The Rite of Spring

Fr Jonathan Munn has just written Springing into the English Lent or Lenting into the English Spring?

I don’t think we need to be too hard on the old Pagan feasts, since I often mention the “two Old Testaments” – that of the Jewish people and that of the rest of our ancestors. Both announced, through signs and symbols, the Advent of Jesus Christ and the Universal Church. But I think Fr Jonathan is “up to speed” on this point.

Nature itself is a sign of the Resurrection, which is already present in Lent. In the Use of Sarum, we have the Transfiguration Gospel on Ember Saturday (the Roman rite has it on the second Sunday of Lent). The glory is already there and we are shown what we are preparing for.

Indeed, though I am just over the Channel, in a part of the world that gave us English much of our culture, I miss many of the traces of pre-Reformation Anglicanism. He has some rather beautiful ideas about Lent. If it were meant to be torture, I would suggest as a penance living in a concrete city listening to modern noise and bustle and communicating only by mobile phone, Twitter and Facebook! For me that would be like a stint in Supermax Prison in America! Lent is not about punishment or torture, but about finding the essential by shutting out the maelstrom and the noise.

Lent is about finding God and ourselves through silence – inner silence, the silence of harmony. We do well to spend time in nature, away from towns and modern life. There is also human art and music, and Lent can be a time of honing our finer senses. It’s a most thought-provoking article and another look at this season – which some find interminable! The French say aussi lent que le Carême – as slow as Lent! For me, Lent is a time to treasure and take day by day. There is a Ferial Mass for each day during Lent when there isn’t a nine-lesson feast, and each Epistle and Gospel guide us through the stages of becoming as interior as we are exterior before we come to meditate on the horrors of human evil.

This year, we are invited to commemorate the beginning of World War I and what was effectively the end of World War II in much of Europe. As I have written in other articles, they were humanly the end of our civilisation – and we are either facing the end or a transition to something new. Perhaps this waiting is at the same time an Advent and a Lent. Last night, I watched the film Massacre in Rome, made in 1973 with Richard Burton as SS Obersturmbannführer Herbert Kappler. There are only two ways to react: deny God and sink into nihilism and despair – or seek to transcend the evil and allow Christ to conquer death. These are the themes we will follow as we reach Passiontide.

Treasure each day of this Lent. It goes too quickly!

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Mankind Returns to Childhood

In my search for comparisons between Romanticism and Post-modernism, at least in terms of philosophy, I discovered this frightening article The Death of Postmodernism And Beyond.

Alan Kirby says postmodernism is dead and buried. In its place comes a new paradigm of authority and knowledge formed under the pressure of new technologies and contemporary social forces.

It is something I suspect as we become increasingly depend on hand-held electronic devices.

With our saturation in floods of information and our decreasing consciousness as we use these machines, we seem to be playing with toys, surrendering our humanity for which Romanticism and Post-modernism fought. The ingredients are there for the fulfilment of Orwell’s Big Brother prophecy.

Can anyone be reassuring, or can you only confirm these fears of someone who could only say that he is glad to be a good way through his lifespan?

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Mal du Siècle

I often ask myself why people around us often seem sad and bored, especially young people, and especially in Europe. One thing I have discovered when reading about Romanticism is how similar many aspects of our time are to the beginning of the nineteenth century. The Romantics denounced the same things as we do today: the dark satanic mills and extreme financial difficulties of countless people, victims of pitiless capitalist economics. The years following the French Revolution were also a period of materialism and spiritual emptiness. In the upper classes, a certain spiritual ailment reigned. It was called in French the Mal du Siècle, inability to live in one’s time. It was a kind of boredom and melancholy, something between acedia and clinical depression.

Victor Hugo described it in Les Travailleurs de la Mer – “La mélancolie est un crépuscule. La souffrance s’y fond dans une sombre joie. La mélancolie, c’est le bonheur d’être triste. Melancholy is a sunset. Suffer melts into dark joy. Melancholy is the happiness of being sad.

