Preview: Newman's Sympathy for the Sorrows of Mary (More than Seven!)

On Monday, March 31, we'll conclude our discussion of Saint John Henry Newman's meditation on how "Our Lord Refuses Sympathy" on the Son Rise Morning Show as Newman focuses on Mary's sorrow after Jesus leaves Nazareth for His public ministry and the Cross. I'll be on the air at my usual time at the top of the second national hour of the Son Rise Morning Show on EWTN, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.

Remember these are Catholic meditations: Newman reflects on Catholic devotions to the Blessed Virgin Mary, relating them to the parting of Mother and Son at the Marriage Feast of Cana: 

Let us linger for a while with Mary—before we follow the steps of her Son, our Lord. . . . O Mary, we are devout to thy seven woes—but was not this, though not one of those seven, one of the greatest, and included those that followed, from thy knowledge of them beforehand? How didst thou bear that first separation from Him? How did the first days pass when thou wast desolate? where didst thou hide thyself? where didst thou pass the long three years and more, while He was on His ministry? Once—at the beginning of it—thou didst attempt to get near Him [Matt. 12:48-50], and then we hear nothing of thee, till we find thee standing at His cross. And then, after that great joy of seeing Him again, and the permanent consolation, never to be lost, that with Him all suffering and humiliation was over, and that never had she to weep for Him again, still she was separated from him for many years, while she lived in the flesh, surrounded by the wicked world, and in the misery of His absence.

Newman alludes to the warning Jesus gave Joseph and Mary when they found Him in the Temple in Jerusalem when he was 12 years old [Luke 2:41-52]: "And he said to them: How is it that you sought me? did you not know, that I must be about my father's business?".  But He had gone back to Nazareth with them and stayed 18 more years until beginning His Father's business and she would not see Jesus again until she was at the foot of the Cross:

The blessed Mary, among her other sorrows, suffered the loss of her Son, after He had lived under the same roof with her for thirty years. . . . [At last] and she reached him in time, to see Him hanging on the cross and dying. He was only forty days on earth after His resurrection, and then He left her in old age to finish her life without Him. Compare her thirty happy years, and her time of desolation.

In the next paragraphs, Newman describes his own "composition of place", imagining Mary at home without Jesus for the three years between Cana and Calvary, as she yearned to hear about Jesus and to see her Son. Newman has used Saint Ignatius of Loyola's method, to see "the persons in my imagination, contemplating and meditating in detail on the circumstances surrounding them, and I will then draw some spiritual fruit from what has been seen":

I see her in her forlorn home, while her Son and Lord was going up and down the land without a place to lay His head, suffering both because she was so desolate and He was so exposed. How dreary passed the day; and then came reports that He was in some peril or distress. She heard, perhaps, He had been led into the wilderness to be tempted. She would have shared all His sufferings, but was not permitted. Once there was a profane report which was believed by many, that He was beside Himself, and His friends and kindred went out to get possession of Him. She went out too to see Him, and tried to reach Him. She could not for the crowd. A message came to Him to that effect, but He made no effort to receive her, nor said a kind word. She went back to her home disappointed, without the sight of Him. And so she remained, perhaps in company with those who did not believe in Him. [Mark 3:20-21; John 7:3-5]

Then he imagines her life after the Resurrection and Ascension: 

I see her too after His ascension. This, too, is a time of bereavement, but still of consolation. It was still a twilight time, but not a time of grief. The Lord was absent, but He was not on earth, He was not in suffering. Death had no power over Him.

Then Newman finds and offers "the spiritual fruit" from what he has imagined as he thinks of Mary receiving Holy Communion: 

And He came to her day by day in the Blessed Sacrifice. I see the Blessed Mary at Mass, and St. John celebrating. She is waiting for the moment of her Son's Presence: now she converses with Him in the sacred rite; and what shall I say now? She receives Him, to whom once she gave birth.

O Holy Mother, stand by me now at Mass time, when Christ comes to me, as thou didst minister to Thy infant Lord—as Thou didst hang upon His words when He grew up, as Thou wast found under His cross. Stand by me, Holy Mother, that I may gain somewhat of thy purity, thy innocence, thy faith, and He may be the one object of my love and my adoration, as He was of thine.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us!

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us!

Image source (Public Domain) at the top: Mater Dolorosa with Clasped Hands by Titian and his studio c. 1550-1555

Image source (Public Domain) at the bottom: The Virgin of the Host by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1854

For Lady Day Today: Purcell's "The Blessed Virgin's Expostulation"

Henry Purcell set Nahum Tate's poem, "The Blessed Virgin's Expostulation" as an ode for soprano and continuo published in his Harmonia Sacra. It depicts Mary's questions about what has happened to Jesus in Jerusalem when she and Joseph realize He is missing. (Luke 2: 41-52)

The inspiration for the text could come from the last verses of that passage: "Then He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them, but His mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men."

Here's a performance of Frederica von Stade and Martin Katz on piano in a 1978/79 recital album.

And here's a performance in the continuo and organ setting.

The Blessed Virgin Mary fears that something terrible has happened--as terrible as the Slaughter of the Innocents in Bethlehem 12 years before and the dangers even of the Flight into Egypt. They went through all that to lose Him in Jerusalem? She calls on the Archangel of the Annunciation, Saint Gabriel, to comfort her.

Tell me, some pitying angel tell, quickly say,
Where does my soul's sweet darling stay?
In tiger's, or more cruel Herod's way?
O! rather let his little footsteps press
Unregarded through the wilderness,
Where milder savages resort:
The desert's safer than a tyrant's court.
Why, fairest object of my love,
Why dost thou from my longing eyes remove?
Was it a waking dream that did foretell
Thy wondrous birth? no vision from above?
Where's Gabriel now that visited my cell?
I call Gabriel, he comes not; flatt'ring hopes, farewell.

Me Judah's daughters once caress'd,
Call'd me of mothers the most bless'd;
Now fatal change of mothers most distress'd.
How shall my soul its motions guide,
How shall I stem various tide,
Whilst faith and doubt* my lab'ring thoughts divide?
For whilst of thy dear sight beguil'd,
I trust the God, but oh!
I fear the child.

*Saint John Henry Newman would prefer the term "difficulty" as Mary wonders why this has happened (as in "Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt, as I understand the subject; difficulty and doubt are incommensurate. There of course may be difficulties in the evidence; but I am speaking of difficulties intrinsic to the doctrines themselves, or to their relations with each other. A man may be annoyed that he cannot work out a mathematical problem, of which the answer is or is not given to him, without doubting that it admits of an answer, or that a certain particular answer is the true one. Of all points of faith, the being of a God is, to my own apprehension, encompassed with most difficulty, and yet borne in upon our minds with most power.")

