Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet!

Aging

2011-04-27T01:25:00.000-07:00

I looked in the mirror today and realized I once had more hair than now I do. What happened?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yR2vGJSX0xo

Guess I can't embed any longer.

The Gods of the Copybook Headings

2011-03-31T22:19:00.000-07:00

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall.
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn,
That water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision, and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market-Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch.
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch.
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings.
So we worshiped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbor and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selective Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew,
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four —
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

* * * * * *

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man —
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began: —
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

--Rudyard Kipling

Quick notification

2011-03-18T00:25:00.000-07:00

Dear friends, due to my busy schedule and technology problems, I have found myself unable to update in a while. Never fear, however; Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet shall be springing to life once more within the near future, with plenty, I am sure, to talk about.

In the meantime, in solidarity with our friends, a great nation, and the world's last empire:

Our Lady of Akita, pray for Japan.

The Courage of François de Charette

2011-02-01T09:56:00.000-08:00

Tea at Trianon refers us to an account of the capture and execution of one of the greatest French Royalist heroes:

The trial took place on the 28^th of March. After five hours of examination, during which the Vendean belied not for a single instant the firmness of his character and the nobility of his cause, his judges pronounced upon him sentence of death. He heard it without emotion, and requested only, that as he had fought, so he might die, a Christian, and that he might enjoy the consolations of religion. They sent him the Abbé Guibert, a priest who had taken the oath to the constitution. Before entering his cell, the ecclesiastic begged that the prisoner might be searched. Charette was indignant at the man’s alarm. “Does he think,” cried he, “that the general of the Catholic and royal armies is an assassin? Let him come without fear.”

The Abbé then entered, and said, in a trembling voice, “I am come, monsieur, to offer you the consolations of religion in your unhappy strait.”

“It is for that purpose I sent for you,” replied the Christian hero. “I abhor your principles, I do not regard you as a legitimate minister; but I know that in the hour of death you have power to absolve me. Come, listen to my confession. I do not want your exhortations, I desire absolution.” So saying, he fell on his knees, and, notwithstanding his wounds, remained in that posture for two hours. Then he arose, pardoned, and ready to appear before his God.

At last the fatal moment arrived; the gate of the prison opened, and Charette was led forth to the place of execution….By his calm attitude and noble and resigned bearing, he attracted more attention than all the magnificence and pomp with which his enemies sought to adorn their triumph. As he passed by a certain house in a street indicated by his sister, he humbly bowed his head. An old man clad in black, and holding a white handkerchief, was at a window; it was a Catholic priest, whom the piety of Mademoiselle de Charette had stationed there to give to the warrior, who was going to die for God and the king, the benediction of heaven. None but a few Vendeans who were hidden in the crowd knew why Charette thus inclined his head; but they blessed God for the grace He had accorded to His faithful soldier.

Vive le Roy.

King Charles I

2011-01-29T22:59:00.000-08:00

From Cromwell. The king here shows the same courage that his French counterpart and descendant would a century and a half later.

Sic Semper Tyrannis

2011-01-29T22:04:00.000-08:00

Cromwell's body, hidden in the wall of the middle aisle of Henry VII Lady Chapel, took effort to exhume because the wood and cloth were difficult to shift. On 28 January 1661, the bodies of Cromwell and Ireton were taken to the Red Lion Inn in Holborn, joined the following day by the body of John Bradshaw, before being taken to Tyburn for execution. On the morning of 30 January 1661, the anniversary of the execution of King Charles I, the shrouded bodies in open coffins were dragged on a sledge through the streets of London to the gallows, where each body was hanged in full public view until around four o'clock that afternoon. After being taken down, Cromwell's head was severed with eight blows, placed on a wooden spike on a 20-foot (6.1 m) pole, and raised above Westminster Hall.

Wikipedia relates more regarding the unusual history of Oliver Cromwell's head.

In the town of Hadley, Mass., are believed to be buried two of Cromwell's associates in the murder of King Charles I. This is not far from me, and often I've spoken with friends there about attempting to find the graves of William Goffe and Edward Whalley, who also signed the king's death warrant and took refuge in Hadley, that the public justice due a regicide may be meted, just as it was in Cromwell's case. That plan, however, never really got beyond a pub conversation.

Whalley and Goffe sailed from England as soon as possible. They arrived in Boston in July, 1660, and they lived there openly under assumed names. In August of that same year, Charles II issued a royal writ for their arrest and execution, the man-of-war bearing these warrants set sail for Boston. Friends of the two regicides found out and secretly chartered a fast sloop by which to send a warning. The sloop over took the King's man-of-war just off Cape Ann, pressed on to Boston Harbor where it arrived too late to reach the city that night. The ship's captain, taking his mission very seriously, manned his small boat with his strongest men and rowed to shore. Governor Endicott was having a party for the two regicides that very evening at the State House. The captain, still dressed in his seaman's clothes, refused to be turned away from the door, arguing his case at length. Governor Endicott overheard the discussion and listened to the captain's message. Realizing that Goffe and Whalley were facing apprehension, the governor ended the reception and sent the two men out of Boston that very night.

From 1661-1664, the two fugitives were housed in and around New Haven and Milford, Connecticut. When the King's men started looking for them in Connecticut, Whalley and Goffe decided to hide out at the back of beyond, in the small settlement of Hadley. Reverend John Russell hid them in his house in the center of the village until Whalley's death in ca. 1674 and Goffe's death some time around 1680. Although a few trusted people knew the two men were secretly hidden in Hadley, everyone involved kept the secret because if the truth were revealed, John Russell as well as the two fugitives would face death.

More about these regicides and the legend of the "Angel of Hadley" bound up with them can be found here.

God save the King.

Sarko calls Alsace "Germany"

2011-01-26T21:22:00.000-08:00

Photo courtesy of European People's Party

I generally make no secret about my distaste for the President of the French Republic, M. Sarkozy, a distaste I hold for a great many reasons. However, this gaffe takes the cake:

French President Nicolas Sarkozy has caused outrage by suggesting that the Alsace region which his country won back from the Nazis after World War II was still ‘in Germany’.

The French President made the hugely embarrassing mistake during a speech in the Alsatian town of Truchtersheim, which is less than 20 miles from the German border...

‘I’m not saying that simply because I’m in Germany,’ he continued, before correcting himself to say: ‘I’m in Alsace.’

The crowd immediately began jeering and then booing Mr Sarkozy, who appeared shocked by what he had said – putting his hands up in the air as if surrender.

Alsace, historically one of the most strategically crucial regions in France, was contested constantly between France and Germany during the 19th and 20th Century.

I don't necessarily wish here to go into a rant regarding "foreigners" or such, for indeed I greatly enjoy the rich and diverse cultures of other lands. But I do have a great animus for "rootless cosmopolitans," those who will carpetbag about seeking a comfortable enough place to hang their hats, then, without any regard for the shared common loves of the people of that place, seek to make it into their own little socially-engineered utopia. Nicolas Sarkozy is not very French, and this gaffe shows how un-French he is, not even knowing enough about the country he purportedly governs to know that Alsace is French, not German. What an insult to those men who honourably served that Alsace may remain a part of the great French realm! My family has not lived in the Hexagon for generations, yet even I am heartily affronted by this.

As though we needed yet another case proving that mass elections are an excuse for large-scale fraud and pandering. Those elected often set themselves against the nation they purport to serve, make no attempt to share in the nation's customs and traditions, often leading many to believe that they actively stand against their supposed fellow-citizens. Sarkozy is terrible in this regard; Obama is worse. Great nations deserve great leaders, and, honestly, Western world, we can do better. Monarchs still reign, but with little power; many other royal families have lost their thrones but remain waiting in the wings should they ever be called upon again. Frankly, what have we to lose in calling upon them? Indeed, the situation as it stands cannot get much worse. Even a bad monarch was much more a Frenchman, or an Englishman, or what have you, than the internationalist carpetbaggers ruling today. For the sake of our continuing identity and survival, give them a chance.

This one's dedicated to you, Monsieur le Président:

Pope Benedict on Jeanne d'Arc

2011-01-26T21:12:00.000-08:00

From today's general audience in Rome:

Our catechesis today deals with Saint Joan of Arc, one of the outstanding women of the later Middle Ages. Raised in a religious family, Joan enjoyed mystical experiences from an early age. At a time of crisis in the Church and of war in her native France, she felt God’s call to a life of prayer and virginity, and to personal engagement in the liberation of her compatriots. At the age of seventeen, Joan began her mission among the French military forces; she sought to negotiate a just Christian peace between the English and French, took an active part in the siege of Orleans and witnessed the coronation of Charles VII at Rheims. Captured by her enemies the next year, she was tried by an ecclesiastical court and burnt at the stake as a heretic; she died invoking the name of Jesus. Her unjust condemnation was overturned twenty-five years later. At the heart of Saint Joan’s spirituality was an unfailing love for Christ and, in Christ, for the Church and for her neighbour. May the prayers and example of Saint Joan of Arc inspire many lay men and women to devote themselves to public life in the service of God’s Kingdom, and encourage all of us to live to the fullest our lofty calling in Christ.

Au Ciel / J'Irai La Voir un Jour

2011-01-24T21:34:00.000-08:00

I recall older relations of my grandmother's and great-grandmother's generation singing this while about their daily work.

Thanks to The New Beginning for helping me rediscover this.

Marquis de Montcalm

2011-01-24T21:18:00.000-08:00

The Mad Monarchist speaks about the great hero of New France:

Upon his arrival, Montcalm was less than impressed with the situation in New France. There was not much that was up to his high standards and although he was polite and diplomatic with his Indian allies he also abhorred their methods of making war. He squabbled with the local governor and received precious little support from the homeland. Yet, the Marquis brought a new sense of professionalism to the French war effort in America and against all odds he won a string of stunning victories over the British. Despite being heavily outnumbered the Marquis de Montcalm took the offensive and began methodically reducing the British presence in upper New York. In 1756 he won a great victory that secured French control of Ontario with the capture of Fort Oswego. The devout Marquis credited God with the victory and erected a memorial cross in thanks. The following year his skillful siege tactics resulted in the capture of Fort William Henry, a name perhaps most famous for the Indian massacre of British soldiers and civilians who had evacuated the fort. Much blame has been heaped on Montcalm for this but, in fact, he never ordered such an atrocity, was horrified when he learned of it and acted quickly to stop the killings even to the extent of offering his own life in exchange for the parolees.

It was, however, the battle of Fort Carillon in 1758 that was to be the masterpiece of Montcalm’s military career. With only 3,800 men he successfully repelled a British army of over 16,000. The British lost 2,000 men killed or wounded while the Marquis lost only 352. Again, Montcalm attributed the victory to God and erected another memorial cross in thanks for their deliverance. It was the height of French war effort in North America and the height of the career of the Marquis. Despite being at every disadvantage, the French had not only defeated the British campaigns against them but struck back to the point that the very presence of the British in America was imperiled. However, stirred to action, things soon changed as the British sent over massive reinforcements from the home islands with the intention of wiping out the French presence in Canada once and for all.

Read more here.

Murder of King Louis XVI

2011-01-20T21:13:00.000-08:00

On January 21, 1793, the French Republic committed one of the most unspeakable crimes, the murder by guillotine of Good King Louis XVI. I reproduce here the report of L'Abbé Edgeworth de Firmont, the King's confessor who accompanied him to the scaffold.

The King, finding himself seated in the carriage, where he could neither speak to me nor be spoken to without witness, kept a profound silence. I presented him with my breviary, the only book I had with me, and he seemed to accept it with pleasure: he appeared anxious that I should point out to him the psalms that were most suited to his situation, and he recited them attentively with me. The gendarmes, without speaking, seemed astonished and confounded at the tranquil piety of their monarch, to whom they doubtless never had before approached so near.

The procession lasted almost two hours; the streets were lined with citizens, all armed, some with pikes and some with guns, and the carriage was surrounded by a body of troops, formed of the most desperate people of Paris. As another precaution, they had placed before the horses a number of drums, intended to drown any noise or murmur in favour of the King; but how could they be heard? Nobody appeared either at the doors or windows, and in the street nothing was to be seen, but armed citizens - citizens, all rushing towards the commission of a crime, which perhaps they detested in their hearts.

The carriage proceeded thus in silence to the Place de Louis XV, and stopped in the middle of a large space that had been left round the scaffold: this space was surrounded with cannon, and beyond, an armed multitude extended as far as the eye could reach. As soon as the King perceived that the carriage stopped, he turned and whispered to me, 'We are arrived, if I mistake not.' My silence answered that we were. One of the guards came to open the carriage door, and the gendarmes would have jumped out, but the King stopped them, and leaning his arm on my knee, 'Gentlemen,' said he, with the tone of majesty, 'I recommend to you this good man; take care that after my death no insult be offered to him - I charge you to prevent it.'… As soon as the King had left the carriage, three guards surrounded him, and would have taken off his clothes, but he repulsed them with haughtiness- he undressed himself, untied his neckcloth, opened his shirt, and arranged it himself. The guards, whom the determined countenance ofthe King had for a moment disconcerted, seemed to recover their audacity. They surrounded him again, and would have seized his hands. 'What are you attempting?' said the King, drawing back his hands. 'To bind you,' answered the wretches. 'To bind me,' said the King, with an indignant air. 'No! I shall never consent to that: do what you have been ordered, but you shall never bind me. . .'

The path leading to the scaffold was extremely rough and difficult to pass; the King was obliged to lean on my arm, and from the slowness with which he proceeded, I feared for a moment that his courage might fail; but what was my astonishment, when arrived at the last step, I felt that he suddenly let go my arm, and I saw him cross with a firm foot the breadth of the whole scaffold; silence, by his look alone, fifteen or twenty drums that were placed opposite to me; and in a voice so loud, that it must have been heard it the Pont Tournant, I heard him pronounce distinctly these memorable words: 'I die innocent of all the crimes laid to my charge; I Pardon those who have occasioned my death; and I pray to God that the blood you are going to shed may never be visited on France.'

He was proceeding, when a man on horseback, in the national uniform, and with a ferocious cry, ordered the drums to beat. Many voices were at the same time heard encouraging the executioners. They seemed reanimated themselves, in seizing with violence the most virtuous of Kings, they dragged him under the axe of the guillotine, which with one stroke severed his head from his body. All this passed in a moment. The youngest of the guards, who seemed about eighteen, immediately seized the head, and showed it to the people as he walked round the scaffold; he accompanied this monstrous ceremony with the most atrocious and indecent gestures. At first an awful silence prevailed; at length some cries of 'Vive la Republique!' were heard. By degrees the voices multiplied and in less than ten minutes this cry, a thousand times repeated became the universal shout of the multitude, and every hat was in the air.

Photograph courtesy of Eric Pouhier

Vive le Roi-Martyr.

An interesting contrast

2011-01-17T21:53:00.001-08:00

On January 15, 1559, Bloody Elizabeth (am I incidentally the only one who believes the cocktail should be renamed?) was crowned Queen of England. Her reign took England definitively out of the Catholic sphere, culminating in her excommunication by Pope Pius V, her weathering of the attack of the Spanish Armada, and her slaying of large numbers of Catholics in her realm, among them her cousin and heiress presumptive, Mary, Queen of Scots.

Exactly 451 years after that, the Personal Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham was canonically erected better to allow for the reunion with the Holy See of Anglicans disaffected with the established Church of England. Three former Anglican bishops were ordained priests.

Anglican Father Hunwicke describes the ethos of the first Mass of Father Andrew Burnham, formerly Bishop of Ebbsfleet, as follows:

Fr Aidan returned, today, to the great enterprise of gathering up the fragments that none be lost; of appropriating, for the good of all the church, the Anglican inheritance discerned through the purifying prism of Catholic Orthodoxy. He mentioned that Bishop Andrew is engaged in the liturgical side of that - but made clear, referring especially to Blessed John Henry and the Tractarian Fathers, that there is much more to it than Liturgy. His homily, I think, counts as the Programmatic Statement of the Ordinariate as far as theology is concerned. I hope he stays involved.

If Fr Aidan's homily was characteristic, so was Bishop Andrew's liturgy. Fine music (Byrd; Morales); Latin from the Sursum corda until the Communion. We had examples of what the American blogosphere now calls Common Sense and Mutual Enrichment. Sanctus covered the (silent) first half of the Canon Romanus and Benedictus the second half; we were spared those horrid 'Acclamations' after the Consecration. At the Invitation to Communion, Bishop Andrew continued his custom of using the New ICEL translation of Ecce Agnus Dei. More here.

All in all, an excellent start on a very auspicious date. Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet extends its congratulations and its promise of prayers to the new ordinands and to all crossing the Tiber into this new ordinariate. May your rich theology and liturgy, picking up the mantle of Blessed John Henry Newman, come to enrich us all.

Blessed John Paul II

2011-01-14T22:38:00.001-08:00

The beatification shall take place on May 1.

I've noted that many liturgically minded people have lately come to disparage the pontificate of John Paul II as not traditional enough, or as the same "Spirit of Vatican II" but this time with a veneer of doctrinal orthodoxy. These critics, however, fail to appreciate the profound difference between the situation he inherited from Paul VI and John Paul I and the situation he passed on to Benedict XVI. Does anyone under the age of 60 buy liberation theology as a reflection of authentic Catholic doctrine any longer? No? Then thank John Paul for it. And then while you're at it, thank him for tearing down the Iron Curtain and ending Communism in Europe, or is your memory so short as to forget this?

(UPDATE: Further information regarding the conflict between the Soviet bloc and the Church during the Wojtyla pontificate may be found here.)

I'll be frank; I didn't like much of what I saw in the John Paul years, like the Assisi meetings--do we really need another one?--the Piero Marini designed liturgies, and the prominence of such self-aggrandizing shysters as the Legion of Christ and those pushing the Medjugorje apparitions. I was a teenager in the 1990s, and saw many of the Church's attempts to appeal to young people in that day as crass and pandering, whether they were Life-Teen rock concerts or mellow Kum-Ba-Yah-singing sessions that felt more like motivational speaking or group therapy than divine worship. I was very private then as I'm private now (is this not the lengthiest digression about myself that I've made on these pages yet?) and was quite unwilling to speak about my inmost feelings to perfect strangers, let alone usually even close friends or family; such are known but to God. Moreover, others being so personal with me was rather affronting, and I could barely wait to return home to sit by candlelight in a darkened room and listen to the chant album of the monks of Santo Domingo de Silos, which was very popular at the time, wondering why, if this was religious chant, why were we dealing with guitars, tambourines, and maracas at Mass?

I digress in this manner only to cite the fact that I had significant problems growing up Catholic in the John Paul era, but one thing strongly impressed on me is that there actually is a doctrine of faith, not some hodgepodge slapdash nihilistic egalitarianism of ideas that so many seemed to hold to. Even if the orthodoxy presented me in my youth was often quite minimal, it was still orthodox, and by no means did the minimalism of its presentation preclude me from further study. The kernel of Catholic truth reached the world ever more broadly under the aggiornamento of Pope John Paul II; now it is putting down its roots--its religious, cultural, political, and aesthetic peculiarities from the modern world--in a way that I had only dreamed of in my youth under the ressourcement of Pope Benedict (everywhere, if news is to be believed, except in my own diocese). The one must logically follow on the other, particularly after the uprooting and iconoclasm that the wake of the Council brought. To my mind, that good alone, and its logical development, outweighs all that I'd critique.

Thus, I feel a defense of the late pope is very much in order for those who would put forth critiques of his pontificate. Though I may indeed be in accord, I dare say an understanding of the context of the pontificate of John Paul II is much in order before one casts stones.

Viva il Papa.

Shakespeare was Catholic

2011-01-10T10:15:00.000-08:00

Well, as I am sure readers will agree with me, I hardly need to preach to the converted. Just one other thing: the greatest poet and dramatist of all time (you can keep your Racine and your Goethe) was an Englishman – and a Catholic. I will readily admit that the evidence for this is disputed (unlike the authorship of the plays for 200 years after his death.) Shapiro does not go into this; he is simply concerned that prove that Shakespeare wrote the plays. But there is still enough contributory knowledge of his childhood influences, his family milieu and his acting circle to make his religious beliefs more than a conjecture. His parents were devout Catholics; so were his school masters; so were many of his friends, his acting troupe and his patrons. (Fr Peter Milward SJ has written about Catholic aspects in the plays themselves.)

Shapiro surmises that one of the reasons there is so little biographical documentation about Shakespeare during his life is that, as the follower of an outlawed faith (he did not want to be hanged, drawn and quartered after all, and who can blame him) he destroyed the evidence. Peter Ackroyd’s biography discusses this question in greater depth, as does Clare Asquith’s Shadowplay, which suggests that the plays are crammed with coded allusions for Shakespeare’s co-religionists. more

Stephanie A. Mann of Supremacy and Survival speaks of Shakespeare's executed cousin Edward Arden here.

Birthday of Ste. Jeanne d'Arc

2011-01-07T11:43:00.001-08:00

On Epiphany in 1412, Joan of Arc was born in Domrémy (now Domrémy-la-Pucelle) in Lorraine.

