Jack Gold, director

Brian Moore, writer

Recently, traditionalists have become aware of a 1973 TV movie Catholics. In the 1970s I read in National Review or Triumph a review of either the movie or the 1972 book upon which it is based.  But I only got a chance to see the movie a week ago. I cannot say that Catholics is convincing dramatically. And it’s certainly not a reasoned exploration of the conflict between the traditional mass and the new mass. Rather, the movie depicts  various tendencies and tensions within a deeply disturbed organization. It’s clear that Brian Moore, author of the book on which this movie is based and also the scriptwriter, is no great friend of the Catholic Church.

The attention of traditionalists has focused on the prophetic nature of the movie. For today do we not also have a papal persecution of traditionalist Catholics reaching down into the smallest parish?  Is not the Vatican issuing documents blatantly contradicting prior teaching, not just that of the ages, but of as recently as two or three years ago? We may not have had Vatican III and IV, mentioned in this film, but we did have John Paul I and II.

Yet we must remember that Catholics, just like George Orwell’s 1984, is primarily describing not a futuristic world but the age in which it appeared. In 1973 the Church had not formally declared that the consecration in the Mass was merely symbolic – but it had empowered a legion of religious who said just that with impunity. It had not openly proclaimed itself a revolutionary organization, but it tolerated, especially in South America, a broad movement which advocated exactly that. The Vatican of Paul VI was still actively seeking to root out the last vestiges of the old liturgical order – such as in England. And the film refers to the great decline in Catholic practice which had already occurred by that time. 

Thus, Catholics is powerful witness to the extreme fossilization of the Conciliar Church. As far as the Church establishment is concerned, very little has changed between the age of Paul VI and that of Francis. Indeed, how can there be any change given the Conciliar assumptions of openness to the modern world?  Change can only come from further developments in the civil society of the West with which the Church is seeking accommodation. For example, the Church of Catholics is committed to “political” revolution whereas the Church of today is toying with “social” and even “biological” revolution (feminism, LGBT ). Catholics does show the beginnings of this. The leadership of the Catholic Church here sports elegant and very unrevolutionary “business casual” attire more suited to European bars than than the encampments of insurgents.

Clad in such dress, a priest representative of this totally secular Vatican sets forth to squelch the last remnants of traditionalism on a remote island.  This  visitor cannot relate to the ordinary people he encounters and eventually must reach his destination via helicopter. This new modernist church is contrasted with a strange group of monks on the island. These monks don’t seem to pray very much. On the one occasion they do gather for an ad hoc prayer service they are brusquely sent to their quarters by their abbot. He reminds them that they are not in a contemplative but an active order and should concentrate on doing the manual tasks of the monastery. We learn, moreover, that the abbot lost his faith years ago (in a 1960’s-era “crisis of faith”) and is no resolute defender of tradition at all.  

At the end of the day (and of the film), it is the Church establishment that seems to triumph by invoking blind obedience.  Having surrendered to the new liturgy, the monks do finally gather for prayer with the abbot but the disturbing face one sees as the film’s final image in no way conveys the impression that a satisfactory spiritual resolution has been attained. The cult of obedience to authority is the only mortar still holding the edifice of the Church together. 1)

It is noteworthy that the dominant dialogue and interactions are entirely between the emissary of Rome and the abbot. The laity and the other monks of the monastery are disregarded and treated as fanatics and fools. Even though some monks pose valid questions regarding the new order these remain hanging in midair, unaddressed. Such as how in religion something can be true one day and the next day be false and even harmful (Ratzinger would later take up this point). I believe this depiction of the contemptuous treatment by the Church of the laity and of the lower ranks of clergy was valid then and now.

 Is the confrontation between the abbot and the “new priest” a subtle, perceptive commentary on the 1960s revolution in the Church?  Is it suggesting that the old regime had in fact been undermined by hidden unbelief, lack of prayer, concentration on the material aspects of the Church and the cult of obedience? So that when authority proclaimed a new order, resistance crumbled overnight? Perhaps! But one thing Catholics did not get right was the strength of the organized Tradionalist movement, only just getting underway at that time. For it would be led by someone – Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre  – who in fact did not set obedience to authority above Catholic tradition and truth.    

1. Amy Welborn provides a perceptive discussion of Brian Moore’s Catholics. (Obedience:) In the end it was the only card (quoting Brian Moore’s novel); The last refuge, even when none of the arguments make sense – even for the most self-proclaimed open-minded among us.(Amy Welborn) (Charlotte was Both, 9/25/2022 )

For another take on this film see Dr. Peter Kwasniewski’s review at Tradition and Sanity.