I wonder if Gerard Manley Hopkins ever heard a performance of this piece? He certainly admired ("the divine genius") Purcell!

It's a great source of meditation to remember: the Loss of Jesus in Jerusalem is one of the Seven Sorrows of Mary (the third) and the Finding of Jesus in the Temple is one of the Five Joyful Mysteries (the fifth)!

Image Source (Public Domain): Jesus Found in the Temple (Jesus retrouvé dans le temple) by James Tissot, 19th ct. (Brooklyn Museum, New York)

Preview: Newman on "Our Lord Refuses Sympathy" and Mary's Sorrows

Tuesday, March 25 is the Solemnity of the Annunciation, so it's so appropriate that we continue our Newman Lenten series on the Son Rise Morning Show on Monday, March 24 with the next section of Newman's meditation on how "Our Lord Refuses Sympathy" from Newman on Lent: Meditations and Sermons as he recounts the separation of Jesus from His mother Mary.

I'll be on a my usual time, at the top of the second national hour of the Son Rise Morning Show on EWTN, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.

After the death of Joseph comes in time the Marriage Feast of Cana and parting of Jesus from Mary:

The last day of the earthly intercourse between Jesus and Mary was at the marriage feast at Cana. Yet even then there was something taken from that blissful intimacy, for they no longer lived simply for each other, but showed themselves in public, and began to take their place in the dispensation which was opening. He manifested forth His glory by His first miracle; and hers also, by making her intercession the medium of it. He honoured her still more, by breaking through the appointed order of things for her sake, and though His time of miracles was not come, anticipating it at her instance. While He wrought His miracle, however, He took leave of her in the words "Woman, what is between thee and Me?" Thus He parted with her absolutely, though He parted with a blessing. It was leaving Paradise feeble and alone.

You might remember that we discussed an Anglican sermon for the Marriage Feast of Cana from a collection titled Sermons on Subjects of the Day, "The Lord's Last Supper and His First," in January on the Son Rise Morning Show. If anything, Newman goes even more deeply into the mystery of this parting of Jesus from His Mother in this reflection. 

But first, he discusses, as Saint Thomas Aquinas would certainly approve, the "fittingness" of how Jesus separates Himself from all the family bonds He'd lived with from birth, dwelling on the priesthood of Melchizedek and the Levites in the Old Testament:

For in truth it was fitting that He who was to be the true High Priest, should thus, while He exercised {313} His office for the whole race of man, be free from all human ties, and sympathies of the flesh. And one reason for His long abode at Nazareth with His Mother may have been to show, that, as He gave up His Father's and His own glory on high, to become man, so He gave up the innocent and pure joys of His earthly home, in order that He might be a Priest. So, in the old time, Melchisedech is described as without father or mother. So the Levites showed themselves truly worthy of the sacerdotal office and were made the sacerdotal tribe, because they steeled themselves against natural affection, said to father or mother, "I know you not," and raised the sword against their own kindred, when the honour of the Lord of armies demanded the sacrifice. In like manner our Lord said to Mary, "What is between Me and thee?" It was the setting apart of the sacrifice, the first ritual step of the Great Act which was to be solemnly performed for the salvation of the world. "What is between Me and thee, O woman?" is the offertory before the oblation of the Host. O my dear Lord, Thou who hast given up Thy mother for me, give me grace cheerfully to give up all my earthly friends and relations for Thee.

Thus Newman makes the connection between Our Lord's priesthood and the celebration of Mass by His priests to this day, and the sacrifices both priest and people offer at Mass. 

Newman then considers the other family members Jesus has given up, the extended family of Saint Elizabeth and Saint John the Baptist, and how John had been set apart too:

The Great High Priest said to His kindred, "I know you not." Then, as He did so, we may believe that the most tender heart of Jesus looked back upon His whole time since His birth, and called before Him those former days of His infancy and childhood, when He had been with others from whom He had long been parted. Time was when St. Elizabeth and the Holy Baptist had formed part of the Holy {314} Family. St. Elizabeth, like St. Joseph, had been removed by death, and was waiting His coming to break that bond which detained both her and St. Joseph from heaven. St. John had been cut off from his home and mankind, and the sympathies of earth, long since—and had now begun to preach the coming Saviour, and was waiting and expecting His manifestation.

Newman's prayer:

Give me grace, O Jesus, to live in sight of that blessed company. Let my life be spent in the presence of Thee and Thy dearest friends. Though I see them not, let not what I do see seduce me to give my heart elsewhere. Because Thou hast blessed me so much and given to me friends, let me not depend or rely or throw myself in any way upon them, but in Thee be my life, and my conversation and daily walk among those with whom Thou didst surround Thyself on earth, and dost now delight Thyself in heaven. Be my soul with Thee, and, because with Thee, with Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth and John.

So he prays both to love his friends and family on earth but also to love Jesus's friends and family in Heaven!

Next week we'll look at the second part of this meditation and how Newman reflects on Mary's life without Jesus until she stands with Saint John the Evangelist at the Cross on Calvary.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us!

Saint Elizabeth, pray for us!

Saint John the Baptist, pray for us!

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us! 

Image Source (Public Domain): Holy Family and the Family of Saint John the Baptist by Andrea Mantegna, c. 1504-1506 (in Mantegna's chapel in the Basilica of Saint Andrea in Mantua).

From the NINS "Newman Review": An Article comparing Newman's Anglican Sermons about Mary

Since on Friday, March 21, I'll be posting on another of Newman's Meditations and Devotions for our Son Rise Morning Show Lenten series, one particularly focused on the sympathy between Jesus and His Mother and how He "refused" that sympathy as He entered public ministry and His Passion, this article from the Newman Review is timely:

Robert M. Andrews is Senior Lecturer in Church History at the Catholic Institute of Sydney, Australia, a member institute of the University of Notre Dame Australia. He is the author of Apologia Pro Beata Maria Virgine: John Henry Newman’s Defence of the Virgin Mary in Catholic Doctrine and Piety (London & Washington, DC: Academica Press, 2017; revised, 2025), writes about "Hidden Development: Mary’s Evolution in John Henry Newman’s Anglican Sermons":

Andrews examines how the text of “The Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary: The Reverence Due to Her” changed as Newman's study of Marian doctrine developed, looking at the same passage in the 1835 text and in the 1840:

Whatever the edition, there is a reason why Newman’s Anglican sermons continue to be amongst the most enduring of his writings. For though they are Anglican sermons, they contain a theology that is not only insightful, but, with a handful of notable exceptions, mostly Catholic in terms of doctrine (indeed, Catholics probably comprise the largest group of readers of these sermons). Part of a broader pulpit ministry that arguably ranks as one of the most religiously affective of the nineteenth century, Newman’s Anglican Marian sermons—though few in number—are nonetheless striking. Take, for example, Newman’s remarkable statement regarding the holiness of Mary in the sermon under discussion. From the 1835 edition:

Who can estimate the holiness and perfection of her, who was chosen to be the Mother of Christ? If to him that hath, more is given, and holiness and divine favour go together, (and this we are expressly told,) what must have been the angelic purity of her, whom the Creator Spirit condescended to overshadow with His miraculous presence? What must have been her gifts, who was chosen to be the only near earthly relative of the Son of God, the only one whom He was bound by nature to revere and look up to; the one appointed to train and educate Him, to instruct Him day by day, as He grew in wisdom and in stature? This contemplation runs to a higher subject, did we dare follow it; for what, think you, was the sanctity and grace of that human nature, of which God formed His sinless Son; knowing, as we do, “that what is born of the flesh, is flesh;” and that “none can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?”12

Then Andrews provides the same paragraph in the 1840 version:

Who can estimate the holiness and perfection of her, who was chosen to be the Mother of Christ? If to him that hath, more is given, and holiness and divine favour go together, (and this we are expressly told,) what must have been the transcendent purity of her, whom the Creator Spirit condescended to overshadow with His miraculous presence? What must have been her gifts, who was chosen to be the only near earthly relative of the Son of God, the only one whom He was bound by nature to revere and look up to; the one appointed to train and educate Him, to instruct Him day by day, as He grew in wisdom and in stature? This contemplation runs to a higher subject, did we dare follow it; for what, think you, was the sanctified state of that human nature, of which God formed his sinless Son; knowing, as we do, “that what is born of the flesh, is flesh;” and that “none can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?”13

Not only are both editions expressive of a high view of Mary’s holiness, the differences, though subtle, seem to signify development on Newman’s part in an increasingly Catholic direction—which we know was happening to Newman and the Oxford Movement during the period from around 1835 onward.14 They are as follows: (1) Newman changed “the angelic purity” of Mary (1835) to “the transcendent purity” (1840), and (2) he changed “the sanctity and grace of that human nature” (1835) to “the sanctified state of that human nature” (1840).

Please read the rest there.

To me this is interesting because the passage that I'll cite on Friday concerns how the Marriage Feast of Cana was the crucial event of the beginning of Jesus's public ministry on the way to His Passion, according to the Gospel of Saint John, and its effect on Mary after their separation--and if one compares Newman's Anglican commentary on this event in "The Lord's Last Supper and His First" from the Sermons on Subjects of the Day to his Catholic meditation one sees even greater development. Newman is freer in his contemplation of the mysteries of Mary's relationship to her Son, the Incarnate Son of God. Before, there was "an increasingly Catholic direction" in Newman's thought; then Newman may more sympathetically explore Mary's sorrows and her sacrifice in relationship to Our Lord's Life and Passion, the proper hierarchy of course.

More on our next Lenten meditation on Friday and next Monday, March 24, the day before the great Solemnity of the Annunciation.

And here's a link to Andrew's book, Apologia Pro Beata Maria Virgine: John Henry Newman’s Defence of the Virgin Mary in Catholic Doctrine and Piety.

Image Source (Public Domain): Leonardo's Annunciation, thought to be his earliest completed work (c. 1472–1475)!

Preview: Newman on St. Joseph and Sympathy

Since we'll celebrate the feast of Saint Joseph on March 19, it seems appropriate to focus on Saint John Henry Newman's commentary on the Holy Family and the death of Saint Joseph in another meditation in the next installment of our Son Rise Morning Show Lenten Series. So Anna Mitchell (her turn, I think) or Matt Swaim and I will discuss part of Newman's meditation on how "Our Lord Refuses Sympathy" as He enters His passion. 

On Monday, March 17 (Saint Patrick's Day!), I'll be on at my usual time, at the top of the second national hour of the Son Rise Morning Show on EWTN, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.

Newman focuses on how Our Incarnate Lord had been born and raised in a loving human family and yet how, in His Passion, He eschewed the support and sympathy that humanity could provide:

1. SYMPATHY may be called an eternal law, for it is signified or rather transcendentally and archetypically fulfilled in the ineffable mutual love of the Divine Trinity. God, though infinitely One, has ever been Three. He ever has rejoiced in His Son and His Spirit, and they in Him—and thus through all eternity He has existed, not solitary, though alone, having in this incomprehensible multiplication of Himself and reiteration of His Person, such infinitely perfect bliss, that nothing He has created can add aught to it. The devil only is barren and lonely, shut up in himself—and his servants also.

Thus, He lived on earth for most of His life in a human image of that relationship among Father, Son, and Holy Spirit:

2. When, for our sakes, the Son came on earth and took our flesh, yet He would not live without the sympathy of others. For thirty years He lived with Mary and Joseph and thus formed a shadow of the Heavenly Trinity on earth. O the perfection of {310} that sympathy which existed between the three! Not a look of one, but the other two understood, as expressed, better than if expressed in a thousand words—nay more than understood, accepted, echoed, corroborated. It was like three instruments absolutely in tune which all vibrate when one vibrates, and vibrate either one and the same note, or in perfect harmony.

One reason Jesus Incarnate lived in such a Holy Family and received their sympathy and support is, as Saint Thomas Aquinas writes in the Summa Theologicae, the sympathy of friends (and family I presume he would allow), helps us bear sorrows:

When one is in pain, it is natural that the sympathy of a friend should afford consolation: whereof the Philosopher indicates a twofold reason (Ethic. ix, 11). The first is because, since sorrow has a depressing effect, it is like a weight whereof we strive to unburden ourselves: so that when a man sees others saddened by his own sorrow, it seems as though others were bearing the burden with him, striving, as it were, to lessen its weight; wherefore the load of sorrow becomes lighter for him: something like what occurs in the carrying of bodily burdens. The second and better reason is because when a man's friends condole with him, he sees that he is loved by them, and this affords him pleasure, as stated above (Q [32], A [5]). Consequently, since every pleasure assuages sorrow, as stated above [1331] (A [1]), it follows that sorrow is mitigated by a sympathizing friend.

