The musings and meandering thoughts of a crotchety old man as he observes life in the world and in a small, rural town in South East Nebraska. I hope to help people get to Heaven by sharing prayers, meditations, the lives of the Saints, and news of Church happenings. My Pledge: Nulla dies sine linea ~ Not a day without a line.
31 October 2026
Medieval Horror Stories
Traditional Catholic Morning Prayers in English | October
Traditional Catholic morning prayers to lay a strong foundation for the rest of your day! The month of October is dedicated to the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I hope these prayers increase your devotion to Our Lady of the Rosary this month, to help us meditate on the events in the life of Christ and draw us closer to her Divine Son, Jesus Christ. Begin each day with morning prayer! This video is a compilation of many traditional evening prayers Catholics say, and should not be considered a replacement for those who have an obligation to pray the Divine Office morning prayers.
Hallowe'en Was Originally a Day of Fasting
All Hallows' Eve (Hallowe'en) is the Vigil of All Saints' Day, a major feast. Traditionally, the Vigil of all major feasts was a day of fasting.
From Aleteia
By Philip Kosloski
On All Hallows' Eve, Catholics were asked to follow the Church's tradition of observing a fast day before a major feast.
For many children in the United States, Halloween is their favorite holiday of the year. This is primarily the case because of all the candy children get to feast on after going trick-or-treating.
Interestingly, while this secular holiday has become associated with feasting on candy, it was originally a day of fasting in the Catholic Church.
November 1 is All Saints Day in the Catholic Church, and is usually a holy day of obligation. (There is no obligation this year for Catholics in the US, as it falls on a Monday.) All Saints Day is a solemnity, one of the highest ranked feasts in the Church, a day marked with joy and celebration.
For many centuries the Church was accustomed to observe the eve or vigil of a major feast day with a special fast. It followed the ancient saying that you should "fast before you feast."
The Catholic Encyclopedia explains a bit of the history behind this tradition.
In the first ages, during the night before every feast, a vigil was kept. In the evening the faithful assembled in the place or church where the feast was to be celebrated and prepared themselves by prayers, readings from Holy Writ (now the Offices of Vespers and Matins), and sometimes also by hearing a sermon ... In place of nocturnal observances, the bishops introduced for the laity a fast on the day before the feast ... The Synod of Seligenstadt (1022) mentions vigils on the eves of Christmas, Epiphany, the feast of the Apostles, the Assumption of Mary, St. Laurence, and All Saints.
The day prior to All Saints (October 31) was observed as a day of fasting for many centuries, all the way through the first half of the 20th century, as is mentioned in the Catholic Encyclopedia of that era. "In the United States only four of theses vigils are fast days: the vigils of Christmas, Pentecost, the Assumption, and All Saints."
It may seem strange to modern ears that Halloween was a day of fasting, but Christians in previous centuries saw this day as a day to prepare their hearts for the celebration of All Saints.
30 October 2026
A Matter of Honor: Princess Marthe Bibesco and Chivalric Love
Princess Bibesco, a convert from Orthodoxy, was often maligned in the press for "affairs" she supposedly had. In reality, she was a faithful wife.
From One Peter Five
By Robert Lazu Kmita, PhD
A woman of the world such as is rarely seen, Princess Marthe Bibesco (1886–1973) was not worldly. Despite the gossip and slander that accompanied her, she strove, with serenity, to follow the truth of the Catholic Faith, which she embraced on 18 April 1912 under the spiritual guidance of AbbĂ© Mugnier (1853–1944). Despite her distinction, the affairs attributed to her relationships with some of the leading figures of the political world during the interwar period often saddened her. Such was the case with her friendship with Crown Prince Wilhelm III of Germany (1882–1951).
Probably no other relationship of Princess Bibesco’s received more attention than this one. The fact that, during a visit to Germany in 1908, Marthe Bibesco and her husband, Prince George Valentin Bibesco (1880–1941), rode in the prince’s car through the Brandenburg Gate—a privilege reserved for members of the German imperial family—demonstrates the esteem in which they were held. Episodes such as this could not go unnoticed in the press of the time, which began to invent stories. Setting aside the fake news, I would like to recall here a note from Princess Bibesco’s personal journal. It is an act of honor in defense of Prince Wilhelm III and, at the same time, a lesson concerning one of the most neglected virtues of the Christian medieval world:
Evil tongues say that he [Prince Wilhelm III] was my lover. It is not true. I was never his mistress. It was something entirely different. But whom could I tell? No one would believe me if I said so. Chivalric love is a sentiment that no longer has any value, like gold and ancient coins. They are no longer legal tender, no matter how beautiful they are. These pieces become obsolete before they become medals. After that, they acquire another value. The same thing happens with a sentiment that is no longer current and which most people have ceased to believe even exists. And yet, I experienced this sentiment with the Emperor’s son, who might have become Emperor and would not be, unfortunately for him and for me, for the fate of Europe and the world. I return to this sentiment, and I shall return to it without ceasing. There is no other interpretation beyond those I have recounted.
