Wednesday, 25 February 2015

Father Standun's Obsession

FATHER STANDÚN'S OBSESSION
by JOHN HENEGHAN

SOBAL SAOL. By Pádraig Standún.  Cló Iar-Chonnachta.  224pp.  €12.00

IN this novel we see more of the constant occupation of Pádraig Standún with sexual mores.  This time we are dealing with a separated couple in the Gaeltacht.  Máirtín Mac Cormaic, a writer for a soap opera, is constantly under pressure to find new themes for Béal an Chuain; if he fails he will lose his job.  Justine, his separated wife also features.  The only thing they agree on is their love for their son Cian.

The contemporary life of the Gaeltacht is contrasted with the lifestyle in times gone by, now on its last legs.  We see further evidence of Standún's obsession with the sexual theme in the description of both Máirtín - who has a one-night stand with Sinéad after a night's binge drinking - and Justine's weekend trip to Cork with James McGill.  To say the least this recurring theme is not edifying.  It is ironic that it should come from a celibate male priest who should uphold the teaching of the Church.

The pub is used as a social instrument to give a glimpse into the lives of the characters.  These are not developed, however, and function solely to perpetuate the main theme of the novel.  Máirtín manages to pick up some themes for the soap opera by buying a senile old man some drink.

The teaching of the Church is challenged, with Máirtín's mother Bríd committing suicide because of her fear of ending up in a nursing home.  So the current lifestyle in the Gaeltacht is contrasted with the old-fashioned values now only left among some old people - and evern this ebbs away with Bríd's suicide

The whole work is another variation of the writer's usual tune.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 84, May-June 2006.

Rev Pádraig Standún is a priest in good standing of the Archdiocese of Tuam.  He has written several novels in the Irish language about life in the Connemara Gaeltacht.

Sunday, 22 February 2015

An Insular Look at Irish Catholicism

AN INSULAR LOOK AT IRISH CATHOLICISM
by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS

IRISH AND CATHOLIC? Towards an understanding of identity.  Edited by Louise Fuller, John Littleton and Éamon Maher.  The Columba Press, Dublin, 2006.  256pp

A CAMEL could be a horse designed by a committee.  One would think that 16 academics might do better on the topic of Irish Catholic identity.

The phrase "Irish Catholic" rolls off the tongue easily, but neither word follows from the other.  As the universal faith, Catholicism does not mix with any particular ethnicity.  It is the very contrary of what Judaism is to the Jews or the Armenian Apostolic Church is to Armenians.  Nevertheless, Catholicism has left its mark on a great many nations, regions and peoples globally - of which Ireland is one.

This is why I find this book puzzling.  Why is France the only other model of a Catholic nation/culture with which Ireland is compared? It is probably true that most Irish Catholics, if asked to name a number of Catholic countries, would mention France, Spain, Portugal, Italy or Poland.  Though Ireland has much in common with each of these, they are not the best comparisons.  Four have long histories as sovereign Catholic states, whose Catholic communities have had to learn to live with major anti-Catholic influence since the 19th century.  The fifth was so big that none of its occupiers tried to impose another faith upon it and its 45 years of communist persecution did not come near what its neighbours suffered.
Netherlands and Quebec
The better models are less obvious.  For example, the Netherlands.  The Dutch Church was a minority that withstood centuries of persecution, to be one of the most religious societies in Europe, producing more missionaries in absolute terms than any other country.  The Dutch Church collapsed in the 1960s.  Outside Europe, Quebec was a similar example - an oasis of Catholicism in North America until the "Quiet Revolution" of the 1960s.  This saw Quebec go from being one of the most Catholic cultures on earth to being one of the most secular.

Where is the contrast?  Irish Catholicism, like Dutch and Quebecois Catholicism, is a case of a persecuted people who collectively and successfully resist that persecution.  But the resistance is based on a strong community effort - and when people collectively fail, that is it.  It will be interesting, maybe terrifying, to see how Lithuania copes with western secularisation.  Further removed are Bavaria and Slovakia, where Catholicism was a strong badge of regional identity in the face of oppression (Prussia and the Czech lands respectively), but this was not sustained for such a long time in either case.

