Elsewhere: Speaking of Jansenism

Jorgen Sonne’s 1866 Nuns walking in a cloister garden in Rome. He has, whether intentionally or not, given them the habit of Port-Royal-des-Champs. (Source)

I refer my readers to two articles that have recently appeared in the Notre Dame Church Life Journal. The first, which came out about a month ago, is an excellent piece by Dr. Shaun Blanchard showing that our polemical use of the term “Jansenism” is seriously mistaken. The second is an article I wrote, a church-historical study in which I both defend the Jansenists from various degrading misconceptions as well as point out some parallels between their situation and our own. I’m also very pleased that the Catholic Herald picked it up for Wednesday’s “Morning Catholic Must-Reads.”

This is not the first time I have tackled the issue, having previously pointed out the rhetorical and ecclesiastical-political resemblances between Pope Francis’s critics and the French Jansenists. I am more sure than ever of that similarity, and may yet elaborate it again should I deem it helpful for the present conversation. Regardless, I certainly will write more about Jansenist history and theology – watch this space.

I should add that I am particularly grateful to Dr. Blanchard for his kind aid in the preparation of my piece, and Dr. Artur Rosman for his editorial patience.

Unsolicited Thoughts on Recent Horrors

“Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened!” Florence Pugh as Dani in Midsommar. (Source)

I finally saw Midsommar.

Let me begin with the good. I liked it a lot more than Ari Aster’s first offering, Hereditary. The bright Scandinavian aesthetics and Pawel Pogorzelski‘s enchanting cinematography lent the film an undeniable visual appeal. The acting was also to be commended. Florence Pugh’s performance is a masterclass in theatrical distress.

That being said, the film was on the whole, yet another disappointment from Ari Aster. I cannot say the same about Robert Eggers’s The Lighthouse, which I saw with friends last week.

I think I can fairly compare these two horror directors working under the aegis of A24. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Eggers is better in every way that counts. Both have now produced folk horrors centered on the trauma of young women in claustrophobic wilderness. The Witch is more inventive, precisely because it is more traditional, than Midsommar. Or rather, it did what few films are willing to do in its approach to the past; take it on its own terms. Its originality lies in large part due to its embrace of the Puritan myths without judgment, and exposing the horrors we thought we left behind in the seventeenth century. Admittedly, Midsommar doesn’t have the burden (or the gift?) of history to work with. But one can’t help but feel that what we find here is just The Wicker Man gutted of its moral core and set slightly farther north. In fact, the ending is probably a double homage to both Wicker Man films.

Nicolas Cage in a bear skin suit. The Wicker Man (2006) – (Source)

While Midsommar is an improvement over the rather humdrum (if at times shocking and, admittedly, very well researched) Hereditary, it doesn’t push the boundaries of cinema in the way that The Lighthouse does. In The Lighthouse, we discover a radically different kind of film. Its irregular aspect ratio, its black-and-white cinematography, its baroquely salty dialect – these bewildering distinctions from the run-of-the-mill horror flick work together to construct a vision of a world totally unlike our own. And yet, The Lighthouse manages to provide a series of sights, sounds, and even smells so visceral that one feels entirely immersed in this other world.

Midsommar fails to do that. For all its blood-and-guts moments, for all its eros and trauma, one comes away from the experience feeling strangely detached. I couldn’t manage to care too much about what happens to these characters, some of whom are intensely annoying. Not so in The Lighthouse. One cares very, very deeply – or more correctly, you feel the confusion and desperation of the situation in your gut. You are on that island. It is happening to you.

Perhaps the greatest disappointment of Midsommar was its rather predictable plot twists (if I can even call them that). Anyone familiar with the genre will be able to see exactly what is coming, even if they can’t imagine all the precise details. Not so in The Lighthouse. While one can establish a direction of travel – particularly in the film’s first half – after a certain point, you become as disoriented as the film’s unhappy protagonists. Like its great antecedent, Moby Dick, The Lighthouse is full of strange allusions, haunting images, and intensely visceral shocks. It’s a tight, dark, and disturbing maze.

