St. Petroc Returns To Devonshire
And: Chris Rufo, The Right's Culture-War Napoleon, Has A Strategy
I lead today with some very good news. A few months ago, I commissioned an icon for my friend Martin Shaw, of St. Petroc, his patron saint, about whom:
St. Petroc was probably born in the second half of the fifth century in south Wales and was a son of king Glywys of Glywysing (now Glamorgan). After the death of his father, St. Petroc firmly refused to share power with his brothers and decided to dedicate all his life to the service of God. The saint went to study in Ireland together with several companions, where, according to some sources, he spent about 20 years. In Ireland St. Petroc became so experienced that he himself instructed the future saint Kevin of Glendalough. From Ireland St. Petroc then sailed to Cornwall where he was very active as a missionary. He first settled at the mouth of the River Camel at a place called Trebetherick and soon founded nearby the monastery of Padstow which was to become the most famous in Cornwall.
Petroc converted many through his missionary travels, and did much labor for the Lord in Devon, where Martin lives. More:
Throughout his life the saint had a deep love for the Holy Scriptures; wherever he went, he always healed the sick and worked many miracles. The solitary life in seclusion was also dear to his heart; thus, in his youth he lived as a hermit with St. Samson, another great Celtic saint of the age. Like many other saints of the British Isles, St. Petroc had a very close connection with nature, especially with wild animals. All versions of his life claim that Petroc had tame wolves among his companions. On stained glass windows St. Petroc is often depicted with a deer, because according to tradition, he particularly loved and protected these animals, more than once saving them from hunters.
An early manuscript describes Petroc as “handsome, courteous in speech, prudent, modest, burning with unceasing love, always ready for all good works for the Church.” St. Petroc often visited the monasteries and churches that he had founded, being an exemplary and tireless pastor despite his extremely old age. The holy Abbot Petroc reposed during one such journey at a place called Treravel. This took place either in c. 564 or in c. 594. The venerable abbot was buried at Padstow, which became the main centre for his veneration. Due to the activity of his disciples veneration for Petroc grew. St. Petroc’s church, dating back to the thirteenth – fourteenth centuries, stands on the site of his monastery in Padstow to this day.
Martin converted to Orthodoxy a few years ago — read that story here. Excerpt from the miracle in the sky he saw while sitting in the forest near his rural cottage in the west country of England:
This does not belong to Blakean visionary, or an ayahuasca moment, where I was clearly in an altered state. I was in no kind of altered state when this happened. I just looked up into the sky. It was pitch-black. I don’t remember seeing any of the stars, but suddenly there was this one light that quite rapidly started to get bigger. It was like looking at a firework that was opening up, or almost like the tip of an arrow that’s expanding behind the tip. The colors were very odd, like the colors of the Aurora Borealis, which I had never seen, but I know of them. This is all happening within three to four seconds. Then there was something like a painted arrow shooting out of the heavens. You’re trying to catch up with the impossibility of what’s happening, with the Old Testament-ness of what’s happening. I just stood there frozen to the spot. As truthfully as I tell you now, that Great Light fell into the ground about ten feet away from me. There was no noise.
You can understand that I would be alarmed in a moment like that. It was in the middle of the wood, and it was very cold, below freezing. But the whole thing was so joyous. As someone who has really suffered in the past ten years, as I left my forties, suddenly, the marvelous had happened, the miraculous had happened. So I danced all night, by myself. Then I walked down the hill to my cottage, got into bed, and just as I was closing my eyes – it was very odd, like a news flash, across the darkness of me trying to fall into unconsciousness, were these nine strange words: INHABIT THE TIME AND GENESIS OF YOUR ORIGINAL HOME.
That’s an odd bump. I think if it had said, “Inhabit the time of your original home,” it would have been fine. Or if it had said, “Inhabit the genesis of your original home,” it would have been fine. But the two together? It was shocking. And it alarmed me because it mentioned a word I did not want to here: Genesis.