That is personal opinion - the contributors don't deal in such analysis.  So their response to the particular crisis in Irish Catholicism, or the relationship between Ireland or the Irish and Catholicism is made in isolation.  Ireland is not even properly defined.  It appears to me that most contributors use it to mean the territory of the independent Irish state, ignoring the Catholics in the North, for whom the identity as Irish Catholics is a lot more important than south of the border.
Mother and Child Scheme
In respect of the Catholics in the South, there are many question marks.  I would ask the next commentator who refers to the Mother and Child Scheme two questions:
  • Why was this piece of legislation passed without substantial amendment in the administration immediately following the First Inter-party Government? (Yes, I mean the Fianna Fáil administration led by Éamon de Valera).
  • Why do commentators, particularly liberal churchmen, never mention that Noel Browne had a theological advisor - Rev. Professor P. Francis Cremin?
I could add more. For example, one of the reasons de Valera lost power in 1948 was the manner in which Fianna Fáil handled the striking national teachers.  This group normally voted Fianna Fáil.  In the course of the dispute, the government ignored entreaties by John Charles McQuaid.

Similarly, the 1937 Bunreacht an hÉireann is presented as an unequivocally Catholic document.  It is nothing of the sort.  Essentially it is the application of Anglo-American constitutional tradition to Ireland.  It does contain some very theological-sounding language in its human rights clauses.  But there are secular schools of natural law which use similar language.  The American Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights, all of which had a huge influence on de Valera's republican movement, often used the same sort of language.

Landmark Supreme Court cases draw on American precedents in constitutional cases - not on Apostolic Signatura judgements.  Right now, the United States Supreme Court, with its Catholic majority, probably takes more from Thomism and the Irish Supreme Court probably looks more to the Enlightenment.  The Constitution in each country is what their respective Supreme Court says it is.  I officer this as a criticism of the view that the constitution is ipso facto a Catholic document.
Example to other countries
The Constitution is a deocument in which we ought to take a great deal of pride.  It is the oldest constitution in use in any state in which the human rights articles are part of the original document.  In 1949, Adenauer looked to the Irish Constitution as one of the models for the German Federal Constitution.  At roughly the same time, Nehru used it as an important model for the Constitution of India.  Somehow, I think this needs to be pointed out.

If the contributors do not see the constitution in context, neither do they see other facets of Irish and/or Catholic life in context.  More than a few contributors refer to the problems of sexual and physical abuse by priests and religious.  I deny neither that this is a major problem nor that the response of dioceses and religious congregations has been inadequate to say the least.

However, if one were to do a vox pop on the streets of major Irish cities, I would bet that many people perceive paedophilia as exclusively a problem of Catholic clergy and religious.  In fact the rate of offence is pretty consistent across all religious denominations, and offence by clergy (including rabbis, imams, bonzes, etc) is but a small percentage of the total.  This is something opinion makers should point out.

I suppose the most fatuous remark in the book comes from Dr Colum Kenny:
It is my belief that there is little evidence that the media in general was ever hostile to the Catholic Church in Ireland.  (p.98)
I cannot accept this - though I would agree with Dr Kenny's thesis that the media cannot be primarily blamed for the current crisis in the Catholic Church in Ireland.  When Mrs Margaret Heckler was stepping down as United States ambassador to Ireland in January 1989, she singled out the manner in which the Irish media dealt with the Church for special mention.  Others have repeated this: Damien Kiberd, former editor of The Sunday Business Post; and Dr Desmond Fennell come to mind.  Father Brian McKevitt OP has concerned himself with this problem for more than 20 years.

There were two Opinion pieces in The Irish Times about the Drogheda Mass [ie. Mass on Easter Sunday 2006 in the Augustinian Church in Drogheda, where the principal celebrant, Rev Iggy O'Donovan OSA invited the local Anglican rector to concelebrate with him and his two confreres] by another contributor to this book, Patsy McGarry - one after the Mass itself and then again after the apology [Fathers Iggy O'Donovan, Noel Hession and Richard Good were required by the Augustinian provincial to apologise to Cardinal Brady, in whose diocese the Mass took place, for their public breach of canon law in doing so].  This sort of partisan approach is seen across the whole media.  Views of people such as David Quinn are the exception which proves the rule.  Mr McGarry's own contribution essentially makes the point that the Catholic Church was nice and liberal until the Famine, but that then it became overly prudish and controlling.
Political correctness
What academics do to appear sophisticated is too predictable.  So when Eugene O'Brien deals with Father Ted and deconstuction, he seems to derive pleasure in repeating a four-letter word.  The comedy was discussed in this Review by Joe McCarroll, who pointed out it is was little more than a rehash of the drunken Irishman and the idiotic Irishman, but that they put on clerical collars to make it more politically correct.

There is nothing new about satirising clergy.  Even Dermot Morgan had an earlier clerical persona, Father Brian Trendy.  Some of us remember the insufferable Leave it to Mrs O'Brien, in which the central character was a priest's housekeeper.  The parish priest there was played by Pat Daly, who himself featured in Hall's Pictorial Weekly as Canon Romulus O'Dowd.