Beyond that, I have a complaint that is, perhaps, too subjective to warrant much value criticism. Midsommar failed to scare me. Not many horrors do, I have to confess. I liked Possum, even though it was more unnerving than actually scary. Two of my favorite horror films, The Shining and the original Wicker Man, don’t actually frighten me. Nor does The Witch. In their cases, I can overlook the lack of fear because of the strength of these movies has as a film. Midsommar wasn’t strong enough for me to forgive the lack of fear.

The Lighthouse however, climaxed with one of the most genuinely frightening scenes I have seen in any film for a very long time. Without saying too much, I will refer my readers to my essay on eldritch horror in the New England literary tradition. Eggers knows that tradition very, very well. The Lighthouse, like The Witch before it, is a superlative contribution to New England’s peculiar darkness. His final, terrifying scene in The Lighthouse is an echo of Pip’s experience in Chapter XCIII of Moby Dick. Eggers, and of many a chapter in Lovecraft.

Powerhouse performances, top-notch writing, historical faithfulness, invocation of the New England horror tradition, black humor, innovative cinematography, and genuine scares make The Lighthouse the best and most beautiful horror film of the year. (Source)

I’m a sucker for folk horror, as my readers may well recall. Midsommar does deserve a place in the folk horror canon. But The Witch and The Lighthouse are higher on that grisly totem pole. They are also better works of art.

Announcing a New Poetry Publication

A Neo-Gothic ruin. (Source)

I’m very pleased to announce that I have a poem coming out in the Emma Press’s new collection, The Emma Press Anthology of Contemporary Gothic Verse. From the press release:

The anthology was compiled from poems sourced in an open call for submissions launched towards the end of last year. 294 poets entered, of which 26 were chosen for the anthology. Editor Nisha Bhakoo says in her introduction to the book: “My hope for this anthology was to showcase poems that pointed to the uncanniness of our present time, giving traditional gothic tropes a compelling, contemporary flavour. I not only wanted the poems to hold up a mirror to our post-postmodern age, but also to challenge the norms and unwritten rules of it.”

Although I make no money from the sale, please consider buying a copy of the Anthology from the Press’s UK-based store. Small presses need as much support as we can give them, and the Emma Press has published some really great contemporary poetry. Pick up your copy today!

Elsewhere: The Anglo-Catholic Mormon

The Salt Lake City Temple (Source)

I must refer my readers to a particularly interesting blog. If you thought The Amish Catholic was an odd title, just try The Anglo-Catholic Mormon. Featuring poems by St. John Henry Newman, theological considerations of the Trinity, and arguments in favor of theology itself, The Anglo-Catholic Mormon is a unique offering in the Mormon blogosphere. It is also, as far as I know, the only blog uniting broadly Catholic and Mormon spiritual traditions.

The pairing is not so implausible as we might immediately think. There are a number of similarities between Roman Catholicism (if not Anglo-Catholicism) and the Mormon church. Both believe in a visible Church governed hierarchically. Both have a more expansive view of revelation than Protestants, including a form of magisterial authority invested in the visible head of the Church. They share some common moral teachings. And both Catholics and Mormons seem to be some of the most enthusiastic disciples of Dr. Margaret Barker, drawing upon her “Temple theology” to enrich and illuminate their respective traditions.

The anonymous author puts it this way:

At the surface, the two distinct faith traditions seem irreconcilable and perhaps they are.  However, it is this blog’s purpose to explore, not the tensions between the two traditions, but Mormonism from an Anglo-Catholic-inspired reading of Church History, theology, art, music, liturgy, et cetera.  This blog is written, mostly, by Latter-day Saints for a, mostly, Latter-day Saint audience. The Anglo-Catholic Mormon is a blog dedicated to the exploration of Latter-day Saint doctrine, theology, history, and culture from a Latter-day Saint perspective—albeit one influenced by Anglo-Catholic aesthetic, theological, musical, and liturgical sympathies. 

