Tu es Petrus

The phone call by His Holiness Pope Francis to an Italian student in Padua who had written to His Holiness about his hopes for the future after graduation has raised eyebrows, including those of Fr Alexander Lucie-Smith.

Pope Francis asked to be called 'tu' by the Catholic layman. Fr Alexander says that this is noteworthy because the more polite and reverent 'lei' is used for addressing members of the hierarchy of the Church.

As Fr Lucie-Smith goes on to say,

...'it is a little bit like the Queen inviting you to call her Lilibet. And it goes further. The Pope provides us with a theological justification for this informality. The student said of the phone conversation, “He said to me, do you think the Apostles would have used the polite form with Christ? “Would they have called him your excellency? They were friends, just as you and I are now, and with friends I’m accustomed to using ‘tu’.”

I'm less concerned about the 'tu' or 'lei' thing and more concerned about Pope Francis's justification for introducing this element of informality into the conversation 'between equals'. Do we or do we not know whether the Apostles would have used the polite form with the Lord? As one commenter on the Herald website called Annie has pointed out, the Apostles consistently called Jesus, 'Lord', 'Master', 'Teacher' or 'Rabbi', all these titles being from their outset and in their immediate meaning 'honorific'.

If the Holy Father wishes to break down the formal barriers between Pope and people, Shepherd and sheep, then as for the way in which His Holiness does this is going to be a ball entirely 'in his court,' so to speak. It reminds me a little of those moments when one addresses a Priest as 'Father' or a Bishop as 'My Lord' and they say, "No, no, just call me Barry!" or something.

Priests and Bishops should not 'lord it over' their flock, but equally they should be comfortable enough with the Office into which they have been called to accept the titles that come with it. If everybody called their parish priest by their first name you may soon have a situation when the idea of ontological change becomes forgotten and the sacredness of the priesthood becomes lost because we are all 'mates'.

Jesus said to His Apostles, "You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If then I being your Lord and Master, have washed your feet; you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you do also. Amen, amen I say to you: The servant is not greater than his lord; neither is the apostle greater than he that sent him. If you know these things, you shall be blessed if you do them." 

In this one passage we receive a re-run of the washing of the feet of the Apostles (who were all men) while Jesus accepts the title of Teacher and Lord. The humility of the Lord, who washes the feet of the Apostles, some of whom are scandalised by the very idea, is not destroyed by His acceptance of the titles 'Lord' and 'Master' because this is an acknowledgement of the Truth that sets them free. If Jesus is just 'best mate' and they are too focused on that then how can they discover their need for the mercy that flows from His divinity, His condescension and His generosity.

The office of the papacy, the office of Bishop, the office of the priesthood - these are sacred things. It may be that Cardinals love to be called 'Your Excellency', it may be that some cannot bear it and curl up and die a little inside each time it is said. If they curl up and die a little inside, then are we not talking of the humiliation of the priest which comes with the office? However, how the individual Churchman feels about it is not the point. It is not primarily about them, as persons, but the Office which they have assumed and accepted at some point in their life as a priest, or bishop or pope.

I feel privileged to be on friendly terms with some Catholic priests. It is a great joy to be in the presence of priests, partly because they have wonderful personalities and often a great sense of humour but also because when I am in the company of a priest I am in the presence of a 'Father in God' to me. Those who say, 'Don't call me Father' forget that when they say, "Oh, just call me Kevin!" they deprive me of a spiritual father, making me, even if momentarily, a spiritual orphan.

Let us pray that on this the Feast of the Apostle, Saint Bartholomew, priests, bishops and the pope grow to be comfortable in the skin - the Office - that the Lord has given them and never try to deny what they are out of a sense of false humility, or out of misunderstanding of the great dignity in which they have been vested by the Lord Jesus Christ. Titles in the Catholic Church for priests, bishops and the pope come from being 'Alter Christus'. We only call people by such titles as 'Father', 'My Lord', 'Your Excellency', 'Your Holiness' because of Jesus Christ and the powers He has given those who He has called into His service.

Of course, none of this 'tu' or 'lei' stuff would have occurred if the Pope was English...

Wet Walsingham Pilgrims

The news reports suggest that this is to be a wet, wet weekend, at least on Saturday. A washout, in fact. Say a prayer for the pilgrims making their way from Ely to the Walsingham on foot with the LMS for the conversion of this poor country. You can follow, as usual, the pilgrims' progress on the blog of the Chairman of the LMS.

I expect there will be some, perhaps many, making their heroic way to Walsingham praying for the protection of the Traditional Latin Mass declared by Pope Benedict XVI to have been 'never formally abrogated' but which, in the light of the decision to restrict it for the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, may be under general threat.

Our Lady of Walsingham, pray for England, for the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate and pray for the safeguarding of the Mass of Ages. Ora pro nobis!

