English Version of the SSPX Novena of Prayer, 30 June – 8 July

Father Finigan has published this post about the request by the Society of St Pius X for a Novena of prayer, in anticipation of the Society’s General Chapter, which will take place from 9-14 July. The Novena period is from 30 June to 8 July.

As Father Finigan says, let’s all join in. Whatever may betide, prayer is never wasted. God will turn it all to good, in His time and in His way.

For convenience, I have typed the entire English version below.

VENI CREATOR

Come, Holy Ghost, Creator
Take possession of our souls
Infuse with heavenly grace
The hearts Thou hast created

Thou Who art called the Paraclete
Best gift of the Most High God
Living fountain, fire, charity
And spiritual unction

Thou sevenfold gift
Finger of God’s right hand
Thou promise of the Father
Teaching speech and understanding

Enkindle the light of our minds
Pour love into our hearts
The infirmity of our body
Confirm with perpetual strength

Repulse the enemy even further
And give peace in his stead
May Thou so lead us
That we evade all harm

Through Thee grant us to know
Father as well as Son
And with Both Thee, Spirit, Trinity
Forever may we believe in

Let glory be to God the Father
And to the Son, Who from the dead
Has arisen, and the Paraclete
Unto ages of ages, Amen.

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 did instruct the hearts of the faithful by the light of the Holy Ghost, grant that by the same Spirit we may relish what is right, and ever rejoice in His consolation. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

SUB TUUM PRAESIDIUM

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God: despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us from all dangers, O ever glorious and blessed Virgin!

PRAYER TO ST PIUS X

O God, Who for the defence of the Catholic Faith and the restoration of all things in Christ, didst fill the holy Pope Pius with heavenly wisdom and apostolic courage, mercifully grant that we, following his instruction and example, may attain his eternal reward. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

St Pius X, pray for us.

Another journey to London

A happy but tiring day in London yesterday, to attend Fr Hunwicke’s First Mass in the Extraordinary Form.

Slept very badly, which meant I was already up and about before my alarm clock was due to go off. Taxi to the station, then by train to London Paddington. Crowded: long queues for tickets in the Underground.

The day was already very warm as I made my way from South Kensington Tube station to the nearby Brompton Oratory. Dark and somewhat cooler in the big Baroque church.

Fr Hunwicke’s Mass was not at the High Altar, but at the Lady Altar. This made the occasion more intimate because we were closer to the celebrant, even though we had to face sideways in our chairs.

A modest, dignified Low Mass. I love the straightforwardness of this form of the Holy Sacrifice.

After the Mass we were able to kneel at the sanctuary rail of the High Altar and receive Father Hunwicke’s First Blessing. A great joy. I can’t remember ever having received this before.

There were one or two faces I recognised, but none I could put a name to, except for Fr Blake of Brighton. He has blogged about the event here.

I left the building and walked the short distance to the Victoria & Albert Museum. At that moment, five Royal Air Force jets in close formation – Tornadoes, I guessed –roared fast and low along the length of the street. I remembered that the Bomber Command memorial was being opened, and supposed they were connected with that. Today’s paper has confirmed that they were indeed Tornadoes.

Lunch in a very busy V&A, then a look round the 20th century costume exhibits. I love fabrics and was very interested in the cut of the clothes.

There was still a good deal of time before I needed to go back to Paddington for my homeward train. I thought of walking up to Hyde Park to see the Albert memorial and the Royal Albert Hall; but with every step in the humid heat I felt more and more tired, and more conscious that each step would have to be duplicated for the return. And so I turned back, and trudged to the tube station.

The first train was very full. Two buskers with fiddle and guitar were plying their trade amidst the scrum. I decided to try another train, and got off at the next station. So did the buskers. They struck up again, but I think they were only rehearsing. There were few people on the platforms, and the station was cool, which I appreciated.

I arrived at Paddington with an hour and a half to spare. The time went surprisingly quickly. Saw an elderly man, very smart and upright, with a row of medals on his jacket. He must have been to the opening of the memorial. I think I recognised him in the newspaper picture this morning.

