A bad odour and a traditional Catholic

My last post concerned a prominent female blogger who appears to view traditional Catholics rather less favourably than something nasty found on the sole of her shoe.

This is not an uncommon reaction but, many years ago it was only one's work colleagues (non Catholics) who would curl their lips and wrinkle their noses when it came out that you were Catholic.

I believe that this was a show of both distaste  and fear born out of a form of grudging respect that they held for those of the Catholic Faith.

They knew that our Faith was black and white, no shades of grey, no prevaricating, something was either right or wrong (and then the whole world believed that homosexual acts were wrong).

Today it appears as if it matters not to the world if we are Catholic or Newt worshippers - we are worthless and to be ignored.

And now it is fellow Catholics who make silly faces when they learn that you are at the traditional end of the swimming pool, (the deep end).

Earlier this year I was making a return journey from up North (sorry, oop North) when I had to change trains at Stockport.

Who should be sitting in the platform waiting room, resplendent in his habit, but a Dominican Friar.

There is no sight more wonderful on our streets than a Dominican in full fig.

White stockings, black, highly polished shoes and a black and white habit with a set of large Rosary
beads interwoven into the hem of the garment.

As a child of the Order I felt compelled to sit alongside this epitome of the Faith and strike up a conversation with him.
We spoke of my Dominican school (St James' Burnt Oak) and of current affairs with regard to HMC.

And then I blew it. Our pleasant chat came to an abrupt halt when I asked the question:
" Do you celebrate Mass in the Extraordinary Form Father?"

His face betrayed him as if he had just taken a mouthful of dead rat.

"No, never" he spluttered, coming up for air.

And that, sadly, was the end of that. He made some feeble excuse such as having to catch a train and departed pdq.

He is, how shall I put it? One of the most senior Dominicans in the country and his name (which I shall not divulge) is very similar to a highly notorious brother Dominican with extreme left wing tendencies.

And therein lies the clue to his response.
If he had been a young OP he would have not made the silly face but, as a member of the old guard he had already made one somersault back in 1969 and he was not going to chuck away his "Spirit of Vatican II" shroud to make another about turn in 2013.
Fr Z's words, which have been taken out of context and twisted to make them appear uncharitable, ring true here.
I paraphrase:
The biological clock is running out on the old guard and, when they finally shuffle off, the Catholic world will be left with a stronger orthodox base.

Trouble is, many of us will have shuffled off by then also.

I am far from a paragon of virtue but, if I learn that someone only attends the OF Mass or, indeed, shows a dislike of the EF one, I do not pull a face.

And I wish our allegedly liberal friends would not do so either.
 

An omission - a Catholic education

                                       Life in a Catholic school of the Sixties

In yesterday's post I listed the formative elements that contributed to my Catholic faith but I  omitted one key part, that of my religious education.

I do believe that Catholic education today bears no resemblance to Catholic education in the late 50s and early 60s, unless, of course, you have an excellent school such as the London Oratory or the Cardinal Vaughan at your disposal.

Catholic education, or RE as it was called at St James's Burnt Oak, was very much a mixed bag.
I know not what syllabus the teachers (mainly Dominican nuns) worked to but it must  have been highly creative and innovative.

Each morning, after the occasional assembly prayers and daily class prayers, we would receive 45 minutes of RE.

Geography played a large part of this followed swiftly by history. We learnt about Palestine and its surrounding regions, of Lake Genasareth and the Sea of Galilee. We studied the journeys of Our Lord and then reverted to the Old Testament and mapped the component paths from Egypt to Sinai and Jerusalem to Rome.

We delved into the structure of the Roman Empire and compared how its rule in Britain compared with its rule in the Mediterranean regions; how it ruled in terms of an occupying force while still allowing a Jewish structure of military and civil authorities.

We examined the miracles of the Old Testament in comparison with those of the New, we debated the parables of Our Lord and statements such as: "Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build my church" and we discussed the parameters of sin and how a moral code fitted into a modern society.

Outside of RE lessons we were taught to sing Plainchant and I recall our lay music teacher, Mr Freed exhorting uo to turn our mouths into pillar box aperture shapes when singing the Kyrie so that we produced an 'a' sound rather than the much easier 'ee' one.

We attended Mass in the parish church on high days and holidays and, on the odd occasion, in the school itself. We went on pilgrimages together and, in our general history lessons, we were taught both the 'Catholic answer' and 'the one you use in the exam.'

The school curriculum would be unheard of today and, at first glance one may overlook how that had a bearing on one's Catholic Faith but we learnt Brickwork (why?) alongside Physics and Woodwork and Metalwork alongside Algebra and Chemistry and, somehow it all seemed to work in a fashion and it added to our Catholic Faith by embedding fortitude, resilience and creativity into our outlook on life.

Discipline was the major area of failure; it was harsh, unjust and unCatholic but it did teach a certain stoicism although, I fear that many would have lost their Faith due to unwarranted strappings and beatings.
In defence of the teaching staff I have to say that it was a tough school. The pupils came from a mixed bag of backgrounds and there was a strong criminal element.

 James Hanratty, the last man to be executed in Britain, was four years ahead of me but there were plenty of potential killers among my contemporaries.

And, finally, there was the Christian witness of the Dominican Sisters themselves. Most had served on the missions and were able to regale boys with pretty bloodthirsty tales while the younger ones provided exemplar models of propriety and goodness that most could relate to if not actually follow.

I would not hold St James's up as a model of good Catholic Education but it did have the main component parts to imbue the Faith into the great unwashed and I am grateful to the nuns and lay teachers for that at least.