We often find this sadness among the artists and writers of those days when Napoleon’s France and George III’s England were still at war, when the map of Europe was being redrawn. The individual feels unable to relate to society and revolts against a political system that crushes the artist. We feel a feeling that there is no past and no future. Alfred de Musset wrote On ne sait, à chaque pas que l’on fait, si l’on marche sur une semence ou sur un débris. Each time we take a step, we don’t know whether we are treading on a seed or debris. It is surprising to find as much in the way of nihilism in those days as now among our post-modern young people. We can hardly mention Musset without also bringing up Chateaubriand’s René.We find many of the same themes in Delius’ opera Fennimore and Gerda.

We doubtless find the same spiritual emptiness and apathy to beauty as in those days two hundred years ago. The parallels are the same between the rationalism of the eighteenth century and our own atheism, the industrial revolution to the development of the same thing today.

Two hundred years ago, it was the period of Romanticism, when some reacted through moroseness and others through art and beauty. It was a sort of “counter-enlightenment”. I am sceptical about “counter” movement as with the Counter Reformation (and the Reformation). Apart from the moroseness of some, I see a great amount of energy and unity in a movement of extremely diverse personalities over a long time scale. Romanticism is a consequence of the French Revolution, and many of its proponents had a wide range of conservative and progressive views.

We find many inner goals in this movement, namely a Platonic notion of beauty, spiritual freedom and creativity, the ideas in later Russian philosophers like Berdyaev whom I have admired for many years. There is a notion of freeing the heart and emotions from the dictatorship of reason. Romanticism and its era in the early nineteenth century reflect many of the things we think, feel and say today.

There are many popular subcultures evoking ideas of Romanticism, and I see strands of continuity. We should try to live fully in our own times (we cannot live in any other) but with many of the more positive and constructive ideas Romanticism had to offer in its own time. It is a world view with which I sympathise.

To provide lines for comments, I would like to put out several ideas with which some of us might identify:

  • A reaction against the intellectualism of the Enlightenment, against excessively rational theology and thought,
  • A reaction against the rigidity of social structures protecting privilege,
  • A reaction against the materialism of an age which, in the first stirring of the Industrial Revolution, already shows signs of making workers the slaves of machinery and of creating squalid urban environments.
  • A response to emotion and the ‘heart’ more than reason, the desire for mystery rather than clarity of concepts, the primacy of the conscience and the person over social conventions and demands, perhaps underpinning many of the cultural characteristics of the 1960’s.

I also recommend an attentive reading of this article.

They felt that, for human beings, it was our own day-to-day living that was the centre of our search for the truth.  Reason and the evidence of our senses were important, no doubt, but they mean nothing to us unless they touch our needs, our feelings, our emotions.  Only then do they acquire meaning.  This “meaning” is what the Romantic movement is all about.

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Sarum in the Roman Catholic Church

I have just been revising the fascinating article The Legal Status of the Sarum Use in the Catholic Church and the comments that followed it. In embarking on my own attempts to do something, I am eager to see what mistakes have been made in the past.

The Sarum liturgy was used in Merton College Oxford and celebrated by the Roman Catholic priest Fr Sean Finnegan. You can read the article to see how the whole thing was derailed through legalism and petty jealousies. Fr Finnegan inclined to authority and the Sarum masses were stopped. Sarum seems to be one of those cases of a custom which has not been forbidden, but for a Roman Catholic, the canonical status of Sarum is uncertain.

For me, it is clear that Sarum cannot be entrusted to the hierarchical authority of the Roman Catholic Church or the Church of England. It has to be kept out of institutional churches in order for it to flourish in freedom. I am a priest of the Anglican Catholic Church, and conform to its normal liturgical standards (Anglican Missal and 1549 Prayer Book) when serving existing parishes, but take the liberty to engage in initiatives outside the canonical confines of our Church. There are no Anglican Catholics here in France. I go further. Anything that will be successful in reviving Sarum would necessarily be lay and independent from institutional Churches. I will respect this neutrality and put my priesthood to its service.