Already, I am sure, news has reached your ears of a certain Maid, sent to us, as we devoutly believe, by God, and in order that I may briefly set forth her life, deeds, station and character, and shall first tell of her origin. She was born in the small village of Domremy, in the country of Bar, within the confines of the Kingdom of France, on the river Meuse, near Lorraine, of upright and simple parents. It was during the night of the Epiphany of Our Lord (January 6, Twelfth Night), when men are wont most joyfully to recall the acts of Christ that she first saw the light in this mortal life. And, wonderful to relate, the poor inhabitants of the place were seized with an inconceivable joy. And though ignorant of the birth of the Maid, they rushed hither and thither in search of what might be the new event. Their hearts as one were conscious of a new gladness. What can one add? The cocks like heralds of a new joy, against their wont, burst forth in songs not heard before, and with flapping wings for more than two hours appeared to foretell this new event.

--Percival de Boullainvilliers writing to the Duke of Milan. More of his letter may be found here.

More testimonies of her birth may be found here. Also, here is an image of the place where she was born.

It is indeed rather appropriate that, France having been born on Christmas, her greatest defender should be born on Little Christmas.

Noël! Noël!
Ste. Jeanne, priez pour nous.

Happy Birthday to a dear friend

2011-01-07T11:30:00.000-08:00

To my darling Myfanwy: happy birthday, kid.

20+C+M+B+11

2011-01-05T22:28:00.000-08:00

The elaborate story that we know today can be found in the Historia Trium Regum, the History of the Three Kings, which is attributed to the fourteenth-century cleric John of Hildesheim. In this compilation of the legend, we are told much more about the star: "When the day of the nativity was passed the Star ascended up into the firmament, and it had right many long streaks and beams, more burning and brighter than a brand of fire; and as an eagle flying and beating the air with his wings, right so the streaks and beams of the Star stirred about." And we are told that the three wise men, named Melchior, Balthazar, and Gaspar, are the kings of "Ind, Chaldea, and Persia." They only meet on the outskirts of Jerusalem having traveled from their own lands "in great haste" and without stopping. And so they reach Bethlehem and present their gifts. When the kings depart, they continue together until the reach the Hill of Vaws, or Hill of Victory, on the border of Ind, where a watchtower was maintained (it was here that the Star was first sighted). There, before departing to their own countries, the three made "a fair chapel in worship of the Child they had sought. Also they agreed to meet together at the same place once in the year, and they ordained that the Hill of Vaws should be the place of their burial."

John of Hildesheim continues the story of the wise men: "after many years" a Star appears above the cities in which the kings dwell just before Christmas, indicating to them that their lives were nearing an end. "Then with one consent they built, at the Hill of Vaws, a fair and large tomb, and there the three Holy Kings...died and were buried in the same tomb by their sorrowing people." If we were to assume that this actually happened, that all three died at the same place at the same time, it might have been in the mid-first century (since the kings were adults already in Bethlehem). If so, the kings had little more than two centuries of rest in their tomb before beginning another journey. Their tour director would be Helena, the mother of Constantine and now St. Helena. After 323-324, when he defeated his last rival, Constantine began rebuilding the city of Byzantium. He rededicated it as Constantinople in the year 330. One of the new buildings was the church Saint Sophia (Holy Wisdom), the first of three that would have that name. In the same period, Helena went to the Holy Land and collected various relics, including the true cross, and brought them home to Constantinople (see Cynewulf for an unusual retelling of this). The relics of the wise men were among her trophies: "Queen Helen...began to think greatly of the bodies of these three kings, and she arrayed herself, and accompanied by many attendants, went into the Land of Ind...after she had found the bodies of Melchior, Balthazar, and Casper, Queen Helen put them into one chest and ornamented it with great riches, and she brought them into Constantinople...and laid them in a church that is called Saint Sophia."

John of Hildesheim is rather brief about the wise men's later career. On Constantine's death, he says a persecution of Christians led to the relics being moved by the emperor Mauricius, who had them placed in a church in Milan. This may refer to the attempted pagan restoration under Julian (361-363), but Mauricius is a bit later (582-602). Much later, Frederick I, the Holy Roman Emperor, was at war in Italy and requested aid against Milan, which the Archbishop of Cologne Rainald von Dassel provided in the form of an army. The grateful Frederick rewarded him with the relics of the wise men in 1164. And to Cologne the relics were taken, and there--whoever the bones belong to--they remain today. more

A merry feast day to all!

The Days of Martyrdom

2011-01-04T21:07:00.000-08:00

Lest we think they are behind us:

Egypt:

A local priest has said the toll could have been much worse if the car had exploded just a few minutes later. After the attack witnesses say that many of the faithful gathered outside the charred remains of the car singing "We offer our lives and our blood through the Cross." The attack of last night brings to mind the October 31 massacre in Baghdad, in the Syrian Catholic cathedral, and the Al Qaeda threat against Christians in Egypt. more

Nigeria:

Dozens of armed men attacked the church, dragging the pastor out of his home and shooting him to death. Two young men from the choir rehearsing for a late-night carol service also were slain.

The group of about 30 attackers armed with guns and knives even killed two people passing by Victory Baptist Church. The assailants only left after setting the church and pastor's house ablaze. more

Iraq:

"For us Christians of Iraq, martyrdom is the charism of our Church, in its 2000 year history. As a minority, we are constantly faced with difficulties and sacrifices, but we are aware that bearing witness to Christ can mean martyrdom. In the Arabic language they have the same root: Shahid wa shahiid!. "

These the words of the Chaldean archbishop of Kirkuk, Msgr. Louis Sako, AsiaNews, summarizing what the past year for Iraqi Christians. Yesterday in Baghdad, six bomb explosions in front of Christian homes left two dead and 12 wounded. The bombs exploded in the Ghadir quarter, where there is a significant Christian presence in Yarmuk, Khadra, Dora, and Saidiya Karrada, near the church of Our Lady of Salvation, where last October 31 terrorists killed more than 50 Christians. more

Philippines:

A bomb exploded during Christmas Day Mass at a chapel inside a police camp in the volatile southern Philippines, wounding a priest and 10 churchgoers. more

Our distressed brethren in distant lands show very acutely to us what it means to share in the sufferings of Christ. Let us remember their example when we take up our daily crosses.

All ye white-robed martyrs, pray for them.

Te Deum

2010-12-31T09:01:00.000-08:00

The Te Deum. PLENARY INDULGENCE when recited publicly on the last day of the year. Otherwise a partial indulgence is granted to those who recite the Te Deum in thanksgiving.

--The Enchiridion of Indulgences.

This passing year, in spite of the tone of the age, has given us much to appreciate: I shall remember particularly the birth of two French royal princes, the identification of Henri IV's head, and the Holy Father's historic state visit to England and Scotland as perhaps the greatest moments of the year for me. We of course cannot forget the wedding of Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden, nor the long anticipated announcement of the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton.

For all of this, and for the countless other blessings over the course of the year, and in gratitude for all those who so enriched our lives and went on to their eternal reward this year--among them Archduchess Regina von Habsburg, Grand Duchess Leonida Georgievna of Russia, Paul Augustine Cardinal Mayer, Dame Joan Sutherland, and Henryk Górecki--I present Charpentier's Te Deum.

I bid a healthy, peaceful, prosperous, and holy 2011 to all.

Three great French kings

2010-12-25T16:15:00.000-08:00

On Christmas Day in 496, Clovis, King of the Franks, was immersed in the waters of baptism, and France was born:

At this time the King was yet in the errors of his idolatry and went to war with the Alemanni, since he wished to render them tributary. Long was the battle, many were slain on one side or the other, for the Franks fought to win glory and renown, the Alemanni to save life and freedom. When the King at length saw the slaughter of his people and the boldness of his foes, he had greater expectation of disaster than of victory. He looked up to heaven humbly, and spoke thus: "Most mighty God, whom my queen Clothilde worships and adores with heart and soul, I pledge you perpetual service unto your faith, if only you give me now the victory over my enemies."

Instantly when he had said this, his men were filled with burning valor, and a great fear smote his enemies, so that they turned their backs and fled the battle; and victory remained with the King and with the Franks. The king of the Alemanni were slain; and as for the Alemanni, seeing themselves discomfited, and that their king had fallen, they yielded themselves to Chlodovocar and his Franks and became his tributaries.

The King returned after this victory into Frankland. He went to Rheims, and told the Queen what had befallen; and they together gave thanks unto Our Lord. The King made his confession of faith from his heart, and with right good will. The Queen, who was wondrously overjoyed at the conversion of her lord, went at once to St. Remi, at that time archbishop of the city. Straightway he hastened to the palace to teach the King the way by which he could come unto God, for his mind was still in doubt about it. He presented himself boldly before his face, although a little while before he [the bishop] had not dared to come before him.

When St. Remi had preached to the King the Christian faith and taught him the way of the Cross, and when the king had known what the faith was, Chlodovocar promised fervently that he would henceforth never serve any save the all-powerful God. After that he said he would put to the test and try the hearts and wills of his chieftains and lesser people: for he would convert them more easily if they were converted by pleasant means and by mild words, than if they were driven to it by force; and this method seemed best to St. Remi. The folk and the chieftains were assembled by the command of the King. He arose in the midst of them, and spoke to this effect: "Lords of the Franks, it seems to me highly profitable that you should know first of all what are those gods which you worship. For we are certain of their falsity: and we come right freely into the knowledge of Him who is the true God. Know of a surety that this same God which I preach to you has given victory over your enemies in the recent battle against the Alemanni. Lift, therefore, your hearts in just hope; and ask the Sovereign Defender, that He give to you all, that which you desire---that He save our souls and give us victory over our enemies." When the King full of faith had thus preached to and admonished his people, one and all banished from their hearts all unbelief, and recognized their Creator.

When shortly afterward Chlodovocar set out for the church for baptism, St. Remi prepared a great procession. The streets of Rheims were hung with banners and tapestry. The church was decorated. The baptistry was covered with balsams and all sorts of perfumes. The people believed they were already breathing the delights of paradise. The cortege set out from the palace, the clergy led the way bearing the holy Gospels, the cross and banners, chanting hymns and psalms. Then came the bishop leading the King by the hand, next the Queen with the multitude. Whilst on the way the King asked of the bishop, "If this was the Kingdom of Heaven which he had promised him." "Not so," replied the prelate; "it is the road that leads to it."

When in the church, in the act of bestowing baptism the holy pontiff lifted his eyes to heaven in silent prayer and wept. Straightway a dove, white as snow, descended bearing in his beak a vial of holy oil. A delicious odor exhaled from it: which intoxicated those near by with an inexpressible delight. The holy bishop took the vial, and suddenly the dove vanished. Transported with joy at the sight of this notable miracle, the King renounced Satan, his pomps and his works; and demanded with earnestness the baptism; at the moment when he bent his head over the fountain of life, the eloquent pontiff cried, "Bow down thine head, fierce Sicambrian! Adore that which once thou hast burned: burn that which thou hast adored!"

After having made his profession of the orthodox faith, the King is plunged thrice in the waters of baptism. Then in the name of the holy and indivisible Trinity---Father, Son, and Holy Ghost---the prelate consecrated him with the divine unction. Two sisters of the king and 3000 fighting men of the Franks and a great number of women and children were likewise baptized. Thus we many well believe that day was a day of joy in heaven for the holy angels; likewise of rejoicing on earth for devout and faithful men!

The King showed vast zeal for his new faith. He built a splendid church at Paris, called St. Genevieve, where later he and Clothilde were buried. Faith and religion and zeal for justice were pursued by him all the days of his life. Certain Franks still held to paganism, and found a leader in Prince Ragnachairus but he was presently delivered up in fetters to Chlodovocar who put him to death. Thus all the Frankish people were converted and baptized by the merits of St. Remi....

At this time there came to Chlodovocar messengers from Anastasius, the Emperor of Constantinople, who brought him presents from their master, and letters whereof the effect was, that it pleased the Emperor and the Senators that he [Chlodovocar] be made a "Friend of the Emperor," and a "Patrician" and "Councilor" of the Romans. When the King had read these letters, he arrayed himself in the robe of a senator, which the Emperor had sent to him. He mounted upon his charger; and thus he went to the public square before the church of St. Martin; and then he gave great gifts to the people. From this day he was always called "Councilor" and "Augustus."

From The Chronicle of St. Denis, I.18-19, 23

Elena Maria Vidal at Tea at Trianon quotes Yves-Marie Adeline, president of the Royal Alliance of France:

Et vu sous l’angle politique, “Noël” est le cri que les Français poussaient aux sacres et aux entrées des rois dans leurs villes: “Noël! Noël!”. Car l’Etat français est né un jour de noël 496, avec le baptême de Clovis qui lui ouvrit la confiance des Gaules en espérance d’unité.

(And seen under the political angle, "Noël" is the cry of the French in the holy places and at the entrance of kings into their cities: "Noël! Noël!" For the French state was born one day on Christmas 496, with the baptism of Clovis who won the trust of the Gauls in the hope of unity.)

Also on Christmas Day, in 800, Charlemagne, King of the Franks, became the first Roman Emperor to reign in the West in over three centuries. Richard at Le Fleur de Lys Too gives a good account:

On December 26, 795, Leo III was chosen Pope. The Roman populace did not like him; it accused him of various misdeeds; and on April 25, 799, it attacked him, maltreated him, and imprisoned him in a monastery. He escaped, and fled for protection to Charlemagne at Paderborn. The King received him kindly, and sent him back to Rome under armed escort, and ordered the Pope and his accusers to appear before him there in the following year. On November 24, 800, Charlemagne entered the ancient capital in state; on December 1 an assembly of Franks and Romans agreed to drop the charges against Leo if he would deny them on solemn oath; he did; and the way was cleared for a magnificent celebration of the Nativity. On Christmas Day, as Charlemagne, in the chlamys and sandals of a patricius Romanus, knelt before St. Peter’s altar in prayer, Leo suddenly produced a jeweled crown, and set it upon the King’s head.

The congregation, perhaps instructed beforehand to act according to ancient ritual as the senatus populusque Romanus confirming a coronation, thrice cried out: “Hail to Charles the Augustus, crowned by God the great and peace-bringing Emperor of the Romans!” The royal head was anointed with holy oil, the Pope saluted Charlemagne as Emperor and Augustus, and offered him the act of homage reserved since 476 for the Eastern emperor. If we may believe Eginhard, Charlemagne told him that had he known Leo’s intention to crown him he would not have entered the church. Perhaps he had learned of the general plan, but regretted the haste and circumstances of its execution; it may not have pleased him to receive the crown from a pope, opening the door to centuries of dispute as to the relative dignity and power of donor and recipient; and presumably he anticipated difficulties with Byzantium.

Lastly, in 1066, William, Duke of Normandy, having defeated the Anglo-Saxons at Hastings with an army of Normans, Bretons, Flemish, and Franks earlier in the year, was crowned King of England in Westminster Abbey, also on Christmas Day. So was born England as we know it, a great nation cut from the same hardy cloth as France. The relationship and rivalry between these two nations is one of the greatest stories of our Western history.

It was an accident of faith that, at the very moment the crown was placed upon the head of this elected and consecrated King, his Norman guards, mistaking the customary acclamations of the spectators for a popular uprising, fell upon the people outside and put them to the sword while firing the surrounding houses, until their leader's appearance in his Coronation robes at the Abbey door quieted their barbaric fears.

Meanwhile the congregation had fled precipitately from the building. A few priests, however, had wisely remained, and the ceremony was concluded, with few onlookers, but without further interruption.

Nevertheless, even in this turbulent crowning the seeds were sown of future good. William, in his Coronation Oath, swore to "maintain the Church of God and all Christian people in true peace; to prohibit all orders of men from committing injustice and oppression, and to enjoin the observance of equity and mercy in all judgments."

And, though he may not have intended to have done so, he and his successors did actually accomplish something of this kind their strength of purpose, jealousy of all rivalry from their own coevals and immediate subordinates, and their strong Norman sense of law, order, and precedent made England a country in which something more than barbaric feudal anarchy could grow to maturity.

The King's Peace began to establish itself in the most remote and turbulent places; presently it penetrated into the fierce anarchical valleys of Wales and even crossed St. George's Channel.

That bloodstained, flame-lit Christmas Day in the Abbey was the beginning of British history as we know it today. The future of a new kind of world, and of an empire and firm peace wider and stronger even than that of fabulous, fallen Rome, was in it. more

Vive le Roy!
Vive le Roy!
Vive le Roy!

Merry Christmas to all!

2010-12-24T12:54:00.000-08:00

My Dear Friends and Visitors:

Before I leave to my revels tonight, I should like to send you all my Christmas greetings and my thanks for your loyal readership and support throughout the year.

"Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming, being conceived by the Holy Spirit, and nine months having passed since his conception, was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary, being made flesh." So reads the Christmas martyrology. The long-promised Emmanuel is given us tonight by the means of the womb of our Virgin Mother, the Bread of Heaven is laid in a manger tonight. Let us rush to greet Him in His humble stable, the song of the Holy Angels on our lips: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will!" May the joy of the coming of the Christ Child fill our hearts, change our hearts, and grant us the peace beyond all understanding in this festive Christmastide and throughout the coming year.

Thus, to you all, Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noël, Fröhliche Wiehnachten, Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, as the case may be.

May God bless us, every one!

JOYEUX ET SAINT NOËL!
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Peace on Earth

2010-12-23T21:13:00.001-08:00

On the birthday of the Prince of Peace in 1914, the war stopped:

With their morale boosted by messages of thanks and their bellies fuller than normal, and with still so much Christmas booty to hand, the season of goodwill entered the trenches. A British Daily Telegraph correspondent wrote that on one part of the line the Germans had managed to slip a chocolate cake into British trenches.

Even more amazingly, it was accompanied with a message asking for a ceasefire later that evening so they could celebrate the festive season and their Captain's birthday. They proposed a concert at 7.30pm when candles, the British were told, would be placed on the parapets of their trenches.

The British accepted the invitation and offered some tobacco as a return present. That evening, at the stated time, German heads suddenly popped up and started to sing. Each number ended with a round of applause from both sides.

The Germans then asked the British to join in. At this point, one very mean-spirited Tommy shouted: 'We'd rather die than sing German.' To which a German joked aloud: 'It would kill us if you did'.

December 24 was a good day weather-wise: the rain had given way to clear skies.

On many stretches of the Front the crack of rifles and the dull thud of shells ploughing into the ground continued, but at a far lighter level than normal. In other sectors there was an unnerving silence that was broken by the singing and shouting drifting over, in the main, from the German trenches.

Along many parts of the line the Truce was spurred on with the arrival in the German trenches of miniature Christmas trees - Tannenbaum. The sight these small pines, decorated with candles and strung along the German parapets, captured the Tommies' imagination, as well as the men of the Indian corps who were reminded of the sacred Hindu festival of light.

It was the perfect excuse for the opponents to start shouting to one another, to start singing and, in some areas, to pluck up the courage to meet one another in no-man's land.

Read more here of the most famous Christmas truce of the Great War in 1914. More soldiers' accounts of the truce can be found here. Apparently this didn't only happen in the first year of the war either; see here.

The state of the church and the world

2010-12-21T21:15:00.001-08:00

Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni. Repeatedly during the season of Advent the Church’s liturgy prays in these or similar words. They are invocations that were probably formulated as the Roman Empire was in decline. The disintegration of the key principles of law and of the fundamental moral attitudes underpinning them burst open the dams which until that time had protected peaceful coexistence among peoples. The sun was setting over an entire world. Frequent natural disasters further increased this sense of insecurity. There was no power in sight that could put a stop to this decline. All the more insistent, then, was the invocation of the power of God: the plea that he might come and protect his people from all these threats.

Excita, Domine, potentiam tuam, et veni. Today too, we have many reasons to associate ourselves with this Advent prayer of the Church. For all its new hopes and possibilities, our world is at the same time troubled by the sense that moral consensus is collapsing, consensus without which juridical and political structures cannot function. Consequently the forces mobilized for the defence of such structures seem doomed to failure.

Excita – the prayer recalls the cry addressed to the Lord who was sleeping in the disciples’ storm-tossed boat as it was close to sinking. When his powerful word had calmed the storm, he rebuked the disciples for their little faith (cf. Mt 8:26 et par.). He wanted to say: it was your faith that was sleeping. He will say the same thing to us. Our faith too is often asleep. Let us ask him, then, to wake us from the sleep of a faith grown tired, and to restore to that faith the power to move mountains – that is, to order justly the affairs of the world.

From the Holy Father's address on the occasion of Christmas greetings to the Roman Curia.
Read the rest here.

Viva il Papa.

Catholic Aristocracy: The Conversion of Gloria TNT

2010-12-19T20:51:00.000-08:00

Inspired by The Mad Monarchist's recent post regarding the very lovely Princess Elisabeth von Thurn und Taxis's first book (with a preface by Monsignor Georg Ratzinger), I decided to look a little more closely into the relationship of the Princely House of Thurn und Taxis to the Church and to the Pope.

During this time she [Gloria von Thurn und Taxis] also became very involved with the Catholic Church. In 1991 she made her first visit to Lourdes, where she worked as a volunteer with the sick and dying who go there in hopes of a miraculous cure. On a trip to Florence six years later, she became enthralled with Monsignor Michael Schmitz, the vicar-general of the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, a conservative Catholic organization dedicated to restoring the Latin Mass. She also cultivated a friendship with the Bavarian-born Cardinal Josef Ratzinger, one of the most powerful figures in the Vatican. In 2000 she moved to Rome, enrolled Prince Albert in a private school there, and with her good friend the Italian princess Alessandra Borghese began hosting liturgical concerts in churches, attended by Cardinal Ratzinger. She arranged to have the famous Regensburg boys' choir, which had been directed by Ratzinger's older brother, Georg, who is also a priest, sing for Pope John Paul II at Castel Gandolfo, the papal summer residence. In April 2005, when the cardinal was elected Pope Benedict XVI, Germans started referring to Princess TNT as the new Pope's best friend.