My reserved seat on the return journey was in the only carriage on the train in which the air conditioning had broken down. What sort of luck is that? I endured it until the train had disgorged the greater part of its passengers, and then moved to find somewhere cooler.

Taxi home from the station, and it was a long time since I had felt so exhausted, what with the bad night and the heat. Slept for nine and a half hours last night, and I needed every minute of it.

"Strictly Kosher": Highly Recommended

This Monday and Tuesday evenings just gone (25 and 26 June 2012) I watched a two-part documentary about the Jewish community of Manchester. I found it charming and endearing, and in parts very moving. I recommend it with pleasure. It will continue to be available on ITV Player for 28 days.

Shrewsbury Diocese and the Heart of St John Vianney

Readers may be interested to read the full schedule of the forthcoming visit of the relic of St John Vianney, the Curé d’Ars, to the Diocese of Shrewsbury.  Here is the link on the diocesan website.

The visit begins on Thursday 5th July, and the relic returns to Ars on Monday 9th July.

It is interesting to note that during this period the relic is to make two visits beyond the territory of the diocese.  On Friday 6th July it will be at Liverpool's Metropolitan Cathedral, for what is described as "a national day: praying for the renewal of parish life and vocations"; and on the afternoon of Sunday 8th July the general public will be able to venerate the relic at Oscott College, near Birmingham.

I doubt if I'll be able to attend at any of these locations, but I look forward to reading the accounts of those who do.  I think it will be a moving experience, such as I had (to my delighted surprise) when I visited the Oxford Oratory on the occasion of the visit of the relics of St Thérèse of Lisieux in 2009.



Picture from psalm84-4.blogspot.com, via Google Images

Feeling rather conspicuous in this hat …

Since the subject of mantillas is being given an airing at present, by Dr Shaw, Mary O’Regan, and Annie, I thought I might tell you about my own experience.

As I recall from the parish in which I grew up, hats or headscarves were the usual headgear until some time in the 1960s, when mantillas began to appear and gradually took over.

In my present parish, exclusively OF, I can think of just four women who ever cover their heads.  The other women hardly ever appear together at Mass. In fact I am often the only woman in the congregation with a headcovering. Ah, the qualms when I am getting ready to go to Mass; the diffidence; the embarrassment! I am probably being unnecessarily self-conscious about it; if I am noticed at all, the response is probably one of live and let live. But in my more paranoid moments I feel as if I have entered a Most Eccentric Parishioner competition, in which I am the only competitor. And I lose.

It doesn’t really help that I look a bit of a so-and-so in a hat. My appearance is something halfway between the above, and this:

I think a mantilla would be a step too outrageous at present. I keep the mantilla for when I am away from home, where no one knows me. I see mantillas, scarves etc aplenty at such times. Of course, it may be that all those women have, like me, travelled some distance to throw off the shackles of post-Vatican II convention in an anonymous environment.

As I have persevered in wearing my hat to Mass, an interesting little niggle has established itself in my head. I am now very reluctant to go into a Catholic church with my head uncovered. This is not in any way a judgment on the majority of women who do not cover their heads. Perish the thought! But I have started to experience, when I am getting ready to go to Mass, an argument going on inside me. First, I quail at the thought of being Mrs Hat; and then I examine my motives, whether for going without, or for covering my head.

The going-without case seems to rest entirely on embarrassment, of the fear (never yet realised) of adverse comments; in short, of the old temptation to Human Respect – not, of course, in the natural and kindly sense, but in the technical, moral sense. The case for covering my head is really a very private and personal one, however visible the effect: for me, it’s not really about the words of St Paul, although I am aware of them; it’s more about an act of fellowship with women throughout the history of the Church; and most of all and most immediately, it springs from a feeling that I ought to do it, and accept the embarrassment, as a little work of humility and of love for the Lord.  In other words, it's about Him, not about me.