Although often tempted by the scandal-oriented spirit of biographical literature suited to contemporary tastes, Ghislain de Diesbach (1931–2023), author of the first biography of Princess Bibesco in which I was able to read the journal entry quoted above, was visibly impressed by this evocation of chivalric love. He stated that the slanders which sought to see carnal eroticism where there was pure friendship were false. And we, today’s readers, can experience the astonishment of encountering such a testimony.
The whole of Christian medieval literature is characterized by a continual oscillation between the carnal love in which many of the worldly troubadours—alas!, all too worldly—delighted, and the noble chivalric love exemplified in Tolkien’s favorite tale, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. The entire literary and poetic heritage of that world retells the ascent of the sinner Augustine, confessed in the Confessions, to the heights of Christian love for the King of the Universe, Jesus Christ. Likewise, Dante Alighieri, author of the ultimate poem, The Divine Comedy, would experience, through conversion, the sublimation of his passionate love for Beatrice into the humble recognition of the holiness of his guide along the paths of Paradise.
But it is not only the Christian world that speaks of what Princess Marthe Bibesco calls “chivalric love.” We may recall that even the pagan Homer, in what might be called a true Praeparatio Evangelica, describes in the Odyssey the fidelity of Ulysses, who passes through the most terrible temptations in order to return to his lawful wife. All these masterpieces, like many others of their kind, speak of a love that belongs just as much to the daughters of Eve as to the sons of Adam. Princess Marthe Bibesco reminds us of this—something that today has been almost completely forgotten.
In a world in which the word “love” is applied indiscriminately to every kind of passion, but especially to guilty forms of it, she teaches us that there are impulses of the heart that do not involve the carnal dimension culminating in eroticism and sex. What is at issue is solidarity, friendship, a wonder-filled delight of the kind Aristotle said was the beginning of Philosophy. Just as the person who begins to delight in contemplating divine Wisdom undergoes a metamorphosis that elevates him, so too those who admire personalities endowed with exceptional virtues and qualities can experience similar sentiments.
The capacity to recognize the superiority of certain actors in history can thus give rise to such experiences. And Princess Bibesco knew how to admire those leaders and creators as different from one another as Kings Carol I and Ferdinand of Romania, Winston Churchill, Lord Thomson of Cardington, the poet Paul Claudel, and General Charles de Gaulle. And whenever rare opportunities allowed her to meet them in person, enduring friendships were more than once born, founded upon profound mutual respect. Beyond that respect, however, at the root lies the chivalric love celebrated by Tolkien in The Lord of the Rings.
We may share the Princess’s skepticism. Yes, in today’s world, this sentiment of hearts faithful to Our Lord Jesus Christ, is often invisible. Hidden, ignored, and sometimes even mocked, it shines through an absence that makes us believe it does not exist. And yet such a testimony can awaken us from our sad slumber. It reminds us of that form of virtuous solidarity which is, in truth, friendship. Disinterested, altruistic, and ready to recognize the excellence of the other, it is possible only where there is a person capable of diminishing himself in order to elevate the one endowed with the virtues proper to his station. Princess Marthe Bibesco was such a person.
Pictured: Princess Marthe Bibesco in 1920
Vigil of All Saints
Let us prepare our souls for the graces heaven is about to shower upon the earth in return for its homage. Tomorrow the Church will be so overflowing with joy that she will seem to be already in possession of eternal happiness; but today she appears in the garb of penance, confessing that she is still an exile. Let us fast and pray with her; for are not we too pilgrims and strangers in this world, where all things are fleeting and hurry on to death? Year by year, as the great solemnity comes round, it has gathered from among our former companions new saints, who bless our tears and smile upon our songs of hope. Year by year the appointed time draws nearer, when we ourselves, seated at the heavenly banquet, shall receive the homage of those who succeed us, and hold out a helping hand to draw them after us to the home of everlasting happiness. Let us learn, from this very hour, to emancipate our souls, let us keep our hearts free, in the midst of the vain solicitudes and false pleasures of a strange land: the exile has no care but his banishment, no joy but that which gives him a foretaste of his fatherland.
With these thoughts in mind, let us say with the Church the Collect of the Vigil.
PRAYER
O Lord our God, multiply thy grace upon us; and grant us in our holy profession to follow the joy of those whose glorious solemnity we anticipate. Through our Lord.