Martin’s priest assigned him St. Petroc as his patron, for reasons that make total sense if you know anything about Martin. I’m not sure what exactly prompted me to commission an icon of St. Petroc as a gift for Martin, but I’ve lived long enough with the Lord to know not to ignore those inner promptings. So I reached out to the great Italian iconographer Fabrizio Diomedi and made a deal. Fabrizio told me later that he could not inscribe the legend “Inhabit The Time And Genesis Of Your Original Home” on the icon itself, so he would put it on the reverse side. And he did:
Poor old St. Petroc sat for weeks in customs in Milan, but finally arrived in Devonshire this morning, after Martin had to pay a hefty customs duty, which I had not anticipated (he kindly refused to let me pay it, agreeing instead to let me buy us dinner with very fine wine the next time we meet). I hadn’t realized till Martin told me yesterday that his parish follows the Old Calendar, so St. Petroc, which I had intended for him to get before December 25, actually did arrive just in time for Old Calendar Christmas, which comes this Sunday.
Gang, I cannot tell you how happy this makes me to have been able to give Martin such a present, through the hands of the gifted brother in Christ Fabrizio Diomedi, whom I saw last summer in Norcia:
Go to Fabrizio’s website to see more of his work, to buy some, or to commission an icon for yourself. Don’t too many of you go, though — the Monks of Norcia need him to finish work for them! I commissioned this icon of St. Galgano from Fabrizio:
Years back, to commemorate the finishing of The Benedict Option, I commissioned a diptych of St. Benedict and St. Genevieve, two saints on whose intercession I depended during the writing of that book:
How blessed I am through friends like Fabrizio and Martin! We live in a vale of tears, truly, but through faith, brotherhood, and beauty, the Lord lights the way through the darkness. Glory to God for all things!
Christopher Rufo, The Right’s Culture-War Napoleon
I don’t want to overplay the meaning of the defenestration of Harvard president Claudine Gay. To paraphrase Adam Smith, there is a vast amount of ruin left in wokefied American institutions. To topple the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris does not a Reformation make. Still, it was a significant victory. Not Harvard’s $50 billion, nor its boundless reputational capital, could overcome the truth, weaponized in the hands of a team led by the skilled activist Christopher Rufo.
Rufo has just published a “manifesto” for New Right activism. Here’s how it begins:
The Right is reorganizing. Most intelligent conservatives, especially younger conservatives, who joined the political fray at a moment of sweeping ideological change, already recognize that familiar orthodoxies are no longer viable, and that ideas without power are useless. The Right doesn’t need a white paper. What it needs is a spirited new activism with the courage and resolve to win back the language, recapture institutions, and reorient the state toward rightful ends.
This essay will introduce the basic principles of this activism: where it begins, how it might work, and what it must do in order to win. It is not “conservative” in the traditional sense. The world of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century liberalism is gone, and conservatives must grapple with the world as it is — a status quo that requires not conservation, but reform, and even revolt.
We don’t need to abandon the principles of natural right, limited government, and individual liberty, but we need to make those principles meaningful in the world of today. The older conservative establishment, assembling in ballrooms and clubhouses, has marginal influence over public orthodoxy because it lacks the hunger and grit to contest it. The energy is with a new generation which no longer accepts tired platitudes, and demands a new set of strategies geared toward truly overcoming the regime — the opaque and coercive set of psychological, cultural, and institutional patterns that has largely replaced the old constitutional way of life.
This movement is in its youth, and it has the virtue of aspiring to something more than the drab, euphemistic world of “diversity and inclusion”; it has the ambition of re-establishing a political vision that goes beyond procedural values and points toward higher principles.
These are hugely important points:
The first of these substitutes is the self-serving myth of neutrality. Following a libertarian line, the conservative establishment has argued that government, state universities, and public schools should be “neutral” in their approach to political ideals. But no institution can be neutral — and any institutional authority aiming only for neutrality will immediately be captured by a faction more committed to imposing ideology. In reality, public universities, public schools, and other cultural institutions have long been dominated by the Left. Conservative ideas and values have been suppressed, conservative thinkers have been persecuted, and the conservative establishment has deluded itself with impotent appeals to neutrality.
… Finally, the conservative establishment has appealed to the “free marketplace of ideas,” and the belief that the “invisible hand” will rectify cultural and political problems organically. But the formation of culture does not proceed like the production of cars, and cannot be conceived the same way. The chief vectors for the transmission of values — the public school, the public university, and the state — are not marketplaces at all. They are government-run monopolies. In truth, the hand that moves culture is not an “invisible hand” but an iron hand clad in velvet — that is, political force.