Last Sunday I had another of my quailing moments. I thought, oh, I don’t want to look like the odd one out; and I didn’t put my hat on. When I went into the living-room to say I was about to set off, my husband said: “Oh, where’s your little hat?” Out of the mouths of husbands … they were the salutary words I needed: I went to the bedroom and put my hat on, and I hope to abide by that rather touching little reminder on every future occasion.




Photos via Google Images: Hetty from uk.ebid.net; Hyacinth from bookcrossing.com

A Grand Day Out

It has taken me a couple of days to recover from a tiring but tremendously worthwhile day out in London. The occasion was the Latin Mass Society’s first one-day conference, and oh boy, it certainly stretched the mind and gladdened the heart.

We had five excellent speakers: Dr John Rao of The Roman Forum; Mr Stuart McCullough of The Good Counsel Network; Fr John Zuhlsdorf of What does the Prayer Really Say?; Fr Tim Finigan, parish priest and author of the blog The Hermeneutic of Continuity; and soon-to-be-Father Hunwicke of the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham, author of the blog Fr Hunwickes’s Liturgical Notes, which he began during his years in the Church of England. The day closed with a panel discussion; sadly, I missed it, because I had to go for my train.

Dr Joseph Shaw, the LMS Chairman, has posted an MP3 link to Dr Rao’s talk on his LMS Chairman's Blog.  He plans to do the same with the other speakers’ talks as soon as he can.

Among those manning the information stalls were members of three traditional congregations: the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, who have recently begun their apostolate at the church of SS Peter and Paul and St Philomena, in New Brighton, at the tip of the Wirral peninsula; the Priestly Fraternity of St Peter, who are based in various places, but the nearest to where I live is, I think, Reading; and, from faraway Papa Stronsay in the Orkney Islands, the Sons of the Most Holy Redeemer.

There was a delightfully friendly atmosphere throughout the day, and a great deal of animated conversation. I’m very glad to have been able to attend. I understand that quite a few of the Big Beasts of the Catholic blogosphere were there; no doubt they will be posting their own accounts of the day, which I look forward to reading.

I don't think I've ever created so many links before.

The Government's consultation on changing the scope of marriage: searching for the right words

May I begin by recommending to you a fine post by The Reluctant Sinner, entitled "We shouldn't blame homosexual activists for wanting to get 'married' - The real purpose of marriage was probably destroyed before the decriminalisation of homosexuality".

Those of us who have signed the Coalition for Marriage’s petition to keep the classical definition and scope of marriage, are being encouraged to go a step further by adding their contribution to the consultation document.

It’s much easier to sign a petition than to express one’s views in so many words. I was reluctant at first, because it always takes me such a long time to gather my thoughts into shape. But at last I have managed to compose something and send it.

C4M provides a selection of suitable texts, which you can use or adapt, or you can write it in your own words. I incorporated one or two phrases in my own statement.

It’s very hard to argue these things without relying solely on assertions. But then, our Prime Minister is very fond of uttering that great unproveable assertion: “It’s the right thing to do.” I hope the assertions I have made are at least reasonable. This is my effort - tweaked a bit here and there, because I am never satisfied:

There is no distinction in our country's law between civil and religious marriage. It is simply marriage. Any reference to these two things as distinct legal realities is false and misleading.

Marriage, which predates the state and any organised religion, has an intrinsic nature. No one, including the state, has the competence to redefine it in order to extend it beyond its natural meaning.

The unalterable core of its nature is the exchange, by a man and woman, of the right to share with one another the procreative act. (This does not depend on the couple's fertility, but on their being capable of the act.) Since only a man and a woman are physically capable of this, any attempt by the law to extend marriage to persons of the same sex would be void.

At the conclusion of any such attempted marriage ceremony, even if permitted by the law of the land, the parties concerned would remain as they were; whatever that law decreed, they would not in reality be married.

"The unalterable core of its nature is the exchange, by a man and woman, of the right to share with one another the procreative act." It was when I was composing this sentence, that the enormity of the Government's latest proposal - to remove the requirement for the consummation of marriage, in order to accommodate same-sex partners - was brought home to me most forcefully. They think they can remove the very core of marriage; but it can't be done. Details can be found in the Reverend Nick Donnelly's blog, Protect the Pope.