Long before the advent of electronic media, priests featured in jokes and folktales.  Not all were complimentary and some even had teeth.  But the extent to which these academics would rely on folklorists and/or anthropologists to demonstrate the evolution of Father Ted.... I would have thought deconstructionists would have an interest in this.

In relation to literary criticism, what the contributors are determined to see in a collection of second-rate writers, I am not sure.  It is true that good points are made by three of the analysed writers - John Broderick is noted as having hated the new Mass; Brian Moore wrote a novel, Catholics, about a monastery off the south-west coast continuing to use the old Mass, but the novel is a vehicle to express the disappointment of Ireland's Massgoers at the liturgical changes.  This would be a very interesting point to examine: in particular why, in spite of so much discontent, no formal traditional movement emerged in Ireland until much later.

Patsy McGarry makes a very fair point, which needs development, that the changes shook the older generations' faith.  They continued to practice out of cultural habit, but the younger people detected a shock.  I believe this was true, and I am waiting for some analysis of the monies spent on re-ordering of churches in the face of widespread objection - in spite of the fact that the Second Vatican Council provided no mandate for such changes.  I think this, rather than Humanae Vitae, ate into religious practice.  It is true that reaction to Humanae Vitae kicked in later, but not immediately.

This brings me to a third author in the survey - Dermot Bolger.  There is no doubt that Dermot Bolger is a liberal who broadly accepts the sexual revolution as a good thing.  But he also loves to shock.  In his earlier writings, he attacked Catholic icons.  Now, he uses religion to make his secular audiences uncomfortable.  But he does raise questions about the present direction of Irish society.  The only other contributor who raises this question is Father Patrick Claffey SVD.  Father Claffey gives a reminiscence of his formative years in Co Roscommon prior to joining the Divine Word Missionaries and leaving Ireland, then his experience on return.  Father Claffey gives no nostalgic account of the past, but does give a critical view of the present.
Missed opportunities
This book is filled with missed opportunities.  It is easy, and even popular, to dismiss the past.  It is a lot more important to criticise the present.  The contributors fail to do this.  They fail to address the question of Catholic identity in general and the world-wide crisis of identity  among Latin-rite Catholics.  This is because they approach Irish Catholicism in isolation.

Though it is true that the concept of Irish identity which was popular between independence and the outbreak of the Northern Ireland conflict was very narrow and even flawed, the contributors fail to criticise the absence of a common view of Irish identity ever since, or how patriotism devolved into following the triumph (or otherwise) of international sports contestants.

Northern Ireland need not exist for all the attention it gets in this volume.  And if you thought the book was directed at an educated readership, Father John Littleton gives a translation of all the Latin terms he quotes in his article.

One of the contributors adapts a line from Frank McGuinness's play Innocence, about the artist Caravaggio: "I have looked on God and found him lacking".  To paraphrase both, I read the book...and found it lacking.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 84, May-June 2006.

I have added notes in square brackets to explain the significance of the Drogheda Mass referred to above which was current when this article appeared.

Wednesday, 4 February 2015

Oliver Plunkett: A Saint Betrayed by his own

OLIVER PLUNKETT: A SAINT BETRAYED BY HIS OWN
by PEADAR LAIGHLÉIS
In proprio venit et sui eum non receperunt-St John, 1, 11

SEÁN Ó RIORDÁIN'S poem Fill Arís contains one memorable line: Dún do intinn ar a tharla ó bhualadh Chath Cionn tSáile (Close your mind to what happened since the defeat at Kinsale).  The Battle of Kinsale in 1602 marks the beginning of the end of the Gaelic Order in Ireland.  Gaeldom, at least in Ireland, was necessarily Catholic.  When Gregory XIII introduced the calendar reform in 1582, this was accepted throughout Catholic Europe, including the courts of the O'Neill and the O'Donnell.  So as Mountjoy's troops fought the Battle of Kinsale in December 1601 under the old style which England would continue to use until 1752, the more advanced Gaelic Irish and their Spanish allies engaged them in January 1602.  The fact that the Julian date of 1601 is impressed upon our minds indicates the extent of the Protestant victory.

