Undiminished Vigour

A week ago, I heard the philosopher and 'new atheist', Daniel Dennett, speak at the Oxford Union. His topic – the impact of the internet on religion – caught my attention, not least because Godzdogz aims to harness the internet for religious purposes.

Earth's proud empires pass away...

One of Dennett's suggestions was that religious institutions are not as permanent as they might seem on the surface; and he singled out the Catholic Church as a good example. The Church is old, venerable, and very large, but also in constant 'crisis' – as the headlines never cease to remind us. Dennett made the explicit comparison to the Soviet Union, which collapsed almost overnight, peacefully and without warning. Empires and tyrannies do pass away suddenly. So we can hold out hope that the same might happen to the corrupt regimes of our own day – and Dennett would include the Catholic Church in this pejorative category.

This was, in fact, the subject of an excellent talk I heard back in 2010, to the ex-patriate Burmese Catholic community in the Philippines. The speaker, a Dominican, was particularly qualified to analyse large empires and institutions, having successively been a diplomat in Moscow and an ambassador to the Holy See. Like Dennett, he spoke encouragingly about how apparently impregnable regimes can collapse with almost no warning, applying the historical lesson to the present situation of the military junta in Myanmar. But would this Dominican have agreed that the Catholic Church is in the same precarious situation?

I think not. Dennett's tacit assumption, of course, is that the Catholic religion is false. His implicit argument runs something like this. Since the truth will win in a fair fight – 'who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?' (as Milton put it) – and the internet increases the potential for communicating the truth and exposing falsehood, then (Dennett hopes to conclude) the Catholic religion will suffer as the internet grows.

But what if the Catholic faith is true? That is what we Catholics believe. Without truth, our religion is hollow and our 'faith is vain', as St Paul pointed out. But, on the contrary, Jesus endowed his Church with his Spirit of truth, promising that he would 'lead [us] into all truth'. This divine dimension of the Church is entirely missing from Dennett's analysis.

Now Dennett's position reminded me of the Protestant historian, Lord Macaulay, and the famous passage from his 1840 essay on Ranke's History of the Popes. It is so beautifully written and expresses so vividly the permanence of the Church, that it is worth quoting at length:

There is not, and there never was on this earth, a work of human policy so well deserving of examination as the Roman Catholic Church. The history of that Church joins together the two great ages of human civilisation. No other institution is left standing which carries the mind back to the times when the smoke of sacrifice rose from the Pantheon, and when camelopards and tigers bounded in the Flavian amphitheatre. The proudest royal houses are but of yesterday, when compared with the line of the Supreme Pontiffs. That line we trace back in an unbroken series, from the Pope who crowned Napoleon in the nineteenth century to the Pope who crowned Pepin in the eighth; and far beyond the time of Pepin the august dynasty extends, till it is lost in the twilight of fable. The republic of Venice came next in antiquity. But the republic of Venice was modern when compared with the Papacy; and the republic of Venice is gone, and the Papacy remains. The Papacy remains, not in decay, not a mere antique, but full of life and youthful vigour. The Catholic Church is still sending forth to the farthest ends of the world missionaries as zealous as those who landed in Kent with Augustine, and still confronting hostile kings with the same spirit with which she confronted Attila. 

The New Zealander, by Gustave Doré

The number of her children is greater than in any former age. Her acquisitions in the New World have more than compensated for what she has lost in the Old. Her spiritual ascendency extends over the vast countries which lie between the plains of the Missouri and Cape Horn, countries which a century hence, may not improbably contain a population as large as that which now inhabits Europe. The members of her communion are certainly not fewer than a hundred and fifty millions [now 1.2 thousand millions]; and it will be difficult to show that all other Christian sects united amount to a hundred and twenty millions. Nor do we see any sign which indicates that the term of her long dominion is approaching. She saw the commencement of all the governments and of all the ecclesiastical establishments that now exist in the world; and we feel no assurance that she is not destined to see the end of them all. She was great and respected before the Saxon had set foot on Britain, before the Frank had passed the Rhine, when Grecian eloquence still flourished at Antioch, when idols were still worshipped in the temple of Mecca. And she may still exist in undiminished vigour when some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's.

Now a few comments are in order. Those final lines can bring a chill to those of us who imagine our own precious civilisation to be invincible. In the days of the British Empire, they would have had an even greater effect. Next, remember that Macaulay, as a Protestant, is not naturally sympathetic to the Catholic Church, so his words can be taken in a fairly objective light. But he, like Dennett, mistakenly assumes that the Church is merely 'a work of human policy'.

Of course, the Church is a human institution in one sense, and is composed of sinful human beings (ourselves); but its more fundamental identity is its divine constitution as the Body of Christ. The Church, after all, does not only exist on earth, but also encompasses all those who have died before us in Christ – those in heavenly glory and those being purified – and in God's eternity includes even now the blessed of future generations.

In today's Gospel, people doubt that the Christ, the Saviour of his people, could come from remote Galilee. Yet, Jesus of Nazareth has triumphed. We believe he has conquered even sin and death, by his cross and resurrection. But even the non-Christian observer can plainly see the results of his mission. For instance, Algernon Charles Swinburne's diatribe against immortality, entitled Hymn to Proserpine (1866), contains this evocative couplet:

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has grown grey from thy breath;

We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the fullness of death.

Or will goodness prevail?

The sentiment is often attributed to the dying Emperor Julian 'the Apostate', who had lamented the rise of Christianity and sought a return to pagan ways. In the days of Swinburne and Macaulay, the spread of Christianity was even more obvious – and therefore all the more to be celebrated, or lamented.

But Swinburne's bleak view makes the same mistake as Dennett (and Macaulay), seeing no divine operation at work in the Church. His colourless world is very far from the manifest joy and abundance of life that is the daily experience of Catholics around the world. For us, this joy, this life, this faith, hope and love – all these are witnesses to the divine origin of our religion. 'For God so loved the world that he sent his Son into the world; not to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.'

