What is to be done?

The indomitable Red Maria (@dolphinmaria on Twitter) has tweeted at me: 

I think your analysis is rational and correct. The question is what is to be done?
As Marx said, "Philosophers have interpreted the world; the point is to change it." 
Initiatives like the letter in support of priests were excellent. Why stop there? What's next?

Well, appeals to the authority of Marx (whether Karl or Cardinal) are surely the way to get me going...

However, I am not by nature an activist, in the political sense, still less a leader. But that does not let me off the hook, of course: many of those whom God has called to lead decisively would have said the same, I am sure. But I am also keenly aware of the risk to those who lead political resistance successfully that they be corrupted by the process (history is littered with examples) and I am not convinced that I would have the strength and integrity to avoid that fate.

More significantly, my analysis of the problems we face is that they are primarily spiritual problems. They may manifest in political ways in some prelates and priests, but the roots are spiritual.

So I believe that the response must be primarily spiritual. At the personal level, that means prayer and fasting; a sacramental life, and a growth in faith, hope and charity. And on that journey, I have a long way to travel.

But I am also part of a larger whole, the Church, and my own imperfections do not let me off from making a contribution there.  However, if my analysis of the problems is correct, and that it is primarily a spiritual battle in which we are engaged, that also must inform our response. 

According to St Augustine (I understand - I am not a great scholar and get most of my knowledge second or third hand - in this case, if I recall correctly, from Frank Sheed) the faculties of the soul that distinguish men from animals are intellect, memory and will.

So one of the ways in which we oppose the malaise infecting the Church must be by the use of the intellect. We must study, and we must analyse, and we must share the results of that study and analysis. That is where the internet has proved such a boon. Previously, it was easy to be swamped by the approved narrative, and to imagine that one was alone in one's questions. Now, one can find other concerned and well-informed Catholics and learn from them - and (as I have frequently found) they are also good at correcting our misunderstandings and misperceptions.

Another way we must oppose the malaise is by the use of the memory. And here I am referring to the collective memory of the Church, which is Tradition. That is why I find it infuriating when people claim novelty as restoration - it is reminiscent of the wilful destruction of collective memory that was such a feature of Ingsoc in Orwell's 1984. Indeed, the more I reflect on this, the more I think that is why I am at heart a traditionalist. I refuse to discard the wisdom of the generations of saints who have preceded me, and the teachings of Christ Himself and His apostles which the Holy Spirit has inspired the Church to understand with ever-increasing depth over the centuries. I refuse to imagine that we in the early twentyfirst century are so much wiser than our forebears that we can discard all that has gone before that is out of sympathy with our present culture and sentiments.

Finally, there is the will. We are called above all to love. And that means to love even when we have been betrayed; to love even those who have betrayed us. I find that very difficult, and I am clear that if I were to engage in active campaigns, the risk would be that it would be bad for me. I reflect on some of my posts on ++Nichols, for example, and wonder whether my motives would stand scrutiny. I am always haunted by that great couplet in Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral:

The last temptation is the greatest treason: 
To do the right deed for the wrong reason.

Of course,  should I discern that I am called to something more, then I will strive to answer that call. But for the present, I think that living my vocation as husband, father and professional, living a sacramental life and seeking to grow in virtue, and contributing as I can to the intellectual, traditional and charitable life of the Church, is how I am called to oppose the malaise at present. 

I don't think that's quietism - but as ever, am open to correction.

Catholic Schools as Sanctuaries

I knew there was something else... something that has been niggling at the back of my mind over the weekend.

And I woke up with that sudden clarity induced by a glass or two of red last night and a shower this morning.

It is this: I think the practice of appointing ex-nuns and ex-priests (I use the term in the colloquial sense - priestly ordination is, of course, permanent) to teach in our Catholic schools is a very risky one.

It has been going on for decades now: someone leaves the convent or the presbytery and immediately turns up teaching in a Catholic School.

