A War on Reality (4)

I concluded my previous post in this series by writing that is why I have called this series of posts A War on Reality, for it is the Devil's war. And I will write more on that aspect in the next post in this series. 

To start with, I want to think about Reality. And the ultimate Reality is the Blessed Trinity. All else is contingent. So when I write of a War on Reality, I am really referring to the Devil's continuing war on God; a war which, since he was defeated in Heaven by Michael and the heavenly hosts, he now conducts on Earth, through us.

Nonetheless, his fiercest hatred is for God, and the reality that is God, and the reality that God has created.

Consider the Blessed Trinity in a bit more detail, and in particular the qualities appropriated to each Person. 

If we think of the Father, the most essential characteristic is that He is, and arising from that, that He is omnipotent. So He revealed Himself to Moses: I Am who I am; and so the prayer taught us by the Son starts: Our Father, who art... It was Frank Sheed (if memory serves) who observed that 'nothing is impossible to God' also means that it is impossible for God not to be. Turning to the Son, we think first of the Logos the Word of God, by which all was created. This Logos is the wisdom or knowledge of God: the ultimate truth. The Holy Spirit, we know, proceeds from the Father and the Son by way of love.

It is, of course, no coincidence that the Penny Catechism teaches us that God made us to know, love and serve Him in this world and to be happy with Him forever in the next.  To know, to love, and to be: those three again (with the addition of serving, as befits our status as creatures and ultimately sons).

The reason, therefore, that I call the current crisis surrounding human sexuality and identity a war on reality, is that it directly attacks existence, truth and love; and I see that as no coincidence either.  The assault on truth is perhaps the most obvious. By this, I mean not just the obvious lies of the progressive movement, but the requirement that we too must lie. We must use a language that bows to their ideology, whether that is preferred pronouns, or LGBTQ2S+... Failure to do so incurs severe social, and in some cases (and increasingly) legal sanctions. Questioning the dogma in any way risks being punished as a hate crime.

But it is also an attack on love; and that on many levels. In the first instance, it distorts our understanding of the nature and purpose of human sexual love. We know what the Church teaches about this; how the Jewish people were formed over centuries towards an understanding of this that was brought to fulfilment by Our Lord Himself and the institution of matrimony as a sacrament. And we can witness, both in history and in our own time, the good that flows when human sexual love is lived as Christ taught, and the terrible damage, to individuals, families and societies, that ensues when His teaching is ignored.  It further distorts our understanding of other human loves: that idea that we may (and indeed should) love others in ways that excludes a sexual component. And it distorts our understanding of how we should respond in love to those in difficulty - not least those suffering from poorly developed human psychosexual formation. Instead of offering them hope, support, and true compassion, we consign them to the alphabet soup and pretend that we think their deviance is not only acceptable but a type of normality (and that is another attack on truth, as well). And we do that in the belief that it is kind; rather than engage with the truth and work out what, in true charity, we might better do.

And finally, ultimately, it is an attack on being. In its transgender manifestation, the victims of this ideology come to hate who they really are, and masquerade as something that they are not. They may even mutilate their bodies in pursuit of a new way of being - that is, of course, wholly illusory and offers no hope of lasting happiness or well-being. But even more terribly, this perverted ideology that treats human sexuality as a game in which we can make up our own rules, results in the death of millions by abortion; and the spiritual death of millions more, by their complicity with abortion or all the other perversions that arise.

And as Catholics, where are we? We, above all others, should have the clarity of vision, and the courage of heart, to take a stand for Reality, for the Blessed Trinity, and for all those who suffer under this diabolic ideology.  Yet it is hard to see how to do so.

However, if, as I strongly believe, this is first and foremost a spiritual battle, waged by the Devil, then our first steps become much clearer.  As Our Lord says: Some devils can only be cast out through prayer and fasting.  So let us start there, in particular with the intercession of St Michael, who has already cast the Devil out of Heaven, and our Blessed Mother, who crushes the serpent's head. And let us pray that, beyond prayer and fasting, we may discern what other actions we should be taking, and have the courage to take them.

A War on Reality (3)

In the first two posts of this series, I suggested that our society's view of human sexuality, as reflected in the trans and homosexual worldviews, is profoundly counter-factual. Further, people accept (or at least acquiesce to) the trans illogicalities because they have previously accepted the homosexual assumptions and claims. 

Looking at our culture as a whole, there are many reasons that has happened: the influence of the universities and their sex research departments (largely filled with abnormal people - that is, people who are not normal in their sexual appetites and behaviours); the complicity of many heterosexual people because they want to feel better about their own sexual sins; the onslaught of pornography enabled by the internet; the malign strategies of the Frankfurt School and the Yogyakarta gathering, and so on.

But I am particularly interested in the Catholic collapse. We are called to be the salt and the light, a sign of contradiction: and yet we host LGBTQ+ Masses, teach our children that gay is good and 'made in the image of God,' and are called to 'enlarge our tent' to include... well everyone, regardless of their adherence to the Gospel.

How did this come about?

Again, it is a complex picture. We seem to have lost our understanding of our Faith, our conviction that we should share it with the world, and our confidence to do so.

These are all interlinked, but I think it is our understanding that is most fundamental. And in particular our understanding of sin.

I am told that in the bad old days (certainly before my memories begin in the 60s) priests used to preach sermons about hell fire and sin all the time, and give an unbalanced and fearful account of the Faith to the people. That, if it were indeed the case, is clearly wrong. But the reaction has been an over-reaction: we never hear about sin or hell now. Generations of children have been raised with no understanding of this: yet it was clearly very much alive to Our Lord's mind.

And its lack leads to serious theological problems.

In particular, I am thinking here about the doctrine of Original Sin, and the seriousness of personal sin.

To take Original Sin first. I ask you consider when you last heard a sermon that even referenced Original Sin. Yes, it can be a bit tricky to understand and to explain, but it is fundamental to our understanding of our situation, and the redemption that Christ achieved for us. Without it, the whole Catholic metaphysic falls apart. See Romans 5, and the Catechism §385 ff.