I encourage you to read the rest of this at Vanity Fair, as it really lays out well much of what a Catholic aristocrat should be.

For an example of Princess Elisabeth's writing on the Church, go here.

The O Antiphons

2010-12-18T21:26:00.000-08:00

The seven "O Antiphons" (also called the "Greater Antiphons" or "Major Antiphons") are prayers that come from the Breviary's Vespers during the Octave before Christmas Eve, a time which is called the "Golden Nights."

Each Antiphon begins with "O" and addresses Jesus with a unique title which comes from the prophecies of Isaias and Micheas (Micah), and whose initials, when read backwards, form an acrostic for the Latin "Ero Cras" which means "Tomorrow I come." MORE

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti,

attingens a fine usque ad finem,

fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia:

veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Adonai, et Dux domus Israel,

qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti,

et ei in Sina legem dedisti:

veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum,

super quem continebunt reges os suum,

quem Gentes deprecabuntur:

veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.

O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel;

qui aperis, et nemo claudit;

claudis, et nemo aperit:

veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris,

sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

O Oriens,

splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae:

veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

O Rex Gentium, et desideratus earum,

lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:

veni, et salva hominem,

quem de limo formasti.

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster,

exspectatio Gentium, et Salvator earum:

veni ad salvandum nos, Domine, Deus noster.

Come, Lord, and do not delay.

Henri IV's head to return to Saint-Denis

2010-12-15T18:36:00.000-08:00

Just three weeks after it was learned a retired electrician in southern France kept over 250 unknown artworks by Pablo Picasso secretly stashed away for the last 40 years, scientists now say a human head another French retiree stored in his garage is the noggin of King Henri IV. The British Medical Journal reports that specialists have authenticated the mummified head as that of Henri IV, whose remains were dug up by royalist-hating revolutionaries in 1793, 183 years after the king's assassination by a Catholic fanatic.

Solzhenitsyn on the Vendée

2010-12-14T21:01:00.000-08:00

Matterhorn at The Sword & The Sea notes Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's visit to the Vendée to dedicate a memorial to the victims of the genocide there:

Twenty decades have now passed, and throughout that period the Vendée uprising and its bloody suppression have been viewed in ever new ways, in France and elsewhere. Indeed, historical events are never fully understood in the heat of their own time, but only at a great distance, after a cooling of passions. For all too long, we did not want to hear or admit what cried out with the voices of those who perished, or were burned alive: that the peasants of a hard-working region, driven to the extremes of oppression and humiliation by a revolution supposedly carried out for their sake-- that these peasants had risen up against the revolution!

The great Solzhenitsyn never ceased to raise his voice against the moral vacuum of the modern deracinated world, perhaps nowhere better expressed than in his 1978 address at Harvard University:

Harvard's motto is "Veritas." Many of you have already found out and others will find out in the course of their lives that truth eludes us if we do not concentrate with total attention on its pursuit. And even while it eludes us, the illusion still lingers of knowing it and leads to many misunderstandings. Also, truth is seldom pleasant; it is almost invariably bitter. There is some bitterness in my speech today, too. But I want to stress that it comes not from an adversary but from a friend.

Thank you, Aleksandr Isayevich.
Vive le Roy.

Paris en hiver

2010-12-11T22:12:00.001-08:00

Madame Vidal at Tea at Trianon reflects on the loveliness of Paris under the recent snows here. Would that I were enjoying une tasse de chocolat chaud there now.

Instead, I'll let Monet and Debussy transport me there:

Vive la France.

Empress of the Americas

2010-12-11T21:55:00.001-08:00

HAIL, O Virgin of Guadalupe, Empress of America!
Keep forever under thy powerful patronage
the purity and integrity of Our Holy Faith
on the entire American continent. Amen.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us,
keep us under thy mantle and be our salvation.

It is suggested that three Hail Marys be recited for North, Central and South America.

-Pope Pius XII

Was Medieval England more Merrie than thought?

2010-12-07T20:42:00.000-08:00

Medieval England was not only far more prosperous than previously believed, it also actually boasted an average income that would be more than double the average per capita income of the world's poorest nations today, according to new research.

Living standards in medieval England were far above the "bare bones subsistence" experience of people in many of today's poor countries, a study says.

"The majority of the British population in medieval times could afford to consume what we call a 'respectability basket' of consumer goods that allowed for occasional luxuries," said University of Warwick economist Professor Stephen Broadberry, who led the research.

"By the late Middle Ages, the English people were in a position to afford a varied diet including meat, dairy produce and ale, as well as the less highly processed grain products that comprised the bulk of the bare bones subsistence diet," he added.

Read more at Le Fleur de Lys Too. In the meantime, some Old English music in honour of Our Lady on the feast of her Immaculate Conception:

Our wounded nature's solitary boast

2010-12-07T20:18:00.000-08:00

Our soul overflows with joy and our tongue with exultation. We give, and we shall continue to give, the humblest and deepest thanks to Jesus Christ, our Lord, because through his singular grace he has granted to us, unworthy though we be, to decree and offer this honor and glory and praise to his most holy Mother. All our hope do we repose in the most Blessed Virgin -- in the all fair and immaculate one who has crushed the poisonous head of the most cruel serpent and brought salvation to the world: in her who is the glory of the prophets and apostles, the honor of the martyrs, the crown and joy of all the saints; in her who is the safest refuge and the most trustworthy helper of all who are in danger; in her who, with her only-begotten Son, is the most powerful Mediatrix and Conciliatrix in the whole world; in her who is the most excellent glory, ornament, and impregnable stronghold of the holy Church; in her who has destroyed all heresies and snatched the faithful people and nations from all kinds of direst calamities; in her do we hope who has delivered us from so many threatening dangers. We have, therefore, a very certain hope and complete confidence that the most Blessed Virgin will ensure by her most powerful patronage that all difficulties be removed and all errors dissipated, so that our Holy Mother the Catholic Church may flourish daily more and more throughout all the nations and countries, and may reign "from sea to sea and from the river to the ends of the earth," and may enjoy genuine peace, tranquility and liberty. We are firm in our confidence that she will obtain pardon for the sinner, health for the sick, strength of heart for the weak, consolation for the afflicted, help for those in danger; that she will remove spiritual blindness from all who are in error, so that they may return to the path of truth and justice, and that here may be one flock and one shepherd.

Let all the children of the Catholic Church, who are so very dear to us, hear these words of ours. With a still more ardent zeal for piety, religion and love, let them continue to venerate, invoke and pray to the most Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, conceived without original sin. Let them fly with utter confidence to this most sweet Mother of mercy and grace in all dangers, difficulties, needs, doubts and fears. Under her guidance, under her patronage, under her kindness and protection, nothing is to be feared; nothing is hopeless. Because, while bearing toward us a truly motherly affection and having in her care the work of our salvation, she is solicitous about the whole human race. And since she has been appointed by God to be the Queen of heaven and earth, and is exalted above all the choirs of angels and saints, and even stands at the right hand of her only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, she presents our petitions in a most efficacious manner. What she asks, she obtains. Her pleas can never be unheard.

Blessed Pope Pius IX
Ineffabilis Deus

Dorothy Day

2010-12-04T16:36:00.000-08:00

This week was commemorated the thirtieth anniversary of the death of perhaps the greatest advocate for an authentically Catholic view of that much-maligned phrase, social justice, in the 20th century. When we hear of social justice, we often think of progressive-inspired Social Gospel types, or of crypto-Marxist liberation theologians. The Catholic Worker is emphatically not any of these, to wit:

Dorothy explained why perhaps other Catholics would not understand the Catholic Workers when they criticized capitalism and recommended distributism, even reporting them to the Bishop: "We were not taking the position of the great mass of Catholics, who were quite content with the present in this world. They were quite willing to give to the poor, but they did not feel called upon to work for the things of this life for others which they themselves esteemed so lightly. Our insistence on worker-ownership, on the right of private property, on the need to de-proletarize the worker, all points which had been emphasized by the Popes in their social encyclicals, made many Catholics think we were Communists in disguise, wolves in sheep's clothing."

Dorothy continued, "The Vatican paper warned us recently of regarding Americanism or Communism as the only two alternatives. It is hard to see why our criticism of capitalism should have aroused such protest" (William Miller, Dorothy Day: a Biography, Harper and Row, 1982, p. 428).

Dorothy quoted Joseph T. Nolan from Orate Fratres on the support of Popes in their encyclicals for the CW position: "Too long has idle talk made out of Distributism as something medieval and myopic, as if four modern popes were somehow talking nonsense when they said: the law should favor widespread ownership (Leo XIII); land is the most natural form of property (Leo XIII and Pius XII); wages should enable a man to purchase land (Leo XIII and Pius XI); the family is most perfect when rooted in its own holding (Pius XII); agriculture is the first and most important of all the arts and the tiller of the soil still represents the natural order of things willed by God (Pius XII) (Catholic Worker, July-Aug. 1948). More

Hat tip to Joshua Snyder at The Western Confucian.

Saint Andrew

2010-11-30T12:20:00.000-08:00

Today is celebrated the first-called apostle, St. Andrew, brother of St. Peter. In the year 832, Pictish King Óengus II, before leading his armies into battle against the larger force of the Angles, prayed that victory may be his, and vowed that should he prevail, St. Andrew would become the patron saint of Scotland. In the midst of the battle, Óengus looked up to see the clouds forming the saltire upon which St. Andrew was crucified against the blue sky. Victorious, he remembered his promise and adopted St. Andrew as patron saint of Scotland. Moreover, the white cross against the blue sky eventually became Scotland's flag.

The air to which "Scots Wha Hae" is set, incidentally, was reportedly played when Jehanne arrived in Orléans to break the English siege.

St. Andrew also founded the See of Constantinople, and is the patron saint of Greece, Russia, and several other Orthodox countries. Let us ask our gracious Lord through the intercession of St. Andrew to watch over and guide his successor, His All-Holiness Bartholomew I, Ecumenical Patriarch, and to move those ancient and venerable churches of the East into ever closer union with the Church of Rome.
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Deus vult!

2010-11-27T19:16:00.000-08:00

On November 27, 1095, Blessed Pope Urban II called at the Council of Clermont for a Crusade against the heathen and for the relief of the distressed Greeks:

Oh, race of Franks, race from across the mountains, race chosen and beloved by God as shines forth in very many of your works set apart from all nations by the situation of your country, as well as by your catholic faith and the honor of the holy church! To you our discourse is addressed and for you our exhortation is intended. We wish you to know what a grievous cause has led us to Your country, what peril threatening you and all the faithful has brought us.

From the confines of Jerusalem and the city of Constantinople a horrible tale has gone forth and very frequently has been brought to our ears, namely, that a race from the kingdom of the Persians, an accursed race, a race utterly alienated from God, a generation forsooth which has not directed its heart and has not entrusted its spirit to God, has invaded the lands of those Christians and has depopulated them by the sword, pillage and fire; it has led away a part of the captives into its own country, and a part it has destroyed by cruel tortures; it has either entirely destroyed the churches of God or appropriated them for the rites of its own religion. They destroy the altars, after having defiled them with their uncleanness. They circumcise the Christians, and the blood of the circumcision they either spread upon the altars or pour into the vases of the baptismal font. When they wish to torture people by a base death, they perforate their navels, and dragging forth the extremity of the intestines, bind it to a stake; then with flogging they lead the victim around until the viscera having gushed forth the victim falls prostrate upon the ground. Others they bind to a post and pierce with arrows. Others they compel to extend their necks and then, attacking them with naked swords, attempt to cut through the neck with a single blow. What shall I say of the abominable rape of the women? To speak of it is worse than to be silent. The kingdom of the Greeks is now dismembered by them and deprived of territory so vast in extent that it can not be traversed in a march of two months. On whom therefore is the labor of avenging these wrongs and of recovering this territory incumbent, if not upon you? You, upon whom above other nations God has conferred remarkable glory in arms, great courage, bodily activity, and strength to humble the hairy scalp of those who resist you.

Let the deeds of your ancestors move you and incite your minds to manly achievements; the glory and greatness of king Charles the Great, and of his son Louis, and of your other kings, who have destroyed the kingdoms of the pagans, and have extended in these lands the territory of the holy church. Let the holy sepulchre of the Lord our Saviour, which is possessed by unclean nations, especially incite you, and the holy places which are now treated with ignominy and irreverently polluted with their filthiness. Oh, most valiant soldiers and descendants of invincible ancestors, be not degenerate, but recall the valor of your progenitors.

But if you are hindered by love of children, parents and wives, remember what the Lord says in the Gospel, "He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." "Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake shall receive an hundredfold and shall inherit everlasting life." Let none of your possessions detain you, no solicitude for your family affairs, since this land which you inhabit, shut in on all sides by the seas and surrounded by the mountain peaks, is too narrow for your large population; nor does it abound in wealth; and it furnishes scarcely food enough for its cultivators. Hence it is that you murder one another, that you wage war, and that frequently you perish by mutual wounds. Let therefore hatred depart from among you, let your quarrels end, let wars cease, and let all dissensions and controversies slumber. Enter upon the road to the Holy Sepulchre; wrest that land from the wicked race, and subject it to yourselves. That land which as the Scripture says "floweth with milk and honey," was given by God into the possession of the children of Israel Jerusalem is the navel of the world; the land is fruitful above others, like another paradise of delights. This the Redeemer of the human race has made illustrious by His advent, has beautified by residence, has consecrated by suffering, has redeemed by death, has glorified by burial. This royal city, therefore, situated at the centre of the world, is now held captive by His enemies, and is in subjection to those who do not know God, to the worship of the heathens. She seeks therefore and desires to be liberated, and does not cease to implore you to come to her aid. From you especially she asks succor, because, as we have already said, God has conferred upon you above all nations great glory in arms. Accordingly undertake this journey for the remission of your sins, with the assurance of the imperishable glory of the kingdom of heaven.

When Pope Urban had said these and very many similar things in his urbane discourse, he so influenced to one purpose the desires of all who were present, that they cried out, "It is the will of God! It is the will of God!" When the venerable Roman pontiff heard that, with eyes uplifted to heaven he gave thanks to God and, with his hand commanding silence, said:

Most beloved brethren, today is manifest in you what the Lord says in the Gospel, "Where two or three are gathered together in my name there am I in the midst of them." Unless the Lord God had been present in your spirits, all of you would not have uttered the same cry. For, although the cry issued from numerous mouths, yet the origin of the cry was one. Therefore I say to you that God, who implanted this in your breasts, has drawn it forth from you. Let this then be your war-cry in combats, because this word is given to you by God. When an armed attack is made upon the enemy, let this one cry be raised by all the soldiers of God: It is the will of God! It is the will of God!

And we do not command or advise that the old or feeble, or those unfit for bearing arms, undertake this journey; nor ought women to set out at all, without their husbands or brothers or legal guardians. For such are more of a hindrance than aid, more of a burden than advantage. Let the rich aid the needy; and according to their wealth, let them take with them experienced soldiers. The priests and clerks of any order are not to go without the consent of their bishop; for this journey would profit them nothing if they went without permission of these. Also, it is not fitting that laymen should enter upon the pilgrimage without the blessing of their priests.

Whoever, therefore, shall determine upon this holy pilgrimage and shall make his vow to God to that effect and shall offer himself to Him as a, living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, shall wear the sign of the cross of the Lord on his forehead or on his breast. When,' truly',' having fulfilled his vow be wishes to return, let him place the cross on his back between his shoulders. Such, indeed, by the twofold action will fulfill the precept of the Lord, as He commands in the Gospel, "He that taketh not his cross and followeth after me, is not worthy of me."

--Robert the Monk

Advent

2010-11-27T18:26:00.000-08:00

Rorate coeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

Ne irascaris, Domine, ne ultra memineris iniquitatis:
Ecce civitas sancti facta est deserta:
Sion deserta facta est: Ierusalem desolata est:
Domus sanctificationis tuae et gloriae tuae,
Ubi laudaverunt patres nostri.

Rorate coeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

Peccavimus, et facti sumus tamquam immundus nos,
Et cicidimus quasi folium universi:
Et iniquitatis nostrae quasi ventus abstulerunt nos:
Abscondisti faciem tuam a nobis,
Et allisisti nos in manu iniquitatis nostrae.

Rorate coeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

Vide, Domine, afflictionem populi tui,
Et mitte quam missurus es:
Emitte Agnum dominatorem terrae,
De petra deserti ad montem filiae Sion
Ut auferat ipse iugum captivitatis nostrae.

Rorate coeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

Consolamini, consolamini, popule meus:
Cito veniet salus tua:
Quare moerore consumeris, quia innovavit dolor?
Salvabo te, noli timere, ego enim sum Dominus Deus tuus,
Sanctus Israel, Redemptor tuus.

Rorate coeli desuper, et nubes pluant iustum.

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Come home, America

2010-11-25T22:27:00.000-08:00

An antidote to the conspicuous consumption we will surely see on this day. Already at the local shopping centres, people are lining up so they can be the first into the stores. This attitude is not what made our country great, and has caused not only ourselves, but the world over, to sink into the grips of recession.

For the sake of future generations, stop this silliness at once. We have our families and our friends, our mountains and our oceans, our faith and our customs. What we scorn as hokey and corny our ancestors once took as the royal purple. So ironic it is that after giving thanks for what we have, we should callously trample on security guards that we might have more.

America, that day is done. If you seek to be a leader in the world, come home now, and show the virtues that have made us a great nation, and (not just Americans, but all of us Westerners) a great culture in the past.

This blog post is dedicated to a darling little girl whom I sadly won't be able to visit today.

Thanksgiving for Catholics

2010-11-24T21:30:00.000-08:00

The Americans have established a Thanksgiving Day to celebrate the fact that the Pilgrim Fathers reached America. The English might very well establish another Thanksgiving Day; to celebrate the happy fact that the Pilgrim Fathers left England. I know that this is still regarded as a historical heresy, by those who have long ceased to worry about a religious heresy. For while these persons still insist that the Pilgrim Fathers were champions of religious liberty, nothing is more certain than the fact that an ordinary modern liberal, sailing with them, would have found no liberty, and would have intensely disliked all that he found of religion. Even Thanksgiving Day itself, though it is now kept in a most kindly and charming fashion by numbers of quite liberal and large-minded Americans, was originally intended, I believe, as a sort of iconoclastic expedient for destroying the celebration of Christmas. The Puritans everywhere had a curious and rabid dislike of Christmas; which does not encourage me, for one, to develop a special and spiritual fervour for Puritanism. Oddly enough, however, the Puritan tradition in America has often celebrated Thanksgiving Day by often eliminating the Christmas Pudding, but preserving the Christmas Turkey. I do not know why, unless the name of Turkey reminded them of the Prophet of Islam, who was also the first Prophet of Prohibition.

G.K. Chesterton
What I Saw in America

Thanksgiving Day is far from my favourite holiday. For one, as the great Chesterton intimates above, it seems a parody of the secular celebration of a religious feast--not just Christmas, as Chesterton mentioned (though since his writing, they've sure done quite a number on that), but also Martinmas, Twelfth Night, and all the winter festivals on the Church's calendar celebrated so merrily by our ancestors. Certainly the feast has quasi-religious overtones, but the religion celebrated therein is not mine, but rather the civil religion of Americanism, to which it seems the almost all of my co-citizens, not just even but especially Catholics, adhere. I reside in Massachusetts, indeed the historic nest of Puritanism, which has nonetheless one of the proportionally largest Catholic populations in the United States. So does that make Massachusetts a Catholic state? Hardly, for Americanization has turned the vast majority of my co-religionists here into cultural Puritans, even though actual descendants of Mayflower passengers are hard to find here today.

As my line in Canada was often at war with the Puritans' line, I find it almost a betrayal of my ancestors to submit to these most radical of rebels against the Church, then in the American Revolution rebels against their King (an Anglican Church and Hanover King, moreover; even the original political and religious rebellions of England were not radical enough for them). Long questioning the propriety of celebrating Thanksgiving Day, with these origins, I come to the conclusion that a national day of thanksgiving be acceptable, so long as it does not obtrude on the religious calendar, but that any celebration of the Pilgrim Fathers is not for a Catholic, especially one of French-Canadian descent as myself.

So where does that leave me? Shall the Thanksgiving feast be moved to what is here known as Columbus Day, as it is in Canada currently, in celebration of the New World being opened to our ancestors (not just English, and not just French, moreover), and in thanksgiving for the extensive Christianization of the Americas? As it is a civil holiday already, such would make sense, with the November holiday treated just as the October holiday is now, another day off. Or shall it be moved to the feast of St. Martin, the favourite of saints among the poilus in the trenches of the Great War, again a public holiday as Veterans' or Armistice or Remembrance Day, in thanksgiving for the peace in which we live and the peace that came about on his feast after certainly numerous petitions to him from the front? These are both excellent ideas indeed, and can be treated additionally to the late November holiday, but let me add another possibility.

