Southern Ontario Church History

I'm writing a historical commentary on Southern Ontario for my Dad's charter flight service, and I'm frustrated because all the cool history I find out about, I'm not allowed to include, because it's controversial and people won't want to hear it.

I learned about how Toronto was called 'little Belfast' and how the Orange Order (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orange_Order) had massive control of the politics of the city, and that every Mayor of Toronto was an Orangeman until the 1950s. This didn't go well with the huge Irish Catholic population, and the two had mini-wars.

I also learned out - totally by accident - about a man that reminded me of myself.



Sir Allan Napier MacNab, who was Prime Minister of Upper Canada in the 1850s (think Cardinal Newman, re-establishment of Catholic Hierarchy in England, and Anglo-Catholicism rising to popularity). Anyway, he was raised Anglican, but had a deathbed conversion to Roman Catholicism. His parish priest (Anglican) was so angry that he showed up in the dying man's room when the Catholic bishop of Hamilton had left the house, and claimed he had made MacNab reconvert to Anglicanism. People just couldn't believe he would go Roman.

When all the Church of England dignataries showed up for the funeral they were horrified to see that the Roman Catholic clergy were already there performing the ceremony. They say that as his family, the Bishop, and the priests walked one way together (mind you, a very small group), the Protestant politicians and clerics and the vast majority of the mourners went the other way, refusing to even attend a Catholic funeral.

One historian wrote: as his relatives fought over his possessions, the English and Roman churches fought over his body and soul.

Definately reminds me of me.

Sir Allan Napier MacNab, pray for me, another convert who has from time to time wavered from the efforts of Anglican clerics.

Canadian Church History

Yesterday was Canada Day, in commemoration of our Dominion founded on July 1, 1867. I wanted to post something, but I couldn't think of anything.

Today I decided to read some Canadian Church History that I found quite interesting. It is from a book called "The sword of Saint Paul : a history of the Diocese of Saskatoon, 1933-1983" by Duncan F. Robertson (http://www.ourroots.ca/e/page.aspx?id=1027450).

I was reading about Western Canadian Catholicism and thinking about how Roman Catholic Metis (Native tribe that was genetically of half-French, half-Indian) lived in the wilds and the forests, and still practiced their faith. As someone who can rarely find confession, etc, this interested me, and as most know, my primary devotion is the Rosary.

So it was interesting when I read about Bishop Albert Pascal O.M.I, and his mission work with these people on the frontier. In 1876 he wrote of their practices:

"Several among them faithfully recite twice the beads every Sunday, as well as on on Fridays and days of fast and abstinence. When away from the priest and buried in the solitude of the woods, they gather up all their religious pictures, with which they decorate a tee pee, which for the nonce is transformed into a chapel. There they assemble to pray, and sing hymns in their language."

It makes me feel connected to the Canadian tradition of praying the rosary, that has gone back hundreds of years even in our relatively new state, and it makes me again wish I had a vocation to priesthood as I think of how those Metis Catholics had hymns to sing, thanks to the Missionary Jesuits who translated them into the vernacular. In any case, I hope to be one of those proud laymen, faithfully praying the rosary my whole life. If I can do that, I will have carried on the tradition.

May God advance his Church in our country, and may God save the Queen.

Death, Sparrows, Tooth Decay, and The Jesuits

I've heard this story like 5 times in the last month and apparently read it last year in Medieval British history but had forgotten it. In A.D. 627, King Edwin was trying to decide whether to become a Christian or not, and so he conducted a little council wherein he asked all his advisors whether he should or not.

"Another of the king's chief men, approving of his words and exhortations, presently added: "The present life of man, O king, seems to me, in comparison of that time which is unknown to us, like to the swift flight of a sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper in winter, with your commanders and ministers, and a good fire in the midst, whilst the storms of rain and snow prevail abroad; the sparrow, I say, flying in at one door, and immediately out at another, whilst he. is within, is safe from the wintry storm; but after a short space of fair weather, he immediately vanishes out of your sight, into the dark winter from which he had emerged. So this life of man appears for a short space, but of what went before, or what is to follow, we are utterly ignorant. If, therefore, this new doctrine contains something more certain, it seems justly to deserve to be followed." The other elders and king's councillors, by Divine inspiration, spoke to the same effect." - St. Bede the Venerable (Ecclesiastical History Bk. II)

I was thinking today that I feel (I usually never trust feelings) fairly certain that I want to enter the priesthood and that I want to meet with our vocations director tomorrow. I thought about my life, dying without children or a wife, and of a hundred years from now when no one will remember me. The only fear I had - honestly - was that I wouldn't be able to become a Jesuit. I'm planning -as of now- on becoming a religious priest (hopefuly SJ), but I thought about how fleeting life is, and how my only real passion is for Christ's kingdom (as terrible a sinner as I am, this is still my deep longing). If I can serve it as a layman, that's great, but I really feel that I want to give up everything. The reading today was from Philipians 3, and it was one of my favourite passages, St. Paul writes that he counts all as rubbish compared to knowing Christ, and that he counts it all as loss that he may be found in Him. That's what I thought: I only want to be found in Christ.

As I brushed my teeth tonight I noticed that a tooth my dentist pointed out 6 months ago looks pretty bad, and I figured it might be decaying. I wasn't worried. I thought 'i'm going to be a priest, who cares what I look like. Perhaps it'll be a form of penance and detachment from vanity.'. Like I said, I'm no saint, but I was actually finding joy in bad things.

All of this connects to a sermon I heard from an English Monsignor today on EWTN who only had one hand. He said that he wasn't sad about it, and that as far as he knew, having two hands doesn't make most people happy anyway. He had a chance to help manage a bank, but left it all and became a missionary priest. He eventually worked with Pope John Paul II. He talked about God bringing good out of every evil and grace out of every sin. It gave me alot of hope to hear someone speak with such faith. The more I think about it, we're all just sparrows in the great hall of life. Some of us don't have hands, some of us have rotten teeth, some of us have rotten souls. But only the last ailment is truly mortal. You can survive anything with the grace of Christ.

I don't know if tomorrow I'll resign myself to complaining or commit grave sins, but in this present moment, I'm grateful to God for the peaceful acceptance of his providence. There are days I am overwhelmed with love for God, and this is one of them. To him be Glory forever.

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.