Catechesis from Killaloe

CATECHESIS FROM KILLALOE

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

Then Editor's note: Our writer Peadar Laighléis has been taken to task by the Bishop of Killaloe's Advisor on Primary Catechetics, Father David Carroll, over something he wrote in The Sunday Business Post on January 14 this year.  In the course of that article, Peadar analysed the vocations crisis in the light of the new catechetical programme, evaluated developments in sacred music and architecture, and examined the policies of conferences of bishops, priests and religious in regard to issuing official statements.  Here, he responds to Father Carroll's strictures:

WHILE I received the most positive feedback to The Sunday Business Post article from people I would never have expected of having an interest, I did notice none of those who supported its conclusions were priests.

In North America, the liberal National Catholic Reporter is described as the paper of the clergy and the conservative Wanderer is described as the laity's paper.  (They used to have the same circulation, but then the Wanderer began to soar ahead in the 1990s.  Recently, it began losing readers to the more reactionary Remnant.)

Does this suggest a dichotomy between clergy and laity here as in the United States and Canada?  I know The Irish Times would like to think the middle-aged, middle-class and middle-ability suburban wannabee priestesses Patsy McGarry has such a rapport with are representative of the Catholic laity.  But they are not, if for no better reason than that they have ceased to be Catholic.

Maybe most Irish priests believe what they read in The Irish Times.  I am reminded of Mgr Michael Nolan's assertion that the clergy read Irish newspapers which have an anti-Catholic bias, but have a problem with reading The Daily Telegraph, which is somewhat favourable towards Catholicism (relatively), because of its anti-Irish bias.  A very telling point.

Aimless meetings

I mentioned the aimless meetings parents are dragged to in preparation for their children's reception of the sacraments.  Fr Carroll says he puts a great deal of work into preparation and he states his aim as

to affirm parents in the difficult work of parenthood today

and

to offer support and information on their child's faith development.

Did I read this right? Surely Fr Carroll knows that both Church teaching and the Constitution establish the parents as the primary educators of their children?  If there is to be any transfer of information on a particular child's faith development, it should be the other way round.  I personally would be inclined to tell Fr Carroll, or his equivalent in my diocese, to mind his own business.  (I should say this question is academic, as I am not married and therefore do not have children.  Many graduates of the Children of God series do not seem to realise that there ought to be a connexion between the two.)

Fr Carroll is confident that the change in catechesis is welcome and that

Faith development and education takes account now of the age and learning abilities of the child

This is just an excuse: education is in trouble nowadays.  Illiteracy and innumeracy rates are rising.  Graduates, even in sciences and commerce, require calculators for the simplest mathematical problems.  Others rely on spell-check facilities on computers to write formal letters.  In spite of all the investment in the teaching of European languages in the schools, the average Leaving Certificate student can manage to be no more than a clever tourist.  Levels of knowledge of Irish have fallen contsiderably, in spite of rising investment.

Terrifying indictment

And then there is religion.  If I were to sit down and relate all the anecdotes I have heard regarding the lack of religious knowledge, I would put a very boring multi-volume series together.

About a century and a half ago, two Anglican clergymen thought they would have some fun with an eight-year-old peasant boy in the West of Ireland and see how much he knew about his faith.  They came away dumbstruck at the level of  knowledge he had gleaned from the catechism.

That boy contrasts quite well with the products of the newer techniques, reinforced with audio-visual aids.  Would one not expect to find the highest level of religious knowledge among seminarists or those preparing to be catechists?  Yet their frequent failure to distinguish between the Incarnation and the Immaculate Conception is well known.

The inability of those in the earlier years to distinguish between the Catholic teaching on the Mass and the teaching of Cramner, Calvin, Luther and Zwingli on the Lord's Supper is a terrifying indictment of the Catholic school system.  The poor understanding of the nature of the Redemption, consequent to the Incarnation, also indicates that we are in trouble.

Their lack of appreciation of other aspects of Catholicism, peripheral to the faith, is frightening.  I know of a priest of nearly 10 years standing who managed to get through six years in Maynooth, after 13 years in Catholic schools, and could still plead that he never heard of St  Joan of Arc (the editor knows this priest's name and diocese).  In this context, Fr Carroll's remark

helping children to understand what they are learning is hardly a crime.  Or would it be better to keep up levels of ignorance? [sic]

 is quite ironic

The role of Cathal Daly

Fr Carroll is perhaps unaware that a dedicated group of parents met the then Bishop of Ardagh and Clonmacnois in the early 1970s, Mgr Cahal Daly, with reservations about the Children of God series.  They were more concerned about what was omitted than what was included - things like original sin, grace and the soul - and things which were not developed adequately - Purgatory, Hell, the 10 Commandments, the Church, angels, the Holy Trinity.  (This is far from being an exhaustive list.)  The Bishop listened and then went to sing the praises of the new programme.

Well, Alive-O takes this a stage futher.  In addition to all the omissions, one has a series of New Age inspired rituals which I could only call weird, that the children are expected to perform.  When Rod Pead, editor of Christian Order, showed me some of the Alive-O materials, I told him I believed it went beyond mere deficiency - and that I would describe it as being unhealthy.  The Constitution of Ireland, thankfully, gives parents a right to withdraw their children from the religion class.

Then we have this howler from Fr Carroll:

Indeed if Alive-O or Children of God did ignore the teachings of the Church, then one would imagine that the Bishops of Ireland would not approve the texts for use in Catholic schools throughout Ireland.

Passing the buck

Is this guy for real?  Can anyone remember an interview on catechetics given to The Irish Catholic by Mgr Thomas Finnegan, Bishop of Killala - then spokesman for the Federated Union of Bishops?  My recollection is that His Lordship of Killala said that had there been anything wrong with the Alive-O programme, then the Roman Curia would have objected to its use.  In the Garden of Eden, Adam says "it was her", and points at the flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, and then Eve says "the devil made me do it".  If the children were taught this episode, they would have a splendid example of passing the buck - a very unoriginal sin.

There is a wealth of material in ecclesiastical documents on sex education, which the Church would prefer to see as the province of the home and family rather than the school.  The RSE programme is part of a greater Social, Health and Personal Education, which is cross-curricular.  So it can creep into lessons in arithmetic, art, history, geography - or religion.  The objectives of RSE and Alive-O may be very different, but the latter made no effort to restrict the former, in spite of the fact that some RSE is explicit to the point of being pornographic.

Laughable suggestion?

Then Fr Carroll goes to what he believes was the most important point to make about the entire article.  I said of the prospective seminarist:

He probably lacks the support of family or local clergy enjoyed by previous generations.

This I intended as a sympathetic assessment of the situation from the student's point of view.  Fr Carroll retorts:

But never since the day I entered seminary have I experienced a lack of support from family or friends.  To suggest that one could make such a decision without such support is laughable.

Who is laughing at whom?  If Fr Carroll has this marvelous support, he is very fortunate.  But he says more than that.  First of all he sees his priesthood as based on a decision.  Not a vocation from God?  Decisions relate to lifestyle options.

Secondly, he believes that to suggest this decision could be made without the support of family and friends is laughable.  So, St Thomas Aquinas resistance to his family to join the Dominicans is laughable?  Ss Edmund Campion and John Ogilvie joined the Jesuits and were martyred  - nobody supported these men.

If Fr Carroll really believes priesthood depends on support of family or friends, I wonder what he would do if this support were ever withdrawn.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 53, February-March 2001

Céide and Cardinal Connell

CÉIDE AND CARDINAL CONNELL

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

CÉIDE is a disingenuous magazine.  It has adopted the motto Doras Feasa Fiafraighe which it translates as "The door to knowledge is questioning".  Fiafraighe is more accurately translated as "asking" rather than "questioning".

Anyway, the Céide people are not good questioners.  For example, while they insist upon questioning every aspect of Catholicism which readers of The Brandsma Review accept, why are they so confident about the fruits of the Second Vatican Council?

Why can they not see the irony of calling Céide a "review from the margins" while touting articles by such establishment figures as Garrett FitzGerald, Michael D. Higgins and Mary Robinson (who all have more than their share of questionable actions - unquestioned by an uninquisitive media)?  Why do they accept the media's assertion that journalists, both print and broadcast, do not form but reflect public opinion?

