive wing.

Finding herself to be more and more some kind of “conservative,”  Görres  looked about for like-minded religious and intellectuals. She quoted a message to her from Mother Theresa: “Write for the very simple people, tell them what the Council really wanted….The Council must have been really a great thing since the devil makes much effort to confuse and erase its sense”  ( July 27,  1968.) Neither Görres nor Mother Theresa adduces any evidence for this statement which later became an article of faith among conservative Catholics.

But Görres’s new hero was one Joseph Ratzinger. “By the way I have found my prophet in Israel!”  She praised him effusively: “he can become the theological conscience of the German Church” – and contrasted him favorably with the “compromised” von Hildebrand.  (November 28, 1968) At least initially, Fr. Ratzinger does not seem to have reciprocated the interest of his garrulous admirer.  An initial communication from Görres received a cold, formal reply. And Fr Ratzinger was not at all amused when Mr. and Mrs. Görres “dropped in” at his dwelling to visit him.  A second meeting in the town of Regensburg apparently went much better but no details are provided. (July 15, 1970)

Things came to a head in 1970 with the start of preparations for the Würzburg Synod (1971-75) which would set the course of the “German Catholic Church” for decades. Invited to participate, Ida Görres now would have to assume a public role instead of  remaining an observer and commentator. She had the misfortune to experience firsthand how far affairs had progressed in Germany since the Council.   Görres was by now completely out of step with the times, a “dinosaur” ( she compared herself to Rip van Winkle). We can sympathize with our author’s hurt vanity when someone, meaning to be kind,  told her she had read in the 1930’s a few things by Görres and how much it had influenced her….

Again and again Görres lamented the lack of character and strength exhibited throughout this synodal process by the clergy religious and especially the hierarchy.  In a kind of “listening session” early on,  she and a few other members of the synod had to sit “in the dock” before a crowd of 100 students “not paper tigers, but paper sheep, without initiative,  fire or insight and only spouting clichés.”  The attending student chaplain declared “they would not let anyone ‘take intercommunion away from us‘ – which they were already practicing.” (December 4, 1970)

“The bishop is a poor silly goose, really pathetic. He sat fearful, defensive, intimidated and only gasped when something displeased him.” ( December 20, 1970).  There was much talk but no real conversations or exchange of ideas. She was shocked that an assembly of this kind was supposed to make decisions. Görres objected to the practice of selecting synod participants by their membership in this or that group or class: women,  students , workers, youth etc. ( a practice that has become normative everywhere today).   “The bishops are ‘as silent as eggs’ as the Japanese proverb has it“– one of them indeed was “soft as wax.” (February 15, 1971).   On the other side of the fence were “choleric personalities, dynamic,  impatient, terribles simplificateurs, demanding  immediate action and lacking the patience to think things thorough in a multifaceted analysis. Goethe: “nothing is more dangerous than active ignorance.’ ”  Under the circumstances, Görres had to play too often the role of the enfant terrible – “but the reaction was not hostile, mocking or even lenient-tolerant  – just  totally non-comprehending.” (May 11, 1971)

In the second official session of the synod Görres collapsed and died. She fell, as her fellow hagiographer Walther Nigg put it,
“on the field of honor” (in other words, on the battlefield). Her funeral took place in Freiburg cathedral – she and her husband had been living in that town for many years.  Fr. Joseph Ratzinger gave the homily.

As we have seen, the status of the Church in Germany in the 1950’s – a nation so influential at Vatican  II,  was a most unlikely foundation for spiritual renewal. On the contrary, the  climate prevailing among the elite was not of emerging sanctity and sacrifice but of  intellectual conceit,  carping criticism, deference to modern society and dissatisfaction with the entire remaining body of “Catholic culture” ( the “Catholic milieu” or the “ghetto”).  It made inevitable the crisis that exploded as soon as the Council gave these tendencies official approval. Almost immediately symptoms of disintegration manifested themselves in almost every aspect of Catholic life.

In this maelstrom, a minority of Catholics like Ida Görres very much wanted to retain their progressive credentials and remain a part of the establishment yet nevertheless couldn’t close their eyes to events and facts.  Görres could no longer engage in wishful thinking and fables about the advantages of destruction and rebirth or conceal from the general public – and herself –  the facts of the scale of the “avalanche”  overwhelming the Church. She and like-minded people rejected Traditionalism and the strict defense of the Latin Mass which were just then in their infancy. Some of the positions and alliances which Görres did privately endorse later became part of the repertoire of  “Conservative Catholicism.”  But for Ida Görres none of this support had yet materialized. She succumbed, abandoned by the hierarchy at their own synod. We have seen in our own time how her fearful vision of the Catholic Church being transformed into something utterly alien has become so terribly true, at least for Germany.

Within a few years she was completely forgotten. But she has left us a precious record of those days – a record not just of facts but also of surprisingly  prophetic insights.  A legacy doubly important as these same issues and the same leadership continue to haunt us today – and not just in Germany.

 

(Above) Ida Görres

 

Broken Lights: Diaries and Letters 1951-1959
by Ida Friederike Görres

Translated by Barbara Waldstein-Wartenberg (The Newman Press, Westminster 1964) (German edition: 1960)

“Wirklich die neue Phönixgestalt?”  Über Kirche und Konzil: Unbekannte Briefe 1962-1971 an Paulus Gordan

by Ida Friederike Görres

Hanna-Barbara Gerl-Falkovitz (Editor) (Be & Be Verlag, Heiligenkreuz, 2015)

 

You may wonder why I speak of the “collapse” of the German Church. Hasn’t the German Catholic Church – their theologians, their charitable organizations and above all their government money –  acquired unprecedented influence over the entire Catholic Church under Pope Bergoglio?  I am referring, however, to a transformation that took place between 1945 and 1971, in which the Church in Germany acquired an entirely different substance while retaining the hallmarks of the past:  institutions, folklore, pretty churches and orchestral masses. A “sea-change” which would  – except for certain pockets of resistance – eventually almost extinguish the practice of Catholicism in that country.

Ida Görres is an important witness to this transformation – initially, as a committed supporter of change,  then, as an aghast observer of calamity. Her background may be surprising: born in 1901 into Austrian nobility (her brother was the one-Europe, one-world agitator Richard van Condenhove-Kalergi; her mother was  Japanese). She had married  Carl-Josef Görres;  I have found no reference indicating he is a relation of the great 19th century Catholic journalist and thinker Joseph von Görres.  A committed Catholic writer, Ida Görres was best known for her hagiographical works of the 1930’s and 40’s  – for example, on Mary Ward and Theresa of Lisieux.