I think this feeling of sympathy also resonated with Newman, for he loved his friends and family, even after his conversion to Catholicism meant that they were separated, even when some refused to be with him or even correspond with him. This post from the website prepared in 2019 before his canonization provides many examples of his thoughts about friends: "All of the extracts in this article are taken from his ‘Sermon on Love of Relations and Friends’ and his ‘Sermon on Personal Influence, the Means of Propagating the Truth’, along with extracts from his spiritual autobiography ‘Apologia Pro Vita Sua’." 

Perhaps one of his most moving sermons is his last as an Anglican on September 25, 1853, "The Parting of Friends", which left many in the congregation at Littlemore in tears.

But, being human, the earthly trinity of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph was not to last:

3. The first weakening of that unison was when Joseph died. It was no jar in the sound, for to the last moment of his life, he was one with them, and the sympathy between the three only became more intense, and more sweet, while it was brought into new circumstances and had a wider range in the months of his declining, his sickness, and death. . . .

Newman's comments on the death of Saint Joseph remind us why he is the patron saint of Holy and Happy Death:

4. O what a moment of sympathy between the three, the moment before Joseph died—they supporting and hanging over him, he looking at them and reposing in them with undivided, unreserved, supreme, devotion, for he was in the arms of God and the Mother of God. As a flame shoots up and expires, so was the ecstasy of that last moment ineffable, for each knew and thought of the reverse {311} which was to follow on the snapping of that bond. One moment, very different, of joy, not of sorrow, was equal to it in intensity of feeling, that of the birth of Jesus. The birth of Jesus, the death of Joseph, moments of unutterable sweetness, unparalleled in the history of mankind. . . . 

So Mary and Jesus were left alone together for a few more years:

5. The birth of Jesus, the death of Joseph, those moments of transcendentally pure, and perfect and living sympathy, between the three members of this earthly Trinity, were its beginning and its end. The death of Joseph, which broke it up, was the breaking up of more than itself. It was but the beginning of that change which was coming over Son and Mother. Going on now for thirty years, each of them had been preserved from the world, and had lived for each other. . . .

Newman concludes this part of the meditation with this entreaty:

O my soul, thou art allowed to contemplate this union of the three, and to share thyself its sympathy, {312} by faith though not by sight. My God, I believe and know that then a communion of heavenly things was opened on earth which has never been suspended. It is my duty and my bliss to enter into it myself. It is my duty and my bliss to be in tune with that most touching music which then began to sound. Give me that grace which alone can make me hear and understand it, that it may thrill through me. Let the breathings of my soul be with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Let me live in obscurity, out of the world and the world's thought, with them. Let me look to them in sorrow and in joy, and live and die in their sweet sympathy.

Newman even offers a prayer for a happy and holy death:

OH, my Lord and Saviour, support me in that hour in the strong arms of Thy Sacraments, and by the fresh fragrance of Thy consolations. Let the absolving words be said over me, and the holy oil sign and seal me, and Thy own Body be my food, and Thy Blood my sprinkling; and let my sweet Mother, Mary, breathe on me, and my Angel whisper peace to me, and my glorious Saints ... [choose your own here!] smile upon me; that in them all, and through them all, I may receive the gift of perseverance, and die, as I desire to live, in Thy faith, in Thy Church, in Thy service, and in Thy love. Amen.

Next Monday, we'll look at the continuation of this passage in which Newman meditates on "that change which was coming over Son and Mother."

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us.

Saint Joseph, pray for us.

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us.

The images above are (C) 2025 Stephanie A. Mann; taken in Sacred Heart Catholic Church  in Colwich, Kansas.

Another View of Christianity in England: Peter Ackroyd on "The English Soul"

Catching up on my reading of periodicals, I looked at the book reviews in the December 2024 issue of First Things and saw a review of a new book by Peter Ackroyd written by Richard Rex, professor of Reformation history at the University of Cambridge. The book is titled The English Soul: Faith of a Nation and is published here in the USA by the University of Chicago Press with a paperback available in September this year (in the UK it's available now from Reaktion Books). The publisher's blurb:

This book portrays the spirit and nature of English Christianity, as it has developed over the last fourteen hundred years. During this time, Christianity has been the predominant faith of the people and the reflection of the English soul. This fascinating new history is an account of the Christian English soul, which recognizes the fact that Christianity has been the anchoring and defining doctrine of England while accepting respectfully that other powerful and significant faiths have influenced the religious sensibility of this nation. Peter Ackroyd surveys the lives and faith of the most important figures of English Christianity from the Venerable Bede to C. S. Lewis, exploring the mysticism of Julian of Norwich and William Blake; the tumultuous years of the Reformation; the emergence of the English bible; the evangelical tradition, including John Wesley; and the contemporary contest between tradition, revival, and atheism. This is an essential, comprehensive, and accessible survey of English Christianity.

Richard Rex comments on the unfulfilled promise of the title (his review is titled "Disintegrating England):

Peter Ackroyd is a major figure in contemporary English letters, a fluent and pleasing writer with dozens of fascinating books to his name in numerous genres—history, biography, chorography, criticism, and fiction. So the prospect of his reflections on the long history of Christian England is an appealing one. Yet, by his usual standards, The English Soul is a little disappointing. The book is cast as a catena of brief lives, with “England” an almost abstract backdrop, lacking that spirit of place which is so often the soul of Ackroyd’s writing. The eponymous “English Soul” is ritually invoked from time to time, often in phrases of atypical banality (such as the comment about Little Gidding, “It became a corner of the English soul”) or almost randomly (“This was a phase of the English soul”). The effect is of a halfhearted attempt to make something out of an eye-catching title that never really manages to marshal enough of an idea to justify itself. (p. 53)

And as the title of the review suggests, Rex comments on how Ackroyd does not address the moral decline and lack of Sunday observance in England today, as highlighted in the Crisis Magazine and National Catholic Register articles I posed on last week. What is "The Faith of [the English] Nation" today?

In the Times Literary Supplement (TLS) Lucy Beckett is a little unsure about it too:

The title and subtitle of Peter Ackroyd’s new book are both misleading: the book could more accurately be called From Bede to Don Cupitt: Essays in the history of English Christianity. Twenty-three chapters, each under the heading “Religion as …”, take the reader from the eighth to the twenty-first century, but six of these thirteen centuries are absent from the story. After Bede (“Religion as History”), the next subjects are the fourteenth-century English mystics (“Religion as Revelation”), who seem to be included principally to justify Ackroyd’s often-repeated idea that the (Christian) English soul begins in mystical experience and ends in pragmatism. For him, though they were orthodox Catholics, the mystics initiated the tradition of the individual’s connection with God, outside any structure of doctrine or sacraments, that was taken up first by enthusiasts in the sects that developed on the wilder fringes of Protestantism, then by William Blake. Contemporary with Julian of Norwich and the other mystics, who were very different from each other, was John Wyclif, a scratchy, clever, discontented academic, and indeed a proto-Protestant.

