tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82838278060664539692024-02-07T02:41:29.746+00:00Singulare IngeniumA Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di-nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger390125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-21994797096190953162010-05-24T16:02:00.003+01:002010-07-12T14:33:33.083+01:00New Blog...I have started a new blog - <a href="http://liturgiae-causa.blogspot.com/">Liturgiae Causa</a> - if anyone is interested. Follow the link to have a look. I haven't finished tinkering about with the blog template and I still need to add new posts but I have been unwell over this extremely hot weekend and have only just found the time. I hope you enjoy reading it!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-13478013049957532472010-04-13T15:26:00.003+01:002010-05-14T14:36:04.896+01:00Good counsel?My mother and I had a lengthy discussion last night about life. This was instigated over my feelings of profound annoyance about someone I know, pecuniary matters mostly. I don't like feeling annoyed about them because I love them immensely, but I just do feel annoyed, and I feel sorry for them. Inevitably (as has most discussion with my mother turned of late) the matter turned to my unfortunate circumstances, apropos, University, long-term employment etc. I don't like my mother's way of dealing with this matter; ''well Patrick, if you'd actually done some work you wouldn't be in this position'' - you know, the rubbing-my-nose-in-it approach, and I don't like having to face ''reality'' at the best of times, but a good dose of reality can be refreshing and helpful sometimes.<br /><br />One thing my mother blames my failure at University on is this blog. In fact, she has asked me to stop blogging altogether. In reality the problem goes deeper than that. When I enrolled in 2006 I was young, had lots of money and lacked personal discipline. Now I am less young than I was, have no money at all and still lack personal discipline, and the application to do anything worthwhile. In all honesty I am entirely frustrated with life. I am sick to death of subsisting on £350 a month (which, because I am constantly overdrawn, is never even that much - £200 if I am lucky); on top of this I have a standing order going to try and rebuild my savings (which 4 years ago were about £4,000 - now it is £30!), I have a monthly phone bill to pay (my mother blames my purchasing the iPhone upon the influence of ''social climbers'' - keeping up with the Joneses etc), and housekeeping; so it all adds up. In the end I am left with nothing and I don't like that. I haven't purchased a single book in months! So all I have going for me is my education, which is hanging on by a thread. One of my biggest regrets is not having gone to Oxford (I could have done, I had the grades), but I was too afraid to leave home. Never mind, we all make mistakes.<br /><br />In the meantime, I am going to take my mother's advice and stop blogging. She has in fact commanded me to do so. I often wondered whether this small, vicious, blog was even a positive contribution to the ''apostolate'' of blogging. As I said in a previous post, thinking more deeply upon the life and dispositions of J.R.R Tolkien (my hero), I don't think he'd approve of blogs much. In the last few weeks, I have lost four followers - perhaps this is a sign that I have reached the end of the road? What do you all think?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-7816560574168970152010-04-12T00:12:00.002+01:002010-04-12T00:36:15.807+01:00A prelude...Patricius is writing a post (or will begin to write, when he gets time) about what he believes, since his beliefs were recently called into question by a reader. Surely if all Catholic blogs said the same thing they'd all be boring? And personally I wouldn't look to a blog, which at the end of the day is a private endeavour, to find the general voice of the Church or as a guide of faith. Blogs, which I am sure Tolkien would not approve of (at least as an ''apostolate'' of the Church, in a literary context), are written by individuals who think they have something to say which may or may not be positive, informative, or whatever. I write because I enjoy writing, and hope that this small blog, which averages a readership of about 80 a day, redounds to the greater glory of God. I certainly do not have my readers in mind when I write, nor am I going to moderate my convictions to suit any of them.<br /><br />I am a Catholic. I am not a ''traditionalist'' - such labels are spurious and entirely meaningless. Do you honestly think that God will care much when you stand next to the most raving liberal on the Day of Judgement and you are asked to give an account of your deeds? Oh but Lord! I was a Traditionalist! I am not a <em>Roman</em> Catholic, in the sense that I do not live in Rome (my relationship, therefore, with the Holy Father is markedly different from a Catholic living in the Diocese of Rome - to a Roman man, the Pope is local Bishop, Archbishop, Metropolitan, Patriarch and Vicar of Christ all at once - to me, he is not local Bishop, nor Archbishop nor Metropolitan - just Pope and Patriarch), and neither do I think that everything that emanates from Rome in the liturgical sense is necessarily catholic or apostolic, even in the broadest sense, and therefore is not for the good of the Church. For my part I love and respect the present Holy Father - he far outshines his most recent predecessors, and I think he is a very pious and erudite man. I am certainly not a Protestant or an Orthodox. I am a purely liturgical Catholic, and I reverence Tradition over novelty, unlike the present fashion of adhering to both in a comfortable relativistic fudge.<br /><br />More on this in the actual post. Meantime, I have to be up early for work...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-52778598578984814632010-04-09T15:52:00.002+01:002010-04-09T16:35:06.499+01:00Politics...I have absolutely no interest in politics whatsoever. This is what I said to a UKIP candidate (or whatever he was, he was posting leaflets through peoples' front doors) when I was stopped by him as I was walking home from church on Laetare Sunday. Naturally his reaction was a short speech about how my taxes are spent, etc. I just stared at him blankly and nodded. Does this make me complacent?<br /><br />I believe I have only voted once (in a local election), to the constant indignation of my mother, who persistently reminds me of my <em>right</em> to vote. I concede that we must ''make hay while the Sun shines'', as the saying goes, considering that in 50 years there will be no voting, only one Party, the Party of Antichrist, no freedom, the Church having been driven into new catacombs etc. The trouble is, I don't like rendering unto Caesar, because I don't like Caesar. There is always something wrong with the candidate, something very wrong, and I have a cordial loathing for most politicians anyway. And as for political parties...I find the very notion abominable. By such ill-luck was I born into these latter days. I despair of Caesar; he is a monster and in such a short time has managed to turn virtue into vice and sin into that which is praiseworthy; divorce, fornication, contraception, abortion, homosexuality - all (or at least most, we're not quite into <em>the</em> Last Days yet) conceivable abuses are held aloft, reflecting the most reprehensible grotesqueries of human nature (or at least the nature of a Man who has given up - why bother observing even the Natural law when you have ceased loving God - or even acknowledging that there is one?), and the Church and her ministers, the entire perfect society on earth, are kicked sideways. But then what is the use of complaining? Surely we are blessed when we are abused for Our Lord's sake?<br /><br />Kingship is naturally the best form of government, not democracies which fragment authority. Nature is afterall hierarchical...<br /><br />Do I, therefore, vote or don't I?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-71724342580706549062010-04-09T02:14:00.002+01:002010-04-09T02:28:05.501+01:00Thought-provoking...I am not that into psychology, or analysing eras/periods in history with the benefit of hindsight, foolishly going over what should have happened etc. As Denethor said to Gandalf, such ifs and buts are vain. Fr Hunwicke, the erudite Anglican priest of St Thomas' in Oxford, has written a thought-provoking, albeit succinct, <a href="http://liturgicalnotes.blogspot.com/2010/04/gaudium-et-er-spes.html">post</a> about Gaudium et Spes (gosh what a tragically misleading title) and the 1960s in general. I am not interested one iota in that book he is reading, although readers who are into that period may find it interesting.<br /><br />What I agree with the eminent Fr Hunwicke most about is the sole good of the 1960s, the most foresighted document to come from that period - <em>Humanae Vitae</em>. When I first read Humanae Vitae my first thoughts were that I had seriously misjudged Paul VI - I used to think he was a nasty wretched liberal. I think one can still legitimately think that - he is solely responsible for the <em>Novus Ordo</em>, whatever one thinks of Bugnini and his cronies (as my M.C constantly reminds me - the first rule of leadership is that everything is your fault!) for instance, but Humanae Vitae represents an eminent good about the Papacy - the ability of a Pope to act according to his authority and good will for the good of the Church. I don't know but I believe that the ''commission'' Paul VI had set up to examine the pros/cons of artificial birth control had counselled the Holy Father that artificial birth control was a good, or at least a ''necessary'' evil (tolerable at least for ''pastoral'' reasons).