From 1950,  she was compelled to live as an invalid – so most of the first book we are considering,  Broken Lights,  takes the form of reflections on her reading.  In her diary and letters Görres rambles over all kinds of topics, but returns again and again to her own vocation of hagiography. She discusses many saints and holy people,  major and minor. And even the living: for example, there is a reference to Mother Theresa some 15 years or more before she became generally known in the English-speaking world (p. 196). I certainly would like to know more about some of these figures!

The general tenor of Ida  Görres’s remarks is one of unease and dissatisfaction with the Church.  She seems on the quest of a new “core” underneath the inadequate exterior of contemporary Catholicism, a pearl under the ugly shell of the oyster:

Nothing saddens me more at the moment than the pitiable mediocrity and flatness of Catholic Christendom – I can hardly find one redeeming feature anymore. (p. 51)

And, of course, there are references to the Catholic “ghetto.”

Perhaps as a result, Ida Görres ranged widely afield in her reading: Jewish texts, gnostic writings, mystical and spiritual literature of all kinds,  novels –  but also Newman and C.S. Lewis. I cannot say that everything she says on this mass of reading is  insightful – she excoriates Simone Weil but has some semi-positive words for The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale!

Even in her chosen field of hagiography, the strongly Catholic figures that that once fascinated her are now found to be inadequate or at least in need a radical reinterpretation:

In one way Mary Ward has grown rather strange to me, remote.  For her external story represents a model belonging to the very earliest phases of my spiritual life, a model now outdated; the typical zealous figure –   almost zealot – of the Counter Reformation.

I have been ruminating on Mother Francis Xavier Cabrini, surely a classical example of that special, perfectly genuine and lawful brand of Christian piety which can be completely unintelligent… In 67 years of holiness truly lived… there is no record of a single “unforgettable sentence”… Completely devoid of self-reflection. One feels almost inclined to say: if animals could be holy, they would be holy this way. (p. 364)

For me, the attitudes, as revealed in his book, of our author and, even more so, of some of her dialogue partners reflect negative characteristics of  German Catholicism that have remained until the present day: the striving to appear smarter, not to be holier,  than others; the constant assertion of an allegedly enlightened present over previous years of ignorance and conformity; the resulting compulsion to jump on the band wagon of current secular trends; and, finally, resentments against the concrete manifestations and heritage of a (at that time, still extant) Catholic culture.

Now it would be unfair to regard Ida Görres as a mere scribe for the platitudes prevailing in 1950’s Catholic intellectual circles. Here and there she exhibits flashes of brilliance, makes pointed observations, dissents from the intellectual mainstream. Such as in her extensive reflections on marriage – both mystical and concrete, e.g.: If marriages are going to remain deliberately sterile, then there is no longer any logical, conclusive argument against homosexuality (p.112).  Or her decidedly un-Maritainian view of the United States:  For me America is a symbol: symbol of the sort of ”modernism” I cannot endorse or acknowledge and can only accept with inner protest…. (p. 321).  Or her repeated expressions of her joy in the (old) liturgy: I just revelled in that High Mass at Beuron Abbey on All Saints’ day. Once again “the liturgy as drama”, nothing purposeful about it,  praise and thanks giving to God as art pour l’art, as natural as the liturgy of the angels before the heavenly throne, devoid of all pastoral instructional “consideration” for the congregation which, for that very reason, was carried away by it all, borne on its wings. (p. 329)  This,  in the face of one of her acquaintances denouncing this very celebration as mere “spectacle,” “play acting with the congregation just spectators.”

And, finally, what of this weirdly prophetic passage,  resonating so clearly at this very moment:

(Referring to actions supported by the Rockefeller Institute in the Philippines)   Most extraordinary how nowadays the craze for health can authorize super democratic – professionally democratic – people to resort to the kind of cold-blooded sanitary terror enforced in… areas stricken by epidemics and pestilence. These shock-troops coolly did things which, done in a political cause, would be branded as the most flagrant infringement of human rights of every kind. Here they are apparently taken for granted, indeed even regarded as humane and commendable: houses broken into by force, families torn apart, removal of the sick, destruction of property, houses and furniture etc. … the author’s casual comment: “our educational campaign against these deep-seated prejudices was like a conversion to a new religion” is much more telling than he knew: a new cult and a new scale of values was indeed introduced here. (pp. 259-260 )

Towards the end of the book Ida Görres does sense that she had fallen behind the current tide:

I know you (and lots of other people) think I’m too “Right-wing”, “Papist” , conformist, old-fashioned, too submissive to the clergy. (p. 313)

Yet she nevertheless reaffirms her faith in the “Church to come” and views herself as a transitional figure:

The Church of Today, which is as much my concern as the Church of Tomorrow is that of the reformers. In me the present Church in changing if only in one tiny fragment, into the Church  to come – that is the nucleus and meaning of my destiny (p. 315).

This book witnesses that the German Catholic Church of 1959 was in a  “pre-revolutionary” situation (much like that of France in 1789).  And just as in 1789, the Vatican and the bishops didn’t seem to comprehend what was going on. The “good old days” of Pius XII really didn’t exist. The old landmarks had become obscured  –  the new had not yet come into view. Therefore, the title of Görres’s book in the original German is well chosen: Between the Ages (or Times).

A word needs to be said about the 1964 English-language edition. By that year, the Catholic Church in England was itself being rocked by first wave of the Vatican II changes. Four years after its initial publication, Ida Görres‘s book was furnished with a new title emphasizing not just transition, but the collapse of the old order: Broken Lights.  And some not very accurate comments provided on the dust jacket simplified and radicalized the message of the book:

Her particular interests center on the discrepancies between the beliefs and practices of Catholics, between the conventional, false images of God and His true Revelation and upon the many manifestations of the ultra, ultra Catholic conservatives with tight, closed, prim, authoritarian and infallible views.

.

 

Una Voce: The History of the Foederatio Internationalis Una Voce

Leo Darroch
(Gracewing, Leominster 2017)

I have long been interested in the story of American Catholic Traditionalism. Una Voce: the History of the Foederatio Internationalis Una Voce is an account of Una Voce, one of the main protagonists in Europe,  written by a former president of that organization. I find it an invaluable contribution to our knowledge of the survival of Traditionalism – yet some major reservations and qualifications are necessary.

