A portentous golden anniversary

Recently I watched, for the first time ever, the classic and oft-mocked film The Exorcist. Three things had struck me by the end of the movie. First, and least important, was how superb is its cinematography. At times one could almost believe it was made but a year or two ago, rather than 50 years ago, in 1973. Half a century ago…gosh.

The second, and more important, thing struck me at the very beginning. The first words heard in the film are of what sounds like the Islamic call to prayer, with the leitmotif Muslim cry of Allahu akbar, in the deserts of Iraq. It seems no mere coincidence to me, certainly as seen from the vantage point of 2023, that a serious film about the activity of evil, and in particular demonic possession, should begin with the sounds of Islam in a troubled Muslim nation. The film does not labour the point, so I shall.

There are many agents of evil in the world, most of them unrecognised and so unnamed. Perhaps these are the most dangerous of all. After all, Antichrist is accepted as adopting a pleasant, even humanitarian guise; a wolf in sheep’s—or shepherd’s?—clothing. Sometimes evil can be seen pretty clearly, and when it is seen, the context can lend it a certain, if tenuous, ambiguity which it then exploits. Vladimir Putin is an example, that ardent KGB apparatchik turned fervent waver of Russian Orthodox liturgical candles. That some nations, or more so their leaders, can cheer for Vlad the Invader beggars belief. Vlad’s courting of Iran, and in recent days the terrorists of Hamas, tells one all one needs to know. The cry will come that there is a bigger context in which Vlad must be seen—such as the alleged geopolitical anxiety of Russia contra mundum. That Russia has been consistently contra mundum since 1917, even after the fall of its marxist regime, is also part of the context. Yet, the call for context is not always a call for clarity; sometimes it is a ploy to increase the obscurity surrounding the deeper agenda.

It strains human mental and moral resources not to see in Islam a force for evil, especially in the last half century. Islamists have exported terror on a scale almost unprecedented in history. One might argue, with good reason, that Hitler’s Nazi regime was a greater force for terror. Perhaps indeed. Note that Hitler was able to count Islam among his anti-Jewish allies, with Muslim SS detachments and the vigorous and open support of the grand mufti of Jerusalem. These Muslims were untermensch to Hitler, but they were useful untermensch in that they actively shared the fundamental plank of Nazi ideology: hatred of the Jews.

The Hamas atrocities in Israel on 7 October bring the nature and place of Islam into even sharper relief. We hear loud voices in the West, in our midst and on our streets, that say Hamas was defending the oppressed Palestinians, and so their atrocities were justified, and can even be glorified. The moral depravity of such sentiments aside, it is notable that Mahmoud Abbas, head of the Palestinian Authority, has declared that Hamas does not represent Palestinians. Of course not; they represent Iran. Gaining power in Gaza by force in 2007, Hamas has used Gaza as a base and a shield in its pursuit of the destruction of Israel. Hamas—which means Islamic Resistance—is opposed by many Muslim states, but more from geopolitical concerns that moral or religious ones.

But Israel has been nasty to Palestinians! they cry. No doubt the Israelis have not always acted with absolute justice, often to the detriment of their own cause. Yet, a country that has had to fight for its existence, an existence mandated by the Western powers, since its very first day, subject to sudden invasions and repeated terror attacks, such a country will be vigorous in its self-defence. Overwhelmingly outnumbered by its surrounding enemies, it has prevailed thus far. That existential insecurity is also part of the context, as is the Holocaust. As is, too, the failure of other Islamic Arab nations to take in Gazan refugees. That is telling. They will use the Palestinians as a geopolitical tool, but they do not want any hint of Hamas in their own countries. Even Qatar, which hosts the multi-millionaire head of Hamas, has not taken in Palestinian refugees. It is not about Palestinians, it is about destroying Israel.

When we hear western idiots claiming to be anti-zionist rather than anti-Jewish, yet who are committing acts of violence and intimidation against Jewish citizens of their own countries, we see the lie unveiled. There is something about the Jewish people that sparks hatred and triggers evil. Perhaps it is their industry, their success, their discipline and commitment to taking responsibility for their own welfare, that trigger the evil of envy. In 75 years they have created in Israel a modern, affluent, and democratic state, without the vast natural resources of their Islamic Arab neighbours. What have these nations done in the same time period? Backward according to almost all accepted Western measures, their people remain in relative poverty, in states that are either non-democratic or only nominally so. Often these nations hate each other nearly as much as they hate Jewish Israel. Their people, seeing Israel’s success, settle on accepting the propaganda that demonizes Israel and lets their own corrupt and grasping leaders off the hook. After all, how brief was the Arab Spring! But hatred of the Jews is abiding, and very convenient.