The Anglo-Catholic Mormon

Apparently – and this is news to me – the Mormon blogosphere is known as the “Bloggernacle.” The titular Anglo-Catholic Mormon has described his place within this phantastic landscape as such:

From this keep, paladins, mages, and scholars publish key theological tracts based upon the teachings of the (Restored Catholic) Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Their premise is that the ancient Christian Church, the universal or catholic church as established by Christ and led by the Prince of the Apostles, St Peter, is continued under the guidance of the current heir to the Throne of St Peter, in Salt Lake. Only by uncovering the mysteries of the past can they bring unity to the Mormon Bloggernacle.

The Anglo-Catholic Mormon

Catholics are likely to scoff at the claim that the See of St. Peter is truly located in Salt Lake City. Nevertheless, they ought not miss that unusual idea for what’s really interesting – namely, the fact that a Mormon is thinking (in public!) with these very Catholic categories.

It seems to me that this blog is engaging creatively with both Catholic and, as far as I can tell, Mormon teaching. The author ostensibly remains a Latter-Day Saint. I would of course urge him or her to convert to the Church of Rome – or at least seek Trinitarian baptism. Nevertheless, I am eager to see what he or she produces in the future.

To my readers: watch this space. I have no doubt that the author wishes to gain a Mormon rather than a specifically Catholic audience. Nevertheless, we Catholics (Roman and otherwise) should pay attention to what’s going on here. Perhaps we will see a Mormon Oxford Movement spring up out of these posts. And what will follow then?

Patreon: Mirrors – Part II

Who is it that Jonas sees on the swing? (Source)

Over at Patreon, I’ve published the second part of my weird story, “Mirrors.” Novelist Jonas Beckley is having a more and more unsettling time in his new lodgings.

Here’s an excerpt:

There was a strange smell in the staircase today. Heavy, piercing, wet, rotten. Familiar, somehow, though I couldn’t place it. I think it must have been connected with whatever that black substance was on the stairs leading up from my floor. When I went to tell Wilson about it, he was nowhere to be found.

“Mirrors,” Part II – By Rick Yoder

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Elsewhere: On the Rule of St. Benedict

I don’t usually like to write two “Elsewhere” posts in a row, but there’s a very good chapter talk on the Rule of St. Benedict over at Vultus Christi that is, I believe, worthy of my readers’ attention. The author points to the spiritual fullness of the Rule. St. Benedict gathers together the very best of the great spiritual traditions of the Church. Put another, more historically correct way, his Rule has served as the “wellspring” from which all manner of saints have drawn the waters of life.

St. Scholastica, 18th century, Wienerwald, Austria (Source)

Monasticism is the norm of the Christian life. It is the baptismal life as such, to which every other charism must be compared. Those who do not have a priestly or religious vocation are not exempt. Even those in the world must develop a “monasticism of the heart,” a certain enmity towards the Flesh and a love of God in the Mass. St. Benedict’s Rule, in its great flexibility and simplicity, is a very good guide to achieving that inward state, itself an ever more perfect conformity to Christ.

The whole chapter is worth reading, but here’s an excerpt that struck me:

If you were or are attracted to Carmel, to Saint Teresa and Saint John of the Cross, or to Saint Thérèse and her Little Way, know that nothing of their teaching is missing from the Rule of Saint Benedict: purification of the heart, ceaseless prayer, secret exchanges with the Word, the Divine Bridegroom, and participation by patience in the Passion of Christ.

If you were or are drawn to Saint Dominic, Saint Thomas Aquinas, and Saint Catherine of Siena, know that the Rule of Saint Benedict calls you to the joy of the Gospel, to the love of chastity, to the quest for Truth, to confidence in the mercy of God for sinners, and to the ceaseless prayer of the heart represented by the Holy Rosary.

