From "First Things": A Review of "God Is An Englishman"

Rhys Laverty reviews God is an Englishman*: Christianity and the Creation of England by Bijan Omrani for First Things. *Not to be confused with R.F. Delderfield's novel!

Of course, I particularly noticed the comments about the treatment of the English Reformation in the review:

While I would recommend Omrani’s book without hesitation, his treatment of the Reformation irked me a little. Omrani at one point refers to the “trauma” of the Reformation, alongside that of the English Civil War. This feels a lopsided term for how the English now see the Reformation, and even for how they saw it by the end of the sixteenth century, when Elizabethan England was a confident Protestant nation set self-consciously against its Catholic foes. Chapter 4 focuses on the history of religious art in England, with much lament over Reformation iconoclasm. Whatever one thinks of it, that iconoclasm and the resultant restrained aesthetic of most Anglican churches is now a part of Christianity’s formation of English identity, a fact Omrani doesn’t really acknowledge.

Furthermore, chapter 8, which outlines the English Reformation’s legacy of political liberty, contains two notable flaws. First, and somewhat pedantically: Omrani suggests that “the foundations were being laid for the divine right of kings” when Henry VIII argued that the fifth commandment (“Honor thy father and mother”) entailed obedience to the governing authorities. Yet this interpretation was novel neither to Henry nor even the Reformation. One can easily find it in Thomas Aquinas.

Second, Omrani fails to moderate his otherwise commendable account of Protestant political liberty with the English Reformation’s particular emphasis on conservatism and good order. . . .

With the comment that Omrani neglects to even mention Richard Hooker's Laws Ecclesiastical Polity, which Laverty notes "bridged the gap between medieval scholasticism and early modern political thought . . . and in a tumultuous time articulated the need for “orderly public judgment to prevail over private judgment” (to quote my friend Brad Littlejohn)." I think Robert Reilly would agree, as he included Hooker in his America on Trial.

Here's a link to the publisher's website; there's a preview offered there.

We're on a break from our 2025 anniversaries series on the Son Rise Morning Show for Memorial Day and the next week, but I'll be back soon with the double anniversaries this year for Saints John Fisher and Thomas More: Martyrdoms AND Canonizations!

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.

Four English Catholic Martyrs on "Church and Culture"

On Wednesday, I recorded an hour of the Ave Maria Radio Program hosted by Deal Hudson, "Church and Culture": Telling the stories of four English Catholic Martyrs from the Tudor era. 

It will air tomorrow, Saturday August 31 at 3 p.m. Central/4 p.m. Eastern, during the second hour of "Church and Culture". You may listen live here. Deal Hudson will post about the episode on his Facebook page here.

I selected two each from the reigns of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I:

Saint John Fisher and Blessed Margaret Pole from Henry VIII's reign. Their ties to the Tudor family are close but certainly did not save them when they opposed, or in the case of Margaret Pole, even seemed to oppose Henry VIII's plans, marital and ecclesial!

Saint Edmund Campion, SJ and Saint Anne Line from Elizabeth I's reign. He represents the many priest-martyrs, beatified and canonized, and she represents many women, canonized or not, who sheltered priests during the recusant era in England.

You know how often I've written about these martyrs on this blog and elsewhere.

If you can't listen to it live, it will be archived here. And Deal will send me a link too so I'll update my Facebook page!

The picture above is the article from our diocesan Catholic Advance, when Deal came to Wichita to serve as the first Visiting Chair of the Gerber Institute for Catholic Studies--so when he refers to our long acquaintance at the beginning of the program, that's why!

And, we'll schedule a conversation about the English Catholic Martyrs of the Stuart era in the future.

Preview: "Catholics are . . . not papists but Christians" (Cardinal Müller)

On the Crisis Magazine website, I had to stop and read an opinion piece with the word "Papist" in the title. Since the word "Papist" rang my English Reformation bells, I asked Anna Mitchell on the Son Rise Morning Show if she'd like to use our Monday morning segment on January 29 to discuss the Cardinal's use of that word. She said yes, so we'll do it at our usual time, about 7:50 a.m. Eastern/6:50 a.m. Central. Listen live here or catch the podcast later.

The headline for an exclusive Q&A interview with Cardinal Gerhard Müller begins with the quotation "The Catholic Church is not the Pope’s Church and Catholics are therefore not papists but Christians" as an edited pull quote from a longer sentence in the Cardinal's response to the second question ("What has the Church traditionally taught on the limits of papal authority? ")

 . . . The approach to a Catholic ecclesiology is important. In Lumen Gentium, Vatican II did not begin with the Pope because, contrary to what traditional Protestant polemics believed, the Catholic Church is not the Pope’s Church and Catholics are therefore not papists but Christians. Christ is the head of the Church and from Him all divine grace and truth passes to the members of His body, which is the Church. This is also what Vatican II says with the highest authority in the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Dei verbum (Art. 10). (emphasis added0

Papist is a pejorative term for Catholics: it was commonly used through the long English Reformation and even used when Parliament began passing Acts allowing Catholics more religious freedom (cf ,The Papists Act of 1788,  18 Geo. 3. c. 60). Therefore, I found it interesting that Cardinal Müller used a term so associated in my mind at least with the English Reformation and the long-lasting fear of and prejudice against Catholics in England and her Colonies.