See, these are the truths that Viktor Orban understood a while back. He knows this, and he acts on it — which is why the liberal Establishment (including right-liberals) despise him. This is a tough set of truths to deal with for conservatives of my generation and older. For example, on paper, I dislike what Orban did in driving the Soros-founded Central European University out of Budapest. But Orban well understood that the university was by no means a neutral institution. It was to be the center from which the globalist progressive oligarch transformed Hungary, and all of Central Europe, according to his vision. The myth of neutrality, applied in this case, would have meant the end of an independent, conservative Hungary.
Orban understands how this works. American conservatives don’t. But they — we — are learning.
Read it all. Coming on the heels of the victory of Rufo’s Army over Harvard, I’ve not felt this hopeful about being on the Right in a long time.
The Religious Dimension
Here is wisdom from a Catholic professor friend who follows in the way of Mgr Luigi Giussani:
True, and this should warn us about the limits of the possibility of institutional reform. But individuals are looking for a new religion. This is what the quest for re-enchantment is all about. Look forward, to the past, and reclaim it, say I!
‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ Baptisms
Father Timothy Vaverek, a Catholic priest, writes that there is a very serious problem with the changes Pope Francis has made with regard to baptizing transsexuals. This essay explains it. Excerpt:
To summarize: the DDF [the Vatican’s doctrinal office — RD] proposes that baptism (or any other sacrament) shouldn’t be withheld from those desiring it, even if the minister knows or reasonably believes that the person deliberately rejects elements of the faith and life of the Gospel. Seemingly, God will resolve the situation later.
There are grave problems with this.
First, baptismal character and God’s covenant are irrevocable but don’t guarantee entrance into Heaven. To expect otherwise would be sinfully presumptuous because God won’t force fidelity on anyone.
Second, Aquinas didn’t describe character as a “cause disposing one to accept grace” but as a “cause disposing to grace.” For Thomas, this “disposition” is a configuration to Christ that fits (we might say “orients”) a person to life and worship as a member of His Body. It’s not a psychological “disposition” or motivation leading one to accept grace: “character is not imprinted for preparing man’s will [to act well]” (I Sent IV, 4, 3, 2, 1).
Third, conferring baptism based on desire alone departs from apostolic practice by ignoring the need for repentance and belief. That desire must lead to a well-formed affirmation that the catechumen accepts the Gospel proclaimed by the Church and intends to live by it.
Fourth, those who culpably reject repentance or Jesus’ teachings commit sacrilege and presumption by accepting baptism (or any other sacrament), as do the clergy who intentionally or negligently enable them. The Church must help them avoid these sins.
Read it all; if you’re Catholic, this is important. And if you’re not, it’s still important, because it stands for a grave and foundational change in the sacramental system of the world’s largest church. We are witnessing world-historical events, none of them good.
I was reading more of Mary Douglas’s Natural Symbols last night. To refresh your memory, she was a prominent British anthropologist who was also a practicing Catholic. She was strongly critical of some of Vatican II’s changes, not because she was a liturgical traditionalist per se, but because as an anthropologist, she understood that the Council fathers were doing grave damage to the Church on a symbolic level. Human beings communicate at the cosmological level primarily via symbols. By “cosmology,” Douglas means the way people construe the meaning of the world.
You’ll remember this from my quoting her in yesterday’s newsletter. She’s talking about the efforts by some churchmen in the immediate postconciliar period (when she was writing) to dilute the meaning of the Eucharist.
As soon as symbolic action is denied value in its own right, the flood-gates of confusion are opened. Symbols are the only means of communication. They are the only means of expressing value; the main instruments of thought, the only regulators of experience. For any communication to take place, the symbols must be structured. For communication about religion to take place, the structure of the symbols must be able to express something relevant to the social order. If a people takes a symbol that originally meant one thing, and twists it to mean something else, and energetically holds on to that subverted symbol, its meanings for their personal life must be very profound.