Directed by Alejandro Monteverde

Angel Studios (Distributor)

Released March 8, 2024

Mother Cabrini (as I will henceforth call her) was an icon of the years immediately preceding the Vatican Council. For in 1946 did she not become the First American Saint? Her images are found in many of the older churches in New York City, as you can see on this blog under The Churches of New York. Later, she fell into nearly total obscurity even though she – or at least most of her – is buried near the Cloisters in northern Manhattan. To rekindle devotion to a saint with so many local ties, the Society of St. Hugh of Cluny has sponsored masses and pilgrimages to this shrine culminating in festive liturgies. Our last mass was in 2014 – but several other Traditionalist groups have since returned. (You can find descriptions and many pictures of all these events by searching for Cabrini on this site.)

So, I felt obligated to view this film – with some trepidation. For Roman Catholic inspirational films generally have not been, in my experience, a successful genre.  My disquiet was increased by what I saw in the theater before the film even began. Posters advertised a coming exploitation film Immaculate – apparently about a Rupnik-like convent in Italy.  And one of the coming attractions dealt with the infamous Cabrini-Green project in Chicago! 

The good news about Cabrini is that I could sit through the entire lengthy film – it held my attention. It is a well photographed film that moves on briskly despite its substantial length. I cannot say, though, that Cabrini is a masterpiece of cinematic art. The film is anything but subtle – the director goes to work with a sledgehammer. The many dramatic crises in the movie are telegraphed to us a mile in advance. Throughout the film the director presents to us a series of confrontations between Mother Cabrini and the pope, Archbishop Corrigan of New York (on one occasion, in a loud exchange of views in an empty Catholic Church!), a Caruso-like Italian tenor, the mayor of New York and the entire Italian parliament. I found the style of these encounters particularly unconvincing – although I would defer to Cabrini experts as to their historicity.  At other places the director employs symbolism or dream sequences to vary the visual language of the film.  These images, however, were not fully integrated into the narrative and their significance not immediately clear.

The heavy handedness of the direction is reinforced by a grandiose, operatic score. For example, at several key points of the narrative what seems to be a direct quote from the prelude to Wagner’s Das Rheingold is played! Several of these dramatic climaxes reference an early near-death-by-drowning experience of Cabrini. In these sequences Cabrini is depicted almost as a Rhine maiden in Wagner’s opera! 

I didn’t think the production recreates a believable 19th century atmosphere – for me, a major disappointment. The sets have very little resemblance to anything one can still see in the older sections of New York City. (That’s understandable; the film was mostly shot in Buffalo). Some of these sets seemed downright strange. So, for example, in repetitive scenes in the New York archbishop’s immense office, numerous candles, placed on all kinds of different candlesticks, are burning regardless of the time of day. And in the background, through a window, we see a church that definitely is not St. Patrick’s cathedral.

But in a film like this the didactic purpose takes precedence over artistic flights of fancy. And the purpose is to show us a portrait of Mother Cabrini. She is depicted as a modern American feminist. Throughout the film, she must confront – sometimes forcefully and loudly – the white male hierarchy that ruled the Church and the City.  Again and again, she accuses them of blocking her proposals just because she is a woman. With several exceptions the male characters of the movie are depicted as brutal oppressors, violent thugs and bullies, bureaucratic functionaries and in the case of the Catholic clergy in New York, incompetents or ninnies. Exceptions are a helpful Irish doctor, a reporter for the New York Times (naturally!), and Pope Leo XIII, portrayed by an actor who does not resemble at all the historic personage but acts as a Francis-like universal manager.  Strangely, the only female character other than Cabrini who receives any development is a friendly prostitute (one of the “marginalized”!) who becomes a companion to Mother Cabrini’s band of sisters.

America is depicted as an almost nightmarish world of oppression, prejudice and exploitation. Someone even states ”This land is built on the blood of immigrants!” – or words to that effect. Honestly, one wonders why all these Italian immigrants were coming to such a country in the first place! Mother Cabrini acts as a secular social reformer, founding a succession of orphanages and then a new hospital, all in the teeth of opposition from Church and state. Cabrini speaks out against exploitation, racial and ethnic prejudice and battles for the economic rights of immigrants. She organizes political and media backing and assembles a multi-ethnic, multi-religious circle of financial supporters for her hospital.  