<br /><br />Feed my sheep was Our Lord's last charge to St Peter. Surely this doesn't refer merely to the Blessed Sacrament? Gosh, I am speaking good of Paul VI! I have had a few though...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-92228393698596606472010-04-08T15:12:00.003+01:002010-04-08T15:57:02.334+01:00The Childhood of Túrin, Part I...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89Iq2mU_kXvqX3xRHKrbwOsT23qtcIZopks7jJdxBpZrGvvC5i-cQh2cxqc_xYRaM-_dM4JZFUSHKf0MfUAkCY_5qQdPpDWZwI_uj16-Zme7JiGLjZbTZWTeXQMyjBpUv4Db1p-PTZXqO/s1600/Lalaith.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457780603690600866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89Iq2mU_kXvqX3xRHKrbwOsT23qtcIZopks7jJdxBpZrGvvC5i-cQh2cxqc_xYRaM-_dM4JZFUSHKf0MfUAkCY_5qQdPpDWZwI_uj16-Zme7JiGLjZbTZWTeXQMyjBpUv4Db1p-PTZXqO/s400/Lalaith.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Húrin and Huor were the sons of Galdor, Lord of Dor-lómin. In their youth they dwelt in the forest of Brethil as the foster-sons of Haldir, their uncle, as was the custom of Northern Men in those days. They went oft to battle with the Orcs upon the borders of that land, and though the boys were yet young by the reckoning of Men, Húrin was strong and fierce in battle, and Huor was already as tall as most full-grown Men.</div><br /><div>On a time the brothers went with a company of scouts, but they were ambushed by the Orcs and scattered, and they were pursued even to the fords at Brithiach. There they would have been captured or slain but for the power of the lord Ulmo in the upper waters of Sirion. It is told that a mist arose from the river and concealed the brothers from the eyes of their enemies, and they escaped into Dimbar. There they wandered among the hills in hardship, lost, until Thorondor espied them from his high eyries, and he sent two eagles to them, who brought them to the Hidden City of Gondolin, which no Man had yet seen.</div><br /><div>At Gondolin the brothers were received well, for they were Edain, and moreover Ulmo had counselled Turgon to treat kindly with the people of Hador. Húrin and Huor dwelt as guests in the King's house for well-nigh a year, and had honour in the realm, and they received there the wisdom of the Gnomes, and learned somewhat of the counsels of the Gnomes. Turgon indeed took great liking to the brothers, and desired to keep them in Gondolin out of love and not only for the sake of his law that none who came hither had leave to depart. But the brothers grew weary of the Hidden City and desired to return to their kin, to share in their griefs and in the defence of their homes against the Dark Lord. And so Turgon granted them leave to go, for said Húrin, they found not the way hither and they knew not surely where the City stood.</div><br /><div>But Maeglin, the nephew of Turgon, was grieved not at all at their going; for he had no liking for any Man and moreover he begrudged them the clemency of the King. To Húrin he said: ''The King's grace is greater than you know, and some might wonder wherefore the strict law is abated for two knave-children of Men. It would be safer if they had no choice but to abide here as our servants to their life's end.'' But Húrin said: ''The King's grace is great indeed, but if our word is not enough, then we will swear oaths to you.'' And the brothers swore never to reveal the counsels of the King, and to keep secret all that they had seen and heard in his realm. And so Thorondor, coming by night, bore the twain away and set them down in Dor-lómin before the dawn. Their kinsfolk rejoiced to see them, although many (not least Galdor, the old lord) wondered at the strange fortune of the brothers, and the Eagles, and the oath of silence pointed to Gondolin, Men thought.</div><br /><div>So the days passed, and the shadow of the fear of Morgoth lengthened, and the days drew on to the dread year 472. Húrin married Morwen of the House of Bëor. Morwen was dark-haired and tall, and men called her Eledhwen, the elven-fair, for she was beautiful, albeit stern of mood and proud. The sorrows of the House of Bëor saddened her, for she had come as an exile from Dorthonion after the Dagor Bragollach. Túrin was their firstborn child, and he was born in that year (464) in which Beren son of Barahir came into Doriath and first looked on Lúthien. A daughter was also born to Morwen, Urwen, but by all who knew her she was Lalaith, for the sound of her laughter brought the sound of Nen Lalaith, a stream that came singing out of the hills past Húrin's house, to the minds of Men, and they were glad when she was among them.</div><br /><div>To be continued...</div><br /><div>Art: <a href="http://www.tednasmith.com/silmarillion/sketches.html">Ted Nasmith</a>. It is a sketch depicting Lalaith.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-80404062022071519462010-04-07T15:04:00.003+01:002010-04-07T22:02:31.112+01:00Ugh...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhse-y9ka8nHai8EgI9p4fmngfBmHumMHYxBN9jnsMzzFIhctVAzlh2uc63TakaF919Cy_hby9hPmppoRwcl4JXaThzwLPdLLTTwXslgc9ws3nV1tS35qzgVHmrlDPEwNWDlUq-fYxgRcDl/s1600/Low+Mass!.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457399739926595122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 341px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhse-y9ka8nHai8EgI9p4fmngfBmHumMHYxBN9jnsMzzFIhctVAzlh2uc63TakaF919Cy_hby9hPmppoRwcl4JXaThzwLPdLLTTwXslgc9ws3nV1tS35qzgVHmrlDPEwNWDlUq-fYxgRcDl/s400/Low+Mass!.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is probably one of the most distressing photos I have ever seen (courtesy of <a href="http://tradwatch.blogspot.com/">Tradwatch</a>). What do you think?</div><br /><div>Had I stayed on at University reading Divinity, I would have written my dissertation on the effects of Low Mass on Protestant theology (I doubt this would have been approved of though - the College is not that traditional); a veritable tour-de-force I reckon. Any comments as to a title?</div><br /><div>If things go as I hope they do, however, I am going to read Classics - something infinitely more agreeable (and suitable for an Undergraduate degree) than Theology. In hindsight, the only things I was interested in were Church History, Historical Theology and Latin.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-54082658821976625902010-04-06T12:59:00.003+01:002010-04-06T14:34:16.149+01:00''Ecclesiastical'' Latin and Liturgy...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjicZc7zF6pi_CDwCBaDDrNt24nB2ab6FU2nlOORJMsYTjCTYAmJ-wanwSGBZgvP2mEltX7zSE9RND6cLL5WDtv4B5sHTK5_3abe8Mxa_xMMruabcyWAdRKkjbII8OpRe_EftKBXodfxYZX/s1600/Urban+VIII.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457017215225352354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjicZc7zF6pi_CDwCBaDDrNt24nB2ab6FU2nlOORJMsYTjCTYAmJ-wanwSGBZgvP2mEltX7zSE9RND6cLL5WDtv4B5sHTK5_3abe8Mxa_xMMruabcyWAdRKkjbII8OpRe_EftKBXodfxYZX/s400/Urban+VIII.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I don't hold Pope Urban VIII (A.D 1568-1644) in very high esteem, but he was no idiot. He knew the Latin language inside out, and indeed composed some of his own hymns which, lamentably, in 1629 were incorporated into the Roman Breviary. I find it astounding that in this respect he did not conform to the old Roman tradition but to an absurd, pseudo-Classical Latinity, which is of course not traditional but a gross anachronism (what on earth does Olympus have to do with the Faith?!), aimed at meeting his own tastes, and the general taste of his age. Are these the early signs of <em>aggiornamento</em>, which Tolkien said in 1963 was fraught with danger? He had the aid of four Jesuits, a small committee. I think that Jesuits and Liturgy have seldom got on precisely because of the unique apostolate of this <em>Counter-Reformation</em> Order - reciting the Office <em>alone</em> on Mission, saying Low Mass <em>alone</em>, again on Mission. Liturgy should never have become a solitary act (as a missionary Order, I like the <em>idea</em> of the Jesuits, a well-trained, highly intelligent Order of Priests - shame it never really worked out in the end. I have met one good Jesuit in my life, and know of one other), and despite all the ''theology'' you might try to scaffold around Low Mass, all the choirs of Angels rejoicing in the Sacrifice celebrated by a lonely priest etc, Liturgy is supposed to mirror the Heavenly liturgy as much as possible in a tangible way - for example, the presence of Sacred Ministers, a liturgical choir, incense, servers etc. Low Mass falls short of this. Anyway, I digress as usual. These hymns are entirely repugnant to the liturgical Tradition of the Roman Rite and represent yet more Papal interference in the florid sequence of liturgical growth. Did Urban VIII spurn the kind of Latin used by St Ambrose, St Augustine and St Leo the Great? Surely you agree that using Papal authority to alter the Liturgy is an abuse?</div><br /><div>Of the Breviary reform of Urban VIII, that great and erudite scholar Fr Adrian Fortescue had this to say: ''No one who knows anything about the subject now doubts that the revision of Urban VIII was a ghastly mistake, for which there is not one single word of any kind to be said.'' (<em>Adrian Fortescue, Concerning Hymns, p.37</em>). Luckily those who were exempt from the revision, taking advantage of the antiquity of their own liturgical books, avoided the new Breviary (the Benedictines, the Cistercians, the Dominicans etc), and one good thing, coming out of Vatican II as a rose from a dung-heap, is that the older hymns were brought back. This is not to say, however, that I approve of the <em>liturgia horarum</em>.