Here's why that concerns me. I think that teaching in a Catholic School is also a vocation. A Catholic School should be a sanctuary dedicated to learning the Faith and how to live as a Catholic adult in a hostile culture, not a sanctuary for people on the run from their vocation, or struggling to come to terms with themselves.

That, I am sure, sounds harsh. But the reality is that if people are leaving the priesthood or the religious life, they have either discovered that they have mistaken their vocation, or are in the process of abandoning it. Either of these realities is likely to be a traumatic and unsettling time for them: it is not the time to start teaching children.

Yet somehow, Catholic Schools repeatedly appoint people in that situation. I suspect it is as a way of keeping them on the Catholic payroll, as it were, when their lives are in transition. A charitable aim, perhaps, but I think a misguided response.

I am not saying that no ex-priest or ex-nun should ever be employed as a teacher. People who have gone through that trauma are certainly not beyond redemption, and once they have resolved their crisis they may make fine teachers.

Nor am I saying that the Church should not find ways to support such people: that may indeed be an obligation, and is almost certainly an act of charity.

But it is also true that while going through such turmoil, people are almost by definition not in the most stable state. Many also have issues with the Church and its teaching. 

So I think that at the very least there should be both a cooling off period, and then a process of genuine scrutiny before appointing such people to teaching positions in Catholic Schools. Our children deserve no less; and yet that is not what I see happening.

So what hope is there?

In my most recent post, I said that my next would be on hope.

In the absolute sense, of course, Hope is foundational to Catholicism.  But I was being more specific than that, and thinking of the current crisis in the Church in this country.

Of course, our hope is always grounded in the Resurrection and Ascension of Our Lord, His Redemptive Work, and His promises to us. We know that the victory has been won, and that whilst the skirmishes continue, there is no doubt about the outcome. Our job is to make sure that we are on the right side, and to bring as many with us as we possibly can.

Nonetheless, when we find ourselves in a crisis where a number of the hierarchy have forfeited our trust, and many priests and even bishops seem to be in de facto schism with the Church, it is easy to be disheartened.

So it helps me to take stock of our reasons for hope, even in such times.

As well as the fundamental ones already mentioned, I think there are many more we can consider. For example, it is easy to imagine that the problems we face are unprecedented; but in fact the reverse is the case. A brief consideration of the Arian heresy, universally, or the Reformation, locally, will serve to remind us that bishops can go off the rails.

(Someone had a go at me recently for failing to trust the bishops 'appointed by the Holy Father.' I thought that odd. In the light of both history, and indeed the recent +Conry scandal, it is clear that bishops can and do go off the rails; moreover, to imagine that the Holy Father appoints bishops other than based on the information he receives from those who know the candidates, seems odd to me. It is not St John Paul I think was remiss in the appointment of +Conry...)

But to return to my theme, in both the crises I mentioned, it was the lay faithful who kept the Faith.

Moreover, what we face now is not, in fact, as grave a crisis as either of those. We have several bishops in England and Wales who are  trustworthy, and who do work tirelessly to pass on the Faith as they have received it.

Also, it is not outside the wisdom of Providence that we are born in this place and in this time. Rather than lose heart, we should give thanks for everything, always.

Moreover, it is not my responsibility, as a lay man, to govern the Church in this country. My priorities start with my personal salvation, my responsibilities of state as a husband and father, and my professional, parish and social relationships. Beyond that, of course, I do have responsibilities in the wider Church: but the fact that I do not see how to get the Church in E&W back on track should not weigh too heavily upon me.

If I discharge my immediate responsibilities with Faith, Hope and Charity, then I am in fact doing the larger part of my duty. If I want to do more, all well and good, but I should not lose sight of those first priorities: and they are things that I can have a direct impact on.

So whilst I will continue to decry the sorry state of the CBCEW, and to ponder what can usefully be done, I will try not to allow that to distract me from what I should really be doing: in the sure and certain hope that salvation is won for me, and freely offered, if I just accept the graces being poured out on me.