The film does not try to establish any connection between what Mother Cabrini is doing and the Catholic religion. Holy pictures – including those of the Sacred Heart – are seen in rooms and on the exterior of buildings in the Italian quarter, but they seem to be mainly decorative.  Apart from a funeral procession, no liturgical acts are shown. Nobody seems to pray either. At times, at dramatic moments of frustration, Mother Cabrini does seem to meditate, seated by herself (once in a chapel). 

In fact, this film completely distorts the role of the Catholic Church in Mother Cabrini’s mission. Cabrini was not unique as the leader of a female religious order operating in missionary territory. The film does not mention the role of the Scalabrinian order in directing her to the United States in the first place and then supporting her initiatives. The hostile reception from the clergy she receives upon landing in New York is exaggerated. Archbishop Corrigan was indeed at first cool but later he supported Mother Cabrini in her plans as well as other aspects of the Italian apostolate (like national parishes). Cabrini benefited from the support of several wealthy American women from an early stage of her New York apostolate.  Yes, there was friction with the hierarchy, some parish priests and the non-Italian Catholic laity. But from the beginning Mother Cabrini also could draw on the support of significant lay and clerical patrons and on the accomplishments of her predecessors. That included the Catholic Irish, much-maligned here, who by 1889 had created a functioning system of Catholic parishes, schools, orphanages and hospitals on Manhattan Island (and had developed into a dominant political force as well).

But of course, the Catholic Church also was an immensely positive spiritual force among the Italian immigrants themselves. The depiction in this film of the Italian community as a disorganized rabble is misleading. The immigrants created societies, parishes and guilds relating to the province, town or village from where they came. As time went on, they recreated in America the processions and festivals they had celebrated in Italy. The family structures so important among Italians also provided major support in the new country. 

And what of Mother Cabrini’s own spirituality? For a witness to that, we have the nasty remarks of Ida Frederike Görres – a professional hagiographer! – writing in 1959 when Cabrini’s celebrity was at its height. The saint’s piety, however, was not at all to the taste of representatives of the proto-Conciliar movement in Western Europe: 

“I have been ruminating on Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, surely a classical example of that special, perfectly genuine and lawful brand of Christian piety which can be completely unintelligent. On the face of it, that is, for obviously all these saints are, in fact, filled with the Holy Ghost; but with them the Spirit makes no use of their “mind” as intelligence, only of their practical sense…. In 67 years of holiness truly lived – most of which were spent in working among people, and in the professional guidance of souls!   – there is no record of a single “unforgettable sentence.” …. Mute all of it. Completely devoid of self-reflection…What can this mean? That charity – i.e., wisdom lived – can exist without the mind. 1)

I will not speculate on the truth of these condescending remarks. For Görres, Mother Cabrini was an exemplar of simple faith and piety, if regrettably not a so-called “spiritual genius.” But that is not what Mother Cabrini aspired to be!

This setting aside of what is specifically Catholic is a deliberate choice of the producers, who wanted to present Mother Cabrini as an “entrepreneur,” “an extraordinary woman who happened also to be a nun.” 2) Indeed, they may well consider such a “secular” depiction of the saint to be eminently Catholic. I am sure that Pope Francis, for example, would appreciate the exclusive focus of the film on social action and the defense of immigrant rights. I also suspect that the negative depiction of certain clerics in this film is based on the experiences of today, not of 1889. In summary, this film may not help us understand the life of a missionary sister in the United States of 1889, but it tells us a lot about the self-understanding of leading Catholic circles in 2024.

Now Cabrini ends with a newsreel of her canonization in 1946, preceded by a cartoon showing the spread of her order all over the world. But what has happened since then? In the last few decades apostolate after apostolate of her order, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart, has closed: the hospitals in New York City and Chicago, the high school next to her shrine in Manhattan, Cabrini University near Philadelphia in this very year.  Even the property on the Hudson River which, as depicted in this film, Mother Cabrini acquired in 1890 for her orphanage was sold last year to the Coptic Orthodox Church. 3) (The institution itself closed years earlier after a series of scandals and crimes.) Mother Cabrini’s order seems to have followed the same downward trajectory to “completion” as have other mainstream Catholic women’s’ religious communities. Assuming the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart have adopted an understanding of mission such as that ascribed to Mother Cabrini by this film, these consequences are unsurprising and inevitable. For people want to rally to a saint who still lives with us today, not a social reformer of the past, however well-intentioned and indomitable. 