The same Almighty God who loves and sustains all things in their very being, is the same Lord who preserves and inspires his holy Church on earth. That Church, which subsists in the Catholic Church now led by Pope Francis, may not always exist with all the same structures or the same exterior appearances – some of which are indeed 'works of human policy' – and yet she has received a divine guarantee:

And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. (Matthew 16:18)

May the Church ever grow and flourish 'in undiminished vigour', while avoiding prideful triumphalism, to become the refuge and hope of all humanity, especially of the poorest and most downtrodden among our brothers and sisters.

Pope Francis, as Cardinal Bergoglio, washing feet

YEAR OF FAITH, 11th October 2012 – 24th November, 2013.

On 11th October Pope Benedict XVI will solemnly open a Year of Faith with the celebration of Mass in St Peter’s, Rome. The Church has a long tradition of Holy Years, marking various dates, anniversaries and ongoing themes in the life of the Church and of the individual members who constitute the Church. This one has a particular focus on faith – as did the Year of Faith called by Paul VI in 1967, to commemorate the 19th centenary of the martyrdom of Saints Peter and Paul. We are called to renew our faith: to deepen our knowledge of it, our commitment to it and our proclamation of it to others. 

We are to do this as individuals but also, crucially, ecclesially, as members of the Church, at parish, diocesan and universal levels, and as members of religious orders, institutes, and other ecclesial communities and movements. Our faith, though personal and embedded in the particulars of our vocations, relationships and cultures, is a participation in the faith of the Church as a whole, across time and space. We receive our faith, a gift of grace from God to each of us, through the Church. We are taught the faith, and receive its sanctifying effects, through the apostles and their successors the bishops, and the priests and deacons who share in their ministry. Our communion and fellowship with the other members of the Church nourishes and strengthens our faith.

For these ecclesial reasons this Year of Faith coincides with the 50th Anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council. The Holy Year is thus an opportunity to deepen our appreciation of the teaching of this the 21st Ecumenical or General Council of the Church. 11th October 2012 is also the 20th anniversary of the promulgation of the Universal Catechism of the Catholic Church, a major fruit of the council and a great source to both deepen and teach our faith. It is the day on which the XII Ordinary Synod Of Bishops opens. This set of synods began after Vatican II, and as a response to it. Each has resulted in a universal letter (Apostolic Exhortation) from the Pope. This year the theme is the New Evangelisation. The call to every Christian to witness to his or her faith, that is to evangelise, was, along with the call to holiness, one of the two universal calls that Vatican II made to all Christians. In short, this year is rooted in the event of Vatican II. But Vatican II is rooted in the faith of the Church, and in continuity with the way that the faith has been taught and lived for 2000 years.

Both Blessed John Paul II and Benedict XVI see the event, documents and implementation of Vatican II as key to the life of the current Church. In his document announcing this Year of Faith, Porta Fidei (2011, n.5) Benedict cited his blessed predecessor: “With the passing of the years, the Council documents have lost nothing of their value or brilliance… I feel more than ever in duty bound to point to the Council as the great grace bestowed on the Church in the twentieth century: there we find a sure compass by which to take our bearings in the century now beginning.” (from Novo Millenio Ineunte, 2001, n.57.)’ Benedict then immediately continues: ‘I would also like to emphasize strongly what I had occasion to say concerning the Council a few months after my election as Successor of Peter: “if we interpret and implement it guided by a right hermeneutic, it can be and can become increasingly powerful for the ever necessary renewal of the Church” (Address to the Roman Curia, 2005).’ As the Pope has put it and as the Congregation for Doctrine and Faith put it in its Note for the Year of Faith, this means a ‘hermeneutic of reform in continuity’, not a hermeneutic of discontinuity and rupture’. The words ‘continuity’ and ‘reform’ both matter. The Church stays the same in its essentials, but reforms and renews herself, aware of the pull of sin and of the world; she changes as she meets new situations and challenges, but so as to continue to do what she has always been called to do, that is, to worship God in truth and love, and bring the life of God to humanity, and grow in holiness. The Council thus calls the Church to a process of organic growth, drawing on, and loyal to, the faith, worship, magisterial teaching and sound theology of the Church over time, but moving forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit to continue that life and mission in changed situations and cultures, aware that she often needs to change, to adapt, to find fresh expressions and to renew herself to do so.

Major Councils of the Church have always sought to serve both continuity and reform in the life and mission of the Church. They affirm the apostolic faith of the Church, expressing and sometimes defining what it consists of in the changed circumstances of their day and in intellectual challenges to it, sometimes using new terminology to do so. But they also call for reform and renewal and a more effective undertaking of the witness and mission of the Church in the circumstances of their day. General Councils do this since they are gatherings of the bishops, successors of the apostles, meeting together, in communion with the Pope, which decide things together, with the approval of the Pope. As such they carry the highest authority of the Church.

It is the intention of Godzdogz over this Year of Faith to look back at the 21 Ecumenical, or General, Councils of the Church. We will look (briefly) at them in their historic contexts, the challenges they faced, what they taught, what reforms they called for and why, and to some extent what then happened. In short we will look at the processes of ecclesial continuity and reforming change on the large stage of 2000 years of Church history. The series is called ‘Councils of Faith’.

The series will hopefully give us a fuller appreciation of our faith, of its ecclesial dimension, of God’s action in our midst, but also of the implications of God choosing to work through fallible human beings. God is at work in graced and gifted but fragile people, weak and mired by sin, and caught up in, and sometimes dangerously entangled in, politics and all manner of complexities of life in this world. It will hopefully help us put debates about Vatican II into a more informed and realistic perspective and to make a more informed, and so more effective, contribution, in communion with the pope and our bishops, to the renewal of the church. In short, we will hopefully come to a fuller realization that God’s gift of revelation and salvation to us means that we do indeed hold immense treasure, but in earthenware vessels. May this allow the focus and glory to be about God, manifest in the face of Christ. (See 2 Cor 4). ‘Councils of Faith’ will hopefully help us grow in faith, aware of our ecclesial history, instilling in us both hope and also humility, informing us and also forming us, and making us better able to form others in faith.