To digress from religion for a moment: consider the recent revelations about the 1970s Arms Trial.  Captain James Kelly has been referred to on the airwaves as the Dreyfus of modern Irish history and is guarranteed a more favourable reception than hitherto.  (It is true that a terrible injustice was done to him - and now that he is "politically correct" how many new supporters will gather round him?).

But is anyone going to sit down and analyse the media presentation of the political protagonists in the intervening years: Messrs. Lynch, Gibbons, O'Malley, Haughey and Blaney?  Céide correspondent Dr FitzGerald got away with referring to Mr Haughey's "flawed pedigree" in Dáil Éireann in 1979, by which he meant the arms trials rather than the more recent allegations of corruption.

Remember how bright the Progressive Democrats were painted in 1985, about two and a half years before they proposed their Godless Constitution on Trinity Sunday of 1988?  But I am not dwelling on the political vagaries of the last 31 years, only the media's assertions about itself that Céide has no trouble accepting.

I would have thought Dr FitzGerald should be ashamed to comment on Ireland's birthrate, as he does in the April/May Céide.  His 1982-1987 coalition closed Carysfort College, confident there would soon be a shortage of primary school children (Family Planning [Amendment] Act, 1985?).   They got it badly wrong: this is a severe shortage of primary teachers now.

Forgive my brief partisan digression.

Knack of opening doors

Céide has a problem with Cardinal Connell.  I must confess I had a good gloat over the commentary by  Fathers Hegarty, Hoban and other anonymous sources sitting at the feet of  Rev Michael Enda McDonagh - in quick succession Professor of Moral Theology in Maynooth; chaplain to Mary Robinson in the Park; and President of the People's Democratic Union of Priests.  Can anyone tell me what Father McDonagh's handshake is like?  I would love to know.  He seems capable of opening so many doors - though his friend Dr FitzGerald failed to talk Monsignor Alibrandi into moving him into a big house in Tuam in the 1980s.

It is funny that these middle-aged established clerics were so shocked at the advent of  a bright young orthodox priest called Fr David O'Hanlon, who was caricatured in Céide's commentary.  (Hang out with Father David for too long and you won't be invited to suburban middle class semi-ds by non-practicing 30-somethings for Chablis and Brie).  Well, they seem to find the septuagenarian cardinal as threatening as the notorious trigintarian curate.

They are hurting

They don't quite say that Cardinal Connell should not have got the red hat.  But they are terribly hurt on behalf of liberal Irish Catholics and Protestant churchmen (who, Father Hegarty tells us, are also disciples.)  Dominus Iesus and intercommunion are the stumbling blocks in regard to the latter.

I have already stated Céide's mantra "Vatican II" (Has anyone analysed this 36-year old fundamentalism - the cult of the Spirit-of-Vatican II?).  So would it come to a surprise to them that Dominus Iesus might be a rehash of Dignatatus Humanae, the Declaration of Religious Liberty?  Dominus Iesus is founded on the conciliar documents as it is written - not on what a manipulative intelligentsia, both ecclesiastical and secular has duped the tea-and-biscuit ecumenists into thinking it says.

Traditionalists have heard endless debates about the use of the Latin verb subsistere (which doesn't quite mean "to subsist") in regard to the Church of Christ in the visible Catholic Church.  This led to a reaction against the document on the council floor.  Dominus Iesus now apologetically uses the same verb, and largely repeats what was stated.  Although it has been denounced as heresy by extreme Dominican supporters of the Society of St Pius X in Avrillé, the greatest opponents of the new document are those who purport to be loyal adherents to its mother-document.

Archbishop Wojtyla, who was influential in the debate on religious liberty at the Council and the framing of the Declaration, is now portrayed as the reactionary pontiff who tenaciously holds on to life.  Rev Professor Joseph Ratzinger, friend of Rahner and Küng, is now the Grand Inquisitor of a reformation tract.  And Dominus Iesus is open to vilification.  One cannot help but question the leadership of the Pontifical Council Promoting Christian Unity, since the time of Cardinal Bea.  So is it really a case of Bea culpa, Bea culpa, Bea maxima culpa?
Shooting the messenger
Monsignor Desmond Connell, Archbishop of Dublin and Primate of Ireland, defends the document.  This earns him the ire of liberals, who prefer the Second Vatican Council the way they imagined it rather than the way it was.  Rev Patrick Jones of the National Liturgy Centre must find this every time some erudite lay observer reminds him that Sacrosanctum Concilium did not mandate the gutting of church sanctuaries, and can quote the document.  It goes a lot further than church architecture: eg, it states that Latin should remain the language of the Mass; and that Gregorian chant should be the norm for sung Masses.

And there are more where that came from.  The Council Documents also ask priests and religious to continue wearing a distinctive mode of dress.  The Second Vatican Council did not, or could not, accept the reformed sects as "sister churches" and neither does Dominus Iesus.  Cardinal Connell states this, and the liberal approach is to shoot the messenger.  But that is to be expected from a clergy who are quite used to twisting their presentation of the faith to suit themselves.
Orthodox on intercommunion
As for intercommunion, ecumenism and ecumania - I lament we do not have a larger Eastern Orthodox community in this country.  In that case, ecumenism would have a more balanced focus.  I would relish seeing well-heeled liberal Catholics refused communion by bearded archimandrites at the iconostasis.

Over a decade ago, a delegation from the Russian Church (before the fall of the Soviet Union) visited Maynooth.  An ill-informed deacon offered the Metropolitan of Odessa the chalice at Mass.  The Metropolitan refused.  This has not entered the lore of intercommunion on these islands.  So when Archbishop Connell offends a number of religiously illiterate bourgeois housewives in BASIC who socialise with The Irish Times' Patsy McGarry (who also contributes to Céide), he gets vilified.  And Father Hegarty sees Dr Connell's new red biretta as giving

little hope to Irish Catholic liberals who need leadership

Don't they have the media to lead them where they want to go?
Left losing support
Céide also names Father Vincent Twomey SVD, lecturer in Moral Theology in Maynooth as Connell's ultimate successor.  As I have no access to their crystal ball, I will not comment.  Fr Twomey studied under Ratzinger at Regensburg in the late 1960s, after the future Cardinal moved away from the jet-setting theologians who founded Concilium.

Céide's main source of information on Father Twomey is John Allen's new biography of Cardinal Ratzinger.  John Allen is a correspondent with the American National Catholic Reporter.  This has been the flagship periodical of the American Catholic left since the Second Vatican Council.  It has been losing steam for some time recently, as it has noticed that the younger generation  of American Catholics is either leaving the Church altogether (often to become Eastern Orthodox or evangelical protestants) or going to conservative, traditionalist or eastern Catholic movements.  The United States Catholic left, hard and soft, is losing support.  Would Céide profit by their example?
Swipe at St Thérèse
Céide have some solutions of their own.  They suggested that when Jim Cantwell retired from the Catholic Press and Information Office, he be replaced by a bright young woman like Annette O'Donnell.  Do they seriously believe that perception is everything?  I think they seriously need to question the media.  And they also propose Father John O'Donoghue as the perfect candidate to translate the Church's spiritual treasury into the language of the unchurched young (this is my terminology).  Father O'Donoghue did not even identify himself as a priest in Anamchara, which was a highly questionable work anyway.

Father Hoban denigrates alternatives to Anamchara, such as trips to Medjugorje and tours of boxes of relics (a swipe at St Thérèse of Lisieux).  In the first instance, the Medjurgorje phenonomen has not been (and is unlikely to be) authenticated by the Church, and pilgrimages there are private affairs.  And the tour of St Thérèse's relics is based on an initiative of the laity - not the hierarchy, not the clergy and not the religious.
Spiritual bankruptcy
This is something that Father Hoban should reflect upon: the paternalistic liberals dominating the Irish clergy do not seem to accept the fact that the most dedicated among the laity now have a different vision to them.  Has the faith they once possessed deserted them so completely that they react against anything tainted by traditional Catholicism - even though, in the majority of instances, this does not in fact come from traditionalists?

