Women's ordination...

I'm not made of stone. I enjoyed The Vicar of Dibley just as much as the next bourgeois, metropolitan trendy. Brought to us by Richard Curtis (he of Four Weddings and a Funeral), the eponymous Rev. Granger is portrayed as a very nice woman (that's important), attractive, chubby, vivacious; qualities brought very much to life by the one and only Dawn French, and it's implied by Granger in the first episode that these are qualities one wouldn't ordinarily look to find in a typical male (presumably Evangelical) village parson with the words, "beard, Bible and bad breath." The conservative parishioners are portrayed as backward and dim-witted, or as stuffy old snobs. Eventually, as the series concludes, they all warm to her and the general consensus is: "well, women's ordination can't be that bad; we've had it rather good here." What a clever way to soften the blow of this revolutionary change in ecclesiastical polity: smother it with humour! I wonder if, when Francis or his bourgeois, metropolitan trendy successor ordains women, we'll see an Italian version of The Vicar of Dibley? No, I don't think we will. It wouldn't be as good as Dibley, and I really, really doubt if, by 2031, anyone will care that much about women's ordination in that private taboo and burden that a tiny remnant of "society" (if there is such a thing then) takes on themselves, which used to be called Christianity. Like Bibles in basic English, women's ordination seems to be a desperate trump card used by semi-Christian institutions to drag back a few curious, fair-weather Christians to the pews who, when they see the howling disaster of such a change, go back to secularism and materialism, even more disillusioned with the obvious charlatonry of mainstream Western churches and how irrelevant they are to their lives. Can you blame them?

Rome WILL ordain women...

Look at these disgusting harridans...

I predict that within the next fifteen years women will be ministering, as priests, in Roman Catholic parishes. This is very good news indeed, not because I am in favour of women's ordination but because any move by pope Francis to undermine the bogus "one true church" claim has my every sympathy, and I cannot wait to witness the the sullen whinging of all those charlatans and frauds, the tradunculi, and anybody else who believes in the crap as they themselves witness their beloved "church" go the way of the Church of England. And I don't think that "saint" John Paul II would be spinning in his grave either, or Ratzinger when he kicks his ecclesiastical clogs, and may that be soon.

You can read the news here. Thanks to Ad Orientem for the link.

Antiphons...

My friend Rubricarius sent me some proper antiphons for a martyr this morning which I read with delight. The first antiphon, Granum cadit, I thought rather pedestrian at first but when I read it back to myself that impression changed and I thought how Protestant my attitude was. This is the antiphon (in my translation):

The seed falleth and bringeth forth an abundance of grain; the alabaster jar is broken and its fragrance is released.

Seems rather sterile at first, doesn't it? No real insight here...but what a fool to think that! The antiphon is in praise of a martyr (of the Investiture Controversy, but leave that for the moment): this is fundamentally important. The two parts of the antiphon are truncated verses from the Gospel, from John 12:24,

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."

And Mark 14:3,

"And being in Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at meat, there came a woman having an alabaster box of ointment of spikenard very precious; and she brake the box, and poured it on his head."

This, right here, is the genius of the Roman Rite. I don't know enough about the theology of martyrdom to comment further, the crown of life and all that, so I'll let the antiphon unfold and take shape in your minds. But just think for a moment. The martyr died (like the seed), his body was broken (like the alabaster jar), and his blood (like spikenard) gushed forth. It's succinct, rich and uplifting. My mind is ennobled just to read the words. This antiphon was no doubt composed by some devout, prayerful monk with a clear grasp of Scripture, and its use in churches (at Vespers, not constant Mass) served exactly the same purpose for the people of the time gone by as it did for me this very morning. And it is Old, as old as the bloody hills; not quite as old as Sts Philip and James which some perfidious types are celebrating to-day out of time, out of dark to the day's condemnation, but still much older than the spectacle of a man in white, leaning over a balcony as if to strike his devotees, and saying: "you must believe this, in exactly the way I am telling you."

Which, therefore, seems to you the more impressive? A liturgist (of the real, authentic kind, someone who prays and loves what he knows) composing this succinct antiphon, which is not overflowing with putative "correct" doctrine...or the other thing I have just described? And people accuse me of "liturgical fetishism" for being moved by such quaint things as...antiphons.