Let us close this month as we opened it, by homage to Mary, Queen of the holy Rosary, and Queen of all the Saints. The ancient Dominican Missals furnish us with a formula.
In the virginal garden, the young shoots of spring push forth, and burst into blossom with fruitful abundance.
The frost and the winter have passed away, the snow and the rain are over; and roses spring up on earth from a heavenly seed.
The rose has produced a lily; during the whole time of her exile she gathered the produce of her Son’s garden:
Joy for the just, and justification for sinners, glory for the elect, salvation for all.
The gifts Christ brought from heaven, and the sufferings he endured on earth, he bestowed upon the world when he overcame the world.
He sheltered under the rose-tree’s foliage, he was wounded by the thorns, he was crowned with its flowers; thus does he call us, purify us, reward us.
Because of the leaves and thorns and flowers of the rose, we shall enjoy the delights of that rich land, where she, the fair cultivator resides.
The empress, who joyfully presides over our militant companies, and over the nine choirs of the triple hierarchy.
Hail! thou, who by a new triumph dost repair the loss we sustained, when the enemy triumphed in the first combat.
See how again he threatens fierce revenge; unless thou oppose him, every Christian must perish.
Hail, home of the Word, sanctuary of the Holy Ghost, daughter of the most High Father!
In the various perils of this life, bring us unfailing assistance against the darts of the enemy.
May lilies intertwined with roses from the garden of heaven, be our crown of victory after the combat. Amen.
The Vigil of All Saints: The True Meaning Behind Halloween | On Holiness and the Occult
St Wolfgang, Bishop of Ratisbon
RADERUS derives this saint’s pedigree from the most illustrious families of Suabia; but the ancient author of his life published by Mabillon assures us, that his parents were of a middle condition in the world. He was a native of Suabia, and at seven years of age was put into the hands of a neighboring virtuous ecclesiastic; but some time after removed to the abbey of Richenaw (in Latin Augia) founded by Charles Martel in 724, near Constance, united in 1536 to the bishopric of Constance. This monastery was at that time a most flourishing school of learning or piety, which furnished many churches with eminent pastors. In this house our saint contracted an intimacy with a young nobleman called Henry, brother to Poppo, bishop of Wurtzburg, who had set up a great school in that city, and engaged an Italian professor, called Stephen, to leave his own country to give lectures there. It was Wolfgang’s earnest desire never to know any other employment but that of Mary, and to spend his life in the contemplation and praises of his Creator. But Henry, who was charmed with his virtue and other great qualifications, could not bear to be separated from him, and prevailed upon him to bear him company to this new school at Wurtzburg. Once when a difficult passage in an author raised a contest among the scholars about the sense, Wolfgang explained it with so much perspicuity and evidence, that in all perplexing difficulties the rest had recourse to him, rather than to the master. This raised in him a jealousy against the saint, and made him many ways persecute him. Wolfgang, by silence, patience, and meekness, made his advantage of all the contradictions and humiliations he met with, thinking no happiness greater than the means and opportunities of subduing his passions, and gaining a complete victory over himself. But observing how easily petty jealousies, envy, resentments, vanity, and other dangerous passions prevailed among both masters and scholars, he lamented to see those who professed themselves lovers of wisdom, so much strangers to it, and more addicted to the meanest and most ungenerous passions of the human mind than the most ignorant and boorish among the common people; so that, perverting their very studies and science, they made them the means, not of virtue, but of sin, and the nourishment of their most dangerous passions, for want of studying to know and perfectly vanquish themselves, without which even the best food of the mind is converted into the worst poison. What can poor scholars do in such a school, but contract from their tender years the contagious spirit of the masters by their example and conversation? The misfortune of others, (which was the more grievous by the usual blindness that attended it,) and the sight of his danger of falling insensibly into the same, served the more to alarm the saint; who was therefore more watchful, and kept the stricter guard over all the motions of his own heart; and whilst, by tender charity, he studied to be blind to the faults of others, he judged and condemned himself the more severely. In the apprehension of his own weakness, he was desirous of finding a holy monastery of mortified religious men, sincerely dead to the world and themselves, whose example might be a spur to him in the necessary duty of dying to himself without dangerous temptations or trials. But such a society is not to be found in this life; it is even necessary that our patience, meekness, and humility be exercised by others here, that they may be made perfect. Nor is there any company of saints in which trials fail. This is the very condition of our hire in the divine service, and of our apprenticeship to heaven. We can never be like the angels and saints; we can never bear the image of God, unless by humility, patience, and meekness, we learn perfectly to die to ourselves; nor are these virtues to be learned, or the spirit of Christ to be put on, but by bearing well contradictions. Henry perceived this inclination of Wolfgang for a monastic life, and engaged him to serve his neighbor; and being himself chosen archbishop of Triers in 956, he pressed the saint to accompany him thither.