Do they not see that the apparitions and the prayer-groups and the new devotions are born out of the spiritual and sacramental bankruptcy of many pastoral settings?  The present state of affairs  has its origin in a false reading of the Second Vatican Council.  Céide follows The National Catholic Reporter in this respect.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 54, May-June 2001

Mgr Cremin and the Revolution

MGR CREMIN AND THE REVOLUTION

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

Beatus servus quem, cum venerit dominus, invenerit vigilantum - St Matthew, 24:26

DR NOEL BROWNE had a theological advisor.  In his memoirs Against the Tide he outlined the advice he received regarding his Mother and Child Scheme.  The hierarchy were confusing the area of social teaching with moral teaching and reacted incorrectly.  But the advisor was unnamed until the publication of John Horgan's recent biography of Dr Browne.  It was the late Monsignor Patrick Francis Cremin, P.A., S.T.D, J.U.D.

Mgr Cremin was born in Kerry on October 10, 1910.  He had a brilliant student career in Killarney and Maynooth, as well as distinguishing himself as a hurler.  He spent two years in Rome, remarkably achieving two doctorates, one of which was the Juris Utriusque Doctor - Doctor of both Civil and Canon Law. (He was one of only three JUDs who taught at Maynooth since 1795).  He became Professor of Moral and Dogmatic Theology in the Pontifical University, Maynooth on his 29th birthday and in 1949, Professor of Canon Law.  He was Librarian of Maynooth between 1939 and 1946.

One priest said, perhaps in reference to Dr Cremin's prowess with the camán in minor and major seminary, that Frank Cremin occupied the same position on the pitch as ever, but the goalposts were moved so much that he went from the centre to the extreme right.

Resident reactionary pariah

Well, what brought an adviser to the socialist Minister for Health in the 1948-51 Government to become regarded as Maynooth's resident reactionary pariah in the 1980s and1990s?

In 1962, the bishops went to Rome to Pope John's Council.  There was a question whether Professor Cremin would accompany them; most bishops thought not.  The Archbishop of Dublin, Dr McQuaid, brought Dr Cremin as a peritus.  In the course of the council, Francis Cremin debated with other periti - notably Professor Hans Küng - and he worked on Christus Dominus, the Decree on the Bishop's Pastoral Office in the Church, a key document in dealing with the controversial issue of collegiality.

It might be said that few Irishmen has as much insight into the Second Vatican Council as Father Cremin.  But this did not mean preferment.  In 1966, Mgr Mitchell stepped down as President of Maynooth to become parish priest of Ballinrobe.  Fr Cremin was the senior academic in Maynooth and Dean of the Faculty of Canon Law.  The Professor of Ecclesiastical History, Fr Corish, succeeded Mgr Mitchell and he in turn was succeeded by Fr Jeremiah Newman, Professor of Catholic Action and Sociology.  Among other things, Fr Newman was active in promoting the admission of lay students to Maynooth in 1966.  In his capacity as a sociologist, he also spent sometime living in a hippie commune in California.
A job well done
History is written by the victors.  Humanae Vitae was promulgated in 1968 and the Irish hierarchy asked Father Cremin to present it to the Irish media.  Television viewers watched Dr Cremin declare:

There you have it, gentlemen - no change.

To read David Quinn's piece in The Irish Catholic marking the 30th anniversary of Humanae Vitae, one would think the press conference was a disaster.  Immediately after the conference, Professor Cremin asked Archbishop McQuaid's press officer for an appraisal of how he handled the media, and was told he did very well.

It seems controversy developed afterwards when a would-be Labour TD named Conor Cruise-O'Brien initiated a protracted correspondence on the subject in The Irish Times.  But how in tune with Irish public opinion was Dr Cruise-O'Brien at the time?

Leaving aside the antics of Mrs Robinson, Mary Kenny and others on a train from Belfast in the 1970s, the criminalisation of contraception was found to be unconstitutional in the Magee judgement in 1973, thanks to the "emanation of a penumbra" school of jurisprudence, enabling the Supreme Court to discover a "right to marital privacy" in de Valera's constitution.  So the then Fine Gael liberal, Patrick Cooney, attempted to legislate on the matter in 1975.  After a debate, during which the former Fianna Fáil Justice Minister Desmond O'Malley referred to Mr Cooney's Bill as a "licence to fornicate" (I am not making this up), Dáil  Éireann was startled to see An Taoiseach, Liam MacCosgair and several Fine Gael TDs walking through the Níl lobby with Fianna Fáil.

In 1979, Charles Haughey was Minister for Health and Social Welfare and he introduced his Family Planning Bill.  At the time, the Bill was opposed by a majority of voters in Deputy Haughey's constituency.  Mr Haughey's Act has been described as an Irish solution to an Irish problem, as if Serbo-Croatian solutions to Irish problems are somehow more desirable.  This allowed contraceptives on to the statute books for the first time since their ban in the 1920s.  It was a decisive factor in bringing Pope John Paul II to Ireland on his third foreign trip.
Lengthy transition
This was the law until Dr FitzGerald and Mr Desmond decided otherwise in 1985.  I was outside Leinster House the day Mr Desmond's Bill was debated in the Oireachtas.  The climate outside was palpable.  Most of the people of Ireland did not want this Bill passed.  Mr O'Malley was again on the opposition benches and this time he just couldn't make up his mind, so he abstained.  At the division, 83 voted Tá, 80 Níl, with two abstentions - largely a result of the imposition of a three-line whip.  This was before the red herring of AIDS was introduced into the equation.

A few years later, Deputy Haughey was Taoiseach and Deputy O'Malley, now leader of the Progressive Democrats, was in his cabinet and AIDS was seen as a burning issue.  Mr O'Malley assured the Taoiseach of his party's support for a further relaxation of Mr Desmond's Act.  He found that half his party had problems with his liberal stance on the issue - but all this evaporated a few years later when Brendan Howlin succeed Dr John O'Connell as Minister for Health in 1992.  It took Ireland nearly a quarter of a century after Humanae Vitae to embrace the contraceptive mentality.  And this transition did not come easily.  For this reason, I cannot conclude that the 1968 launch of Humanae Vitae was a disaster.
Pipped by Casey
Following the press conference, Fr Cremin had other battles.  He was passed over for the episcopacy - notably when Fr Éamonn Casey was made Bishop of Kerry.  His Eminence William Cardinal Conway told Mgr Casey that it had taken him four years to convince the Congregation of Bishops that he was a better choice than Dr Cremin.  Dr Cremin got the title Monsignor as a consolation prize.

Some rebel seminarists in Maynooth demanded a course on sexual ethics.  Mgr Cremin agreed, on the condition he could deliver the course in a language of his choice.  Henceforth the lectures and examinations on the subject were exclusively in Latin.  But Maynooth had taken a turn for the worse and Mgr Cremin discovered he had to explain matters to Third Divinity students on topics they should have covered in First Divinity, and later, even things that should have been dealt with in school catechesis.

In the late 1970s, he had a series of four articles published in the Irish Independent entitled "What's Wrong with Maynooth?"  This was principally an appeal to the hierarchy to do something.   The one active element of his career was to assist in the drafting of the 1983 Codex Iuris Canonici, with the special reference to the section on the canon law of marriage.  In 1998, he was made a Protonotary Apostolic.
Lonely retirement
Mgr Cremin's years following his retirement were lonely.  A whole folklore about him developed in the college that was quite inconsistent with reality.  Clerical students were not encouraged to make a habit of speaking with him, and those who did were rewarded with a reprimand.  He did not say the Tridentine Mass, nor even the Novus Ordo in Latin.  He said the Novus Ordo Mass in English in the Lady Chapel in Maynooth College Chapel, using Roman vestments and strictly adhering to the rubrics - and he said the Roman canon in a low voice.  On one occasion, I served his Mass and reminded myself that the celebrant of the Novus Ordo Mass used water only for the post communion purifications and not wine, as in the old Mass.  So I was suprised when he requested wine.  He said Mass versus Dominum until the altar in the Lady Chapel was taken back.

He was incredibly well informed about the current situation in the Church.  He believed this current crisis to be worse than the Reformation and that the situation was beyond human redemption.  He was confident of a glorious revival, though not in his own lifetime.  He continued to maintain a broad focus on the world, reading several newspapers regularly, and I remember during a spate of industrial action, his response was to say we neglected the encyclicals on social justice at our peril.
Deeper problems
At a more local level, he was critical of the Maynooth authorities' sudden hardening of attitude towards domestic staff in the early 1990s (until then, domestic staff were treated in a manner consistent with Catholic social teaching rather than with contemporary business practice).  He retained his interest in sport, but regarded the disproportionate reaction to Ireland's soccer successes in 1988, 1990 and 1994 as symptomatic of deeper problems.