Please feel free to lift anything from this for your own contribution if you would find it useful. I wish I could have said it more concisely, but I have said pretty much what I wanted to say. They probably won’t read it anyway; still, it’s the effort that counts. I think the important thing is to contribute to the total number of those responding.

As the same Prime Minister and his Chancellor like to say, “We’re all in this together.”

A priest rejoices at the view beyond Vatican II

I was struck by this poignant and rather exhilarating comment from an anonymous priest, in response to a Rorate Caeli post:

For many years now priests and others have attempted always to prove their Church "street cred" by referring back to the documents of the Council, as if someone is looking over their shoulder at all times and requiring that they do so to prove their loyalty to the "company program". I have never felt so free as a priest now that I no longer use the Council as a wall in the past [,] the immense and beckoning vista beyond which I cannot see.

"I have never felt so free."  The writer is probably describing the experience of quite a number of priests, whose eyes are now being opened to the Church's great wealth of spiritual treasure.

An attractive proposition?

The Holy See Press Office's communique* on the subject of the Society of St Pius X concludes as follows:

“Regarding the positions taken by the other three bishops of the Society of St. Pius X, their situations will have to be dealt with separately and singularly.”

How can it be otherwise? Perhaps the broadcast of the exchange of letters in the public domain was intended as a spoiler by a person or persons in the SSPX, as some have suggested. Whether it was or not, the fact that we all know about it is probably irrelevant. If the exchange had not been leaked, I cannot imagine that Bishop Fellay would have withheld from the CDF his fellow-bishops’ disagreement with important aspects of the reconciliation process.

I have only read Bishop Fellay’s reply to their letter, but its contents are enough to indicate that if the views he laments remain the same, it will surely not be exclusively up to those three whether they, as individuals, return to indisputable and visible unity in the Church. It will be for Rome to decide whether she regards them as an attractive proposition. They seem to be very different characters. All the more reason, then, for the CDF and indeed the Holy Father to weigh them very carefully, “separately and singularly”.

 
*Link:  http://www.vis.va/vissolr/index.php?vi=all&dl=5eb79266-fc2a-d4b5-5855-4fb39d6467dc&dl_t=text/xml&dl_a=y&ul=1&ev=1

Gathering us in, soul by soul

This SSPX business is constantly in my mind at present, whether at the surface or just beneath it. The Holy Father has shown himself capable of taking astonishing initiatives, going beyond what was imagined: for example, in enabling the establishment of Anglican-use Ordinariates. I hope it may be so in this case.

If a split occurs in the wake of any proposal, it will not be neat, but messy. It will be rather like a bloodless version of the partition of a country, with people fleeing in one direction colliding with others who are fleeing in the opposite direction. We cannot know at this stage how many of each type there will be. I think there will be a good deal of pain.

Our dear Pope Benedict has a great ambition, it seems: to gather us in, as many of us as possible, of all spiritual shapes and sizes and colours, as long as we have a Catholic heart and Catholic faith; to ensure that we of the wild olive shoot are all securely grafted into the true olive where the Good Lord intended us to be. This, I think, is meant to include, quietly but most ambitiously of all, the branches which really belong to the olive but were once, long ago, broken off*. Institutions and groups are one thing, and important; but I believe that in the last resort we are meant to be gathered in as individuals, soul by soul.


* Romans 11: 17-24

Looking for H

Brilliant news: the author of that most erudite blog, Fr Hunwicke’s Liturgical Notes, is to be ordained deacon on 26th May. Like many of those who commented on Fr Ray Blake’s post, as soon as I saw the item from the Ordinariate, I looked most particularly for his name on the list.

May he, and all his brethren who are the latest candidates for ordination to the Catholic priesthood in the Ordinariate, be blessed with many joys. May they bear – indeed, continue to bear – wonderful fruit.