The Catholic Church in England

It is, perhaps, a temptation to view the Catholic Church in England as a product of the counter-reformation and reduce its scope to a history of some 450 years. However, to do so, is to do injury to the vast influence of English Catholicism’s cultural, intellectual and devotional influence, not only within the confines of these Isles but far beyond. For a real appreciation of the English Church we must gaze further back than that. Many would date the founding of the Church in England to the official Gregorian Mission of 596AD. Pope Gregory the Great entrusted Augustine of Canterbury to head a delegation to these shores with the object of converting the Anglo-Saxons to Christianity, however, as St Bede shows us in his Historia Ecclesiastica, English Christianity can be traced back until at least the second century, surviving the departure of the Roman forces and remaining until the arrival of Augustine. Indeed, it is clearly recorded that Romano-British bishops, such as Restitutus, attended the Council of Arles in 314. It would seem that the Church in England was an influential body from its very early days.

It was, however, the Gregorian Mission, pursued as it was with vigour, that really gained ground in winning converts and in fostering a greater unity between England and Rome. Much of the work of closer integration and expansion was made possible by the Benedictine missionaries whose continental Rule, became over time, closely imbedded in English culture. The English Church, not without difficulty and dispute, went from strength to strength and by the early middle ages was not only a prominent feature of society but imbued every aspect of it and was intertwined with the daily life of kings and paupers alike. England boasted a remarkable number of convents and monasteries and with the rise of the new religious orders in the 12^th and 13^th centuries this extended still further. The rise of the schools ensured the intellectual development of Church in England, whose influence spread far abroad, but other aspects of Christian society were no less notable, such as welfare for the sick and poor through the provision of hospices and infirmaries connected to the religious institutions. Art, architecture, music, literature – all flourished and bore the distinctive imprint of English Catholicism. By the late 15^th century the English Church was a vibrant and powerful force, deeply aware of its past, and of how firmly it was imbedded in the Latin Church, which it could not fail to see as Universal. Above all, it was a Church whose doctrine of the communion of saints, deep prayer and devotional life for both the living and the dead, and awareness of the sacramental economy permeating daily life, could not easily be swept away by the subsequent Reformation and successive persecutions that followed.

Whilst it would be foolish to see the English Reformation as anything less than a thoroughgoing dismantling of the institutions of the Catholic Church, and its impact as nothing less than devastating, we must be aware that throughout the see-sawing of the religious landscape of the reigns of Henry VIII, Edward VI, and Mary, a significant proportion of the population continued to stand for the faith and to practice whether in public or private. Although by Elizabeth’s reign the Catholic population, repressed and denied its legitimacy, could only be said to be a minority it could not be wholly expunged. A new era had begun and one in which the bravery and steadfastness of those who held to the faith would become legendary under penal conditions. English Catholicism adapted to its new and hostile circumstances by going largely underground and re-establishing its organisational centres abroad from which missionary activity ceaselessly flowed.

The Stuart era was marked with an increasing tolerance towards Catholics, albeit interspersed with occasional and deadly purges, and the accession of the Catholic King, James II in 1685, brought with it a renewed hope for English Catholicism, in at least that an era of religious tolerance had begun. However, the Glorious Revolution of 1688 deposed James and the Protestant reign of William and Mary began. Though not entirely invisible, English Catholicism in the period 1688 until the early 19^th Century was at a distinctly low ebb. Politically and culturally it was far from view save for some notable exceptions such as Alexander Pope and the great recusant family the Howards, Dukes of Norfolk. Though legislation against Catholics became more lenient in this period it was not until 1829, when Parliament passed the Catholic Emancipation Act, that almost equal civil rights were granted, including the right to vote and to hold most public offices.

This Act together with significant demographic changes in England, such as mass immigration from Ireland in the 1840’s and 1850’s, dramatically changed the nature of the Church in England; indeed, some would see the latter half of the nineteenth century as a ‘second spring’ for English Catholicism. Multiple factors were at work here; a new found freedom from repression; a wave of catholic immigration; the subsequent Restoration of the Catholic Hierarchy by Rome; a renewed interest in Catholic theology and philosophy (with all its manifold implications) courtesy of the Anglican Oxford Movement; a steady stream of converts from Protestantism, not least Blessed John Henry Newman. In fact the stream of intellectual and artistic converts in the late 19^th and early 20^th century is considerable. A few of their names make for a distinguished roll-call; Augustus Pugin, Gerald Manley Hopkins, Graham Sutherland, G.K Chesterton, Hiliare Belloc, Ronald Knox, Siegfried Sassoon, Evelyn Waugh, Edith Sitwell, Muriel Spark, Graham Greene, Edward Elgar, and J.R.R Tolkien.

The first half of the twentieth century was undoubtedly one of renewed confidence for the Church in England. The number of clergy rose sharply from the beginning of the century from just under 3000 to a peak of 7,500 in 1971, but this in turn had decreased to 4,400 by 2010. An aging clerical population has brought with it many challenges and many parishes have been affected by this across the 22 dioceses of England & Wales. Though annual vocation rates have been variable in recent years there would seem again to be a strong sense of confidence in the English Church, not least among the young. The Papal Visit of 2010 bore strong witness to this, and though English Church will undoubtedly face many challenges to its beliefs and institutions in the coming years the sense of hope is strong. There are currently just over 4 million Catholics in England & Wales, and if there is one thing that history teaches us, it is that English Catholicism runs deep in this land and it will not easily be trampled or ignored. Our Lady’s Dowry remains; it is now for every Catholic to play their part in continuing to perpetuate and grow England’s devotional, cultural, and intellectual Catholic heritage, for the ages to come.