</div><br /><div>While we're on the subject, let's say a few words about the <em>correct</em> pronunciation of Latin. I learned Classical Latin, and certainly it is more traditional to pronounce Latin in the Classical way. It was only under Pius X that the Italian way was imposed on the Universal Church - another example of Papal authority going beyond its constraints. You don't honestly think that some parish priest in England circa 1150 pronounced Latin as they did in the Papal court? There is every reason <em>not</em> to pronounce Latin in the Italian fashion; it just goes against the grain in Northern Europe. I would personally argue from both an historical and aesthetic perspective. An example: which sounds nicer? Sancta Caecilia, ora pro nobis [Classical style: sanc-ta kai-keel-ia, ora pro no-bees], or Sancta Caecilia, ora pro nobis [''ecclesiastical'' fashion: sanc-ta chae-chee-lee-a, ora pro no-bees].</div><br /><div>But to what extent would this affect Sacred Music I wonder?...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-82153974127478726462010-04-06T00:51:00.003+01:002010-04-06T01:15:58.796+01:00Traddies...Last week I was advised to remove a comment I had made vis-à-vis Traditionalists. Since I did not know (and still in fact do not know) how to delete a comment on Blogger, I deleted the whole post. I have now re-published the text of that post since I believe what I said was good and true. Many of you may find it strange for me to say: ''I am not a Traditionalist.'' I used to be one - that is, when I ''converted'' to the Old Rite in the days before <em>Summorum Pontificum</em>. I have since moved on from that hopeless and utterly spurious state - a state which cannot remain a permanent feature of the Church - because I think Traditionalists are boring (yes I know you were expecting some profound reason but there isn't an underlying one reason - just lots of little things which I will not elaborate). What, therefore, is young Patricius? That remains for another post, which I shall write when I can be bothered. Comments will be published as normal.<br /><br />I was in two minds about whether or not to actually publish this post, which many of you may find disagreeable, but two things have happened to change my mind this evening. You understand that I write not with my readers in mind. I write because I enjoy writing, and hope that my efforts redound to the greater glory of God. A friend of mine counselled me recently to be mindful of ''politics'' whenever I write posts for this blog (at least posts of this sort). While I do not spurn this counsel, I feel supremely confident in the insignificance of this blog to say what I feel like anyway, plus if something has to be said, then it must be said. I have, afterall, been known to ''tell it how it is'', as the saying goes...<br /><br />I am not a ''traditionalist'' Catholic, whatever that means. Such a spurious label carries with it a heap of unfortunate connotations, and many sentiments, which I repudiate. I shall try to explain these in due course. I am a simple Catholic, and a Hobbit, living and worshipping according to the traditional Roman Rite (at least, whenever this is possible), in the North-west of Middle-earth. I have an interest in Liturgy, the rubrics and the history thereof, and the Latin language. Nothing much else really. I find ''traditionalist'' Catholics irksome. I mean those who fondly suppose that they reverence Tradition and yet accept every innovation coming out of Rome (every decision of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, for example, even if these decisions go against liturgical orthopraxis) out of blind obedience and without any qualms whatsoever. I despair when I ask such people what some idiot in the S.R.C knows about Liturgy. Most ''traditionalists'' are ignorant of most of the changes anyway, and many stupidly confuse novelty with tradition. I laughed bitterly when last year I saw a ''traditional mass'' advertised somewhere for the feast of San Giuseppe Communista! What annoys me is why ''traditionalists'' who blindly accept novelty (what do the Scriptures say? They exchanged the Word of God for a lie...) do not question it. Why was this Feast moved? Why was that Octave abolished? Why were Folded Chasubles, an ancient and Roman tradition, done away with? In fact, why has Liturgy been entirely rewritten with complete disregard for the rest of Church history? Etc, etc...I could go on, but it would be as long and tedious as years of torment. Acceptance of such changes is not the catholic thing to do, and this is not my opinion. You must understand that I do not have opinions...<br /><br />This is not all strictly true though. Some ''traditionalists'' do at least question the decisions, but are too spineless (is this too harsh a word?) to admit that the decisions were wrong, and fundamentally so. Does it really go against the grain that much to admit that Rome can in fact err, as can Popes? My understanding of the Petrine office (of which I am 100% convinced, by the way) is that Infallibility applies only to matters of Doctrine. I just think that some notorious 20th century Popes, mad with power, took this too literally, and began to tamper with things that are infinitely above them, and their office as pastor, not lord; guardian, not arbiter. Therefore, decisions of Popes about Liturgy in the 20th century should be taken as much notice of as if the Pope solemnly declared after a Papal High Mass that his Sunday roast was good for the Salvation of souls. Perhaps it behoves Pope Benedict XVI, a man I love and respect deeply, to draw up some sort of Magna Carta for future Popes telling them what they cannot do. The first item would have to be: ''You know nothing about Liturgy, so leave it well alone.''<br /><br />A Traddy (we'll call them this for convenience - ''traditionalist'' is a bit of a mouthful, and a nuisance to type) once told me that my attitude to the New Rite was ''wrong'' - why is it wrong? I just see the New Rite for what it is, and avoid it like the plague, since it is strange, crooked, utterly removed from Liturgy, and pernicious. It's rotten, rotten to the core, and no amount of ''reform of the reform'' is going to improve it, so why do people bother about it? If you wilfully attend the New Rite, and actually like doing so, you are not ''traditional'' at all, you just see Liturgy as just one of many choices in the cafeteria of modern Catholicism - and this boils down to that great enemy of the Church today, namely, relativism. The New Rite is not equal in dignity, eld and status to the Old Rite, as though attending and assisting at one is just as good as attending the other. The Old Rite is infinitely greater than the New Rite, the validity of which I would seriously call into question were the dictates of my Faith not nagging me about that all the time. You can thank the Scholastics for that.<br /><br />Another Traddy once called my aversion to Low Mass ''untraditional.'' Again, why am I being ''untraditional'' for seeing Low Mass as an abridged, meeting-the-bare-requirements, boring form of Liturgy? High Mass is more traditional than Low Mass, and far older, and no serious historian of Liturgy would find this objectionable. I met an old man at a Liturgy conference 2/3 years ago (I won't be going to any of those again, at least not any organised by any ''traditionalist'' group), who was nice and genuine, but genuine also in error, and blamed all liturgical woes on Vatican II and seemed to think that High Mass developed from Low Mass! This was too much for me and I walked away. You would think that for someone old enough to have witnessed all changes from Pius XII onwards would be a tad more aware. However, I do not blame people for not knowing about the changes, just for acting as if they do. I'm sick of this now so I shall leave it at that - just letting off steam, don't you know! I have a tendency to ''build things up'' silently and then explode. I hope the damage isn't too great...<br /><br />PS: Amusingly, I thought of writing a children's horror story today. It would begin: ''Once upon a time, there was a bad old Pope called Pius...''Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-44190324047678600572010-04-05T23:43:00.002+01:002010-04-06T00:02:59.260+01:00Some pedantry...Time for some pedantry I think. Two things: in my last post, I said that ''the <em>solita oscula</em> <em><strong>was</strong></em> not omitted'' among the Russians on Good Friday. How stupid of me! since <em>solita oscula</em> is neuter plural (it was a typo, owing to poor editing). It would be good, presuming readers own a 1983 Code of Canon Law (I own both the 1983 Code and the traditional Code, which I find more ''agreeable'' - inasmuch as I find the ''codification'' of Canon Law ''agreeable,'' that is - another Pacelli novelty, although he was in 1917 merely an underling - as an aside, I wonder whether his later mutilation of Liturgy, reversing the ancient <em>Lex Orandi</em>, had anything to do with his formation in Canon Law?), to look up Canon 249...<br /><br />Also, speaking to a young man recently about Liturgy, he mentioned the ''pre-1955'' Rites of Holy Week. I feel compelled to clarify: <em>Maxima Redemptionis</em> was not promulgated until November of 1955, <em>ergo</em> Holy Week 1955 would have been in the Old Rite (except in modernist churches where the experimental 1952 Paschal Vigil was being...''experimented'' I suppose). And so it is more accurate to speak of pre-1956.<br /><br />Patricius is going to write a ''clarifying'' post in defence of his own Catholicism. I think perhaps that some think I am slightly less than Catholic because I repudiate novelty, can't stand Traditionalists and have no qualms about criticising people, even Popes. I still haven't finished my campaign against Traditionalism and Low Mass, but perhaps during the Paschal Octave charity must pervade and righteous wrath be set at naught...