English Pensioner Frisked at Rome Airport

Intro: This new Blogger format is confusing me. I can't get it to accept paragraph breaks. I apologise for the unbroken block of text that follows. I will try to fathom it out for next time. We have just returned from a holiday in Rome. Not a pilgrimage, more of a general exploration of the city, and we enjoyed it very much. We stayed near the Vatican, and on the day of the weekly General Audience we walked over to St Peter’s Square at about the time when the Holy Father was due to appear. We watched at the back of the square while he was doing his tour of the passageways between the blocks of seating. He was only a small figure in the distance, but we probably had a better view of him than if we had been in the audience and surrounded by a forest of people standing on their chairs. It was fascinating to see this little figure dressed in white, visible only from the waist up, buzzing along quite quickly from right to left, then disappearing for a few seconds at the side, then suddenly reappearing and motoring along equally briskly from left to right. He sawed back and forth until everyone had had at least the theoretical opportunity of seeing him. That was our only sighting of him during the holiday. On the Sunday we could not get into St Peter’s basilica, and had to be satisfied with participating in the Mass from the square. It was an ordination Mass, as on our last visit three years ago, but on that earlier occasion we had been able to go inside. Rome seemed much more crowded this time. Considering the world’s economic woes we had expected the place to be a good deal quieter. Our plan for the holiday was to look at some of Rome’s buildings, and generally to get the feel of the landscape of the city. I now feel a lot more confident about exploring it on foot. For me there was also a personal, religious dimension to our visit. Other Catholic bloggers have written far more knowledgeably and effectively than I could have done, on the recent intensification of the effort to re-establish the Society of St Pius X clearly and visibly within the Church. I made a private commitment to stop at any churches or basilicas we visited or passed, to say a heartfelt prayer for the intention of this major restoration. In fact we passed hardly any churches – at least, open ones – during the course of our wanderings. Sant’Agnese in Agone; Santa Maria Maggiore; San Paolo fuori le Mura; and there may have been one or two others. I think this was the first time I had ever prayed to St Paul. We both liked his basilica very much; lovely in itself, and set behind a charming courtyard garden; green and tranquil in its remoteness from the bustle of the centre. EasyJet used to fly to and from Ciampino, which we now think of nostalgically as a friendly little airport compared with the exhausting maze of Fiumicino. This was our first experience of it, and we will have to steel ourselves if we ever go there again. Our experience of the security area felt rather frantic: I think we used three or four trays, because they kept being whisked away on the conveyor belt before we could sort ourselves out with watches and mobile phones and jackets and so on. Talking of steeling ourselves: Dear Husband has metal implants, which always set the alarm off. In addition, since our last flight I have acquired some metal screws in one of my feet. I had already looked up the Italian for screws, and warned the security man about them, but he looked at me blankly. My appalling accent? A likely story? I will never know. I went through the frame, and off went the alarm. A young female security officer stood in front of me, with her arms held out wide, and her hands encased – worryingly – in latex gloves. Having become rather confused by then, I assumed at first she was directing me onward, and went to step to the side of her; but she very politely forestalled me, and waggled her hands, at which I got the message. I stood there very calmly while she did the patting-down routine. Could have been worse. On reflection, I think she must have had a quota of certain more or less shifty types to frisk; I suppose I came into the category of “Deceptively harmless-looking old Englishwoman who is Probably Not What She Seems”. Dear Husband said afterwards that our progress through Security reminded him of the fugitive Mel Brooks and Madeline Kahn in the film High Anxiety, pretending to be an elderly Jewish couple going through airport security very, very noisily, on the reasonable ground that the most effective disguise is to be as flamboyant as possible. We’re not really terrorists. I thought I’d better say that.

A Sword for the Heart of St Joseph

The sword spoken of by the prophet Simeon, on the occasion of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple – the sword that was to pierce the heart of Mary – was surely not the only sword. St Joseph was also to receive a blow to his heart; but unlike Our Lady’s, his sword is not referred to specifically.

St Luke provides us with the dramatic account of the disappearance of the twelve-year-old Jesus, at the end of His family’s pilgrimage to Jerusalem. His distressed parents, after three days of searching, discover Him in the Temple, among the teachers, who are astounded at His understanding.