In particular, it is a failure to understand Original Sin and its very real consequences, that leads people to believe rubbish such as that 'gay people are born that way in the image of God.' I say rubbish, because it is. By that logic, we would not treat children born with life-threatening conditions, because they 'are born that way in the image of God.' Further, the evidence suggests that 'born that way' is not true either. 

But we shy away from the idea of Original Sin, as it is countercultural and uncomfortable.  And for the same reasons, we minimise the gravity of personal sin. Rather than recognise that a mortal sin is literally that, death to our soul, worthy of eternal punishment, we prefer to think of it as a minor failing, and that the worst thing we could possibly do is feel guilty about it. 

There are several causes of that, I think. One is liturgical: the shift from the transcendence of the traditional liturgy to the immanence of the new; Our Lord is our friend now, and friends overlook each others' failings...   Again, the logic is poor: Our Lord is indeed our friend, but he is also Our Lord! (and notice the preference for using the Holy Name rather than a title, such as Our Lord) And further, He is too good a friend to overlook our failings, for that is not true friendship.

I am not arguing against immanence, of course: the Word became flesh, and dwelt amongst us. Ours is an incarnational Faith. But as ever, heresy is found in stressing one part of the truth to the detriment of another; and that is the risk of 'We are the Easter people.'  We are indeed; but only if we are also the Good Friday people: we are explicitly commanded to take up our cross if we would follow Him. And in the imitation of Christ, we are bound to treat sin, death and judgement as seriously as He does.

Again, I ask you to reflect: when did you hear of the Four Last Things from the pulpit (or ambo as I suppose I am meant to say nowadays...); or the vital (quite literally) importance of the Sacrament of Confession? How dare we traipse up to Holy Communion, week after week, without first confessing our sins and gaining sacramental absolution? Yet that is the pattern for the vast majority of practicing Catholics. That is why I think the balance has tipped too far towards immanence.

And then there's the Devil.

How often do you hear him referred to?  And yet Our Lord was very clear about him, and was clearly engaged in a battle with him. If he does not figure in our understanding of reality, then we are deluded.  Our Lord refers to him as the Prince of this World (eg in John 14:30). One of the results of Adam's sin is to give him real power - a power that accounts for much of the evil in the world; which, along with concupiscence, helps us to understand how we may have disorders in our inclinations that are not wholly our fault.

But we don't like to think about, and still less talk about, the Devil.

Yet that is why I have called this series of posts A War on Reality, for it is the Devil's war. And I will write more on that aspect in the next post in this series. 

A War on Reality (2)

In the first post in this series, I raised the question of how we got to a situation when intelligent people of good will could subscribe to the mantra Trans women are women, particularly when 'transwomen' includes a very diverse range of people, from those deserving our sympathy, to those deserving to be locked up.

One of the ironies of this situation is that many of those who are pushing back against this are people who identify as feminists, and particularly as lesbian or gay. For, amongst other things, the trans activists' manifesto undermines what it means to be a woman, what it means to be same-sex attracted, and so on.

I say this is an irony, because it seems to me that the trans activists have followed precisely the same path as the Pride movement before them.

The Pride movement has been remarkably successful in changing social attitudes to same-sex attraction, and it has done so by promoting untruths (not least with skilful sloganeering), by institutional capture, by using salami slice tactics, and by exploiting public sympathy for atypical (but appealing) examples.

Few people now will dare to dispute the idea that some people are 'born gay.' But there is no evidence to support this claim: there is no gay gene. There may be a slight genetic disposition in some individuals, but how genes are expressed is very much a result of environment. As far as patterns of sexual attraction are concerned, nurture (in the broadest sense) is a much larger factor than nature.

Few people now will dare to acknowledge that same-sex attraction is a disorder. Yet it was in the DSM (the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) until relatively recently, and was removed, not because of any advances in scientific or medical knowledge, but as a result of a political campaign. It is certainly clear that active male homosexuals have worse physical and psychological health outcomes on a number of measures: this is not healthy behaviour. Yet to raise such issues is to be met with howls of 'homophobia' just as surely as questioning the appropriateness of a (trans-identifying) man winning a female sports competition will be greeted by cries of 'transphobia.'

Further, there is a massive conflation of meanings hidden under the word 'gay.' Activists love this ambiguity. Thus they claim that it was a crime to 'be gay' until recently, which is simply not true. Certain actions were criminal, but not same sex attraction itself. But the elision is deliberate, both because it serves the purpose of creating a victim-myth, and also it implicitly denies the possibility of being same-sex attracted and also chaste. 

As a result of this, few people will dare to point out that adopting a gay identity and lifestyle is in fact a choice. There are other possible responses to same sex attraction.

But does any of this matter? you may wonder.  Isn't it kinder not to raise these issues? After all, what business is it of ours what people do in their bedrooms?

Well yes, it does matter. For a start, any research into helping, or worse still attempts to help, people to free themselves from unwanted same sex attraction is entirely beyond the pale. The rhetoric around 'conversion therapy' is every bit as vehement as that around 'trans rights.' It may well be true that some people have been hurt by attempts at helping them in this way. But that is true of all therapies as they develop. We do not abandon the search for cancer therapies merely because initial trials show that some approaches risk doing more harm than good: we seek to learn from the trials and improve the therapies.  No, the reason for the hostility to such a therapeutic approach is two-fold: one is that it acknowledges that (at least) unwanted same sex attraction is a disorder that may be capable of being cured; and the second is a fear that an effective therapy may indeed be found. But in the current climate that is almost unthinkable.

Further, children are taught that they 'have a sexuality' and must be 'true to themselves;' with the real - and often realised - risk that a passing phase, such as having a crush on someone of the same sex, means that they believe that they are homosexual. And such a belief risks becoming self-fulfilling.  It is no coincidence that so many homosexuals report early sexual liaisons with people of the same sex; and it is no coincidence, either, that those promoting homosexuality so often campaign to reduce the age of consent; and that a staple of homo-erotic literature (until they cleaned up their act in the pursuit of their political agenda - see Kirk & Madsen After the Ball for details) was the seduction of boys by homosexual men.

