Glorious Defeat, Scotland, and Spiritual Combat

Today we were learning about one of my favourite 'recusants' (he technically wasn't, but he was still a resister and came from a traditionally Catholic family... sort of): Bonnie Prince Charlie (Charles Edward Stuart / Charles III uncrowned king of England, Scotland, Ireland, and France as the traditional title goes...).

He was the last hope for Jacobitism in Britain and if he would've had a successful takeover of London, he might've gotten France's support and been the Catholic king of the UK, bringing back the faith, and sending the Hanoverian Usurpers back to Hell/Germany where they could proceed to not learn English... anyway. Why was I telling this story again? RIGHT!

ok. So Charlie had a glorious victory at the battle of Prestonpans but lost at Culloden. I was thinking about his defeat and exile. Things went so well with him for a while, and he was doing great, but then his arrogance coupled with fear of the returning Hanoverian armies made him act foolishly. In the end he lost, ran, and eventually even temporarily converted to Anglicanism in an attempt to claim he could rule since he was Protestant (he eventually reverted to Catholicism when back in France). One character flaw lead to the next, and if he'd only known his limits and listened to his friends things would've gone differently.

The whole history of Scotland is this sad tale of fiery ideals and passions of the Highland Scots, eventually dwindling and joining the lowlanders in the Anglo-fied subservience and cynical pragmatism of Adam Smith and David Hume.

In my life, I see the dangers of the history of Scotland. I have these lofty ideals, and these plans to immediately rush to completely perfect myself in one day or over a short period of time. If I would only recognize my weakness and commit myself to slow progress, then perhaps I could have some victory. But sadly I feel much more like Bonnie Prince Charlie, I am unready for battles I allow myself to be caught in, and during my retreats from the enemy I endure such heavy losses that I end up without anything. I'm exiled from my own homeland and have fallen from my vocation. So hopefully from this Catholic brother of Old, his majesty Charles III, I can learn some lessons about Spiritual Combat and perhaps Jacobitism and Sanctification are closer than one would think.

Lessons:

1. Don't go it alone. Without the Catholic and even the Protestant Lords and Clan Leaders, the Bonnie Prince wouldn't have been able to even begin. So always stick with your friends and take their advice when they tell you you're acting foolishly.

2. Be content with whatever victories you can have. When Charlie had taken Edinburgh he still hadn't even got the support of all of Scotland, and he spread himself too thin in search of greater glory. Mastering oneself is a slow business, and should always be done -as St. Thomas tells us- by submitting the passions to reason. If we get ahead of ourselves, that's when bad things happen.

3. Glorious defeat. When the Jacobites retreated, the Hanoverians & the Winter destroyed them and thinned their ranks incredibly. They fled and hid until their towns and homes were burned by the English. Many were imprisoned and nearly starved to death, it was a total shame. When tempted don't gradually give in to weakness, don't even consider surrender as an option, but valiantly stand your ground until you are so overcome by concupiscence or the enemy that your defeat was at least glorious.

4. Don't lose the dream. After losing at Culloden and going into hiding, Bonnie Prince Charlie began having affairs and drinking heavily. When it seemed like he had no chance at all he even temporarily gave up his Religion (which was the heritage of his family, he was born in Rome for God's sake! and supported by the Pope). Everyone around him lost hope and Jacobitism died slowly. If he would've kept up the dream, perhaps he could've made it when the French tried to invade later. Always hope that even in defeat and exile from God's grace while in mortal sin, you will return again, and maybe -just maybe- one day your flag will wave high in highland winds once more.

Seeing Orange

For one of my British History classes, I have to lead a seminar on the "Glorious" Revolution of 1688. For those unfamiliar with British history: in 1688 James II a Catholic, tried to pass laws of Religious Toleration and had a male heir. This was enough for parliament to treasonously plan a Dutch invasion of England and a Coup D'Etat in which William of Orange, military leader of a Protestant league waging war against Louis XIV of France, could take the crown. Many Scottish and Irish Catholics died fighting for King James, but English historians call the event a "bloodless revolution" (as any student of England knows, Catholics and non-English folks don't 'count'). My professor is an oldschool Englishman who was at least nominally CofE from what I can tell, and characterized James II as a despot and absolutist. But I mean, who wouldn't call legislation for Freedom of Religion despotic? How mindlessly absolutist to act well within constitutional law to protect a persecuted minority. ...sarcasm...

Then I saw this video of Northern Irish politician Ian Paisley screaming at the Pope: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AoCU6Clpkxk It's weird how things change, because I was actually in a bible study with his grandson at bible school in England. I think we stopped being facebook friends when I converted to Catholicism. When we were at school both he (the grandson) and I, actually agreed that we had doubts about those who believed in infant baptism and the Trinity, could really be biblical Christians. Good old Evangelical Arianism and Anabaptism...

Then I found the Canadian Orange Lodge, which is like the KKK for anti-Catholic Anglos. The Strange thing is how I could see myself being in it if I hadn't gone Roman.