Mary: “Son, why have You treated us so? Behold, Your father and I have been looking for You anxiously” Or, to use another translation, which I think has more impact, “Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.”

Jesus: “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father’s house?” Or, as I recall from another version. “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

There are a few things I’d like to consider in this exchange. Firstly, it gives a strong impression that Mary and Joseph had not told Jesus about the uniqueness of His origin. Jesus seems to have been raised as an ordinary child of ordinary parents, being brought up to love Joseph in the most natural way, as His father. They gave everything else into the hands of the Lord, to reveal in His own good time.

After three days of desperate worry, having lost not only their beloved son but the precious child entrusted to them by God, Mary and Joseph find Him in the most unexpected of places: among the doctors of the Law. Not only this, but discussing holy matters with them, and, to cap it all, more than holding His own, and amazing these learned men with the breadth and depth of His knowledge.

Our Blessed Lady, in her understandable distress, speaks to Jesus of her bewilderment that He should have done such a thing to her and to St Joseph. How could He cause such sorrow to His mother, and to His father?

Here I am going to make what may appear to be a slight digression. I understand that some scholars of the New Testament take the view that Jesus did not know Who He was: at least, before this or that point in His life. I’m no scholar of the Scriptures, merely a reader, but this doesn't ring true to me. I have the impression that while there are certainly passages in which - to use the best expression I can think of - He seems to hold a veil between His earthly mind and His divine consciousness, there are many others in which Our Lord Jesus speaks as though He clearly knows exactly Who He is. I feel sure that the incident of the finding in the Temple is the first recorded manifestation of Jesus’s knowledge of Himself; a manifestation which must have come as a jolt to Mary and Joseph.

“Thy father and I have sought Thee, sorrowing.” “I must be about My Father’s business.” This from a twelve-year-old boy, whose distraught parents have just found him after three frantic days of searching. I think this must have pierced their hearts; and on this occasion most poignantly the loving heart of Joseph, who was the best of earthly fathers to Him, and would continue to be so.



Picture from catholicsource.net, via Google Images

Father Hunwicke on Councils and The Council

Father* Hunwicke has re-published his series of blog posts from 2011 on the significance of Vatican II, with reference to earlier Church Councils. They are a splendid read.

*John Hunwicke lives at present as a lay member of the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham. I intend to continue referring to him as Father, as a personal honorific, in acknowledgment of his many years of ministry in the Church of England.

“The Council” 1
Councils (2)
Councils (3)
Councils (4)

Passing on a Meme from Mulier Fortis

Ttony of The Muniment Room has tagged me for Mulier Fortis’s "meme" about books to put on Kindle. I don’t have a Kindle, but our house is groaning with real books. I imagine some of the books I would recommend aren’t available in Kindle editions, but here is my attempt at a Fantasy Kindle list. I’ve kept to fiction, and a balance of heavy-ish and light.

C S Lewis: That Hideous Strength. A near-futurist novel about totalitarianism in post-World War Two Britain, the sinister powers behind it, and the small group of people who are drawn into the battle against them.

R H Benson: Lord of the World. This is a fascinating mixture of a novel. I love its Edwardian futuristic imagination, especially the author’s descriptions of flight. There is one such passage, set in the Alps, which is tremendous. An interesting feature is the things Benson assumed would still be in place: the glory of the Church’s worship; the royal houses of Europe; Palestine as a peaceful, forgotten backwater. Some of the scenes, in particular those involving the main female character, are very powerful and moving. All this, wrapped up in an old-fashioned Ripping Yarn.

Finally, as a busman’s holiday for a busy teacher, Miss Read’s Chronicles of Fairacre, comprising her first three Fairacre novels: Village School, Village Diary, and Storm in the Village. A pleasant escape into the rural world of the 1950s.

I think I’ll tag The Reluctant Sinner, Pastor Emeritus, and Fr Henry of Offerimus Tibi Domine.