Beckett's review is titled: "A Practical faith: Peter Ackroyd’s Protestant reading of English Christianity". Ackroyd does indeed skip many Catholic writers after Julian Norwich and others in the fourteenth century, according to the Table of Contents until the nineteenth and twentieth. After her and Rolle and Hilton it's Wyclif, Tyndale, Cranmer, and Foxe. He does later devote chapters to John Henry Newman ("Religion as Thought"--YIKES!) and G.K.Chesterton (shared with C.S. Lewis in chapter titled "Religion as Argument"--Chesterton probably wouldn't mind that much because he did love a good argument!), two Anglican converts to Catholicism. I wonder if William Caxton, Saint Aelred of Rievaulx, Saint John of Beverley and Saint John of Bridlington (two of the English saints Henry V asked to intercede at the Battle of Agincourt),and otherss even merit a mention.

As Rex comments, "Having been called into existence by the papacy, English Christianity remained for nine hundred years intimately connected with Rome, but this truth is simply bypassed [by Ackroyd]. . . . the long continuum of English Catholicism, from 600 to 1500, is covered in fifty pages, a quarter of them on the idiosyncratic figure of John Wycliffe (sic) . . ." (p. 54 in the print edition) Rex also points out the irony that the cover of the book depicts Saint Thomas of Canterbury excommunicating Henry II when the martyred Archbishop of Canterbury is hardly mentioned in the book and by the Blessed Virgin Mary and Jesus, yet none of the medieval Catholic material culture of art and architecture is mentioned.

Lucy Beckett brings up some of the same issues with this trenchant comment, "Ackroyd writes as if Eamon Duffy had never bothered to revive respect for the warmth and depth of medieval English Christianity, and treats Catholic piety only with the contempt of a scornful Protestant."

Speaking of Eamon Duffy, here's his view of Ackroyd's success or failure. He concludes: "Ackroyd is an accomplished writer who has often written compellingly about the English past. But he is not at his best in this book, a sometimes dutiful catalog of major and some very minor religious figures, lacking a convincing unifying theme. Anyone looking for a key to the English soul must look elsewhere."

I think I'll wait for the paperback . . . or to see it on the shelf at a bookstore and scan the chapter on Newman.

Preview: Lenten/Newman Series on the Son Rise Morning Show

On Monday of the First Week of Lent, we'll start a Newman/Lenten series on the Son Rise Morning Show, using a newly published collection/selection of Saint John Henry Newman's works on Lent. Sophia Institute Press produced this lovely collection, including a well-illustrated section with Newman's Meditations on the Stations of the Cross. 

On Monday, March 10, I'll be on at my usual time, at the top of the second national hour of the Son Rise Morning Show on EWTN, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.

Sophia's selection features works from both his Anglican and Catholic periods, and we'll start with one of a series of meditations he wrote at the Oratory School in Birmingham. They were published posthumously in a collection titled Meditations and Devotions, edited by his secretary Father William Neville in 1893, three years after Newman's death. The volume was dedicated to the boys of the Oratory School:

To you, boys of the Oratory School, past and present, this collection of devotional papers by Cardinal Newman is dedicated. They are a memento both of the Cardinal's constant thought of you, and of his confident assurance that, after his death, you would pray for his soul.

For those of you who have read my posts or listened to my segments on the Son Rise Morning Show based upon Newman's Parochial and Plain--or other Anglican--Sermons, be ready for a very different voice and method from Newman in these excerpts for the next several weeks. This is Catholic Newman, meditating on the Gospels, inspired by his spiritual mentor, Saint Philip Neri. More on that later.

These meditations seem to have been planned for Adoration before the Blessed Sacrament in a section titled "Meditations on Christian Doctrine" (there's a prayer "A Short Visit to the Blessed Sacrament Before Meditation" at the beginning). The first meditation in the section "Hope in God--Redeemer" is on "The Mental Sufferings of Our Lord" and it focuses on the response of Judas and the disciples to the Anointing at the house of Simon the Leper in Bethany in Matthew's Gospel, chapter 26 (and Mark 24):

After all His discourses were consummated (Matt. 26:1), fully finished and brought to an end, then He said, The Son of man will be betrayed to crucifixion. As an army puts itself in battle array, as sailors, before an action, clear the decks, as dying men make their will and then turn to God, so though our Lord could never cease to speak good words, did He sum up and complete His teaching, and then commence His passion. Then He removed by His own act the prohibition which kept Satan from Him, and opened the door to the agitations of His human heart, as a soldier, who is to suffer death, may drop his handkerchief himself. At once Satan came on and seized upon his brief hour. 

Newman emphasizes that Jesus allows Himself to become vulnerable as He ends His public ministry of teaching and miracles and prepares for His Passion. ("And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended all these words, he said to his disciples You know that after two days shall be the pasch, and the son of man shall be delivered up to be crucified." Matthew 26:1-2 )  (Douai-Rheims translation) Only He can give the signal ("drop his handkerchief") to begin the Passion. Then:

2. An evil temper of murmuring and criticism is spread among the disciples. One was the source of it, but it seems to have been spread. The thought {305} of His death was before Him, and He was thinking of it and His burial after it. A woman came and anointed His sacred head. The action spread a soothing tender feeling over His pure soul. It was a mute token of sympathy, and the whole house was filled with it. It was rudely broken by the harsh voice of the traitor now for the first time giving utterance to his secret heartlessness and malice. Ut quid perditio hæc? "To what purpose is this waste?"—the unjust steward with his impious economy making up for his own private thefts by grudging honour to his Master. Thus in the midst of the sweet calm harmony of that feast at Bethany, there comes a jar and discord; all is wrong: sour discontent and distrust are spreading, for the devil is abroad.

While Jesus takes some comfort from this anointing with its perfume and warmth, the disciples think only of the money it cost and a better use for it. From St. John's Gospel account of the anointing, Newman takes the real motive for Judas's objection: "He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it." (12:6)

Newman does not comment on Jesus's response to this remonstrance:

And Jesus knowing it, said to them: Why do you trouble this woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon me. For the poor you have always with you: but me you have not always. For she in pouring this ointment upon my body, hath done it for my burial. Amen I say to you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she hath done, shall be told for a memory of her. (Matthew 26:10-13)

He turns instead to Judas's actions (Then went one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, to the chief priests, and said to them: What will you give me, and I will deliver him unto you? But they appointed him thirty pieces of silver. And from thenceforth he sought opportunity to betray him. Matthew 26:12-16):

3. Judas, having once shown what he was, lost no time in carrying out his malice. He went to the Chief Priests, and bargained with them to betray his Lord for a price. . . .