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-6203296434486382642010-04-04T16:17:00.003+01:002010-04-04T16:56:43.508+01:00Dominica Resurrectionis...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLREB7gAfEA9rUbkHOjAp_OgfbtjL7ghEKA523BzYEel7je-CyID0uuL2gMU2Aq4vXqpYZP7H53EM9rzALNyVrBKPM2zP2jtLaeQtEgukw315Pu02atxvRskaqyQ4uUbbAAUvkAsw-tfK/s1600/The+Resurrection.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456311757444150882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 253px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLREB7gAfEA9rUbkHOjAp_OgfbtjL7ghEKA523BzYEel7je-CyID0uuL2gMU2Aq4vXqpYZP7H53EM9rzALNyVrBKPM2zP2jtLaeQtEgukw315Pu02atxvRskaqyQ4uUbbAAUvkAsw-tfK/s400/The+Resurrection.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A very happy Easter to all my readers! I wish you all the blessings, both temporal and spiritual, in the Risen Lord in this most exquisite Paschaltide. I have returned from a very decent Triduum, although I am very tired because of it - travelling around incessantly, standing, kneeling etc for long, in some cases very long, liturgies, and despite not having fasted per se (I twice had lunch in the pub, but I thought I'd benefit more from the energy rather than fasting and then fainting at some point), I was starving hungry for most of it. I had time in the end to attend Pontifical Mattins and Lauds among the Russians but decided against going, both because I was physically exhausted and because a friend offered me a lift home, which I gratefully accepted. I overslept this morning!</div><br /><div>Anyway, enough about my health. Unfortunately I am not able to give a full account of the days, for two reasons. I do not know enough about Eastern Liturgy to do so, and...well, when we get to it in the Synopsis of the <em>Narn i Chîn Húrin</em>, imagine the return of the brothers Húrin and Huor to their father Galdor in Dor-lómin...</div><br /><div>I noticed, on Good Friday at the Russian Cathedral, many oddities compared with traditional Western Liturgy. A host of Alleluias (but then, I think the Alleluia was only suppressed during Lent and Passiontide in the West in the 11th century - which is, incidentally, something I approve of - it adds a certain rhythm to the liturgical cycle of prayer, rejoicing in good season, silence in times of penance), many people were making the Sign of the Cross in the <em>real</em> traditional way, that is, signing oneself with the index and middle fingers, representing the Two Natures in Christ, and with the ring and little fingers joined to the thumb, rather than the modern Greek praxis of joining the index and middle fingers to the thumb. I do this myself, except I do it according to the Western order - from left to right rather than right to left. You see this fashion in traditional Iconography, and in Western statues of Our Lord imparting blessing. The vestments were exquisite, although in the dim light the colour could not easily be determined (although the Easterners do not really have a system of liturgical ''colours'' as in the West), and present were two Bishops, the Protodeacon incensing the image of the Lord constantly, four priests (gathered around the two Bishops like <em>pluvialistae</em> around the Celebrant at Vespers during the Chapter), two taper-bearers (? I think this is what they were; they were bearing those triple candles and standing either side of the image of our Crucified Lord), and a young server. The <em>solita oscula</em> was not omitted when handing things to and taking them from the Bishop...I am being ignorant, confessedly, but these small things make me prefer traditional Western Liturgy even more. Eastern Liturgy changes little throughout the year (except the Readings), and I like the changes that happen in the Western liturgical year, <em>in tempora opportuno</em> etc.</div><br /><div>My parents are both at work today, so I have been on my own since I got in from Mass, but the day has been lovely so far. I much prefer the <em>Vidi Aquam</em> to the <em>Asperges</em>. I am going now to have some well-deserved (I think I deserve it anyway) repose, reading, catch up on various things etc. Back to work Tuesday...sigh...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-72495353251944598982010-03-31T12:05:00.003+01:002010-03-31T12:57:47.879+01:00Maxima Redemptionis...<div>For those of you who are interested, the text of the General Decree of the S.R.C (a nasty wretched little oligarchy, staffed with idiots), <em>Maxima Redemptionis</em>, of November 1955, can be read on the new, highly useful, section of the Vatican official website, <em>Acta Apostolicae Sedis</em>. It can be found on pp. 838-847. The text is in Latin.</div><br /><div><br /><div>I post this now since after this I really will be away! Having failed my Lenten fast and other penances miserably, I shall endeavour with God's Grace to make up for this for the Sacred Triduum. I shall try to get to as much Liturgy as I am able, but one or two inconvenient things will prevent this. Maundy Thursday I shall be at the Russian Cathedral for Hours and Vesperal Liturgy of St Basil. Unfortunately I cannot attend Mattins of the Passion (complete with twelve Gospel pericopes) since I shall be elsewhere in the afternoon. On Good Friday morning I shall be among the Greeks at Moscow Road for Hours and Vespers of the Un-nailing. If I have time, I shall pay a visit to the Armenians at Kensington for the solemn Burial of the Cross. Then elsewhere for the rest of Good Friday. Holy Saturday morning I shall again be among the Russians for Hours and Vesperal Liturgy (with fifteen Prophecies) and then in the evening I shall return home (that is, Westwards) for the Paschal Vigil. Unfortunately I won't be able to attend Pontifical Mattins and Lauds of the Resurrection, as I greatly desired, this year, owing to yet more unfortunate circumstances.</div><br /><div><br /><div>In the meantime, I am off to Tenebrae. Unfortunately the Psalms for Lauds will be incorrect, but you can thank Pius X for that...<br />I wish all readers a blessed Triduum and every blessing for the Paschal season. Dominus det vobis suam pacem in osculo amoris; habete, me, precor, in orationibus vestris in hoc tempore, quia misericordia Iesu indigeo, et familiam meam. Laus sit Domino nostro Crucifixo, qui de Cruce regnat. Valete. </div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-20899781374224889282010-03-30T13:09:00.005+01:002010-04-01T14:15:08.884+01:00Which is more catholic?I have added this blog to my Blogroll: <a href="http://anglicanexfide.blogspot.com/">Ex Fide</a>, the blog of an ''enthusiastic'' Anglo-Catholic. I was alerted to their liturgically exquisite <a href="http://anglicanexfide.blogspot.com/2010/03/palm-sunday-in-pre-pian-rite.html">Palm Sunday Liturgy</a> by both Fr Hunwicke and Rubricarius. Do also have a look at the preview of their <a href="http://anglicanexfide.blogspot.com/2010/03/exclusive-preview-of-black-folded.html">Black Folded Chasubles</a>. I can't say I approve much of Anglicans, and I find Anglo-Catholics very strange indeed (Tolkien couldn't stand them), but I feel compelled to ask: which is more ''catholic'' - a parish church in schism with the liturgical history and traditions of its See (i.e; almost every Catholic parish church in the world), or a parish church <em>legally</em> in schism with Rome, but with more liturgical sense than Rome? This is not so complex a question as you might think. All you need to do is get ideas of ''validity'' and externals out of your head. Since, according to the <em>lex orandi</em>, ceremony and liturgy are the factors that determine what one believes, ceremonial, passed down by an unbroken and living Tradition, certainly uninterrupted by liturgists and popes, surely the Anglo-Catholics at <a href="http://www.stmagnusmartyr.org.uk/">St Magnus the Martyr</a> are more catholic than most who profess to be Catholics? To quietly go on accepting novelty, to me, indicates a fundamental flaw in one's acceptance of Truth and Liturgy, and is also indicative of a rather slovenly approach to Liturgy (and therefore God). To cut a long story short, it means you accept violence against Liturgy as acceptable, and indeed praiseworthy, because Rome says so...would that traditional priests in the '50s and '60s, not bowed down by Ultramontanism, had said: ''I don't care what Rome said, I am observing the Octave.'' What does St Thomas Aquinas say about obedience to one's superiors again? <em>In all things but sin?</em><br /><br />Perhaps the Lord vouchsafes to send the Holy Ghost down upon the Altars of those legally in schism with Rome, and ignores those pseudo-Catholics who obliquely recite the Nicene Creed at New Rite services (I cannot bring myself to call it liturgy, it's so far removed from that), not believing a single word of it, every Sunday, use ''Eucharistic Prayer III'' and enjoy shaking eachothers' hands? I would have no qualms at all about attending St Magnus the Martyr over such a church - at least St Magnus has Liturgy. In all honesty, I wonder whether Anglo-Catholics are all that interested in <em>Anglicanorum Coetibus</em>. I am sure they look around Rome and see all the similar signs as they see in their own schismatic church, liberals here, modernists there, plus a host of vegetarians, homosexuals, climate-change fanatics, women-getting-above-themselves etc. All this, plus Traditionalism, is because of the collapse of Traditional Liturgy. For this very reason <em>Anglicanorum Coetibus</em> might end up being another has-been, a fruitless effort by Rome to pick the pieces up after the damages wrought by Low Mass, Ultramontanism and Bugninis...but one can hope still.