The martyr in question is Thomas of Canterbury, by the way.

Sovereignty vs Europe...

"I do not believe that this nation, which has maintained and defended its independence for a thousand years, will now submit to see it merged or lost. Nor did I become a Member of our sovereign Parliament in order to consent to that sovereignty being abated or transferred." Enoch Powell.

"Government, Whitehall, and the whole of Fleet Street are still trying to brainwash the British people, of all people, into believing that we are quite unfitted to exercise the same basic right of self-determination." Anthony Wedgwood Benn.

Many people who go to vote in the upcoming referendum on Britain's membership in the European Union will have immigration on their minds. I know this to be true of my family. I haven't decided yet on whether I am going to vote at all - I don't believe in referenda; the concept is repugnant to our constitution - if I do vote, it will be to come out. But the issue for me is not one of uncontrolled immigration (which a cessation will scarcely fix anyway), but a democratic principle, the principle of Britain's sovereignty as a nation, which is absolutely precious. A thousand years of history is in the balance, and I am not so apathetic about the United Kingdom that in fifty years time, when I am as dotard as the serfs of Hithlum under their own foreign masters, I will look back at June 2016 and say that I did nothing to uphold the principle of Britain's sovereignty, without a sense of regret. Of course, my conscience tells me that it matters not at all whether we leave the EU or not. The damage to our common morality, economy, constitution and general way of life has already been done, is irreparable and cannot be made as though it had never been. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't try and, despite the obvious risks and uncertainty, leaving the EU seems the best stimulant for a revival of Britain's greatness, to reassert our democratic rights on the world stage. The only other option would be for Britain to be absorbed into an anti-democratic, unaccountable continental oligarchy over which we have no veto, no control, no say; and what a pitiable end to a nation that has contributed so much in the way of literature, law, liberty and liturgy.

Of course, we won't leave the European Union. It is almost inconceivable. The "out" campaign has no credible establishment support, and is out-financed and out-manoeuvred by the "in" campaign which has the enthusiastic support of the Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition (after a political career of consistent, old-fashioned Labour opposition to Europe), virtually all business magnates, the President of the United States, the Pope of Rome, so far as I know all European heads of state, and so on. Because of this I predict that the result of the referendum on EU membership will be a resounding "yes," to remain vassalled to Brussels with all the malefits of membership; eventual monetary and economic union, open borders (and with the inevitable accession of Turkey to the EU we would then have a border with Iraq and Syria!), &c. This is because people will vote to keep the status quo. They're deathly afraid that Britain, alone, an island (off the coast of...America?) will not survive, and will lose international influence. The fact that our membership in this godless utopian project destroyed our farming, fishing, and manufacturing industries, small businesses, disunites people despite its apparent aim, and costs us billions per annum seems not to worry them.

For all this rhetoric, it's over anyway. I suppose this is a roundabout way of saying what others more experienced than me have been saying for years. We're finished no matter which way the vote goes. Our fate was sealed forever when Mr Heath (former MP of my constituency) deceived the nation about the true political ambition of the then Common Market and brought us in, when, had he been honest about European federalism, political and economic union the British people would never have agreed to it. Fundamentally, this referendum is about our democratic right to self-determination. Do you want to be governed by unknown foreign bureaucrats or by your known, elected representatives in Parliament? It's that simple. You can attach all the qualifications and what-ifs you like but I would much rather be a subject of a true sovereign nation than to live in England, but to have this constant reminder that it's not really my own country anymore.

More on the mayoral election...

Moments ago I actually deleted a draft post about Sadiq Khan. I wish I hadn't now because I have just seen this brilliant and succinct post over on Fr Andrew's blog, which sums up everything that I would have said. He writes:

"What the foreign-controlled British and EU media did not report was that the other main candidate to be Mayor of London was, like David Cameron, an Old Etonian of Jewish origin. Son of a billionaire and one of the richest men in the UK, he is also married to a banking heiress, a Rothschild. Had he been elected, would there have been headlines, ‘Jew elected Mayor of London’? Of course not. Significantly, in the last few days, the foreign-owned British media have launched a vilification campaign both against the new Labour Muslim Mayor of London and against the Labour Party, accusing it of anti-Semitism, whereas in reality it is simply pro-Palestinian (we should note that the Palestinians are Semites) and anti-Zionist (We should note that, according to the UN, Zionism is racism, and we should add that many Jews are anti-Zionist and most Zionists are Non-Jews)."