And Newman looks into the mind and heart of Jesus, True God and True Man, able to know what Judas was doing as he was doing it, and already feeling the betrayal before the traitor's kiss in the Garden of Gethsemane:

Our Lord saw all that took place within him; He saw Satan knocking at his heart, and admitted there and made an honoured and beloved guest and an intimate. He saw him go to the Priests and heard the conversation between them. He had seen it by His foreknowledge all the time he had been about Him, and when He chose him. What we know feebly as to be, affects us far more vividly and very differently when it actually takes place. Our Lord had at length felt, and suffered Himself to feel, the cruelty of the ingratitude of which He was the sport and victim. He had treated Judas as one of His most familiar friends. He had shown marks of the closest intimacy; He had made {306} him the purse-keeper of Himself and His followers. He had given him the power of working miracles. He had admitted him to a knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. He had sent him out to preach and made him one of His own special representatives, so that the Master was judged of by the conduct of His servant. . . .

Then Newman looks at himself and prays for faith and faithfulness:

O my God, how can I look Thee in the face when I think of my ingratitude, so deeply seated, so habitual, so immovable—or rather so awfully increasing! Thou loadest me day by day with Thy favours, and feedest me with Thyself, as Thou didst Judas, yet I not only do not profit thereby, but I do not even make any acknowledgment at the time. Lord, how long? when shall I be free from this real, this fatal captivity? He who made Judas his prey, has got foothold of me in my old age, and I cannot get loose. It is the same day after day. When wilt Thou give me a still greater grace than Thou hast given, the grace to profit by the graces which Thou givest? When wilt Thou give me Thy effectual grace which alone can give life and vigour to this effete, miserable, dying soul of mine? My God, I know not in what sense I can pain Thee in Thy glorified state; but I know that every fresh sin, every fresh ingratitude I now commit, was among the blows and stripes which once fell on Thee in Thy passion. O let me have as little share in those Thy past sufferings as possible. Day by day goes, and I find I have been more and more, by the new sins of each day, the cause of them. I know that at best I have a real {309} share in solido of them all, but still it is shocking to find myself having a greater and greater share. Let others wound Thee—let not me. Let not me have to think that Thou wouldest have had this or that pang of soul or body the less, except for me. O my God, I am so fast in prison that I cannot get out. O Mary, pray for me. O Philip, pray for me, though I do not deserve Thy pity. 

So why this different tone and method in Newman's reflections on the Gospels? Because of the influence of St. Philip Neri, his patron as an Oratorian.

Father Henry Tristram of the Birmingham Oratory, who died in 1955, explained in "With Newman at Prayer" in John Henry Newman: Centenary Essays (London: Burns, Oates, and Washbourne, LTD, 1945):

St. Philip newmanized Newman by creating a spiritual atmosphere in which he found himself, and became what at heart he always was--the Newman of domestic tradition. It was his constant prayer that he should grow into the likeness of his holy Patron . . . 

Father Tristram further explains that from St. Philip Neri, Newman drew his spiritual and devotional life as an Oratorian: frequent confessions, frequent communions, special devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, mental discipline, "obedience rather than sacrifice", an "interior religion," and "that illumination and freedom of spirit which comes of love." (p. 119) That helps explain the tenderness and humility of Newman's tone in these meditations as he sought to imitate his patron saint.

St. Philip Neri, pray for us!

St. John Henry Newman, pray for us!

Image Credit (Public Domain): Jesus's feet anointed by a sinner 1585 print by Ambrosius Francken I, S.I 1071, Prints Department, Royal Library of Belgium

Vestiges of Religion and the Decline of England, Part Two

The second article on the decline of British society suggests that the Catholic Church can step into the gap to provide meaning and significance, helping Britains find hope. (You'll find the post on the first article, from Crisis Magazine here, if you want to read them again.)

As National Catholic Register's Senior Contributor and EWTN News Vatican Analyst Edward Pentin suggests in "England’s Decline: As ‘Our Lady’s Dowry’ Wanes, Is the Catholic Faith Set for a Revival?", they're using something else now--according to Boris Johnson--and it's not good for them:

Britain’s former Prime Minister Boris Johnson recently caused a mini-uproar by saying the Church of England’s failure to fill “an aching spiritual void” had led to large numbers of British citizens “gorging themselves” and becoming obese instead.

While he was being deliberately provocative about a widespread disorder to which Johnson, by his own admission, is not immune, the connection between spiritual need and societal ills is one that others have also noticed as the country suffers from a well-publicized and growing socio-political malaise that extends well beyond obesity.

“If you spend time in pubs talking and listening to people,” said Sebastian Morello, an English Catholic philosopher and writer, “you’ll find everybody is desperately unhappy in England.”

Pentin then offers examples of crime, depression, promotion of assisted suicide, suppression of silent prayer outside abortuaries (thought crimes!), and loss of faith in government institutions. Then he looks at the religious statistics, which aren't going in the right direction for Christianity: In 2001 the percentage of people in England and Wales who identified themselves as Christian was 72%; in 2021, 46.2%. Only about 1.2% of the population attend Church of England services. That's why Anglican Cathedrals are presenting exhibitions and even hosting "Rave" events: to make money to maintain the great English Gothic beauty of formerly Catholic holy places.

But Pentin also posts bad news for the Catholic Church:

Meanwhile, mathematical models based on current trends predict Catholic Mass attendance in England and Wales potentially halving by 2040 and between a quarter and half a million Mass-goers by 2050, down from 1.75 million today.

He provides some excellent analysis by several writers, priests, and academics about the opportunity and challenge the Catholic hierarchy and laity faces if they want to revive Christianity in England and Wales. They have to recognize what Alan Fimister, who teaches dogmatic theology at Holy Apostles College and Seminary in Connecticut, says at the end of the article:

Quoting St. John Henry Newman, who once said the Church has “nothing more to do than to go on in her own proper duties, in confidence and peace; to stand still and to see the salvation of God,” Fimister pointed out that when the Church was doing this and “teaching, sanctifying and governing without fear or favor,” the powers of this age had “no choice but to simulate her virtues in the hope of leading people away from Christ.”

But when the Church “forsook the reproach of Christ in the hope of befriending the world,” the powers of the age “had no more need to fear. Contraception, abortion, pornography, sodomy, euthanasia, et cetera have all been driven forward without opposition by the enemy and his minions.

