I didn’t go out in my boat today, and I talk of “sails” in a metaphorical way – though of course nothing would have given me greater pleasure on a lovely warm September afternoon, anticyclone conditions and a gentle wind from the north-east. I talk of the sails of my own spiritual life

I read a comment from someone who seemed to express himself with some understanding and courtesy. Those are characteristics I greatly appreciate even from someone who seeks to help correct my defects and unworthiness. What I cannot understand are the kind of criticisms I have discussed over the past day. I wrote and deleted an article which I finally decided would cause more harm than good.

You sup with the Devil with a very long spoon!

The comment said “I have sensed an ebbing away of Fr Chadwick’s faith in many of his posts, which is saddening“. That is not entirely wrong, but what is ebbing away is more my confidence in churches. As Nietzsche found, church people are no more redeemed than anyone else. If Christ has done anything for any of us, it is in spite of that spiritual prison run by men who are no more virtuous than politicians. Atheism does not tempt me any more than materialism, the idea that we are just biological machines and once we’re dead, that’s it. There is something alive in the sea, the trees, the good and beautiful things of life – and I have a great sympathy with a philosophy of life that resembles some aspects of Buddhism to an extent. I love reading about Christ and what he taught in the Gospels, and what seems to have disappeared today as much in churches as in secular life. Bishops and priests seem to care no more for their clients than bank managers and magistrates applying the law.

I see “Terry” has just added another spoonful. He is wrong in many of his facts, but he exposes and screeches to the world my screwed-up life and my regrets. I say it over and over again – I should have joined the Merchant Navy as a lad and worked my way up through the ranks. I dreamt of the sea as a boy – that is where God is, in the seething waves and the lashing wind. The Greeks called him Poseidon although they believed also in other gods for other things and aspects of life. The Red Indians lived with the spirits of nature and their deceased kin. God is a loving creator, even of strength that can kill men in the blink of an eye. Everything is alive

So our friend “Terry” sneers, ramps and rages. Supposedly, I became bitter because I didn’t get a position of authority in a “corporately-united” TAC under Archbishop Hepworth. I find it puzzling that I called myself Monsignor. He obviously knows me better than I know myself. I hate to disappoint him, but I am not wearing purple garb, just a tee shirt, a pair of Bermuda shorts and a pair of flip-flops. I last wore my battered black cassock and collar last March for a meeting of clergy in Nottinghamshire!

He probably knows I was consecrated an episcopus vagans, a bishop without a church. That was until I joined the TAC in 2005 when I considered it a matter of course that I put aside the episcopate and continue as a simple priest. Perhaps I have not sufficiently paid for such foolishness! But since I joined the TAC and to this day, I am a simple priest and have tried to live it honestly. Perhaps that is no longer possible.

Supposedly I “lost face” and was made to look a fool and that went against my “pride and arrogance”. He couldn’t realise how little I care about these things, and the fact that if “Terry” ‘ s kind of religion is the true one, then I will be the first member of what Oscar Wilde called the church of the unfaithful. I don’t know who “Terry” is. Some research indicated that he is of English origin and lives in Japan and works in a bank. He is probably a rich family man with a big powerful car, and one who makes sure everyone gets out of the way when he hoots his horn and tailgates. I certainly wouldn’t open an account with him! Strength is holiness and weakness is sin, and adversity is its punishment. Wonderful!

The only thing that gives me reassurance is that I have absolutely no desire to do evil, get vengeance, get even, render evil for evil. I am just flat out. All I can do is wait, perhaps another couple of months, and try to make a decision according to the best rules of discernment – above all never making a decision when one is upset. And I am upset right now.

* * *

Perhaps he is right, but then I would prefer not to be a Christian, but rather cast off the moorings and pray for something to give me a sense of wonder and ineffable beauty. I am prepared for a hard life of self-denial and a quest for redemption through all the suffering that comes my way. This is what I meant when I expressed the intolerable idea that one could be more Christian outside churches.

Have I lost my faith? I honestly don’t know. All I know is that I am not an atheist. The demon would shriek out to all and sundry that I have thrown the toys out of the pram in an infantile tantrum. No, it is all profoundly depressed me and there will be no more relief from churches than from psychiatrists.