I have seen so many wonderful inspirations, all nipped in the bud and crushed out of existence. I visited St George’s, Sudbury, a beautiful Arts & Crafts church – which apparently has been gutted. However, Fr Clement Russell did not use Sarum, but the Roman rite with Sarum usages, something like what Fr Montgomery-Wright was doing here in Normandy.

On re-reading this article, I discovered the existence of a Society of Saint Osmund. My own ideas are far from original. The difference with me is that I am not tied to Roman Catholic authority and my continuing Anglican Bishop has no problem with my doing Sarum, just as long as I don’t impose it elsewhere in our Diocese. In the Roman Catholic Church, there is a real problem with custom and legislation in canon law, and custom is just not respected by those authorities. Might is right! I am counting on a small number of people who are prepared to stick their middle finger up at such stuffiness and a very Pharisaic leaven that is choking the life-blood out of what little is left of Catholicism. We are just not interested in Quo primum or Summorum Pontificium. They are not our problem.

Thus is born the Guild of Saint Osmund to which members belong by invitation. Perhaps that sounds stuffy too, but it’s for our protection and neutrality in institutional terms. On this basis it will be possible to organise Sarum liturgies and conferences from next year – when we have had time to organise ourselves and do something of value.

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Refresher on the Holy Week Rites

Last year, I published Holy Week Rites, showing that criticism of post World War II reforms in the Roman rite is more mainstream than some imagine. There are no fewer than forty-one comments on this posting.

We have discussed question of timetables for the Triduum and the perceived pastoral benefits of tampering with the rites according to more or less arbitrary criteria. There is an emotional / spiritual approach to liturgy, that of the laity, and the intellectual approach of “specialists”. I would like to see a balance, and above all a conversation that is intelligible and respectful of persons.

Again, the older I grow, the more I believe in diversity and simply removing the shackles. There may be horrible abuses, as there are now in some places, but the liturgy would self-regulate – as nature does when the harm man does to it is removed. I am inclined myself to “read the black and do the red” – but not in a frightened and neurotic way, just in a sense of filial obedience to the liturgical tradition in all simplicity. We in the ACC (using the Anglican Missal) use the old Holy Week rites, albeit in a spirit of pastoral sensitivity, as I have read in very kind e-mails from my Metropolitan Archbishop in America.

Keep up with the reading and reflecting. A Roman Catholic monk wrote to me asking me, whilst being kind and courteous, why we bother about liturgical forms that are not available. I answered that they may not be on the menu in his Church, but they are in mine and some others. Point taken.

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Orthodox to hold “Ecumenical” Council

HT to Bishop Chandler Holder Jones.

This is one stupendous piece of news I missed! Reuters reported this one on 9th March – Orthodox Churches Will Hold First Ecumenical Council In 1,200 Years In Istanbul. More accurately, this would be a Pan-Orthodox Council, unless the Pope and a representation of Roman Catholic bishops would take part. I remember reading about this possibility on one of Bishop Kallistos Ware’s books in the early 1980’s. They are finally going to do it – in 2016.

The crisis in the Ukraine is high on the agenda, as is the unity between the autocephelous and autonomous Churches that recognise each other as Orthodox. Another point is the lot suffered by middle-eastern Christians under extremist Islamic persecution.

Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew has excellent relations with Pope Francis, but how sympathetic is Moscow to this accommodation? Will the Patriarch of Antioch be involved?

The Council (Constantinople V?) will be held at Hagia Irene,

a Byzantine church building in the outer courtyard of the Ottoman sultans’ Topkapi Palace. Now a museum, it has not been used as a church since the Muslim conquest of Constantinople in 1453.

This is most intriguing. Will it be a “pastoral” Council, a “dogmatic” Council, Orthodoxy’s version of Vatican II and aggiornamento?

Comments and accurate information would be appreciated.