Wolfgang could not be prevailed upon to take upon him any other charge than that of a school for children; and afterwards that of a community of ecclesiastics, with the title of dean; in both which posts he succeeded to a miracle, and to the edification of the whole country, in planting the spirit of Christ in those that were committed to his care. Upon the death of the archbishop of Triers he made some stay with Bruno, archbishop of Cologne, but could not be prevailed on to accept of any bishopric, and retired soon after to the monastery of Enfilden, governed at that time by George, an Englishman, who had left his own country to serve God in silence and mortification. The abbot soon found the reputation of Wolfgang to be inferior to his merit, and appointed him director of the school of the monastery, which, under his care, became the most flourishing in the whole country. St. Ulric, bishop of Ausburg, in whose diocese this abbey stood, ordained St. Wolfgang priest, in spite of all the opposition his humility could form. With his ordination the holy man received an apostolical spirit, and having obtained his abbot’s leave, in 972, went with a select number of monks to preach the faith to the Hungarians. The success of this undertaking seemed not sufficiently to correspond to his zeal; but the bishop of Passaw detained him some time, and, by a private message recommended him to the emperor Otho II. as a person of all others the best qualified to fill the see of Ratisbon, which was then vacant. To put a cheat upon the saint’s humility, the emperor ordered him to repair to Ratisbon as if it had been for some other affairs. When he arrived there, the archbishop of Salzburg, and several bishops of the province were ready to receive him, and to see the election duly performed by the clergy and people. He was then put into safe hands, and conducted to the emperor at Frankfort, who gave him the investiture of the temporalities, though the saint entreated him on his knees to allow him to return to his monastery. Being sent back to Ratisbon he was consecrated and enthroned. He never quitted the monastic habit, and practised all the austerities of a religious life when in possession of the episcopal dignity. The first thing he did in it, after an excellent regulation of his own conduct and household, was to settle a thorough reformation among all his clergy, and in all the monasteries of his diocese, especially the nunneries of Obets Munster and Nider Munster; disorders in the sanctuary being of all others the most pernicious, and of the most fatal influence. He was indefatigable in preaching, and, being a man of prayer, possessed powerfully the art of touching the hearts of his hearers. Every other duty of his station he discharged with extraordinary vigilance and fidelity during twenty-two years’ administration. The poor had always the greatest share in his table and revenues, though in his profuse charities he seemed to conceal from his own left hand what his right hand gave. The time which was not taken up in business, he consecrated entirely to the strictest silence and retirement; and he employed a considerable part of the nights in devout prayer. Not content with this, he sometimes retired into some remote cell for a time and once lay a long time concealed in a wilderness, that by heavenly contemplation he might repair and nourish his own soul. Good part of Bohemia being part of his diocese, he found it too extensive, gave up a great part of his revenue to settle a bishopric in that country, and procured St. Adelbert to be placed in it. Henry, duke of Bavaria, held this good prelate in the highest veneration, and intrusted to him the education of his four children: these were, St. Henry, afterwards emperor of Germany, Bruno, who died bishop of Ausburg, Gisela, queen of Hungary, and Brigit, who, renouncing the world, died abbess at Ratisbon. The virtue and eminent qualifications of all these princes and princesses made many say: “Find saints for masters, and you will have holy emperors.” We ought to pray that Christ send us such holy prelates, and we shall see the primitive splendor of the church restored. He was taken ill in a journey of charity, and died at Pupping, in Austria on the 31st of October, 994.* His body was brought to Ratisbon, and deposited in St. Emmeran’s church. His name was enrolled among the saints by Leo IX. in 1052, upon the testimony of many miracles, and his relics enshrined by order of the same pope. See his life written by a disciple in Mabillon, Sc. v. Ben. p. 812; Hundius, Hist. Eccl. Metrop, Salzburgens; Aventin. Ann. Boior. Raderus in Bavaria Sancta, t. 1, p. 94.
St Quintin, Martyr
From his Acts in Surius, written in a good style, before St. Eligius’s time, but later than Nestorius. The author assures us, that he compiled them from a history written by one who was present at the first translation of the martyr’s relics, fifty-five years after his death. But the author has added certain circumstances from popular traditions, with a fertur; which are not of equal authority. Other Acts of St. Quintin, but of an inferior stamp, are given us by Claude Hemere, in his History of the Town of St. Quintin’s. See Tillemont, t. 4, pp. 433, 436, 700.