The Catholic Church in Norway

When speaking of the Catholic Church in Norway, we soon discover that we are dealing with two rather distinct periods of time. The first stretches from 8th century until the reformation, the second from the middle of the 19th century until our days, this was when the country opened its borders to the Catholic Church and to religious life. The Protestant Reformation came to Denmark and Norway in 1537 and resulted in a rupture of the Christian faith in a region where the Catholic Church had been present in and determinant for the society for more than 500 years. For Catholics raised in Norway, this fact has always had a major impact on the feeling of identity and roots, and even for the Lutheran State Church and other Free Churches, the origin of Christianity has gradually become more popular. We will then have to say a few words of Norway's conversion to Christianity.

There are traces of missionary activity towards the Scandinavian countries from before the 9th century, maybe even earlier. For Norway’s part, the conversion from paganism rooted in the Norse mythology to the Christian faith accelerated in a period when Norway also began to consolidate to become one Kingdom. But it wasn’t until the patron of Norway, Saint Olav, began his conversion of the people that the Christian faith began to get a foothold in the country. Olav Haraldson, which was his full name, had converted to Christianity in his youth, and he got baptised at Rouen in Normandy in France after having stayed there one winter. In 1015, he returned to Norway, claiming the throne of Norway. He had a diplomatic nature, and offered the petty kings and the aristocracy to be liberated from their pagan beliefs (as well as accepting him as king) or get liberated of their heads. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many chose the first alternative.

But turning Norway into one kingdom could not be achieved without battles, and during the battle of Stiklestad in 1030 he was killed. But his death also became the decisive factor for achieving what he had struggled for during his life. After his death, people soon considered him to be a saint, miracles happened at his grave, and he was posthumously given the title Rex Perpetuus Norvegiae -Norway's Eternal King. This was the beginning of the new era for the Catholic Church, and churches, monasteries and priories soon was established from Moster in south to Loppøya in north.

For ethnic Norwegians, cradle Catholics and converts, as well as for second or third generation immigrated Catholics, these historical roots are important and create a profound bond of identity and a feeling of being on old grounds. And in addition to this, there are large groups of working immigrants and groups of refugees coming from all over the world. A normal Norwegian Catholic parish may count about fifty different nationalities, some have over a hundred. This multinationality sometimes reminds us of Pentecost, and is a daily reminder of what the word ‘Catholic’ really means - universal!

Even though we consist of many nations, we are still few in numbers. In the Nordic countries there are 24 million inhabitants. Of these we count officially about 250, 000 Catholics. But even though we are small in numbers, we stand in a tradition that goes beyond both time and place. The local Catholic Church always stands in a larger context, both geographically, culturally and historically. Theologically we confess a universal faith based on a coherent doctrine followed by a sacramental practice that carries within it a spiritual strength that often opens doors for searching souls living in a secularised society. Therefore, there is no reason for pessimism; we only need courage to meet the many needs of men and women of our society, and strength to proclaim the Gospel in a context where there is no longer any immediate access to the faith. The situation can sometimes remind us of the dialogue between the apostle Philip and the Ethiopian treasurer, as Philip asked the man if he understood the Scriptures: ‘How can I, unless someone guides me?’ (Act 8,26). Let us then pray to Saint Olav for his intercessions for the spreading of the Good News also in this part of the world.

The Catholic Church in Russia

The most significant date in the Christianisation of the Eastern Slavonic peoples is the baptism of St Vladimir by missionaries from Constantinople in 988, from which Russians, Ukrainians and Byelorussians generally consider the Christian history of their countries to have begun. However, there were certainly Christians in those areas before that date, including Western Christians from what is now Germany and Hungary. Furthermore, the schism with Constantinople in 1054 did not immediately cut off the links between the Russian Church and Western Christians: we see this not least in a series of dynastic marriages, including the marriage of Great Prince Vladimir Monomakh to a daughter of King Harold II of England who had fled to the continent after the Norman Conquest.

By the time of the reassertion of Russian identity after the overthrow of the Mongols in the 14th century, however, the break between East and West was clear, and the Catholic presence in Russia was limited to a few foreign traders resident in Moscow and Novgorod.

Catholics came to Russia in large numbers in the 19th century as a result of the westward expansion of the Russian Empire into traditionally Catholic lands such as Poland and Lithuania: indeed, the arrival of Catholics in Siberia is tied in large part to the waves of Poles exiled there after the Polish uprisings of 1830 and 1863.

Church of St Catherine of Alexandria, Nevsky Prospekt, St Petersburg

There also arose in the late 19th century an interest in Catholicism in certain intellectual and aristocratic circles in Russia, not least as a result of the willingness with which the Orthodox Church appeared to submit to total control by the state. This movement, in fact, had a Dominican connection: once conversion to Catholicism was legalised in 1905, some of those from this circle who converted founded a Lay Dominican group in Moscow, as well as a community of Dominican sisters.

Hopes of greater religious freedom after the revolution of February 1917 were dashed by the October Revolution, and by the end of the 1920s there remained only two Catholic churches on the territory of what is now Russia, kept open for diplomats in Moscow and Leningrad. Many Catholics, clergy, religious and laity, were persecuted and martyred, and this persecution continued with varying degrees of intensity up to the 1980s (it should not be forgotten that other religious groups faced similar persecution, though Catholics were a particular target, as in China today, because they belonged to a worldwide organisation which the Soviet state could not even attempt to control).

Despite such persecution, however, many Catholics retained their faith, though without the opportunity to practise it: by the 1970s, there were also clandestine priests who had come to Russia from other parts of the Soviet Union and who were able to celebrate the sacraments in secret for those willing to take the risk. These underground Catholics maintained good relations with the dissident movement in the Orthodox Church, led by such figures as Fr Alexander Men, who attained huge popularity despite Soviet attempts to silence him.

Consecration of the altar of a new church in Tuapse, 2005

The changes of the early 1990s brought a new freedom for Catholics to practise their faith: many who had preserved the faith in secret came “out of the woodwork” to establish Catholic communities and parishes, and priests and religious came from around the world to help re-establish Church life. Efforts were made, with varying degrees of success, to reclaim churches confiscated after 1917, but the State often proved rather less willing to assist Catholics than Orthodox, so that in many places Catholics have either had to build new churches, if they have the money, or continue to worship either in a converted flat, as they do in the parish looked after by Dominicans in Yaroslavl, or even in the front room of a parishioner.