Moreover, the kind approach to this issue laid the foundations for the kind approach to the trans issue: with the result that thousands of young women have now had unnecessary double mastectomies, for example. How kind is that?

As to what business is it of ours?... it is clear that private behaviour affects public behaviour, and that those who want rights in private today, want to be proselytising for them tomorrow.  It is also clear that caritas and veritas are never truly opposed. 

It results in lies being embedded in the law and society, such as the lie of equal marriage; when it is clear there is no real equivalence between a homosexual pairing, and the marriage of a man and a woman that will give rise to a family. These two things are different in kind, and to pretend that they are not is dishonest, and undermines our ability to understand what marriage truly is.

And all of this proceeds by way of salami slicing.  I remember the outrage at Section 28 in the 1980s.  It was alleged to be homophobic, as it implied that people might want to promote homosexuality in schools, which was, we were told, a complete lie.  Fast forward 30 years, and we see books promoting homosexuality in our schools.  And so on.

For the curious, who wish to know more about this, see The Global Sexual Revolution, by Gabriele Kuby, and Making Gay OK, by Robert Reilly, as starting points.

But I don't want to stop my analysis there: my agenda is not to blame same-sex attracted people. Rather, I think we need to look in the mirror, and that will be the subject of my next post in this series.

A War on Reality (1)

I can't remember when I first heard that some people were aiming to 'smash heteronormativity.'  Good luck with that one, I thought.  Because heterosexuality is normal. Simply on a statistical basis, there is no arguing with that reality.

How wrong I was! It turns out that something being obviously, demonstrably, objectively true is no defence against the onslaught of ideology. Orwell is increasingly cited these days, and with good reason.

We now live in a society where serious and intelligent people expect us to believe the mantra Transwomen are women. By transwomen, they mean men, of course; the only absolutely necessary criterion for being a trans woman is to have been born male. This is absolutely on a par with Orwell's War is peace etc.

How did we get here?  I think it is a complex story, going back to the gay pride movement, the 'sexual liberation' of the 60s, the Catholic reaction to Humanae Vitae in 1968; and beyond that, to the Lambeth Conference of 1930; and beyond that, to that incident of the fruit in the Garden of Eden.  I will explore some of these links and causalities in future posts.

But first, I wish to explore the current confusion.  For the situation is confusing, and that is, I believe, deliberate. 

The label trans is being used, quite deliberately, to conflate a number of different groups of people; in order that our sympathy for one group may provide a cover for many others.

The first group is those people who suffer from severe dysphoria. John, later Jan, Morris was a classic example of this.  It is by no means clear that the change from John to Jan provided much relief for the dysphoria, either in this case or in other similar ones. But one can only sympathise with people so profoundly disoriented from the reality of who they are.

The trouble (for hard cases make bad law...) is that the accommodations extended to them are also used by others in a number of ways.

Transvestites, that is, men who get sexually aroused by dressing as women, are now counted as trans; some seem to delight in taking photos of themselves in women's facilities, sometimes performing obscene acts, and sharing them on social media. Some drag artists also seem to fit this category; and disturbingly are given access to young children, whose natural boundaries of normality and decency are eroded, placing them at risk of grooming. 

Some narcissists also find that claiming a trans identity gives them power over women - forcing them to [pretend to] recognise them as women - even whilst they remain bearded men.

Some malign men, who for reasons that may include exploitation or voyeurism, adopt the trans identity in order to gain access to vulnerable women in places that are meant to be safe, such as women's refuges.

Some men prosecuted for offences against women suddenly identify as women so that they can be placed in the women's estate in the prison system.  Some are even brazen enough to identify as men again on release.

Some young men who are only moderately good at sport suddenly discover their true identity as women, and (would could predict this?) subsequently win prizes and medals at the expense of female athletes; whilst also degrading them by forcing them to pretend that they see this as fair, and also sharing their changing facilities etc.

Some influencers, (and behind them some doctors and pharmacists who stand to make substantial profits) have created a whole social trend amongst vulnerable children; particularly, it seems, girls with other problems, such as autism. Persuaded that their anxieties as they approach adolescence will be alleviated by becoming boys, they bind their breasts, risking lasting damage, and take puberty blocking drugs, again risking lasting damage. They are 'love-bombed' and taught to mistrust their parents or anyone else who suggests that this might not be the magic panacea. And the evidence is that once on puberty blockers, most go on to irreversible surgery, resulting in sterility and a lifelong dependency on drugs; whereas those who are the subject of watchful waiting, largely recover from their dysphoria (real or imagined) as they grow up.

And then there are younger children, whose parents 'recognise' that they are trans. Whether this is Munchausen's by proxy, or driven by some other pathology, it has been well said that if your cat is vegetarian, we know who is making the choices...

And my point is that we are expected to categorise all of these as 'trans', and to affirm that Trans women are women - and that many seemingly intelligent and well-intentioned people go along with this. And anyone who questions this extraordinary and counter-factual ideology, (and particularly any woman who does so, which is telling...) risks the wrath of the mob, being denounced to their employers and the police, and having their livelihoods threatened. 

For the social justice warriors who campaign for inclusion, tolerance, freedom from shame,  and diversity are extremely intolerant of anyone who diverges from their self-righteous ideology, and will seek to shame and exclude them until they comply. 

But my question is, how did we get here?  And to that I shall turn in future posts.

Not again...

So we learn that yet another senior prelate is guilty of serious sin, and of concealing it for many years.

What are we to make of it?

Whilst righteous anger is not inappropriate, it is risky...  the righteous bit, I mean.

I think a good place to start our consideration is to look into our own hearts. Have I never wilfully turned away from Christ, and broken my relationship with Him and the Father? Have I never tried to hide my sins?  Have I never sought to justify them to myself?

So casting the first stone is not, perhaps my job (though I should add, with that trivial turn of mind for which I am justly renowned, that I do rather like the story of the woman take in adultery which ends with Our Lord saying: Mother... Not you...!)