Now, I had a talent buried around here somewhere; perhaps I'd better try to dig it up and put it to work.

Exciting News

The big news in the Trovato household is that Antonia, our eldest daughter, is getting married in the summer.

Her poor fiancé - let us call him Zachary, for obvious reasons - had to find me alone in order to ask my permission (though I later learned that in order to bolster his courage, Ant had said she would marry him even if I refused permission - the minx!)  He caught me as I was laying a fire in the stove, so I was bent down with my face covered in ash, which was perhaps not the scene he had imagined.

Whilst we were not surprised at the fact of the engagement, the timing was a little earlier than we had envisaged.  Had you asked me, I think I would have predicted my reaction as likely to be: 'OK, but a bit early…'  But in fact that was not how I really reacted. I am truly delighted, as is Anna (the redoubtable Mrs T).

Zachary is naturally pleased that we are so positive, and also surprised as he thought we would not be so enthusiastic.  In precisely the same way, Ant is surprised at how pleased Zachary's parents are (though of course, that is no surprise to us: we think he is doing very well…).

And it makes sense: they have been going out together for four years, and now they have finished University and are organising the rest of their lives.  They found that they were both making plans around each other, and thought it was a bit silly to try to contrive to live within a few streets of each other, when what they really wanted was to be together.

Like any proposed marriage, it is not without its risk: the union of two fallen people in matrimony is always a challenge.  In this case, it is complicated by the fact that Zachary is not a Catholic, or even a Christian.

Naturally, that has been a matter of some discussion between us and Ant, and much thought and prayer by Ant herself.

Moreover, I reflect that Anna was not Catholic (and only nominally Christian) when we married, so these things can work out.

Indeed, whilst my natural preference would be for all my daughters to marry wonderful Catholic men, I can also see there are risks in that too, in terms of broader evangelisation: we do not need to retreat into a ghetto.

Ant has clearly decided that her vocation is to seek both her sanctity and his in matrimony: and I believe she is old and wise enough to discern her path.

They are both young: but then so were we, and interestingly so were Zachary's parents when they got married having met at University (and they are still happily married too) so we are all fairly relaxed about that aspect (though Anna's mum, who married later in life, is not…)

Please remember them both in your prayers.

In this House of Brede

I recently finished reading Rumer Godden's In This House of Brede.  It forms an interesting counterpoint to Bugnini.

Godden's tale is about a nun (a late vocation) in the 1950s and 60s. It is, as usual with Godden, a subtle novel, sensitively plotted, with excellent characterisation and a wonderful sense of place.

In this case the place is a Benedictine monastery (as it is more correctly called, apparently) of nuns; and Godden pulls off the difficult trick of making good characters convincing and engaging.

She is not primarily interested in the changes in the Church in that period, but they form a backdrop to the novel which I, at least, found quite fascinating.  Some of the nuns are horrified at the mere idea of Mass being celebrated facing them; others are keen for change and modernisation.  Godden doesn't take sides, but presents both views with understanding and sympathy.

One of the things that comes across so powerfully, though, is what was lost with the changes; the monastery she describes as typical in its day is a complete rarity today, though some are striving to recover it.  Of course, not everything was perfect, and that too is made quite clear; but overall, it was a place of prayer and growth, where sanctity was the goal and was, I suspect, often quietly achieved.

I highly recommend this to anyone interested in Catholicism then and now...

A Lifestyle Choice

I don't often read Peter Hitchens (or indeed anything in the Mail or Mail on Sunday, you will be shocked to learn) but somebody pointed me at this column and it set me thinking.

I am not sure precisely what the Chancellor meant in calling full-time motherhood 'a lifestyle choice'; but then I suspect that he wasn't sure either, so that's OK.  It sounded, at least, somewhat disapproving.