To start, this book might be more accurately titled “Materials for the History of the Foederatio Internationalis Una Voce.” For Darroch’s book is in no way a complete history of the Una Voce federation, let alone that of post-Vatican II Traditionalism. Rather, it is the story of the center or headquarters of the Una Voce organization, its status reports and above all its discussions over the years with Vatican representatives. The president of Una Voce (international) freely admits that at times he has very little idea of what is happening in the local chapters, where much of the actual work of the federation in education and publication was being done. Some of these, such as the UK and German chapters, were established early and continued to play a major role throughout the period covered by this book. Others, like the United States organization,  flowered early, vanished and reappeared in different reincarnations.

One would very much like to hear more of the experiences of the main national chapters. The Latin Mass Society of the UK, for example, was involved in the granting in 1971 of the only real concession  to the Traditional Mass made by Rome prior to 1984/88: the “English” indult. (This book, however, makes clear how extremely limited this concession was.) There is also mention that in some chapters a more defiant attitude regarding celebrating the Old Mass continued to exist  “under the radar screen” of the international headquarters.

The format of this book may also be challenging for readers other than dedicated historians. For the text consists largely of verbatim reports, interviews, minutes of meetings and letters, at the expense of a coherent narrative. Questions of substance and procedural intricacies, fundamental discussions of principle and bureaucratic trivia are freely mingled here; critical issues arise and are then suddenly dropped in mid-stream. On the other hand, a chief contribution of Darroch’s book is indeed the generous selection of excerpts from the original documents!

We have spoken of the president of Una Voce. This book is indeed largely  the history of one man, Eric de Saventhem,  the founding president of the International Federation, who sustained the efforts  of the federation’s center with his energy, persistence – and, probably, financial resources. It is to his credit, first,  that at least some central point of contact was retained for the “Uniate” ( basically, “non-Lefebvrian”) Traditionalists. Second, Una Voce preserved throughout the decades its advocacy of  the pre-Conciliar Mass and never deviated into the so-called Latin (Novus Ordo)Mass that gained such a hold on “Conservative Catholics” in the US. Third, de Saventhem left us such memorable and visionary statements of principle as:

A renaissance will come: asceticism and adoration as the mainspring of direct total dedication to Christ will return. Confraternities of priests, vowed to celibacy and to an intense life of prayer and meditation will be formed. Religious will regroup themselves into houses of ‘strict observance.” A new form of ‘Liturgical Movement” will come into being, led by young priests and attracting young people, in protest against the flat, prosaic, philistine or delirious liturgies which will soon overgrow and finally smother even the recently revised rites…

It is important that these new priests and religious, these new young people with ardent hearts, should find—if only in corner of the rambling mansion of the Church—the treasure of a true sacred liturgy… (Address to the Una Voce United States chapter in June 1970)

How could the aspirations be better articulated – and so early on! – for a movement that would demand so much personal sacrifice with so little hope of success over so many decades?

De Saventhem had, however, far less success as a would-be ecclesiastical politician. His attempts over the decades to obtain some kind of concession or deal from the Roman authorities
with whom he was in fairly regular contact had, by his own admission, absolutely no success prior to the indults of the 1980’s. And, as we can infer from this book, the concessions of the Indults were entirely due to the efforts of Archbishop Lefebvre, not those of Una Voce. Indeed, de Saventhem’s bureaucratic maneuvers and proposed compromises served only to undermine the credibility of a movement allegedly based on the highest principles. Inevitably, wishful thinking seems to color de Saventhem’s reports. At times, he grasped for signs of papal favor (under Paul VI!); on other occasions he talks of parties in the Vatican more or less sympathetic with the Tradionalist cause.   One feels thrust back into the era of the Cold War Kremlinologists, who in search of the will-o’-the -wisp of détente, constantly sought to identify alleged “moderate” and “hardline” factions in the Soviet leadership. It was a futile endeavor for Una Voce as well: the rudeness, arrogance and duplicity of the Vatican and the hierarchy in general is laid out here in great detail. One should read this book to understand the FSSPX’s well-founded distrust of the Vatican. There is also abundant evidence of the vacillations of Pope John Paul II.

Archbishop Lefebvre, on the other hand,  after a late start even subsequent to the foundation of Una Voce, focused on preserving the celebration of the Traditional mass at all costs and, increasingly, regardless of ecclesiastical permissions. To do that he began by training missionary priests in his own seminary adding schools, communities of sisters and  affiliates such as Traditional Benedictines, Dominicans and Redemptorists – and, finally, in his most dramatic step, bishops. It was a course of action that had been put on the table in the early days of the formation of Una Voce but not adopted (at least not by the federation’s headquarters).  De Saventhem seems to have been in communication now and then with the Archbishop whose movement, in contrast to the static situation of Una Voce, continued its steady and relentless growth.

Of course, this was not just a case of mistaken tactics on the part of de Saventhem.  More fundamental factors were in play, whether or not the main players of that era could or would have been willing to articulate them. De Saventhem remained in practice wedded to an “ultramontane” ecclesiology wherein the liturgy was the creation and property of the papacy. Therefore, the principal focus of Una Voce’s center was  “negotiations with” ( for most of this period, more accurately: “supplication of”) the relevant Roman authorities. Archbishop Lefebvre, however, given his background as a missionary, must have sensed the radical loss of faith underlying the developments of the 1960’s. While Una Voce – or at least its central leadership – saw saving the Mass as a bureaucratic exercise, Lefebvre understood it as a spiritual problem, a challenge of evangelization requiring the radical refounding and reconstitution of Church institutions. Of course, Archbishop Lefebvre’s  policy was also superior from the purely secular perspective of negotiation tactics (he was, after all, conducting his own discussions with the Holy See).  For while de Saventhem could only talk to the Roman prelates of the personal attachment of some of the faithful to the Old Rite, citing petitions and surveys, Lefebvre commanded a growing institutional following that was causing acute embarrassment to Rome. Something had to be done!

The indult of 1984 and even more so the motu proprio Ecclesia Dei of 1988 combined with  Archbishop Lefebvre’s ordination of bishops in that year changed all this. A large number of Lefebvre’s priests and affiliates could not follow him in the latter action. Suddenly,  Una Voce acquired substantial institutional and clerical allies. Now there was indeed more to talk about at the Vatican as Ecclesia Dei was rolled out! Furthermore, the hostility of the Roman authorities softened somewhat and there was a new dialogue partner – the Ecclesia Dei commission. Nevertheless, Una Voce had to contend with the unabated hostility to Traditionalism of other ecclesiastics in and outside of the Vatican who would continue to defy implementation of the 1988 Indult.