But my more serious point is Solzhenitsyn's: The line separating good and evil passes... right through every human heart. It is a bit too seductive to think in terms of us and them: Thank you, Lord, that I am not like that bishop... 

And the reason that I think that is important to consider is because it gives me a clue about what I should actually do when I read about such grave scandals.  I should strive harder for my own sanctity: pray more, do more penance, more acts of charity, and above all, cast myself at the foot of the Cross and ask the Crucified to have mercy on me, and on all sinners.

Likewise, I could consider what the Devil would most like me to do, and avoid that...

A few final (for now) thoughts...

I continue to reflect on the Preparatory Document for the Synod.

I don't want to assume the worst about the Holy Father, tempting though that is. I am also well aware that my personal disposition and formation make me veer more to the 'individual judgement' than to the 'communion of saints' aspect of Catholicism. And that is a tendency I need to address.

But all that said, I do find that the Scriptural commentary that we are offered is rather one-sided.

It is true, for example, that Our Lord preached to the crowd without discrimination; but it also true that the crowd, which at one moment was crying Hosanna went on to cry Let him be crucified.

We read: The proclamation of the Gospel is not addressed only to an enlightened or chosen few. Jesus’ interlocutor is the “people” of ordinary life, the “everyone” of the human condition, whom he puts directly in contact with God’s gift and the call to salvation. 

And again, that is true; but it is only half of a truth. As well as this 'inclusive' approach, Our Lord has an 'exclusive' approach (to use the terrible jargon of those who think like this...). He only reveals the meaning of many parables (eg the Sower) to the Apostles. And even amongst the Apostles he frequently selects just three for some of the most important moments: the Transfiguration, the raising of Jairus' daughter from the dead, the Agony in the Garden, and so on.

But in what I suspect to be the key message here, we read:

This is a true and proper conversion, the painful and immensely fruitful passage of leaving one’s own cultural and religious categories: Peter accepts to eat with pagans the food he had always considered forbidden, recognizing it as an instrument of life and communion with God and with others. It is in the encounter with people, welcoming them, journeying with them, and entering their homes, that he realizes the meaning of his vision: no human being is unworthy in the eyes of God, and the difference established by election does not imply exclusive preference but service and witnessing of a universal breadth.

This, I think, is providing the rationale for the Church turning its back on its previous teaching and practice:  leaving one’s own cultural and religious categories. And appointing a pro-abortion atheist to the Pontifical Academy for Life, for  no human being is unworthy in the eyes of God.   But again, I think it is only half of the truth. 

It is certainly true that Our Lord overturned many of the religious customs and observances of the Jewish people, including the dietary laws. But it is equally true that in terms of the Law, the Decalogue, he reinforced it. When addressing issues of morality, if he changed anything, it was to be more strict, not less restrictive.  Moses because of the hardness of your hearts suffered you to put away your wives: but from the beginning it was not so. And I say unto you, Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery: and whoso marrieth her which is put away doth commit adultery; and likewise: But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.

I suggest, therefore, that there is a difference between clinging rigidly to dietary laws and clinging rigidly to the moral law. And indeed, I think that is the Church's traditional understanding, too.

And I say all this as I am trying to understand where the Holy Father is coming from, and why I find it so antithetical to what I have been taught to cling to...

So my hypothesis is that the Holy Father and I have been raised in very different Catholic environments. He has been formed in a time and place where the ideas of CELAM, culminating in Liberation Theology, were prevalent. This emphasised the social aspect of oppression, the 'preferential option for the poor,' and so on. The risk is that social justice rather than the salvation of souls becomes the focus; that the horizontal dimension of the Faith - our love and care for our brothers - becomes more important than the vertical aspects: our adoration of the Triune God; and that relationship becomes more important than fidelity to abstract truths.

I was raised in a different environment, with a focus on the Four Last Things; that separation of the sheep from the goats, which Our Lord warns us of; and the injunction to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. The risk is that one focuses on one's personal salvation without attending to our brothers; that the vertical dimension of the Faith - the adoration of God - becomes separated from the second Great Commandment: to love our neighbours as ourself; and that fidelity to the truths received becomes more important than our relationships with others.

In that analysis it is easier to see, perhaps, why there is such a great disjunct between the Catholicism I practice and the approach taken by the Holy Father.

Needless to say, both extremes are flawed; what concerns me is that while I strive, albeit ineffectively at times, to re-balance my errors, it seems to me that the Holy Father is firmly committed to his side of the equation. That may be why (I am guessing), in ways that are almost unthinkable to me, he is happy to set aside both moral precepts, and the most sublime forms of adoration that we have inherited, in pursuit of his social agenda. 

Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner.  And I am not saying that I do understand him fully, but striving to imagine how he can do what he does without being a bad man is good for me.  

It is our duty to love the Holy Father, and that is hard to do if we regard him as evil. But if we merely regard him as wrong (which I certainly do), but mistaken rather than malign, that is easier.

In all events, to the extent that we regard him as an enemy, we are under orders to pray for him. 

So whatever our analysis of the current trials to which the Church is subject, let us not cease to offer up prayers for him; and for the whole Church.

What's the purpose of the Synod?

My late father, an interesting chap in many ways (a pacifist and conscientious objector in WW2 who recanted when he realised quite how evil Hitler was, a vehement atheist who converted to orthodox Catholicism...) used to say: there are two reasons for everything: the Good Reason and the Real Reason.  It was, of course, meant to be a witty and deliberately cynical bon mot, but I think (like all the best wit) that there is some truth in it.

Which brings me back to my theme: the Synodal Way.

I have already blogged about some of my initial thoughts, concerning both the inherent risks (here) and the problems with the way in which the process is being conducted (here). Now I am turning my attention to the purpose: what is the point?...

The Preparatory Document  tells us that God expects us to tread the path of synodality in the third millenium (without really offering any basis for this claim) and explains that synodality is 'the specific modus vivendi et operandi of the Church, the People of God, which reveals and gives substance to her being as communion when all her members journey together, gather in assembly and take an active part in her evangelizing mission.'