Antonia was born some 22 years ago, and we were younger and (a little) more in tune with the spirit of the age. Anna (Mrs T.) was a successful professional: a Finance Director at the age of 30. She earned about the same (on a regular basis) as I earned erratically from my freelance work.  So it seemed sensible for her to keep working (she enjoyed her work) and arrange for childcare for Ant.  We did that: it was a bit stressful taking her to a nursery which she clearly enjoyed less than our company, and it was hard for Anna, who felt guilty when at work, thinking about her baby, and guilty when at home, thinking about her work...

Then Bernadette arrived, a couple of years later.  Anna decided to go part-time, and we got a nanny for the girls.

It didn't work. Her employer was very supportive, but nonetheless, Anna was expected to do exactly the same in part-time hours as she had been doing in full-time hours, for rather less pay.  The nanny, though a delightful girl, was not as intelligent or as stimulating, or as fun for the girls to be with, and certainly was not passing on the kinds of values and lifestyle (there's that word again) that we wished. A simple example was that she rarely read them any stories...

So Anna quit, and has been a full-time mother (more or less) ever since.  I say more or less, as she has done some part-time short-term jobs, and also a significant amount of voluntary work, once all the kids were at school - but nearly all during school hours.

The benefits have been significant: her relationship with all of the children is excellent; they have all grown up happy, healthy, confident and secure.  They all practice their Faith.

But of course there has been a cost. Whilst we are not impoverished, we have an income of about 50% of that which we would have had if she had stayed in employment, and with no security attached to it either (and indeed it has fluctuated fairly dramatically over the years: it can be feast or famine here...) She has no pension of course (and as the one I have paid into for three decades is worth almost nothing, that is significant).

As a result, we tend to go easy on things like holidays: for many years, camping in Scotland was the family holiday. Last year and this, we have pushed the boat out and hired a cottage for a week. But it is a long time - more than a decade - since we had a holiday abroad as a family.

That, I think, is a lifestyle choice; though in fact we see it more as living our vocation. It is a choice we made about how we thought we should live our lives. It was not without costs, including a certain amount of social disapprobation,  but it is one we are both happy with; and we appreciate that it is a choice that we were lucky to be able to make.

But why the Chancellor should look down his nose at it, which seems to be the drift of his remarks, is a mystery to me.

Prayers for Vocations

Our Bishop's pastoral letter for today, Good Shepherd Sunday (which may be read in full from a link here) included an announcement of a novena for Vocations:

Here in our Diocese of Lancaster there will be a nine week novena of prayer for vocations beginning on Pentecost Sunday, and I ask you, your parish and your local Catholic school and college to be part of that ‘wave of prayer’ ascending to Almighty God. Christ the Good Shepherd has given His life for His flock and so will never leave His Church bereft of priests, but our own individual efforts of encouragement, sacrifices and prayers do matter too. May all of us remain faithful in prayer to the Lord of the harvest that He may never fail to send priestly workers into the vineyard of the Diocese of Lancaster. 

 I don't know if other bishops are asking the same thing; but clearly prayers for vocations are very important; and a nine week novena is an excellent idea.

Pray for our Holy Father, our bishops, priests, religious and deacons; and pray for vocations.

Veni, Sancte Spiritus, reple tuorum corda fidelium: et tui amoris in eis ignem accende. 

V. Emitte Spiritum tuum, et creabuntur. 
R. Et renovabis faciem terrae. 

Oremus. Deus, qui corda fidelium Sancti Spiritus illustratione docuisti: da nobis in eodem Spiritu recta sapere; et de eius semper consolatione gaudere. Per Christum, Dominum nostrum.

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of Thy love. 

V. Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created. 
R. And Thou shalt renew the face of the earth. 

Let us pray. O God, Who has taught the hearts of the faithful by the light of Thy Holy Spirit, grant by the same Spirit that we may be always truly wise, and ever rejoice in His consolation. Through Christ our Lord.