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Growing and Flowing

Update: As I am finding comments to this posting rather sympathetic, I give the link to my men’s long hair forum. Men’s Long Hair Hyperboard. Please see the forum rules and FAQ before posting, and be advised that new contributors are moderated. See especially the Repetitively Asked Questions and the forum’s policy on off-topic posting. There are some very good men on this forum, and there is nothing indecent or explicitly sexual. For those who are genuine, I recommend it.

* * *

I seem to have missed a vital article when I wrote Vestri Capilli Capitis a couple of months ago. This article is one written on Modern Medievalism in 2012, “Scissors or Sword?” Why medieval men might choose death over a haircut. This is truly about the philosophy of long hair on a man’s head, and not merely a question of fashion or personal taste. The young man running this blog is himself a longhair.

In the case of medieval kings, long hair was a sign of privilege and power, and if they lost their hair to an enemy, they suffered great humiliation and even the loss of their throne.

Short hair on men has always been a sign of servitude. In the armed forces, a man must surrender his personality to become part of the fighting unit entirely under the command of an officer. In the middle ages, short hair was a sign of low standing. Clerics received a tonsure, but often, the hair on the outside of the shaved part was left long. Christ has always been portrayed with long hair. He would be unimaginable with a crew cut as many conservative priests wear.

Long hair on men went in and out of fashion from the middle ages to the Renaissance times.  In the English Civil War, the Cavaliers wore long hair to show that they were high Anglicans or Roman Catholics. The Roundheads were precisely that – with closely cropped hair. They were Puritans and hated beauty or any kind of image. At the Restoration, long hair returned to the royal court.

The French Revolution cut hair as well as heads!  Long hair returned among romantics and medievalists. Short hair was the result of two world wars and a modern version of conservatism and humiliation. Like all my colleagues at seminary, I had short hair, even though medium length hair was tolerated at my school in the 1970’s. Nowadays, in the 2010’s, modern fashionable hairstyles resemble the 1920’s and 30’s.

Myself, I have now been five full months without a haircut and will soon complete my sixth. It is a choice I have made in this stage of my life, and I am confident I will pull it off, since I have no pattern baldness and my grey shag is thick and only slightly wavy. It is now in the “awkward stage”, and has to be lived with patiently. In a little less than one year, it will be possible to tie it back and keep it perfectly neat and tidy for all social settings. Throughout the growth process, it has to be kept perfectly clean, conditioned and groomed. That’s the way it works.

It certainly marks me apart from traditionalist Roman Catholicism, and as a priest with another message to bear. It is important here in France where a mere cassock is synonymous with extreme right-wing politics and ideology. The philosophy and message of long hair depend on many things these days, especially one’s dress and cultural references. There are so many reasons for this option of about 5% of the male population in Europe. I don’t agree with them all but I respect them.

I participate in a men’s long hair forum, and I have been most edified by many who post there. I feel I should not link to it from this blog, at least at this stage. Most of those men are masculine, married with families and sometimes former servicemen. It is not something “camp” or effeminate, but rather a way that a man affirms his own personality and self confidence. Whether they are former hippies, men of science, teachers, working men or in the fine arts – there is even a Rabbi, I find the same aspiration to freedom and a philosophy of life that differs radically from this world of power, money, possession and violence. The ancient symbolism is known to all, however subconsciously.

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Liturgical Extremism / Fetishism

Strong words in the title! Seriously, I have been looking at an interesting dialogue between Patricius and Modestinus. Both positions need to be read and understood. If I have understood Patricius correctly, the reforms introduced into the Roman missal under Pius XII in the 1950’s and enshrined in the John XXIII edition of 1962 constituted a completely new rite, and thus could correctly be superseded by the Novus Ordo of Paul VI in 1969. Therefore, those using the 1962 liturgy would be false traditionalists and doing the wrong thing.