But to what end?, you might ask. Well, at the highest level of abstraction, Communion, Participation, Mission. But that, I think, is the continuing goal: why we must all, always be Synodal.  With regard to the particular iteration of this Synodal process:

We recall that the purpose of the Synod, and therefore of this consultation, is not to produce documents, but “to plant dreams, draw forth prophecies and visions, allow hope to flourish, inspire trust, bind up wounds, weave together relationships, awaken a dawn of hope, learn from one another and create a bright resourcefulness that will enlighten minds, warm hearts, give strength to our hands.”

I mean, it's hard to argue with, because it's all so nebulous. But it does seem to me to be a very different understanding of the Church than anything that has gone before. And I'm afraid I don't buy it. 

For here, my Father's cynical dictum comes to mind. That may be the Good Reason, but what is the Real Reason?

Those who know me well will remember that I am not a great fan of Jung. Nonetheless, his observation: If you cannot understand why someone did something, look at the consequences—and infer the motivation offers an interesting perspective.

The initial results of the Synodal Way seem to include the German Hierarchy promoting heresy, the Flemish Bishops blessing homosexual pseudo-marriages, the raising of expectations across the Western World that moral laws, particularly with regard to sexual morality, are up for debate, and women may be admitted to the priesthood; and so forth.

Is that really what the Holy Father intends?

It is hard to know: he is always, deliberately, ambiguous in what he affirms and reluctant to condemn anything.

But his actions also speak. And it seems that he promotes and champions those who promote such views, and the only people he condemns are those who are so rigid as to adhere to the Faith as handed down by our forefathers.

Even when he says things that orthodox Catholics long for him to say, such as his condemnation of abortion, his behaviour seems to tell a different story: praising prominent promoters of abortion, and even appointing one, who is also an avowed atheist to the (already emasculated - by him) Pontifical Academy for Life.

All of that lends weight - considerable weight - to the fears of many that the Synodal Way is in fact designed to lend an air of legitimacy to a pre-determined path that will lead to the 'softening' (ie changing) of the Church's moral law. And all the talk in the Preparatory Document of the Synod being 'the whole People of God' discerning together might just explain why traditional Catholics are under such relentless and hostile attack. If they can be provoked to leave the Church, it would lend more credibility to the project: for if they stay, they will resist. And that is precisely what we should (and I am sure many of us will) do. 

Moreover...

In my last post (cue trumpet solo!) I outlined some of the risks I see in the current synodal process:  interpreting what is said through a worldly, rather than a Catholic, understanding; the inherently unrepresentative nature of the process; and the risks of bias (deliberate or inadvertent) in recording and summarising.

There are further problems, too. These are not inherent in the process, as the first batch were, but are related to the specific way in which this has been conducted.

The first of these is the nature of the questions asked.  It is instructive to consider what was asked, and also what was not asked.  

The first question, for example was:

I.               Our Journeying Companions

 

Who are we on the journey with and what persons or groups are marginalised and why?

Think of those who form our parish community as we journey together. Which people or groups are on the edges of our community? Whom do we know who no longer walks with us, those who used to and now we don’t see? How do we engage with those for whom the experience of Covid has prompted thoughts about faith? How do we welcome people? 

‘We feel connected to the Church community’

This is an interesting question, when one considers how one might go about answering it.  The first bit: who are we on a journey with? is so broad and vague as to be almost unanswerable in any meaningful way. So our attention shifts to the second clause, about marginalised people or groups. That of course invites the 'women are marginalised; lgbtq+ people are marginalised' responses that are so predictable. Was that the intention? It is hard to be sure. But if it wasn't then the choice of question was clumsy, and if it was, that raises other questions.

And then, like all the other questions, it ends with a statement that is the presumed desired state of affairs (in the written submissions, respondents were asked to tick a box to indicate the degree with which they agreed with the statement).

So looking at all 10 statements gives an overview of the desiderata:

 

We feel connected to the Church  

We feel that the Church community listens to us

We feel able to speak our minds confidently to other Church members

 The Mass/Worship helps us in our Christian lives

We want to be able to share our faith with others in our community

We often have conversations with others who have differing beliefs

We get on well with non-Catholic Christians

We have some responsibilities in our parish

Our local parish makes decisions after listening and prayer 

We are willing to listen to people even if they have different opinions to us

 In one sense there is nothing very objectionable about most of that. One might question the predominance of feeling in the opening three; and one might certainly object to the use of Mass/Worship as if anything could be on a plane with the Mass, the source and summit of the Christian life. Moreover to see the purpose of the Mass primarily as helping us in our Christian lives is deeply problematic. 

But those objections aside, what is astonishing is what is not here. There is nothing about the other sacraments; almost nothing about understanding or living the Faith...

So who has determined that these are the issues on which it is vital to hear the views of the Faithful, and on what basis have they been chosen?

Why aren't the questions based on the structure of the Catechism of the Church: Faith, the Sacramental Life, Life In Christ and Prayer, for example.  That would have been both more comprehensive and more (how shall I say this) Catholic.

It could be really valuable to learn, for example, why people neglect the Sacrament of Penance, and how (if) they engage in the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  That could usefully inform actions aimed at fostering and deepening Faith. But that doesn't seem to be the point.

Which, of course, raises the larger question: what is the point of this Synodal process?

Its early fruits seem to be enabling and apparently legitimising the expression of heretical and heterodox views. Was that always the intention?

Our current Holy Father hates to clarify ambiguities, it seems; is that his way of  permitting the expression of heretical and heterodox views, with plausible deniability?

Or if not, what?

These are hard questions, and I find myself repeating with more regularity than is normal the promise of Our Lord Himself: portae inferi non praevalaebunt adversus eam. 

So I suppose we have to recognise that God writes straight with crooked lines, and that the Holy Spirit will draw good from all of this as He best knows how.