Change the meaning of a symbol, and you change the meaning of reality for the people who look to that symbol to communicate and structure reality. Douglas goes on:
Symbolizing does not exhaust the meaning of the Eucharist. Its full meaning involves magical or sacramental efficacy. If it were just a matter of expressing all these themes, symbolizing and commemorating, much less blood and ink would have been spilt at the Reformation. The crux of the doctrine is that a real, invisible transformation has taken place at the priest's saying of the sacred words and that the eating of the consecrated host has saving efficacy for those who take it and for others. It is based on a fundamental assumption about the human role in religion. It assumes that humans can take an active part in the work of redemption, both to save themselves and others, through using the sacraments as channels of grace – sacraments are not only signs, but essentially different from other signs, being instruments.
This touches on the belief in opus operatum, the efficacious rite, whose very possibility was denied by Protestant reformers. In Catholic thought there is an economy of mediation through the Church, through the sacraments and especially through the Mass as the Eucharistic counterpart of Calvary.
Douglas then cites the work of a scholar of the Reformation, talking about the Reformers’ rejection of the Catholic sacramental system:
He goes on to quote Dr J. Lortz, saying:
It was a direct attack on the traditional sacramental concept, that is, against the objectivity of the divine life operative in the Church's liturgy. Here the resolution of Christianity into a religion of inner feeling was achieved at the very point at which its victory would have the greatest impact. Here was assailed the secret centre of the Church's unity. … For the Catholic Church, it was not the attack on the Papacy that was the most fateful event which has happened in the Reformation, but the emptying out from her Mysteries of the objective source of power. (Die Reformation im Deutschland, 2nd edn, i, p. 229, quoted ibid.: 107)
Now, we can argue about whether the Reformers were right or wrong to have believed what they did or to have done what they did. The important point for us is that something radical was achieved by the Reformation’s rejection of the Catholic symbolic system.
Here is Mary Douglas, laying into the Catholic Church’s own postconciliar reformers:
For the writers of popular catechisms and prayer books … prefer to expatiate verbally on their inner feelings, at a cosier, more intimate level. My comparison [of Catholicism] with primitive religions would probably disgust them. Great magical acts of worship, which make humble and noble analogs congruent in ever more inclusive patterns, leave them cold. So we find that the New Catechism, in the chapter on the Eucharist, gives to the doctrine of the real presence only as much attention as it gives to the commemorative aspect of the rite. It says rather more about the Eucharist as a thanksgiving, about the togetherness of the people who celebrate it, and the symbol of the common meal and nourishment. The doctrine of the transformation of the bread into divine body is played down and the other modes of Christ's presence (particularly the ‘Word’) played up (Higher Catechetical Institute, Nijmegen, 1967: 332–47). They can't take it, the Dutch bishops who issued this catechism and the open-minded English teachers who seize on it as a watered-down expression of a faith that has practically lost meaning for them. The mystery of the Eucharist is too dazzlingly magical for their impoverished symbolic perception. Like the pygmies (I say it again, since they seem often to pride themselves on having reached some high peak of intellectual development) they cannot conceive of the deity as located in any one thing or place.
But there seems to be a case for arguing that serious, well-intending pastors misunderstand the need for a nourishing food, because it does not seem to suit their own digestive systems. But this would still not be pitching the case against them strongly enough. There is no person whose life does not need to unfold in a coherent symbolic system. The less organized the way of life, the less articulated the symbolic system may be. But social responsibility is no substitute for symbolic forms and indeed depends upon them. When ritualism is openly despised the philanthropic impulse is in danger of defeating itself. For it is an illusion to suppose that there can be organization without symbolic expression. It is the old prophetic dream of instant, unmediated communication. Telepathic understanding is good for brief flashes of insight. But to create an order in which young and old, human and animal, lion and lamb can understand each other direct, is a millennial vision. Those who despise ritual, even at its most magical, are cherishing in the name of reason a very irrational concept of communication.
The drawing of symbolic lines and boundaries is a way of bringing order into experience. Such non-verbal symbols are capable of creating a structure of meanings in which individuals can relate to one another and realize their own ultimate purposes. These very people, who prefer unstructured intimacy in their social relations, defeat their wish for communication without words. For only a ritual structure makes possible a wordless channel of communication that is not entirely incoherent.