 

The most dramatic incident of the post-Indult years occurred, however, under the presidency of Michael Davies, who succeeded de Saventhem in 1995. For it was under his watch in 2000 that the future conservative hero, Cardinal Castrillon Hoyos, launched out of a clear blue sky an underhanded attempt to impose “adaptations” derived from the Novus Ordo on the Traditional liturgy. Davies and Una Voce, exhibiting greater firmness than the preceding Una Voce administration had shown, resolutely opposed this move. The initiative, which would have destroyed non – FSSPX Traditionalism, was quietly allowed to die. Here Una Voce did indeed show its worth.

 

There are many other gems and curious facts scattered about the pages of this book. It is admittedly incomplete. Yet, if you want to get a sense of what in particular early Catholic Traditionalism was like – and the forces it had to contend with – it’s a great place to start

We had previously reviewed Professor Daniel J. Mahoney’s somewhat ambiguous assessment of the Bergoglio pontificate in a book of his published in 2018:

The Idol of Our Age.

Now, however, Prof. Mahoney has dispelled ambiguity in this devastating article in National Review which neatly summarizes a variety of critiques of  Pope Francis and his entourage:

Pope Francis, Wayward Shepherd

“The religion of humanity, and the accompanying dictatorship of relativism, are deeply ingrained in the Church of Rome, and at the highest levels of the Church at that. Providence may save the Church from becoming a branch of the religion of humanity at prayer, but only if faithful Catholics allow themselves to become righteous and truth-telling agents of our loving and provident God.”

On the Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

by Father Richard Gennaro Cipolla

 

Today I offered, as did many other priests, a Votive Mass for Peace, with a commemoration, of course, of SS. Vincent and Anastasius. I did so on the anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision that legalized abortion in the United States.  The Collect and the readings make it quite clear that the Peace of which we are speaking and for which we are asking has little to do with peace as understood by the world.  The Collect says it best: “O God, from Whom are holy desires, right counsels, and just works, give to Thy servants that peace which the world cannot give; that our hearts being devoted to the keeping of Thy commandments, and the fear of enemies removed, our times, by Thy protection, may be peaceful.” The peace we are asking for in this Mass is not freedom from anxiety and the tempests of this world, nor from the obligations of the Catholic in this world, a world that denies and opposes the moral law of Christ founded on love of God. We are not asking for “peace in the world”, per se.  We are asking for that peace that only God can give, that peace that is an inner glimpse of the peace of heaven.

 

The epistle from 2 Maccabees asks that God will “ give you all a heart to worship Him, and to do His will with a great heart and a willing mind. May He open your heart in His law, and in His commandments, and send you peace. “  This reading makes it clear that this peace is firmly linked to the worship of God and to doing his Will, that Will enshrined in the Law of God. The primacy of the worship of God for the Catholic has certainly been eroded in the past forty years, and this erosion is surely at the heart of the weakened and broken state of the Church today.

But it is the Gospel for the Mass above all that reminds us what we often forget in an age of sentimental worship where the understanding of peace has degenerated into handshakes and waves. This Gospel is familiar to us, for it is read on Low Sunday every year. The resurrected Christ comes through the locked doors of the Upper Room and says to his disciples: “Peace be to you.” Then Luke adds:  “And when He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side.” The Peace of Christ cannot be separated from, and in fact is founded upon, the suffering and death of the Lord on the Cross.  The Peace of Christ has little to do with the peace of the world. It is not an absence of conflict and strife, but rather the gift of the knowledge from faith that Christ has overcome the world of sin and death.  The encounter with St. Thomas and the invitation to touch Christ’s wounds further emphasize the radical difference between what the world calls peace and what the Peace that passes all understanding is.

 

What does this have to do with the March on Washington which includes so many Catholics, who are right now witnessing to the Right to Life based on their faith in the God who is the source of all life?  It must be said clearly that the law of the land, which in this case is truly unjust, nevertheless can never solve or eliminate transgressions of the moral law of God.  The ambiguity of the situation must be made clear, an ambiguity that is part of being a Christian in a non-believing world.  The goal of an end to all abortions is not achievable in this world.  While it is true that it is a scandal that in this country abortion is seen as a “right” included in “life, liberty and happiness”, it is also true that this grievous sin is part of the sinful and obstinate state of the world, the “World” that St. John sees so clearly in his Gospel, the World that  is always in opposition to the Truth of God in Jesus Christ and will be so until the end of time at the Second Coming.

 

To march publicly in protest is the point of the Washington March for Life.   This is an act of witness.  But to use this act of witness in the hope that the Supreme Court will overturn Roe v. Wade to “end the scourge of abortion” is to misunderstand the use of law, for the law cannot prevent crime, the law is never the final answer in a fallen world, and the law of the world can never be the Law of God, again, in a fallen world.  The individual Catholic must witness to the Law of Love not only once a year in the March for Life.  His or her whole life must witness to the Law of Love, and this, and only this, will change hearts and minds, and this is what we must do and hope for.

The Catholic Church today finds herself in the unenviable position of organizing marches for life when her own life is threatened by those within her fold who support moral corruption and corruption of the Faith of Catholic Tradition that founded on the Apostolic Tradition, and manifested in the Traditional worship of the Church.  It is the secular law that forced the bishops of the Church to confront the crimes of her priests.  As destructive and disgusting as the moral crimes of her priests in the sex scandals are,  the greater scandal is that the bishops did nothing about this moral rot in the Church until the secular law came after them.  But the secular law cannot force the bishops to address the deeper disease of the rot of Faith itself that so deeply enfeebles the Church of Jesus Christ today.

 

There is no way to make peace with the World.  We must stop looking there, we must stop wanting to be accepted by the World.  We must minister to the World, absolutely. We must never turn our backs on the World. We must do what we can wherever we can to see that Love conquers the deep selfishness of the World.  But in the end, we must realize that our longing for the Peace that passes all understanding can never be realized in its fulness in this world of sin and death.  And that should not make us sad at all, for at every Mass we encounter in a real way, a way that transcends this space and time, the One who has overcome the World, He alone who can give us that Peace we so long for, the One who alone is our hope for the salvation of the World of sin and death, who alone is our hope for the Peace of Everlasting Life.