I can already see some positives emerging from all of this. It is becoming clearer by the day which of the bishops around the world are untrustworthy, with regard to teaching the Faith.  And for myself, whilst I have found the current pontificate challenging, it has had the result of making me pray more, and of curing any tendency to ultramontanism I may have had, so there is that, too...

On the value of listening (and some reservations)

 I am a great believer in the value of listening. Both at a practical and at a theoretical level, it is of great importance. Without listening we cannot understand and engage usefully with another; and it is frequently an act of charity.

So there is a part of me that understands, and sympathises with, the theoretical justification of the Synodal Way. And yet...

My concerns are significant, and they are many.  Here I will address just the first few of them.

I volunteered to run the parish meetings to consider the synod questions. What I realised (inter alia) was that listening is not in itself a neutral activity.  Thus when I heard a small (but vociferous) number of people (n=2) saying that it was an injustice that women are not admitted to leadership positions in the Church, and specifically the priesthood, I reflected that how I heard - and the meaning I derived - from that argument depended on the assumptions, beliefs, values, and so forth that I already held.  And inevitably so.

If I listen as a Catholic, understanding that the Church does not have the authority to ordain women; and particularly as a thoughtful and informed Catholic, who understands some of the reasons for that reality, then what I hear is an expression of a lack of catechesis: these poor women have never heard, or at least never understood (and therefore never accepted) the Church's teaching. It is lamentable, but no fault of theirs, in all probability. We have been failing to teach the Faith (and in particular the difficult bits) for a whole generation or more.

Whereas, if I listen without a full Catholic understanding, and particularly if I have imbibed a worldly perspective on such issues, I might reach a different conclusion: that the Holy Spirit is speaking through the Synod to change the Church. 

So that is risk number one; what it requires, of course, is listening with discernment, to distinguish the Heilige Geist from the Zeitgeist.

But I fear that I see a lack of such discernment being played out on a large scale at the moment. 

The second risk that my involvement in the process highlighted was about representation. In our parish, at least, the people who participated came from a very small selection of parishioners who were characterised by a common feeling of discontent. These were people who wanted more inclusion - by which they meant a celebration of things heretofore regarded as sinful, such as homosexual relationships, and the revision of Church teaching to suit their own particular agenda, including (as I mentioned previously) issues such as ordaining women, and condoning divorce.

On the other side of the equation, my Schola also submitted a written response to the Synodal questions, from a perspective of, let us say, a more traditional understanding of the Faith. 

But clearly, neither of these are representative of the typical person in the pew (if that is the idea) the vast majority of whom simply declined to participate. 

The process is only really of interest to those who are unhappy, one way or the other, or to the 'professional Catholics' who make up so much of the commentariat (and they are typically unhappy, too...). So for all the listening of the listening Church, what will be heard is a very distorted account of the views of the Faithful. Is that really how we hear the voice of the Holy Spirit?   

A third problem is the problem of recording. I tried to record the meetings accurately, with some clarity about which views were commonly held and which were individual.  But it would have been very easy for me to have recorded as important those issues I held to be important, and so forth.  And that risk is repeated at every level, as the diocesan and national summaries are prepared, and then as the great and the good in the Vatican look at the overall picture and draw up their summaries. 

These risks are inherent in the process, regardless of the good intentions (or lack thereof) of those running the process.   And then there's the question of the questions, and the thinking behind this sudden interest in synodality, and the desired outcomes...  But I will come to those another day.

Breaking my silence

I have been quiet (in this space at least) for a while. But I believe that the time has come to speak up again, and in particular on two issues. One is the current mayhem being unleashed on the Church in the name of synodality; the other is the current mayhem being unleashed on the world in the name of diversity.

So in the coming weeks, if I can find a few moments, I will share my reflections on both of these topics, that have been welling up (maturing seems too great a claim) over the last years.

It is easy to wonder if we are approaching the end times: the Church seems rocked to its foundations when there is mass episcopal betrayal and the Holy See is either silent or ambiguous, or worse; and the world seems given over to its own devices, with abortion rampant, and the war on humanity leading to the destruction of both minds and bodies by ideologies, such as the transgender cult, that are as inimical to reason itself as they are to human flourishing.

Yet it is not for us to know the time set by the Father Himself; whilst we should always stay awake and stay ready for the Second Coming, we should also learn from history that many previous generations have thought that the end was near, and were mistaken.  So we must also prepare for the long haul, and in particular equip our children and our grandchildren to deal with the grim future that we bequeath them, and do whatever we reasonably and legitimately can to leave things in a better state than they are now.

For there is no doubt that we are beset by demons; and I suspect that this kind can go out by nothing, but by prayer and fasting.

Active Participation

In my missal (inherited from my Father, [Society of St John the Evangelist/Desclée & Co, 1948, with changes post-1956] who bought it in 1973), there is an interesting note with regard to the new liturgy for Palm Sunday.

The english (sic) texts of pp 382 - 558 are those of the "Holy Week Manual" published in 1956 by Burnes and Oates, London, and Desclée & Co, Tournai.

[There is then an overview of the new rite, which concludes:]

In the new rite of "Palm Sunday" the active participation of the people is provided for: -

(1) The blessing of palms is to be done in sight of the congregation and facing it; and for this the people may hold their own palms and have them sprinkled and censed in their places.
(2) The people are to take part in the procession, walking after the celebrant, carrying their palms; and women are not excluded from this procession.
(3) The congregation is to sing the responses, and if possible, the refrain Gloria laus; and it may add the hymn Christus vincit, or another one, in honour of the Christ-King.
(4) The final (new) prayer at the end of the first part of the rite is to be sung facing the people.

I am not going to comment here on the wisdom of these changes, nor the principle apparently established, that the Church could create new rites in this way.

Rather, my attention was caught by the phrase 'active participation of the people.'  This was clearly a key idea of the liturgical movement, and what interests me is how modest were the provisions made for participation, compared to those unleashed by Bugnini after the Council.