In 1607, the Ulster princes left Gaelic Ireland leaderless.  From then on, most initiative would fall to the Sean Gall or Old English, the descendant of the Anglo- and Cambro-Norman who maintained Catholicism and as a result were only now coming to terms with the Irish identity.  These Hiberno-Normans were adept at the law and parliamentary procedure and used both quite well until they found themselves outwitted by Lord Deputy Thomas Wentworth.  However, Wentworth was deposed in 1641 due to a temporary coincidence between Irish Catholic and Presbyterian interest which suited an increasingly assertive English Parliament for the time being.  After Wentworth, things got worse.
Confederation of Kilkenny
The Gaels could not bear it and proceeded with the 1641 Rebellion, unfortunately missing their objective of taking Dublin Castle.  This was followed in 1642 by the inaugural meeting of the Confederate Catholics of Ireland, better known as the Confederation of Kilkenny.  The Catholic Confederacy was the most incredible gathering of Irish clergy and laity in modern Irish history.  It sat as a parliament, raised an army and even chartered a university in Limerick.  One could dream about the possibilities, but Gael and Norman clashed with each other and no one took the bigger picture of the civil wars raging in England and Scotland into account.  When Charles I was executed in 1649, the Confederacy was doomed.

In 1646, the original papal envoy  Father Scarampi left Ireland to make way for the incoming Nuncio, Archbishop Rinuccini.  This was shortly after the great victory of Owen Roe O'Neill at Benburb and Ireland was full of hope.  Scarampi took a number of young men with him to study for the priesthood in Rome.  One of these was Oliver Plunkett.

Oliver Plunkett was born in Meath in 1625.  He came from an old Norman family and many of his relatives were titled nobility, both Catholic and Protestant in persuasion. One of the 19th century Anglican Archbishops of Dublin was a relative, as was George Noble Count Plunkett, the first Foreign Minister and his better known son, the executed rebel Commandant Joseph Mary Plunkett. This was in the future.  The young man was tutored by his cousin, a Cistercian priest named Patrick Plunkett who held the title Abbot of St Mary's (Dublin) and who subsequently served a as Bishop of Clonmacnois and then Bishop of Meath.  At the age of 16, the student was judged to be ready to attend seminary in Rome.
Cromwellian Settlement
The Protestant ascendancy set up Trinity College in 1591 to provide for the education of young men of promise.  The Catholic recusants found the Counter-Reformation seminaries a lot more sympathetic and within a century, several Irish colleges sprung up on the continent.  Oliver Plunkett went to the Irish College in Rome, studying in the Roman Jesuit College, in Propaganda College and in the Sapienza.  His ability was recognised, and he spent most of his early priesthood teaching theology in Propaganda, while holding the office of a consultant on Ireland to the Roman Curia.  Ireland was going  through one of the worse periods in her history.  Cromwell laid waste to the country in his brief military campaign and his generals continued this.  The Cromwellian Settlement, colloquially summarised in the phrase "to hell or to Connaught" saw Catholic ownership of the land fall from 60% to about 20%.  For all that, the settlement was not nearly  as thorough as the Ulster Plantation of 1609.

Cromwell died in 1658 and the Commonwealth fell in 1660, but the restoration of Charles II was not to signal the return to the status quo ante.  In the words of Jonathan Swift:
Those who cut off the father's head, forced the son to fly for his life, and overturned  the whole ancient frame of government...gained by their rebellion what the Catholics lost by their loyalty.
There was to be no significant alteration in Ireland to what it had been under the Commonwealth.

In 1669, Oliver Plunkett was appointed to the vacant primacy.  He returned to Ireland on March 17, 1670 following a clandestine consecration to the episcopacy in Ghent.  The firs duty he had in Ireland was pastoral and over the next four years, he confirmed nearly 50,000 people of all ages - some as old as 60, and often in the open air.  He turned to the topic of education.  At a time when the Protestant establishment was all-powerful and no Catholic order was more despised than the Society of Jesus, he succeeded in establishing a Jesuit college in Drogheda.  Drogheda, notwithstanding the Cromwellian slaughter on 11 September 1649, was the second largest city in Ireland at the time.  Within a few months the school had an enrollment of  150, forty of whom were sons of Protestant gentlemen.  The school lasted a few years until its closure and destruction.

Though it was over a century after the Council of Trent, intermittent persecution in Ireland delayed the effective implementation of the Council decrees.  Archbishop Plunkett found this problem when he came to Ireland and set about correcting it.  This was his undoing.  Laxity in clerical discipline was subject to exaggeration, but nevertheless the conduct of some Irish priests left a lot to be desired.  Secondly, there was an age-old dispute between regular and secular clergy which made church government difficult.  Finally, a dispute arose between Dublin and Armagh in relation to the primacy.
Guerrilla warfare
Disciplinary problems within the Church took place in the background of one grave pastoral problem.  Many of the dispossessed Irish gentry took to the continent to join any of several armies.  Some stayed at home and conducted a campaign of guerrilla warfare against the British administration and those who now occupied their lands.  These Rapparees or Tories varied considerably between those who acted from the highest patriotic motives to those who degenerated into simple highwaymen.  However, they uniformly made the lot of the common people worse and present the Irish hierarchy with a problem.