Apparently I have to include Mulier Fortis's rules, which are:

"You post the rules and a link back to the person who tagged you.
You also tell them that they've been tagged on their own blog, rather than just hoping they'll discover it for themselves.
Then you decide what three books are essential reading for anyone with a Kindle. Reasons would be good, but not essential.
Then you tag five people."

However, I’m sure I have already broken them, and in any case I am finding them a bit complicated for my non-technical brain.

A few more thoughts about the Catholic card

My post on 5th February about the new “I am a Catholic” card had a welcome visitor in the comments box. He is Mr Brian McMahon, who is a candidate in training for the permanent diaconate in the Archdiocese of Westminster. He has an interesting blog, Cursor Mundi, which I cordially invite my readers to visit.

I confined myself to thanking Mr McMahon for his comment, because I thought I would need some time to reflect on it. He makes a number of points, in a very friendly spirit. His comment is, I would guess, a pretty accurate rendering of what was probably in the Bishops’ minds when they were working on this project. I’d now like to add some reflections to what he has written.

The wheel has been invented, and well done to whoever invented it. But if it doesn’t work, it needs modification. The card looks very attractive; but its list of faith-statements strikes me as weak, and in one instance - "Celebrate the sacraments regularly" - inaccurate. Inaccurate in rather a complex way: it seems like a stringing-together of words at a brainstorming session, which when joined together become incorrect and even meaningless.

I believe the text of the card matters, because the substance of words matters, in the sense of their weight and meaning. In such a small space every word should count, in terms of attracting the reader - including the young reader - to Christ, His Church and the sure path to eternal life She offers.

However simply expressed, the message surely has to be both theological and catechetical, albeit in concentrated form. Teaching about God, giving a reason for the hope that is in us, as Catholic Christians, should be at the heart of it. I don’t think the Bishops’ card has achieved this. I hope they will treat this production as Mark I, and not as the last word in this very good initiative.

You will by now have gathered, Mr McMahon, that your contribution has provided me with valuable encouragement to further thought on this subject. God bless you in your studies, and in your future ministry.

Ttony on the National Pastoral Congress of 1980

After a break from blogging, Ttony of The Muniment Room has stormed back with this tremendous account of the National Pastoral Congress, which was held in Liverpool in 1980. He writes about its preparation, its chief players, and its consequences for the Catholic Church in England and Wales. If you did not know about this before, it will help you to understand why we are where we are.

HOW DID WE GET HERE

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 and final

How Did We Get Here (Sources)

The "I am a Catholic" card

I’ve been having quite a bit of fun (frivolous word! but I hope you will indulge me) with this idea of the “I am a Catholic” card, which was the subject of my post on 3rd February. It’s really commendable that the Bishops of England and Wales have embarked on this initiative. The Catholic Herald has the details, and the wording, which, for convenience, I have transcribed here:

As a Catholic, I,
[insert your name]
am called to:
Share with others the joy of knowing Jesus Christ
Pray
Celebrate the sacraments regularly
Love my neighbour as myself
Use the gifts that I’ve been given wisely
Forgive as I have been forgiven

In the event of an emergency please contact a Catholic priest.

According to the Herald, the other side “has a quote from Blessed John Henry Newman, focusing on the call to serve and affirming that everyone has a mission.”

A few commenters thought that the wording could have been better chosen. David suggested that others might like to produce their own versions, in no more than 50 words or so, and encouraged parishes, groups, and individuals, to do this. “The more the merrier,” said ms Catholic state; and I think that’s a very good idea.

The Bishops’ version is a valiant start. More could be done, though, to utilise every scrap of the space - that of a credit card - to maximum effect. This would give them more scope for composing short, pithy statements of what it means, specifically, to be a Christian of the Catholic Church, rather than, say, a broad-Church Anglican or other Christian. In addition, we need to take account of the important point made by the commenter Andrea Hyde, that some Protestant Christians have the strange idea that Catholics are not Christians.