Because, and this is the point I wish to make, I was struck by the probability  indeed the near certainty - that when the Council Fathers voted for more active participation, what most will have had in mind is the modest types of provision that they had experienced since the changes of 1955, as listed above.   Clearly there is nothing here that remotely presages what actually was done in the name of that simple phrase.

Why not receive in the hand?

With the advent of the Coronavirus pandemic, we have been requested by our bishop either to receive in the hand or make a spiritual communion.

I am grateful that he did not mandate this, as that would seem to be beyond his authority, but a request is understandable (though I understand that there is no evidence base for it...)

However, I believe that obedience is best practiced when we don't agree with, or sympathise with, the authority; but I am under the authority of my bishop (and he is generally a good chap), so I will obey.

I am also grateful that he explicitly mentioned making a spiritual communion: it makes it clear that he has some understanding of the sensitivities about this issue amongst some of his flock.

For myself, therefore (and I only speak for myself) I shall be making a Spiritual Communion for the foreseeable future.

I have noticed some odd comments on social media about people making this decision, and they show a startling lack of awareness about the considerations that might inform such a decision.

So here are some of the reasons why I will not receive in the hand.

I remember when this was introduced; the arguments used didn't convince me as a teenager: they look even thinner now, with the benefit of experience and hindsight.

Indeed, much of the reasoning seemed completely specious: Communion in the hand, we were told, reminds us that we have become temples of the living God; brings out the truth that we are sharers in Jesus' priesthood; is a more mature and adult gesture...

I defy anyone to justify such twaddle.

Paul VI himself disagreed. In Memoriale Domini, which dealt with this issue (as communion in the hand had been introduced by disobedient priests in Holland and Germany) he insisted on the traditional way of receiving. He polled the bishops of the world, who were overwhelmingly against the innovation, and he reiterated the dangers of communion in the hand, including a decline in reverence and a decline in belief in the Real Presence.

However, in a pastoral gesture, he said that where the practice was already established, the Bishops' Conference, if they wished (by a 2/3 majority) could ask Rome for permission to continue the practice.

Scandalously, not only did the bishops where the practice was established petition Rome, so did many other Conferences. And through this back door, the tradition of the Church and the clear direction from the Holy Father, and the views of the majority of the world's bishops, were all overthrown.

Since then, I have also  learned that the much-quoted lines from St Cyril of Jerusalem were very carefully selected to make it seem as though this were a return to an ancient practice.  But what St Cyril practiced was very different: immediately after the oft-quoted lines about making the left hand a throne, he continues "Then, carefully sanctifying the eyes by touching them with the holy Body...." One can see why the Church developed a more fitting manner of reception... Clearly that is not what was being reintroduced. Instead, what we were being taught to do was exactly what the Protestant reformers of the 16th Century had invented. These reformers, of course, were concerned to eliminate anything redolent of belief in 'a sacrificing priesthood possessing powers denied to the laity, or the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament.'

So, given its genesis in the reformation as a gesture opposing Catholic teaching, its initial introduction in the 60s by disobedient clerics, the clear intention of Memoriale Domini and the world's bishops when the issue was addressed, and the subsequent chicanery of the E&W (and other) hierarchies in introducing this, and distributing dishonest propaganda about it; and finally, given my own observation of the truth of Paul VI's warnings of the probable consequences... no, I will not avail myself of this practice.

(For more information on this, and the source of my direct quotations, see Communion in the Hand and other Frauds, by Michael Davies)

The First Commandment

In the light of recent events in the Vatican, and the various reactions to them, I have been pondering the First Commandment.

And the Lord spoke all these words:
I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

Thou shalt not have strange gods before me.
Thou shalt not make to thyself a graven thing, nor the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth.
Thou shalt not adore them, nor serve them: I am the Lord thy God, mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me:
And shewing mercy unto thousands to them that love me, and keep my commandments.

Of course, the modern enlightened mind realises that the idea of God being jealous is clearly a nonsense, so we can disregard this passage...

However, I have an old-fashioned, unenlightened mind, so I treat it differently.  Of course, God as jealous is anthropomorphic - a metaphor. So, of course, what I want to understand is what the passage really means; and to inform that, how has the Church, the guardian and interpreter of Sacred Scripture, under the tutelage of the Holy Ghost, understood this.

The Penny Catechism is always helpful (I am a simple, as well as old-fashioned and unenlightened, soul).  It explains the first commandment (in part) thus:

181 The first Commandment does not forbid the making of images, but the making of idols; that is it forbids us to make images to be adored and honoured as gods.

182 The first Commandment forbids all dealing with the Devil, and superstitious practices such as consulting spiritualists and fortune tellers, and trusting to charms, omens, dreams and such-like fooleries.

Which is pretty clear.

And reflecting further on this, I was thinking about the folly of thinking that one can break God's commandment.  In one sense, one can, of course; but at a deeper level, one can only break oneself against the commandment.

If one takes the Law of Gravity as an analogue: one can defy the Law of Gravity by throwing oneself from a high building; but actually, the law takes effect, and one is damaged - or indeed killed - by the subsequent fall.

I think that the Commandments of God are the same; the implicit second half of each commandment is '... or you will bring spiritual death on yourself, (and harm to others).'

And these Commandments apply to all humanity. It is true that the subjective guilt may be less if one is genuinely ignorant, but these are bad things for people to do.  Not bad (only) because they offend a jealous God (to talk in metaphor - as that is the principle way in which we can talk about God) but bad because they are bad for us, in just the same way that jumping off a high building is bad for us - they will damage us (and normally, hurt others, too).

That is why any enculturation that encourages the pagan to persist in pagan practices is wrong; and any enculturation that encourages Catholics to indulge in pagan practices is even more wrong. Not only is it offensive to God, but it is necessarily damaging to the spiritual welfare of all involved.

However much indigenous people may revere Pachamama, we may not do so, nor encourage them to continue to do so, even out of the wish to befriend them.  We may not do evil that good may come of it.

Not to mention the small matter of scandal...

I end with my usual caveat: I am no theologian, merely an old-fashioned, unreconstructed and rather simple Catholic: I am always open to correction by those better informed.