The chapel of the Catholic parish in Yaroslavl

Relations with the Orthodox are somewhat tense, with the Orthodox accusing Catholics of “proselytism” especially where they are engaged in charitable efforts beyond the Catholic community (e.g. running children’s homes or shelters for the homeless), which are perceived as attempts to convert ethnic Russians, who, as the argument goes, should by rights be Orthodox. Basically, it seems that the Orthodox (and the Russian state) will tolerate the Catholic Church as an “ethnic chaplaincy” to Poles, Lithuanians, Germans and other traditionally Catholic nationalities living in Russia, but they are very nervous about anything more than that. The establishment of four fully-fledged Catholic dioceses in Russia in 2002 was a low point in relations, though things do appear to have improved since then.

Meeting of the local Catholic and Orthodox bishop, Kazan 2009

The most generous estimate of the number of Catholics in Russia puts it at about 0.5% of the population. It is statistically insignificant, of course, but in such a huge country (the estimated total population is 143,000,000), that still means 789,000 Catholics.

As for the life of the Catholic community, the small numbers of Catholics in any one place and the great distances in Russia pose a particular problem for the maintenance of viable communities, and especially for priests ministering to them: the parish I lived in in Russia (I spent a year there as a languages student before I joined the Order) was bigger than Wales, and the furthest Mass station from the church, which a priest visited once a month, was a 500km round trip! Nevertheless, as so often in places with very small Catholic populations, the sense of community is strong, and the life of the parishes very active. Many parishes have communities of religious sisters living and working in them, but a significant proportion these, as well as of the priests, are still from outside Russia: the seminary in St Petersburg admits a reasonable number of seminarians each year, but it will take a long time to build up a local clergy to serve the 420 parishes in Russia, having started from so few in 1990.

Despite the various difficulties, then, the Catholic Church continues to grow in Russia, seeking to share the Good News in a country deprived of religion for over 70 years, but trying to do so in a way that respects as far as possible the thousand years of Christian history which went before.

The Catholic Church in the Philippines

For centuries, the Philippines could proudly proclaim itself 'the only Christian country in Asia'. East Timor's independence in 2002 and the recent decades of evangelisation in South Korea, China and elsewhere may have altered the demographics somewhat, but the Philippines is still the major Catholic hub of the region. Over 80% of its population of some 90 millions is Catholic; the rest consists chiefly of various Protestant denominations, the Mormon-inspired Iglesia ni Cristo (INC), and Muslims (especially in Mindanao to the south). Moreover, the Filipino diaspora is enormous, perhaps 11 million by some estimates. This means that Filipino Catholicism cannot be ignored as something distant and exotic; Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) are already enriching the life of parishes across North America, the Middle East, the UK and many other countries, and the trend is likely to increase.

Christianity first came to the Philippines when Magellan landed in 1521, but it was not till the 1560s that Spanish political rule began to be established. The country was named after the Spanish king, Philip II – Las Islas Filipinas – and the name has stuck. The Spanish spirit is evident in much of Filipino history, religion, language and culture. The religious orders from Spain, especially the Dominicans, Franciscans and Augustinians, evangelised large swathes of the country, established educational centres (the University of Santo Tomas, run by Dominicans, is the oldest university in Asia), and sent missionaries to even the remotest regions. Sadly, they would eventually become so wealthy and powerful that the Revolution in 1896 would have 'friarocracy' as one of its chief targets. At that time, the Philippines' national hero, Jose Rizal, painted a dark picture of the friars in his novels.

Yet, the history does not end there. Philippine 'independence' in 1898 and the period of American control until WW2 saw a large influx of Protestant missionaries as well as the construction of schools and basketball courts everywhere. The Spanish language began to cede to English and the Catholic Church encountered a new plethora of Christian denominations. The Filipino Catholic Church became more authentically Filipino, now that native men and women no longer faced the imperialistic and racist prejudice that had barred them from religious or priestly life in earlier times. In fact, the story of how the first native Filipino priests and nuns bravely and patiently overcame those prejudices from the seventeenth century onwards is told by Luciano P. R. Santiago in The Hidden Light (1987), and To Love and to Suffer (2005). To anyone who feels their religious vocation is being thwarted by external factors, these inspiring histories will demonstrate that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.


So, what is Filipino Catholicism like today? The Catechism for Filipino Catholics identifies five broad characteristics and relates each to Jesus Christ himself. First, Filipinos are family-oriented; they relate well to the Santo Niño, both as Son of God and Son of Man, and are devoted to his mother, Mary. Our Lady of Manaoag and Our Lady of La Naval draw many thousands of pilgrims each year to their shrines, both under Dominican care. The Blessed Virgin appears according to the Spanish fashion with billowing gown, as seen in this forest of Marian images exhibited in a shopping mall in 2009.

Second, Filipinos are meal-oriented, being known for their hospitality; so they relate strongly to the Eucharist. Since spending a year as a Dominican volunteer in Manila, one of the most moving images I know is this Last Supper, captioned Hapag ng Pagasa (Table of Hope), showing Jesus breaking bread with the children of the slums.

Third, Filipinos draw spiritual sustenance even from sufferings in life, especially from the wounds of sacrificial love; so Christ as the Suffering Servant is an extraordinarily popular image of God to them. Good Friday is dramatically marked with Passion plays in the streets (the Senakulo) and the churches are packed for services of the Seven Last Words. More extreme penitential practices, such as flagellants in the streets and even voluntary crucifixions in some rural parts, persist among some people despite being actively discouraged by the bishops. But it is Hesus Nazareno, the famous image of the suffering Christ, that elicits perhaps the most striking devotion when, on 9 January every year, millions of men and women flood Manila's streets for an incredibly emotional, and at times dangerously crushing, procession.