Here are some provisional ideas for my personal “I am a Catholic” card.
The size of a credit card is only 8.5cm by 5.3cm, less a small margin all round; therefore everything that is not essential must be excluded.
Both sides should make an impact.
Personally, I would not use one side for the Newman quotation. Instead, I would devote that side to something like the following, in large bold lettering:

This could be accompanied by a small picture of a crucifix in one corner.

The other side would then be fully available for the most concise essential statement of what it means to be a Catholic.
Apart from the small crucifix on the “I am a Catholic” side, there should be no other illustrations; they take up valuable space.

David’s idea of about 50 words has gone out of the window, even if I don’t count the headings; but I have managed to fit onto one side what I hope are the basic things one would want to say to an enquirer.
Anything I have omitted (mistakes excepted) is, I hope, implicit in what is included.
I hope these short statements are intriguing enough to prompt the reader to say “What does this mean?” or “But what about…?” and so to lead that person to learn more.
This is a tall order. But my first thoughts are along these lines:

As Catholics, we believe in
- One God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit
- Jesus Christ, our Saviour
- The Catholic Church, founded by Him to guide us
We are called to
- Love God completely
- Be good to all
- Live a moral life
- Turn from sin, and ask God’s forgiveness
We are drawn close to God
- In the Holy Mass and Sacraments
- When we pray
- When we read the Bible
And when this life is ended
- We hope for happiness with God forever.

I've run through the Creed, and looked at the chapter headings in my Penny Catechism; and I hope I've included everything that absolutely had to be included. I hope that it also sounds attractive.


Picture from telegraph.co.uk, via Google Images

I AM A CATHOLIC.

If I am injured or taken ill,
please contact a Catholic priest.

The Olive-Tree Baptismal Font

There have been some reports and comments in the Catholic blogosphere about the new olive-tree baptismal font in the Sistine chapel. I haven't read all of them, but those I have seen were not at all keen.



Like others, I was concerned at the thought of a dear little chubby arm being stabbed by one of those alarmingly prickly-looking leaves. The design does however make the foliage lower at the front, in fact below the rim of the font, which reduces the risk somewhat.

I rather like the design. It's certainly modern, but it is a realistic representation of the natural appearance of an olive tree.

More importantly, it recalls - deliberately, I suppose - the olive tree to which St Paul refers in his Letter to the Romans. I published a post in June 2010, on the subject of the olive, in the so-called prophecies of St Malachy, and in the Holy Father's words at Ben Gurion Airport at the end of his visit to Israel in May 2009. With this new font, Pope Benedict appears to be emphasising the idea of Baptism as our grafting into the olive tree, which also awaits, in God's good time, the grafting back of its natural branches.



Pictures via Google Images, from (1) inigohicks.blogspot.com and (2) traddyiniowa.blogspot.com - neither of whom liked the new font.

The Catholic Faith as a Mini-Saga

From a comment by David under a Catholic Herald article: “Bishops to distribute cards to Catholics declaring their faith”:

These cards are a good idea. The wording is rubbish! So what's to stop a parish producing its own -similar in size and layout, but with better wording? Bearing in mind the constraints of space on a credit-card sized space, Let's have a competition on here for the best wording - leaving the top and tail alone I reckon that's about 50 words. The Catholic Faith in 50 words - now there's a challenge ..

... to which Ms Catholic state adds:

I totally agree with your last point that parishes...and in my mind individuals too....can produce and distribute cards and leaflets according to their consciences.....and distribute them where they will. The more the merrier .

Some years ago, the Daily Telegraph held a mini-saga competition. A mini-saga was a complete story, told in just 50 words. I think extra words were allowed for the title. Some of the entries were very clever. I had a go at one or two stories; not to send in, because they weren’t very good; but it was challenging and satisfying to do them. If you have ever tried writing a sonnet, your experience has probably been quite similar. The mini-saga is a sort of equivalent in prose. It forces you to pare everything down until what remains is pure, concise and essential.

I think I may try my hand at this 50-word statement of faith; but it will probably be far more difficult than it looks. Please don't expect to see the results on this blog; I'd be far too embarrassed!


Picture from bbc.co.uk via Google Images