Our Lady Who Turns Her Face to the Wall

Some years ago, my late mother gave me a small statue of Our Lady of Torreciudad.  She sits on top of the chest of drawers by my bed, in the corner of the room.  And she turns her face to the wall.

Or to be more accurate, perhaps, she turns her whole self to the wall.  She does this gradually, over time, so I don't notice it happening, until suddenly, one day, I see that she's facing the wall (or nearly) and turn her back.

The explanation, of course, is simple and natural; the statue has come free of its base, and every time I shut one of the drawers, it shifts a little on its base, with the net result I have described.

But because I am a very simple soul (or a very profound one - you decide) I see meaning in such things. There's a line in CS Lewis somewhere (That Hideous Strength, I rather fancy) about Our Lord doing all things for all people. 

And so I ask myself, why would Our Lady turn her face to the wall?  And the answer, of course, is sin.  So now I have developed the practice of only turning Our Lady back to face the room when I have been to confession: and when she turns to the wall, I know it's time to go again.

And that works pretty well...

Guilty or not guilty?

I have followed the story of the trials of Cardinal Pell (as best one can, given the information management strategies in place for much of the time); not least because I have met him, and have walked the pilgrimage to Chartres with his (then) personal secretary, Fr Mark Withoos (now Brother Augustine Mary, OSB). So I am not an impartial observer: I have personal reasons to believe him innocent. But that is not what I want to write about here (and for good accounts of why the verdict against him is suspect, see here and here)

But I am blogging because I have something to say which is from a fairly unusual perspective: I have been on the jury of a rape trial.

I need to proceed with some caution, as it is an offence to talk about anything said in the Jury room, even once a trial is over.

Therefore I will give no clues about the location or date of the trial, nor any indication of any remarks made by any individual juror. Instead I will recount my own impressions, feelings and reactions to the experience, in the hope that they will shed some light.

The first thing to say is that I found the experience harrowing. Listening to the woman in the case describe the years of controlling behaviour (another charge) and multiple counts of rape and sexual abuse that she was accusing the defendant of perpetrating, was terrible. I quickly found myself thinking, imagine if this was one of my daughters - and feeling extremely angry as well as profoundly upset.

But listening to the defendant, conscious of the assumption of innocence as the foundation of our system of justice, I consciously tried to imagine that it was my son in the box, accused of all these foul deeds, so as to listen without the previous anger distorting my judgement.

In the event, the evidence was confused and confusing. Both witnesses had mental health issues; both contradicted themselves, let alone each other. Their lives were chaotic, and they both demonstrably lied on more than one occasion.

That made it extremely difficult to reach a clear view as to what had happened.

But in the Jury room there were two people who had swallowed the 'Believe the victim' narrative so strongly that they found a guilty vote on each charge to be easy. The rest of us were less convinced.  Indeed, it was hard to believe the victim when she gave contradictory accounts of the same event: which version should we believe?

But the amount of pressure I felt to conform to their view was substantial. It was moral cowardice not to convict this evil man, in the eyes of some.

After the trial (and outside the Jury room, so I can mention it) one of the other Jurors thanked me for the role I had taken in reminding people of the standard of proof required by law: beyond reasonable doubt, and for standing up to those trying to exert moral suasion. Without me, she said, she and others might have felt obliged to fall in with their view.

In the event, we could agree no verdict on the rape and abuse charges. 

Given the sustained campaign against the Catholic Church in general, and Cardinal Pell in particular, in Australia, along with public pronouncements from the highest quarters about believing victims, in the run-up to his trial, it seems to me quite likely that the Jury room in that case was a much more pressurised environment.

I believe a serious miscarriage of justice has taken place, and I think I have some insight into at least one of the contributory factors.

UPDATE

I am delighted, of course, that the High Court judges unanimously reached the same conclusion: that a serious miscarriage of justice had taken place, and that the only possible verdict in the case, given the evidence, was Not Guilty.

The Great Antiphons: O Emmanuel

Today is the seventh and final Great O Antiphon, O Emmanuel.  As always, this is the antiphon sung just before the Magnificat at Vespers. It is the last, because tomorrow's Vespers, on Christmas Eve, is the First Vespers of Christmas.

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,

exspectatio Gentium, et Salvator earum:

veni ad salvandum nos, Domine, Deus noster.

O Emmanuel, our king and our lawgiver,

the hope of the nations and their Saviour:

Come and save us, O Lord our God.

Here is the final part of Pärt's Sieben Magnificat Antiphonen.

O Immanuel, unser König und Lehrer,  du Hoffnung und Heiland der Völker:  o komm, eile und schaffe uns Hilfe,  du unser Herr und unser Gott. O Emmanuel, our king and counselor,  Thou hope and saviour of the nations:  O come, make haste to help us,  Thou our Lord and our God, our God.

The Great Antiphons: O Rex Gentium

Today's Great Antiphon is O Rex Gentium.

O Rex Gentium, et desideratus earum,

lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:

veni, et salva hominem,

quem de limo formasti.

O King of the nations, and their desire,

the cornerstone making both one:

Come and save the human race,

which you fashioned from clay.

And here is Arvo Pärt's setting:

O König aller Völker, ihre Erwartung und Sehnsucht, Schlußstein, der den Bau zusammenhält, o komm und errette den Menschen, den du aus Erde gebildet! O king of all nations, their expectation and desire, Keystone, which holds all things together: O come and save mankind, whom thou hast formed from clay!

The Great Antiphons: O Oriens

Today's Great Antiphon is O Oriens.

O Oriens,

splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae:

veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

O Morning Star,

splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:

Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

Here is Arvo Pärt's setting:

O Morgenstern, Glanz des unversehrten Lichtes: Der Gerechtigkeit strahlende Sonne: o komm und erleuchte, die da sitzen in Finsternis, und im Schatten des Todes. O morning star, incandescence of pure light,  radiant sun of righteousness;  O come and enlighten those who sit there in darkness  and in the shadow of death.