Modestinus adopts a courteous and conciliatory tone. He points out what the average layman might have noticed in the 1950’s. Those who went to the Holy Week ceremonies would have noticed major differences, and not only in the timetable. Between the mid 1950’s and 1962, few would notice any difference. Do these differences really matter? Do they matter compared with worshipping in one’s parish or other community peacefully and just getting on with life? It seems a reasonable attitude coming from a Roman Catholic.

Patricius blames the use of 1962 by traditionalists largely on Archbishop Lefebvre. I was with them in early 1983 in their priory in Bordeaux. The issue of the moment was purging the sedevacantists out of the SSPX, because there was question of reaching an agreement with Rome. Nine American SSPX priests left and set up their own society (St Pius V) and the question of the liturgy was evoked as a major reason. Until then, Fr Black in England was doing the old Holy Week ceremonies, but the French chapels were generally doing 1962 or even 1965 in a few places. The SSPX differentiated between the “old” liturgy up to the first Paul VI version of 1965 and the Novus Ordo of 1969, because it was clearly a new rite and not a revision of the “old”.

Are the editions of 1962 (including the Holy Week rites of 1950 and 1955), 1965 and 1967 to be assimilated to the series of editions of the 1570 Pius V liturgy (not forgetting the Breviary), or to the Novus Ordo of 1969? Whatever may be the answer to this, it appears that 1962 became the means by which Archbishop Lefebvre purged the influential sedevacantists of 1983. The history of the SSPX has been one of purges of those who were too eager to sort things out with Rome or the opposite. Archbishop Leferbvre tried and largely succeeded in keeping an apparently unified SSPX through treading a via media between the “liberals” and the “sedevacantists” or at least the “hard-line” represented today by Bishop Williamson.  The 1962 was a way of playing brinkmanship with Rome, with Cardinal Ratzinger, and it would be a compromise to avoid Rome insisting on the introduction of 1965/67 or a compromise rite with features like the 1969 lectionary and calendar, necessitating radical adaptations to make it “work”. I have seen this sort of thing at the Abbey of Fontgombault and some other monasteries of the Solesmes Congregation.

I make these observations from a more detached point of view, since I only spent a short period of my life as a “convert” to Roman Catholicism from my native Anglicanism, and I am not bound by these problems of authority and ecclesiastical politics.

What about this one?

Besides, those who obsesses over liturgical particularities reveal, as Bishop Bernard Tissier de Mallerais once opined, a superficial and ungrounded faith more concerned with form over substance. Whether one agrees or not with the SSPX’s apostolate, it was never undertaken for the sole purpose of advancing the cause of liturgical fetishism.

I would ask them why they don’t just use the Novus Ordo. Like the 1983 Naughty Nine, the reason is political and the liturgy is only the war banner, the trademark by which people can know which side they’re on. It is only a matter of degree. It is true that there is a problem with a person or a group if form is placed over substance, and concern for the liturgy is out of proportion with deep faith and spirituality.

How is this issue addressed? When I was at seminary, we had Fr Frank Quoëx as MC and specialist in liturgy. He was against the Pius XII and John XXIII reforms, and did what he could to do things the “old way”. Thus at Gricigliano was born the “usages” of using folded chasubles, doing a true Mass of the Presanctified on Good Friday and some subtle restorations of the Holy Saturday rite. Even though Fr Quoëx, ever courteous and diplomatic with the superiors, was too “extreme”, some of those “usages” remain to this day and are even approved by Rome. Fr Quoëx, like others, believed that these issues could be addressed, not by bitter polemics and conflict, but by research and serious academic work, by writing and giving conferences. Polemics only make the adversary stall and refuse all dialogue!

In the Roman Catholic world, it all seems academic with the abdication of Benedict XVI and Pope Francis’ apparent indifference in liturgical matters. Nothing will be achieved at anything like an official level for many years, assuming that the next Pope has “Ratzinguerian” inclinations.