The double-headed eagle of the Holy Roman Empire adorns a well-known restaurant in the Kaiserstuhl  area of Baden, Germany: up to 1806 part of the Holy Roman Empire (and Austria)

 

 

The Holy Roman Empire: A Short History

By Barbara Stollberg-Rilinger

Translated by Yair Mintzker

Princeton University Press

Princeton, 2018

 

Some years ago, I attended a conference of lawyers  in Salzburg. I was walking through the streets of that magical city with a professor from an American law school, who marveled at the great architecture surrounding us.   I informed him there was a reason for this: Salzburg in the past had been not a provincial Austrian city. but the capital of a substantial principality of the Holy Roman Empire. That fascinated him: “the Holy Roman Empire…. the Holy Roman Empire….” he kept saying to himself as we continued our walk.

Yes, it is a mysterious entity,  this Holy Roman Empire, which existed in one form or another between 800/962 and 1806. Throughout  most of this time it was closely linked with Germany- only for a period in the 13th century did the center of gravity shift to Italy.

Barbara Stollberg-Rilinger has written, as the title indicates, a “short history” of the Holy Roman Empire – actually only of its last three centuries. 1) It covers the period ca. 1490 to 1806 – when the Empire had been  “repurposed” as a German national kingdom. But this transformation was never complete. Central Europe never become another France or United Kingdom. This history it is more a constitutional or structural history – Prof. Stollberg-Rilinger emphasizes less what the Empire actually did.

But these last three centuries of the Empire, even if a period of weakness compared to the Empire‘s  medieval golden years, was still an era of real political accomplishments. The Holy Roman Empire was directly involved in all the major events of Europe; its diffuse structure enabled the Protestant Reformation to take root. But, paradoxically, this same lack of unity enabled Catholicism to survive in Germany – especially in the imperial or Austrian lands that had remained Catholic. From roughly 1480 to 1720 the Empire led the defense of the West against the Ottoman Turks, a struggle in which the German lands – not Poland  – did the overwhelming share of the fighting. These wars culminated in the recovery of  all of Hungary for Christendom.

The Empire’s political  complexity and religious antagonisms led to the catastrophe of the Thirty Years War. Yet from the low point of 1648 – the end of that struggle – the Empire recovered to lead the defense against France in the West, Sweden in the North and the Ottoman Turks in the East. By 1718 German princes occupied the thrones of Great Britain, Hungary and Poland. Denmark had become essentially a German state, and Sweden had its German possessions reduced to a fraction of their former size. It was a remarkable restoration! But soon thereafter came the conflict between Prussia and Austria, each of which disposed of resources dwarfing those of the Empire of which they were largely a part. Finally, the Empire collapsed under the blows of the French revolutionary armies and of Napoleon.

The Empire’s legacy in art, culture and architecture is overwhelming. “Take Germany’s best years(1660-1760)” as Ezra Pound put it.  Why is Prague today such an incomparable gem?- not because it is the capital of a third-rate Central European state, but because it served on several occasions as the de facto capital of the Holy Roman Empire. The same, of course, can be said of Vienna – only here the legacy of the Empire in obscured by 19th century construction. Beyond the imperial capitals, there are the architectural masterpieces of all the bewildering variety of the former estates of the Empire: the imperial abbeys ( e.g., Ottobeuren); the imperial cities (Rothenburg and Regensburg); and the prince-bishoprics (Bamberg and the above-mentioned Salzburg). And the achievements of these last imperial ages were not confined to architecture and the visual arts but embraced music, philosophy and, especially towards the end of this era, literature.

The study of the Holy Roman Empire takes on added significance in the light of the recent “Catholic Integralism” discussion. For the “Holy” Roman Empire is by definition characterized by a union of the temporal and the sacred.  It is a Catholic Empire. This did not necessarily earn it the approbation of 19th century and later ultramontanes. For the Empire was anything but a passive tool in the hands of the papacy.  For example, in the period covered by Prof. Stollberg-Rilinger,  Emperor Charles V, after sacking Rome in 1527, was instrumental in convening the Council of Trent against significant opposition in the Vatican. The Council assembled in Trent, a city, although not German-speaking, of the Empire. This religious dimension of the Empire, in my view,  does not receive a totally adequate  treatment in this book.

Although brief, this book may be relatively challenging for the American reader. It seems to presuppose a fairly good knowledge of German and Central European history, culture and geography – even if it does explain where Silesia is located or who Goethe is (presumably these are additions by  the translator).   With that reservation, The Holy Roman Empire: a Short History is a useful handbook enabling the reader to put in the proper political framework what are otherwise apparently unconnected religious, artistic and cultural developments. So, I notice it is offered for sale at the current exhibition Maximilian: the Last Knight at the Metropolitan Museum.

Regrettably the two forewords to this book are typical of present-day academia in Germany and the United States.  Prof.  Stollberg-Rilinger worries that  the methodology of her book could be interpreted as a “political move,” which is understandable given that her own foreword is largely devoted to the discussion of post–19^th century ideological issues.  Then there is the foreword of the translator. Yair Mintzker describes the book as targeting a “broad audience”  then devotes paragraphs to an exposition of the interrelationships among academics currently working in the field of the Holy Roman Empire.  Having translated a book often concerned with details of  terminology, he refers to the “Austrian Empress Maria Theresa.” And of course, like every American professor, he must utilize a discussion of the most remote topic to launch an attack on Trump. “Almost all Americans ” he informs us, “accept as legitimate  the election of Donald J. Trump.” How gracious of them to accept incontrovertible facts! You see, this was the product of  of a series of “fictions” that the outcome of elections represents the will of the people. Prof. Mintzker’s understanding of the purpose and workings of the United States constitution is decidedly limited.

 

But these things are of our time. I would hope the reader of The Holy Roman Empire: A Short History would be inspired by it to delve more deeply into a fascinating polity and its culture!

 

1. The original German title more accurately conveys the scope of the book: The Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation: from the End of the Middle Ages to 1806.

The  imperial eagle in Colmar, Alsace (up to 1635 part of the Empire)

The Idol of our Age: How the Religion of Humanity subverts Christianity

by Daniel J. Mahoney

Encounter Books; New York and London 2018

The Antichrist!  – how often his specter had haunted artists, philosophers and others “spiritually perceptive” since the consolidation of the modern world! It seems a widely shared perception that he cannot be far from an era of religious collapse and ideological fraud. In more recent years, the radical break with Christian morality of the Western establishment, coupled with the growing acquiescence of the Christian churches in their own liquidation, has made the issue more topical than ever. Chilton Williamson, reviewing the recent “religious” service in the Washington cathedral, commemorating John McCain and castigating President Trump, declared that the only god of the American establishment is themselves. Yet the self-understanding of said establishment is still that of a benevolent universal ruler, dispensing prosperity and liberation throughout the world.