“All we need do,” Fimister said, “is take up again the Sword of the Spirit and the enemy will flee before us.”

(The candle where the shrine of Saint Thomas of Canterbury once stood.)

There some varying opinions in that last section of the article, especially focused on the after effects of the English Reformation and the establishment of a royal (later parliamentary) state church, and among those quoted is John Rist, whom Pentin interviewed in a separate article, "Prominent English Scholar Says His Country’s Decline Began With the Reformation." Rist's biography: "An English convert to the faith, he is an expert on St. Augustine of Hippo, Plato and Aristotle and a prolific author who has held the Dominican Father Kurt Pritzl Chair in Philosophy at The Catholic University of America and is a life member of Clare Hall at the University of Cambridge, England."

Rist does believe that the English Reformation is at the root of Britain's decline:

I certainly agree that the collapse of traditional (i.e., Catholic) Christianity is an important factor in its decline, not least because all other forms are far less defensible. The Church of England, being Erastian [a church ruled by the state] from the start, was bound to collapse into its components with, say, “Laudian” Anglo-Catholicism on the one hand [Archbishop William Laud of Canterbury, 1573-1645], and local varieties of Calvinism on the other.

As to English history in particular, it seems the Reformation was helped along in its English version by identifying hatred of Spain with hatred of the papacy. Then come the atheists: [Christopher] Marlowe must be one of the very first, along with other members of the circle of Sir Walter Raleigh; then the wars of religion, then (libertine) weariness, with all the gruesome killings, which all had engaged in for so long, leading to the sense that religion is merely savagery (c.f., Voltaire) and should be replaced by science and shopping — and that was helped along very well by the profits of a growing empire.

But when the empire collapsed, what was left? Nobody knew. All was discredited — Catholicism, Protestantism, communism, fascism — so where else to go? . . .

Please read the rest there. 

(Side altar with relics of Saint Thomas of Canterbury)

The confusions, changes, and back and forth within English Christianity from Henry VIII through to the nineteenth century: saints in, saints out, saints in again; Pope in, Pope out, Pope in again, Pope out, iconoclasm, restoration, etc--certainly weakened the lingering foundations of the Church in England. The connections between worship and doctrine, moral and fundamental, were definitely weakened, and the secularism and anti-dogmatic spirit that Newman descried took their place. That's not even considering the political and international conflicts and alliances through those centuries and how they affected this trend!

Whether or not the Catholic Church in England will or can step into the gap is an important issue. The new evangelization efforts of the Anglican Ordinariate may prove essential to those who see the vestiges of hope in the Church of England.

Our Lady of Walsingham, pray for us!

Saint Thomas of Canterbury, pray for us!

Saint John Fisher, pray for us!

Saint Thomas More, pray for us!

Saint John Henry Newman, pray for us!

Pictures above (c) Stephanie A. Mann (2025): the Anglican Canterbury Cathedral and the Catholic church of Saint Thomas of Canterbury nearby.

Vestiges of Religion and the Decline of England, Part One

Two recent articles (plus a follow-up interview) of note: one by Edward Pentin in the National Catholic Register and the other by Charles Coulombe in Crisis Magazine for your attention.

Both deal with the decline in religious practice--namely Catholic religious practice--in England and the decline in culture and tradition.

(Picture of a marching band taken during a trip to London years ago with my late husband Mark. 

We'd just visited Buckingham Palace!)

In "What the British Have Forgotten—and Can Teach Us" Charles Coulombe focuses on the vestiges of Catholicism in England's traditions and cultures, and how they are fading:

For the visitor from the Anglosphere abroad, these customs of the mother country are a thrill—even if one is tied only by language and culture, rather than DNA. They are pleasant if quaint reminders of the remote backgrounds of our own civil institutions, and they seem to embody the world that produced our countries. For the natives, of course, they are either proud reassertions of their age-old heritage or embarrassing anachronisms that need to be junked, either slowly or rapidly. But this writer would dissent from either view.

So far from being merely quaint or pleasant and restricted to Britain, they are desiccated reminders of a ceremonial spirit that once animated all of Christendom, from Portugal to Russia—and even the Spanish and Portuguese viceroyalties in Latin America and the East Indies. This is just as the pounds-shillings-pence system—which survived to my childhood—was seen as a purely British eccentricity but was actually designed by Charlemagne and used throughout Europe until the French Revolution.

So many of what we consider peculiarly British customs and practices are really survivals—shorn of Catholic meaning—that were universal among Catholic peoples prior to the Protestant revolt, and which—like the pounds, shillings, and pence—were banished from Catholic lands by revolution. So it is that the British hold on to the form without concern for the missing content, and Catholics are ignorant and often scornful of what that content was. . . .

One tradition easily identifiable as an example of this: The Royal Maundy. This year on Holy Thursday, King Charles III and Queen Camilla will hand out coins at Durham Cathedral:

Royal Maundy services go back to the Middle Ages when the Monarch used to wash the feet of the poor and disadvantaged, just as Jesus washed the feet of the disciples on the night of the Last Supper. Alms were also distributed at the ceremony.

The service always takes place on Maundy Thursday, just three days before Easter. King Charles will present two purses of specially minted coins to 76 men and 76 women who have given outstanding support to their local communities. The number of people who receive the coins always matches the age of the Monarch.

The word "Maundy" refers to Our Lord's Mandatum to His Apostles the night before He died when He washed their feet like a servant, giving them an example to do likewise (John 13:4-17). From the reign of King John to King James II, the monarchs of England participated in a much more elaborate ceremony, washing the feet of twelve poor persons, giving them gifts. We have a record of Queen Mary I conducting these acts of humility and charity from the Holy Maundy of 1556:

At the entrance of the hall there was a great number of the chief dames and noble ladies of the court, and they prepared themselves by putting on a long linen apron which reached the ground, and round their necks they placed a towel, the two ends of which remained pendant at full length on either side, each of them carrying a silver ewer, and they had flowers in their hands, the Queen also being arrayed in like manner. Her Majesty knelt down on both her knees before the first of the poor women, and taking in the left hand the woman’s right foot, she washed it with her own right hand, drying it very thoroughly with the towel which hung at her neck, and having signed it with the cross she kissed the foot so fervently that it seemed as if she were embracing something very previous. She did the like by all and each of the other poor women, one by one, each of the ladies her attendants giving her in turn their basin and ewer and towel, and I vow to you that in all her movements and gestures, and by her manner, she seemed to act thus not merely out of ceremony, but from great feeling, and devotion. Amongst these demonstrations there was this one remarkable, that in washing the feet she went the whole length of that long hall, from one end to the other, ever on her knees. . . .