A. D. 287.
ST. QUINTIN was a Roman, descended of a senatorian family, and is called by his historian the son of Zeno. Full of zeal for the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and burning with a holy desire to make his powerful name and the mysteries of his love and mercy known among the infidels, he left his country, renounced all prospect of preferment, and, attended by St. Lucian of Beauvais, made his way to Gaul. They preached the faith together in that country till they reached Amiens in Picardy, where they parted. Lucian went to Beauvais, and having sown the seeds of divine faith in the hearts of many, received the crown of martyrdom in that city. St. Quintin stayed at Amiens, endeavoring by his prayers and labors to make that country a portion of our Lord’s inheritance. Desiring nothing so earnestly as to destroy the kingdom of the devil, that the name of God might be glorified he besought the Author of all good, without ceasing, that he would infuse his saving knowledge and holy love into the souls of those to whom he announced the divine law. God made him equally powerful in words and works, and his discourses were authorized and strongly recommended by great numbers of miracles, and illustrated and enforced by a most holy and mortified life. The reward of his charitable labors was the crown of martyrdom, which he received in the beginning of the reign of Maximian Herculeus, who was associated in the empire by Dioclesian, in the year 286. Maximian made Rictius Varus prefect of the prtorium: for though Augustus had appointed but one prtorian prefect to judge causes and receive appeals from all the provinces of the empire, in the reign of Dioclesian, each emperor appointed one, so that there were four prtorian prefects, according to the number of emperors that then reigned together. But Constantine the Great was the first who made this number regular, and determined the districts and jurisdiction of these supreme magistrates of the Roman empire. Rictius Varus, whose hatred of the Christian religion has stored the Martyrology with lists of many illustrious martyrs, seems to have resided at Triers, the metropolis of the Belgic Gaul. But, making a progress into the Second Gaul, when he was near Soissons, he had intelligence of the great progress the Christian faith had made at Amiens, and resolved to cut him off who was the author of this great change. When he arrived at Amiens, he ordered St. Quintin to be seized, thrown into prison, and loaded with chains. The next day the holy preacher was brought before the prefect, who assailed his constancy with promises and threats; and, finding him proof against both, ordered him to be whipped unmercifully, and then confined to a close dungeon without the liberty of receiving either comfort or assistance from the faithful. In two other examinations before the same magistrate, his limbs were stretched with pulleys on the rack till his joints were dislocated; his body was torn with rods of iron wire; boiled pitch and oil were poured on his back, and lighted torches applied to his sides. The holy martyr, strengthened by Him whose cause he defended, remained superior to all the cruel arts of his barbarous persecutor, and preserved a perfect tranquillity of mind in the midst of such torments as filled the spectators with horror.
When Rictius Varus left Amiens, he commanded Quintin to be conducted to the territory of the Veromandui, whither he was directing his course in his return. The capital of that country was called Augusta Veromanduorum. In this city of the Veromandui the prefect made fresh attacks upon the champion of Christ, with threats and promises; and being ashamed to see himself vanquished by his courage and virtue, caused his body to be pierced with two iron wires from the neck to the thighs, and iron nails to be struck under his nails, and in his flesh in many places, particularly into his scull; and, lastly, his head to be cut off. This was executed on the 31st of October, in 287. The martyr’s body was watched by the soldiers till night, and then thrown into the river Somme: but it was recovered by the Christians some days after, and buried on a mountain near the town; fifty-five years after, it was discovered by Eusebia, a devout lady; and a certain blind woman recovered her sight by the sacred relics.1 The knowledge of the place was again lost in the persecution of Julian the Apostate, though a chapel which was built near it remained, when in the beginning of the year 641, St. Eligius, bishop of Noyon and the Vermandois caused the holy relics to be sought; and when they were discovered, together with the great nails with which the body had been pierced, he distributed these nails, the teeth, and hair, in other places, and enclosed the rest of the sacred treasure in a rich shrine of his own work which he placed behind the high altar, as St. Owen relates in his life. A new stately church of St. Quintin was built in the reign of Louis Debonnaire, and another translation of the relics was made on the 25th of October, 825.2 They were removed to Laon for fear of the Normans, but brought back on the 30th of October, 885, and are still kept in the great church, which was in the hands of monks from the time of Ebertran, the first abbot, till these were afterwards dispersed by the inroads of the Normans. In the following age, secular canons were put in possession of this famous church. Another church was built here in the honor of St. Quintin, in the place where his body had been concealed during fifty-five years, in an island in a marsh formed by the river Somme. It became a famous monastery, now in the hands of the Benedictin monks of St. Maur: it is called St. Quintin’s in the Island. St. Quintin’s on the Mountain, a mile from Peronne, is another monastery of the same congregation, founded by Eilbert, brother to Herbert, count of Vermandois, in the seventh century. From the time of the translation of the martyr’s relics in the reign of Louis le Dbonnaire the town has taken the name of St. Quintin’s.*
Martyrdom, when we are called to it, is an homage we owe to God, and a debt due to faith and religion. Happy are they whom God, by a special grace, allows to seal their fidelity to him by their blood! How great is the honor and happiness for a poor mortal man, and a poor sinner to lay down his mean miserable life for Him, who, out of infinite love for us, gave his most precious life! Martyrs are holocausts offered to the divine love and glory. They are witnesses, as the word imports in the original Greek, bearing testimony to the infinite power and goodness of God, in which they place an entire confidence, and to the truth of his holy revealed faith, which they confirm with their blood. No testimony can be more authentic, more glorious to God, more edifying to the faithful, or more convincing to infidels. It is by the constancy of martyrs that our holy religion is established. God was pleased to choose it for one of the means by which he would accomplish this great work. Are we witnesses to God and his holy religion, at least by lives of self-denial, meekness, and sanctity? Or do we not rather by a contrary deportment disgrace his holy church, of which we have the honor to be members, and expose his adorable name to the blasphemies of infidels.