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-53286178090092824212010-03-28T22:36:00.002+01:002010-03-28T23:49:38.814+01:00Two Tolkien snippets...on '62...While Tolkien's (published) works contain few references to the Liturgy, there are a few gems if you look closely. I have already posted some of these; these latest are simply applicable. Rubricarius of <a href="http://ordorecitandi.blogspot.com/">The St Lawrence Press</a> has, in his post for Palm Sunday, written a rightfully scathing, and honest, comparison between the Old Rite and the <em>Extraordinary Form</em> of the New Rite. Read it <a href="http://ordorecitandi.blogspot.com/2010/03/dominica-in-palmis-palm-sunday.html">here</a>. For the Tridentine praxis, which is ceremonially identical, see <a href="http://thetridentinerite.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-15th-dominica-in-palmis-palm.html">here</a>. It's even worse than the usual story of omissions here, alterations there; practically the whole ceremony has been mutilated.<br /><br />Reading about Palm Sunday rather put me in mind of a passage from <em>The Lord of the Rings</em> (which I have not read yet this year, no wonder I feel like I'm forgetting things). See if you can see where I'm coming from:<br /><br />''At last, on the fifth morning since they took the road with Gollum, they halted once more. Before them dark in the dawn the great mountains reached up to roofs of smoke and cloud. Out from their feet were flung huge buttresses and broken hills that were now at the nearest scarce a dozen miles away. Frodo looked round in horror. Dreadful as the Dead Marshes had been, and the arid moors of the Noman-lands, more loathsome far was the country that the crawling day now slowly unveiled to his shrinking eyes. Even to the Mere of Dead Faces some haggard phantom of green spring would come; but here neither spring nor summer would ever come again. Here nothing lived, not even the leprous growths that feed on rottenness. The gasping pools were choked with ash and crawling muds, sickly white and grey, as if the mountains had vomited the filth of their entrails upon the lands about. High mounds of crushed and powdered rock, great cones of earth fire-blasted and poison-stained, stood like an obscene graveyard in endless rows, slowly revealed in the reluctant light.<br /><br />''They had come to the desolation that lay before Mordor: the lasting monument to the dark labour of its slaves that should endure when all their purposes were made void; a land defiled, diseased beyond all healing - unless the Great Sea should enter in and wash it with oblivion. 'I feel sick,' said Sam. Frodo did not speak.'' (<em>The Lord of the Rings, Book IV, Chapter II</em>).<br /><br />This next passage comes from <em>The Letters of J.R.R Tolkien</em>, oddly enough, from the late 1950s. On 8th April 1958, Tolkien had written to Rayner Unwin, his publisher, about negotiations of the proposed film adaptation of <em>The Lord of the Rings</em>. Tolkien's criticism is highly pertinent if you would like an idea of what he'd think of the Peter Jackson trilogy. He complains that ''Morton Grady Zimmerman'' [...I know...], the man who composed the synopsis and ''story-line'' (a term Tolkien didn't seem to understand) had not in fact read <em>The Lord of the Rings</em> and had composed a bad synopsis based upon confused memories, with few references to the original story, and with constant mistakes (getting names wrong - or even misplacing them: Radagast becomes an Eagle, for instance. I wonder if Mr Jackson suffered this slovenly malady when he was making his film trilogy, now almost a decade old? In one of the completely made-up scenes from <em>The Two Towers</em>, you see a village of Rohan being attacked by Orcs, or Wild-men from Dunland (I forget - it's probably Orcs since Jackson sometimes conveniently forgets the existence of evil Men), and a mother admonishing her son and daughter to ride to the king's courts at Edoras. The horse's name appears to be Gárulf, which is rather a strange name for an horse (it is Anglo-Saxon for ''spear-wolf''), and in the Book was a man of Éomer's <em>éored</em>, who was sent to intercept the company of Saruman's Orcs returning to Isengard...very strange). Anyway, in the next letter in this series of <em>The Letters</em>, Tolkien writes to Forrest J. Ackerman (the film company rep) and goes through Zimmerman's story-line bit by bit. Unfortunately, only a portion of the original survives into <em>The Letters</em> (I'd love to see the original), but even this is very interesting (and amusing - in the previous letter, Tolkien had promised to be reticent - if this is reticence, then I'm a Dwarf!).<br /><br />The conclusion of this letter is most delightful. See what you think:<br /><br />''Part III....<em>is totally unacceptable to me, as a whole and in detail</em>. If it is meant as notes only for a section of something like the pictorial length of I and II, then in the filling out it must be brought into relation with the book, and its gross alterations of that corrected. If it is meant to represent only a kind of short finale, then all I can say is: <em>The Lord of the Rings</em> cannot be garbled like that.'' (<em>The Letters of J.R.R Tolkien, no 210</em>).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-20507482400762410882010-03-28T15:46:00.002+01:002010-03-28T15:52:47.628+01:00Post omission...I was counselled earlier to delete a comment I wrote following a post on Traditionalists. I am not sure how Blogger does that so I have deleted the whole post instead. I doubt I shall post anything for the duration of Holy Week. I am ''going East'' for much of Holy Week (what does that say about the modern Catholic Church, when one is obliged to attend a schismatic church for more appropriate Liturgy? Don't let's worry though; Modernists and pseudo-traddies will one day smell the brimstone), and for much of it I shall be too tired to post anything anyway.<br /><br />I shall return, Lord willing, on Easter Sunday...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-19743966921382037272010-03-27T16:10:00.003+00:002010-03-27T16:50:37.221+00:00Narn i Chîn Húrin, the Intro...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQGIpfsadMKmJt3p97k8Rc_zTwyln2KQ9ZDZxw8vbkE9P-3bYV9bNhe3w23LsbRVrxpJL4AA5aq7VidRrc3yAuXv_Fes0h4cABKbjRM6iiW-_iWqJhho3HppLtxBxQzwvA_bJCtJE1xbv/s1600/The+Children+of+Hurin.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453357020838315202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQGIpfsadMKmJt3p97k8Rc_zTwyln2KQ9ZDZxw8vbkE9P-3bYV9bNhe3w23LsbRVrxpJL4AA5aq7VidRrc3yAuXv_Fes0h4cABKbjRM6iiW-_iWqJhho3HppLtxBxQzwvA_bJCtJE1xbv/s400/The+Children+of+Hurin.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We come now to the longest of the great Lays about the Elder Days, the <em>Narn i Chîn Húrin</em>, or The Tale of the Children of Húrin. Incidentally, <em>''chîn''</em> is pronounced ''k-heen;'' you'll find in <em>Unfinished Tales</em> (the book from which I first read the tale in prose) the rather curious spelling ''Hîn'' - this was an editorial decision of Christopher Tolkien, which he later regretted, to prevent people from pronouncing the word like the modern English ''chin.'' I am not going to blog from <em>The Silmarillion</em> but rather from the recently published (well, if you count 2007 as recent) <em>The Children of Húrin,</em> which is far more detailed and coherent. When I brought this book, in the hardback first edition (with beautiful illustrations by Alan Lee), I was amazed that Tolkien was still being published in my lifetime (the 12 Volume <em>The History of Middle-earth</em> series was published by Christopher Tolkien from 1984-1996, but I was too young to remember those - or even if I could remember them, too young at any rate to appreciate them - they are very scholarly)!</div><br /><div>First, I think we should establish some dates, something I have neglected too much in my hopelessly long synopsis of these days. The <em>Narn</em> is essentially the story of Túrin Turambar and his sister Nienor, the children of Húrin and Morwen. According to the Grey Annals Túrin was born ''in the winter of the year'', ''with omens of sorrow;'' that is, the 464th year after the first rising of the Sun, nine years after Morgoth broke the Siege of Angband in the Dagor Bragollach. The Nirnaeth Arnoediad took place in the spring of the 472nd year, when Túrin was 8 years old...I expect this sets the scene so far, if I think any more dates are required, I'll insert them in somewhere.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-16822568521390078352010-03-26T14:12:00.002+00:002010-03-26T15:54:41.631+00:00Even more Traddies...More questions about Catholic ''traditionalism''...Traddies are fond of Pope Benedict XVI (as am I, I think he is a very pious and erudite man), but are they not overly fond of him? They go on and on about <em>Summorum Pontificum</em>, even dubbing it <em>the</em> Motu Proprio (as if it were the only one in Church history!), and celebrate the '62 Rite merrily ''because the Pope says so''...maybe I am being rather fickle in thinking that since when did you need the Pope's <em>permission</em> to celebrate Mass? Personally, I am not in favour of <em>Summorum Pontificum.