The tradition ended with William and Mary, and was transformed later into the honoring of people who performed charitable services with special coins. Queen Elizabeth II went to a different Anglican Cathedral or Abbey nearly every year of her reign to observe the Maundy. It is still a religious service, but the extraordinary demonstration of humility by the sovereign is no longer there. But, as Coulombe comments, "it became a big part of her [Elizabeth II's] personal devotion, as it has remained for her son [Charles III]". He also points out, however: "But just as 1688 eliminated the ability of the king to protect, defend, and govern his people, it also assured that Parliament would be master, rather than servant, of people and monarch alike. The dichotomy between form and substance has been less obvious in some reigns and some Parliaments than others. . . ." 

Thus, the tradition remains in some form, but the basis of the symbolism, its reality, has been vitiated. Please read the rest there. 

More on this theme tomorrow, from the National Catholic Register article by Edward Pentin and a follow-up interview with Professor John Rist.

Preview: The Korean War begins 75 Years Ago and Venerable Emil Kapaun was There!

I have a few more 2025 anniversaries to share on the Son Rise Morning Show, but this will be the last one for awhile as Anna Mitchell, Matt Swaim, and I will start a Lenten series on the Monday of the First Week of Lent. More about that series to come!

On Monday, March 3, we'll discuss the 75th anniversary of the start of the Korean War--and most of all Venerable Emil J. Kapaun's brief, heroic service in Korea--at the top of the second national hour of the Son Rise Morning Show on EWTN, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Please listen live here or catch the podcast later here.

On June 5, 1950, war in Korea was declared after Communist North Korea invaded South Korea. I'm not going to go too much into the causes and course of the Korean War in this post or the time we have on the air, because it's a complicated history, involving the Soviet Union, China, MacArthur, Truman, and M*A*S*H. The latter is all I knew of the Korean War for many years!

Venerable Father Emil J. Kapaun had returned to service as a Chaplain in 1948 at Fort Bliss and then went to Japan in 1949. He had previously served as an Army Chaplain in Burma and India in 1945 and 1946 and was promoted to Captain. After release from active duty, he returned to the USA to study at the Catholic University of America from 1946 to 1948, earning his M.A. in Education. But instead of teaching, he wanted to return to active service.

So Kapaun was in Occupied Japan with the Eighth Cavalry Regiment of the First Cavalry Division  when the war was declared and he went to Korea on July 15, 1950. As the website devoted to Father Kapaun's Cause here in the Diocese of Wichita, Kansas states:

During the next four months, Chaplain Kapaun tended to his chaplaincy duties with fierce devotion. All the while he experienced first-hand the horrors of the Korean War: hundreds of dead and wounded soldiers, men utterly exhausted and shell shocked from battle, South Korean refugees fleeing their homes, extreme heat and mosquitoes in summer and wet, rainy days during the fall, frequent lack of sleep and food, and the constant nerve-racking noise and confusion of battle.

He quickly earned a reputation for being a fearless soldier who risked his life to minister to the men fighting on the front lines. Along with praying with men in foxholes and saying Mass on the battlefield (oftentimes using the hood of his Jeep as the altar), Chaplain Kapaun would risk his life to administer the sacraments to the dying, to retrieve wounded soldiers, and to bury the dead--ally and enemy alike.

For rescuing a stranded and wounded soldier, he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal with a "V" device for valor.

When the Chinese People's Voluntary Army entered the war, however, Chaplain Kapaun and members of the Eighth Cavalry Regiment's 3rd Battalion were captured during the Battle of Unsan. Father Kapaun said his last Masses on November 1, All Saints Day, 1950 and he was captured on All Souls Day, November 2 and force-marched to Sombakal and then Camp 5 at Pyokton.

Until he was taken to the camp hospital in May 1951, suffering from a blood clot in one leg, malnutrition, dysentery, and pneumonia, Father Kapaun served the others in the camp physically, morally, spiritually, and sacrificially. He led an Easter Service (not a Mass) on March 25, and died on May 31, 1951. The men who survived the conditions of Camp 5 remembered his valor and service, and when the Korean War ended on July 27, 1953 with the UN Armistice they were released, they shared stories about him. They also brought back the Crucifix carved by Major Gerry Fink, a captured Marine Pilot, who was Jewish, when he came to Camp 5 after Kapaun had died. 

As the diocesan website notes:

It is due to the dedication and determination of Father Kapaun’s fellow prisoners of war that we know of his story today. Already awarded the Bronze Star for bravery in battle, Chaplain Kapaun was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions during and after the Battle of Unsan. After years of clamoring that this medal be upgraded, the President of the United States [Barack Obama] posthumously awarded Chaplain Kapaun the Medal of Honor on April 11, 2013.

I saw the Crucifix Major Fink carved every day when I attended Kapaun-Mt. Carmel High School here in Wichita, Kansas and have been to able participate in several events associated with the return of his remains in September 2021 (his tomb is in the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception), and a couple of symposia on his service and Korean War history. 

In March 2024 the Kansas Legislature passed a law authorizing a statue of Kapaun in the Kansas Capitol Building. On February 25, while in hospital for treatment of double pneumonia, Pope Francis declared Father Kapaun to be Venerable! Deo Gratias!

If you are looking for a different devotion for the Stations of Cross for Lent, the office promoting his cause has a booklet with meditations based on Chaplain Kapaun's time in the prison camp. Please note: Intended solely for private devotion. Created by the Father Kapaun Guild. Imprimatur by Bishop Carl A. Kemme of Wichita.

Here's the update on the Cause for Kapaun on the diocesan website:

This Decree is a formal recognition that, after a life of virtue, Kapaun freely and voluntarily made the supreme act of charity: offering his life for his fellow prisoners of war. "Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends," says Jesus (John 15:13).

 

The publication of the Decree opens the door for the investigation of alleged miracles needed as supernatural evidence to further the cause. One miracle will need to be approved for beatification. A second approved miracle, occurring after the beatification itself, will be needed for canonization as a saint.

 

Over the years we have received testimony of several instances of alleged miraculous intercession by Father Kapaun. Some of these potential miracles date back nearly two decades, while others occurred very recently. One or two will be sent in detail to the Dicastery for Saints in Rome for review by both theologians and medical experts before papal approval is given. This process will likely take many years before beatification could happen.

Venerable Father Emil J. Kapaun, pray for us!

Image Credit (Public Domain): Father Emil Kapaun celebrating Mass using the hood of a Jeep as his altar, Oct 7, 1950