Fourth, they relate to the idea of a hero who will not settle for an unjust status quo but upholds dignity and the ultimate triumph of goodness: Christ as priest, prophet and king (Cristo Rey) is the hero who has ultimately defeated sin and death by his Cross, and thus the Kingdom of God is already among us. In 2009 I joined a Christ the King procession in Manila which lasted for more than three hours.

Fifth, Filipinos are spirit-oriented, holding strong beliefs in supernatural beings of all kinds; they relate to Jesus as a healer and exorcist, who sends his Holy Spirit to dwell in us and bind us together in fellowship. To an outsider these beliefs may appear superstitious at times, but through the Gospel the Filipino Catholic will always prioritise the person of Jesus Christ, whom we worship 'in spirit and truth'.


Filipino Catholicism, then, has come to conscious maturity by accepting and celebrating both its native and Spanish roots. This is clear from the style and popularity of devotions and practices such as great processions, wakes, block rosaries, and the remarkable Simbang Gabi, or Missa de Gallo, the nine days of 'dawn' masses (actually around 4am) leading up to Christmas. The cult of the saints is wonderfully vibrant, too. The first Filipino saint was a Dominican lay associate, San Lorenzo de Ruiz, martyred in Japan in the seventeenth century; despite suffering horrific torture, he declared at his death, 'If I had a thousand lives, I would offer them all to the Lord.' Christian art and architecture historically in the Spanish style is now created in a modern, inculturated, Filipino mode. A lovely example is this new icon of San Lorenzo, commissioned for the priestly ordinated of our brother, fr. Lawrence Lew OP, last September.


Catholicism permeates Filipino society, through its schools and universities, its concern for social justice, and its deep orientation towards the family – the 'domestic church'. On the one hand, the Catholic Faith is challenged in the Philippines, as elsewhere, by the destabilising forces of globalisation, secularisation, and the encroachments of proselytising non-Catholic groups, especially among the poor. But, on the other, each challenge brings new opportunities for growth and a revitalisation of the Catholic culture. Whereas Protestant churches and the INC have been quick to develop media channels for their messages, the Catholics are only just emerging from complacency with such initiatives as 'The Word Exposed', by the newly installed Archbishop of Manila, 'Chito' Tagle, or the recent film about the life of St Dominic. Thankfully, there are countless lay associations and ministries, such as the Catholic Women's League, the Urban Poor Ministry, or the Lay Dominicans, doing wonderful work at every level.

Institutionally, in fact, the Church is powerful in the Philippines. This has drawbacks: bishops are sometimes too closely allied with political camps, and so on. But the Church's prophetic voice is equally significant. The bloodless 'People Power' revolution that toppled the Marcos dictatorship in 1986 was called by the late Jaime, Cardinal Sin, and witnessed religious sisters in the front of the massive crowds on the EDSA highway, facing down the army with only rosaries to defend them.

It may be tempting to think the Philippines is thriving spiritually and should instead prioritise economic prosperity and social justice. This would be admirable, but no panacea. Measures of reform cannot lead to social flourishing unless they first take root in people's hearts. The Kingdom of God begins with repentance. So the Philippines, no less than any of our so-called 'secularised' countries, has a spiritual mission to pursue: to maintain the Church's 'preferential option for the poor' in the fullest sense by making the Gospel find life among the people.

The story of the Smokey Mountain illustrates this well. This infamous rubbish dump in Manila smoulders like Gehenna, yet thousands of people live in the area, usually scavenging for their livelihood. In the 1980s, crime, alcoholism and drug abuse were rampant among the communities; but things improved when Basic Christian Communities (BCCs) were established, led by brave and compassionate priests. The BCCs simply gathered to study the Bible and discuss their problems; in 1989, a parish was erected. The reduction in crime and substance abuse over just a few years was astounding.

Now, the problems have not been eradicated – the Mountain still smokes – but the point is clear. Spiritual renewal is the only way to create meaningful transformation in our lives. And that is where we can learn a lot from the Catholic Church in the Philippines.

The Catholic Church in Rwanda

Before their evangelisation, Rwandans believed in one God, Imana. This rich cocktail of Semitic and Bantu people had come to realise over centuries that only one magnificent being was the ruler of the universe. When missionaries entered the Rwandan kingdom to evangelise it, they were misled by people’s belief in the power of different ancestors and thought they were evangelising a polytheistic kingdom. It took a few years to have a few Rwandan theologians who would then explain that Imana could be used to mean the same God missionaries might have thought they brought to Rwanda. As John Mbiti wrote,” The missionaries who introduced the gospel to Africa in the past 200 years did not bring God to our continent. Instead, God brought them” (http://www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=1746).

The first Catholic Church parish was inaugurated in 1900. The first missionaries were priests from the congregation of the Missionaries of Africa, also known as White Fathers. From the beginning, the Catholic Church had the support of the colonial powers (Germany till 1916 and Belgium, officially, from 1919 to 1962). It is nowadays unsustainably believed in Rwanda that missionaries have contributed to the ethnical and social divisions that might have occurred in the first half of the 20^th century. This would be a very much debatable statement.

The Catholic Church grew and strengthened herself very quickly: the Bible was translated into the national language (Kinyarwanda), nine dioceses were created. Schools, universities, banks were started by Catholic Religious orders and the diocesan clergy. Rwanda became one of African countries with the highest percentage of the Catholic population. In the early 1980s, a very rural and poor village of Rwanda, Kibeho, experienced the apparitions of the Virgin Mary. Today, two shrines are built there and Rwandan Catholics go there today to regret what was to follow in the early 1990s.