</em> Not only does it say nothing about the Old Rite (the Holy Father <em>does</em> go through a succession of Popes, beginning with Gregory the Great, and he mentions the Missal of Pius V in passing, but it's all about '62), but it also espouses a kind of pseudo, hitherto unfounded in the Latin West, ''theology'' of Liturgy, manifested in the distinction the Holy Father makes between the so-called <em>forma extraordinaria</em> and <em>forma ordinaria</em> of the Roman Rite. There should be no such distinction. The New Rite should not be the ''Ordinary form'' of the Church's <em>lex orandi</em>; it should not exist at all; it is in fact the bane of my life. I am afraid that I must re-echo the sentiments of Andrew Cameron-Mowat (Professor of Liturgy at Heythrop College): that there can be only one Roman Rite in the Catholic Church - the different ''expressions'' of this one Roman Rite being determined by legitimate local (national, diocesan, even parochial) custom. Where I disagree with him is that this one Roman Rite should be the Old Roman Rite, as it has been celebrated and honoured in the West since the most ancient days. This alone should be reason enough to celebrate the Old Rite. <em>Summorum Pontificum</em> is just another example of Papal interference in Liturgy.<br /><br />This is not to say that I <em>completely</em> repudiate <em>Summorum Pontificum</em>, like so many liberal vegetarian homosexual teetotalers. I think there is only one benefit to <em>Summorum Pontificum</em>, and this is far over-shadowed by it's downsides: it has (''legitimately'' at any rate, not that Canon Law has much to do with Liturgy) freed the Old Mass, and does limit the power of liberal episcopal interference, but even this is barbed because this ''benefit'' is stimulated by an already false notion of Papal authority over Liturgy. What <em>Summorum Pontificum</em> has in fact done is relativised the Liturgy, made Liturgy subjective to preference, this preference being legitimised by the Pope himself! In pre-<em>Summorum Pontificum</em> days (which I remember well, unlike most modern Traddies - I was attending the Old Rite long before <em>Summorum Pontificum</em>), in the days when most Traditionalists were traditional, you went to the Old Rite and that was it - some with strong stomachs went to the New Rite on Sundays, but I had nothing to do with it. These days, in the days of the ''Extraordinary Form'', Catholics ''prefer'' (instead of repudiate) one ''expression'' of the <em>lex orandi</em> to the other. My attitude towards the New Rite was stupidly called ''wrong'' by a Traddie simply because I said that the New Rite was made-up liturgy. However, surely even to ''prefer'' one ''expression'' to the other means that you at least subconsciously think that there is something wrong with one?<br /><br />I am being rushed off the family computer now so this post is going to end miserably since my thought has been disrupted. I hope I have demonstrated (baldly, I'll admit) the dangers of Ultramontanism and Liturgy. It is a great monster don't you know. As Faramir said of Minas Tirith: the Church is not a mistress of slaves, even a kind mistress of willing slaves. Apropos, <em>Summorum Pontificum</em> is inherently flawed, and you won't find this sort of post on the blog of any Traditionalist...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-80755648966677339142010-03-25T11:55:00.003+00:002010-03-25T12:32:07.580+00:00The realm of Sauron is ended!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwbYicKEzJDZ_8iRS-2fX9-f_09Bavlu3uGezMkaVWByYvRdxWYWWicWyTr3RSkJDR6cnJeaMakdN0Hx-lWtlupLK6NxDtL4NvVJWuMjXOTlhDh8CN_ncWIvc1SS5zkjWqutYk9vQOSVQ/s1600/The+Shadow+of+Sauron.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452548220572411490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwbYicKEzJDZ_8iRS-2fX9-f_09Bavlu3uGezMkaVWByYvRdxWYWWicWyTr3RSkJDR6cnJeaMakdN0Hx-lWtlupLK6NxDtL4NvVJWuMjXOTlhDh8CN_ncWIvc1SS5zkjWqutYk9vQOSVQ/s400/The+Shadow+of+Sauron.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Happy Feast day all. The 25th March is a very significant day, not only in the infinite dimensions of our Redemption, but also for Tolkien. It is also believed (by some, I don't know enough to comment) to be the actual date of Our Lord's Crucifixion. You may remember that 25th March was the day on which the One Ring was destroyed; you may also remember that the day on which the Fellowship set out from Rivendell was 25th December. Presumptuous though it may seem for one so blackened by sin to comment upon the Incarnation, I venture to say that I am eternally grateful to God. I'm sorry I couldn't come up with some fantastic and insightful post today, but I am just an instrument. What I would recommend, though, is reading Stratford Caldecott's chapter <em>A very great story, The Lord of the Rings</em>, in his book Secret Fire. He compares the heroic virtues of Frodo (showed forth in weakness and humility rather than the more conventional heroes of legend) to Christ in many more ways than I could have imagined. This quote from The Field of Cormallen will have to suffice:</div><br /><div>'''Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and greathearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.'</div><br /><div>''And when Sam heard that he laughed aloud for sheer delight, and he stood up and cried: 'O great glory and splendour! And all my wishes have come true!' And then he wept.</div><br /><div>''And all the host laughed and wept, and in the midst of their merriment and tears the clear voice of the minstrel rose like silver and gold, and all men were hushed. And he sang to them, now in the Elven-tongue, now in the speech of the West, until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.'' (<em>The Lord of the Rings, Book VI, Chapter IV, The Field of Cormallen</em>).</div><br /><div>Art: <a href="http://www.tednasmith.com/lotr3/TN-The_Shadow_of_Sauron.html#tsos">Ted Nasmith.</a> It depicts the end of Sauron's realm and his great shadow, rising up in towers of gloom, terrifying but impotent. Upon Gandalf, however, no shadow fell.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-49681310300773299202010-03-24T22:42:00.002+00:002010-03-24T22:48:30.610+00:00More ''traddies''...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfA14tJFikPjG9CT0uvFXC6fRnnawW2nRVXxXXpsx1BM9_493vmWR5Qs7J31ROIhWFXKMdKcWbExoQNKimADgvwBgLaamJe3OLP16MrBsBBp3ubZEEAwea-VgCufBzIRZvOJvJWzCpA5U-/s1600/Paul+VI.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452335968962999282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfA14tJFikPjG9CT0uvFXC6fRnnawW2nRVXxXXpsx1BM9_493vmWR5Qs7J31ROIhWFXKMdKcWbExoQNKimADgvwBgLaamJe3OLP16MrBsBBp3ubZEEAwea-VgCufBzIRZvOJvJWzCpA5U-/s400/Paul+VI.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A question...does liturgical complacency, that is, willingness to stupidly accept novelty alongside tradition as two things that can co-exist in a comfortable relativistic fudge (in other words, any difference there might be between Old and New Rite doesn't matter, since they are ''two forms of the same Roman Rite'' - this includes '62 of course) entail a moral or an intellectual suicide, or both?</div><br /><div>This constitutes my first objection to ''Catholic Traditionalism'' - other such questions will follow soon...</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-86654099027217485332010-03-24T10:22:00.004+00:002010-03-24T10:51:24.177+00:00The aftermath of the Battle...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtopyjkQXsQSYhBdT2tHCrMjTV9jscjwSTxPosRUXXp-szpxf28ryJNyKiy046R4Oubqn56ZEJrqf82BQAe9A5VmJVHqbAMIQEpeXHgzfQhzzgQbdmKZN-nYcUIHrNrDBKpPzjQORpsZt/s1600/Hill+of+Slain.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452151118545280258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtopyjkQXsQSYhBdT2tHCrMjTV9jscjwSTxPosRUXXp-szpxf28ryJNyKiy046R4Oubqn56ZEJrqf82BQAe9A5VmJVHqbAMIQEpeXHgzfQhzzgQbdmKZN-nYcUIHrNrDBKpPzjQORpsZt/s400/Hill+of+Slain.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Great was the triumph of Morgoth, and his victory was achieved in a manner after his own heart; for Men took the lives of Men, and betrayed the Eldar, and fear and hatred were aroused among those who should have been united against him. In those days, the hearts of the Elves were estranged from Men, save those of the Three Houses.</div><br /><div>The kingdom of Fingon was no more, and the Sons of Fëanor, bereft of their power of old, wandered as waifs of the wood and mingled with the lesser silvan Elves. In Brethil, few of the people of Haleth dwelt yet in the protection of the woods, and Handir was their lord; but to Hithlum came back none of Fingon's host, nor any Man of Hador's House, but Morgoth sent hither the vile Easterlings, denying them the rich lands of Beleriand which they desired, and he shut them in the cold lands, and forbade them to ever leave it. Such was their reward for their service to Morgoth. The remnant of the Eldar of Hithlum, save some few who hid themselves, were taken to Angband and were there enthralled, although some escaped the mines and wandered hopelessly in the wild.</div><br /><div>The Orcs and wolves went throughout all the North freely, even as far as Nan Tathren, and none were safe in field or wild. Doriath, secure by the Girdle of enchantment set there by Melian almost five hundred years before, of course remained, as did Nargothrond, but Morgoth troubled not about them, either knowing little of them or because their time had not yet come within the dark designs of his mind. Many fled Beleriand in those days, some to dwell with Círdan's people at the Havens, some fled eastwards beyond the Blue Mountains into Eriador. But in the following year, Morgoth sent great strength over Hithlum and Nevrast, and coming down the rivers Brithon and Nenning, they ravaged all the shoreland regions and besieged the walls of Brithombar and Eglarest. Smiths, miners and masters of fire they brought with them, and valiantly though their onslaught was stayed, in the end they broke the walls down and destroyed the Havens, and most of Círdan's people were enslaved or slain. Some went aboard ship and escaped by sea, and among them were Ereinion Gil-galad, son of Fingon, and this remnant sailed with Círdan to the Isle of Balar, and there they made a refuge for all that could come, keeping still a well-hidden foothold among the reeds of Sirion's mouth.