Prof. Daniel Mahoney summarizes the findings of thinkers who have confronted one aspect or other of this transition from Christianity to a humanistic cult or better stated,  the merger of the two. Professor Mahoney is well acquainted with subject matter – he recently written an introduction for a new translation of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s diaries – written after he came to the West in the 1970’s. Prof. Mahoney has assembled a set of witnesses, some well-known, others less so, some stern prophets of disaster, others enthusiastic heralds of a coming transformation of the world. The common theme is the dawning of a new age and a new religion where man alone is god.

Prof. Mahoney draws on the insights of Aurel Kolnai to frame the discussion.  Kolnai wrote of the negative nature of humanism and of  its absolute incompatibility with Christianity, of the “primordial contrast” between humanitarian and Christian morality. And he wrote these thoughts in an essay published in 1944, when the new regime was, by  its own estimation then and now, on the verge of celebrating its greatest triumph. Prof. Mahoney helpfully reprints that essay in this book.

Orestes Brownson is perhaps unfamiliar in this context, but he personally lived out an early version of the humanist ethics in an early predecessor of a “hippy” commune! August Comte, in the same era, also describes the possibility of creating a humanist society, but writes as an avid advocate of it. He is fascinating because his system explicitly acknowledges “humanism” as a substitute religion.

A high point of this book- or of any discussion of these matters – is Vladimir Soloviev’s incomparable A Short Tale of the Antichrist, an allegory of the advent of a humanitarian Antichrist. Soloviev,  the “Russian Newman,” strove to overcome the division between Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism. His Antichrist is a mild bringer of terrestrial ease and happiness. He is able to seduce most of the Protestant, Orthodox and Catholic Christians by offering them, in exchange for submission to the world and to him, the secular goods they secretly desire. Soloviev’s tale builds toward a dramatic, appropriately apocalyptic climax.  A Short Tale of the Antichrist is a part of Soloviev’s Three Conversations which is also remarkable for a parable justifying war (and, we might add, capital punishment) both of which remain anathema to the modern humanist ethos.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn is cited mainly for his criticism of Tolstoy – in his day, at least in some respects, a humanist hero for his advocacy of nonviolence, the return to the land his disdain for traditional Christianity.

Prof. Mahoney now turns from the past to consideration of the present. For is not the regime of the American and Western European establishment the preeminent modern manifestation of modern humanism? And isn’t Pope Francis the exemplar of such humanism masquerading in pseudo- religious trappings?

“As we have noted, the present pontiff, no Antichrist to be sure, is half-humanitarian” Prof. Mahoney assures us. (surely a historic low point in papal apologetics!) But hasn’t our author squarely raised the issue himself  by juxtaposing in this book Soloviev’s vision of an Antichrist of mercy with a discussion of Bergoglio, the “Pope of mercy?” And, in all honesty, isn’t what Mahoney says about this topic the real interest of this book?

Prof. Mahoney compiles a catalogue (or is it an indictment?) of Pope Francis’s “humanitarian ” statements and actions. The pope and his acolytes  “sow confusion among the faithful and give into the pressures of the secular world.” Francis’s “discussion” of marriage is “marred” by a tendency to redefine Christian family life in terms of “values” that the Church presents to the world.  The Church’s teaching is presented as an “ideal” as to which most people “will fall short.”  The pope sometimes confuses Christian charity with “secular humanism.”  Prof.  Mahoney devotes more space, it must be admitted, to critiquing the pope’s attacks on capitalism, technology and America. He is disturbed by the pope’s affinity for socialist and despotic regimes. Here our author reveals his “neoconservative” roots.

Regrettably, in the case of Roman Catholics, academics and especially Roman Catholic academics,  difficulties arise when dealing with those currently holding ecclesiastical, political, and economic power. The tone grows “nuanced,” the criticism is “balanced,” the prophetic voice is muted. Accordingly, Prof.  Mahoney speaks of the “admirable Christian witness” of Bergoglio. One allegedly must be “moved by the poetic theologizing about the created order that informs the first parts of Laudato Si.”  Francis is a “poet and theologian of charity.” Much of Amoris Laetitia is “beautiful,” “luminous,” “insightful and lyrical.”

Kolnai and Soloviev affirm that the humanitarian temptation is inherent in the modern world and, though perhaps adopting a Christian mask,  remains essentially  incompatible with Christianity. Yet in the case of the bishop of Rome, Prof Mahoney creates separate lists of  “good” and  “bad” statements and seeks to excuse the latter,  suggesting Pope Francis is “confused”;  that the remarkable resemblance of his thought to secular humanism is “unintentional.” Is this relatively inconclusive  assessment of Pope Francis, in a sense, a test case of Prof. Mahoney’s critique of “the religion of humanity” as applied to actual recent developments? If so, one is tempted to ask, as in the case of so many other products of conservative thought: what was all the fuss about ?

We can say much the same of Mahoney’s remarkably mild conclusions regarding  the thought of Jurgen Habermas. If Pope Francis is the chaplain of the Western humanistic establishment, Habermas is its court-philosopher. Prof. Mahoney critiques Habermas’s apolitical “emancipatory cosmopolitanism” – yet he alleges this to be counterbalanced by Habermas’s “fundamental decency,” lauds Habermas as a man “of peace and reason” and applauds his praise of Jewish thinkers.

I have reservations about Mahoney’s judgment in other respects as well. He speaks of the American “experiment” and its  “proposition” that “all men are created equal.” He writes warmly of Churchill, Adenauer and especially Charles de Gaulle – yet wasn’t the current reign of modernity in Western Europe established under them? Pope Benedict is a special favorite of Prof. Mahoney; yet didn’t the  “pope emeritus” in his address to the German Bundestag (much admired by Prof. Mahoney) studiously avoid any reference to Christ? And hasn’t Pope Benedict spoken of the beneficial effects of the Enlightenment on Western Christianity? Also muffling the impact of Prof. Mahoney’s book is his reliance on a repetitive, academic diction in which adjectives such as “rich,” “ample “and “capacious” constantly recur.

A year or more has passed since the publication of this book.  In that time, Pope Francis has carried the fusion between Christianity and the contemporary “humanitarian”  ethos to unheard-of lengths.

Starting in Abu Dhabi, Francis  has launched an ideological and educational initiative couched in entirely humanistic and syncretistic terminology. In the “Amazonian” synod (and in additional interviews with his old dialogue partner Scalfari) the Pope has moved still further away from previous understandings of Christianity ( or at least those prevailing officially in the Roman Catholic Church). This new “Amazonian” faith seems to reduce Christianity to a mere restatement of the ideological norms of the Western European establishment – with Latin American liberation theology thrown in. The tension Prof. Mahoney discerns between Pope Francis’s “humanitarianism“ and his Christianity seems to have been resolved entirely in favor of the former.