If you were or are fascinated by the Little Poor Man of Assisi, the Seraphic Saint Francis, know that the Rule of Saint Benedict offers you complete disappropriation to the point of having neither your body nor your will at your own disposal; that the Twelfth Degree of Humility is configuration to the Crucified Jesus; and that the adorable Body of Christ, the Sacred Host, shows you the perfection of monastic holiness in silence, hiddenness, poverty, and humility.

If you were or are charmed by Saint Philip and the Oratory, know that the Rule of Saint Benedict calls you to good cheer, to gentlemanly courtesy, to an ever greater infusion of the charity of God, that is the Holy Ghost.

Vultus Christi
The Death of St. Benedict, Douai Abbey. Photo by Fr. Lawrence Lew OP (Source)

Any Catholic who wants a deeper spiritual life cannot neglect the monastic tradition. It brought forth all the others, and continues to enrich them. I have written in the past on the likeness between St. Philip and St. Benedict. Much more could be said for the monastic roots of each of the spiritual families listed above.

I can’t help but notice that one major stream of Latin Catholic spirituality is absent from this list: Ignatian spirituality. Perhaps this is because the Ignatian charism depends upon a subjective, individualistic, and pscyhologized spiritual experience rather than the objective, external, communitarian piety of liturgy that stands at the heart of St. Benedict’s Rule. This is not to say that Ignatian spirituality is necessarily worse or that it cannot produce saints. Nor is it to say that St. Ignatius could have produced his school without the preceding sixteen centuries of spiritual development. But the assumptions of Ignatian spirituality are so divorced from the monastic tradition as to constitute a sui generis chapter in the history of Latin Spirituality. St. Ignatius inaugurated a real break from the Western tradition of prayer and ascesis, a break that was, in fact, little more than an epiphenomenon of the advent of modernity in the prior century.

But these historical-theological considerations are secondary to a deeper admiration for the piece. May St. Benedict pray for all of us who would seek the Face of God.

Elsewhere: Courage, the Cardinal, and the Sex Abuse Crisis

When I converted, Timothy Dolan was widely seen as the face of a bright new future for the Catholic Church in America. My, have things changed… (Source)

Ron Belgau has a very good summary of yet another scandal erupting in the American Church – this time, in the Archdiocese of New York. An excerpt:

Last Thursday, Catholic New York, the official newspaper of the Archdiocese of New York, published a notification that Fr. Donald Timone has (at long last) been removed from priestly ministry. He was suspended in December of last year, and the Archdiocesan Review Board only just determined that allegations that he sexually abused minors were credible and substantiated, though the diocese had paid for two six-figure settlements after abuse allegations in 2017. The story obviously implicates Cardinal Dolan. Last December, the New York Times reported that even after the Archdiocese of New York had paid out the settlements for sexual abuse of teenage boys by Fr. Timone, Cardinal Dolan kept him in ministry, despite the clear requirements of the Dallas Charter [pdf], and the fact that these were particularly egregious allegations: one of Fr. Timone’s victims, Timothy Murphy, had committed suicide.

Ron Belgau

Cardinal Dolan isn’t the only one whose clay ankles are on display in this inglorious affair. Fr. Timone’s depredations also implicate Courage, the bishops’ apostolate to “same-sex-attracted” Catholics. Here’s Ron with the pertinent details:

Fr. Timone was a longtime collaborator of Fr. John Harvey, OSFS, the founder of Courage. In addition to their close working relationship, Fr. Timone was a popular speaker at Courage conferences for 25 years. In 1989, he met with a small group of parents and other relatives of gay men, and helped them to organize Encourage, the Courage-affiliated ministry for parents and friends. He began editing the Courage Newsletter in 1992; in the pre-Internet era, the Newsletter was one of the most important ways for Courage to get its message out. From 1994 to 1995, while Fr. Harvey took a sabbatical to write The Truth about Homosexuality: The Cry of the Faithful, Fr. Timone served as interim executive director of Courage. (For more on Fr. Timone’s historic role in Courage, see Courage: A Ministry of Hope, published in 2018 by James Beers, a long-time member of Courage. Beers’s first effort at publicizing Courage was a 1995 article about Courage in the Staten Island Advance in which both he and Fr. Timone were interviewed.) Last Fall, Crux Magazine offered an overview of several ways that Fr. Harvey contributed to the sex abuse scandal. Fr. Timone’s story shows that Fr. Harvey’s past continues to haunt Courage today.