Thanksgiving Day always falls shortly before the First Sunday of Advent, and Advent should have a somewhat penitential character. (No, it is not the "holiday season"; perhaps the greatest penance so many of us could observe is refraining from the materialism so inherent therein.) And so we have a civil holiday right before this season of preparation; in other words, a sort of early-winter Mardi Gras, and a celebration of thanksgiving for all that has come to pass within the ending liturgical year. So does it become us to make merry and celebrate the great bounty our gracious God has laid before us before the four weeks of preparing our souls to run with the shepherds of Bethlehem to the Infant-King in His manger? I very well think that it does. Is there precedent for this?

Certainly, a celebration of the feast given by Don Juan de Oñote, the conquistador who took New Mexico for the Church and for Spain is well in order, a reminder of the thanks to be given to the Lord in all things. Oñote's feast preceded that of the Puritans, occurred on American soil, and involved a Mass and the many priests who travelled with his expedition. Our feast can indeed be a memorial of Oñote's feast.

Bur more directly related to the season to come, it so appears that we can even celebrate the Puritans' feast to some extent. Any schoolchild can probably tell you that what enabled to Pilgrims to survive was agricultural assistance given them by the Indian Squanto. Apparently, Squanto was Catholic. He was redeemed from slavery by Spanish Franciscans and thereafter baptized and instructed in the faith. One must wonder how different history would be had he shared the same faith as his Puritan neighbours.

Likely he would then have seen their poor harvests as a sign that they were not elect, as God did not grace their work that they might prosper, and the Pilgrims would then have starved or frozen to death. But no, Squanto, the real hero of the feast, likely remembered what the Little Brothers of Christ had taught him about the criterion of our judgement: "as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren..." The English had once enslaved him, but coming on these poor Englishmen in a dire situation, Squanto surely did not look on them as reprobates who got what they deserved, but remembered how Our Lord had commanded that we love our enemies. As we consider at the turning of the liturgical year that Christ will come again to judge us, we would do well to use this little reflection to examine our conscience as we prepare to celebrate his first coming, give alms as generously as we can, and become those "men of good will" to whom the holy angels granted peace when first heralding God among us.

And so, contrary to Puritan mores, I pour a glass of America's great native drink, bourbon whiskey, and invite you, readers, to join me in a toast--to Don Oñote and to Squanto. May these true American heroes never be forgotten. Now go forth and revel!

Notes from around

2010-11-22T21:24:00.000-08:00

There are a few overdue notes to which some links are in order:

To begin, recently was commemorated the bicentennial of the Mexican Republic. Readers will know that I'm not a great supporter of republics, and I'm certainly not blind to the sins of the Mexican Republic, particularly during its most anticlerical periods, such as the Cristero War, the execution of the Emperor Maximilian, and so forth. Nonetheless, throughout all the tumult, though Mexico may often have forgotten Our Lady of Guadalupe, I highly doubt Our Lady of Guadalupe has forgotten Mexico. Andrew Cusack has recently posted much about Mexico, which can be found here.

Next, 125 years ago this past week was executed the Father of Manitoba Louis Riel for treason. Whether Riel should be considered a hero to his Catholic, traditional Métis people or a traitor to the Crown and the Canadian provinces he helped create, a noble and faithful chief or a crazed, self-anointed prophet, is one of the open questions of the history of the North American continent to my mind. Depending on whom one asks in Canada to this day, Riel is either Charlemagne or Che Guevara. I thus leave the reader to draw whichever conclusion he may about Riel's revolts. Having the great Canadian voyageur well-represented in my bloodline, though, I send my warm and affectionate regards to my cousins on the prairie on this occasion. Vive les Métis!

Furthermore, recently several anniversaries of Charles De Gaulle, the liberator of France and almost universally acclaimed the greatest president of the French Republic, have passed: the 120th anniversary of his birth and the 40th anniversary of his death. I've often cited the example of De Gaulle as evidence that France is by nature a monarchy. In the midst of national crisis, Monsieur le Président was made president by acclamation (like a monarch) and the constitution of the Fifth French Republic was written explicitly to accord with his style of government (like a monarch), his strong rule saving France as a prime player upon the international stage, under the sway of no other land.

Lastly, His Imperial and Royal Highness Dr. Otto von Habsburg celebrates his 98th birthday. Though he has never taken a throne, his long life is exemplary for a royal in this age, whether crowned or uncrowned. Thanks to J.K. Baltzerson at Wilson Revolution Unplugged for this image and link.

At long last

2010-11-17T21:27:00.000-08:00

It was announced today that HRH Prince William of Wales and Miss Kate Middleton will marry--an announcement that we have been anticipating for years now. We at Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet are overjoyed to offer our congratulations to the future King and Queen of the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and the many other Commonwealth realms.

Sadly, I heard a radio commentator earlier today souring the joy of this event for all of us by talking about what would happen were this couple ever to divorce--this before they are even married. I actually shouted (as though this commentator could actually hear me) that he should mind his impudent tongue and not attempt to sour the joy of the happy couple, of their families (particularly of Her Majesty), and of the world at large with his cynicism. It gravely disappoints me that the pundits should turn so immediately to naysaying but a few hours after Clarence House made the official announcement.

God save the Queen.

Henryk Górecki, RIP

2010-11-12T14:26:00.000-08:00

We receive the sad report today that Henryk Górecki, one of the finest composers of our age, died earlier today. I recall discovering his Third Symphony, the second movement of which is performed above, when I was but an adolescent, and locking myself in my room to listen to it over and over again. Górecki here talks about the libretto of this movement:

In prison, the whole wall was covered with inscriptions screaming out loud: "I'm innocent," "Murderers," "Executioners," "Free me," "You have to save me"—it was all so loud, so banal. Adults were writing this, while here it is an eighteen-year-old girl, almost a child. And she is so different. She does not despair, does not cry, does not scream for revenge. She does not think about herself; whether she deserves her fate or not. Instead, she only thinks about her mother: because it is her mother who will experience true despair. This inscription was something extraordinary. And it really fascinated me: "Mother, do not cry, no. The purest Queen of Heaven, you always support me. Hail Mary." Here the inscription ended and I added: "You are full of grace." Not "Full of grace" as it is in the prayer, but "You are full of. . ."

Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in pace. Amen.

St. Martin of Tours

2010-11-11T14:10:00.000-08:00

So far as I can tell, the ancestral village of the house of Palardy is St-Martin-Hermine-en-Lars in the Vendée. I have no doubt that St. Martin evangelized many of my ancestors in his great missions throughout western Gaul.

His cloak was a sacred relic of the Royal House of France, and Clovis credited his victories to St. Martin's intercession, leading to the baptism of France in 496. Indeed, one would not be incorrect to consider St. Martin's cloak the first flag of France. His abbey in Tours was among the most prominent in France, a place a pilgrimage, and even granted by Charlemagne to his trusted advisor Alcuin. After the rediscovery of St. Martin's tomb in 1860, devotion to him became resurgent in the French Army amidst all the tumult of the Franco-Prussian War and the anti-clericalism of the Third Republic. Despite the attempts of the government to wipe this devotion out, it came back powerfully in the trenches of the Great War, leading to that tragic war ending on Martinmas, 1918.

St. Martin, priez pour nous.

Accordingly, at a certain period, when he had nothing except his arms and his simple military dress, in the middle of winter, a winter which had shown itself more severe than ordinary, so that the extreme cold was proving fatal to many, he happened to meet at the gate of the city of Amiens a poor man destitute of clothing. He was entreating those that passed by to have compassion upon him, but all passed the wretched man without notice, when Martin, that man full of God, recognized that a being to whom others showed no pity, was, in that respect, left to him. Yet, what should he do? He had nothing except the cloak in which he was clad, for he had already parted with the rest of his garments for similar purposes. Taking, therefore, his sword with which he was girt, he divided his cloak into two equal parts, and gave one part to the poor man, while he again clothed himself with the remainder. Upon this, some of the by-standers laughed, because he was now an unsightly object, and stood out as but partly dressed. Many, however, who were of sounder understanding, groaned deeply because they themselves had done nothing similar. They especially felt this, because, being possessed of more than Martin, they could have clothed the poor man without reducing themselves to nakedness. In the following night, when Martin had resigned himself to sleep, he had a vision of Christ arrayed in that part of his cloak with which he had clothed the poor man.

He contemplated the Lord with the greatest attention, and was told to own as his the robe which he had given. Ere long, he heard Jesus saying with a clear voice to the multitude of angels standing round -- "Martin, who is still but a catechumen, clothed me with this robe." The Lord, truly mindful of his own words (who had said when on earth -- "Inasmuch as ye have done these things to one of the least of these, ye have done them unto me), declared that he himself had been clothed in that poor man; and to confirm the testimony he bore to so good a deed, he condescended to show him himself in that very dress which the poor man had received. After this vision the sainted man was not puffed up with human glory, but, acknowledging the goodness of God in what had been done, and being now of the age of twenty years, he hastened to receive baptism. He did not, however, all at once, retire from military service, yielding to the entreaties of his tribune, whom he admitted to be his familiar tent-companion. For the tribune promised that, after the period of his office had expired, he too would retire from the world. Martin, kept back by the expectation of this event, continued, although but in name, to act the part of a soldier, for nearly two years after he had received baptism.

--Sulpicius Severus, Life of St. Martin

Santiago

2010-11-10T20:02:00.000-08:00

As the Pope has recently visited the great shrine of Santiago de Compostela, I am pleased to repost a brief essay I wrote last year:

Son of Zebedee and brother to St. John, St. James was called with his brother from his father's fishing boat by Jesus with the promise that He would make them "fishers of men." The brothers, together with St. Peter, became like an inner group among the Apostles, witnessing the Transfiguration and going with Our Lord to Gethsamane. He was the first of the Twelve to receive the martyr's crown, a request presaged by Jesus' words upon James and John requesting that they may sit one on His right and one on His left in the kingdom of heaven, and this after He had just prophesied His passion: "You shall indeed drink of the chalice that I drink of: and with the baptism wherewith I am baptized, you shall be baptized." He was beheaded by Herod Agrippa. That is when his story begins to become quite interesting.

The primary place of St. James' cult is Spain, specifically Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, a place that has come to be almost synonymous with pilgrimage. To this day, hundreds of thousands come each year to the Cathedral of Santiago, festooned with the scallop shell as the mark of the pilgrim, and always walking the last 100 km (or bicycling the last 200 km), to venerate the relics of Saint James. Pious tradition relates that St. James had preached to the Celtiberians before returing to Jerusalem for his martyrdom, and that his relics were miraculously translated to Galicia by angels. Pilgrims have come to this site since the time of Charlemagne, making this one of the great and ancient traditions of Christendom. Indeed, readers, the Camino de Santiago is one of the pilgrimages I hope to undertake in my lifetime.

However, the tale of St. James scarcely ends with the establishment of the pilgrimage, for when the pilgrimage began, most of Iberia was under the rule of the Muslim Moors. It is reported that the vastly outnumbered Christian army of Ramiro I of Asturias made battle against the Moorish Emir of Córdoba in 844 near Clavijo in La Rioja, and that St. James miraculously appeared to lead the Spaniards to victory, earning him the soubriquet "Santiago Matamoros," St. James the Moor-Slayer. Thence arrived the Spanish war-cry, "¡Santiago y cierra España!" (Saint James and strike for Spain!) This war-cry was shouted as the Iberian peninsula was reconquered from the Muslims; it was uttered at sea in the Gulf of Patras where the ships of Spain and the Holy League through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary defended Rome and Western Europe from Turkish invasion; it resounded as Cortés and the Amerind tribes allied to him ended Montezuma's empire and the barbaric human sacrifices therein, that Our Lady may place her image on a simple Aztec peasant's cloak, and make Spanish the native language of more Catholics today than any other language; it was heard as a Galician general routed Soviet-supported anti-clerical republicans in an attempt to preserve a Catholic Spain and a Spanish monarchy; it begat a great Catholic empire, the first on which the sun never set, giving us such great and holy saints as Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, and Ignatius of Loyola. Therefore, we pray Santiago to lead us to victory again today, to intercede with Our Lord that the enemies of His holy Church yet again be routed, and that we may once more be that Christendom that flocked to his holy shrine in Galicia.

I include here a brief video of the Botafumeiro, the cathedral's famed giant censer:

Remembrance

2010-11-10T17:47:00.000-08:00

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead; short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae
Canadian Army Medical Corps

In tribute to the fallen of the war that destroyed our beloved Western civilization, and by extension to all those fallen on the battlefield, yesterday as well as today. May they always be remembered.

To those of Germany and Austria:

To those of the United States:

To those of Great Britain and her Commonwealth:

To those of France:

soldat 1914-1918
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And to those of Russia, Italy, Belgium, and all other nations who lost a generation to the gas, the shells, and the machine guns. Let us pray earnestly that such an ordeal may never again fall upon our civilization, and that Our Good Lord may, in His mercy, "enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death... [and] direct our feet into the path of peace."

Miserere nobis, Domine.

I see no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot

2010-11-05T12:37:00.000-07:00

The first active step (24 May, 1604) was to hire as a lodging Mr. Whynniard's tenement, which lay close to the House of Parliament, and had a garden that stretched down towards the Thames. But no sooner was this taken than a government committee claimed the right of sitting there, so the preparations for mining had to be postponed for six months. Before Christmas, however, they had opened a mine from the ground floor of their house, and advanced as far as the wall of the House of Lords; then they made slow progress in working their way through its medieval masonry. In March, however, they discovered that the cellar of the House of Lords might be hired, and on Lady Day, 1605, a bargain was struck for that purpose. They had now only to carry in their powder, and cover it with faggots of firewood, and the first part of their task had been accomplished with surprising facility. They then separated, to make preparations for what should follow when the blow was struck. For this it was necessary to procure more money, and by consequence to admit more members. Five were mentioned before, and five more, Christopher Wright, Robert Keyes, Thomas Bates, Robert Winter, and John Grant had been added since. Three richer men were now sworn in, Ambrose Rookwood, Sir Everard Digby, and lastly, Francis Tresham. It was this thirteenth man who has been generally believed to have caused the detection of the plot, by a letter sent to his cousin Lord Monteagle on 26 October. This mysterious document, which is still extant, is written in a feigned hand, with an affectation if illiterateness and in the obscurest of styles. The recipient was warned against attending Parliament on the day appointed, and hints were added as to the specific character of a "terrible blow" that would befall it. "There [will] be no appearance of any stir"; "they shall not see who hurt them"; "the danger will be past as soon as you have burnt this letter." Monteagle, having received this letter, first caused it to be read aloud at his table before some mutual friends of the conspirators, then he took it to the government. more here and here

For the Faithful Departed

2010-11-02T09:51:00.000-07:00

The legend connected with its foundation is given by Peter Damiani in his Life of St Odilo: a pilgrim returning from the Holy Land was cast by a storm on a desolate island. A hermit living there told him that amid the rocks was a chasm communicating with purgatory, from which perpetually rose the groans of tortured souls. The hermit also claimed he had heard the demons complaining of the efficacy of the prayers of the faithful, and especially the monks of Cluny, in rescuing their victims. Upon returning home, the pilgrim hastened to inform the abbot of Cluny, who then set 2 November as a day of intercession on the part of his community for all the souls in purgatory. more

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace. Amen.

In your kindness, please remember H.S. and A.H. today. My many thanks.

All of our friends, known and unknown, in the triumph of God's glory, pray for us

2010-11-01T18:35:00.000-07:00

V. Kyrie, eléison.
R. Christe, eléison.
V. Kyrie, eléison.
V. Christe, audi nos.
R. Christe, exáudi nos.

V. Pater de cælis, Deus.
R. Miserére nobis.
V. Fili, Redémptor mundi, Deus.
R. Miserére nobis.

V. Spíritus Sancte, Deus.
R. Miserére nobis.

V. Sancta Trínitas, unus Deus.
R. Miserére nobis.
V. Sancta María.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Dei Génitrix.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Virgo vírginum.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Míchaël.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Gábriel.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Ráphaël.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Angeli et Archángeli.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti beatórum Spirítuum órdines.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancte Joánnes Baptísta.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Joseph.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Patriárchæ et Prophétæ.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancte Petre.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Paule.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Andréa.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Jacóbe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Joánnes.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Thoma.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Jacóbe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Philíppe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Bartholomæe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Matthæe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Simon.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Thaddæe.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Matthía.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Bárnaba.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Luca.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Marce.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Apóstoli et Evangelístæ.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Discípuli Dómini.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Innocéntes.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancte Stéphane.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Laurénti.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Vincénti.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancti Fabiáne et Sebastiáne.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancti Joánnes et Paule.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancti Cosma et Damiáne.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancti Gervási et Protási.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Mártyres.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancte Silvéster.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Gregóri.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Ambrósi.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Augustíne.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Hierónyme.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Martíne.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Nicoláë.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Pontífices et Confessóres.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Doctóres.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancte Antóni.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Benedícte.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Bernárde.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Domínice.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancte Francísce.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Sacerdótes et Levítæ.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes sancti Mónachi et Eremítæ.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Sancta María Magdaléna.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Agatha.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Lúcia.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Agnes.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Cæcília.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Catharína.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Sancta Anastásia.
R. Ora pro nobis.
V. Omnes sanctæ Vírgines et Víduæ.
R. Oráte pro nobis.
V. Omnes Sancti et Sanctæ Dei.
R. Intercédite pro nobis.
V. Propítius esto.
R. Parce nobis, Dómine.
V. Propítius esto.
R. Exáudi nos, Dómine.
V. Ab omni malo.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Ab omni peccáto.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Ab ira tua.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A subitánea et improvísa morte.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Ab insídiis diáboli.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Ab ira, et ódio, et omni mala voluntáte.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A spíritu fornicatiónis.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A fúlgure et tempestáte.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A flagéllo terræmótus.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A peste, fame et bello.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. A morte perpétua.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per mystérium sanctæ Incarnatiónis tuæ.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per advéntum tuum.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per nativitátem tuam.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per baptísmum et sanctum jejúnium tuum.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per crucem et passiónem tuam.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per mortem et sepultúram tuam.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per sanctam resurrectiónem tuam.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per admirábilem ascensiónem tuam.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Per advéntum Spíritus Sancti Parácliti.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. In die judícii.
R. Líbera nos, Dómine.
V. Peccatóres.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos. V. Ut nobis parcas.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos. V. Ut nobis indúlgeas.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut ad veram pœniténtiam nos perdúcere dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut Ecclésiam tuam sanctam régere et conserváre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut domnum Apostólicum et omnes ecclesiásticos órdines in sancta religióne conserváre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut inimícos sanctæ Ecclésiæ humiliáre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut régibus et princípibus christiánis pacem et veram concórdiam donáre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut cuncto pópulo christiáno pacem et unitátem largíri dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut omnes errántes ad unitátem Ecclésiæ revocáre, et infidéles univérsos ad Evangélii lumen perdúcere dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut nosmetípsos in tuo sancto servítio confortáre et conserváre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut mentes nostras ad cæléstia desidéria érigas.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut ómnibus benefactóribus nostris sempitérna bona retríbuas.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut ánimas nostras, fratrum, propinquórum et benefactórum nostrórum ab ætérna damnatióne erípias.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut fructus terræ dare et conserváre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut ómnibus fidélibus defúnctis réquiem ætérnam donáre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Ut nos exaudíre dignéris.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Fili Dei.
R. Te rogámus, audi nos.
V. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi.
R. Parce nobis, Dómine.

V. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi.
R. Exáudi nos, Dómine.
V. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi.
R. Miserére nobis.
V. Christe, audi nos.
R. Christe, exáudi nos.
V. Kyrie, eléison.
R. Christe, eléison. Kyrie, eléison.
Pater noster.
secréto usque ad
V. Et ne nos indúcas in tentatiónem.
R. Sed líbera nos a malo.
Psalmus 69. Deus, in adjutorium
Deus, in adjutórium meum inténde : * Dómine ad adjuvándum me festína.
2 Confundántur et revereántur, * qui quærunt ánimam meam.
3 Avertántur retrórsum, et erubéscant, * qui volunt mihi mala.
4 Avertántur statim erubescéntes, * qui dicunt mihi : Euge, euge.
5 Exsúltent et læténtur in te omnes qui quærunt te, * et dicant semper : Magnificétur Dóminus : qui díligunt salutáre tuum.
6 Ego vero egénus, et pauper sum : * Deus, ádjuva me.
7 Adjútor meus, et liberátor meus es tu : * Dómine, ne moréris.
8 Glória Patri, et Fílio, et Spirítui Sancto.
9 Sicut erat in princípio, et nunc, et semper, * et in sæcula sæculórum. Amen.
V. Salvos fac servos tuos.
R. Deus meus, sperántes in te.
V. Esto nobis, Dómine, turris fortitúdinis.
R. A fácie inimíci.
V. Nihil profíciat inimícus in nobis.
R. Et fílius iniquitátis non appónat nocére nobis.
V. Dómine, non secúndum peccáta nostra fácias nobis.
R. Neque secúndum iniquitátes nostras retríbuas nobis.
V. Orémus pro Pontífice nostro Benedicto
R. Dóminus consérvet eum, et vivíficet eum, et beátum fáciat eum in terra, et non tradat eum in ánimam inimicórum ejus.
V. Orémus pro benefactóribus nostris.
R. Retribúere dignáre, Dómine, ómnibus, nobis bona faciéntibus propter nomen tuum, vitam ætérnam. Amen.
V. Orémus pro fidélibus defúnctis.
R. Réquiem ætérnam dona eis, Dómine, et lux perpétua lúceat eis.
V. Requiéscant in pace.
R. Amen.
V. Pro frátribus nostris abséntibus.
R. Salvos fac servos tuos, Deus meus, sperántes in te.
V. Mitte eis, Dómine, auxílium de sancto.
R. Et de Sion tuére eos.
V. Dómine, exáudi oratiónem meam.
R. Et clamor meus ad te véniat.
V. Dóminus vobíscum.
R. Et cum spíritu tuo.
Orémus. Oratio
Deus, cui próprium est miseréri semper et párcere : súscipe deprecatiónem nostram ; ut nos, et omnes fámulos tuos, quos delictórum caténa constríngit, miserátio tuæ pietátis cleménter absólvat.
Exáudi, quæsumus, Dómine, supplícium preces, et confiténtium tibi parce peccátis : ut páriter nobis indulgéntiam tríbuas benígnus et pacem.
Ineffábilem nobis, Dómine, misericórdiam tuam cleménter osténde : ut simul nos et a peccátis ómnibus éxuas, et a pœnis, quas pro his merémur, erípias.
Deus, qui culpa offénderis, pœniténtia placáris : preces pópuli tui supplicántis propítius réspice ; et flagélla tuæ iracúndiæ, quæ pro peccátis nostris merémur, avérte.
Omnípotens sempitérne Deus, miserére fámulo tuo Pontífici nostro Benedicto et dírige eum secúndum tuam cleméntiam in viam salútis ætérnæ : ut, te donánte, tibi plácita cúpiat, et tota virtúte perfíciat.
Deus, a quo sancta desidéria, recta consília et justa sunt ópera : da servis tuis illam, quam mundus dare non potest, pacem ; ut et corda nostra mandátis tuis dédita, et, hóstium subláta formídine, témpora sint, tua protectióne, tranquílla.
Ure igne Sancti Spíritus renes nostros et cor nostrum, Dómine : ut tibi casto córpore serviámus, et mundo corde placeámus.
Fidélium, Deus, ómnium cónditor et redémptor, animábus famulórum famularúmque tuárum remissiónem cunctórum tríbue peccatórum : ut indulgéntiam, quam semper optavérunt, piis supplicatiónibus consequántur.
Actiónes nostras, quæsumus, Dómine, aspirándo prævéni et adjuvándo proséquere : ut cuncta nostra orátio et operátio a te semper incípiat et per te cœpta finiátur.
Omnípotens sempiterne Deus, qui vivórum domináris simul et mortuórum, omniúmque miseréris quos tuos fide et ópere futúros esse prænóscis : te súpplices exorámus ; ut, pro quibus effúndere preces decrévimus, quosque vel præsens sæculum adhuc in carne rétinet vel futúrum jam exútos córpore suscépit, intercedéntibus ómnibus Sanctis tuis, pietátis tuæ cleméntia, ómnium delictórum suórum véniam consequántur. Per Dóminum nostrum Jesum Christum, Fílium tuum, qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitáte Spíritus Sancti, Deus, per ómnia sæcula sæculórum.
R. Amen.
V. Dóminus vobíscum.
R. Et cum spíritu tuo.
V. Exáudiat nos omnípotens et miséricors Dóminus.
R. Amen.
V. Et fidélium ánimæ † per misericórdiam Dei requiéscant in pace.
R. Amen.

More here.

¡Viva Cristo Rey!

2010-10-31T13:31:00.000-07:00

With the foolishness of the American election season upon us, with Jacobins, Whigs, Fabians, and Bonapartists of all varieties trying to sell their vacuous selves into the highest offices in the land with but carefully calculated buzzwords, and thus to further legitimate in the eyes of the general public their rebellion against the divine and reasonable and just order of human society--even the supposed conservatives among them ("Tea Party?")--and also with the 15th anniversary of the referendum that would have made been the first step of making a republic out of my beloved Québec being defeated by a razor-thin margin yesterday, it is providential that Mother Church, according to the traditional calendar, presents to us in solemn memorial the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, before Whom even the mightiest empire, with all its military force and sweeping plans for social improvement, is of as little substance as an anthill is to us.

Lest we ever think the social kingship of Christ may come about through statist means:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

Sic transit gloria mundi. Yet our sovereign King shall remain.

Thanks to James MacMillan and Musica Intima for the above.

Most sweet Jesus, Redeemer of the human race, look down upon us humbly prostrate before you. We are yours, and yours we wish to be; but to be more surely united with you, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to your Most Sacred Heart. Many indeed have never known you; many, too, despising your precepts, have rejected you. Have mercy on them all, most merciful Jesus, and draw them to your Sacred Heart. Be King, O Lord, not only of the faithful who have never forsaken you, but also of the prodigal children who have abandoned you; grant that they may quickly return to their Father's house, lest they die of wretchedness and hunger. Be King of those who are deceived by erroneous opinions, or whom discord keeps aloof, and call them back to the harbor of truth and the unity of faith, so that soon there may be but one flock and one Shepherd [particularly on this "Reformation Day"]. Grant, O Lord, to your Church assurance of freedom and immunity from harm; give tranquility of order to all nations; make the earth resound from pole to pole with one cry: Praise to the divine Heart that wrought our salvation; to it be glory and honor for ever. Amen.

For Hallowe'en

2010-10-30T14:19:00.000-07:00

"The Raven"
Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
''Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
''Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'Sir,' said I, 'or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, 'Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, 'Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, 'art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as 'Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered 'Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
'Doubtless,' said I, 'what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
'Wretch,' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
'Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Solesmes and Dom Guéranger

2010-10-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

In this month a millennium ago was founded a Benedictine monastery in Solesmes, a priory of the nearby abbey at Le Mans. Unlike such other antique monasteries as Monte Cassino or Cluny or Cîteaux, the importance of Solesmes lies not in its remote past, but rather in its much nearer history.

Throughout the modern period, monasticism, once and likely still the mystical core of the Church, diminished gravely, to the point that, the author of the linked article notes, only 30 Benedictine abbeys remained in Europe in the early 19th century. Even so fine an place as this was up for sale, and was bought by l'Abbé Prosper Guéranger, a local priest, and was soon made an abbey with Guéranger as abbot. Dom Guéranger came to make Solesmes a shining beacon of a Catholicism battered by revolution and apostasy, but still in the end triumphant over the world with Christ, her king and judge. Monastic life came to be renewed here, as well as Gregorian chant. The Liturgical Movement, so influential on such popes as St. Pius X and Benedict XVI, could even be said to have started here, and all affected by the revolutionism and iconoclasm so prevalent in this day, in Church and society alike, can look to the great work of Solesmes as both analogy and precursor to the struggles faced today.

Gary Potter and the Saint Benedict Center (always an excellent source) speak more about Dom Guéranger here:

We need to remember this was 1831. The liberal monarchy of Louis-Philippe was less than a year old. One of its first actions had been to crush the effort to revive a Trappist monastery in the Diocese of Nantes. (The monks were dispersed and the abbot thrown into prison.) Fr. Guéranger’s “aspirations” seemed pure folly in the circumstances.

Still, as he would write in another passage of his incomplete autobiography: “My youth, the complete lack of temporal resources, and the limited reliability of those with whom I hoped to associate — none of these things stopped me. I would not have dreamed of it; I felt myself pushed to proceed. I prayed with all my heart for the help of God; but it never occurred to me to ask His will concerning the projected work.”

That last statement may surprise us, but Dom Guéranger explains: “The need of the Church seemed to me so urgent, the ideas about true Christianity so falsified and so compromised in the lay and ecclesiastical worlds, that I felt nothing but an urgency to found some kind of center wherein to recollect and revive pure traditions.”

In Hoc Signo Vinces

2010-10-27T21:19:00.001-07:00

On this date in 312, after seeing the vision described below, Emperor Constantine I defeated Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge, paving the ground for his becoming undisputed emperor and ending the anarchy that had been engulfing the world for so long. Constantine became the first emperor to openly profess Christianity, and his reign could be considered the transition from the classical age to the age of Christendom.

Accordingly he called on him with earnest prayer and supplications that he would reveal to him who he was, and stretch forth his right hand to help him in his present difficulties. And while he was thus praying with fervent entreaty, a most marvelous sign appeared to him from heaven, the account of which it might have been hard to believe had it been related by any other person. But since the victorious emperor himself long afterwards declared it to the writer of this history, when he was honored with his acquaintance and society, and confirmed his statement by an oath, who could hesitate to accredit the relation, especially since the testimony of after-time has established its truth? He said that about noon, when the day was already beginning to decline, he saw with his own eyes the trophy of a cross of light in the heavens, above the sun, and bearing the inscription, Conquer by this. At this sight he himself was struck with amazement, and his whole army also, which followed him on this expedition, and witnessed the miracle.

He said, moreover, that he doubted within himself what the import of this apparition could be. And while he continued to ponder and reason on its meaning, night suddenly came on; then in his sleep the Christ of God appeared to him with the same sign which he had seen in the heavens, and commanded him to make a likeness of that sign which he had seen in the heavens, and to use it as a safeguard in all engagements with his enemies.

At dawn of day he arose, and communicated the marvel to his friends: and then, calling together the workers in gold and precious stones, he sat in the midst of them, and described to them the figure of the sign he had seen, bidding them represent it in gold and precious stones. And this representation I myself have had an opportunity of seeing.

Now it was made in the following manner. A long spear, overlaid with gold, formed the figure of the cross by means of a transverse bar laid over it. On the top of the whole was fixed a wreath of gold and precious stones; and within this, the symbol of the Saviour's name, two letters indicating the name of Christ by means of its initial characters, the letter P being intersected by X in its centre: and these letters the emperor was in the habit of wearing on his helmet at a later period. From the cross-bar of the spear was suspended a cloth, a royal piece, covered with a profuse embroidery of most brilliant precious stones; and which, being also richly interlaced with gold, presented an indescribable degree of beauty to the beholder. This banner was of a square form, and the upright staff, whose lower section was of great length, bore a golden half-length portrait of the pious emperor and his children on its upper part, beneath the trophy of the cross, and immediately above the embroidered banner.

The emperor constantly made use of this sign of salvation as a safeguard against every adverse and hostile power, and commanded that others similar to it should be carried at the head of all his armies.

--Eusebius, Life of Constantine

Port-Royal Captured, 1710

2010-10-24T17:12:00.001-07:00

A recent anniversary:

The handful of French soldiers defending Acadie were hungry and tired of war on Monday, October 6, 1710, when ships from New England returned to the Annapolis Basin, this time under the command of Francis Nicholson, and under the eye of Samuel Vetch, an ambitious Scotsman who had a promise of governorship of Canada if he could take it from the French. Vetch had put together the attacking force and made Nicholson it commander in chief.

This time, the siege lasted a week, but Subercase did not have the men or material he needed. On Saturday, October 11, Subercase wrote to Nicholson, "I now write to you to tell you, Sir, that for to (sic) prevent the spilling of both English and French Blood, I am ready to hold up both hands for a Capitulation that will be honorable to both of us."

The final articles of surrender were signed on October 13, 1710. They decreed, among other things, that inhabitants of Port Royal "within cannon shot of the fort...shall remain upon their estates, with their corn, cattle, and furniture...they taking the Oaths of Allegiance and Fidelity to Her Sacred Majesty of Great Britain."

The banner of France was raised for the last time at Port Royal at sunrise on Thursday, October 16, 1710. Midway through the morning, French officials and soldiers and their families, 258 people, paraded from the little fort, boarded British ships, and sailed for home. As they left, British and American troops and officers marched into the fort, hoisted the Union Jack, toasted Queen Anne, and gave the town her name. It has been Annapolis Royal since then.

In 1713, the Treaty of Utrecht ended the War of Spanish Succession in Europe. It ceded Acadie and Newfoundland to England. This time it stayed in British hands.

According to the language of the treaty, "...all Nova Scotia or Acadie, with its ancient Boundaries; as also the City of Port Royal, now called Annapolis Royal, and all other things in those Parts, which depend on the said Lands and Islands; together with the Dominion, Propriety, and Possession of the said Islands, Lands, and Places; and all Right whatsoever, by Treaties, or by any other way obtained, which the most Christian King, the Crown of France, or any of the Subjects thereof, have hitherto had to the said Islands, Lands, and Places, and the Inhabitants of the same, are yielded and made over to the Queen of Great Britain and to her Crown for ever."

Vive l'Acadie.

750th anniversary of the consecration of Chartres Cathedral

2010-10-24T10:55:00.001-07:00

On this date in 1260, 750 years ago, was consecrated Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Chartres, perhaps the finest example of Gothic ecclesiastical architecture and one of the greatest temples of Christendom, in the presence of King St. Louis IX and the royal family.

Therefore, when we, and the crushed crowd of kneeling worshippers around us, lift our eyes at last after the miracle of the mass, we see, far above the high altar, high over all the agitation of prayer, the passion of politics, the anguish of suffering, the terrors of sin, only the figure of the Virgin in majesty, looking down on her people, crowned, throned, glorified, with the infant Christ on her knees. She does not assert herself; probably she intends to be felt rather than feared. Compared with the Greek Virgin, as you see her, for example, at Torcello, the Chartres Virgin is retiring and hardly important enough for the place. She is not exaggerated either in scale, drawing, or colour. She shows not a sign of self-consciousness, not an effort for brilliancy, not a trace of stage effect--hardly even a thought of herself, except that she is at home, among her own people, where she is loved and known as well as she knows them. The seven great windows are one composition; and it is plain that the artist, had he been ordered to make an exhibition of power, could have overwhelmed us with a storm of purple, red, yellows, or given us a Virgin of Passion who would have torn the vault asunder; his ability is never in doubt, and if he has kept true to the spirit of the western portal and the twelfth-century, it is because the Virgin of Chartres was the Virgin of Grace, and ordered him to paint her so. One shudders to think how a single false note--a suggestion of meanness, in this climax of line and colour--would bring the whole fabric down in ruins on the eighteenth-century meanness of the choir below; and one notes, almost bashfully, the expedients of the artists to quiet their effects. So the lines of the seven windows are built up, to avoid the horizontal, and yet not exaggerate the vertical.

The architect counts here for more than the colourist; but the colour, when you study it, suggests the same restraint. Three great windows on the Virgin's right, balanced by three more on her left, show the prophets and precursors of her Son; all architecturally support and exalt the Virgin, in her celestial atmosphere of blue, shot with red, calm in the certainty of heaven. Any one who is prematurely curious to see the difference in treatment between different centuries should go down to the church of Saint Pierre in the lower town, and study there the methods of the Renaissance. Then we can come back to study again the ways of the thirteenth century. The Virgin will wait; she will not be angry; she knows her power; we all come back to her in the end.

Or the Renaissance, if one prefers, can wait equally well, while one kneels with the thirteenth century, and feels the little one still can feel of what it felt. Technically these apsidal windows have not received much notice; the books rarely speak of them; travellers seldom look at them; and their height is such that even with the best glass, the quality of the work is beyond our power to judge. We see, and the artists meant that we should see, only the great lines, the colour, and the Virgin. The mass of suppliants before the choir look up to the light, clear blues and reds of this great space, and feel there the celestial peace and beauty of Mary's nature and abode. There is heaven! and Mary looks down from it, into her church, where she sees us on our knees, and knows each one of us by name. There she actually is--not in symbol or in fancy, but in person, descending on her errands of mercy and listening to each one of us, as her miracles prove, or satisfying our prayers merely by her presence which calms our excitement as that of a mother calms her child. She is there as Queen, not merely as intercessor, and her power is such that to her the difference between us earthly beings is nothing. Her quiet, masculine strength enchants us most. Pierre Mauclerc and Philippe Hurepel and their men-at-arms are afraid of her, and the Bishop himself is never quite at his ease in her presence; but to peasants, and beggars, and people in trouble, this sense of her power and calm is better than active sympathy. People who suffer beyond the formulas of expression--who are crushed into silence, and beyond pain--want no display of emotion--no bleeding heart--no weeping at the foot of the Cross--no hysterics--no phrases! They want to see God, and to know that He is watching over His own. How many women are there, in this mass of thirteenth century suppliants, who have lost children? Probably nearly all, for the death rate is very high in the conditions of medieval life. There are thousands of such women here, for it is precisely this class who come most; and probably every one of them has looked up to Mary in her great window, and has felt actual certainty, as though she saw with her own eyes--there, in heaven, while she looked--her own lost baby playing with the Christ-Child at the Virgin's knee, as much at home as the saints, and much more at home than the kings. Before rising from her knees, every one of these women will have bent down and kissed the stone pavement in gratitude for Mary's mercy. The earth, she says, is a sorry place, and the best of it is bad enough, no doubt, even for Queen Blanche and the Duchess Alix who has had to leave her children here alone; but there above is Mary in heaven who sees and hears me as I see her, and who keeps my little boy till I come; so I can wait with patience, more or less! Saints and prophets and martyrs are all very well, and Christ is very sublime and just, but Mary knows!

--Henry Adams, "Mont Saint Michel and Chartres"

More glorious images of Chartres may be found here.

From the end of the pilgrimage to Chartres this past Pentecost:

Blessed Charles of Austria, the Last Emperor

2010-10-21T15:12:00.000-07:00

A Christian Soldier and Catholic Monarch

On June 28, 1914, word is sent from Sarajevo that the Heir Apparent, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, is assassinated, making Karl the new Heir Apparent and changing his life forever. As a consequence of the assassination, war breaks out and quickly engulfs Europe. Karl is called to lead various military actions, and comports himself with valor and honor. He leads victorious efforts on the eastern and southern fronts, and is known for incorporating his moral convictions into his battle plans. In Italy, he commands his officers to avoid needless bloodshed, and:

. . . to ensure that the wounded are taken care of as quickly as possible and that the troops are always provided for as well as possible…I forbid the order to take no prisoners…I forbid most emphatically stealing and plundering and wanton destruction. Every soldier in the 20th Corps must be filled with the conviction that we are the bearers of culture, even in the land of traitors.

For Karl, the culture he bears is Christianity, and in the face of being in a war he considers immoral, he insists that he and the army act morally.

In the midst of war, Karl is summoned to the side of a weary and elderly Emperor Franz Josef. On November 30, 1916, Karl is near the Emperor’s deathbed praying the rosary with Zita when he hears the words “Your Majesty” addressed to him for the first time. His first priority as Emperor is to bring peace and security back to Europe and his empire. He begins secret peace negotiations through his brother-in-laws, the Princes Sixtus and Xavier of Bourbon-Parma, who are in a position to smuggle letters from Karl to the Entente leaders in France and England. These negotiations occur from November 22, 1916 through February 20, 1917, when a new government in Paris puts a halt to the talks.

He begins a second series of attempts that last until the end of the war. In these negotiations, his Foreign Minister Count Czernin and the French Representative Count Armand, discuss terms in Switzerland. However, these talks come to nothing, and are damaged by the French revelation to the world press of the “Sixtus Affair.” The leak also hurt Karl’s reputation and ability to function as an intermediary in the effort to bring peace to the world.

Pope Benedict XV proposes a plan for peace as well, but only Emperor Karl accepts the Pontiff’s solutions—the other belligerents are intent on continuing the war for their own selfish advantages. With the advent of the United States in the war, President Wilson issues “Fourteen Points” necessary for the war’s conclusion. Karl accepts all of them, but by this time the Entente no longer recognizes him as a legitimate ruler.

Although Karl’s attention is focused on peace throughout his reign, the Emperor still has to wage a war that is not of his making, and care for his suffering people. Upon his accession to the throne, he grants a general amnesty.

Militarily he prohibits the fighting of duels, and the practices of flogging and binding wrists to ankles. He despises and forbids the use of mustard gas on the enemy, and the employment of submarine warfare. He orders that soldiers, prisoners, and the wounded must be humanely treated, and creates a great books program for soldiers. Whenever possible he commutes death sentences— both military and civil.

Civilly, he organizes soup kitchens, uses the palace’s horses and carriages to deliver coal to the Viennese, he fights against usury and corruption, and gives away his personal wealth— distributing alms beyond his means. He is the first world leader to establish a Ministry of Social Welfare, which is commissioned to deal with youth welfare, the war-disabled, widows, orphans, social insurance, labor rights and protection, job placement, unemployment relief and emigration protection and housing.

Spiritually, Emperor Karl shares in the same privations as his people, and orders the palace to observe food rationing and smaller portions. He invokes the name of God in all decrees and governmental acts, creates a Catholic press, and plans the building of more churches in Vienna to serve the growing needs of the faithful.

Exile, Restoration Attempts and Death

Despite working himself to exhaustion, the war continues to erode the empire until it collapses on November 11, 1918. The war is finally over, but so too is the concord of the Habsburg Empire. Karl is asked to abdicate, but he refuses, stating that his crown is a sacred trust from God, and he will never betray God, his subjects, or his dynastic inheritance. His ministers finally coerce him to withdraw from personal participation in government, and go into seclusion with his family at a family-hunting lodge in Eckartsau. However, the new, socialist government continues to deem Emperor Karl a threat because he has not abdicated; so they send him into exile in Switzerland.