A little Catholic humour

A well known atheist was walking through the woods one day when he was confronted by a savage looking bear.

Turning, he fled in fear of his life. Within a few seconds the bear had outrun him and with one paw pinned him to the ground whilst the other, was poised to strike the mortal blow.

"Oh God" screamed the atheist.

Instantly, the bear froze as time stood still.

And then, a voice from above said: "You called me?"

"Oh", said the atheist, "So you really do exist, could you make this bear go away please? (he was a very polite atheist).

"But why should I?" said God. "You've been denying my existence all your life".

"That's a very fair point" said the atheist, thinking quickly. 

"Do you think perhaps that you could turn the bear into a Christian instead?"

"Yes, my son, I can certainly do that for you", said the Almighty.

Instantly, the bear became animated once more, halted its attack, placed its paws together and said: "Bless us O Lord.......".

Teorema

If you asked an uncouth hillbilly to imagine European art cinema, he might conjour something like Teorema (1968). Pier Paolo Pasolini hits every conceivable stereotype, from stilted symbolism to elliptical aimlessness. It's simultaneously fascinating and insufferable.

The Visitor (Terence Stamp) visits a middle-class Italian family. He systematically seduces the entire household: maid Emilia (Laura Betti), businessman Paolo (Massimo Girotti), repressed wife Lucia (Silvia Mangano), the artistic son (Ninetto Davoli) and daughter (Anne Wiazemsky). Each family member finds their desires and talents stimulated by The Visitor. Yet he leaves as mysteriously as he came, leaving his charges to ponder existence without him.

Teorema seems Pasolini's bid to outdo Michaelangelo Antonioni as Italy's most pretentious director. He presents seemingly random shots and scenes without benefit of plot or characterization. The Visitor need do no more than read a book to seduce a character. One character winds up wandering nude in the desert; another's buried alive. For further meaning, Pasolini shoots early scenes in silent black-and-white, inter-cuts desert photography with Italian cityscape and drapes them in Biblical quotes and Mozart's Requiem. Clearly Pasolini wants to make a deep statement.

Yet his preoccupations seem easy enough to decode. Teorema equates sexual liberation with religious rapture. Terence Stamp's handsome Visitor becomes a carnal Jesus, seducing the entire family and making them better for the experience. Lucia becomes sexually adventurous; Paolo embarks on a spiritual awakening; Angelino finds artistic inspiration pissing on carpets. Best of all, Emilia becomes a holy woman who heals lepers and levitates! Some characters meet tragic ends, yet the message is clear: bourgeois society stifles not only sexual but spiritual realization.

Is Teorema really so simple? Any film student could craft a convincing defense based on thematic content alone. But Italian cinema is unsubtle on its best days, preferring style to narrative, broad themes to deep characterization. Unlike, say, Luchino Visconti or Sergio Leone, Pasolini's style only interests up to a point. We're expected to read deep meaning into every bizarre image and unmotivated action - perfect for Intro to Film Analysis midterms, but not conducive to audience enjoyment. How seriously, really, can you take an aroused maid jamming a hose down her throat while her paramour watches?

For all that, Teorema is strangely watchable. It may well require multiple viewings to digest. After all, Picnic at Hanging Rock went from head-scratcher to personal favorite through rewatches. But Peter Weir's film has obvious appeal: beautiful photography, hypnotic music, ethereal atmosphere and a palpable sense of dread. If Teorema has a purpose beyond its baroque "themes," it's eluded me.

Richard III - the non Catholics just don't get it

Please may we have our Abbey back?

The tussle over where the remains of King Richard III are to be buried rattles on with suggestions that he should be received and re-interred at York Cathedral, Leicester Cathedral or Westminster Abbey.

This is a Catholic King we are talking about and whilst, all of the above mentioned churches were once Catholic, they are Catholic no longer.

Not to labour the point but they are all Protestant and, whichever way you package it, that means that they are heretical - not in communion with the one true Church, in fact, very much out of communion with the OTC.

The letters pages in today's Daily Telegraph carry yet another venue that is totally inappropriate:-

Sir - I too am a descendant of Edward IV, (well you should know better, then) via his daughter Elizabeth of York and her marriage to Henry Tudor.
Would the Queen consider allowing Richard III's remains to be interred in St George's Chapel, Windsor, where his brother, Edward lies?
Elizabeth Bembridge

Well Mrs Bembridge, perhaps a solution to this problem would be for the Protestant Church to return one or all of the Cathedrals and Chapels that were stolen from the Catholic Church.

Then, King Richard could be buried in York, Westminster, Windsor, Chipping Sodbury or, anywhere, for that matter, that was of the same Faith as him.

How to spot a terrorist

A badge of courage.......or of extremism?

It is reassuring, in one sense, to find that the British Government, for all its faults, has set in place a programme of training for public sector workers, to enable them to be aware of the terrorism threat and, more importantly, identify potential terrorists.