More on American Nuns’ Leadership

I have been wading through the LCWR  (Leadership Conference of Women Religious) booklet: An Invitation to Systems Thinking about which I have already blogged here.  Perhaps the saddest and most telling indictment is this:

10. What experience, skills, relationships, and resources do we bring to this effort?

As a leadership team we bring a variety of life experience, academic backgrounds, and enneagram and Meyers-Briggs configurations. Our strongest resource is the conviction that we do not have to change the congregation. We have first to change ourselves and stay in relationship with our members. Changes in the congregational system and consequently in other systems will eventually follow.

First, note what they do not say that they bring, as a leadership team, to this conflict: 

• The Theological Virtues: Faith, Hope, Charity; 
• The Cardinal Virtues: Justice, Fortitude, Prudence, Temperance; 
• The Gospel or the Apostolic Tradition and Teaching of the Church; 
• The Gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, the fear of the Lord; 
• The Fruits of the Holy Spirit: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, chastity.

Second, note what they do say that they bring - A variety of:

• Life experiences
• Academic backgrounds
• Enneagram configurations
• Meyers-Briggs (sic) configurations

and their strongest resource: 

• the conviction that we do not have to change the congregation.

No wonder they are morally and spiritually in such a wilderness.

Let’s consider briefly each of their sacred cows - or golden calves.

Life experiences teach only when interpreted.  To teach in a Catholic sense, they need to be interpreted through a Catholic hermeneutic, or (as Open Systems theory would have it) a Catholic Mental Model.

The same is true of academic backgrounds, and it would seem, at least from the evidence of this document, that a rather different hermeneutic has been brought to bear.

The Enneagram I see as highly problematic, of dubious origins and a weird thing for Christians, let alone Catholics, to pay such heed to.  But I know many love it.

The Myers Briggs model is more useful, perhaps, but it is a tool, not an end.  Its genesis in Jungian psychology is problematic (for me at least) but it does raise some interesting questions that are worth discussing.

None of these (with the possible exception of the Enneagram) is intrinsically inimical to the Catholic Faith, but to elevate them in your thinking to a place above the virtues and the teaching of Christ and His Church is somewhat problematic,particularly for the leaders of Catholic Nuns.

How did they get there?  I can’t help wondering if this is part of the legacy of the work of Carl Rogers who wreaked such havoc in the Catholic Nuns’ Congregations in the US from the early 1960s on. It all has the same flavour: placing process above outcome, and relativity and ‘understanding’ above the search for truth (indeed denying that truth exists, let alone that it can be found.)

That is so well expressed in 'the conviction that we do not have to change the congregation.'  Given they are leaders of a congregation in which some nuns clearly detest the Mass (see previous post) that is an extraordinary abdication of responsibility.

(Incidentally, I’ve blogged about Carl Rogers passim - there’s a search button at the bottom of the sidebar if you are interested...)

So one can see that it is not surprising that the Holy See is having a good long look at the Nuns and their leadership in the US. In fact, if that were not happening, one could say it was a dereliction of duty.

Am I in deep trouble?...

I had a look at the Holy See's comments on the reasons for the crack down on the dissident American nuns (LCWR).

I was somewhat perturbed to see that particular mention was made of their booklet: An Invitation to Systems Thinking. This was not to be used any more, until it had been reviewed...

As the avid reader of this blog will be only too aware, I have referred positively to Systems Thinking on more than one occasion (here, here, and here for example).  Am I a fellow traveller with the LCWR?  Will the Holy See have to proscribe my blog?

So I decided to have a look at An Invitation to Systems Thinking.  Whilst poorly written in parts, the overview of Systems Thinking it presents is consonant with my understanding of it.  I was starting to get worried. Have I really fallen so deeply into error?

Then I started to read the Case Studies, and was relieved.  Here, I thought, was sufficient reason to suspend the use of the booklet.  It was not the theory, but the way it was being applied that was so questionable.