Sandro Magister has analyzed recent papal initiatives, also turning to Soloviev’s parable of the Antichrist. 1) Anything but an extremist, Magister is nevertheless compelled to acknowledge traces of the Antichrist in Bergoglio’s papacy. “The novelty of the initiative of Francis consists precisely in the fact that it is the first time a pope has claimed on his own and put himself at the helm of such a radically secularized global educational pact. because in reality a ‘new humanism’ without Christ is not an original, but a constant in the thought of the West of the last two centuries.” And Magister cites extensive passages of a chapter of a book  – also referenced by Prof. Mahoney – in which the late Cardinal Giacomo Biffi “took up the account  of the Antichrist written in 1900 by the Russian theologian and philosopher (Soloviev) and applied it to the Church of today.” And in his wonderfully “brief and blunt” article “The Amazon Synod is a Sign of the Times”  2) Douglas Farrow, referring to the recent synod,  states:

“The kairos, the culture of encounter, being lauded in the Pan-Amazon Synod is a Bergoglian kairos and culture. The church “called to be ever more synodal,” to be “made flesh” and “incarnated” in existing cultures, is a Bergoglian church. And this church, not to put too fine a point on it, is not the Catholic Church. It is a false church. It is a self-divinizing church. It is an antichristic church, a substitute for the Word-made-flesh to whom the Catholic Church actually belongs and to whom, as Cardinal Müller insists, it must always give witness if it means to be the Church.”

We can only emphatically agree that although we may not yet be at the point of encountering  the personal Antichrist,  today’s Church and society are most definitely “antichristic.”  Although I do not agree with some of his conclusions,  nevertheless Prof. Mahoney has done us a service by opening more people’s eyes to the gravity of this crisis.

1. “Everyone to the School of the Antichrist: but One Cardinal Rebels”http://magister.blogautore.espresso.repubblica.it/2019/09/19/everyone-to-the-school-of-the-antichrist-but-one-cardinal-rebels/
2. https://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2019/10/the-amazon-synod-is-a-sign-of-the-times

I recently had to confront this monumental decision: should I renew the “Catholic Herald – US edition”? For that magazine was launched just about a year ago. It’s now time to review how the US edition has fared since then.

The objective was alluring and ambitious:  to create a magazine providing intellectual leadership for American conservative Catholics.  In the US, it was a role last completely filled by Triumph magazine  – up to 1975, that is! The Herald’s new US edition could build on the success and visibility of the UK parent,  in which Damian Thompson had instilled new bite and focus.

I myself had doubts early on about this venture given the anti-Traditionalist animus of at least one prospective editor – who had even railed against the above- mentioned Triumph, shut down so many years before. But the US edition was launched with a splash – an oversubscribed gathering in New York plus, I heard, even an “afterparty.” It was a welcome display of panache and flair so rare in the Catholic conservative world. A wide variety of conservative greats were invited on board as potential writers.

Yet things almost immediately went south. One of the would-be contributors  – a certain Dawn Goldstein – immediately unleashed a vicious assault on the publication. Members of the Catholic Herald team fought back  – but then joined her in blasting the alleged “anti- Semitism” of one of their own recently published writers – Taki, one of the great supporters of conservatism. And within months both the US and UK editors were out the door. It seems the conservative  “big tent” was not so capacious after all. It is just one further proof of the inherent impossibility of the  “conservative Catholic” compromise – made starkly visible in the crisis created by the current Pope.

What survives is a decent publication offering a pleasant, non-challenging  version of “cultural conservativism” –  nice articles on culture, church history, spirituality and new books combined with summary coverage of current events.   Tough investigative journalism and a probing political, historical and theological analysis of the deviations of the papacy and local hierarchies are not, however, part of the scene. There is nothing like the recent articles in First Things on the “Amazonian” synod or the Papal Foundation. Or  Ed Condon’s recent journalism in the CNA on the Vatican’s financial scandals. True, hot topics are not necessarily avoided or swept under the rug – the Catholic Herald is not yet like the Catholic News Service or Catholic New York. Yet all too often even a candid, critical discussion of an issue ends in wishful thinking or credulity. 

So, for example, referring to the latest London real estate shenanigans of the Vatican:
“The controversy is likely to be a source of sadness for Pope Francis who was elected in 2013 with a mandate to reform Vatican finances. He pursued this goal energetically…” (October 25, 2019).
Or, on the Amazonian synod:
“Only a vast creative and relentless campaign of evangelization can hope to reverse this trend (of the de-catholicizing of the Amazon – SC). Will this be unleashed by the Amazon synod? Let’s pray that it
will…. .”  (November 1, 2019)

I find myself therefore still relying for news and analysis regarding all things Catholic on perusing daily six to eight websites – several of which are not in the English language. One of the best of these sources  is,  paradoxically, the ultra-progressive website of the German bishops. All in all, the US edition of the Catholic Herald is pleasant and informative reading  but has failed so far to rise to the challenge of leadership.  In an era of unprecedented crisis in the Church, that is a major failing.  Should I continue to subscribe? For $140, I  do not know…….

”

By Father Richard Cipolla

Pachamama.  Mamapacha.  One knows when things get to a point of desperation when one wishes that he were one of the populi Romani who ditched the fertility idols into the Tiber.  Their mistake is that they did not use weights to make sure they sunk into the muck of the Tiber.  Even the liberal press in the United States is embarrassed by the spectacle of the Pope and Cardinals and bishops staring at the fertility images in the Vatican Gardens as if this were something serious being contemplated.  This is one time when I am grateful to the New York Times for not highlighting the idiocy into which those who are running the Catholic Church have fallen.  

Apparently the Reverend Cardinals and Bishops sitting in the Vatican Gardens staring at the Pachamamas with the Bishop of Rome in a spirit of deep openness to the Indigenous Other have not read, at least recently, the Old Testament, which at least partly is a history of the Israelites and their serial denial of their God in Covenant by adopting the worship of wooden and stone idols of the peoples among which they lived.  The triumph of Elijah over the priests of the idols and false god Baal did not come to their collective minds as they sat there and contemplated the fertility goddess Pachamama.