In Switzerland the family lives a quiet, humble lifestyle for a time—until the Emperor hears from many of his subjects begging him to return to his Hungarian Kingdom and take the reins of power once more. Karl makes two attempts to regain his throne. During the first attempt, his regent, Admiral Horthy, persuades the Emperor that the time is not yet auspicious, and that he should return to Switzerland until all of the necessary preparations are made. When it becomes clear that Horthy has betrayed him, and plans to illegally retain power, Karl makes a second attempt, which has the support of the people who appeal to his coronation oath. Furthermore, a“White Terror” against Jews, union members and political opponents is taking place in Hungary. However, Horthy once again betrays his true monarch, arrests him and hands him over to the Entente as a prisoner. Zita accompanies him on the second attempt, and joins him on the long journey into final exile on the island of Madeira.

On Madeira, the Imperial Couple is penniless, without any means to support themselves. Their children, who are initially kept separated from them, do not join their parents for several months. Finally, the family is reunited on February 2, 1922, and the family takes comfort in each other’s presence.

Their joy is short-lived, when a few weeks later Karl becomes ill with pneumonia and influenza. Emperor Karl prays and suffers for several days, saying: “I must suffer like this so that my peoples can come together again.” When he realizes he is dying, he calls his son, Archduke Otto, to his bedside to say goodbye and to show him “how a Catholic and Emperor conducts himself when dying.”

On April 1, 1922, he whispers to his wife, “I long so much to go home with you. Why won’t they let us go home?” She holds him in her arms for most of the morning, and he receives Holy Communion and the Sacrament of the Dying. The Eucharist is exposed in his bedroom, and Karl tries to hold a crucifix in his hands. Shortly after noon, he tries to kiss the crucifix and whispers: “Thy Holy Will be done. Jesus, Jesus, come! Yes—yes. My Jesus, Thy Will be done— Jesus.” He whispers “Jesus” a final time and expires. The Peace Emperor, husband, father, and man of faith, is dead at the age of 34. more

Andrew Cusack speaks more about the last emperor here.

Je me souviens

2010-10-21T14:20:00.000-07:00

When I lived in beautiful Québec City in late 2006, one could go nowhere without hearing this song. Reflecting on the canonization of Frère André, and noting that earlier this week was the memorial of the North American Martyrs, whose bravery for the sake of the Gospel cannot fail to inspire, I am finding myself today increasingly nostalgic for la belle province. More specifically, I'm experiencing the same nostalgia as Mes Aïeux here, a nostalgia for a simpler, healthier, more traditional, more Catholic Québec before the Quiet Revolution, the land whence my ancestors came, the land whence Frère André came.

Thus, I'll post some more traditional-style music today, in commemoration of the eldest daughter of the Eldest Daughter of the Church.

Saint André Bessette

2010-10-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

I recall older relations telling me, when I was a small boy, about how when members of my family would always visit Frère André when they visited Montréal. Much has changed in that city since that time, no doubt, but the magnificent shrine built by this small, humble porter in honour of St. Joseph still stands on the mountain, along with the cross, brilliantly illumined at night, to remind us of the glorious heritage and, we can hope, destiny of the city of Montréal and the province of Québec. Like my kinsmen of old, I too make it a point to visit the Oratoire Saint-Joseph whenever I am in Montréal.

Today Frère André is raised to the honours of the altar by our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, along with several others, including Mother Mary MacKillop, the first saint from Down Under. May their intercession gain us the graces and favours we need in this world.

O Dieu qui est admirable dans tes saints,
Nous te demandons de nous accorder
Par l'intercession du Frère André, l'apôtre de saint Joseph,
la faveur que nous sollicitons... Afin qu'il soit glorifié dans l'Église
Et que nous soyons portés à imiter ses vertus.
Par le Christ, notre Seigneur.

Amen.

Brother André Marie of the Saint Benedict Center speaks more about St. André here.

Vive le Québec catholique.

Murder of the Queen, 1793

2010-10-16T14:19:00.000-07:00

It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like the morning star full of life and splendor and joy. O, what a revolution! and what a heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall! Little did I dream, when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor, and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult.

But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded, and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom! The unbought grace of life, the cheap defense of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise is gone. It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness.

--Edmund Burke, 1793

Read here the last letter of Marie Antoinette to her sister-in-law Mme Elisabeth.

Vive la Reine.

Opening of the Americas

2010-10-11T11:35:00.000-07:00

From Columbus' letter regarding his first voyage:

Truly great and wonderful is this, and not corresponding to our merits, but to the holy Christian religion, and to the piety and religion of our sovereigns, because what the human understanding could not attain, that the divine will has granted to human efforts. For God is wont to listen to his servants who love his precepts, even in impossibilities, as has happened to us on the present occasion, who have attained that which hitherto mortal men have never reached. For if anyone has written or said anything about these islands, it was all with obscurities and conjectures; no one claims that he had seen them; from which they seemed like fables. Therefore let the king and queen, the princes and their most fortunate kingdoms, and all other countries of Christendom give thanks to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who has bestowed upon us so great a victory and gift. Let religious processions be solemnized; let sacred festivals be given; let the churches be covered with festive garlands. Let Christ rejoice on earth, as he rejoices in heaven, when he foresees coming to salvation so many souls of people hitherto lost. Let us be glad also, as well on account of the exaltation of our faith, as on account of the increase of our temporal affairs, of which not only Spain, but universal Christendom will be partaker.

Monsieur de Brantigny speaks about the controversy regarding Columbus here.

Victory at Tours

2010-10-10T12:13:00.000-07:00

On this date in 732, the Frankish infantry of Charles Martel defeated the numerically superior Moorish cavalry of Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi near Tours. This is doubtless among the most significant of events faced in the West, and a great triumph that should not be readily forgotten. The sapling of Western Christendom planted in the wake of the fall of Rome would now be free to grow into the mighty civilisation which has benefited us all so very greatly. The threat of the Umayyad Caliphate, then the world's most expansive empire, overtaking the Catholic lands was largely eliminated, the border was drawn at the Pyrenees, and even that would not hold, for as the West strengthened, Iberia was gradually reconquered. Moreover, the esteem of Charles Martel grew even over and above the Merovingian kings of the Franks, and his victory paved the way for his son Pépin to take the throne with papal blessing. Pépin began the work of unifying most of the realms of Western Christendom and subduing and Christianizing the pagans of Saxony, a work brought to glorious completion by his son Charlemagne, the first Roman Emperor in the West since 476. Within a hundred years of Tours, lands from Navarre to Hungary were united into a Holy Roman Empire, the Pope had been granted temporal sovereignty over his own domain, and arts, letters, and learning flourished among the clergy. Truly, then, could Westerners no longer be thought barbarians, but stand as cultural peers of Arabs or Greeks, and even come to exceed them in centuries to follow.

St. Denis

2010-10-09T20:17:00.001-07:00

From the Golden Legend:

But the devil which had envy, and saw every day his power minished and destroyed, and that the church increased and had victory of him, moved Domitian the emperor in so great cruelty that he made a commandment that whosomever might find any christian man, that he should constrain them to do sacrifice or torment them by divers torments. And then he sent the provost Fescennius of Rome to Paris against the christian men. And found there the blessed Denis preaching, and made him cruelly to be beaten, bespit and despised, and fast to be bounden with Rusticus and Eleutherius, and to be brought tofore him: And when he saw that the saints were constant and firm in the acknowledging of our Lord, he was much heavy and sorrowful. Then came thither a noble matron, which said that her husband was foully deceived of these enchanters, and then anon the husband was sent for, and he abiding in the confession of our Lord, was anon put to death. And the saints were beaten cruelly of twelve knights, and were straightly bounden with chains of iron, and put in prison. The day following, Denis was laid upon a gridiron, and stretched all naked upon the coals of fire, and there he sang to our Lord saying: Lord thy word is vehemently fiery, and thy servant is embraced in the love thereof. And after that he was put among cruel beasts, which were excited by great hunger and famine by long fasting, and as soon as they came running upon him he made the sign of the cross against them, and anon they were made most meek and tame. And after that he was cast into a furnace of fire, and the fire anon quenched, and he had neither pain ne harm. And after that he was put on the cross, and thereon he was long tormented, and after, he was taken down and put into a dark prison with his fellows and many other christian men. And as he sang there the mass and communed the people, our Lord appeared to him with great light, and delivered to him bread, saying: Take this, my dear friend, for thy reward is most great with me. After this they were presented to the judge and were put again to new torments, and then he did do smite off the heads of the three fellows, that is to say, Denis, Rusticus, and Eleutherius, in confessing the name of the holy Trinity. And this was done by the temple of Mercury, and they were beheaded with three axes. And anon the body of Saint Denis raised himself up, and bare his head between his arms, as the angel led him two leagues from the place, which is said the hill of the martyrs, unto the place where he now resteth, by his election, and by the purveyance of God. And there was heard so great and sweet a melody of angels that many of them that heard it believed in our Lord. And Laertia, wife of the foresaid provost Lubrius, said that she was christian, and anon she was beheaded of the wicked felons, and was baptized in her blood, and so died.

In the early 7th century, Dagobert, last Merovingian king of the Franks, had built an abbey at the place of Denis's burial. In 1137 Abbot Suger ordered the basilica rebuilt, and this was the first architectural work in a style bound up in our popular imagination of the Age of Faith, which we now call Gothic. The abbey's sacred banner, the oriflamme, became the battle standard of the king of France, and the name of St. Denis was used in France's war-cry, "Montjoie Saint Denis!" (Montjoie is thought to be a derivation of mons Jovis, the Latin term for signposts or milestones, the idea being that St. Denis would guide the way of the king to victory.)

The abbey, now a cathedral-basilica, is perhaps most notable as the final resting place of most of our kings and royalty, from Clovis onwards to Louis XVIII. Though the tombs were opened and the remains desecrated and taken out into pits during the revolution, they were eventually returned to the crypt--though sadly not into their individual tombs, as it was impossible to tell whose bones were which. Most recently, the heart of Louis XVII, upon its definitive identification, was sealed into the cathedral wall in 2004.

Here is a prayer reported from a guide to the basilica in 1965, with my own addition of an intercession for the king.

O Bienheureux Saint Denys,

Voyez en ce moment votre peuple, réuni autour de votre autel.
Il vient vous renouveler son hommage et ses confiantes prières.

Depuis le jour où votre apostolat, couronné par le martyre, fit briller la foi de Jésus-Christ en cette région parisienne, votre nom y fut toujours honoré. Et vous, en retour, vous n’avez cessé de prodiguer à Paris, aux pays voisins, à la nation française tout entière, la marque d’une constante protection.

C’est ici, en votre sanctuaire, que nos Pères vinrent tant de fois pleurer leurs deuils, célébrer leurs joies, et, aux jours de péril, trouver dans l’Oriflamme qui ombrageait votre tombeau, l’espérance et le gage du salut de la Patrie.

Les siècles écoulés ne peuvent briser l’alliance contractée entre vous et la France.

Puisque la confiance de nos Pères renaît en nos coeurs, que par vous, ô Pontife, les mêmes bienfaits descandent sur nous.

Vous souvenez-vous de notre roi plus chrétien, Louis XX, de la reine, du dauphin, et de tous qui porte le sang royal de la France.

Conservez à la France la vocation des anciens jours ; obtenez à tous ses fils, à toutes les familles, et à nous-mêmes, le courage et l’union dans la fidélité au service du Christ, qui aime toujours les Francs, et qu’après les Luttes de cette vie terrestre, nous puissions triompher éternellement avec vous dans le Ciel.

Par Jésus-Christ Notre-Seigneur

Ainsi soit-il.

Victory at Lepanto

2010-10-07T15:34:00.001-07:00

Lepanto
by G.K. Chesterton

White founts falling in the Courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard;
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips;
For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken with his ships.
They have dared the white republics up the capes of Italy,
They have dashed the Adriatic round the Lion of the Sea,
And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,
And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross.
The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;
The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass;
From evening isles fantastical rings faint the Spanish gun,
And the Lord upon the Golden Horn is laughing in the sun.

Dim drums throbbing, in the hills half heard,
Where only on a nameless throne a crownless prince has stirred,
Where, risen from a doubtful seat and half attainted stall,
The last knight of Europe takes weapons from the wall,
The last and lingering troubadour to whom the bird has sung,
That once went singing southward when all the world was young.
In that enormous silence, tiny and unafraid,
Comes up along a winding road the noise of the Crusade.
Strong gongs groaning as the guns boom far,
Don John of Austria is going to the war,
Stiff flags straining in the night-blasts cold
In the gloom black-purple, in the glint old-gold,
Torchlight crimson on the copper kettle-drums,
Then the tuckets, then the trumpets, then the cannon, and he comes.
Don John laughing in the brave beard curled,
Spurning of his stirrups like the thrones of all the world,
Holding his head up for a flag of all the free.
Love-light of Spain--hurrah!
Death-light of Africa!
Don John of Austria
Is riding to the sea.

Mahound is in his paradise above the evening star,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
He moves a mighty turban on the timeless houri's knees,
His turban that is woven of the sunsets and the seas.
He shakes the peacock gardens as he rises from his ease,
And he strides among the tree-tops and is taller than the trees;
And his voice through all the garden is a thunder sent to bring
Black Azrael and Ariel and Ammon on the wing.
Giants and the Genii,
Multiplex of wing and eye,
Whose strong obedience broke the sky
When Solomon was king.

They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,
From the temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;
They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea
Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be,
On them the sea-valves cluster and the grey sea-forests curl,
Splashed with a splendid sickness, the sickness of the pearl;
They swell in sapphire smoke out of the blue cracks of the ground,--
They gather and they wonder and give worship to Mahound.
And he saith, "Break up the mountains where the hermit-folk can hide,
And sift the red and silver sands lest bone of saint abide,
And chase the Giaours flying night and day, not giving rest,
For that which was our trouble comes again out of the west.
We have set the seal of Solomon on all things under sun,
Of knowledge and of sorrow and endurance of things done.
But a noise is in the mountains, in the mountains, and I know
The voice that shook our palaces--four hundred years ago:
It is he that saith not 'Kismet'; it is he that knows not Fate;
It is Richard, it is Raymond, it is Godfrey at the gate!
It is he whose loss is laughter when he counts the wager worth,
Put down your feet upon him, that our peace be on the earth."
For he heard drums groaning and he heard guns jar,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
Sudden and still--hurrah!
Bolt from Iberia!
Don John of Austria
Is gone by Alcalar.

St. Michaels on his Mountain in the sea-roads of the north
(Don John of Austria is girt and going forth.)
Where the grey seas glitter and the sharp tides shift
And the sea-folk labour and the red sails lift.
He shakes his lance of iron and he claps his wings of stone;
The noise is gone through Normandy; the noise is gone alone;
The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes,
And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise,
And Christian killeth Christian in a narrow dusty room,
And Christian dreadeth Christ that hath a newer face of doom,
And Christian hateth Mary that God kissed in Galilee,--
But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.
Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse
Crying with the trumpet, with the trumpet of his lips,
Trumpet that sayeth ha!
Domino gloria!
Don John of Austria
Is shouting to the ships.

King Philip's in his closet with the Fleece about his neck
(Don John of Austria is armed upon the deck.)
The walls are hung with velvet that is black and soft as sin,
And little dwarfs creep out of it and little dwarfs creep in.
He holds a crystal phial that has colours like the moon,
He touches, and it tingles, and he trembles very soon,
And his face is as a fungus of a leprous white and grey
Like plants in the high houses that are shuttered from the day,
And death is in the phial and the end of noble work,
But Don John of Austria has fired upon the Turk.
Don John's hunting, and his hounds have bayed--
Booms away past Italy the rumour of his raid.
Gun upon gun, ha! ha!
Gun upon gun, hurrah!
Don John of Austria
Has loosed the cannonade.

The Pope was in his chapel before day or battle broke,
(Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke.)
The hidden room in man's house where God sits all the year,
The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear.
He sees as in a mirror on the monstrous twilight sea
The crescent of his cruel ships whose name is mystery;
They fling great shadows foe-wards, making Cross and Castle dark,
They veil the plumèd lions on the galleys of St. Mark;
And above the ships are palaces of brown, black-bearded chiefs,
And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,
Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race repines
Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines.
They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung
The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was young.
They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on
Before the high Kings' horses in the granite of Babylon.
And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell
Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,
And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign--
(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!)
Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop,
Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate's sloop,
Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds,
Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds,
Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea
White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for liberty.

Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!
Don John of Austria
Has set his people free!

Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath
(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)
And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,
Up which a lean and foolish knight for ever rides in vain,
And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade....
(But Don John of Austria rides home from the Crusade.)

When we speak of the great moments in the history of Western Christendom, we would be neglectful to ignore the miraculous victory of Lepanto. Indeed, this was a victory five centuries in the making, the culmination of all the hard work, bloodshed, prayer, and strategic thinking engaged in in the West since the Turks at Manzikert ate a large chunk out of the Byzantine Empire, our buffer state against the Muslims and the statist East, thus imperilling our nascent civilisation. Thus, we crusaded, which did not in the end stop the Turks, but slowed them down enough that we should no longer be an easy target of raiding by Vikings, Magyars, or Saracens, but that we should be strong enough to defend our civilisation, our land, our religion from any and all comers. Thus the Normans, once Viking marauders, took and fortified the vulnerable Sicilies, Iberia was reconquered, and galleons rounded the Cape, opened the Americas, and traversed the world, returning with gold and stores. We were ready; let the heathen dare to enter our part of the sea.

Indeed we were victorious, but it was not quite the victory we had hoped, for Christendom had begun to break down. The eldest daughter prevaricated, even allying herself to the Turks for some time. England, lost to heresy, was actively persecuting the Church. Dutchmen, proclaiming their preference of Turk to Pope, revolted against Spain and turned to piracy on the high seas. Our external war may have ended, but our civil war was just beginning. Today servile states exist all about us, and a sort of slavery seems to be the status quo; one might justly wonder if the Turks had won.

We saved our civilisation though, and though all to many are willing to betray that for the generic and bland yet hostile "multiculuralism" so prevalent nowadays, I for one am proud to say, "I am still a Catholic and a Westerner." Yes, in spite of Lady Gaga, brutalistic architecture, polo shirts, ballcaps, and self-help books, I remember that we were once greater than this. Not only have we such great victories as Lepanto, Malta, and Vienna, we have the Church, and her saints throughout time. God willing, I will soon have a Mass said near me that reflects the way we worshipped from time immemorial until the Baby Boom came of age. We have our literature, our Shakespeares, Dantes, and Cervantes; our music, our Palestrinas, Bachs, and Mozarts; our Gothic cathedrals and our Baroque chapels; our manners and our interpersonal customs; our feasts and our fasts. Though we have lost broad society today, we have our memory, and thus know that we are not ephemeral as so many desire to be nowadays. Great men and women have shaped our society long before any of us were born; let us never break trust with them.

I should last note that credit for this great victory was universally given to Our Lady's intercession. Rosaries for the success of the fleet were offered throughout Christendom, and Pope St. Pius V declared this day, the anniversary of the battle, the feast of Our Lady of Victory, later Our Lady of the Rosary. Perhaps it was that the Turks were to conquer us, and that we should have had a period of Babylonian captivity under their yoke. But our merciful mother heard our prayers, and gave us instead our modern Thermopylae. Let us therefore take to our beads this evening, in gratitude for all this glorious heritage we have received, and in hope that Our Lady of Victory be also our intercessor for a restoration of the grandeur and beauty and faith that once so animated our society.

Revolution in Portugal

2010-10-03T19:55:00.000-07:00

"For every monarchy overthrown the sky becomes less brilliant, because it loses a star. A republic is ugliness set free." --Anatole France

One hundred years ago this week, the Kingdom of Portugal came to its end when the Portuguese Army and Navy shelled the royal palace in Lisbon, causing King Manuel II to flee. The land of explorers and once among the mightiest of empires in the West betrayed its heritage, and became, like my motherland France, just another republic, and an anticlerical one moreover.

Restore Dom Duarte Pio to the throne.

Viva o Rei.

In commemoration of this sad event, the flags at this blog will be flown at half-mast throughout the day.

Republicans just don't throw good parties

2010-10-03T18:46:00.000-07:00

As the bicentennial celebration of Oktoberfest draws to its close, the Radical Royalist informs us here of this festival's royal origins in a horse race held to celebrate the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig (later King Ludwig I) and Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen. That such festivity should have originated in a royalist and quite Catholic milieu is no surprise to me, for I've observed over the years that more traditional peoples simply know to have a better time.

And so, stein in hand, I conclude this merry season with a few toasts. First, to the man who would be King of Bavaria, Duke Franz.

HRH The Duke of Bavaria is incidentally claimant to the thrones of England and Scotland in the Jacobite succession, though he does not actively put forth that claim. Thus, I put my stein down for a moment in order to drain a dram of whisky to the king over the water.

Next I raise my stein to another illustrious royal resident of Bavaria, who even represented Bavaria in the European Parliament for a time, HI&RH The Crown Prince of Austria and Hungary, Dr. Otto von Habsburg.

And last but by no means least, I toast to Bavaria's greatest native son, our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI.

After all that toasting, I shall return in a moment with a somewhat sobring thought.