One can only laugh, a pitying laugh to be fair, when one sees western idiots marching in support of Hamas and its propaganda. Laugh? Because so many of them are the sort of wokester fools who would be imprisoned or executed for blasphemy by the people they are cheering on. That LGBTQ+ activists are prominent among them beggars belief. Strict Islam wants them dead. Indeed, at a recent protest in London, a fool waving the LGBTQ+ flag was chased away by the Muslim protesters. That did not make the news, of course. But it made it to Twitter.

One has no desire to demonise all Muslims in any sort of exercise in simplistic generalisation. They are people too, with human rights. So many of them are decent citizens in their own, and increasingly our, countries. Yet, one cannot accept the facile slogan that Christians, Jews, and Muslims worship the same God. We do not. The allah of Islam is unrecognisable in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; allah is unrecognisable in the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Old Testament is not accepted in Islam as a cohesive body of divinely-revealed scripture as it is in Judaism and Christianity. Islam quotes bits of the Old Testament to suit its purposes, but its sees the Torah, and what we call the Old Testament, as a comprehensive corruption of the original revelation that they claim to be preserved in Islam. This people of the Book charade blinds us to reality.

So evil and its Prince prosper in our world. Which brings me to the the third striking thing about The Exorcist: its depiction of priests. Frail and human, and prone to doubt and scepticism, yet the priests of The Exorcist (Jesuits, can you believe it!) are also men of faith-in-action, virile in the deeper sense of the world, not concerned with fripperies or fads, but able to perceive and engage the unseen forces of evil in our world, even in affluent Georgetown. Yes, it took the main priest protagonist a while to get there, but in him we see the victory of faith over secular orthodoxy. The movie presented us with priests we can identify with in their humanity, and admire in their faith. That is quite an achievement seen from 2023.

The word is that the making of The Exorcist was plagued with accidents and misfortunes, and strange happenings. Some of the production crew were killed in its making. It is almost as if someone did not want the movie to be made.

All the above seems a world away from the rural concerns of remote Woop Woop Shire. In some sense it is, of course. Yet, like the poor, evil is always with us. Even in the hamlet of Black Stump. Let us pray for priests, and bishops, who can confront it rather than abet it…even out here in the Never Never.

What will I say to the provincial when he calls in a synodal rage after reading this? The poor man still dreams of a mitre, I fear. Who’s going to break the news to him? Not me. It’s hot enough out here as it is.

Time for a tinnie. Cheers!

Father Enda Matether OVS
Pastor, St Nusquam’s
Black Stump, Woop Woop

Not invited to the Synod on Synodality

No member of the Ordo Verbi Soluti—the Order of the Word Unfettered—was invited to participate in the lead up to the Synod on Synodality. In the Parrhesian Fathers, as we are commonly known in our little patch of ecclesiastical periphery, we have taken it on the chin. Life’s too short, after all. Armageddon cannot be far off, metaphorically that is, though it’s a bit of a trip geographically. Luckily you can see it on the internet, though it is called Tel Megiddo now, so as not to scare the horses: Tel Megiddo.

Isn’t technology great?

One mixed blessing of technological progress is the ability to see so much more of history on our screens. Online archives for newspapers and magazines, Facebook history pages, Twitter-X history feeds, and the like allow us to see and hear the past with relative ease. One notable feature is the difference in the Catholic media. Not the obvious differences in doctrinal and ecclesiastical assumptions; I mean the mood.

In the 1950s and early 1960s the mood was one of confidence. The Church was growing, Catholics were increasingly gaining leadership roles in society, and Catholic culture—especially its literary aspect—was buoyant. Contrary to what you might gather from activists today, mid-century there was already a well-established lay-voice choir: Chesterton, Belloc, Carol Robinson, Peter Maurin, Dorothy Day, and the inimitable Frank and Maisie Ward, and Catholic novelists such as Evelyn Waugh, Flannery O’Connor, Grahame Green, Muriel Spark, JF Powers, to name a few. While not wholly uncritical, the prevailing Catholic mood was one of an unabashed profession of Catholic faith which assumed that Catholicism in its undiminished integrity had a rightful and natural place in wider society.