Collect of St Wolfgang of Ratisbon (Regensburg), Bishop & Confessor ~ Indulgenced on the Saint's Feast (See Note)
According to the Apostolic Penitentiary, a partial indulgence is granted to those who, on the feast of any Saint, recite in his honour the oration of the Missal or any other approved by legitimate Authority.
V. O Lord, hear my prayer.
Let us pray.
O Lord, we beseech Thee, hear the prayers which we offer Thee on the solemnity of Blessed Wolfgang, Thy Bishop & Confessor and by the interceding merits of him who worthily attained to serve Thee, absolve us from all our sins.
Collect of St Quintin, Martyr ~ Indulgenced on the Saint's Feast (See Note)
According to the Apostolic Penitentiary, a partial indulgence is granted to those who, on the feast of any Saint, recite in his honour the oration of the Missal or any other approved by legitimate Authority.
Let us pray.
Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God: that the venerable feast of Blessed Quintin, Thy Martyr, may through his intercession be strengthened in love of Thy Name.
Considerations on the Cardinal’s Considerations
From Crisis
By Msgr Richard C. Antall
The DDF’s new document Venite ad me deliberately avoids “terminological precision,” and it misses the real story. “Epochal change” is not the problem; the failure of faith is what it is all about.
The Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith has produced Venite ad me, subtitled “Considerations on the Transmission of the Faith in an Epochal Change.” The document is supposedly the response of the Dicastery to appeals by both Pope Francis and Pope Leo confronting the decline of the Catholic Faith, especially in countries traditionally “Catholic.”
There are some strange notes in the document, which is the usual anthology of quotations from papal discourses and encyclicals. “One final clarification concerns the document’s genre: it is a set of Considerations, not a Doctrinal Note.” Its purpose is to “stimulate ecclesial reflection.” “A variety of points of view” are examined, “without, however, claiming to settle the matter.” Unlike other documents coming from the Dicastery, the “Considerations are not marked by…terminological precision and systematic treatment.”
It is as if the umpire chose to give tips about batting without getting too “technical.” His job is to get technical. The Dicastery is supposed to be a referee, not a player in the game. The deliberate exclusion of terminological precision and systematic treatment is strange.
I was reminded of what G. K. Chesterton wrote in Orthodoxy about criticisms of doctrinal specificity:
Venite ad me is true to its avoidance of precision in several statements that raise the eyebrow. For instance, there is a riff about Jesus “showing a special predilection for all those who expect almost [you have to love the qualifying ‘almost’] nothing from anyone…perhaps not even from the God of the Covenant of the Fathers” (no. 17). When the Syrophoenician woman insists on pleading with Jesus for the cure of her daughter, he says to her, “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you desire” (Mt 15:28). This does not look like a predilection for someone who expects nothing from God.Here it is enough to notice that if some small mistake were made in doctrine, huge blunders might be made in human happiness. A sentence phrased wrong about the nature of symbolism would have broken all the best statues in Europe. A slip in the definitions might stop all the dances; might wither all the Christmas trees or break all the Easter eggs. Doctrines had to be defined within strict limits, even in order that man might enjoy general human liberties. The Church had to be careful, if only that the world might be careless. This is the thrilling romance of Orthodoxy.
The document seems to discount the specifically soteriological: He brings the “light of a divine love that seeks to reconnect each person with their own troubled existence, with others in their community, and ultimately with God himself—with a view to a fraternity marked by justice and peace.” Where does the eternal salvation aspect fit into this vision? When Jesus said to the Good Thief, “this day you will be with me in paradise” (Lk 23:43), I don’t think he was only reconnecting [love the re-connecting] the man with his own troubled existence, or at least not primarily.