Young Fogeyism

2010-09-27T10:28:00.000-07:00

Did you think the young fogey disappeared with the Thatcher government? Think again!

Emily Witt in Foreign Affairs reminds us here that the tweed-clad, pipe-smoking young gentlemen of yesteryear have in no way disappeared. This is good news indeed for those of us who grew out handlebar moustaches and developed tastes in vestments long before knowing that young fogeyism even existed.

Thanks to Perceival Devante for the link.

My least favourite monarchy

2010-09-26T23:37:00.000-07:00

I have been promising a post regarding Islamism and like movements for a time now. Naturally, my thinking in this regard had much to do with the Wahhabists, their second-order iconoclasm, their seeming hatred for culture, and the kingdom they helped found. As that has sat on my to-do pile, The Mad Monarchist has spoken a little about that Saudi monarchy. I recommend looking at it and at the attendant debate better to understand what a monarchy should not be.

Hommage à nos chefs

2010-07-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

On the eve of the feast of the revolution, let us pause to remember the chiefs of the Royal and Catholic Army.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.
Martyrs of the Vendée, pray for us.
Vive le Roi.

An open letter to HM The King of Spain

2010-07-12T17:17:00.000-07:00

Su Majestad Católica:

It gives me great honour to greet you from Massachusetts across the ocean. Sire, long have I had a certain affection for your fair realm of Spain; how can one who professes the Cathoic faith not? Spain, the last Crusader kingdom, hard won from the Moors, deserves my double gratitude as a Catholic in the Americas of Western European descent, for it was your kingdom, Sire, that both evangelised much of the New World in which I reside, and denied the Mediterranean and thus our homelands to the Turks at Lepanto, thus preserving our unique Catholic cultures, which have been of such great benefit throughout the world. On a more personal note, I am of French descent, and thus my ancestors were privileged to serve many of your ancestors in that great realm, such as St. Louis IX, Henri IV, and Louis XIV.

Nevertheless, Sire, certain matters in Spain, and throughout the Western world, are causing great concern to me and to Catholics and monarchists of good will the world over. No doubt your loyal subjects and the hierarchy of the Church have already addressed such petitions to you. Nonetheless, as one who is quite proud that one of the greatest nations of Christendom remains a monarchy, moreover one reigned by a descendant of the kings who reigned over my ancestors, I hope I am not forward in addressing this letter to you, Sire.

I speak, Your Majesty, of your socialist government, the most prominent in Europe since the demise of Great Britain's Labour government, and its blatant incongruence with and even hostility toward Spain's proud national and Catholic traditions of which you as sovereign are protector. Three recent items of news have I read with shock: the lack of the customary military salute to the Blessed Sacrament on Corpus Christi; the banning of the great national spectacle of bullfighting in the autonomous region of Catalonia; and Your Majesty's royal assent to the law broadening the availability of abortion in Spain.

Regarding the last point I shan't spill much ink, as I'm certain that the episcopate in Spain has already made the errors of this law well known. Nevertheless, Sire, your royal peers in Belgium and Luxembourg, both Catholic Kings, have refused assent to legislative actions that were similarly contrary to Catholic doctrine. That their respective parliaments managed to circumvent the customary requirement of royal assent to promulgate the law in question is a moot point; what is relevant is that the conduct of the King of the Belgians and the Grand Duke of Luxembourg could be in no way impugned by the faithful and clergy of their nations in what concerns these laws.

Indeed, Sire, I would be remiss and unjust if I did not plead ignorance in relation to what transpired internally concerning this act. Well I do know, however, that the great majority of socialists are very much opposed to the institution of monarchy, and whether a modest placation of them be necessary in order to preserve Spain a kingdom is a debatable point. Even still, this event in the context of other actions of the Zapatero government gives me ample pause.

The law in Catalonia, as well as the growing movement to abolish the corrida in Spain, likewise present a troubling development. To a foreigner, likely the first image to come to mind when Spain is mentioned is that of a brave man in a baroque outfit using a red cape to induce a ton or more of untrammeled beast to pass as near to him as possible without goring him. As baseball is to Americans, or sumo to Japanese, the bullfight is more than a national sport; it is part of the national character. Though it may be couched in the terminology of prevention of cruelty to animals, as was the movement against fox hunting and other country sports in Britain, it can in the end be little more than an attack against the traditions of Spain, and against those who remain most proudly your Spanish subjects, rather than a rootless, "Europhile" cosmopolitan "élite," so seen throughout the continent nowadays (and with so many likewise in the States, I may add).

This group, Sire, has seized power in Spain once before. However, the first time around, there was no UN or EU to extirpate national and local cultures and peculiarities. There was, however, the Comintern.

You have certainly seen the statistics of the numbers who fell during the tragic war of 1936-1939: 6,832 priests, about 20% of all clergy in Spain, and many others merely for practicing the Catholic faith. Many of these have since been beatified by the Church, those martyrs, ruthlessly cut down for failure to assimilate to a "revolutionary" mode of thinking, and a reminder that there are traditions in this nation which will not simply vanish overnight. Such is often the basis of the psychology of these socialists: custom, be it religious or secular, prevents the unbridled will of those few partisans of a novelty from being imposed massively upon society. Thus, those who maintain most robustly these customs and traditions must be extirpated. As Voltaire said, "écrasez l'infame."

I know this personally, for my French lineage is heavily Vendéen, from that loyal province that famously refused to submit to the New Order imposed upon France by the Jacobins, and fought a guerilla war, taking heavy casualties and suffering what is debatably the first genocide of modernity, all for their robust defense of their national traditions against the iconoclasm of the republicans. Primary among these were the defense of the liberty of the Church and its honoured role in society, and the defense of the right to reign of the deposed king Louis XVI, and after his execution, his son Louis XVII, both your kinsmen. Those who hold to a traditionally ordered society are always among the first to defend the rights of monarchs, for monarchs defend these customs against those who seek to impose a new Promethean order upon society. And, indeed, these Prometheans seek nothing more than the regime of Cromwell in England, that of Robespierre in France, or that of Lenin in Russia. Such is what the nationalists in your nation's civil war fought for, and it is due to their victory that you rule Spain today.

Thus, as a lover of Spain, a faithful Catholic, and a monarchist, I plea to you, Sire, let not your nation's noble peculiarities be swept away by those who desire to recreate society in their own rather flat image. Those who resist them are few, and often seen as eccentric, perhaps, to cite your nation's greatest literary creation, quixotic. Nonetheless, Your Majesty, you will scarcely be alone, either in Spain or abroad. Should you show yourself a true son of St. Louis, a great successor to the Catholic Monarchs and Philip II, and resist those who would destroy your glorious nation with its rich history and its rich tradition of Catholicism, I pledge upon my honour to aid you in whichever way that I can. I am sure that there are many more who would do so, from the Vatican on down to the humblest village.

I shall offer this evening a rosary for you and your nation.

I am honoured to remain your humble servant,
Matthew Palardy

Jean-Baptiste

2010-06-24T10:31:00.001-07:00

Ut queant laxis
Resonare fibris
Mira gestorum
Famuli tuorum,
Solve polluti
Labii reatum, Sanc
Te Ioannes

St. John the Baptist is also the patron saint of Québec and of all of French America. Donc, à tous mes cousins, bonne fête!

400 years ago on this day was baptised Chief Henri Membertou, the first baptism of an aboriginal in Canada, and likely in the New World north of Mexico.

130 years ago was first sang this song, commissioned by the Lieutenant Governor of Québec for the celebration of the feast of Jean-Baptiste (the English version came later):

Vive le Québec.
Vive l'Amérique française.

Royal Wedding in Sweden

2010-06-20T19:50:00.000-07:00

Et Lux in Tenebris Lucet is proud to offer the most heartfelt congratulations to TRH Victoria, Crown Princess of Sweden and Daniel, Duke of Västergötland on the occasion of their wedding yesterday.

Video of the ceremony may be viewed here. (Thanks to Elena Maria Vidal at Tea at Trianon for the link.)

On a more personal note, HM Carl XVI Gustaf is the royal to whom I have been the nearest in my life, and by pure coincidence. In Québec City in autumn 2006, while exploring the Old City, a motorcade passed down the street along which I was walking. Noting the Swedish flags, I initially thought it was the prime minister or foreign minister on a diplomatic visit. However, coming across a newspaper in a pub soon thereafter, I soon realized that I had just been passed by the King of Sweden.

In addition to my closest royal encounter, Sweden has also given me my car (a lovely black Saab named Ingrid), my favourite film director (Ingmar Bergman), and perhaps, by way of Normandy, my blue eyes.

Lange leve Sverige.

I add as a footnote that an unfortunate power outage has destroyed most of my new essays that I had been hoping to start publishing yesterday. Please bear with me as I attempt to reconstruct them this week.

Sacré-Cœur de Jésus

2010-06-11T15:05:00.000-07:00

To the Sacred Heart of Jesus I give myself and consecrate to the Sacred Heart of our Lord Jesus Christ, my person and my life, my actions, pains and sufferings, so that I may be unwilling to make use of any part of my being other than to honor, love and glorify the Sacred Heart. This is my unchanging purpose, namely, to be all His, and to do all things for the love of Him, at the same time renouncing with all my heart whatever is displeasing to Him. I therefore take You, O Sacred Heart, to be the only object of my love, the guardian of my life, my assurance of salvation, the remedy of my weakness and inconstancy, the atonement for all the faults of my life and my sure refuge at the hour of death.

Be then, O Heart of goodness, my justification before God the Father, and turn away from me the strokes of his righteous anger. O Heart of love, I put all my confidence in You, for I fear everything from my own wickedness and frailty, but I hope for all things from Your goodness and bounty.

Remove from me all that can displease You or resist Your holy will; let your pure love imprint Your image so deeply upon my heart, that I shall never be able to forget You or to be separated from You.

May I obtain from all Your loving kindness the grace of having my name written in Your Heart, for in You I desire to place all my happiness and glory, living and dying in bondage to You.

Amen.

Robert Schumann (1810-1856)

2010-06-10T16:46:00.000-07:00

I'm back from my holiday, but new information I've found is forcing me to rewrite the essays I prepared while away. If tomorrow is a pleasant day, I'll be sure to hammer them out in front of my local café. In the meantime, to commemorate Robert Schumann's bicentennial, albeit belated, please enjoy one of the few pieces in this world that I wish I could hear again for the first time, the Träumerei, courtesy of the great Vladimir Horowitz.

My, does this ever bring back the memories.

Off to the coast

2010-06-04T03:32:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought that I'd be returning to blogging more often, readers, I have received an invitation to Narragansett from an old friend that I truly can't pass up. Worry not though; I shall be returning next week to continue my series on fanaticism, and to post whatever I may come to write by the sea this weekend.

Trinity Sunday: Quicumque Vult

2010-05-30T14:16:00.000-07:00

The creed that bears the name of St. Athanasius:

Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the Catholic Faith. Which Faith except every one do keep whole and undefiled; without doubt he shall perish everlastingly. And the Catholic Faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity; Neither confounding the Persons; nor dividing the Essence. For there is one Person of the Father; another of the Son; and another of the Holy Ghost. But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one; the Glory equal, the Majesty coeternal. Such as the Father is; such is the Son; and such is the Holy Ghost. The Father uncreated; the Son uncreated; and the Holy Ghost uncreated. The Father unlimited; the Son unlimited; and the Holy Ghost unlimited. The Father eternal; the Son eternal; and the Holy Ghost eternal. And yet they are not three eternals; but one eternal. As also there are not three uncreated; nor three infinites, but one uncreated; and one infinite. So likewise the Father is Almighty; the Son Almighty; and the Holy Ghost Almighty. And yet they are not three Almighties; but one Almighty. So the Father is God; the Son is God; and the Holy Ghost is God. And yet they are not three Gods; but one God. So likewise the Father is Lord; the Son Lord; and the Holy Ghost Lord. And yet not three Lords; but one Lord. For like as we are compelled by the Christian verity; to acknowledge every Person by himself to be God and Lord; So are we forbidden by the Catholic Religion; to say, There are three Gods, or three Lords. The Father is made of none; neither created, nor begotten. The Son is of the Father alone; not made, nor created; but begotten. The Holy Ghost is of the Father and of the Son; neither made, nor created, nor begotten; but proceeding. So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts. And in this Trinity none is before, or after another; none is greater, or less than another. But the whole three Persons are coeternal, and coequal. So that in all things, as aforesaid; the Unity in Trinity, and the Trinity in Unity, is to be worshipped. He therefore that will be saved, let him thus think of the Trinity.

Furthermore it is necessary to everlasting salvation; that he also believe faithfully the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. For the right Faith is, that we believe and confess; that our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is God and Man; God, of the Essence of the Father; begotten before the worlds; and Man, of the Essence of his Mother, born in the world. Perfect God; and perfect Man, of a reasonable soul and human flesh subsisting. Equal to the Father, as touching his Godhead; and inferior to the Father as touching his Manhood. Who although he is God and Man; yet he is not two, but one Christ. One; not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh; but by assumption of the Manhood into God. One altogether; not by confusion of Essence; but by unity of Person. For as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man; so God and Man is one Christ; Who suffered for our salvation; descended into hell; rose again the third day from the dead. He ascended into heaven, he sitteth on the right hand of the God the Father Almighty, from whence he will come to judge the quick and the dead. At whose coming all men will rise again with their bodies; And shall give account for their own works. And they that have done good shall go into life everlasting; and they that have done evil, into everlasting fire. This is the Catholic Faith; which except a man believe truly and firmly, he cannot be saved.

The real French national holiday: Jehanne la Pucelle

2010-05-30T12:28:00.000-07:00

It is today the feast of Ste Jeanne d'Arc. According to genealogical research commissioned some years ago, I am a direct descendant of Jacques Darc (later du Lys), her father.

Her tale is among the most incredible in history and so well known that it scarcely bears repeating. It bespeaks the faith, loyalty, and chivalry for which France was renowned. Yet today's French seem to celebrate more the treason, apostasy, and bloodthirst that Bastille Day represents.

A pox on all that, I say. A proud diaspora Frenchmen, when I think of my motherland, I'd rather not think of my massacred Vendéen kinsmen, of the pillaged churches and martyred priests, or of the slain king, queen, and dauphin. Instead, I'd prefer to think of ma tante Jeanne.

King of England, and you, Duke of Bedford, who call yourself Regent of the kingdom France; you William de la Pole, Count of Suffolk; John, Lord Talbot; and you Thomas, Lord Scales, who call yourselves lieutenants of the said Duke of Bedford, do justly by the King of Heaven; render to the Maid who is sent here of God, the King of Heaven, the keys of all the good cities that you have taken and violated in France. She has come here from God to restore the royal blood. She is all ready to make peace, if you will deal rightly by her, acknowledge the wrong done France, and pay for what you have taken. And all of you, archers, companions of war, nobles and others who are before you; and if this is not done, expect news of the Maid, who will go to see your shortly, to your very great damage. King of England, if you do not do this, I am Chef de Guerre, and in whatever place I shall find your people in France, I will make them go whether they will or not; and if they will not obey I will have them all killed. I am sent here by God, the King of Heaven, each and all, to put you out of all France. And if they will obey I will be merciful. And stand not by your opinion, for you will never hold the kingdom of France through God, King of Heaven, son of Saint Mary; it will be thus ruled by King Charles VII, true heritor; for God , the King of Heaven, wishes it, and this to him is revealed by the Maid, and he will enter Paris in good company. If you will not believe the news from God and the Maid, in whatever place we shall find you, we shall strike in your midst, and will make so great a hurrah that for a thousand years there has not been one in France so great, if you do not deal justly. And you may well believe that the King of Heaven will send more strength to the Maid than you will be able to lead in all your assaults against her and her good soldiers. And when the blows fall we shall see who will have the better right from God of Heaven. You, Duke of Bedford, the Maid begs you and requires of you that you work not your own destruction. If you listen to her you will yet be able to come in her company to where the French will do the finest deed that ever was done for Christianity. And reply to this, if you wish to make peace at the city of Orleans; and if thus you do not do, you will shortly remember it to your great sorrow. Written this Tuesday, Holy Week. [March 22, 1429]

Ste Jeanne, priez que la fille plus aînée de l'église se souvienne de ses promesses de baptême.

Jhésus + Marie
Vive la France

Restoration

2010-05-29T20:43:00.000-07:00

350 years ago today, the republican and Puritanical tyranny that was the Lord-Protectorate came to an end, as Charles II returned to London on his 30th birthday. The Merrie Monarch ruled for a quarter-century, rebuilding those national institutions which the Roundheads had so thoroughly desired to obliterate, allying himself to Louis XIV, and, having long held Catholic sympathies and even having attempted to rescind the penal laws, crossing the Tiber on his deathbed.

God save the King.

Sing a New Song, Please

2010-05-29T19:22:00.000-07:00

In spite of the new and better translation of the Roman Missal, it seems that the earworm factories that are OCP and GIA are up to their old tricks yet again, making something holy and profound resemble a Disney movie or an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

The ever-insightful Jeffrey Tucker at the NLM has the story here.

Honestly, if we'd all just agree to use Latin once again, this wouldn't be an issue. Oremus in linguam latinam.

Announcement of the birth of two French princes

2010-05-28T23:55:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the Mad Monarchist for this news:

Finally, some very happy news indeed from New York City, it was announced that, yesterday morning, HRH Prince Luis Alfonso de Bourbon, Duc d’Anjou (rightly King Louis XX of France to legitimists) and his wife Princess Marie Margaret welcomed twin boys into the world; Prince Luis and Prince Alfonso. They were born by c-section and mother and sons are said to be in “perfect condition”. Heartfelt congratulations to the Duke and Duchess of Anjou and the latest additions to the venerable French Royal House.

From what I can gather in the newspapers, based on my poor understanding of Spanish, Prince Louis is the Dauphin.

Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive le Dauphin! Vive le Prince Alphonse!

With immense thanksgiving for their happy birth, I entrust the health of the princes to the prayers of their great ancestor St Louis, of Ste Jeanne d'Arc, and of the martyred Louis XVII.

against a "personal relationship with the Lord Jesus"

2010-05-27T20:57:00.000-07:00

While it is fresh in my mind, I'd like to put forth this excellent essay of The Ochlophobist. It deals with the widespread importation of the phenomena of American Evangelicalism into Catholicism and Orthodoxy, and is thus very relevant to my thinking about the varying religious cultures of this era, which I will be visiting in the near future in my ongoing series of essays.

I'll spare my elaboration on this for my own subsequent essay, but this puts to voice many misgivings that I've had regarding evangelicalism and its contemporary influence on the Catholic Church.

Red Toryism

2010-05-26T15:27:00.000-07:00

I've long followed Phillip Blond's career, having had quite the acquaintance with the Radical Orthodox theological movement with which he was involved. When Blond moved from theology to specializing in political philosophy, I certainly paid attention.

The "Red Tory" thought that Blond espouses is, without doubt, one of the most significant ideas currently being debated, and holds much promise for anyone seeking to reintegrate our increasingly atomized and anemic society. I encourage anyone who shares the same passion that I do in this regard to read carefully this recent article from The American Conservative.

"The Unknown Citizen," by W.H. Auden

2010-05-26T15:21:00.000-07:00

In continuation of my theme regarding the dissociation of society, I present this poem that I've lately not been able to get out of my head:

(To JS/07/M/378) This Marble Monument Is Erected by the State)

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be

One against whom there was no official complaint,

And all the reports on his conduct agree

That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint

For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.

Except for the War till the day he retired

He worked in a factory and never got fired,

But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.

Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,

For his Union reports that he paid his dues,

(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)

And our Social Psychology workers found

That he was Popular with his mates and liked to drink.

The Press are convinced that he bought a Paper every day

And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.

Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured

And his Health-card shows he was once in a hospital but left it cured,

Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare

He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan

And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,

A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.

Our researchers into Public Opinion are content

That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;

When there was peace he was for peace when there was war he went.

He was married and and added five children to the population,

Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation,

And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.

Was he free? Was he Happy? The question is absurd:

Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

Argentine Bicentennial

2010-05-26T15:07:00.000-07:00

In commemoration of one of the coolest countries on earth.

¡Viva Argentina!

Fanaticism, part 2: The Tower of Babel

2010-05-25T18:52:00.000-07:00

Today's installment in my ongoing series concerning fanaticism will depart from the internecine Catholic churchmanship dispute (to be resumed later), and will focus instead on the relationships among the world's cultures in an age of globalization, "multiculturalism," and mass migration, with an eye towards the just fulfilling of the Church's missionary mandate.

It is first either a marvel of history or a work of Divine Providence that the peoples of Europe should have adopted the faith of Christianity, a faith (secularly speaking) of Semitic origin, so thoroughly that Hilaire Belloc's assertion that Europe is the Faith is no radical statement, but merely a ratification of what was already thought globally. Consider that as well in the light of the fact that Europe, apart from the Mediterranean region, was, in the Julio-Claudian times in which Christ and His Apostles lived and preached, a sparsely populated hinterland of the Empire.

Moreover, by act of the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem, this came not through the adoption of Judaic laws and customs. Indeed, attempts to "Judaize" the gentile converts of the primitive Church were likely among the first heresies to affect Christianity. As far as sunsequent European culture goes, I should scarcely have any need to relate much. We know in our blood that the customs of our pagan ancestors were not truly replaced, but perfected. Anyone who thinks otherwise ought to rename the days of the week and months of the year, and should cease from decorating his house with evergreens in Christmastide and from telling his children stories about fairies.