</div><br /><div>When Turgon, High King of the Gnomes, heard of these things he sent messengers to the Mouths of Sirion who besought the aid of Círdan the Shipwright. At the bidding of Turgon Círdan built seven ships, and they sailed into the West to beg the clemency of the Valar upon the sorrows of the Elves, but they came never back, save one. The mariners of this ship toiled long in the sea, and despairing turned back, and at last they foundered in a great storm within sight of the shores of Beleriand, but one was saved by Ulmo, who cast him ashore at Nevrast. His name was Voronwë.</div><br /><div>By the command of Morgoth the Orcs with great labour piled all the bodies of the slain with their weapons and livery in Anfauglith into a great mound, and it was like a hill seen from afar. Haudh-en-Ndengin it was named by the Elves, the Hill of the Slain, and grass came to grow there after a while, alone in all the dust of that plain, and thereafter no creature of Morgoth dared to tread there, where the swords of the Eldar and the Edain crumbled into rust.</div><br /><div>Art: <a href="http://www.tednasmith.com/silmarillion/TN-The_Hill_of_Slain.html#thos">Ted Nasmith.</a> It depicts Rían, the wife of Huor (who was slain with a poisoned arrow in the eye in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad), standing before the Hill of the Slain.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-38116198605322931782010-03-21T16:26:00.002+00:002010-03-21T16:37:07.063+00:00Visitations...Fr Hunwicke, the Anglican clergyman from Oxford, has once again spoken with more sense than many who are accounted ''traditional'' in the Catholic blogosphere. See <a href="http://liturgicalnotes.blogspot.com/2010/03/apostolic-visitations-in-ireland.html">here</a> for his succinct post on the Apostolic visitations and the Papacy. He is very right about the Papacy you know. While I uphold the dignity of local churches over nasty little oligarchies (S.R.Cs and Consiliums) and tyrants (bad Popes), Fr Hunwicke rightly says that these Apostolic visitations are exactly what are needed because this is what the Papacy is for - to strengthen and encourage the brethren, to discipline those who are clearly at fault, to depose, to excommunicate etc. We often forget St Paul's connexion to the Papacy, but I fail to see why; whenever a Feast of St Peter is celebrated, there are Prayers also to God through St Paul...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-65049740891435717482010-03-20T17:32:00.003+00:002010-03-20T17:54:33.217+00:00A tragedy...I was speaking to a friend of mine recently about the tragedy of practicing Catholics coming from a secular family. When they die, and they have not specifically indicated their funeral arrangements in a will or however those things work, naturally the funeral arrangements are left to the secular family, who may have a deep-seated contempt for the Faith, or who may simply (and this is most likely to be the case) not know the first thing about Catholic funerals. What follows will depend upon how much or little they know, the discretion and prudence of the priest (if there is one - the secular, and therefore stupid, family may not even organise a Requiem Mass) and other circumstances. My grandfather had this problem when he died in 2001. My grandfather, a man who took pride in the fact that he had not missed a single Sunday Mass in his life, was sent to his long home to the sound of <em>All Things Bright and Beautiful</em>. I have seen far worse than this at a funeral, but I came away afterwards (I was 13 at the time, and then knew merely the rudiments of Liturgy) feeling very sour for my grandfather. He was also cremated, specifically against his wishes.<br /><br />Why do I get the feeling that when I die (which could well be tomorrow, or later today, to be grim) this is exactly what will happen to me? Yea more...mine is the sort of family that, knowing my liturgical orthodoxy, would (out of sheer spite) just go to any Modernist priest and have a New Rite requiem with 1970s hymns gallore, and a sort of ''prayer service'' at the crematorium afterwards...that is if they do this much for me. It is necessary to think how far hatred can go...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-46202169985280056882010-03-19T15:22:00.003+00:002010-03-19T16:57:37.133+00:00Nirnaeth Arnoediad...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8dEvmCmrddT-pKpziH2lAf7HZ0mij2rgAhEKXY79ip9QaaovCvwZ0mmqWkQmNx70vRBg4liaSVc_vHC9wD7xfJRyoHKbhjrdIZKJkDFCQOJUiGTwmeLduCq1uI-AZEzSsrp_YWRIBHo6/s1600-h/Gothmog.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450389990976502258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 303px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8dEvmCmrddT-pKpziH2lAf7HZ0mij2rgAhEKXY79ip9QaaovCvwZ0mmqWkQmNx70vRBg4liaSVc_vHC9wD7xfJRyoHKbhjrdIZKJkDFCQOJUiGTwmeLduCq1uI-AZEzSsrp_YWRIBHo6/s400/Gothmog.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>On the appointed day of the battle, on the morning of Midsummer, the trumpets of the Eldar greeted the rising of the Sun, and eastwards was raised the standard of Fëanor; westwards the standard of Fingon, High King of the Gnomes. Fingon looked out from the walls of Eithel Sirion. His hosts were arrayed in the valleys and the woods upon the slopes of Ered Wethrin, concealed from the roving eye of Morgoth, and the host was very great for all the people of Hithlum were there assembled, as well as Elves from the Falas and Gwindor's company from Nargothrond, as well as a host of Men under the lordship of Húrin, and of Huor his brother, and to them were gathered also the Men of Brethil. And Fingon looked towards Thangorodim, and from those reeking towers there went up a black smoke, and he knew then that the wrath of Morgoth was aroused and their challenge accepted.</div><br /><div>But doubt then pierced Fingon's heart, and he looked across Anfauglith, thinking so as to see the hosts of Maedhros. But he saw him not. He knew not that Maedhros was hindered by the treachery of Uldor, who deceived him with false warnings of assault from Angband.<br /></div><br /><div>But then a cry went up, and the hearts of Elves and Men were lifted in joy. For unsummoned and unlooked for Turgon, the Hidden King, had opened the leaguer of Gondolin and had come with a host ten thousands strong. And when Fingon beheld his brother, all doubt left him and he cried aloud: <em>Utúlie'n aurë! Aiya Eldalië ar Atanatári, utúlie'n auré!</em> (The day has come! Behold, people of the Eldar and Fathers of Men, the day has come!) And all those to whom that cry came answered: <em>Auta i lómë!</em> (The night is passing!).</div><br /><div>But Morgoth, who knew much of the hidden counsels of the Gnomes, chose his hour to a nicety, and trusting to the treachery of the Easterlings, he sent a host seeming great (although only a tithe of his real might) towards Hithlum, showing no naked steel that their coming would not be marked until they were far afield. When they were seen, the hearts of the Gnomes grew hot, and many desired to assail the host, but Húrin spoke against this, bidding them ware the wiles of Morgoth, whose strength and purpose were always other than they seemed. But the signal of Maedhros came not, and many grew afraid and impatient, but still Húrin bade them wait, and to let the Orcs break in assault upon the hills.</div><br /><div>But the Captain of Morgoth in the west had been commanded to draw out the hosts of Fingon at whatever cost, and so he marched his host to the edge of Sirion's stream, to the walls of Eithel Sirion and the outposts of Fingon could see the eyes of their enemies. But the taunting of the Orcs availed not to draw them out. And so the captain sent out riders with tokens of parley, bringing Gelmir son of Guilin with them (he was a lord of Nargothrond captured in the Dagor Bragollach and enslaved in Angband), and he had been blinded. The heralds showed him forth, crying: ''We have many more such at home, but you must make haste if you would find them; for we shall deal with them all when we return even so.'' And they hewed off Gelmir's hands and feet, and his head last, and left him.</div><br /><div>By ill chance, Gwindor the brother of Gelmir saw this and now his wrath was kindled to madness, and he leapt upon horseback, and many riders with him, and they pursued the heralds and slew them and then drove on into the main host. And seeing this the Gnomes were set on fire and all leapt from the hills in sudden onslaught. So swift was this onslaught that almost the designs of Morgoth went astray, and before the host he had sent westward could be strengthened, it was destroyed, and the Gnomes passed even within the threshold of Angband and slew the guards, and Morgoth, hearing them beat upon his doors, trembled upon his deep throne. But the Gnomes were trapped there, and all were slain (save Gwindor, whom they took captive), and Fingon could not come to their aid. And then, by many secret doors from Angband, Morgoth sent forth his main host, and Fingon was driven back across Anfauglith with great loss.</div><br /><div>And so on the fourth day of the battle was begun <em>Nirnaeth Arnoediad</em>, Unnumbered Tears. The host of Fingon was driven back over the sands, and Haldir, Lord of Brethil, was slain in the rearguard, and all his men about him. The Orcs surrounded the hosts of Hithlum and they fought all through the night. In the morning came hope, for Turgon was come with his host. The phalanx of the guard of the King broke through the ranks of the Orcs, and Turgon came to Fingon his brother and Húrin Thalion, and in that hour the trumpets of Maedhros were heard in the east, and the Orcs wavered and some were already turning to flight. But even as Maedhros came, and the Orcs fled the field, Morgoth sent forth all his strength and Angband was emptied. There came wolves and wolf-riders, and there came then Balrogs and dragons and Glaurung sire of dragons. The strength and terror of the Great Worm were then very great and Elves and Men withered before him. He came between the hosts of Fingon and Maedhros and divided them.