Another problem has to do with precision, but it is a precision that I find dubious. The document is emphatic in saying, “The Church does not engage in proselytism” (quoting Pope Benedict XVI). The word proselyte is found in the Bible and means stranger. It referred to those outside the community who became part of the people of God. It has been given a negative connotation but really is about converting. This last is now a word that is discouraged by the liturgists. A priest came from a workshop telling me that people of other denominations who want to become Catholics should never be called “converts.” Venite ad me says that the way the Church finds new members is by the power of “attraction.” This seems to discount evangelization. St. Paul didn’t bring Christ to people by his charm, but by his preaching.
The document has a pastoral aspect in that it includes some sharing of personal experiences. One section quotes a Jesuit priest AimĂ© Duval about his experience of prayer in his family while growing up. He was impressed by his father’s kneeling in prayer and by his admonition not to say the prayers rapidly. It is a poignant touch, but the document presumes that we know that AimĂ© Duval was a priest-singer who composed his own songs and sold millions of records. My impression is that he was like Jacques Brel but with a collar. The document says his memories of family prayer came “in the context of recounting his troubled personal and religious journey.” Turns out that Father Duval wrote a memoir about his drinking problem and was very active in Alcoholics Anonymous, details the document didn’t bother to inform us about.
A precision that I don’t understand is about what is called the concept of “epochal change.” Pope Francis made the phrase famous in some remarks to the Roman Curia in which he asserted, “What we are experiencing is not simply an epoch of changes, but an epochal change. We find ourselves living at a time when change is no longer linear, but epochal.” This seems like one of those catch phrases, like “a synodal Church,” which means something beyond the words themselves.
“Epochal change” is “not linear.” To me the meaning is not obvious, and yet “epochal change concerns the establishment of a new relationship between faith—and thus its transmission—and cultures.” That new relationship is not defined in the document although “one characteristic feature of the epochal change…that is, those countries in which the Christian faith has held a dominant sociological significance—concerns the crisis in the intergenerational transmission of the Christian faith.”
Handing on the faith has always involved “intergenerational transmission.” The word “cultures” above also calls for attention. There is no mention of the decline of faith as a broad cultural phenomenon. At least since Matthew Arnold wrote “Dover Beach” in 1867, there has been a consciousness of a loss of faith in the world. “The Sea of Faith / Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore / Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled. / But now I only hear / Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar.”
The falling away of many from Catholic families, and the catastrophic decline in the sacraments, not only baptism, but also marriage and priestly ordination, make me think of Jesus’ question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Lk 18:8). The document does not seem to see the forest for the trees. “Epochal change,” with its hint that the Church has not kept up with change, is not the story; the failure of faith is what it is all about.
The loud, melancholy roar of the sea of faith is not about evangelization techniques or catechesis principally but about relativism, a concept barely touched on in Venite ad me, and epistemology. Pilate’s question, “What is truth?” has echoed down the centuries, but never as loudly as in Western culture today. People doubt everything, not just the words of some of the Church’s leaders.
There is little philosophic reflection in the document, nothing of Thomistic vision and little engagement with how the present situation was already diagnosed before Pope Francis came to the chair of Peter.
I think of philosophers like Leszek Kolakowski who saw the intellectual antagonism of faith and what we associate with the Enlightenment ideals and especially of H. Richard Niebuhr who spoke about Christ and Culture in terms of five categories: Christ Against Culture, Christ of Culture, Christ Above Culture, Christ and Culture in Paradox, and Christ the Transformer of Culture. Niebuhr was critical of the first four, which seems to indicate an endorsement of the fifth. One does not expect Niebuhrian analysis from the Vatican, but at least some indication that a confrontation with the culture beyond the individual has something to do with the state we are in.
The testimonies at the end of the document are interesting in their variety, but really do nothing to elucidate the problem of faith in our time. They are pastoral pericopes, not religious philosophy. Venite ad me is more preaching (and that overlong) than teaching.
There is something else off-putting about the thing. It seems to try to give the essence of the magisterium of Pope Francis (a rather mixed bag), who is cited 43 times in a document of 144 paragraphs. Is this a term paper dedicated to Cardinal Fernández’s patrons? It is obviously the work of a group. I imagine a little beehive of scribes who love to make prose of a mosaic of citations which some of them have written. Each one is happy his ceramic pieces are pasted on the mural but not concerned about the way the piece of writing has wandered from its supposed purpose.
But “where there is no vision, the people perish” (Prov 29:18).