1. Görres, Ida Frederike, Broken Lights at 364 (The Newman Press, Westminster, 1964 (German original 1960))
2. Basile, Paul, Cabrini Film a Miracle in the Making, (Fra Noi, 2/18/2024)
3. “A Catholic organization sells 522 acres in West Park to another faith-based group,” (HudsonValley1.com, 8/25/2023)

We have covered over the years the sorrowful story of the many conflicts and tragedies that have arisen, both in the New York area and beyond, as the Catholic Church seeks to “downsize” – and at the same time reap a dividend from the real estate and art of closed parishes.  Simply search this blog for the whole appalling story. Now a filmmaker – from outside the US – has attempted to put in organized form the whole matter in a documentary:

FORECLOSING ON FAITH

Given the background of the filmmaker and judging from the film stills, the loss of Hungarian ethnic parishes seems to a main focus. But the scope is much broader than that. From the film’s promotional materials:

Heroic battles, passionate protests and widespread resistance are being witnessed across the United States. But this isn’t politics, it’s a war raging within the Catholic Church to preserve countless spiritual homes. Churches are being shuttered at an alarming rate. At stake are issues of ethnic and cultural identity and the well-being of communities across the land.

The U.S. Catholic Church justifies the closings with claims of shrinking parishes, priest shortages and lack of vibrancy. Some of the faithful cry foul and say it’s all about raising money to balance the budget of the diocese or bankroll sins of the past.

This is impacting ethnic communities as well across America and their struggle is the focus of the documentary, “Foreclosing on Faith”. The film documents a heroic battle for preserving cultural identity against all odds. One manifestation of cultural identity can be traced to strong ties to churches. These aren’t just buildings with steeples and stained glass, for many, they’re second homes, places of refuge to preserve cultural and historical identity. Every time a church is closed, a small piece of the community fades away. Churches provide a social safety net and that net is unraveling.

I have not had a chance to view this documentary. But this well-received film seems to be the first serious attempt to analyze what is going on in the US as parish after parish is closed. We will see if we can arrange a screening in this area.

Kreuzweg (The Stations of the Cross)

Traditionalists have finally made it to the silver screen.  Kreuzweg is a new (2014) German epic exposing the horrors of the dark world of traditionalism in the form of a fictitious “Priestly Fraternity of St. Paul.” (In case you missed the point, the materials for press and school available on the film’s website explain they are talking about the FSSPX.) A fanatic, domineering mother, an insinuating manipulative priest, an innocent child martyred – it’s all HERE.

A Traditionalist Mother.

The film’s website has a rich assortment of clips (some with English subtitles)to be found under the rubric “Filmpresskit”, a pressbook and materials for use in the school.These last are a compilation by a Protestant but there is a logo appended of the Katholisches Filmwerk GmbH “a central distribution agency for audiovisual and didactic material of the Catholic Church.” (so the Filmwerk‘s website). In these materials for the school we learn that these are the hallmarks of Catholic traditionalism: fear, exclusiveness and “ritualism”(“Men have always battled fear with magic.”).

Just like in Italy, the war of Church and society against Catholic Tradition in Germany is indeed becoming a hot one.

For Greater Glory (aka Cristiada)
By Dean Wright

Since the modern Age of Revolutions began in 1789, Catholic peoples have risen up again and again in arms in defense of their religion and of “Christendom”: the public order that had developed over the ages out of the interaction of the Church with state and society. The Traditional pilgrimage to Chartres celebrates to this day the fighters of the Vendee and related movements in the 1790’s. Slightly later in the same decade there were uprisings against the revolutionaries both in North and South Italy. Even more successful – if only temporarily – was the uprising of Andreas Hofer and the Tyrolean peasants against Bavaria and France 1809-10. Defense of Catholicism was a key motivation of the Spanish guerillas in the Peninsular War against Napoleon 1808-13. We can see the 19th century Carlist Wars in Spain – now waged against Spanish liberalism – as a continuation of the legacy. Again in Spain, Catholics fought and eliminated the Marxist and Masonic regime in 1936-39. A more contemporary example of this kind of struggle was the Solidarity movement in Poland in 1980-81, even if nonviolent (on the part of the Polish workers, that is).

A review of these conflicts shows that the most successful – the Peninsular War, the Spanish Civil War and Solidarity – were able to move the struggle to a national level and forge working alliances with forces that were not necessarily “purely” Catholic such as the British Empire, the Falange or KOR. Regrettably most of the other movements remained restricted to a limited region and mainly to the peasant class. They also proved unable to coordinate with outside allies or even with each other. So despite all their heroism, these fighters eventually succumbed to the larger and better organized forces of their opponents. And by the time of the Spanish Civil War there were already Catholic voices – like Jacques Maritain or Bernanos – repudiating the Catholic fighters. A tendency that culminates in the teaching of John Paul II and Pope Benedict that warfare in defense of Faith is never justified – rejecting consistent tradition going back to 622 and the Emperor Heraclius at the latest.