In 1999, he moved out of Maynooth when the college authorities closed the infirmary.  This meant that, as his health was deteriorating, he could not rely on medical care as hitherto.  Care for retired academic staff was no longer a priority at St Patrick's College, Maynooth.  On November 1, 2001 he died in a nursing home in Tralee.

Requiem aeternum dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetuae luceat ei.  Anima ejus, et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum, per misericordiam Dei, requiescant in pace.  Amen.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 59, March-April 2002  

Engaging the National Patron

ENGAGING THE NATIONAL PATRON
by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS
Vivo autem iam non ego vivit vero in me Christus.(Galatians 2, 20)

ONE EXERCISE I did in the New Year was a response to a challenge by Joe McCarroll was to return to the fundamental documents concerning Christianity in Ireland. I am referring to St Patrick’s Confessions and Letter to the Soldiers of Coroticus. I worked through Dr Ludwig Bieler’s Latin text, helpfully provided in Bishop William Philbin’s Mise Pádraig and Bishop Joseph Duffy’s Patrick in His Own Words. Both bishops provided their own translation, Mgr Philbin in Irish and Mgr Duffy in English.  The former Bishop of Clogher, though, provided a free translation and also used The Jerusalem Bible as a model for the numerous scriptural quotes, for which the saint used the pre-Vulgate Latin translations. In this, Mgr Duffy followed the trends in the 1970s which elevated readability over literal accuracy in scripture and liturgy alike. But let me state that the notes in the bishop’s text are also valuable and it is possible to consult the Latin text with the English translation. For those who read Irish, Mgr Philbin’s text is both accurate and elegant and he too provides an interesting commentary.

Irish history begins in 431. This is not to say nothing happened in Ireland before this; there is plenty of evidence that much did. What it does say is that an entry in the Prosper of Aquataine’s Chronicle for this year tells us that Pope Celestine IV sent Bishop Palladius to preach to the Irish believing in Christ.  This was the initial point of a continuum which marked the systematic recording of Irish history since then, which what I mean by the first statement. The sentence itself tells us that there were Irish Christians prior to this date. There are several reasons why this was the case. First of all, there was much commercial interaction between Ireland and what is now Wales. The languages of both were still mutually comprehendible. There was population movement and trade between the two countries. Ireland was a good place to go in periods of persecution when it was still an issue in the Roman Empire. There were conversions of native Irish. And of course, many Christians were brought to Ireland as slaves.

We do not know a lot about Palladius, but the little we know is quite interesting. He was associated with St Germanus of Auxerre. St Germanus was in Britain in 429 to deal with the Pelagian heresy. Pelagius himself was British and though the case is made that he was personally orthodox, he has left his name on a heresy. He met both Ss Augustine and Jerome and made an impression. St Jerome said he was bloated with Scottish (i.e. Irish) porridge (Scotorum pultibus proegravatus). Pelagianism rejects Original Sin and the Grace of God, so Pelagians believe they gain heaven by their own labour alone and Christ is an exemplar rather than a saviour. Palladius went from Britain to Ireland where his mission was probably more successful than we imagine. But he was only the precursor in the story.

Of Welsh, Cornish and Breton stock

Before I even begin on St Patrick, there is much controversy over both his date and place of birth. I have heard a lot of arguments locating Bannava Tabarniae in Scotland, England and France, but as none of the above were yet settled by Scots, Anglo- Saxons or Franks, the location is irrelevant to the saint’s nationality. St Patrick was a Roman citizen and ethnic Celt. His family were well off, had been Christian for a few generations and seemed to have had interests in both Britain and Gaul. Mgr Duffy argues the saint’s Latin had a Gaulish accent, but this may be a product of education rather than upbringing. There was a British colony in present day Scotland, but it seems very far from a Gaulish base. I am convinced by the argument that “Tabarniae” could be the genitive for “Sabarnia”, which could indicate somewhere around the mouth of the Severn (“t” can replace an initial “s” in Celtic genitives, with the pattern crossing into Celtic Latin). Calling the saint a Welshman is an anachronism, but he was certainly of the stock of the Welsh, Cornish and Bretons. The saint was born in the late fourth century at the earliest, but I am more persuaded for the theory that his mission began in the 450s rather than the traditional 432 which seems much too close to Palladius’ apostolate. In this regard, I would calculate that the saint was born in the early fifth century.

The young saint had no interest in Christianity. He tells us that before his abduction he was guilty of some sin or other which was sufficiently grave to cause him shame much later in life. It has been suggested by modern commentators that this sin was sexual, but this would not have had particular opprobrium attached among young men of his class in the late Roman Empire, so the suggestion it was murder is a bit more convincing. St Patrick believed his abduction was a punishment for this sin. He was taken to Ireland and sold into slavery, with members of his household and others. He was sold to a farmer to keep flocks and herds, in a place now believed to be Slemish in Co Antrim. The later biographers of St Patrick state he kept pigs, but present day farmers believe only sheep would survive on the higher slopes of Slemish and pigs and cattle would be confined to lower ground. It is possible the saint did a variety of work, but what is clear is that his Christianity came alive on Slemish. Here he prayed one hundred times a day and one hundred times a night. He was eventually guided by a dream to run two hundred miles away to find a ship to take him to Gaul, Mgr Philbin suggests around Killala Bay. Initially, he was not admitted as he refused to compromise his new found Christianity. The captain thought better of it and sent a sailor after him to bring him back. It turned out that his presence was useful.  The ship landed in Gaul and the crew wandered severa lweeks in the wilderness before asking Patrick topray. After which they came upon a herd of pigs. The devastation in Gaul testifies to the barbarian assaults as the Roman Empire was breaking down in the West.

Internalised the Scriptures

St Patrick was reunited with his family at the age of twenty-two. They wanted him to stay, but he knew he had to go elsewhere. He missed out on several valuable years’ in education, which is seen in his Latin, but he did study. If the Confession and the Letter to Coroticus show anything, it is how he internalised the scripture. This is evident after he returned to Ireland.  Though later writings give a developed narrative on St Patrick’s work in Ireland, the saint himself has little to say. A strong case can be made that Letter came before the Confession. The Confession appears to be a justification made afterward. In the Letter, the saint doesn’t mince his words about the raids on Ireland.  Many of his own converts were murdered or enslaved. He attempted to ransom the converts but was rebuffed. He excommunicated all the perpetrators.  This is where the bone of contention appears to have arisen: the Church in Britain were not prepared to recognise this and carried on as if nothing had happened.  At this stage, the saint produced his own apologia.

Unconventional

The Confession is not a conventional autobiography, but does give us most of the reliable biographical information we have about St Patrick. To a large extent it is a reaction against the charges made against him by the British Church. In this respect, he is very defensive. No one can doubt the man’s sincerity, but if there is a recurring theme again and again, it is his refrain that he did not carry out the work, but that God worked through him. This is an assertion of orthodox theology against Pelagianism. It happens too often not to be deliberate. The context of a British church riddled with Pelagianism while denigrating Patrick’s personal integrity occurs to one straight away. Issues such as his lack of polished Latin or the unknown sin of his youth came up at the time, and he justified himself. They also suggested he made money from the apostolate, when in fact he spent the little he had to work with.

Trials like Saint Paul’s

One imagines that St Patrick identified very closely with St Paul. He quotes him again and again. In recounting his own trials at the hands of some more hostile recipients, St Patrick’s list is very similar to that of St Paul. Though he was not martyred, he came close enough to it on a few occasions. In relation to his effect on those he preached to, one upper class lady came to him within days of receiving baptism seeking to take the veil. Though St Patrick’s own writing plays down the miraculous, one is impressed that the saint is living in the wake of the original Pentecost with all the gifts and fruits of the Holy Ghost, nowhere more than in the response of the Irish to his preaching.