Horror and Holiness for Halloween
By Joseph Pearce
Should Christians spurn the cult of the dead which seems to possess millions of people in the weeks leading up to Halloween? If so, should they also spurn anything creepy on All Hallows Eve? Should they boycott Halloween altogether, keeping their eyes focused on the great feast of All Hallows on the following day? These are good questions. Perhaps, however, we might ask another question before we rush to hasty answers. What about the older tradition of telling ghost stories at Christmas? What about the haunting of Scrooge by the ghost of Jacob Marley and the visitations of the three holy ghosts of Christmas who bring Scrooge to his festive senses? Presumably, nobody is suggesting that Dickens’ great ghost story should be banned or boycotted during the Christmas season? If so, might we concede that there’s a place for spookiness and perhaps, therefore, a place for creepy stories on Halloween? If so, what sort of spookiness? What sort of creepy stories? To put the matter simply, can there be any connection between the morbid and macabre fascination for horror and the goodness, truth and beauty of Christian literature?
The easiest way to answer this last question is to return to the example of Dickens’ tales of horror and holiness as a way of answering in the affirmative. How then do we discern the holy from the merely horrific?
First and foremost, there must be no ambivalence or ambiguity with respect to which side we should be on. In all healthy horror stories, there’s no sympathy for the devil, nor any affinity with his disciples. “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood,” St. Paul reminds us, “but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”
Taking St. Paul as our starting point, we might say that healthy horror stories involve principalities and powers; they include demonic darkness and the devices of the devil; but also, and crucially, they show the defeat of such powers by those who serve the divine forces of goodness, truth and beauty. In healthy and holy horror stories, the Divine defeats the devil.
Having shone the light on the darkness, we can begin to recommend some good ghost stories and some healthy and holy horror stories for our Halloween reading.
There is no better place to start than Beowulf, the Anglo-Saxon epic, in which the eponymous hero fights no fewer than three demonic monsters. Written almost certainly by a Benedictine monk, this classic tale of good versus evil contains some important theological lessons, not least of which is the necessity of God’s supernatural assistance in the fight against the forces of darkness.
No holy Halloween should be divorced from the awareness of the deadly darkness of sin, nor the fact that the devil lurks in the darkness. There is no better way of keeping this in mind than accompanying Dante as he descends into the Inferno. In order to escape the dark wood of sin in which he finds himself at the beginning of the story, Dante needs to confront each of the seven deadly sins by meeting the damned souls in hell who have allowed themselves to be destroyed and overthrown by these sins. There but for the grace of God goes he. And there but for the grace of God go we.
And there but for the grace of God goes Christopher Marlowe, whose Doctor Faustus tells the story of a scholar’s pact with the devil. Faustus sells his soul to Lucifer in return for magical powers and, assisted by the demon Mephistopheles, is granted his prideful desire for self-empowerment and self-gratification. In the final climactic moments of the play, Faustus grapples with his conscience but, failing to repent in time, is damned.
It’s always good to find time for Marlowe’s great contemporary, William Shakespeare, and Halloween is no exception. Perhaps we might spend time with the Ghost of Hamlet’s father who burns in purgatorial fires because he has been murdered in his sleep with unconfessed sins on his soul; or, if we want to delve deeper and darker into sin than the purgatory of Hamlet, we can plunge into hell with Macbeth. We can watch his heart and mind being poisoned by the three demonic witches, and then we can see how he and Lady Macbeth are possessed by a demonic lust for power.
Having suggested some literary classics, let’s conclude with some contemporary fiction filled with hellish horror mixed with hints of the Holy Ghost. This Thing of Darkness by K.V. Turley and Fiorella de Maria mingles grotesque fact with phantasmagoric fiction, telling the story of Bella Lugosi, the Hollywood actor famous for his playing of Count Dracula, who seems to be possessed by the presence of the role he played. The gothic novels of Eleanor Bourg Nicholson, A Bloody Habit, Brother Wolf and Wake of Malice, mix the morbid and the macabre with the saintly presence of a Dominican friar, Fr. Gilroy, who is himself a mix of the priest detective and the exorcist.
The final recommendation for Halloween reading is anything by the incomparably quirky Tim Powers, a Catholic writer of the weirdest fiction, whose novel On Stranger Tides inspired The Pirates of the Caribbean film series. His novels, and there are simply too many to mention, interweave demonic possession with page-turning plot-twists, set in the past, the present or the future, and sometimes all three at once. Always, however, there is the presence of grace, combined with the deepest respect for the dignity of the human person, made in the image of God. Tim Powers is at war with the principalities and powers, exercising his great gift of storytelling to exorcise the demons who seek to attack the dignity of men. His work, and these other recommended works, remind us of the truth enunciated by Samwise Gamgee, that greatest of diminutive prophets, that above all shadows rides the sun.
__________
The featured image is “Tamara and Demon” (1889) by Konstantin Makovsky, and is in the public domain, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
.jpg)




