Vive la difference

Yesterday English Roman Catholics observed the feast of Saints Cuthbert Mayne, John Houghton, Edmund Campion, Richard Gwynn and Thirty-Six Companions, aka the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales. Now as it happens, I am very distantly related to the first of these, although I suspect that fact would have brought the blessed Cuthbert little joy had he known of it. He wasn't too keen on Anglican clergymen, even though he had been one himself for a brief period before he saw the light and took himself off to Flanders for the real thing. The unreal thing - his Anglican orders - he referred to at a later time as the Mark of the Beast. Not terribly ecumenical, as I am sure you will agree.

During my first week in Oxford, the principal of St Stephen's House thought it would be good for all of us if we spent a few days learning about the importance of community - a fashion which has taken off in no uncertain terms as you will be aware. To this end Fr Allen invited representatives from a number of particular communities to spend some time with us and tell us all about it. One of these was a remarkably handsome young man in jeans and a woollen sweater who turned out to be The Very Rev'd Fergus Kerr, Prior of Blackfriars, the Dominican House of Studies in Oxford, whom I remember from this time because the representative of the Prostitutes' Collective (yes, really) took him to task at lunch for being so attractive and so unavailable at the same time. And it wasn't even a question of the money.

I remember Fr Kerr for a rather more important reason, however, because we saw him again (this time in his dominican habit) at a service in the conventual church at Blackfriars during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity and at which I was greatly struck by his observation that we had no business taking our denominational differences lightly, since better men and women than we were had seen fit to endure torture and death for them.

I don't think I am much of a believer in ecumenism, at least not in the type which expects what Ronald Knox (his tongue firmly in his cheek) called Reunion all Round. Perfect unity seems to me as attainable in this world as perfect charity, or perfect kindness, or any other perfection. And a mere majority will most certainly not do. While one believer remains outside the fold, the Body of Christ is as divided as if it were a billion. Mob rule is not a part of the Gospel, not now, not ever.

Furthermore, it seems to me that the real goal is to accept those who do not belong to our group, and who do not share our opinions. Like a good Anglican, I want to have my cake and eat it. Of course apostolic succession is an expression of the divine will for the Church, along with the doctrine of the real presence, prayer for the departed, and so on. But that does not mean to say that those who do not share these beliefs are not part of the Church. (They are wrong, of course, but that is not quite the same thing.) However, don't expect them to change their views soon - such as any time before the rapture.

'All colours agree in the dark,' said the seventeenth century Calvinist Francis Bacon, and I can't help but agree.

Ad Limina

I watched with some interest Pope Benedict's recent visit to the United Kingdom. And with some mystification as well. Just why did it have to be a state visit? While it is true that Vatican City and its outlying territories (the Lateran Basilica and its palace, the summer residence at Castel Gandolfo, etc) you could hardly say that the papal state is in any real sense a people or a nation, anymore than the similarly sovereign Knights of Malta are, who also have patch of Rome on which to raise a flag.

However, beyond the cost to the British taxpayer of His Holiness' ad limina visit to The Protestant Island, there was a detail which I found rather more important. Apart from praising (and indeed beatifying) Cardinal Newman for a miracle he probably didn't perform, and for views which he apparently didn't hold, the Holy Father's tone was generally very negative.

Now, there are lots of things to be negative about, and the pope has been duly negative about most of them. But is that enough? Can you lead people to Christ without showing them why it would be a good, joyful, and life-affirming thing that they should be so led? I rather doubt it.

If I remember rightly, St Francis de Sales had something to say about a spoonful of honey being rather more attractive than a barrelful of vinegar. But what is it that is attractive about Christ - and how can it be effectively conveyed to our contemporaries?