I feel like Joseph Pearce a bit, the famous Irish convert to Catholicism. It's always a weird thing to switch 180 degrees from your upbringing. But I find myself with the famous Catholic historian Lord Acton saying that communion with Rome, is more dear than life. It's strange that for us Anglo's, Catholicism is a political thing. For every other race, it's not a political matter if you become Catholic, but for the descendent or student of English History, conflicting loyalties to King and Church have been quite common.

Random Ramblings

Today we watched the majority of "The Madness of King George" and I thought it was an excellent film. Some interesting things I noted from it, were George III's love for clergymen, and his comment at one point he referenced "the Liturgy of our Lord and served at the Lord's table" and used the title "parson" which all seems to indicate to me the Reformed/Calvinistic nature of the CofE in those times.

As well, the Enlightenment influence could be seen in their comment 'you shouldn't speak about the nature of the deity sir', etc. The tiniest theological point, I seem to always notice.

Ian Holm plays one of the doctors in the film, and he has been one of my favourite actors for some time now. I feel like renting every movie he is in, as I've yet to find his work disappointing.

In Latin the other day we were reading the Cena Trimalchionis from the Satyricon and one of the characters kissed the table after speaking about witches and evil spirits. Balme the translator noted in the gloss that this was a Roman superstition which they believed to ward off evil spirits. I immediately thought of the priest/celebrant in the mass kissing the altar before the liturgy of the Eucharist. Our reasoning is that this is done because of the holy relic of the saint in the altar, but much like the invocation of patron gods/saints it seems to have a double meaning. I'm surprisingly untroubled, but it gives more ammunition to the Anglican apologetic that the Reformation was about removing superstition rather than upturning doctrine. hmmm, I wonder what else I shall discover whilst doing classics.

I feel weird about it and other Catholic practices like the signum crucis, as I was raised to utterly revile superstition, and it is difficult for me to see the need for a signing both before and after prayers, but as superstition does, I'm sure it will eventually become a habit. And it is a holy superstition if you will, a sacramental practice attested to by the fathers.

Yesterday evening I had a very difficult time discussing things with a guest I had over. Our philosophies were so divergent that it seemed difficult to even talk about meaningful things. She an agnostic who claimed 'evil is a point of view' and I a believing but sinful Romanist who argued for the absolute nature of values and the meaninglessness of statehood rather than the meaninglessness of justice (we were talking about war). In the style of Thomas I thought of starting from reason and building my argument, but I realized that our individualist subjectivism has ruined everything, reason has been destroyed. And I don't like it. Watching the Enlightenment attitudes of the characters in "The Madness of King George" I (think) I realized that I prefer Modernism to Existentialism/Pietism/Individualism, at least among the Rationalists there ranks Spinoza, Liepniz, Descartes, and Kant, all theists and most Christians.

Evelyn Waugh's Depiction of the Recusant Spirit

"There was nothing of the old dandy about him, nothing crusted, nothing crotchety. He was not at all what is called 'a character'. He was an innocent, affable old man who had somehow preserved his good humour - much more than that, a mysterious and tranquil joy - throughout a life which to all outward observation had been overloaded with misfortune. He had like many another been born in full sunlight and lived to see night fall. England was full of such Jobs who had been disappointed in their prospects. Mr Crouchback had lost his home. Partly in his father's hands, partly in his own, without extravagance or speculation, his inheritance had melted away. He had rather early lost his beloved wife and been left to a long widowhood. He had an ancient name which was now little regarded and threatened with extinction. Only God and Guy knew the massive and singular quality of Mr Crouchback's family pride. He kept it to himself. That passion, which is often so thorny a growth, bore nothing save roses for Mr Crouchback. He was quite without class consciousness because he saw the whole intricate social structure of his country divided neatly into two unequal and unmistakable parts. On one side stood the Crouchbacks and certain inconspicuous, anciently allied families; on the other side stood the rest of mankind, Box-Bender, the butcher, the Duke of Omnium (whose onetime wealth derived from monastic spoils), Lloyd George, Neville Chamberlain - all of a piece together. Mr Crouchback acknowledged no monarch since James II. It was not an entirely san conspectus but it engendered in his gentle breast two rare qualities, tolerance and humility. For nothing much, he assumed, could reasonably be expected from the commonality; it was remarkable how well some of them did behave on occassions; while, for himself, any virtue he had come from afar without deserving, and every small fault was grossly culpable in a man of his high tradition.

He had a further natural advantage over Guy; he was fortified by a memory which kept only the good things and rejected the ill. Despite his sorrows, he had a fair share of joys, and these never mourned the loss of Brome [his ancestral home]." - Evelyn Waugh "Men At Arms", The Sword of Honour Trilogy p. 31-32

It's funny because when I read this (it's actually just one part of an even bigger and better part of the story) I immediately was shocked as this is how I viewed English History as well. Whenever the history professor would talk about the Greatness of Churchill I would always think "the greatness of a family that betrayed their King, James II, to serve a Dutch heretic (William of Orange)".

I'm sure I got this view through the osmosis of the Catholic literary revival.

Earls of Effingham

The area I live in was named Beckett's Mill after a Quaker Miller, but was then renamed Effingham when the Earl of Effingham visited. I found out yesterday that the Earls of Effingham were part of the Howard Family, England's most famous recusants (Roman Catholics resisting Anglicanism). This makes me like my neighbourhood even more.