However, God doesn’t work in a vacuum and there is a whole theology of the icon, not just beautiful pictures painted on wood by Greek and Russian monks, but God is shown in the beauty of nature and the souls of kind people. I received an e-mail from such a person this evening:

I would like to begin this mail by expressing my deep appreciation of your blogs. I have enjoyed your posts, your thought provoking remarks and, above all, your ability to think outside the box. What we really need in this day and age is unconventional new ways of living our faith, a radical approach in line with the teachings of our Lord.

He went on to say how he had once been a member of a Protestant church and became a Roman Catholic in reaction to liberalism. He is now lapsed and expressed a complete aversion to discussing the church he joined. The rising of the “ghouls”, “trolls”, “demons” or those who claim to be virtuous Christians and are dispensed from any compassion, kindness or even courtesy – has profoundly scandalised him. Their “truth” allows them to do things forbidden to others such as detraction and calumny.

If I ever again find anything like fervent devotion, I think it will be when I am far from the Internet. Perhaps I should become Orthodox, stay a layman and go to Liturgy once a month in Paris. Would that be the right thing? They don’t have “Sunday obligation” – just a generous invitation to taste of beautiful and merciful things. I believe that Bishop Flemestad of the Nordic Catholic Church is thinking about projects here and there, whilst keeping discreet about details until conditions are settled. I would like to refind my naive faith and be persevering to what seems to be my vocation given my priestly character – unless it is invalid, and then we can just pack up and go home!

I am not interested in continuing to be a priest for the sake of being a cleric, a Monsignor or anything really. A priest offers Mass with or without a congregation, depending on whether he has a pastoral charge or is consecrated to the monastic life. It is all about the sacramental and Eucharistic Christ and life offered to the sick and unworthy. The bankers and magistrates of this world would take all that away and have us pay their prices for what Christ gave free of charge. The price can be in different currencies – pieces of silver or a broken heart.

I have always felt duty-bound, as one having received a priestly character, to persevere and put it to noble use, namely the worship of God through the Mass and the Office. Perhaps I should solidarise with the immense majority of humanity in this country who are far from churches: some resort to materialism, that is until the money runs out, and others continue to seek and live a life governed by compassion, kindness and a quest for spiritual life in some way. I find more spirituality among rough English Channel (or French Manche) fishermen than most people in churches or on the Internet!

Father, you seem to be in a vulnerable position right now.

Exactly, and in many ways that I will not discuss. I made the mistake of trying to take on the ghouls, in spite of the warnings of exorcists like the late Fr Malachy Martin wrote in his books. The evil spirits take advantage of every weakness and they always get their own back for any victory. An exorcist loses a part of his soul and often dies in great suffering and ignominy. The servant is not greater than his master. Good sense would tell me not to feed the trolls and be emotionally detached. I have been unable to.

The best thing is just leave everything as it is and just go away. The good person who wrote to me suggested I could get in touch by Skype. I’ll take him up on it. I certainly need to see someone who sees life and the world in a way most of us cannot, but most of those claiming to have special gifts are in reality charlatans who just make money out of other people’s suffering. But the Real McCoy exists somewhere. I’ll get advice.

I look forward to my next time out on the sea. Thursday promises good weather and moderate winds and I don’t seem to have too much work. The boat is a great help. Off to Veules with a heart dancing like the sea!

So, in the end, what’s the point of all this? Self-pity? I am beyond self-pity. I protest against the corruption of the beauty of Christ’s message by exactly the things poets and prophets have denounced right from the beginning. All that is left of Christ now is a forgotten and caricatured written message and an increasingly rare Sacrament of his presence. The way of Christ is overgrown, not by rites and traditions, but by the very line of parasites who made heaven into hell, crucified the Saviour and made the Church into a den of thieves to this very day.

I have certainly converged with a correspondent who lives in southern England and has a blog, and is a keen reader of Tolkien. He is a lot younger than I and often intemperate in his expression, but he is profoundly scandalised by men of the Church who think they are dispensed from the things they impose on others. Nothing new! One thing I admire about this young friend is his love of myth, symbolism, beauty and wonder – and as such he has not lost faith or the knowledge of God. That brings hope for the silent majority.

The point is that I will occasionally write articles in an academic vein, unemotional and detached. The stuff that attracts the flies is no longer my business and I must eschew it for my own mental and spiritual health. As an epitaph of this subject, it all continues on Fr Smuts’ blog, and he is a man made of tougher stuff than I… He will need to be!