Nun Of That Nonsense, Thank You...

Sorry about the post title. It was either that or "Nuns on the Run", so I think you'll forgive me...

There is a bit of a kerfuffle across the pond among the leaders of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) because the investigations by the CDF and the American Bishops have concluded that the sisters have pretty much lost the plot, doctrinally-speaking.

They're not being criticised for their good works, or stuff like that. They're finally being held to account for the lack of fidelity to Church teaching. When you have groups of nuns advocating the ordination of women or acting as client escorts at abortion clinics, then it is pretty obvious that something is very, very wrong.

Of course, in true feminist fashion, the LCWR is protesting against this discrimination by a male hierarchy. After all, it is soooo unfair to expect religious orders to follow Church teaching... They mobilised some support, and their supporters decided to start a twitter hashtag: #whatsistersmeantome. Unfortunately the vast majority of faithful Catholics think that the LCWR is long overdue a reality-check, and can't help comparing the angry, bitter, liberal nun-types with more traditional and faithful orders of nuns.

With the encouragement of Fr. Z, people started to use the hashtag to give examples of true religious vocations, sisters who have been canonised, religious orders which are flourishing... and all of them have one thing in common: fidelity to the Magisterium of the Church...

Proper nuns - the Fransiscan Sisters of the Immaculate

The British Preoccupation With Weather...

The British are supposed to be totally fixated on the weather. It is a sort of national characteristic, rather as the Germans are thought to be well-organised early-risers and the French are supposed to be onion-selling cyclists. Foreign language lessons in British schools seems to bear this out - the weather conditions seem to feature heavily in all the language textbooks I've ever seen during cover lessons...

Several years ago I decided that the British preoccupation with weather resulted from the fact that we had so much of it. As an island with a temperate climate, one expects to have seasons. However, we do seem to be rather prone to having four seasons' worth of weather in the space of a week, and occasionally we get the lot in just one day. Speculation on the weather conditions therefore can occur at several points during the day, and the conclusions will not necessarily be the same in the afternoon as they were in the morning.

Given the vagaries of the British weather, you'd think we could cope with pretty much anything nature decided to throw at us, outside anything actually cataclysmic. This is far from being the case. Whatever the weather conditions, you can guarantee the British will be taken by surprise.

Snow is always a good one. It snows here most years, round about winter time, for about a week. It has been known to snow as late as April or as early as November, When the snow actually falls is immaterial, as is the length of time the weather forecasters have been warning of its arrival. For the week that the snow falls, the country grinds to a halt. The explanations are varied, but generally boil down to "nothing worked because it was the wrong type of snow."

I said we had seasons. Britain has a lot of trees, and in Autumn all the deciduous trees shed their leaves. This is a fascinating process, and it is also predictable. However, the rail network has more than once ground to a halt because of "leaves on the lines." Not whole trees, mind you. Just some wet leaves. The wrong type of leaves, you understand...

We do get some good weather. But as soon as the sun shines for more than a week, we hit problems. At the moment, we have drought warnings all over the south of England. There is a hosepipe ban in force. The fact that this is turning into the wettest April for goodness knows how long (with flood warnings being issued left, right and centre) is immaterial - it is, apparently, the wrong type of rain...

We are all guilty of using too much water, according to the water companies, and we have depleted the reservoirs and the water table by our indiscriminate washing of ourselves, our clothes and our cars. We also waste far too much on our gardens. The amount of water lost through the water companies' neglect of leaky pipe networks is totally negligible... according to the water companies, that is.

I'm the first person to admit that my knowledge of Geography is sketchy. However, last time I looked at a map, Britain was an island nation. Islands are, by definition, surrounded by large quantities of wet stuff. Surely it is not beyond the wit of Man to desalinate some of the stuff and stick it in some reservoirs? Or is that too simple a proposition?

In the meantime, I have two disgruntled Monsignori staring out of the catflap, trying to avoid looking like this...

Existentialist Angst...

The inimitable Fr. Z sent me a couple of YouTube video links which he thought might amuse me. Henri the cat has a hard life, and ponders the meaning of his existence...

There is also a sequel...

The look of withering contempt given by Henri to the camera is one I see on the face of Monsignor Furretti quite regularly. Maybe it is something to do with being long-haired? Certainly it is not an expression I have observed on Monsignor Miaowrini's face... she is much more likely to be "begging for cheeseburgers" - or rather, for smoked salmon...

From the sublime to the ridiculous. His Hermeneuticalness has been poaching on my territory, posting a picture of a "cat sandwich" - cats with bread on their heads being, apparently, the latest internet craze. I can't see either of the Monsignori being keen on that one.

I wouldn't dream of subjecting my two kitties to such indignities. And anyway, a slice of wholemeal bread is remarkably difficult to balance on a cat's head...

A Celebration Of St. George

We celebrated the Feast of St. George in style at Blackfen. I didn't take photos during Mass as I was singing.

One of the senior servers decided to take the MC's strictures on long black socks to heart, and opted to get his from Gammarelli's in Rome...

After the Missa Cantata at Blackfen, a few of us decided to go for a few drinks at a local hostelry, where we found several St. Georges outnumbering a solitary dragon.

Snacks of Yorkshire puddings with roast beef were brought round for our delectation... sadly we appeared to have missed the Morris Dancers...

St. George & That Dragon...

Someone asked me earlier today whether there really was a dragon slayed by St. George. The implication was that, since church statues always depict St. George with a dragon, then, if the dragon did not really exist, then neither did St. George.

Aha! cries the sceptic: Another myth of the medieval church debunked... and so one can't believe anything that the Church says about saints and miracles...

First of all, I would urge caution about debunking medieval myths. Like the one about St. Peter being buried under St. Peter's in Rome... which turned out to be true... or the one about St. Paul being buried in St. Paul outside the walls... which turned out to be true...

Secondly, there is always the possibility that the dragon is a metaphor - a picturesque depiction of sin or the devil - and it is quite possible that St. George overcame something of that sort, no?

Whatever. The truth of the matter is that, whether it was a real dragon or only a metaphorical one, I don't actually care. St. George is a saint of the Church, and the patron saint of the country in which I was born and in which I live... and tomorrow is his feast day. Personally I think it ought to be a Bank Holiday, but no doubt some Governmental bean-counters would object to "yet another" Bank Holiday on economic grounds, ignoring the fact that working more days for longer hours doesn't actually mean one is more productive.

I shall at least have the opportunity to go to Mass for the feast day...