Ron Belgau

One hopes that Ron’s excellent reporting will cause members of Courage to demand a full ecclesiastical inquiry into the organization’s leadership and history. The fact that Fr. Harvey, Courage’s founder, publicly advocated for restoring sexually abusive priests to ministry already casts deep doubts about the apostolate’s relevance and ongoing role in the Church. This scandal only deepens that crisis. Ron explains why:

Fr. Timone’s case is not that significant in the scope of the abuse scandal in the United States as a whole. It is, however, quite significant for Courage. This case apparently involves the chair of Courage’s episcopal advisory board [Cardinal Dolan] ignoring the Dallas Charter and giving false information to other Catholic institutions in order to keep a former executive director of Courage in ministry, including ministry within Courage itself.

Ron Belgau, emphasis in original

It is, in short, a colossal failure from all the pertinent ecclesiastical authorities involved – especially the Cardinal Archbishop of New York. We can take comfort that Fr. Timone has been removed from the sacerdotal office at last. The fact that it took so long, however, speaks louder than this rear-guard action.

Propositions for the Pious

I offer the following propositions to my readers in a spirit of inquiry. Are these not edifying, pious, and – in many cases – straightforwardly true maxims? I have arranged them in thematic paragraphs, but beyond that, they do not issue from my hand. They are indeed far older maxims, drawn from the writings of certain noteworthy Catholic divines. Nevertheless, I should be very curious what my readers think of them – especially those with a theological background.

Are these not, on the whole, quite salutary? Do they not breathe the spirit of the best Fathers and Doctors, especially of those glorious Patriarchs of the West, SS Augustine and Thomas? Or, if anyone should find anything objectionable in them, what is the flaw? I ask sincerely. Those with ears to hear, let them hear.

In vain, O Lord, do You command, if You do not give what you command. Thus, O Lord, all things are possible to him for whom You make all things possible by effecting those same things in him.

All knowledge of God, even natural knowledge, even in the pagan philosophers, cannot come except from God; and without grace knowledge produces nothing but presumption, vanity, and opposition to God Himself, instead of the affections of adoration, gratitude, and love. As there is no sin without love of ourselves, so there is no good work without love of God.

A mark of the Christian Church is that it is catholic, embracing all the angels of heaven, all the elect and the just on earth, and of all times. What is the Church except an assembly of the sons of God abiding in His bosom, adopted in Christ, subsisting in His person, redeemed by His blood, living in His spirit, acting through His grace, and awaiting the grace of the future life? The Church or the whole Christ has the Incarnate Word as head but all the saints as members. The Church is one single man composed of many members, of which Christ is the head, the life, the subsistence and the person- it is one single Christ composed of many saints, of whom He is the sanctifier. There is nothing more spacious than the Church of God; because all the elect and the just of all ages comprise it.

It is useful and necessary at all times, in all places, and for every kind of person, to study and to know the spirit, the piety, and the mysteries of Sacred Scripture. The reading of Sacred Scripture is for all. The sacred obscurity of the Word of God is no reason for the laity to dispense themselves from reading it. The Lord’s Day ought to be sanctified by Christians with readings of pious works and above all of the Holy Scriptures. It is harmful for a Christian to wish to withdraw from this reading. It is an illusion to persuade oneself that knowledge of the mysteries of religion should not be communicated to women by the reading of Sacred Scriptures. Not from the simplicity of women, but from the proud knowledge of men has arisen the abuse of the Scriptures and have heresies been born. To snatch away from the hands of Christians the New Testament, or to hold it closed against them by taking away from them the means of understanding it, is to close for them the mouth of Christ. To forbid Christians to read Sacred Scripture, especially the Gospels, is to forbid the use of light to the sons of light, and to cause them to suffer a kind of excommunication. To snatch from the simple people this consolation of joining their voice to the voice of the whole Church is a custom contrary to the apostolic practice and to the intention of God.