Absolutely. Far be it from me to add to where Fr Andrew left off, but I would say also that the smear campaign against Mr Khan's own honest campaign really plays into the hands of the Islamists. Probably one of the principal reasons they attack us is our cynical tendency to identify as extremists/terrorists/Islamists, whatever you like, any Muslim country, organisation or person that we simply do not like. For example, I can think of people close to home who hate Muslims and voted for the Old Etonian billionaire Jew just to keep Mr Khan out for no other reason than he is a Muslim (and universal suffrage is a good thing?). How strange for a socialist (the person I have in mind), who decries privilege and constantly extols people who work their way up in this world. There's a word for that: bigotry.

It seems to this old cynic that if we're going to take the Islamist threat seriously then it is better that we have a Muslim at the helm than a pro-USA, pro-Israel billionaire Jew.

The trials of life...

On the bookcase in our living room is an old book; not as old as some of my more recently purchased books going, in a few cases, back to the 18th century, but old in the sense that I have had it for as long as I can remember. It's David Attenborough's The Trials of Life. It's a BBC hardback, and on the dust jacket I can still see the scars it has borne over the years from the days when I used it as a thing to lean on when drawing castles and cathedrals or writing nonsense stories based on Tolkien as a boy. But I have read it too, not for a very long span of years, but I remember clearly from the chapter "Living Together" Attenborough's description of large animals:

"Most large animals, in fact, are not the single individuals they seem to be. They are walking menageries, whole communities of different species which, in their various ways, are committed by evolution, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to live together."

That contrasts most sharply with his vivid description of a fight between two grizzly bears over a small carcass in the next chapter, but his mastery of narrative is clearly inspired by Cranmer, very grand, very English. I think he is wonderful, probably the last good thing about the BBC. It's his 90th birthday to-day and I wish him many happy returns, and thank him very sincerely for his fascinating life, and contribution to our understanding of nature, bringing small miracles of life to people like me, who otherwise would not see, still less know of, them.

Magna Opera Domini!

The new mayor...

Notwithstanding my strong belief that the position of "mayor of London" should be completely abolished, and that all constitutional reforms passed under the Blair government should be immediately reversed, I am relieved that Sadiq Khan won the mayoral election and triumphed over the disgraceful smear campaign of his "conservative" opponent, the Jew Zac Goldsmith. As a polite nod to the Church by Law Established he has even chosen his "inauguration" to take place in Southwark Cathedral. Religion, and indeed a conservative religious voice, is still going to be safeguarded in London. And, to quote a rather sensible man whom I only know vaguely through a friend of mine, "London is a little safer now than it was yester-day." God alone knows what would have been the case under the other mayor-elect, had he won. I have no doubt he'd have filled the assembly with rich Zionist cronies and our battle with radicalized young Muslims would have been much bloodier and more grievous.

So, congratulations Mr Khan. You didn't get my vote (I didn't vote) but you have my every sympathy.

An elected mayor...

This is Peter Hitchens on a good day. I am just back from the polling station. I was constrained to go by the will of my parents, and I did not actually vote at all, but spoiled the ballot. I don't care either way who wins the election, but I think it speaks volumes about the state of Babylon London that the contest is between a Muslim and a Jew.

Shift the Ape...

