The harbor of Victoria, British Columbia, is a scene of crowded, noisy tourism in the summer. But if the visitor walks but a few blocks from the waterfront, he finds an iron gate with the inscription “St. Ann’s Academy.” It leads into a secluded, dilapidated park. On either side stand imposing institutional buildings connected by a tree lined road. From the crosses that surmount these structures the visitor might think he has stumbled into some Catholic institution – perhaps a school or college? At one time, he would have been right. But now this is all a façade, a Potemkin village maintained by the state. For this is the ”St. Ann’s Academy Interpretive Centre and Chapel” – a veritable museum of (pre-Conciliar) Roman Catholicism.
I have noticed recently that, here and there, the secular world has started to reexamine the Catholic world as it existed prior to the Council without the aggressive emotionalism that hitherto prevailed. This new objective approach was typified by the exhibit “Catholics” two years ago at the Museum of the City of New York. It treats the Catholic religion as something dead and extinct – no longer a threat or rival to the establishment. Given that assumption, the Church can be examined dispassionately and without ideological confrontation – much as one would study 7th century Mayan cities or ancient Egyptian temple complexes. Moreover, this renewed interest in the immediate Catholic past is not at all limited to art appreciation or buildings. It seeks rather to describe the history, experience and accomplishments of a sociological group called “Catholics”: a story that is seen as a part of that of the larger, secular community. This new kind of “Catholic Studies” unites several disciplines: history, sociology, anthropology, art history, and comparative religion.
At this time it is precisely secular scholars who are uniquely qualified to carry out this work. That the institutional Catholic Church could take up this task is out of the question. The official Catholic universities and religious orders are totally dominated by the Conciliar war against the alleged evil past. With some laudable exceptions, the hierarchy, diocesan press and the “conservative Catholic” milieu are too preoccupied by the need to justify the current ecclesiastical party line to objectively evaluate the past and its achievements. Indeed, the institutional Church rejects attempts to recognize any artistic or historical value in its institutions, art or structures: that would restrict the arbitrary control of bishops and religious orders over these “assets.”
St. Ann’s Academy tells a remarkable story; how one Catholic priest and and a handful of sisters of St. Ann arrived in 1858 from Quebec to establish the Church when Victoria was no more than a frontier trading fort. How the order grew and flourished, establishing a school, a novitiate and an important hospital in the city and later other schools all over the Canadian West and Alaska. The exhibits show the many years of successful educational work in the schools, the life of the novitiate and the activity of a hospital that was the main provider of maternity care for Victoria. The narrative is respectful; there is none of the usual tales of “slave labor” of the religious or brutalization of the students by tyrannical nuns.
At times the scientific approach set forth in the official explanations does appear a bit forced. So, in an exercise of anthropological field work, the resident scholars examined the role of St. Joseph in the former St. Ann’s community. Based on written records and artifacts the scholars conclude that the sisters had a great devotion to this saint. Fortunately such silliness is limited. The exhibits as a whole show a rare appreciation and reverence – even if naive – for the structures and heirlooms that link us to our religious past.
After the Council, the life at St. Ann’s Academy rapidly came to an end. The novitiate closed first in 1968. According to the Guide to St. Ann’s: “At a time of considerable change within the church and in society in general, fewer women chose to enter religious orders while many professed sisters returned to secular life.” The school was closed in the 1970’s and the hospital followed in 1981. The buildings, abandoned to the government, fell into ruins or were torn down. Finally, citizen initiatives brought about the creation of St. Ann’s Academy as a historical site. The process of restoration is not complete – parts of the park in particular require further work.
And what of the order of St. Ann? The sisters retired to a another convent in Victoria. In a style characteristic of post-Conciliar Catholicism, their habitation no longer serves as a prominent, public witness to Catholicism near the center of the city but stands aside as a kind of private club.
This is the main building housing the convent, the novitiate and the school. It includes some remarkable features such as separate parlours for the sisters and for the students as well as a separate dining room for visiting priests that contains a doorway leading to an enclosed confessional. Aside from the exhibit areas, most of the structure is now occupied by government offices.
A diorama features a life size scene of a sister and her pupil around 1920. The sister depicted, sister Othile, was a talented artist and architect in her own right.
In the rear of the convent we make an extraordinary find: the original Catholic church and cathedral building of Victoria, in the charming style of Quebec rustic churches. It was attached by the thrifty sisters to their new convent buildings in the 1880’s instead of building a new chapel.
Some elements are new; the altar and altar rail, for example, were destroyed after the Council and have been recreated – altar cards and all. As the guide to the exhibit puts it:” “During the 1960s the Catholic church was swept by a wave of change associated with Vatican II and many of the chapel’s features were modernized. The decorations were simplified, the main altar and altar rail were removed and the whole space was painted a somber gray.”
The chapel was carefully restored to its original appearance. In some cases statues that had been saved after the post-conciliar gutting were returned for the restoration.
The chapel is now interfaith and a favorite location for weddings. Does the altar, as an exhibit, remain unchanged regardless of the service? If so, we would have the unique situation of an “Extraordinary Form” Catholic altar being used for non-Catholic or even non-Christian rites…
The surviving hospital building, now state-sponsored low-income housing.
There is, however, one critical problem with the “Museum of Roman Catholicism”: the object of its attentions, which was thought to be dead, is still very much alive. In the revived communities and parishes following the “extraordinary form,” the ancient liturgy, Tradition and culture have renewed vigor – including the altar cards!. And “Traditionalism” attracts more and more young people and families. Summorum Pontificum of course accelerated this process immeasurably.
These developments and other signs of Catholic vitality have not escaped the attention of “civil society” which understands all too well the long-term threat that a renewed Catholicism poses to its domination of the West. The initial response has been an increasingly savage anti-clerical media campaign. I fear that these renewed hostilities will eventually render impossible the continuation of the benevolent neutrality of the St. Ann’s center. But perhaps by that time a new generation of Traditional Catholic scholars will have arisen to take up the task of understanding their own heritage.
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