To give you a flavour, here is an extract from the first case study, discussing the different mental models of those on either side of a dispute about whether a Mass is a suitable way of celebrating their Founder's anniversary (imagine nuns even having that dispute!):

Not only the assumptions and needs, but also the values inherent in both of these mental models influence how we do theology and how we express spirituality. Generally speaking ”the Western mind” values orderliness, predictability, efficiency, continuity, productivity and a clear chain of authority. Theology stemming from this system influenced many of us during our most formative years. Grounded in this theology sisters believe that the celebration of Eucharist is the summit of worship and at the core of what holds us together as a group.
Generally speaking the “Organic” mental model values chaos, connectedness, process, inclusivity, relationship, and a non-linear expression of authority. Process, liberationist and feminist theologies develop in this kind of a milieu. Some sisters, schooled in these theologies and situated within this mental model, believe that the celebration of Eucharist is so bound up with a church structure caught in negative aspects of the Western mind they can no longer participate with a sense of integrity. 

What is even more disturbing is that the approach, as practiced here, outlaws making any judgement on either model.

In responding we intentionally created our own ‘disturbance.’ We wrote and spoke with many of those who expressed concerns. In our response we
1)  resisted the temptation to ‘fix’ the situation;
2)  provided information by sharing our understanding of what the planners had in mind;
3)  attempted to clarify both our own and the congregation’s identity at this time, by stating our belief that our current situation of differing understandings about the Eucharist and differing ways of celebrating Eucharist not only create uncertainty and frustration, but also offer new opportunities for the Spirit to lead us in life giving patterns of prayer;
4)  attempted to strengthen relationships by thanking the writers and at the same time voicing our support for allowing the planning committee to do its work as it saw fit;                              5)  tried to honor all the voices by receiving without judgment each one’s uncertainty and frustration around the Eucharist question facing the Congregation; and by affirming the desire in each of us to have the best possible celebration of our founder.

6)  invited a broader discussion of the Planning Committee’s proposal at our open representative
Governing Board meeting a month later where the tensions around the issue were aired, and the
authority of the Planning Committee was respected.

I am relieved to say, I find myself a very long way away from the LCWR after all... 

A Blind Blogger

Not many of my readers will know this, but I was born blind.

I assert that it is no moral failing of mine - or my parents - that led to this.   Anyone who calls me a sinner based on this has departed from Christianity.

Naturally, life has certain complications when one does not have the gift of sight.  It can seem very unfair, and understandably, I resent any unjust discrimination against blind people.

I have various options in my response to this:

1. I could be depressed and self-pitying, railing agains the unfairness of everything.
2. I could accept it as a cross to bear, and strive to live as normal - and as cheerful - a life as I can, whilst recognising the reality that there are certain things I will never be able to do, as sight is integral to them.
3. I could celebrate it as a blessing and affirm it as a good, and strive to prove that there is nothing, literally nothing, that a blind person cannot do on the same terms as a sighted person.

That third option is the one I want to explore a little further this morning.

It may sound the most positive of the three, but it is not.  It is not, because it is delusional.  Being blind is not a blessing, but a deficiency.  There are things I cannot do - because there are things to which sight is integral.

Although I was born blind, and in that sense it is natural to me, it is not how man is meant to be: that much is clear simply by looking around me (you may have noticed I don’t shy away from visual words, either - ever heard of the ‘mind’s eye’?)

So to treat blindness as a blessing is, as I said, delusional; and look where it leads. To sustain the delusion, I may start to identify myself primarily by my blindness, and all sorts of damaging consequences will follow.

For example, I will start to see the unfairness that is inherent in being blind as injustice directed at me.  Why should others be allowed to do things that I can’t?  Why was I not allowed to play tennis at school?  Why am I not allowed a driving licence? ‘They’ have got something against blind people.  What unjust discrimination!

Such a sense of grievance is easy to nurture when one is in a minority, when everyone takes the majority experience as normative.  But the truth is, it is normative.  We cannot, and should not, try to order the world so that being sighted confers no advantage - because man is meant to be sighted.