There’s a lot to chew on there. I take Douglas to be saying that within a religion, if one detaches spirit from matter, one has laid the groundwork for the dissolution of the religion. It is undoubtedly the case that a religion that relies entirely on formal rites and acts is at some level dead; the purpose of the Christian religion, at least, is to transform hearts and souls through divine grace. Yet (says Douglas), we err grievously in going too far the other way, in transforming the religion to one of pure inner feeling. To communicate and structure inner feeling requires a symbolic order. This is not a theological point, but an anthropological one with deep theological significance.
What does this have to do with the new Francis changes on baptism? Well, as Father Vaverek says, Catholicism teaches that baptism is no mere symbol — that is, a representation of something believed by members of a community — but also effects an ontological change in a person baptized. According to Catholic teaching, baptism requires intention to repent. (When babies are baptized, it is done so with the understanding that when they reach the age of adulthood, they will accept repentance of their own accord.) Yet, as Father Vaverek points out, the new teaching from Rome holds that no repentance on the part of the baptized transgender person is necessary. To put it another way, to baptize an unrepentant trans person is an indirect but powerful way of saying that there is nothing wrong with the transgendered condition.
To be sure, baptism is not a cure for disordered passions, be they about gender dysphoria, immoderate sexual desire, gluttony, or what have you. What baptism does is provide a beachhead of grace in the soul, so that we have special access to God’s help to repent. The transsexual who presents himself for baptism should only be baptized if he recognizes that his condition is disordered, is ultimately sinful, and seeks sincerely to repent. But now, as Father Vaverek points out, the Vatican has effectively removed the requirement of repentance from baptism, thus effecting a radical change in the sacramental/symbolic system, even though most Catholics won’t notice.
But it’s of a piece with what has happened in Catholicism with reference to the Eucharist. When I became Catholic, I understood that the Eucharist was “the source and summit of the Catholic faith.” To receive Holy Communion is the most sacred act a Catholic can undertake. It is not to be undertaken lightly. This is why confession exists: to cleanse our souls and make us ready to worthily receive the Eucharist. It was genuinely shocking to me, then, to see that the Eucharist was distributed like candy to the congregation. Few people went to confession; almost everybody received the Eucharist.
It was not my place to pass judgment on these people, but the lesson this taught me, a new Catholic, was that the Catholic clergy don’t believe the Eucharist is what the Church says it is. How could they, and behave that way? I made it my own practice to follow the Church’s teaching, and only to go to communion when I had had a recent confession — a practice that is still followed in Orthodoxy, incidentally. It was shocking, but not surprising, to see the 2019 poll result showing that only one-third of American Catholics believed in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. The Church teaches the Real Presence in its formal doctrine, but the symbolic meaning of everybody receiving communion, no matter what, communicated a deeper truth.
Do you see now why blessing same-sex couples is symbolically so important, and why whatever rhetorical finesse the Vatican puts on it (e.g., “the Church isn’t actually changing its teaching”) is effectively meaningless? Rome can make whatever theological distinctions it wants to on paper, but the image of a same-sex couple standing in front of the altar, receiving the blessing of a priest, conveys a deeper symbolic truth. If this practice becomes normalized, within a few years, most Catholics will not understand why their Church won’t allow gays and lesbians to marry. You cannot convince me that the “here comes everybody, no matter what” approach to the Eucharist over the last fifty years has nothing to do with the fact that only a minority of American Catholics believe in the Real Presence.
A good weekend to all who celebrate goodness and weekends! Christ is in our midst!
»Christ is in our midst!«
He is and ever shall be!
I love the Dark Age British saints.
At baptism, I was given four prayer saints, but a fifth chose me. I was looking at an Orthodox blog, and someone commented that his brother was a fan of John Muir, and asked whether anyone could suggest a saint as an alternative. I suggested St. Cuthbert, because he was born in the same town as Muir, Dunbar, in SE Scotland, and was a nature-lover and environmentalist, who introduced the first laws to protect birds. I then went to check I was right about Dunbar, and found to my astonishment that it was St. Cuthbert’s day that day. It’s fitting for me, from northern England, as he is the patron saint of Northumbria.