For Greater Glory tells the story of one of these uprisings: the Cristero rebellion in Mexico in the 1920’s. It has remained unknown outside of Mexico except in certain Traditional circles although it occurred on the doorstep of the United States. The veil of ignorance has lifted somewhat in recent years with the canonization or beatification of numerous Cristero martyrs. And in 2007 Miss Mexico created an uproar at the Miss Universe pageant by wearing a skirt emblazoned with Cristero emblems and images. Now, For Greater Glory tells the Cristero saga through the medium of film

Miss Mexico!

It was to be expected that the subject matter of this film would attract the hostility of our media and reviewers. For the received depiction of the Mexican revolutions of the 20th century has always been one of admiration for sincere, if somewhat barbaric revolutionaries: Viva Villa! (1934); Viva Zapata! (1952) and Frida (2002). So it is that For Greater Glory has received predominantly negative reviews and a plainly ridiculous “R” rating to boot.

Let me say that, contrary to these pundits and aside from all ideological concerns, For Greater Glory is a satisfying cinematic experience. It is well acted and the photography is great. The sets have an appropriate Mexican, “lived in” feel. The fine costumes help to recreate the atmosphere of the 1920’s. The direction – by Dean Wright – reflects the lessons learned in films like The Lord of the Rings cycle, Braveheart and Gladiator. The frequent action scenes are exciting and hard hitting. The film is understandable and keeps moving to its conclusion – I never was bored or confused as to what was happening. The structure of the film generally follows the historical course of the Cristero rebellion and weaves in outside political developments as well.

Naturally not all is perfect. The director has a habit – undoubtedly derived from his experiences on the Lord of the Rings, to repeatedly set up dialogue scenes amid the action in which weighty statements are declaimed to the accompaniment of portentous music. Fortunately these scenes, if frequent, are short and the dialogue is, in comparison to other films, relatively under control. And the flow of the film, if always understandable, is a bit choppy. Things are insinuated – like a betrayal of the Cristeros by the US – and by the Catholic hierarchy of Mexico and the Vatican as well? – without achieving the cinematic impact they deserve. An effort to be objective also often leads to a loss of cinematic effect: the great adversary of the Catholics, President Calles comes across as a complex, almost sympathetic figure.

Reverting more to weaknesses on the ideological front, we also have in the film the attempt to convert the Cristeros’ fight for Catholic Mexico to a struggle for “religious liberty.” Fortunately, this reinterpretation is not consistently applied. And the scriptwriters have President Calles give the appropriate response: wasn’t I democratically elected by the majority? On the other hand, the film has the remarkable candor to show the nefarious influence of US economic interests on the situation.

All in all, I consider For Greater Glory a significant achievement in film. For the first time in film, as far as I am aware, a Catholic counterrevolutionary movement is seriously and honestly depicted. Not just in an ideological or hagiographic treatise, but in a cinematically satisfying way.

 A new film …with child actors. Here is the TRAILER.

Vision
By  Margerethe von Trotta

I can well understand why a Catholic might approach this film with trepidation. For St Hildegard in recent years has been transformed into a patron saint of feminism, New Age and holistic medicine. Certainly from the review in the New York Times one would anticipate a straightforward feminist political treatise with vague hints of lesbianism thrown in. But really the film is not bad at all. Although obviously made from a non-Christian perspective, Vision is actually far more understanding and respectful of the religious vocation than other films in high favor with some Catholics – including those in the Vatican. I need only name in this regard the two most recent, horrendous depictions of the life of St Therese.

Obviously, Vision includes much that is usual in a contemporary and specifically German film.  There is an enigmatic opening sequence, for example, where a terrified people is told by clergy to expect the immediate end of the world. The next day (nothing having happened)  children emerge into the beauty of the morning. It is similar to the emergence of Audrey Hepburn from the confines of the cloister into the light of the world at the conclusion of the Nun’s Story.