The Confessions may be termed a working autobiography or apologia, but it lacks finality. This is par for the course in such works. However, at the time of writing, the saint concluded that the substantive work of converting the Irish to Christianity was done. To a certain extent, he seems to have believed himself to be in the end times, because he states that the message of Christ was brought to the world’s edge. This was, and is, one of the conditions which must precede the last times. St Patrick lived through the collapse of the Roman Empire in the west. Though he was first taken from his privileged position as a Roman citizen, he later chose to forego it for the greater glory of God.  But he was aware that for a great many people just like him, there was little choice in the matter. In this way, the Confessions has a flavour of the Apocalypse as well as of the Acts. St Patrick did not completely obliterate heathendom in Ireland. It took several centuries after him before this was the case: evangelisation is a slow and drawn out process and our own day shows us it can never be taken for granted and frequently needs renewal. But what the mission of the national apostle ensured was that it would happen. The impression he made on the Irish, particularly on the nobility in the north of the country which had been least touched by pre-Patrician Christian incursions, put the chain of events in motion which would result in the nation embracing the faith in its entirity sooner rather than later.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 137, March-April 2014

Céide Pops it Clogs - Shall we dance?

CÉIDE POPS ITS CLOGS - SHALL WE DANCE?

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

 I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him - Mark Anthony in Julius Caesar

THERE is a difference between writing an obituary and dancing on someone's grave and by the time I am finished this article, I am sure no one will have any doubt as to which of the two I am indulging in here.  (If you have not already guessed when you saw my name under the above headline on the cover.)  I have had occasion to comment upon Céide in the past, after my attention was drawn to the magazine by the late Mgr Cremin.  Mgr Cremin was furious that the pre-launch publicity should advertise a robust respect for dissent.  When it was launched in September 1997, I said:

Céide, my friends, is a bunch of ancient hippies talking to themselves.  For all their talk of imagination and creativity, they offer only the smae worn-out clichés.  Harmless as it seems, this medicine has well-nigh destroyed the Church in Holland, Canada and elsewhere.  These guys just don't get it.  (BR, Issue 33)

I returned to the theme last year:

This [the American National Catholic Reporter] has been the flagship periodical of the American Catholic left since the Second Vatican Council.  It has been losing steam for some time...The United States Catholic left, hard and soft, is losing support.  Would Céide profit by their example (BR, Issue 54)

Signs of the times
Well now, maybe it is time for the National Catholic Reporter to imitate Céide - and fold.  Liberals always talk of the sings of the times and how we must interpret them.  So, let us look at a few signs of the times.  The contrast between the National Catholic Reporter and another American Catholic paper, The Wanderer, was interesting.  Some time ago, both seemed to have similar circulations.  But on investigation, the NCR's source of revenue was due to priests who ordered multiple copies for their churches.  The more conservative Wanderer relied principally on individual subscriptions from laity who went to the trouble to order it in the post.  It takes no logic to deduce which of the two had the greater support of a committed laity.  So what did the signs of the times indicate?  And now, the Wanderer has a clearer lead.

I don't know what the circulation of Céide was.  It may well have been several times that of the Brandsma Review, but I doubt it.  The point is that the Brandsma Review has reached its tenth anniversary (ad multos annos!) since the horrible days in the immediate aftermath of the X Case, and Céide will not see its fifth anniversary.  The Brandsma Review has been for the most part a lay enterprise, notwithstanding the support of Father Brendan Purcell and many other priests over the years - between contributors, promoters and subscribers.  Céide has been first and foremost a clerical initiative, with some lay collaborators.

The Brandsma Review has always been run on a shoestring budget and seeks to present its message unadorned to those who will read it.  Céide, on the other hand, was always an elegant production, complete with coloured photographs and a glossy finish.  The lack of advertisements was sufficient evidence of generous donors.  Nevertheless, the quality of the magazine was not enough to generate the necessary readership to sustain the magazine.  Therefore, why not question the message?
Charter for a People's Church
The editorial team in Céide had absolutely no doubt about the message.  In the final edition, their anonymous critic of ecclesiastical politics, An Ridire (the knight - the only Irish word apparently derived from the German language, from Ritter) spells out what the message is:

The success of the divine conspiracy - enforced accountability, decline of vocations, the growth of lay structures, the end of oppressiveness of clericalism, the sweep of democracy - will ensure the continued implosion of structures that militate against the progress of the Church, sharing the Good News.  The game is up, lads.  God's hand will not be stayed.

I thought this rather ironic.  It came at the end of a charter for a People's Church.  A People's Church which will be governed by lay structures, with

...[a] more creative and compassionate response to issues like divorce and remarriage...the reconstitution of a new priesthood will lead to married clergy and in time the ordination of women.  The next concerted push of the forces of democratisation...will sweep aside the creaky structures that paid too much respect to élites and hierarchies.

To the barracades, comrades!  When I read the above, I heard a choir singing in the back of my head: 

Partiya Lenina, sila narodnaya/Nas k torzhestvu Komunisma vedyot! (Party of Lenin, strength of the People/To Communism's triumph lead us on!)

For those who don't know, I am quoting the Hymn of the Soviet Union.  I am not accusing Der Ritter of being a Stalinist - only of being oblivious to the irony of using this type of rhetoric: the irony is that the game is actually up for Céide rather than for Our Mother, the Church.
On the margins? 
Since the first Pentecost, the Church has seen a lot of demagogues come and go, preaching all sorts of weird and wonderful things, just as she has seen all sorts of prophets of doom attacking her from the other side.  But Céide seems to have been frozen  into its own particular historical and geographical groove, unable in a serious way to engage either with contemporary cultures or - very importantly for Catholics (the Church does teach that tradition is a source of revelation) - with all the previous generations of Catholics in this and other Catholic cultures.  And the Céide people are themselves an élite and a hierarchy of sorts, supremely confident that they know best.

Céide forever prided itself on being on the margins.  Was it really?  It attracted some very heavyweight writers over the years.  It was very happy challenging the Church hierarchy, but did not relish opposing something like The Irish Times or the intelligentsia in this country.  Its target audience were not the underprivileged in Irish society - given the price and content of Céide and its failure to address their real concerns.

 The general views of this country's underclass on travellers and refugees, for example, would make the hair stand up straight or many politically-correct heads.  The only thing marginal about the magazine was how insignificant the Céide team were in the context of the bigger picture and how this reality was lost on them.
More mediaeval view
I am not sure any more if, strictly speaking, Céide was on the Left.  In some ways it was quite conservative.  I was personally educated in the Enlightenment ethos (which I have substantially rejected).  One of its tenets was the separation of Church and State and another was universal freedom of religion and conscience.

In one sense, it is of little significance how few in this country profess or practice Catholicism.  If it is a small minority, it is our duty to act as witnesses to the Faith in the hope of conversion through example, but we may not force the faith on anyone.  The Céide team seemed to have a more mediaeval view of the organic connexion between Church, State and society, believing society must be maintained within the Church at all costs.

If this meant the Church must embrace the mores of society, they seemed to regard this as preferable to writing off huge numbers of members.  Céide tended towards a form of Erastianism, based as much on public opinion as secular authority.  The imperative seemed to be to keep the 95% of citizens of the 26 counties who are nominally Catholic still actually calling themselves Catholic, in spite of deviations in faith and morals by a great proportion of them.
Crowning with Thorns
It would have been salutary for the Céide team to have reflected on the Third Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary, the Crowning with Thorns.  Listen to the mob before Pilate: "We have no king but Caesar!"  Our Lord, with the mock crown on His head, clearly announces to Pilate that His kingdom is not of this world.  The Céide worldview did not seem to acknowledge the subtle distinction between sacred and secular authority.  You do not deny the kingship of Christ just to accommodate the crowd.

Given that Der Ritter gives divorce as an example of creative compassion, I seem to recall a particular divorce case where some creative compassion was demanded.  A certain progressive and very successful cleric reckoned he could acquire an annulment for his employer and failed, ending his life with the words "If only I served God as well as I have served my king..."  A reactionary layman stood up to the king at the time, at the cost of his life - and proclaimed himself at the scaffold to be "the king's good servant, but God's first".  If they don't know what I am talking about here, the writers in Céide would do well to rent the video A Man for All Seasons for a night.

 Well, Céide have not succeeded in accommodating the crowd.  Instead they have faded into oblivion, largely unnoticed by the world around them.  They have not impressed a new vision on the Catholic faithful in Ireland.  And for all their trumpet blowing, the desired innovations within the Church are as far away as ever.  And last time I checked, John Paul II was still Pope.

I do not believe this is the last we will hear from the Céide team - they will still be around for some time.  But they will not be so fast to launch a magazine like this again.  Their support base is not growing.  It is dwindling.

Now, can anybody strike up a hornpipe?  I think I want to dance.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 61, July-August 2002 

The National Way - Where?