Need I even to mention the numbers of missionaries following, often even preceding, explorers and conquistadores venturing to all corners of the world in the Age of Discovery? They did this for the purpose of preaching to the Gospel, not of making Europeans out of non-Europeans. The gentleman of Japan would no more have to lay aside his kimono, or the gentleman of India his turban, than the Scot would have to lay aside his kilt, or the Basque his beret. The purpose of this was not a monocultural hegemon, but a Church more truly universal, more truly Catholic, and a world united in the context of the Catholic faith under the principle of solidarity and in pursuit of the common good.

Of course, Catholic doctrine balances that solidarity with the principle of subsidiarity, which dictates that political power operates best at the lowest possible level. Thus, the headman or chief of a village or tribe is much more knowledgeable about what is good for that village or tribe than a bureaucrat in a remote capital is, and a prince of a nation which may become annexed by an empire is far more qualified to rule that nation directly than the emperor or his government.

Interestingly, in the age of the Great Powers, this is what tended to happen. There were abuses in some times and places, no doubt, but my historical research shows that this is the exception more than the rule. Princes continued to rule as clients of the emperor, and the cultures of the tribes and peoples within the colonies were interfered with as little as possible. The work of the imperial powers seemed in all rather benign: building roads, railways, canals, and harbours to facilitate trade, opening native agriculture and artisanship to the broader global market; collecting customs on foreign trade, enriching both the crown and the native princes and chiefs (and consequently their people) who were entitled to a share in the colony's revenue; promoting public health by reclaiming marshes, inoculating against smallpox, and establishing hospitals; promoting education, establishing universities and technical schools, and subsidizing those primary schools established by missionaries; and establishing regiments for the defense of the colony recruited from among the natives. For those outside cities (which are invariably rather cosmopolitan), the presence of the imperial power was scarcely felt, and when it was, it was benevolent: their legal issues were tried in their own courts (with the caveat that no penalty contrary to humanity could be exacted, and with right of appeal to the imperial power); their traditional economic way of life continued, albeit with access to more productive ways of agriculture and a broader market in which to sell their surplus and from which to buy during leaner years; malaria and other diseases were no longer death sentences; and education and missions offered the natives greater integration with global civilization, and the opportunity to develop those talents by which they may better serve their tribe and their culture. The only things extirpated were those more barbarous practices such as cannibalism or slavery.

Indeed I am aware that I have violated a great principle of the orthodoxy of political-correctness in asserting that European imperialism was largely beneficial, but let us examine that orthodoxy more closely, particularly in light of what came to pass after the Second World War, when the powers of Europe came to quit their overseas colonies. Under the banner of the "Non-Aligned Movement," so-called to differentiate them from the Soviet sphere of influence, socialists, generally those of a Trotskyist or Fabian variety, came in to fill the power vacuum in these new counties left by the departing Europeans, and the results have generally been dismal. After all, I'm sure we are all aware of the socialist attitude toward culture. Occasionally, though, an anti-communist would come into power, with no pretenses toward restoring the traditional order, but rather toward establishing a centralized military autocracy. Thus, the world has seen a succession of Idi Amins, Ho Chi Minhs, Mobutus, Nassers, Saddam Husseins, Pol Pots--and these are just those who immediately come to mind. Moreover, independent kingdoms that were not part of any Western sphere of influence had their traditional rulers deposed, replaced with a situation much worse. I mention here Haile Selassie of Ethiopia, Mohammad-Reza Shah Pahlavi of Iran, and Gyanendra of Nepal. The present situation in Thailand as well looks eerily familiar. The results of this have been many: war, genocide, famine, disease, massive migrations, human trafficking, drug abuse, slavery, poverty, and the breakdown of traditional communities, ways of life, and economies, with the attendant psychological and sociological ailments.

Aside, for all the American rhetoric about the Cold War and the evils of communism, their global record in the late 20th century is decidedly mixed. They said they care so much about the spread of communism in Vietnam; then why weren't they at Dien Bien Phu when there was an opportunity to arrest it in its early stages? If Nasser were a strong ally of the communists, then why is Eisenhower telling the British and the French to withdraw from the Suez Canal that Nasser was illegally trying to nationalize?

But look now at the contemporary situation in America itself, and truly over an American-dominated globe. Do you see the humane universalism spoken of earlier, or do you see an artificial hegemon enforced not by social or religious bonds but by the forces of political and economic control, the fruits of a global group who looked upon the powers held by the Politburo with envy, desiring such for themselves? I surely see the latter, and I call it the Tower of Babel. It is a forcible uniformity of thought, that thought usually being that international socialism is the pinnacle of civilization. It is a forcible uniformity of culture, that culture having very little profundity and often quite insipid, disregarding both earthy and ethereal elements; rather, it is something to be sold, the stuff of Coca-Cola, Big Macs, and Michael Jackson. And it serves not the common good anywhere, for the administrators of this régime seem to have lost any idea of what it is to be human, and they serve not men, but only their dreams of raw totalitarian power. Thus, generally through economic and political means, they engineer the means of production away from those who will not serve in their system. They engineer through "education" their captive publics to be docile and servile cogs in their utilitarian and mechanistic system. They engineer anything human and enobling out of mankind, subtly undermining churches, families, nations, and tribes, that they and they alone may have absolute control over their brave new society, as though they were in the place of gods.

I spoke gloriously of Western culture earlier. However, are we living today as our ancestors lived? What remains of our own culture? Indeed, it's a mess here, but we've had it much easier than elsewhere. I give this as perhaps the prime example of the fanaticism that has come to drive contemporary humanity to its knees. Indeed, if you doubt the fanaticism inherent therein, check out some of the Mad Monarchist's fan mail.

And this is among the many reasons why I am a monarchist. Our traditional ways have served us very well in the past, and throne and altar were always a cogent defense against the outward impositions of malcontents who seek the ill of society due to their own petty reasons or their fanaticism. The power of the monarch calls for his responsibility to the people, for indeed he is of the people (not "The People," that inviolable construct in whose name societies are destroyed), and his very charge is always to promote the common good rather than the mean small mind of partisanship, which invariably relegates itself into unthinking fundamentalism.

Thus concludes this episode. In about a week's time, I shall be publishing my next installment in this series dealing with the equally fanatical movement that has grown out of the opposition to international socialism: Islamism.

Leonida Georgievna, Grand Duchess of Russia (1914-2010)

2010-05-24T19:52:00.000-07:00

Requiescat in pace.

Speaking of Russia, the once chilly relations between Pontiff and Patriarch seem to have thawed. With hope, the prayers we have been offering for Russia since Our Lady first requested them in the fateful year of 1917 are at the point of being answered.

I commend the repose of the Grand Duchess's soul, and my prayers for the reunion of Christendom, to the prayers of the Imperial Martyrs, of Servant of God Lucia of Fatima, of Venerable Jerzy Popieluszko, and of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

The decline of the academy

2010-05-23T20:28:00.000-07:00

Patrick Deneen shares his thoughts regarding the sorry state of the Western university at The New Atlantis.

With thanks to Arturo Vasquez for the link.

Pentecost

2010-05-23T20:27:00.001-07:00

Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
et emitte caelitus
lucis tuae radium.

Veni, pater pauperum,
veni, dator munerum
veni, lumen cordium.

Consolator optime,
dulcis hospes animae,
dulce refrigerium.

In labore requies,
in aestu temperies
in fletu solatium.

O lux beatissima,
reple cordis intima
tuorum fidelium.

Sine tuo numine,
nihil est in homine,
nihil est innoxium.

Lava quod est sordidum,
riga quod est aridum,
sana quod est saucium.

Flecte quod est rigidum,
fove quod est frigidum,
rege quod est devium.

Da tuis fidelibus,
in te confidentibus,
sacrum septenarium.

Da virtutis meritum,
da salutis exitum,
da perenne gaudium,
Amen, Alleluia.

Fanaticism

2010-05-18T12:54:00.000-07:00

I have lately noted that in both political and religious spheres civil dialogue seems to be dying out, and with it that great imperative of civilization, respect. In place of the understanding that those of different classes, regions, backgrounds, temperaments, etc., will understandably have different motivations and different emphases, latter-day ideologues simply tend to assume that everybody is merely like them, or on the path to becoming them. Those who would dare put forward a principled dissent, even if accord with the others much of the time, suddenly become at best outsiders to be pitied, and at worst malefactors to be hated. Needless to say, herein are the roots of totalitarianism and hatred, as any student of the last bloody century would realize, but when such is ever mentioned, the ideologues will fall back on an exceptionalist argument, i.e., "It's fine of we do this, but not if others do, because our cause is just." Put aside the fact for a moment that all but the most thorough cynics consider their cause just.

I'll offer first perhaps the most outrageous example of this behaviour: Fred Phelps. Fred Phelps hates homosexuals. I'm not speaking about a principled position that homosexual activity is affectively disordered and that the inclination thereto is a temptation that should be chastely borne through life, as we all have our crosses to bear; no, I'm speaking of irrational, frothing-at-the-mouth hatred. Indeed, Phelps' hatred of homosexuals is so strong that it appears he has come to despise everybody else who does not hate homosexuals as much as he does (which is probably everybody outside of his family). Phelps and his clan even go on to picket the funerals of dead war veterans, causing incredible offense to their families, friends, and fellow servicemen, under the assumption that they died to protect homosexuality. However, I doubt this is the first thing, or even the tenth or twentieth thing, on a young person's mind when they decide to enlist in the military. Regardless, in Phelps' warped mind, the United States government is tainted because it does not have to same opinion as he, and thus anyone in its service is fair game for his rude and disgusting attacks.

This may perhaps have been an extreme example, I acknowledge, but I hope it serves to illustrate the fundamentalistic and antisocial mindset into which our society is degenerating. I noted that the recent debate regarding the Arizona immigration law was dominated by nativist propaganda on the one hand and multiculturalist propaganda on the other, both seeming only to repeat slogans rather than saying anything of substance. If I were to say that massive immigration in the face of a scarcity of work available is leading to a socio-economic crisis, but that I also think the new law opens the door for potential civil-liberties violations, then I'm bigoted for the first part, and un-American for the second. Nobody wants to consider this statement, for they have already seemingly convinced themselves with but a minimum of thought that they are right, and will continue arrogantly to consider themselves so even in the face of any argument.

I'm finding this very pronounced in the realm of religion as well. Any observer of contemporary Catholicism has seen that three camps, "churchmanships," to borrow a word from Anglican parlance, have developed of late within the Church: liberals, neoconservatives, and traditionalists. All three seem to think themselves better Catholics than the others, a vanguard of the next spiritual wave to sweep this earth. Of course, this presumption is scarcely confined to Catholics; look at born-again evangelicals, Muslim Wahhabists, New-Agers, and radical atheists/secularists. I’ll leave these aside for a moment, for as egregious as all cases of religious arrogance are, they are particularly so within a church that calls itself Catholic. I read these words on a comment page of A Conservative Blog for Peace not long ago, and these perhaps provide a good summation of the issues at hand (mildly edited for content):

I think for many traditional (not just traditionalist) Catholics, that is, people in traditional cultures like Arturo's Mexican one and the Slavs (from more than one group), Italians and a few Puerto Ricans I know, the anonymity at St Gargantua's is not a problem because they have family, big time. They don't need or want the parish church invading their space (like the people I know who show up for baptisms, First Communions, confirmations, weddings and funerals, end of story).

I wouldn't like the alienation - 'nobody gives a s***' - but wouldn't mind it so much around 1962. That is, if the religion at St G's - even if the building were new Jetsony space-age modern and not bad Gothic or pastiche baroque - were being held to a minimum of orthodoxy by the text and rubrics, the Tridentine Mass holding it all together. As somebody said of US Navy equipment, designed by geniuses to be run safely by morons. (All bets were off with the Novus Ordo. They should have just translated the services, full stop.) The people go for half an hour - to follow along in their missals and receive Communion at the early Low Mass, to pray their rosaries and/or read their novenas, to leave a candle and a dollar at their lucky saint's feet, to pay their religious taxes/fire insurance by showing up (could be out breaking the commandments the night before but won't miss Mass and probably would die for the faith), to keep their parents off their backs - and then go watch the game and after that go to Nonna's for Sunday dinner. Not fake 'parish community' stuff: like the South Philly nonna Thomas Day met during 'the sign of peace' at St Rita's on Broad Street, they don't believe in that s***.

Not utopian parishes of nice upper-middle-class suburbanites like on EWTN, orthodoxy meets neoconservatism meets Protestant bonhomie. Or traddie shrines full of enthusiasts, the church as Jansenist perfectionist cult or simply dominated by the barking mad. ('Purity cult' is a fave putdown of Episco-liberals for Episco-conservatives as you know; while wrong much of the time they have a point here.) 'The Catholic Church: here comes everybody.’

Perhaps I could rightly pass for a traditionalist, but I don’t think I am your conventional traditionalist, for, indeed, this is the tradition I hope to be preserved: here comes everybody, within the context of the orthodox doctrine and practice of the universal church. How contrary this is to the pseudo-gnostic sects of spiritual or intellectual élitehood, the “purity cults” we see developing all over the world nowadays, and also, how contrary to the wisdom of the Apostles’ insistence that Greeks (and later Romans, Franks, etc.) need not adopt the culture of the Jews to become Christians! Social coercion to fit people into a specific mould of man is not just discourteous; it’s absolutely alien to our tradition, leading to a sense of smugness, superiority, and bigotry. Are not the greatest saints consistently aware of the fact that they are sinners? We will not see perfection this side of the New Jerusalem, and such thinking of oneself as perfect, so perfect indeed that it’s not enough that someone professes the faith, but rather that they become more like you, is akin to what the philosopher Eric Voegelin (very relevant in this regard) termed “immanentizing the eschaton.” And if they do not see the light upon being exposed to Joan Chittister, EWTN, or the Tridentine Mass, then they’re “cultural Catholics” or poor lost souls to be pitied.

All of this can easily be resolved by following one of Christ’s cardinal commandments, which is lamentably the most difficult to follow: Love thy neighbour. All in all, we’re out for the same things in this world. Of course we will do this imperfectly, for such is human nature, but the incredible cohesion and sense of social responsibility that will return to us will in the end make life better for everyone. This extends into the political realm as well. People who do not support the wars are not generally traitors. People who do not support government social spending are not generally nasty. People who do support these things are not generally imperialists or socialists, respectively. The fault in our civic discourse nowadays is that opposing viewpoints are very scarcely well-understood or respected, often leading to the supposition that those holding them are somehow stupid, evil, or mentally ill. In the political realm, however, it seems usually not pity that people feel, but contempt. With the state apparatus more powerful than at any time before, and with state control a means by which the powerful might socially engineer populations into their vision of utopia, the continuation of the lack of respect in today’s society calls forth a vision of a rather grim future, of shouting apparatchiks consistently at war with other shouting apparatchiks, with the bonds of social cohesion, the sense of duty and loyalty to society, and the individual’s connection to a larger society progressively eroding, leaving atomized and alienated individuals prey to mass movements promoting a false sense of collective identity.

I will continue my thoughts in this regard anon.

Le Vert Galant

2010-05-14T22:34:00.000-07:00

400 years ago, Henri IV of France and Navarre, the first Bourbon king of France, was stabbed to death by François Ravaillac.

Vive Henri quatre,
Vive ce Roi vaillant!
Ce diable à quatre
A le triple talent:

De boire, de battre,
Et d'être un vers galant;
De boire, de battre,
Et d'être un vers galant.

Au diable guerres
Rancunes et partis,
Commes nos pères,
Chantons en vrais amis:

Au choc des verres
Les roses et les lys;
Au choc des verres
Les roses et les lys.

Chantons l'antienne
Qu'on chant'ra dans mille ans;
Que Dieu maintienne
En paix ses descendants

Jusqu'à c'e qu'on prenne
La lune avec les dents.
Jusqu'à c'e qu'on prenne
La lune avec les dents.

Vive la France!
Vive le roi Henri!
Qu'à Reims on danse
Disant comme à Paris,

Vive la France!
Vive le roi Henri!
Vive la France!
Vive le roi Henri!

With thanks to Madame Delors.

Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

2010-04-23T10:45:00.000-07:00

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

William Shakespeare, born this day 1564, died this day 1616
Henry V, act III, scene i

God Save the Pope

2010-04-18T16:34:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow we shall mark five years since the accession of Joseph Ratzinger to the See of St. Peter as His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI. Even had he never been elected, his stellar career in service of God, the Church, and the faithful would have proven him one of the most remarkable churchmen of the past century, from young theologian and luminary of the council to leader of the reaction against the postconciliar radicals to Cardinal-Archbishop of Munich to Prefect of the CDF, close friend and confidant of John Paul II, and seemingly at times "auxiliary pope," if such a thing existed.

Then come the events of March and April 2005: while the long-serving and much-beloved John Paul II faces his eternity, then-Cardinal Ratzinger speaks of the "filth" in the Church, so conveniently forgotten today. Then John Paul dies, and Ratzinger gives the homily at his funeral Mass to likely the largest assembly of global notables ever. After that, before the conclave that would elect him, he delivered his memorable address regarding the "dictatorship of relativism."

I recall that during those few weeks I was reading Introduction to Christianity, as part of the theological scholarship I was then undertaking. Quite impressed, I resolved to write to the author after a new pope had been elected and installed, thinking that he would likely retire to Bavaria. Then came the white smoke and the habemus papam. It was a champagne and cigar night for me.

In this day, however, the disgusting vituperation of much of the press against the Holy Father smacks of the worst of Know-Nothingism. Agitated rabble-rousers speak of a "leering old villain in a frock," painting the Vicar of Christ as an enabler of perverted priests and criminal manager-type bishops who cover their tracks. Tell that to Marcial Maciel.

Of course, all the critics of the Pope and the Church have to offer is the tyranny of hopelessness, lies, materialism, and utilitarianism. Facts don't seem to matter in their new moral panic, their secular inquisition, more vindictive and prejudiced than any tribunal ever convened under ecclesiastical auspices. Thus, against the bitter screeds of these malcontents, I raise my voice, solitary though it may be, in defence of Pope Benedict XVI, a truly humane and thoughtful man, against today's answer to Bastille-stormers.

Therefore, happy anniversary, Holy Father. Run not for fear of the wolves, for upon the Rock whose see you hold, the Lord established His Church, and promised that the gates of hell will not prevail against it. I, for one, shall stand with you, even if it may mean my death. Accept today the gift that I offer within this spiritual bouquet.

I exhort you all, dear readers, offer your gift of prayer to the Pontiff here.

Dieu le Roy!
Viva il Papa!

Christus Resurrexit, Alleluia, Alleluia!

2010-04-04T10:03:00.000-07:00

Te Deum laudamus:
te Dominum confitemur.
Te aeternum Patrem
omnis terra veneratur.
Tibi omnes Angeli;
tibi caeli et universae Potestates;
Tibi Cherubim et Seraphim
incessabili voce proclamant:
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus,
Dominus Deus Sabaoth.
Pleni sunt caeli et terra
maiestatis gloriae tuae.
Te gloriosus Apostolorum chorus,
Te Prophetarum laudabilis numerus,
Te Martyrum candidatus laudat exercitus.
Te per orbem terrarum
sancta confitetur Ecclesia,
Patrem immensae maiestatis:
Venerandum tuum verum et unicum Filium;
Sanctum quoque Paraclitum Spiritum.
Tu Rex gloriae, Christe.
Tu Patris sempiternus es Filius.
Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem,
non horruisti Virginis uterum.
Tu, devicto mortis aculeo,
aperuisti credentibus regna caelorum.
Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in gloria Patris.
Iudex crederis esse venturus.
Te ergo quaesumus, tuis famulis subveni:
quos pretioso sanguine redemisti.
Aeterna fac cum sanctis tuis in gloria numerari.
Salvum fac populum tuum,
Domine, et benedic hereditati tuae.
Et rege eos, et extolle illos usque in aeternum.
Per singulos dies benedicimus te;
Et laudamus Nomen tuum in saeculum, et in saeculum saeculi.
Dignare, Domine, die isto sine peccato nos custodire.
Miserere nostri domine, miserere nostri.
Fiat misericordia tua,
Domine, super nos, quemadmodum speravimus in te.
In te, Domine, speravi:
non confundar in aeternum.

To all my readers, a most happy and blessed Easter.

Feast of St. David, patron saint of Wales

2010-02-28T18:41:00.000-08:00

Cymru am Byth!

Frédéric François Chopin (1810-1849)

2010-02-28T18:27:00.001-08:00

Born March 1, 200 years ago.

Whiggery has seen its heyday

2010-02-12T13:57:00.000-08:00

What then shall replace it?

The traditional order of Western society having recently come under unstudied attack in these pages, I cite the always insightful Gerald Warner here as evidence that I'm not merely a nostalgic, romantic dreamer.

I could play tit-for-tat and launch a broadside against the unjust, inhumane, utilitarian, and dictatorial rulers who usurped the old order and rather broadly spread human misery across society.

However, we all know the wonderful record of the dominance of mercantile democratism, and so I think it speaks for itself.

Thanks to J.K. Baltzersen at The Monarchist for the link.