 St. Hildegard is presented as an oblate to a double monastery of men and women laboring under dark, “patriarchal” oppression. The male superior, devoted exclusively to monetary gain and social-climbing, is played as a dastardly villain who does everything short of twirling his black mustache. The nuns practice savage corporal chastisements presented in gruesome detail. The representatives of the church tend to be grim, fanatical , blustering types – in contrast to the wise, understanding Hildegard. The film is studded with other clichés: we hear of the “40,000 books” of the emir of Cordoba compared to the Christians’ 400.

But as the film progresses, the stereotypes seem to recede into the background while the character of Hildegard and her fellow nuns comes  to the fore. This film seems to make  a serious effort to depict St. Hildegard in terms of her own time and as  a religious woman.  She and her sisters are happy in their vocation. We get a sense of a life of calm, spirituality and beauty. St. Hildegard’s convent is made up  normal women with strong and sometimes sweet personalities finding fulfillment in their monastic vocation –not the neurotic, oppressed caricatures we would expect.  And St Hildegard’s discourse is primarily that of a Christian, not a New Age votary. Her main task is making known the message of the Lord – as received in her visions. And not all the clerics are negative types – St. Hildegard’s confessor and (briefly) St. Bernard of Clairvaux appear in a much brighter light.

In the film’s longest dramatic sequence, St. Hildegard has an “emotional crisis” when her favorite pupil is elected to become the abbess of another monastery. She is devastated by the loss of one who had vowed to remain with her community until her death. Although St, Hildegard’s difficulty in coping with this “particular friendship” reveals a perhaps unsaintly weakness, these scenes have the advantage of injecting a note of complexity into her character.  The clash also serves to shows a deeper, darker side of the younger sister, Ricardis, who had previously been played as a Maria von Trapp type.

The film does make an effort at historical authenticity. Errors are present but not overwhelming.  It is unlikely, for example, that Margrave Hartwig would travel and appear at social events clad in chain mail armor. Similarly, the archbishop of Mainz probably did not receive St. Hildegard at his chancery desk dressed in chasuble and miter and accompanied by a cleric in a dalmatic. Some things, however that appear strange are (or may be) authentic. I can imagine, for example, that there was more demonstrative embracing and kissing in those days even in Northern Europe. The rules of enclosure were certainly much more relaxed in the Middle Ages then they became in the 16^thcentury. And a scene where St. Hildegard and her nuns appear in elaborate white robes with their hair flowing down is authentic (although I doubt while doing so they were singing Hildegard’s Ordo Virtutum with the participation of a male cleric).

There are many other pluses. The film moves along at a brisk pace. Overall,  the acting is impressive.  The photography and  costumes are beautiful. The locations include several well known medieval churches and monasteries in Germany. The film quotes liberally from the works and music of St. Hildegard. And there are numerous depictions of Christian liturgies and sacraments as the film understands them. More Latin is spoken and sung in this film than even The Passion of the Christ.

To conclude, even with some significant reservations, I would recommend this film as an attempt, far more honest than most, to deal with Christian sanctity and the monastic life.

Vision is being shown at the Film Forum in Manhattan.

 

UPDATE:

There are a number of resources for those wishing to find out more information on St. Hildegard and the region in which she lived and worked.

This website provides information on the saint and on the locations associated with her life.

Her own monastery of  St. Rupertsberg and a sister foundation, Eibingen, were later destroyed. But the parish chuch of Eibingen preserves St. Hildegard’s own  relics as well as a collection of relics she acquired during her lifetime. SEE the parish website. (in German)

Her reliquary, created in 1929.

 

The parish church of Eibingen, finished in 1935. (Actually there are a number of churches erected in the 1930’s in Germany – and also a Russian Orthodox church in Berlin). 

Finally, there is the extraordinary website of the Abbey of St. Hildegard.   Thanks to the initiative of the local bishops and the generosity of Prince Karl zu Loewenstein-Wertheim-Rosenberg,  the Abbey of Eibingen arose again between 1900 and 1904. The new foundation was a member of the Beuron congregation of Benedictines – the creators of a new sacred art in the second half of the 19th century. The abbey flourished and grew to include more than 100 nuns – despite setbacks such as the expulsion of the community in 1941 during the Third Reich and a period of use as a military hospital and a home for refugees.

The interior of the Abbey of St. Hildegard contains one of the most complete programs of Beuron mural painting in existence. Regrettably, much of this magnificent art was destroyed or painted over in 1967 in yet another example of a  post-conciliar “restoration.”  The Abbey’s splendid website thus has to resort to “virtual”  images for much of its tour of the buildings and the images that adorn (or adorned ) them.

(The last three photos are from the website of the parish church of Eibingen.)

Stuart Chessman