A method full of wisdom, light, and charity is to give souls time for bearing with humility. and for experiencing their state of sin, for seeking the spirit of penance and contrition, and for beginning at least to satisfy the justice of God, before they are reconciled.

To suffer in peace an excommunication and an unjust anathema rather than betray truth, is to imitate St. Paul; far be it from rebelling against authority or of destroying unity.

Nothing engenders a worse opinion of the Church among her enemies than to see exercised there an absolute rule over the faith of the faithful, and to see divisions fostered because of matters which do not violate faith or morals. Truths have descended to this, that they are, as it were, a foreign tongue to most Christians, and the manner of preaching them is, as it were, an unknown idiom, so remote is the manner of preaching from the simplicity of the apostles. and so much above the common grasp of the faithful; nor is there sufficient advertence to the fact that this defect is one of the greatest visible signs of the weakening of the Church and of the wrath of God on His sons. Stubbornness, investigation, and obstinacy in being unwilling either to examine something or to acknowledge that one has been deceived daily changes into an odor, as it were, of death, for many people, that which God has placed in His Church to be an odor of life within it, for instance, good books, instructions, holy examples, etc. Deplorable is the time in which God is believed to be honored by persecution of the truth and its disciples! This time has come…. To be considered and treated by the ministers of religion as impious and unworthy of all commerce with God, as a putrid member capable of corrupting everything in the society of saints, is to pious men a more terrible death than the death of the body. In vain does anyone flatter himself on the purity of his intentions and on a certain zeal for religion, when he persecutes honest men with fire and sword, if he is blinded by his own passion or carried away by that of another on account of which he does not want to examine anything. We frequently believe that we arc sacrificing an impious man to God, when we are sacrificing a servant of God to the devil.

Elsewhere: Keanu Heydari on the Coredemptrix

August is the Month of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. While I was too busy moving and adapting to life in Pennsylvania to write anything for Assumption Day, my good friend Keanu Heydari wrote a beautiful meditation on the meaning of the Assumption as well as on Our Lady’s co-redemptive role more generally. I offer it to my readers for their edification and delight as well as for the honor of Our Lady’s Sorrow and Immaculate Heart. Here’s a particularly puissant excerpt:

In this remarkable passage, as the Venerable Fulton Sheen has argued, John’s Jesus invokes the archetypical womanhood of Mary as the New Eve. Mary is the woman. Jesus affirms her role in undoing our devastated humanity in the Garden by affirming her role as the New Eve. Moreover, the Lord makes a startling claim about the dignity of Mary’s personhood and her role in the narrative arc of cosmic salvation as Coredemptrix and Mediatrix. What is true about Christ is also just as true of the Virgin. Only Mary could confess that she, in the purest way, was truly of the flesh of the Son of Man. 

Keanu Heydari

Keanu hits upon a fundamental truth of Catholicism, the Marian-Ecclesial analogy with Christ. What is predicated of Christ can be predicated of both the Church, His Bride, and, in a special way, His Mother. This is not to suggest that anyone other than Jesus Christ as a discreet person is the Logos, but to note that all that He is by nature, we can become by Grace – and Mary first of all.

Patreon: Mirrors, Part I

Over at Patreon, I’ve published the first part of a new weird story, “Mirrors.” A popular writer moves into new lodgings, only to discover that the odd neighbors aren’t the only thing strange about the place…

Here’s an excerpt:

I still have not met any of my other neighbors, but I have heard them. Last night, I was woken up some time past midnight by several large thuds from above. It sounded as if someone was dropping bowling balls again and again on the floorboards. Just when I got out of bed and was halfway to making up my mind about whether or not I should go complain, the noise stopped. I hope this will not be a nightly recurrence, as it will surely impact my writing.

“Mirrors,” Part I – By Rick Yoder

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