Modestinus argues from the point of someone who has his place in the traditionalist Roman Catholic world. Patricius has nothing to lose and has gone on the warpath. He has no concern for his own credibility, which may be a good or a bad thing. At least no one doubts his sincerity. Fr Quoëx’s way was something like that of Pope Benedict XVI – the library, the conference hall and the private chapel. I suppose it is mine too, as I have no parish ministry. I am older and saw many of these conflicts thirty years ago, and the fact that nothing has been achieved. Some of the Naughty Nine have stable ministries and have obtained the Episcopate from dissident Roman Catholic lineages. One of their sites is St Gertrude’s Church. They have done much better than many of the vagantes through their sense of mission, professionalism and already having significant numbers of faithful and financial resources. At my stage in life, I find Patricius’ unrestrained rhetoric unnerving and embarrassing.

I don’t have a party line to uphold, but as a priest in a serious ecclesial body, there is a certain gravitas and restraint to observe. I believe in the intellectual and courteous approach, and that is what the Guild of Saint Osmund is all about (about which I will shortly write as it has not yet been introduced). I speak respectfully of Roman Catholic authorities, also of traditionalist clergy and others. Courtesy pays. At the same time, I ceased to use the Roman rite in 2008 – and I had been using the 1920 version with the old Holy Week and all. I reverted to Sarum with the only difference of using the Gregorian calendar. It is my intimate conviction that liturgical diversity, not uniformity, will solve many of these issues – and the liturgical life of the Church will eventually regulate itself.

I know Patricius is burdened by a condition that used to be known as Asperger’s Syndrome and is now considered by the medical profession as a part of the autistic syndrome. To be frank, I have many doubts about the value of psychiatry and its scientific validity. We all have our temperaments and personalities, and we are all conditioned and affected by our childhood and other experiences in life. As adults, we have the duty of living with our difficulties and compensating. A blind man develops his hearing and touch to compensate and overcome his handicap. Patricius is frank about his condition on the internet, and I do not feel as though I am breaking any confidences here. Growing up is about making our narrow interests a part of the whole, learning to overcome our social difficulties by developing empathy. We need to learn to listen and take interest in what the other person is expressing, even if we think the person is wrong. There is always a grain of truth somewhere. Yes, it’s about growing up and making our emotional life match our intellectual capacities. I’m far from perfect and have my own issues to solve, but I’m probably further along the way through bitter experience.

We can love the liturgy and resist tendencies to tamper with it and make it into something else. Everything depends on how we do so. Fr Quoëx has left behind him a legacy of influence and memories from the day he tragically died of cancer in January 2007 at only 39 years of age. Another influence was Dr Ray Winch, the eccentric Oxford don, who never ceased to be courteous in his dialogues and vocation to teach. I have known others, including some of my schoolmasters, whose words and example remained. I wonder if I’ll leave as much behind when I pass away one day! At least there will be this blog if nothing else…

For the charge that our faith, spirituality and knowledge need to be in proportion to our love of the liturgy, this is something I take seriously. I am still a priest and do my duties, but my life is no longer spent in the sacristy (I spend about 5 minutes a day in mine to put vestments on and take them off after Mass, sometimes longer if I need to do a tidy-up). Diversifying is very good for the soul. That is something good that comes from being married. We go to singing lessons and quartet or choir rehearsals. I go sailing and get involved with clubs and boat gatherings. I pride myself on getting on with ordinary people. All this makes me no less interested in liturgy, but it puts things into perspective.

I’m a Sarum man. I don’t care about 1962 or 1920. I use the Anglican Missal when required though pastoral necessity in my Church. I believe that diversity will solve many of these issues and prevent liturgical rites being used as ideological banners. Just undo the screws! A lot will come undone, but will self-regulate in many places. Then we will celebrate the praises of God through love and not through mechanical authority and fear of sanctions.

Perhaps one needs to be a priest to understand many of these things!

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The Basic Ecclesial Community

The notion of the Basic Ecclesial Community is usually associated with Jesuits in South America and “progressive” Roman Catholicism. Nevertheless, I have been doing a little research to discover the ideas behind it. Could it be an alternative form of community life and ministry in liturgical churches with more classical forms of liturgy? In a certain way, continuing Anglican churches are spontaneous groups of lay folk who find a priest to celebrate the Eucharist, or who otherwise pray the Office and spend time together.