THE NATIONAL WAY - WHERE?

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

WHERE do St Thomas More and Samuel Butler have nowhere in common?  Thus runs an old trick question.  The answwere is that they both wrote books entitled "Nowhere": More's Utopia is derived from the Greek ou topos (not place) and Butler's Erewhon is an anagram for nowhere.

In a collection of 14 essays entitled The National Way Forward, Justin Barrett attempts to map the path ahead for Ireland.  He reflects upon the position of our country, the so-called Celtic Tiger, in the aftermath of the X Case, the Maastricht Treaty, the divorce referendum and the Amsterdam Treaty.  He analyses Ireland from a political, economic and moral point of view and proposes some long-term solutions to what he sees as the current crisis.

I believe this is a book which the Pro-Life Campaign should have read and taken to heart prior to the March referendum.  Published well before the Protection of Human Life in Pregnancy Bill, it contains the following observation:

Surely we knew the Supreme Court was politically appointed and, if the Government were not Pro-Life, the Court could not indefinitely remain so?  Surely, we must have understood that a Pro-Life Amendment, no matter how cleverly crafted, could not survive deliberate malevolence on the part of ideologically motivated Justices?  That, plainly, constitutional prohibition on abortion could not forever resist both a hostile legislature and a hostile judiciary?

And there is the most basic question - IF WE DID NOT UNDERSTAND IT THEN, DO WE UNDERSTAND THAT NOW?

If we do not, then it is, as the saying goes, all over bar the shouting.  For new referendum or not, the forces fighting for Life will have committed the cardinal error of short-sightedness and narrow focus, which must inevitably deliver this country up to legalised and widespread abortion - and sooner rather than later.  (The National Way Forward, p. 16, emphasis in original)

So, in his examination of the X Case and its fall out, Mr Barrett seems to dismiss the practicality of any further pro-life amendment, let alone one with a specific wording.  In his analysis of recent Irish history, the X Case is pivotal to the direction the nation has taken, but his treatment of the case in the book's first essay caricatures the issue by subjecting the court to pop-psychoanalysis, and introduces a novel conspiracy theory to which the Hederman judgement can be regarded a key.  There is no doubt that all pro-lifers found the majority judgement in X to be deeply shocking.  But Mr Barrett's conclusion above is unhelpful, to say the least.

Conspiracy theory

In regard to the other meditations, it could be said that Mr Barrett's Weltanschauung is one that follows the masthead of this journal: Pro Vita, Pro Ecclesia Dei, et Pro Hibernia.  However, I do not think too many of the Brandsma Review's commentators would follow him down the roads he takes.  One can sympathise with an economic analysis that is critical of usury and the notion of money.  However, most of us would recognise the importance of both to the global economy.  For all the many faults of the present system, it would be unrealistic and a waste of energy to work on an alternative.

And peddling versions for a conspiracy theory substantially the same as that found in The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Sion is not going to help either.  International finance may well have been behind the October Revolution of 1917, but as long as it remains unproved, it is at least unwise to publish the idea as established fact.

In regard to this country, Mr Barrett is right to see moral bankruptcy cutting across Irish society.  But some of his solutions are problematic.  For example, replacing the Oireachtas with a popularly elected executive president with absolute discretion to appoint a cabinet and without any formal opposition is, let us say, worrying.  Then one recalls that in the Republic, the leitmotiv is Plato's wish for a time when philosophers would be kings and kings philosophers.  Colloquially, this may be translated as "I want to be in charge".  But there the comparison between Plato and Mr Barrett ends - even if much of the latter's thought displays an idealisation of Spartan frugality, also evident in Plato.  This idealisation has appeared again and again in western thought: de Valera, whom Mr Barrett despises, was also an admirer of Sparta.

Questionable assertions

Some of Mr Barrett's historical assertions are questionable.  The idolisation of Michael Collins is not founded on wide reading of the 1916-1922 period, and the suggestion that W. T. Cosgrave ordered his shooting would require a lot more evidence than the conjecture offered.

Moving to our own times, Mr Barrett seems to think we can do business with Sinn Féin, as he doesn't think most of its supporters have much in common with the party's socialist platform.  But Sinn Féin's socialist manifesto must surely be taken absolutely seriously.  Sinn Féin have made political gains in the North, and to a lesser extent in the south, on their stated platform.  To think that one can make a deal with them on the basis of some understood alternative agenda that would be more palatable to us, is ludicrous. 

For a long time now, the bulk of the Provisional IRA members have adopted the philosophy and methodology of Marxist guerrillas; and most of the student influx into Sinn Féin has been due to the left-wing anti-establishment marketing of the party following the H-Block hunger-strike election gains.  Maybe their politics have moderated, but this process would need to go a lot further before we could have dealings with them.

Mr Barrett is very dismissive of the SDLP.  I too would criticise the SDLP's adoption of a socialist masthead, and its fruitless association with the British Labour Party and the European socialist parties at Strasbourg.  But it is wrong to dismiss the party which commands the vote of so many nationalists in Northern Ireland at local government and assembly levels.  Until Sinn Féin seriously alters its policies on socio-moral issues - especially on abortion - the SDLP must be preferred by nationalist pro-lifers.

In  regard to Mr Barrett's view on the European Union and further European integration, I have one observation.  I am a Eurosceptic; I have opposed every step toward European integration since the Single European Act of 1987 (I was far too young to vote against joining the Common Market in 1972).  But in spite of all Europe's difficulties, I would not anticipate a European analogue of the American Civil War as he does.

On constitutional matters,  I would not share Mr Barrett's admiration for America's Revolution and Constitution.  The Irish Constitution of 1937 in fact substantially follows Anglo-American democracy, with concessions to the French revolutionary tradition, to Catholic and secular schools of natural law and even with Fascism (the title An Taoiseach and the vocational compostion of Seanad Éireann) and with Communism (look very carefully at Article 43, on private property rights).

The one serious fault I would find in Bunreacht na hÉireannn is the lack of any meaningful separation of powers.  But this is the result of a strong party whip system - an accidental result of our constitution rather than something directly envisaged in it.

To return to the original point of this review: we just have to live with the fact that written constitutions are subject to creative interpretations in court.  This has even manifested itself in civil law jurisdictions.  To give a recent example, the German Supreme Court found crucifixes in Bavarian schools, hospitals and other public buildings to be repugnant to the German Constitution.  The Bavarian people successfully resisted this.

The chapter on the Church I found to be the most unhelpful, as it is very vague about the crisis in Western Catholicism and it proposes no concrete solutions whatsoever.  Mr Barrett also uses terminology such as "traditionalism" and "traditional Catholicism" without defining them.  There are many conflicting ideas about what these terms mean.

The Barrett book is part soap-box oration, part undergraduate monologue proposing solutions to the world's problems over coffee.  I have some advice for the Justin Barrett PR team: never allow your client use photographs of himself with open mouth, midstream in a stirring rally.  It looks like he's ranting.  If the media want to label Mr Barrett as Ireland's answer to Vladimir Zhiranovsky, it is inadvisable to hand them an invitation to do so.

Secondly, do not mention the Gaelic language or the inability of the populace to speak it, if the fada does not appear once in the book, and Irish words are almost uniformly spelt incorrectly.  And do not assume that either the Irish people or the media are stupid.  It tends to provoke a negative reaction.

The National Way Forward is published by the Guild Press, Longford.  194pp.  €7.55

The Brandsma Review, Issue 62, September-October 2002  

Art for Anti-clericalism's Sake

ART FOR ANTI-CLERICALISM'S SAKE

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

THE DAY Napoleon escaped from Elba, the headline in Le Monde read "Renegade Leaves Elba".  When he arrived in France, the headline ran "Napoleon Lands at Cannes".  And when he approached the capital, the headline was "His Imperial Majesty to enter Paris".  With this exercise in Realpolitik, the editor exercised the standard of objectivity we expect from today's print and electronic media.

I remember reading Mgr Michael Nolan's thesis some time ago in the Irish Catholic that people do not read newspaper's to inform themselves but to reinforce their prejudices.  He gave an illustration of this some years previously when several respectable news outlets repeating the old canard that St Thomas Aquinas said woman was merely a defective male.  Mgr Nolan is an expert on Aristotelian biology and it did not take him long to correct this.  He could quote the Angelic Doctor's own refutation of the charge, but found it very difficult to find a publisher.  Not even the Dominican Doctrine and Life would take it.  So he continued until the Daily Telegraph carried it.  Then he found another problem.  Clergy were unwilling to purchase the Daily Telegraph because of its anti-Irish bias but seemed to have no problem buying the Irish Times in spite of that paper's well-documented attitudes towards Catholicism.