It has been in place since 2011 and it is called PREVENT.

PREVENT is a nice, non alarmist sort of a word that one might use to describe a deterrent to stop cats or dogs from entering the garden.

If I was in charge of such initiatives I might have called it 'SPOTAKILLER' or, 'ISLAMOWATCH' and that brings me to the point.

The official blurb covering PREVENT (you may read it HERE) mentions Northern Ireland Terrorism, International Terrorism, Extreme Right Wing Terrorism and so on but, coyly, fails to make any mention of the main threat, that of Islamic Fundamentalist Terrorism.

But, according to my source, those who are on the receiving end of such courses, namely, doctors, nurses, teachers, immigration officers and so on, are being given very specific directions with regard to identifying Muslim extremists.

Quite how that works I don't know but I am assured that it's a bit more sophisticated than looking out for anybody with a spade beard and a crochet cap.

But how long will it be before we see a target group listed as 'Christian right wing' or 'Christian anti gay 'marriage/abortion?'

Not too long, I suspect.

And how will they spot us?

Well......they might make a start by arresting those found wearing symbols of extremism....like a crucifix or a scapular.

The Witches (1967)

Producer Dino De Laurentiis assembled five of Italy's greatest directors for this anthology. A showcase for Silvana Mangano (or Mrs. De Laurentis), The Witches (1967) is more notable for its talent than the uneven content. Besides auteurs Luchino Visconti, Pier Paolo Pasolini and Vittorio De Sica, there's also an oddly-cast Clint Eastwood.

The Witches consists of five short films featuring Mangano. Luchino Visconti's The Witch Burned Alive shows Mangano as Gloria, an actress taking refuge at a mountain resort. Besieged by papparazzi, inflaming the men to passion and the women to jealousy, Gloria's exile drives her to despair. Mauro Bolognini's Civic Responsibility depicts a selfish woman driving an injured man (Alfredo Rosi) to a hospital. The Earth as Seen from the Moon is a fairy tale by Pier Paolo Pasolini, with widower Ciancicato (Toto) and son Baciu (Ninetto Davoli) pursuing their ideal woman - the deaf-mute Absurda Yelp. The Sicilian shows an unfaithful Sicilian wife triggering a blood feud. Finally there's An Evening Like the Others, where housewife Giovanna fantasizes about cheating on her milquetoast husband Carlo (Clint Eastwood).

The Witches advances from a singularly macho conceit: women (specifically Mangano) always cause trouble. The Witch Burned Alive explores this at greatest length: the hotel women relish in stripping Gloria's makeup and wig; a jealous rival (Annie Garadot) seduces a young waiter (Helmut Berger) to prove her womanhood. But the selfishness of Civic Responsibility and The Sicilian's protagonists registers, along with Giovanna's shrewishness. The ideal woman, of course, is Absurda, unable to communicate or hear anything. Baggage aside, how do the stories stack up?


Visconti's story is long, stiff and ponderous without appropriate payoff. Auteurists may recall Bellisima's excoriation of stardom, while Gloria's catatonic exit presages Ingrid Thulin's final scenes in The Damned. But the material's just to thin to match Visconti's pretensions. Bolognini's and Rossi's shorter entries just sort of sit there. Civic Responsibility is an unfunny gag stretched out interminably; The Sicilian resorts to crude jokes about shotgun murders and shrieking widows. Somewhere the filmmakers forgot to add humor.

Nonetheless, Witches gets two lovely chapters. The Earth as Seen From the Moon is a mini-masterpeice. Stars Toto and Ninetto Davoli previously collaborated on Pasolini's The Hawks and the Sparrows (1966), a similarly broad comedy. With absurd hairstyles, exaggerated gestures, fast motion and goofy sight gags (flirting with a mannequin!), they effectively update comedia dell'arte for the '60s. Mangano matches them with an hysterical pantomime performance, down to a delightfully absurd demise. It's strange yet endearingly whimsical, without the off-putting tawdriness of Pasolini's later work.

De Sica's An Evening Like the Others plays like Brief Encounter re-imagined by Fellini. De Sica contrasts Giovanna's dour marriage with her absurd fantasies of sex and violence. She alternately flirts with superheroes Diabolik and Batman, shoots Carlo while wearing a Barbarella costume, or stripteases in a stadium of drooling admirers. Eastwood sends up his image, sporting Man With No Name garb and asking Giovanna if she wants to see A Fistful of Dollars! Mangano comes off best here, eschewing vanity to play an unattractive, unappealing woman.

The Witches is an odd patchwork film, alternately brilliant and lousy. (I haven't even mentioned the Terry Gilliam-style credits animation.) If nothing else, it's an eclectic monument to Dino De Laurentiis's hubris: five of Italy's most talented filmmakers, collaborating on a silly vanity project/sketch comedy. The mind would boggle if this weren't the man who later gave us Orca.