This quote struck me:

It is not a matter of getting people to church, but how to be authentically church to them. To be church is not to do the religious thing but to listen, to struggle with people.

Be authentically church to them? This obviously means different things to me, or to many of us who read this blog, or to progressive left-wing ideologues. For me, the first thing about the Church is as a “framework” of the liturgy, the point by which the faithful may experience supernatural realities, the things of God. We arrive at a time when most people can no longer relate to parishes or the churches in the places where they live – because they no longer live this ideal, or because the liturgy is designed on a fallacious human basis.

To the left-wing ideologue, the basic community is a way to escape from the clutches of conservative ecclesiastical authority structures. It becomes a small-scale political movement, comparing the official Church with the politicians and businessmen who took their land away from them and exploited them in their poverty. With the current economic situation in the west, the same raison d’être could be evoked – but this is not a Church but politics. Can a basic community exist for the purpose of being the Church, for the purpose of that liturgical and mystical experience and constructing the community on that basis?

Early on in this blog’s life, I explored the independent sacramental movement and the idea of independent “goliard” clergy breaking with the stereotypes of micro “official” churches with their potemkim structures of plywood and cardboard. Even the modest notion of the independent church seems not to have any staying power, and stability. Even the blogs stop after a year or two, as they have nothing more to say and writer’s block sets in. We are made to think of the severed branch lying on the ground all dried up, whilst the tree it came from is in full leaf. That being said, it does a lot of good to tone down the clericalism and define one’s priestly vocation in other terms.

If some people want to establish such a community – we call them missions and house groups in our Church (ACC), there is no escaping the need for the Church’s mission. We are sent. We don’t appoint ourselves. I see this as the most constant reason why self-styled episcopates just don’t work. If they do work, it is because there is some strand of a mission from Christ through the historic Church. The process of growth is very slow, but has to be based on trust and confidence, and above all the fact of being a church, not a political party or some social concern.

What about the constitution of a group that is not made up of fully committed members of a given institutional Church? What is it came together on a different basis, like, for example, interest in the Sarum liturgy? Surely the priest, belonging to an institutional Church and accountable to his Bishop, is also called to serve where he finds himself. Nearly everyone to whom I give Communion is not an Anglican Catholic, but what I call a generic Catholic. They have been baptised and catechised, mostly in the Roman Catholic Church, and became more or less alienated – and certainly are no longer convinced of “true church” claims. There are many such people in France, but who usually would not become stable members of another ecclesial community. They come and go, curious, in search of a spiritual way, but too burned out to make a commitment. Such people come in many shapes and forms, some highly intellectual and interested in liturgical questions but spiritually wounded. We have to reach out, not to get them into church, but to remind them that the Church still exists and is learning lessons from its institutional sins.

Institutional Churches usually treat the burned-out as rubbish to be got rid of – materialists, “cultural” Catholics, cafeteria Catholics, you name it. Very often, these people are the poor of spirit, whether they struggle financially or are comfortable. Most of these people have turned over the page, and any spiritual life they might still have is secret, over which no one else has any control. What if the Church were no longer interested in control, or even “helping”, but in simply asking people to help in the community’s prayer and liturgy, and experience the beauty of holiness? If people can believe that such an idea is being expressed sincerely and there are “no tricks”, then this might be a way towards the new Church – or rather the Church without the debilitating baggage.

Looking at some of the ideas from South America, they seem to be remarkably familiar.

Their structure is based on re-creating isolated, self-reliant, missionary-oriented communities that characterised the early Church, with minimum authority.

They are directed by lay people, which can be a good thing, or the group of lay men and women can become like the pigs in Orwell’s Animal Farm, like Robespierre and Stalin. All good ideas can backfire. The idea is based on subdividing mega-parishes, which is obviously not a concern in Continuing Anglicanism. Here in France, the parishes are grouped together and the old parishes are turned into “basic communities” – dead ones with no vision, ability to show the world any real spirituality or ability to do any more than establish one’s petty base of control. That is the downside of the idea. Ideas have to be accompanied by vision and capable personalities.