Obscure painter

You think I'm joking?  Sometimes I wonder am I too harsh on the grey denizens of D'Olier St.  But just when I think it may be safe to look once again at the newspaper rack, they give me something which reaffirms my original position.  And on November 2, 2002, this came in the arts supplement.  So how could the discovery of a painting by an unknown 19th century Irish artist in Edinburgh, and the publication of a collection of verse by a forgotten Irish poet of the same century, illustrate the anti-Catholic vitriol I attribute to Ireland's most influential newspaper?

Aloysius O'Kelly was an obscure painter who would have remained obscure but for the fact his Mass in a Connemara Cabin showed up in an Edinburgh drawing room this summer.  This is a picture of a young priest giving the final blessing at a station Mass in a Connemara cabin and it is quite attractive.  The table is laid for Mass with the altar cards, candlesticks, crucifix, missal and chalice.  The priest's white vestments are depicted with detail; even the maniple can be seen on his left wrist.  And the Spartan furnishings of the cabin - basic, but maintained neatly and not without some pride.  The congregation are devout in their demeanour.  One pious old woman is nearly prostrate.  There is a solemn dignity about these tenant farmers and farm labourers and their families.

Three Redemptorists

Of course D'Olier St has to interpret this for us.  They did so by providing a commentary by Dr Niamh O'Sullivan who teaches art history at the National College of Art and Design.  Dr O'Sullivan allows three Redemptorist priests in Edinburgh do most of the talking.  One, Father Richard Reid (a young priest), sees a prefiguration of the Second Vatican Council - an emphasis on the Eucharist and the sanctification of daily life.  I wonder is ecclesiastical history taught so badly that a young priest would attribute this to Vatican II? Has he no knowledge of eucharistic piety stretching back to apostolic times in both East and West?  Has he not heard the maxim of the English recusants: "It is the Mass that matters"?  And in regard to labour and its sanctifying nature, any study of devotion to St Joseph, promoted by Pope Leo XIII, for example (who was Pope when this painting was exhibited in 1883) would fill in many gaps in Fr Reid's theological education.

Dr O'Sullivan gives more column space to the more subversive Father Hamish Swanston, Professor Emeritus of Theology at Kent University.  Father Swanston sees anticlericalism in the picture.  The laity are oppressed.  Maybe they were, but by whom?  By the clergy or by the largely Protestant ascendancy (unmentioned in this article)?  And if by the latter, the second question is who provided leadership to the oppressed Irish labourers?  The clergy or the Fenians?  It is that last question that makes the painting interesting.  Aloysius O'Kelly's bother James was a member of Parliament in Parnell's party and also a leading Fenian.  So, if there is a hint of anticlericalism in the picture, it should be very obvious it had its origin in Fenian bitterness.

Following the debacle surrounding the Fenian raid on Chester castle in 1867, Mgr David Moriarty, Bishop of Kerry, famously announced: "Hell is not hot enough nor eternity long enough to punish those who have led these young men astray."   The Fenians for their part held they took their religion from Rome and their politics from hell.  It is true that the painting reflects Ireland at the time of the Land War
Outmoded aspirations
Dr O'Sullivan draws a parallel between the founding of the Land League and the apparition at Knock in 1879.  No authentic Marian apparition takes place in an historical vacuum.  To give other examples: the Rue de Bac apparitions which gave the Church the Miraculous Medal took place within weeks of the overthrowing of the Most Christian King, Charles X of France and Navarre, in 1830; Pontmain in Brittany occurred at the height of the Franco-Prussian War in 1871; and Fatima happened as the First World War was in its third year.  The timing of the apparition at Knock in 1879 summoned the country's attention to the efficacy of the Mass and the Communion of Saints when more immediate solutions to Ireland's problems were considered - solutions which could lead to more problems.  To see oppression in this particular painting is no reflection on the Irish Church in the 1880s, but rather the outmoded aspirations of a class of theologian either stuck in the 1960s or narrowly focused on some contemporary Latin American experiences.

The painting was discovered in Edinburgh's Cowgate district, a notorious Irish slum area in the 19th Century.  James Connolly was born here in 1868.  But for all the misery, it was here that the Edinburgh soccer club, Hibernians, had its origin, just as Glasgow Celtic emerged from the Gorbals.

If this were not enough, the arts editor of the Irish Times also ran a review of Selected Poems of James Henry.  James Henry (1798-1876) abandoned his career in medicine on receiving an inheritance in 1846 and chose to wander around Italy instead.  On foot.  So it is hardly surprising his wife died in 1849.  The reviewer applauds Dr Henry as a fearless free thinker.  Yet anyone reading the review would see the poet-surgeon in fact failed to grow out of his adolescence and was most at home with the irresponsibility of an undergraduate.  The reviewer doesn't point out that the Church at which most of the bile in Dr Henry's work is directed is most likely the Established Church of the time - the Church of Ireland.  The reviewer describes Dr Henry as the scourge of humbug.  I wonder?  Some of the absurdities in his work were themselves humbug.  A colleague of mine once told me his father advised him not to be a socialist unless he could afford it.  Dr Henry appears to me to be in a category something like this.  He could afford to versify his whims - and no one really cared until the poems were reissued recently.  And the Irish Times deigned to draw them to our attention.

It is quite typical that the Irish Times should try to re-interpret 19th Century Irish art, literature and history through the spectacles with which it views the turn-of-the millennium period we are now enjoying.  One asks oneself: how far is D'Olier St prepared to take its anticlericalism?

The Brandsma Review, Issue 63, November-December 2002

A Brief History of Irish Monasticism

A BRIEF HISTORY OF IRISH MONASTICISM

by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

ST PATRICK was trained as a monk in Gaul.  Christian Gaul was under the influence of the old Greek colonies in south-eastern France and the monasticism of Gaul was of a similar character to the monasticism of Egypt - in the spirit of St Anthony.  The popularity of St Anthony is seen in the copies of St Athanasius' Life of St Anthony in the monastic libraries and more concretely in his image on many high crosses.

St Patrick was particularly influenced by his Gaulish monastic exemplar - St Martin of Tours.  Sulpicius' Life of St Martin was also widely available in Irish monasteries.  The Irish monastic communities followed the spirituality and practice of desert monasticism.  This was ascetic and altogether different from the monasticism that would develop on the continent under the Rule of St Benedict.  Benedictine monasticism paralleled the cenobitic  monasticim of Cappadocia influenced by St Basil.

Egyptian monasticism tended to be eremitic; this phenomenon, beloved of the Irish, was later common in Orthodox Russia.  The great Irish monasteries began as hermitagesw.  Anchorites such as St Enda attracted huge followings and thus laid the foundations of influential monasteries - St Kevin's in Glendalough was a good example of this.

When St Colmcille - whether voluntarily or otherwise - went to Iona in 563, he set a very important precedent in the development of the Irish church.  Ever after, Irish monks would seek to preach the Gospel overseas.

Very soon afterwards, Irish monks left their mark all over the continent.  St Columbanus was particularly influential in France and Italy, and his disciple St Gall established a monastery in a canton that still bears his name in Switzerland.  St Fiachra became particularly associated with Paris taxi-drivers.  All over the German-speaking world, the phenomenon of the Schottenklöster or "Scottish monastery" is indicative no of the Scots, but of the Irish.  Scotus was Latin for Gael.  There is a district in Vienna called Schottentor which is indicative of this Irish invasion.  Irish monks went as far east as Kiev and perhaps Novgorod.  St Brendan the Navigator may well have reached Newfoundland.

In time, the Irish monasteries in Europe adopted the Benedictine rule, but continued to be Irish in character until the Reformation.  The Schottenklöster were known for the asceticism of their monks; St Macarius was the prior of the Schottenkloster in Würzburg in the 1100s and he was said to have changed wine into water.  Würzburg is at the heart of the Franconian wine producing region along the Main.
Strict asceticism
Irish monasteries, as remarkable for their distinctive craftsmanship and scholarship as for their asceticism, fell into disarray due to the political instability of the following centuries.  The Viking raids maid a well-publicised impact; but many monasteries suffered at the hands of Irish nobles.