</div><br /><div>But Morgoth would not have won the day by the strength and terror of his demons alone, for in this hour the guile of the Easterlings was revealed. Many turned and fled, being filled with fear and lies, but some turned suddenly upon the hosts of Elves and Men and in the confusion that was wrought they came well-nigh to the standard of Maedhros. And in that hour new strength of the Easterlings came over the hills and assailed the hosts of Maedhros upon the east, who was now almost surrounded, and many fled. But fate saved the Sons of Fëanor, and gathering together the remnant of the Gnomes and Dwarves, they drove their way out of the battle and made east towards Mount Dolmed.</div><br /><div>Last of all the eastern host to stand firm were the Dwarves of Belegost, for the Dwarves withstood fire and blast of sorcery more hardily than Men and Elves, moreover they wore great and hideous masks in battle. They made a circle about Glaurung and even his mighty armour was not full-proof against the blows of the axes of the Dwarves, and when in his rage Glaurung struck down Azaghâl, Lord of Belegost, and crawled over him, with his last breath Azaghâl drove a knife into the belly of the Dragon, so wounding him that he fled the field, and in dismay the beasts of Angband followed. Then the Dwarves raised up the body of their lord and bore it away, chanting a dirge as they went, and none dared withstand them.</div><br /><div>In the western battle Fingon and Turgon were beset by a host of foes thrice greater than their own and Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, was come. He drove a dark wedge between the Elvenhosts, surrounding Fingon and thrusting Turgon and Húrin aside towards the Fen of Serech. Then he turned upon Fingon. At last, Fingon stood alone against Gothmog, his guard dead about him, and Gothmog beat him down into the dust, and his banner, blue and silver, he trod into the mire of his blood.</div><br /><div>The field was lost to the hosts of Morgoth, but still in the west Húrin and Huor his brother stood strong alongside Turgon, now High King of the Gnomes, and the hosts of Morgoth could not yet win the Pass of Sirion. And Húrin bade Turgon go back to Gondolin and there lie hid, for thereby Morgoth would still know fear, and Huor added this doom: ''This I say to you, lord, with the eyes of death: though we part here for ever, and I shall not look on your white walls again, from you and from me a new star shall arise. Farewell!'' Maeglin, Turgon's nephew, who was stood nearby, heard these words, and he did not forget them, but he said nothing. And so Turgon departed, gathering such remnants of his host as he could, and they returned to the mountains. But the Men of Dor-lómin would still not retreat, and the last stand of the Men of Dor-lómin redressed the treachery of Uldor.</div><br /><div>The hosts of Morgoth swarmed against the Men of Dor-lómin, and Huor was slain with a venomed arrow in the eye. Last of all Húrin stood alone, and he cast aside his shield, and wielding a great axe he slew the troll-guard of Gothmog until the axe withered. Each time he slew an Orc he cried: <em>Aurë entuluva!</em> (Day shall come again!); seventy times he uttered that cry, but at last he was taken alive, for the Orcs grappled him, and their arms clung still to him though he hewed them off, until he was buried under them. Then Gothmog bound him and dragged him to Angband with mockery.</div><br /><div>Thus ended <em>Nirnaeth Arnoediad</em> as the sun went down in the West. Night fell over the northern lands, and a great storm of wind came out of the West.</div><br /><div>Art: <a href="http://www.tednasmith.com/silmarillion/index.html">Ted Nasmith.</a> This painting depicts the battle of Fingon, High King of the Gnomes, with Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-61605423378802554672010-03-17T21:31:00.006+00:002010-03-17T22:32:11.355+00:00More questions of liturgy...<div>Instead of having the New Rite, why don't priests just say the Old Rite in English? - that is, English of an Elizabethan/Cranmerian style, or if not, at least a style of English that is at least superficially removed from that of the pubs and the streets (Vulgar Latin was spoken in Roman brothels too)...slippery slope here though, vis-à-vis, the idea of a ''liturgical language'' - what would be the point of Latin if the Old Rite were in fact in the mother tongue? Well, for that matter, what would be the point of Liturgy if the language of the Rite, which is fundamentally a ''mystery'' (a kind of ''sacrament'' of its own right - not that I account Liturgy as an ''eighth'' sacrament, but it is the most important thing in the Church, the mediator of all Graces) were far removed from the ancestral, Sacramental, civilised tongue, the language of lore and culture? Does Latin ''adorn'' Liturgy and make it wonderful, or vice versa? Or does this question have any value in liturgical dialectic at all? Where does understanding in the literal sense come into Liturgy? Is ''understanding'', taken to mean in the Scholastic ideal, really for the Christian man?</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I think I am being over-bold in my questions about Liturgy, and very candid! But we must remember that Liturgy should never be discussed lightly, lest we lower ourselves to the likes of Bugnini. Liturgy is a matter to be thought about kneeling, and with a <em>Domine, non sum dignus</em> in the minds of those who discuss it. I sometimes think that Liturgy was never meant to be discussed about, just done (as a pious work, in charity and inspired by the Holy Ghost) out of the love of Christ, according to the rhythm of the Church's Kalendar...not out of imposition or Sabbatarianism.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>In one of his letters, J.R.R Tolkien complained of people saying ''my subject'' - that is, the subject that they adorn or make their own, project their ideas onto, and thereby make utterly obscene. I see self-styled ''liturgists'' in this context - people who do greater harm to the Church than good, in the vanity of their minds. Were I introduced to someone, and they said they were a liturgist, I think I would say: ''I don't have any idea what that means. Do you mean to say that you put the greatest treasure trove of the Church upon an operating table, cut it open, remove bits here, add bits there according to your whim, and do other acts of gross violence to the Church? Or do you mean to say that you make a living out of an equally spurious and reprehensible 'analysis' of Liturgy?'' There should be no such thing as a ''liturgist,'' nor other such unfortunate terms as ''liturgical theology'' etc. And as for ''trained'' liturgists!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8283827806066453969.post-66629095877184776172010-03-17T15:16:00.004+00:002010-03-17T15:38:51.733+00:00Sancti Patricii...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-invBpvqh4KLKghJBWwyTBSHszkuYI5EIh3rVkJaHUoRO7sn1WkMBlt86-6-7YiytRR-PJNddZ089HBusYX3F48V8qW28sekx_9q5vxwsWGQDyOy1_m4RDtQaZmoh-STgBvf_hTXJZVf/s1600-h/St+Patrick.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449627671185447746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9-invBpvqh4KLKghJBWwyTBSHszkuYI5EIh3rVkJaHUoRO7sn1WkMBlt86-6-7YiytRR-PJNddZ089HBusYX3F48V8qW28sekx_9q5vxwsWGQDyOy1_m4RDtQaZmoh-STgBvf_hTXJZVf/s400/St+Patrick.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Happy Feast day all! St Patrick (c.387/388-493) is of course my Patron saint. I was going to be Patrick anyway, so said my father, but it was just a coincidence that I was born on the eve of his feast day. I like the name Patrck, or <em>Patricius</em> (pronounced pat-ri<em>k</em>-i-us). St Patricius was a Romano-British aristocrat (a civilised barbarian, and hence the name), who naturally spoke Latin, and was captured by Irish pirates sometime in his youth. He escaped to Gaul, where he was ordained Deacon, and received prophetic dreams about the conversion of the Irish. He was sent to convert the Irish by Pope Celestine I (famous for excommunicating the heretic Nestorius), where he had many disciples.</div><br /><div>I believe that England owes much of the Apostolic faith to the Irish. Naturally when St Augustine and his followers came to these shores there were already small Christian communities dotted about the Isle, and St Columba, that great Saint who converted the Picts, came from Derry. Ireland used to be a very Catholic country (even today, if you have the opportunity to visit Ireland, you can still see some of the most beautiful churches; in the South there are many roadside shrines to Our Lady, although in the militant North, where my family are from, you will see little of this beyond road curbs being painted green white and gold and a good many murals!), although something went horribly wrong somewhere, and I never shared the Irish preference for Low Mass. St Patrick never celebrated Low Mass of course...although what sort of Liturgy did he celebrate?</div><br /><div>I wonder...is St Patrick to be accounted among of the Fathers of the Church? He is from the Patristic age, but I have never heard anyone refer to him (seriously that is, never mind about his Feast day) as one of the Fathers.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4