Synod after synod condemned them, but Oliver Plunkett negotiated with the Tories in an effort to resolve the impasse.  Many priests working in the Armagh Archdiocese denounced the Primate for colluding with the authorities while the Archbishop of Dublin, Peter Talbot accused him of drawing too close to the felons.  The Primate had considerable success with his talks - many Tories left the country to join continental armies - but when a notable Rapparee, Patrick Fleming was killed by government agents in 1677 while travelling under Oliver Plunkett's safe conduct, many criticisms were made.

Oliver Plunkett sough to implement the Council of Trent reforms in Ireland.  A century of intermittent religious persecution made this difficult.  A proportion of the clergy led scandalous lives and the Primate went far beyond his diocese.  The Vicar Apostolic of Derry, Terence O'Kelly, was a notable offender, and he successfully used the civil processes to frustrate any attempt to bring him to book through the Praemunire clause.  Here, Archbishop Plunkett used his political skills to outmaneuver the wily prelate. At the same time, several priests - diocesan and religious - were censured for grave deficiencies in their ministry and personal lives.  This made the Primate many enemies.

The relationship between the members of religious orders and the diocesan clergy had been very difficult from the days of St Patrick and this was something Oliver Plunkett did his best to address.  However, there was a dispute between the friars of the Franciscan and Dominican Orders.  The Franciscans argued the Dominicans should not be invited into the Armagh Archdiocese.  The Primate disagreed and extended the invitation, earning him the enmity of the very powerful Franciscan order.

The contemporary Archbishop of Dublin, Peter Talbot, came from a noble family associated with Malahide Castle (his brother, Richard, was later Duke of Tyrconnell and would serve as James II's viceroy).  Archbishop Talbot was aware of the growing importance of Dublin in Ireland and proposed that the Archbishop of Dublin should be primate.  Archbishop Plunkett answered with a tract defending Armagh's position.  Talbot responded to this and both tracts were published on the continent.  This was the beginning of a long-standing dispute between the two metropolitans.
The Popish Plot
If we focus on the internal politics of Irish Catholicism in the 1670s, we should not forget that the overall position of the Church in Ireland was precarious to say the least.  Just how delicate the situation was became apparent when Titus Oates hatched the infamous "Popish Plot".  Oates was a former Anglican minister with a history of trouble-making who had briefly studied in the English Jesuit colleges oin Valladolid and St Omer.  In 1678, he hurled wild allegations against Catholics in Britain and Ireland.  Nothing might have happened had not certain prominent anti-Catholics chosen to use this material.

The Popish Plot unleashed a new persecution against Catholics with saw Archbishops Plunkett and Talbot thrown into prison, with many others.  At this point the two were reconciled as Oliver Plunkett defied the guards to administer the last sacraments to Peter Talbot, as he died a martyr's death.

The Successor of St Patrick was to follow.  It was alleged that Oliver Plunkett had plotted to bring a French fleet into Carlingford Lough with an army of 15,000 men as part of the general conspiracy to overthrow Charles II.  A trial in Dundalk collapsed as a Protestant jury refused to convict the archbishop, so he was brought to London.
Clemency refused
There is one point which must be commented upon in Oliver Plunkett's trial.  Four of the prosecution witnesses were priests active in the Armagh archdiocese, two of whom were Franciscans.  It is a mystery how the Primate did not challenge his accusers, but long incarceration seriously damaged his health.  Following the trial and conviction, it was said he was already dead before he might have suffered from the more brutal elements of execution by hanging, drawing and quartering.

The action of priests against the Primate is a testament of how unwilling many Catholics were to accept the Tridentine reform, particularly priests.  There is a contemporary satire, Comhairle Commissarius na Cléire, which is believed to mock Oliver Plunkett and his work (and the author is believed to have been a priest).  Also there were many demands for clemency which Charles II refused to heed, one coming from the Earl of Essex who originally arrested him.  Charles told Essex he would have done more good by testifying at his trial.

Oliver Plunkett was executed on 11 July 1681 and was canonised by Blessed Paul VI on 10 December 1975.  His shrine at St Peter's Church, Drogheda, Co Louth attracts a steady stream of visitors.  His life and work continue to have revelance to our own day.

The Brandsma Review, Issue 86, September-October 2006