But what if I took it further? 

Suppose I insisted that language be stripped of every word pertaining to the visual, as it oppressed me (and other blind people) for such language to be used.

Suppose I demanded that the Church, in solidarity with such an oppressed minority, removed all visual symbolism from its buildings and ceremonies.


Suppose I denounced any doctor trying to cure blindness as an evil bigot, and any blind person seeking such a cure as damaged and oppressed.

Suppose I argued that being blind is such a blessing that others should be free to experience it too.  Let us remove the taboos we enjoin on our children to prevent that.  Let them learn to gaze on the noon day sun: after all, I do, and I can tell you from experience it is a lovely feeling.  And if doing so, some children become blind, well, there is nothing wrong with that: blindness is a blessing, after all.

Blindness is not, of course sinful: how could it be?  But it is objectively disordered.  And if one responds in the wrong way, as with anything else in fallen Man, it can become an occasion of sin.

--

It’s not true, of course (I have always been candid about my mendacity - see the side bar...).  I am not blind.  This is an extended metaphor: re-read it inserting same sex attraction for blind, and changing the examples accordingly...

This is an attempt to explain why one can be against homosexual marriage without hating homosexuals; just as one can oppose blind people being given driving licences without hating blind people: driving a car is something they simply cannot do.  One can even be against children being taught that homosexuality is a blessing without hating homosexuals.  And one can certainly oppose a homosexual lobby that seeks to hold homosexuality up as a blessing... without hating homosexuals.


Or to put it another way, option two is the Christian response.

Put nuns on the Pill

Our friend Scout, ever keen to educate the Catholics of the world from his or her position of unique enlightenment, has drawn my attention to a report in the Lancet. Actually, he or she links to the Guardian, which is slightly easier perhaps, but the Lancet article may be found here.

The point is that some Australian researchers report a link between the celibate life of a nun and a higher risk of contracting breast, ovarian and uterine cancer. Further, they note that the contraceptive pill is reported to reduce such risks (though in the case of breast cancer, at least, there has been much contradictory reporting of evidence over the years, so the case is perhaps not quite so clear cut.)

Therefore, Catholic Nuns should be put on the Pill.

I have a few observations to offer:

One is that I can't help thinking that some of the motivation behind this reporting is anti-Catholic and slightly puerile: ho ho ho nuns on the Pill - that'll show the Vatican!...

A second is that if the Pill is taken as a bona fide medicine, by a celibate woman, and therefore with no chance of it acting as either a contraceptive or an abortifacient, it's probably a non-issue; just as if I use a condom as an insulating material in an electrical circuit (as happened in The Day of the Jackal, if I remember correctly), that is not a moral problem.

A third (and Scout will love this one) is that the whole argument is premised on the assumption that nuns will want to avoid disease and live longer and healthier lives. That is not an unreasonable assumption; but there are other possibilities. The celibate life is overtly and deliberately self-sacrificial (that is one of the principal reasons it is so derided). St Bernadette, for example, saw her vocation as to suffer, and was by no means unique in this. So it seems to me quite possible that some (a few? many? all?) nuns may be quite happy to accept the cup that their Lord is offering them when they swear to celibacy, even including an earlier death.

But for the average Guardian reader, I fear that will be entirely incomprehensible.

Careers and vocations

A chap called Ttony, with a stutter presumably (I wouldn’t mention it, but he seems to make a point of it) left a comment a while back which set me thinking.

I have to say, that I discourage our kids from thinking about careers much. I have, too often, seen kids pursuing either their parents’ ambitions for them (to be a doctor, typically!) or an amibtion they settled on early in life - and it going wrong.

But I am more than happy to get the girls to recognise that their vocation is highly likely to include being a wife and mother, or possibly a religious sister: something the schools don’t seem interested in discussing...

Indeed, Ant has taken to winding the careers people up by talking in such terms. I can't think where she gets it from!