A sense of irony is not strong among these prelates who as Catholics are blind to the blasphemy of putting these idols in a Catholic church dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, a stone’s throw from the tomb of Peter, Apostle and Martyr.  One wonders if these men think at all, think about anything, let alone the Faith that they have sworn to defend and uphold.  To be charitable, they must have been drugged to have sat in the Gardens engaged in a deep contemplation of Pachamama. If only one of them had started giggling at this foolishness.  Perhaps the rest would have joined in the laughter and the spell of the Pachamama would have been broken. Perhaps they went to dinner that evening on the Borgo Pio and laughed heartily over copious amounts of good wine. I hope so.

We could not have arrived at this point in the history of the Catholic Church unless the Great Lobotomy following the Second Vatican Council had not been performed by the surgeons in charge of the Great Forgetting of the People of God, for whom two millennia of Church History and Faith and Worship were blotted out and in its place was put the Beast of the 1960’s slouching to an evacuation of the Ultimate Seriousness and Real Joy of the Catholic faith.  Please forgive the Germanic use of capitalization in the last sentence, but how else to convey the disaster that has occurred?  There is only one time in the history of the Church that compares to what we are going through today:  the time when most of the bishops of the Church were Arian heretics.  But today where are the champions?  The great majority of the bishops are silent in the face of the Pachamama stupidity, whose purpose is to get rid of priestly celibacy and to ordain women as deacons, the first step to women priests.  I came to the Catholic Church from the Episcopal Church.  I came into the Catholic Church because I came to believe, through the Church Fathers and through my mentor, St. John Henry Newman, that there is only one Church that is continuous with the Church founded by Jesus Christ and that is the Roman Catholic Church.  My love for the Catholic Church has grown through the 37 years I have been Catholic and through the more than 35 years I have been a Catholic priest.  Pachamama can never make me doubt the reality and the truth of the Catholic Church founded by Jesus Christ.  But I shall never acquiesce in any attempt to make the Catholic Church a bigger version of the Episcopal Church.   I will continue to fight against those who in the end want a church whose clergy are not bound by the Catholic understanding of sexuality and marriage, whose liturgy is earthbound and  devoid of the Real Presence of Christ, and whose embrace of the world denies the heart of the Faith that is the Cross of Jesus Christ. 

I was in Rome just recently, and as always I talk to the taxi driver who takes me from Fiumicino to Rome.  Shortly after the present Pontiff was elected I asked the taxi driver what he thought about the new Pope. After a little silence, he said that the new Pope was “furbo”.  The translation of that word I will leave to those who read this.  This last trip I asked the same question of the taxi driver.  He prefaced his answer with the statement: “Sono credente”. “ I am a believer”.  This in contrast with many Italians for whom the Catholic Church is a club they belong to culturally but has no meaning in their lives.  And then he said about the Pope:  

“E molto sbagliato”.  Again, figure out the translation for yourself. 

We must pray for Pope Francis, sincerely and without reservation. We must pray for the Cardinals and Bishops who seem to have no male equipment to stand up to patent nonsense that spouts forth from Synods and press conferences.  Our heavenly intercessor at this time must be St. John Henry Newman.  His words at his Bigletto Speech upon receiving the Cardinal’s hat must be the basis of quod faciendum est.

In a long course of years I have made many mistakes. I have nothing of that high perfection which belongs to the writings of Saints, viz., that error cannot be found in them; but what I trust that I may claim all through what I have written, is this,—an honest intention, an absence of private ends, a temper of obedience, a willingness to be corrected, a dread of error, a desire to serve Holy Church, and, through Divine mercy, a fair {64} measure of success. And, I rejoice to say, to one great mischief I have from the first opposed myself. For thirty, forty, fifty years I have resisted to the best of my powers the spirit of liberalism in religion. Never did Holy Church need champions against it more sorely than now, when, alas! it is an error overspreading, as a snare, the whole earth; and on this great occasion, when it is natural for one who is in my place to look out upon the world, and upon Holy Church as in it, and upon her future, it will not, I hope, be considered out of place, if I renew the protest against it which I have made so often.

Liberalism in religion is the doctrine that there is no positive truth in religion, but that one creed is as good as another, and this is the teaching which is gaining substance and force daily. It is inconsistent with any recognition of any religion, as true. It teaches that all are to be tolerated, for all are matters of opinion. Revealed religion is not a truth, but a sentiment and a taste; not an objective fact, not miraculous; and it is the right of each individual to make it say just what strikes his fancy. {65} Devotion is not necessarily founded on faith. Men may go to Protestant Churches and to Catholic, may get good from both and belong to neither. They may fraternise together in spiritual thoughts and feelings, without having any views at all of doctrine in common, or seeing the need of them. Since, then, religion is so personal a peculiarity and so private a possession, we must of necessity ignore it in the intercourse of man with man. If a man puts on a new religion every morning, what is that to you? It is as impertinent to think about a man’s religion as about his sources of income or his management of his family. Religion is in no sense the bond of society.

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us.

After the conclusion of a recent conference in Seoul I had a fortunate if brief opportunity of making a pilgrimage to some of the sites of martyrdom of the Korean saints of the 19th century. The devotion to these saints plays a great role in Korean Catholicism – as does that of the 16th -17th century English martyrs in the Catholic Church in England. And these martyrs are not just known to the Catholic population. Official guides to the city of Seoul prominently feature several pilgrimages to the shrines of the martyrs and they are recognized as national historic sites.

The Catholic church of Korea has the perhaps unique distinction of being founded by laymen and women. They had heard of Christianity from literature coming from China and an active Catholic community was flourishing decades before any regular presence of Catholic priests in the country. Soon, however, fierce official resistance developed. From 1791 till the end of the 19th century, some 10,000 Catholics were martyred in Korea. 103 of these martyrs were canonized in 1984; a further 124 were beatified in 2014.

A lengthy subway ride from the central business areas brings us to the Jeoldusan martyrs shrine. Here some 29 martyrs were beheaded in 1866 (Jeoldusan mens “beheading hill”). As is often the case in Korea, the modern Catholic artwork is of indifferent quality and the church of the martyrs itself is uninspiring. Yet there is a remarkable museum with documents and relics of those days. And the shrine is set in a park conducive to meditation.

(Above) A second site of martyrdom is located not too far from the main railroad station. Subsequent to the time of the martyrdoms, Yakhyeon church, the oldest Catholic church building in Korea, was erected here in 1892. The architect was a French missionary.

Myeong-dong cathedral is located in a downtown shopping district and was the first parish church in Korea. The present building was consecrated in 1898. In 1900 the relics of martyrs killed in the persecutions of 1839 and 1866 were moved here. Like the previous two churches the cathedral is built on a hill.