Shift is C.S.Lewis' Antichrist or false prophet character from The Last Battle. Some have said that he bears some resemblance to the bishop of Rome, as he lead the donkey in and out of the stable in the lion skin to the foolish beasts, pretending it was Aslan; just as a Roman priest might expose and conceal a wafer from a tabernacle for credulous people, pretending it is Christ. There may be some truth to that interpretation. But I think that Lewis was influenced more by his old friend J.R.R.Tolkien, and by Charles Darwin, than by polemical Puritan teachings about the pope. Shift is an ape that pretends to be a Son of Adam, and lies in his fancy and claims to be hundreds upon hundreds of years old to explain his appearance. Darwin's theory needs no introduction here but it seems to me to be very apposite to have a talking ape in so deceptive and treacherous a character. I don't know what Lewis thought of Darwin's theory but he will no doubt have understood upon first reading Tolkien's meaning in that marvelous poem Mythopoeia, written for him in 1931:

I will not walk with your progressive apes,

erect and sapient. Before them gapes

the dark abyss to which their progress tends

if by God's mercy progress ever ends,

and does not ceaselessly revolve the same

unfruitful course with changing of a name.

I will not tread your dusty path and flat,

denoting this and that by this and that,

your world immutable wherein no part

the little maker has with maker's art.

I bow not yet before the Iron Crown,

nor cast my own small golden sceptre down.

Darwin is not a subject I have often broached on Liturgiae Causa but I should like to know what readers think. Do you believe that Men evolved from extinct apes with obscure Latin names? If so, where does that leave Eden and the flaming sword? Original Sin? Our sense of exile, and the purpose of Christ's Incarnation? The works of Redemption, the operation of Grace, and so on. Ultimately, is Darwin's theory compatible in any way with Christian teaching? Because I don't think it is.

Rather brilliant...

Alteration by atrophy, from a member of the Ordinariate. This is exactly what is happening in the Papal communion, and it is devilishly cunning, yet so obvious to those of us with eyes to see and independent minds. It's as Søren Kierkegaard said (although I believe the original quotation is longer and more complex): "A passionate tumultuous age will overthrow everything,  pull everything down; but a revolutionary age which is, at the same time, reflective and passionless, leaves everything standing but cunningly empties it of significance."

To the members of the Ordinariate I would say: I'm sorry but you signed up for it, so why are you complaining? You fell in love with one pope, thoughtful but insincere, and now you have a new pope, as unlike the old as can be, yet sadly not to your liking. If you're willing to accept all that the Papal communion teaches, then you have to also accept that this swings like a pendulum depending upon the contemporary occupant of the see of Rome. This is how it has survived to the present day; not by divine grace but by cynical, glacial alteration, even alteration by atrophy. Sometimes it's more obvious (anyone remember Limbo? Or Leo XIII's "let's rally to the French republic!"); sometimes a scandal (three rival popes, each excommunicating the other), but there is always change because Rome is the fount of all change, all corruption. But you signed up to it. It reminds me of the audience Quentin Crisp gave in Los Angeles in 1982 or 1983. He was asked whether in his view Adolf Hitler had "style," and he said: "yes, of course Hitler had style. Why else would we have a Germany, full of elderly people saying, 'I can't think what came over me!'" It seems to me that this is exactly what these Ordinariate people are saying. They might not regret their decision to enter into communion with the putative successor of Peter, but they both rue and lament it!

A "special" relationship...

It seems to me that our "special relationship" is with the wrong nation. These pictures should tell you why. 

To feel that joy...

"'A great Shadow has departed,' said Gandalf, and then he laughed, and the sound was like music, or like water in a parched land; and as he listened the thought came to Sam that he had not heard laughter, the pure sound of merriment, for days upon days without count. It fell upon his ears like the echo of all the joys he had ever known. But he himself burst into tears. Then, as a sweet rain will pass down a wind of spring and the sun will shine out the clearer, his tears ceased, and his laughter welled up, and laughing he sprang from his bed." J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Book VI, Chapter IV.

My Irish grandfather was a "retired" Christian, like me. My father says it was a combination of things that drove him from the Roman church, his education by the Christian Brothers, brutal even by Irish standards, and other things that I don't know. But to-day, the Day of Days in the Christian kalendar, in my own troubles I recall the story I was told of him one Easter morning many years ago. An elderly lady from his parish, who was late for the Mass, found him sat on a wall outside the church unwilling to go in. She besought him by all the means that she could to go in with her, but he couldn't, and he picked up his cane and went home. So far as I know that was the last time he went near or by a church as living man.

This is roughly where I am. I would like to share in the joy of Easter, rejoicing that Christ hath beguiled Death by Death, but I can't. My heart is stone within me.