The conservative Catholic is going to call this model of community life “congregationalism”, and we have already been called that for not folding up in 2011 or 2012 and enrolling in our local Ordinariate. Name-calling is part of the blackmail and control-freakery of the apologists. Congregationalism can simply be a means of getting rid of conservative authority and imposing liberal agendas like homosexuality and feminism. The community has to include the authority of the Bishop and the adaptability of priests prepared to lay down their own control-freakery of clerical to work with the laity.

The Basic Ecclesial Community should not be a mechanism of destroying parishes and the priestly vocation, for for supplementing them in the way of specialised chaplaincies. In some circumstances, the idea is stimulating, when the purpose of such communities is being church and not furthering some half-baked ideology. In other circumstances, it is the death of parishes and the rotting of our churches, as we observe in rural France.

Getting people back to church through aggressive marketing or being a silent witness in the desert? Perhaps neither. If being church is not to do the religious thing but to listen, to struggle with people, then it would not be a church at all. Church is all about religion, all the acts of communion between man and God. Otherwise why bother? Go into politics or become a social worker, and concentrate on what those domains of life do, but don’t call it a church. At the same time, there is an element of truth. We are as weak as the outside world, with the sick, elderly and doubting, with those who struggle to earn a living in a world that wants to make honest work impossible.

Perhaps the basic community has its place in a world where the Church has collapsed, where everything is closed down or moribund, taken over by “basic community” ideology and imposed by Orwellian pigs. Something has to distinguish the idea and make it specifically Christian, and liturgical.

I would greatly appreciate input on this subject, especially from those with any experience in this bewildering world.

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Another Gripe at Continuing Anglicanism

Update: The posting in question has been taken down. The new posting χαριτόω offers some explanation.

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I fail to see why this had to be posted to-day on a blog that often publishes constructive articles of good quality:

No-go

I have no desire to sling mud and this blog will never mention individuals by name. But the reasons that CA is pretty much a no-go are known to everyone and can’t be put more succinctly than this:

Too many bishops!

Is it another one of those blackmailing jabs to get more ditherers to swallow the apologetics and snap into the Ordinariate?

If the person running this blog took the trouble to look at the reality as it presents itself today, most of the “mainstream” continuing churches have got their act together. Yes, we did have the “bishops’ brawl” in the 1990’s and old Hamlett in England. Those problems have been sorted out through a greater degree of professionalism and accountability in the Episcopate. Can no credit be given for learning lessons and making institutional reforms where they were needed?

I lived through the events of the TAC from the bishops’ meeting to Anglicanorum Coetibus, to the dismantling of the TAC for spare parts in 2011-2012. The only one in Rome who spoke with any clarity was Cardinal Kasper, hardly a friend of the Pope at the time! I recommend revising some of the history from my old TAC Archive. A lot of backstabbing went on. Rome could have been more clear early on that the deal didn’t include Archbishop Hepworth – but they used him because he was the only one who could whip up enthusiasm and get the whole thing organised. The TAC bishops who remained hardly distinguished themselves by leaving their “radioactive” Primate in place for so long. There is no black and white here, no “good guys” and “bad guys”. Rant over. I’m not interested, but we still get the same old stuff in various hues and shades.

I make no judgement on the Continuum as a whole, but I trust my Bishop and my Archbishop, my fellow clergy in England, and feel truly at home in an ecclesia where the whole Catholic Church subsides through the Priesthood, the Eucharist and the Gospel. I have every confidence that the Anglican Catholic Church is not “angry” as a general characteristic. I see no sign of corruption, and I observe the professionalism of our bishops. Also, we have just the number of bishops needed to look after our priests and parishes in different parts of the world. We are certainly not “no go” – but “just what it says on the label”.

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