Moreover, the ecclesiastical temper was optimistic. The 1960s, shaped by the global traumas of the 1940s and the remarkable recovery of the 1950s, was one of change, change that was breath-taking in its pace, scope, and ambition. Even those who felt alarm at some of the changes in the air were nevertheless fundamentally open to the inevitability of change, if not always attracted to it. The pace was so dizzying that no one seemed to have much time to think about it. It was groovy, the sun was shining in, the age of Aquarius was dawning. Yet few could see, and fewer articulate it in time, that a world in frenetic flux was shaping the Church, rather than the Church guiding the world along a safer, surer path to the future, and to the End.

Read the Catholic media of today and the mood is strikingly different. The Church is in headlong demographic decline in the West. The pendulum of development has swung so far towards so-called progress that it has slipped over into regress, as the great heresies of the early Church re-emerge in modern, secularly-approved garb. Catholic self-criticism has been debased into Maoist self-accusation which verges on fetishist self-flagellation. There is no Catholic teaching that cannot be publicly impugned with impunity, to be met only with episcopal and papal silence, and even approval. To profess the coherent Catholic moral code is labelled as rigidity, as is any attachment, however discerning and nuanced, to the organic liturgical heritage of Western Catholicism over two millennia. Journals are filled with articles and letters that express complaint, recrimination, denigration, bitterness, and often—to be honest—despair. The last is my category.

Both “progressives” and “conservatives” tend to locate the cause of our modern malaise in Vatican II, surely the worst-timed council in Church history. For progressives, “the Council” was not a finished product, but the merely the catalyst for an ongoing project of root-and-branch change that is given the all too apt label “reform.” Re-forming the Church has become the goal, not renewing it; deconstructing it to reconstruct it according to a secular ideological agenda that has undermined Catholic self-confidence and driven Catholics to a cravenly apologetic attitude towards her most beautiful attributes and truths, even faith itself. Dealing with a few—real enough—faults has become the justification for open-ended, untempered, ungrounded reform. The few among them who still bother to make token reference to “the Council” do so to lament that it has not been implemented, that its alleged programme of permanent change is being stymied, and so the Church is suffering, because it is not keeping up with the times. Conforming to liberal secular society has become the focus of their energy, not evangelisation in the name of Christ, which is now caricatured, even at the highest levels, as proselytism.

For the “conservatives,” “the Council” has barely been implemented at all, but rather hijacked. The more moderate ones try to make the best of what remains after reform, revealing an innocent naïveté in interpreting “the Council” conventionally, by its concrete decrees rather than its novel and nebulous “spirit.” The more radical, who prefer to be called “traditionalists,” blame “the Council,” rejecting most if not all changes made in its name, looking back to the halcyon days before “the Council.” But which days in particular? The 1950s are out, as its liturgy was already infected by change, which though relatively minor in scale were nevertheless shaped by the arch-fiend and liturgical bête-noire, the ironically-named Annibale Bugnini. Indeed, many now look to pre-Pius X days for a “pure” liturgy used by a Church still unscarred by the cancer of Modernism. For them tradition is too often reduced, sometimes unwittingly, to the period between Trent and Pius IX. This ahistorical conservatism is all grist to the progressive moaning-mill.

The essential problem is that both the radical progressive and the radical traditionalist are failing to engage properly with the now, and seek affirmation in what is not.The progressive looks to a Church that has not yet come to be because of the intransigence of those who will not allow the spirit of “the Council” to do its work of building a new, world-friendly, de-capitalised, de-articled “church” under the influence of a similarly de-articled “Spirit.” The traditionalist looks back to a time, often chosen according to personal taste, when the Church was untainted by post-Modernist change, the good old days long before “the Council” was even a twinkle in the papal eye, a Church stolen from them by “the Council.” Neither can live contentedly in the present.