When Rwanda got its independence in 1962, the Catholic Church remained dangerously close to the civil power that ruled over a divided population. Divisions among clergy members started and only a few Christians chose to resist the temptation to adopt hatred over the fraternal love they had been taught by the Church. When the civil war started in October 1990 those divisions increased. In 1994, the country experienced one of the worst human bloodbaths of the 20^th century: the Rwandan Genocide. Almost a million of people were killed in less than 100 days. Hundreds of thousands were slaughtered in churches, sometimes betrayed by the priests who had offered to hide them. The killings ended with the death of four Catholic bishops, hundreds of priests, members of religious orders and hundreds of thousands of Christians. Most of those were executed by fellow Christians. All those who remained were traumatized; either by what they endured or what they made their brothers and sisters undergo. Among two millions who left the country for Congolese refugee camps, more than three quarters were Christians. Hundreds of thousands died on their way to and from those camps. Today, the percentage of the Catholic Christians is less than 55%. It is said that many people left the Catholic Church after experiencing the lack of true love and care among its members inRwanda.

Despite all those hardships, many Catholics did not lose faith and kept their hope in the resurrection of a church that had lost many of her children. They looked at those who kept their faith and gave their lives protecting targeted fellow Christians. Indeed, dozens of Catholics protected the lives of hundreds people. Some of those were killed trying to shield them. They are already national heroes and the Church is still waiting for the beatification of some of them. Among them one would mention Sister Félicitée Niyitegeka and Father Jean-Bosco Munyaneza

http://www.winne.com/rwanda/bf05.html

The Rwandan Catholics try to understand what went wrong in the evangelisation they received from the missionaries. Today, an important place is given to the personal encounter with the Gospel, through spiritual directions, retreats and healthy debates in small Christian communities. The institutional church, which remains close to the power to a certain degree, tries to facilitate the reconciliation process among her children. An African theology is being done by Rwandan scholars who realised that they quickly assimilated a foreign way of thinking about their Christian faith, considering their roots as evil and demonic. The current issues in the Rwandan theology – as in the any other African theology – make them undertake a reconciliation of its African ethics of respect to all living beings and the ancestors with the evangelisation that they received from the West after it had gone through centuries of European acclimatization. Ecumenism is also being strengthened in Rwanda and any effort to slow it down is viewed as a yearning to return to the dark years of hatred. If the Catholic Church wants to rehabilitate its image in Rwanda, she owes to the Rwandans to be an example, starting by reconciling herself with other Christian churches and major faiths, with which actually she never had major issues or wars in Rwanda, contrary to what is found in the history of many other countries.

Catholics in Rwanda are recovering from their past and their celebrations are joyful, colourful and thousands of noted liturgical hymns in the national language are written every year especially by seminarians. Vocations to religious life and to priesthood are increasing again and one might expect a rebirth of a sweet and melodiousCatholic community from the bitter ashes of her past.

Here is a video of a thanksgiving hymn (in Kirundi) by a Dominican choir from Bujumbura in Burundi, a neighbouring country. After decades in war, the Dominican Vicariate of Rwanda and Burundi helps the youth to reconnect with God through local music.

By Br. Gustave Noel INEZA OP

The Catholic Church in Scotland

The Catholic Faith was established across Scotland in the middle of the first millennium, principally by Celtic monks, including St Ninian (d c 450) and St Columba (d 597). The church was renewed and brought into more substantial unity with the then continental expressions of Catholicism under St Margaret (d 1093) and her sons, 3 of whom were Scottish kings. The church abandoned Rome by parliamentary act in 1560 and after a turbulent and often violent period of struggle between Presbyterians and Episcopalians for around 120 years, the Presbyterian polity underpinned by Calvinist theology, was given legal status as the National Church of Scotland. This remains the case though the Church of Scotland is no longer officially wedded to Calvinism and the culture is increasingly secular. Some areas of Scotland, in the Highlands and islands, remained Catholic throughout and are still very Catholic to this day. However, most of the current Catholic population has come from waves of immigration, most notably from Ireland from the middle of the Nineteenth century onwards.

Scotland currently has a population of about 5.2 million people. The often mountainous terrain means the people are concentrated in the central built from Glasgow to Edinburgh spreading in the east up to Dundee. Beyond that and Aberdeen, the population is scattered diffusely. Of this total, in 2009 the RC church estimated its population as about 643,000 (12.3% of total) though the most recent government national census indicated a significantly higher figure, above 16% of the population. Of these about 175,000 ( 27.2% of Catholics seemingly known to the Bishops) come to Mass on a weekly basis. These numbers are almost exactly half of the figure in 1984, though the rate of decline has slowed in recent years. It is still a matter of very serious concern. Most denominations have suffered – some far more badly - and the current Catholic numbers put us on a roughly equal footing with the Church of Scotland for weekly church attendance, and far above any other religious group of any sort. But the real trend is towards religious apathy and secularisation and this needs addressing. Virtually all baptisms are of babies and children, and more ought to be done to evangelise the adult population.

There are 8 dioceses, vastly different in size and Catholic population, making up the Scottish Bishops’ conference. The Catholic population is not spread evenly. It is concentrated in the west end of the Central belt. The dioceses of Glasgow and Motherwell have the highest Catholic populations but are the second and third smallest in area respectively. Overall there are 452 parishes and 740 priests, including retired ones, are based in Scotland. There has been a reduction in vocations in recent years, resulting in all seminarians now being trained outside Scotland, mainly in Rome. This presents a challenge. Lay participation in the church is almost entirely voluntary and unpaid and I think more could be done to educate and train the laity and develop their capacity and often great willingness to contribute to the life and work and witness of the church.

In areas of sufficiently dense Catholic population – which means the Central Belt – the state provides Catholic Primary (age 5-11) and Secondary (11-18) Schools. The state pays for them and the Church controls the RE curriculum and other areas of ethos and policy effected by the faith, and has to approve all teaching appointments. Though many of the children do not practice, it is a great opportunity to introduce them to the Gospel and form them in Catholic values, and nurture committed faith. However, if this is to happen, the real situation of young people, the lack of parish participation, and the corrosive nature of much of modern culture needs to be taken seriously in order to develop and provide effective programs and pastoral strategies.