A reform movement was already in place at this time.  In around 800, the Céle Dé (Slaves of God) were established in Tallaght, Co Dublin, principally by the anchorite St Óengus.  The Céle Dé, also known as Culdees and currently fêted among New Agers, were an incredibly strict monastic movement, analogous to orders which developed later.  Their concept of stabilitas loci was very literal and they lived on a very meagre vegetarian diet - they seem to have anticipated the Carthusians.

The movement spread rapidly and soon had foundations all over Ireland - some more questionable than others.  The ninth century king-bishop of Munster and Cashel, Feilimid mac Crimthaind, was a Céle Dé.  Feilimid was both very able and politically astute.  He set about claiming the high kingship and nearly succeeded until he was killed in battle against the Uí Néill in 847.  During Feilimid's reign, the cause of reform had a momentum unlike at any other period.  Not many abbots would risk taking on his wrath at the time.
Malachy and Bernard
The political upheaval that began after the Battle of Clontarf in 1014 was damaging to the Church in Ireland.  Clontarf was no great victory; when Brian Boru died, the notion of a country under a single high king was established, but it was at least another century before a given dynasty established a claim to the high kingship.

In the late 11th century, the Irish Church faced another threat as the Archbishops of Canterbury began claiming jurisdiction over Ireland.  A movement of Irish Churchmen  saw it was important to for Irishmen to reform the Church here before others would come to reform it.  The star of this movement was St Malachy of Armagh - and the most significant element was the relationship of St Malachy to the most influential churchman of the day - St Bernard of Clairvaux.  The relics of Ss Malachy and Bernard are kept together before the high altar in the monastery of Clairvaux - and it is said they cannot be separated.

St Malachy introduced the Cistercians and the Augustinian canons regular into Ireland, and other orders followed.  When the Cistercian Pope Blessed Eugenius III was in exile, he asked St Bernard for advice and St Bernard told him to model his life on St Malachy.   Blessed Eugenius perhaps made the most significant contribution to the Irish Church in its whole history in 1152, when he sent John Cardinal Paparo as his legate to the Synod of Kells.

The embryonic Irish hierarchy erectic dioceses and petitioned for pallia for Armagh and Cashel.  This was not what Blessed Eugenius granted.  Cardinal Paparo delivered not two, but four pallia to Ireland - recognising Dublin and Tuam as metropolitian sees in addition to Armagh and Cashel.
English Pope's role
It is a tragedy of Irish history that there was rivalry between the Cistercians and Benedictines.  The more ascetic Cistercians held the upper hand in Ireland as they do today.  Blessed Eugenius had difficulties with King Stephen of England who retained the throne after a civil war against the Empress Matilda.  Eugenius was succeeded by the English Benedictine Adrian IV who had no sympathy for Cistercians and a better relationship with Matilda's son Henry II (who was later excommunicated for the murder of St Thomas Beckett).  Adrian issued the Bull Laudabiliter to Henry granting him Ireland as a papal fief, on the condition he would reform the Church.

So, within the space of a few years, a Cistercian pope saw the Irish church as being in such a good condition that it deserved four metropolitans, rather than just the two it had requested; and then a Benedictine pope came to the conclusion that the only hope for the Irish church was to entrust its reformation to a foreign monarch who happened to be a fellow countryman of his!

However, there is no doubt that the post-Norman invasion Irish Church maintained its vigour and continued to journey far afield.  To mention two examples, the tutor of the young St Thomas Aquinas was a teacher called Petrus de Hiberniae (Peter of Ireland).  One imagines he did a good job.  And when the Franciscans sent a mission to China in the mid-13th century, among the friars was Jacobus de Hiberniae (James of Ireland).  The Mongol dynasty was quite amenable to external ideas, including Christianity; and an archdiocese was erected in Beijing.  The Mongols were overthrown by the more inward looking Ming dynasty around the time the Black Death wreaked havoc with the Western Church.  And thus a tremendous opportunity was lost.
The Great Schism
In the later Middle Ages, the Irish Church suffered the decadence that was the lot of the Western Church after the Black Death.  Religious communities were particularly affected - and devastated.  The Great Schism of the West happened soon aftertwards.  It is well worth noting that two canonised saints of the Dominican Order, St Vincent Ferrer and St Catherine of Siena disagreed as to which purported Pope was legitimate.  Every order had at least two claimant superiors-general, based in Avignon and Rome.  And after the schism, there was still much disagreement as to the balance of power between a Council and a Pope.

The fifteenth century saw three of the mendicant orders - the Augustinians, Dominicans and Franciscans - develop reform movements within themselves.  These observantine congregations went back to their original rule, constitutions, spirituality and purposes, and also depended directly on the superior general rather than a local provincial who might have had political biases injurious to the interest of the order.  The observantine Augustinians particularly established themselves in the west of Ireland and principally among the Irish-speaking population.  This one bright spark offered a hope to the church which was standing on the brink of chaos.
Disaster on disaster
One immediate consequence of Henry VIII's schism was the suppression of religious houses in Ireland simply to gratify the avarice of the king's henchmen.  Some houses lasted as late as the reign of James I, but excepting a respite during Mary I's reign, the so-called Reformation led to one disaster after another for Ireland, culminating in the Penal Laws which lasted into the 19th century.

However, attempts were made to run religious houses in Ireland during penal times.  My favourite story relates to the presence of incognito Dominican nuns in Drogheda in the 17th century.  The local sheriff called to the house to discuss rumours of "Popish nuns" living there.  The prioress, an aristocratic Irishwoman, received him in her finest gown and put on all her airs and graces, dispelling the suggestion with the truthful statement: "Sir, the women in this house are no more Popish nuns than I am."
All over Europe
All this time, Irish religious houses were established all over the continent, many to parallel the Irish colleges there.  To this day, there is still an Irish Dominican convent in Lisbon and until the First World War there was an Irish Benedictine convent in Ypres (now Kylemore Abbey).  There were Irish religious houses in Paris, Louvain and Salamanca, all now tragically closed.  At one stage, there was an Irish college in Prague, associated with Charles University.

There were several other centres throughout the Catholic world which also provided Catholic gentlemen with education for vocations in the world.  A relative of Daniel O'Connell once said their clothes, their wine, their education and their religious were all contraband.  O'Connell and his brother were students at Douay at the time of the French Revolution and witnessed the bloodshed first hand - and the anti-religious nature of the revolution.  The Napoleonic era marked much upheaval for the church in Europe, so the relaxation of the penal laws afforded the Irish on the continent an opportunity to come home.

The 19th century was marked not only by the re-establishment of older religious orders in Ireland, or those founded on the continent in the interim, but by the foundation of new religious orders specifically for Irish needs: Blessed Ignatius Rice's Christian Brothers and Presentation Brothers; Nano Nagle's Presentation Sisters; Mother Catherine McCauley's Sisters of Mercy; and Mother Mary Aikenhead's Sisters of Charity.  As Cardinal Cullen dominated the Irish church in the mid-nineteenth century, convents and monasteries dotted the country.

Once again the Irish took to the missions, building up the Church throughout the English-speaking world, prior to moving into more difficult territories.  Three endeavours arose from Maynooth  alone in the early 20th century.  Following the failure of the Maynooth Mission to India, the Maynooth Mission to China and the Maynooth Mission to Africa became the Society of St Columban and the Society of St Patrick.
A sudden drought
Religious life continued to expand in Ireland until the late 20th century, when it suddenly slowed down and went into reverse.  Religious houses closed.  Religious were no longer visible.  Religious spokesmen and women sent out mixed messages in a confused age.  The source of religious vocations suddenly dried up where only a short time ago they had been plentiful.

This is not altogether new in the Irish church.  Religious life in Ireland had many dark and bleak periods.  These coincided with a general decline in the health of the Church.  When the Church recovered, religious life was strong - but such a strengthening was evident in the fervour of the religious; the pride in which they wore their distinctive habits, practiced the ascetic life, proclaimed the teaching of the Church  in and out of season, and stuck to the original intention of their founders.

The world is not without such religious houses - more in France than anywhere else.  So when are we going to look once again to continental Europe for guidance?

The Brandsma Review, Issue 65, March-April 2003