As one of those caught in the ecclesiastical no non-gender-specific person’s land, I am not particularly happy either! My label is hard to define, but most likely many in the muddled middle would find they would share it if I could articulate it. In this middle ground are those who can see that “the Council” was called not for nothing, but to address a slowly emerging crisis in the Church, a crisis beginning to be identified not just by theologians but, more significantly, by pastors. Practice of the faith post-war was high, but proportionally it was falling, especially seen in relation to a fast-growing nominal Catholic population. This was clear by the 1950s to those who were paying attention, but the will to address it was slow in forming, and by the time “the Council” was called and then, three years later, convened it was too late. Inevitably, within the council of the fathers there was little recognition of, let alone ability to cope with, what Benedict XVI termed the “council of the media,” and the few who did recognise it used it skillfully to serve their own ends.

Fundamentally, “the Council” is the problem. For the progressive, invoking it trumps any other source of teaching authority in the Church. In practical terms, for them the Church began in 1962-1965; nothing before it matters unless it can be employed somehow to justify their cause. For the traditionalist conservative, nothing after “the Council” is legitimate unless it suits their taste. Like all caricatures, these of the two ecclesiastical extremes are not wholly fair but expose a truth that is real enough. “The Council” itself is now a caricature, though its shape changes according to the mind of those who employ it. Thus one must speak of “the Council” rather than the council.

We like to blame people these days. If something goes wrong, for whatever reason, someone’s head must roll, someone must resign, someone must be cancelled. Purging another absolves us from having to do anything ourselves. Of course, sometimes there is a legitimate target for blame, at least partial blame. Dare I say it, blame could be laid with the college of bishops. The mitred ones failed to take control of implementing the council they themselves comprised. They failed to make use of the now officially-approved novelty of episcopal collegiality, despite the constant profession of it ever since. Bishops’ conferences have subverted the authority of the individual bishop in his diocese, because the committee is now more marketable than individual authority and responsibility. It also provides better cover. Moreover, collegiality has become truly Orwellian for, even as collegiality is invoked officially, a centralising papacy more than ever dictates what a bishop may do in his own diocese. Collegiality was usually set in relief against the papal curia rather than the pope himself. Indeed, the curia has been tamed, even subverted, and is now barely more than a cipher that offers some administrative utility. (In much the same way, lay involvement in the running of the Church has been degraded into the rise of a burgeoning and self-justifying ecclesiocracy, whose members must be paid market salaries to do work of often questionable value…but I digress.)

However, collegiality was meant to be about the relationship between the papacy itself and the other bishops. Now that individual diocesan bishops have lost what effective independence they ever had by being gathered into a college—the members of which are not really bishops but bishops’ conferences—so the easier it has been for an autocratic papacy to centralise power in itself and exercise more control over the collegially-corralled episcopacy than it ever has before.

The poor bishops. There are exceptions, of course, but not many. Their mitres have become dunces’ caps, their croziers cattle prods. Desperate to keep up with a world and a Church in increasingly rapid flux, they fall ever further behind the times. Shielded from the faithful by diocesan bureaucracies, on which they have made themselves dependent, they have lost touch with what few faithful remain in their churches. Desperate to be relevant in society, they are now barely noticed by society. Is there a sadder, vainer thing than a bishop’s statement on a social or political issue? They have become ecclesiocrats par excellence, not pastors of a flock. They serve institutions rather than the congregation of the faithful, let alone their faith.

Now they are seeing the slow death of episcopal collegiality as it is supplanted by another novelty, universal synodality, open even to those who reject the Catholic faith. How they bend the knee to the very idol that seeks to kill them off! Desperate to keep their jobs, they are fostering that which seeks to get rid of their “job” itself. They could find real relevance again if they would only preach the Gospel rather than peddle the neutered ecclesiastical dialect of corporate-speak. But, as Sir Humphrey Appleby would say, that would be courageous, and courage tends to be detrimental to career security.

If you want to hear the gospel preached, somewhat simplistically at times but with real vigour and verve, and unapologetically, try TikTok. It is astounding the number of young Christians there, and increasingly Catholics among them, who offer an encouraging word from scripture to their followers, Bible in hand, fresh in face and spirit, and without any air of the geeky or freaky, addressing the concerns of their peers which they know first-hand. It is a strange day when I find my faltering faith bolstered more by a youth with his or her raw but earnest faith, than a successor to the apostles, who now offers more sophistry than Christianity. Mind you, no bishop has been here for years…

Time for a cuppa…

Father Enda Matether OVS
Pastor, St Nusquam’s
Black Stump, Woop Woop