The Catholic Community is noted for its close knit communities, its respect for church authority, a positive vision and valuation of creedal orthodoxy, a direct and often bold way of addressing social issues and presenting the Catholic case, especially on moral issues, but also for a real practical concern for justice, and compassion and generosity, demonstrated in lots of practical projects. At the same time it still tends to be a bit marginalised or feel trapped, especially among older generations. This is partly due to the problem of sectarianism, which has steadily been addressed in recent years and in general is reducing in its impact. Catholics in Scotland, increasingly feel Scottish in identity which, with the emergence of devolution, a Scottish Parliament and the growing possibility of independence, means the Catholic contribution to this land may be about to enter a new but significant phase. The present situation thus presents both opportunities but also threats. Whatever happens politically it is vitally important that Catholics learn how to respond to secular and relativistic materialism, by deepening their faith, maintaining strong communities but ones equipped and confident to go and evangelise and to transform society with the Gospel. Hopefully, the Dominicans can contribute to this work: we currently have houses in Edinburgh and Glasgow, and run university chaplaincies in these cities and also in Aberdeen, as well as involvement in parish and prison ministry. Oh, for more labourers to send into the vineyard!

The Catholic Church in the United States: One Faith, One Church, Many Customs

The Catholic Church in the United States traces its roots to several countries around the world. Unlike the Church in Africa or Europe, where Christianity grew into its current form through the preaching of first-generation Christians, the Church came to the U.S. already vibrant, shaped by generations of the faithful from places like England, Ireland, Spain and France. And unlike other lands where only a handful of religious missionaries spread the Gospel among native populations, many Catholic immigrants came to the U.S. to build communities and continue their way of life. As a result, local churches in the States have many unique qualities distinguishing them from each other.

For example, were one to travel through the southwest region, from Texas to California, one would see the influence of Spanish architecture brought by missionaries who settled the region and built churches and schools. In Louisiana and up the Mississippi River, one encounters French-styled buildings and parishes tracing their lineage back to Colonial France. Irish settlers brought a distinct sense of Catholic tradition through New York and into the midwestern region. In the midst of these larger settlements, Italian, German and Polish immigrants, and many from East Asian countries made homes and built parishes throughout the country.

Even today people refer to “the Polish parish” down the road or “the Vietnamese parish” across town. While each parish celebrates Mass in union with the Universal Church, each community has its own customs, such as the Italian community’s St. Joseph Altar. Such customs, traditional folk music, and other rituals enhance the richness of Catholic life in the U.S. These ethnic parishes and distinctive customs also unite generations of descendents back to their ancestral homes around the world.

These differences of culture do not change the fact that we are all Catholic. In some cases, older and more successful parishes will welcome smaller ethnic groups into the fold, fostering their growth and learning from new members. These immigrant communities, many of which embrace the faith as core to their identity, often bring to the larger parish a renewed appreciation for Catholic traditions.

 Education is perhaps the most successful impact of the Catholic Church on the culture of the United States. Initially envisioned as a way to ensure Catholic children received an education centered in Christian values, many Catholic schools became premiere institutions in their field. For example, thousands of alumni owe their success to Providence College (Providence, Rhode Island) and Fenwick High School (Oak Park, Illinois), both founded and served by Dominican Friars. Additionally, many parochial schools offered children of all faith traditions a solid education in preparation for college.

The Church in the United States is diverse. Yet, we profess the same faith; share the same communion with our brothers and sisters throughout the country and worldwide; and work together to evangelize, serve the poor, teach, and even reach out to newcomers making a home in our country. In a country threatened by differences in political ideology and suffering constant attack on the moral life, many faithful of all ages and ethnic backgrounds unite as one Christian community by holding to the Catholic faith and passing the Gospel to our children and neighbors.

The Catholic Church around the World

In the coming weeks, members of the Godzdogz team will be sharing their experiences of the Church in different parts of the world, aspart of a new series of posts exploring different expressions of Catholic faith and life from across the globe.

Although individual Dominican friars are ‘sons’ of a particular province, we are members of a worldwide order, and may be called upon to exercise the ministry of preaching outside of our ‘home’ province, for- as our constitutions remind us – the preaching of the Good News of Jesus Christ to all the nations is the duty of the entire order (LCO §108). Although the majority of English Dominicans work in England and Scotland, sons of our province are currently working as far afield as Iceland and the United States, and the Province has maintained a presence in the Caribbean since 1901, with brothers currently assigned to apostolates in Grenada and Barbados. Some of the Godzdogz team are hopeful that a visit to the brethren in the West Indies will feature as part of their formation in the not too distant future!

As members of an Order whose motto is veritas (‘truth’), however, wherever they go, Dominicans are tasked to preach the same Good News of Jesus Christ, the saving message of hope found only in Truth Himself, Jesus Christ. Yet though we confess the “one hope of ourcalling, one faith, one baptism, one Lord, one God and Father of all” (Eph4:4-5), we often do so in remarkably different ways. As Pope Paul VI recognised in his Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, the preaching of the gospel is not an ‘implantation’ of one culture into another as if it were a foreign body, but a process through which the gospel of Christ ‘takes flesh’ and organic root in the varying social and cultural histories of the nations, without ceasing to be the same Truth proclaimed by the Church throughout the world. The preaching of this same truth, therefore, often takes different forms: different social traditions are reflected in Christian worship, and different cultural imagery and language is necessary to communicate the gospel effectively.

At the same time as this mutual enrichment of Church and cultures, there is often a more challenging dimension to the relationship between the Church and the particular culture it serves. Sadly, not all political regimes grant Christians the legal freedom to practise their faith, a freedom that we enjoy, and often – I suspect – take for granted. Moreover, each local Church faces its own particular challenges and is presented with its own unique opportunities, and as such the local Bishop (acting as Pastor of his Diocese) has considerable leeway to determine pastoral priorities that reflect “the joys and the hopes, the fears and the anxieties” of the people of God in his diocese.

We hope that the series of reflections that follows will reflect some of the joyful colour of the Church’s rich diversity, as well as some of the challenges faced by our brothers and sisters throughout the world.