On this Shrove Tuesday, I received an e-mail that moved me to the quick. It was not an insult in my regard, or a “dressing-down” for uttering blasphemy against the sacrosanct ordinariate-god and its tedious orthodoxy. It was rather a cri de coeur from one of the finest and strongest priests I have come across in recent times. I read words like – I am a broken man.
At first, my reaction was that men who cause other men’s hearts to break should be brought to justice and made to hear “For war crimes and crimes against humanity, death by hanging“. But, vengeance is not the answer, whether the “criminals” are Roman Catholic clergy, or our own whether they are on the train of illusions or continuing to live in the cloud cuckoo land of “Anglican sedevacantism”.
We have been living in cones of silence ever since that meeting in Portsmouth, finding ourselves in the midst of a mysterious conspiracy, but a conspiracy that went far beyond human cunning. The powers of the darkness of this world disguise themselves as angels of light, yet keep resistance down through secrecy, contradiction and confusion. Always suspect the situation in which no one is allowed to ask questions.
The comments of these last few days begin to reveal some clarity, though one that still oscillates back and forth with each wave of the sea. Some of the flotsam and jetsam of the TAC shipwreck tries to get aboard the Ordinariate, to be told that passenger tickets are dearer than what they can afford. The alternative is a pirate ship where anarchy, not law, reigns. Another alternative is swimming in the sea, giving up and allowing oneself to be drowned or taking a chance in a frail shallop or the lifeboat of the captain who drove his ship onto the rocks. The outlook for many of us is bleak, and no one can afford to be smug.
My seafaring analogies always have their limits, and we are left with the reality that many of us no longer belong anywhere. We face our own failures and that of those who at some time assumed spiritual responsibility for the cure of our souls. Maybe, I sound maudlin and bitter about these events, coupled with some of the old experiences I have described. I have not been raped by disgusting pervert priests, but I have been confronted with the difference between the priestly vocation as it is and the priestly vocation of my ideals (which were not exactly of my invention). My experience in the Church was always driving square pegs into round holes, always failing. I would even go as far as saying that the only church in which I found some measure of sanity and stability was so faulty that it and those responsible for it failed as I had failed in the “true Church”.
Failure is the word that will surely go with our ashes tomorrow and the words Remember, O man, that thou art dust and to dust thou shalt return. We are broken men, as the Miserere reminds us The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit: a broken and contrite heart wilt he not despise. A piece of writing to which I often return is Oscar Wilde’s De profundis, the scathing letter so full of pathos he wrote from Reading Gaol to Lord Alfred Douglas. We all have our ghosts in one form or another.
Lent is likened to a battle, a true spiritual combat. The battlefield is our own soul. We read the many heroic sayings of Winston Churchill as he prepared to declare war against Germany in 1939. We think of things like “Good, so you have enemies. You must be doing something right!” The generations of my grandparents (very few of those are still alive these days!) and my parents as children remember that war, and how it was won by grit and determination, by people getting together and being determined never to give up.
Resilience is something that enables us to be knocked down and come back stronger than ever. For us all, there is a way forward and an alternative to being in the house of the living dead or what I term as the Church’s Death Row, that place of despair where one-time Catholic priests who blew their vocation are taunted for their failure. We have to have the ability to change our course and the trim of our sails. Haul in the mainsheet and feel the boat heeling to lee, and life begins again.
This will be the means by which God’s forgiveness can be found and accepted. This blog nears the end of its working life as Deborah prepares to be received with her parish community into the Archdiocese of Ottawa. I have myself been through a long process of discernment, and the vision becomes clear – both by having better eyes to see with and the fog dissipating enough to make the air more transparent. As the sun in its orb will be taking over as this blog remains as a historical archive of a turned page.
Resilience seems to be the ultimate art of living. At the centre of resilience is faith in ourselves, yet also a greater belief in God. Transcendence is possible by going beyond ourselves, our pain and sorrow, knowing that the evil is only temporary. One way to regain that mastery over ourselves is to begin to understand the events. I can’t help you because you will only shoot me down – you must discover it for yourself. When you do, you will have arrived at maturity and adulthood – and then you will rebuild. It is easier to be a victim and wallow in the morass of our misfortunes, but those who are profiting by the failure of others are now having to face their own failures.
Psychologists begin to discover that emotional scars are not an invariably valid phenomenon. We have the power to get over anything. I still have fearful moments when driving and see a car drawing up to its stop at the end of a side road too quickly. On one occasion, nearly twenty years ago, the car in the side road didn’t stop, and the van I was driving hit it in the side. In the exact circumstances, no amount of anticipation could have prevented it. The driver got away with a broken arm and shock, I with even less, just a couple of bruises and slight cuts. I was more concerned about someone who could have easily been killed! I will never forget the child in the back of the car screaming. The emergency services arrived quickly and the car was cut open with hydraulic scissors and the driver was deftly taken out of the wrecked car on a wooden board as a precaution against neck and head traumas. Road accidents are traumatic and the effects are lasting, but time cures everything.
We all have the capacity for pulling ourselves together. Adversity challenges us to react and turn it into strength. It is easy to allow ourselves to think that Lent teaches us to blame ourselves for everything. We are now having to learn to maintain our independence and ability to think outside the box, and draw boundaries between ourselves and our TAC bishops. We cultivate our intuition and ability to ask questions and give the answers that our hearts give us. It is not easy to be honest with ourselves. We know the answer, and we have to act on it. If we can think outside the box, we have initiative and know how to tackle the problems and elements that cause cognitive dissonance.
I think some of us are going to be proud as survivors, whether we continue as Christians in a church, or whether we have a complete turn-out at home and get rid of the destructive rubbish as Dawkins would call it. Unlike many Christians, I respect an atheist who can assume the consequences of his conviction, for it must be bleak. But, beware – a belief in afterlife and “spirituality” is not true atheism. Whichever way we decide, the only way is up – if we are not going to go down – and going down is never far enough down…
This Lent is going to be tough for many of us. We know the answers already, as we knew them in November 2009 when we first read Anglicanorum coetibus, or in October 2007 when three of our bishops went to Rome, one of them a Roman Catholic priest in an irregular canonical situation. We delayed the consequences, but the bailiff is now at the door.
There are two essential rules for getting from our Ash Wednesday to the glory of the Resurrection:
- If we are having to abandon one ship, our survival will depend on finding another. We can either afford the exorbitant price of a cruise ticket on the expensive and exclusive liner, take our chance with the pirates, or make our way in a boat to an island so that we can build a ship. It would be easier to do one of these things as a group and in relationship and friendship, but the important thing is to be outside the box and think for ourselves.
- Even if it is à chacun sa merde, we are here to care about others and have pride in doing so, to carry heads high and always be ready to extend the helping hand. We learn to solve problems and teach others how to solve problems without wanting some kind of control. Don’t just unlock the door, but give them the key.
I wish you all a good Lent, that each of you may find God’s forgiveness, and more so, that you each find the way through what you already know.