Cardinal Müller is denying that Catholics have ever been Papists. This pejorative term, traditionally used by Protestants against Catholics does not reflect true Catholic identity, according to his answer. We are Christians, not Papists. We should not let others define our identity, based on sixteenth century Protestant tradition handed down through the centuries.

Its first use as a noun in England occurred in 1528 (as in, "He is a Papist") according to Merriam-Webster; as an adjective in 1562 (as in, "He has Papist loyalties"). 

In 1528, William Tyndale had written and published The Obedience of the Christian Man, which advocated Caesorapapism (the monarch's control of the church in his realm) and the Divine Right of Kings. Anne Boleyn persuaded Henry VIII to read the book and he was influenced by it. In 1532, the Convocation of Bishops agreed to the Submission of the Clergy, abdicating their rights to make ecclesiastical laws to the king and Sir Thomas More resigned as Lord Chancellor, because he would be responsible for enforcing the laws Henry VIII made.

The opposition cited by this term by English Protestants was between the English monarch (Henry VIII, Edward VI, Elizabeth I, James I, Charles I, etc., etc.) and the pope at the time (many popes, from Clement VII, to Pope St. Pius V, to Gregory VIII, to Leo XI, to Blessed Innocent XI, etc., etc.): the issue was: what divided loyalty between secular ruler cum supreme governor of the Church of England and the Pope, the Vicar of Christ, could be allowed on either side?

When Pope St. Pius V excommunicated Queen Elizabeth I and took the further step of declaring English Catholics not bound to loyalty to their monarch (in belated support of the Northern Rebellion) in 1570 (Regnans in Excelsis), he merely intensified the conflict. His successor, Pope Gregory XIII tried to dial it back by separating loyalty and obedience to the Papacy and the Catholic Church in religious matters from loyalty to the monarch and country in civil matters. Although Queen Elizabeth stated that she wanted no window into men's souls, she still wanted their total loyalty, body and soul.

The Appellants late in Elizabeth I's reign tried to reach an agreement with the queen on the grounds of those separate loyalties, and James I also tried to craft a compromise, but the conflict of loyalties remained. An emblem of these failures would be the martyrdom of Blessed Robert Drury: he was one of the signers of the loyal address of 31 January 1603 which acknowledged the queen as lawful sovereign on earth, but maintained their loyalty in religious matters to the Pope. After the Gunpowder Plot discovery, James I required the Appellants to sign a new oath which acknowledged his authority over spiritual matters. Robert refused, and was arrested in 1606 for the crime of being a priest. He was offered his freedom if he would sign the oath; he declined. Martyred by being hanged, drawn, and quartered on 26 February 1607 at Tyburn, London England. He--and Blessed Roger Cadwallador, another former Appellant signatory, martyred on  27 August 1610--is one of the Eighty-five Martyrs of England and Wales beatified by Saint Pope John Paul II in 1987.

And a survey of the many martyrs of the long English Reformation shows that it was issue of authority and loyalty between the monarch and the pope at the time that mattered, especially during the early part of Queen Elizabeth's reign, because of Regnans in Excelsis. Nevertheless, most of the missionary priests considered martyrs were found guilty under laws that made it illegal for them to even be present in England, and the laity considered martyrs were found guilty either of assisting the priests, attending Mass, obdurate recusancy (refusal to attend Church of England services), converting to Catholicism, etc. That's why many of the martyrs made statements on the scaffold saying they were loyal to the monarch in all civil martyrs, but followed their consciences to practice the Catholic Faith, especially by celebrating and attending Holy Mass. It is, however, also true that some of these Catholic martyrs upheld the Pope's authority to depose a monarch, although how that would be actionable in sixteenth or seventeenth century England is difficult to see.

We should also note that the Catholic Church would not and has not beatified or canonized any of those priests and laity who were involved in any plot to kidnap, depose, or assassinate a monarch--or blow up Parliament.

Skipping a few centuries, Cardinal Müller also alludes to the Kulturkampf of Chancellor Bismarck in Prussia after the First Vatican Council in 1870:

The German bishops, with the approval of Pope Pius IX, declared to the German Chancellor Bismarck, who wanted to misuse Vatican I to justify the destruction of the Catholic Church in the “Kulturkampf”: “…the infallible magisterium of the Church is bound to the content of Holy Scripture and Tradition as well as to the doctrinal decisions already given by the ecclesiastical magisterium” (Denzinger-Hünermann no. 3116).

And we know that Saint John Henry Newman responded to William E. Gladstone's over-reaction to the doctrine of Papal Infallibility in his Letter to the Duke of Norfolk.
 

The term travelled across the Atlantic Ocean to the British American Colonies, of course, thus a couple of recent books including the term, Papist Patriots: The Making of American Catholic Identity by Maura Jane Farrelly and Papist Devils: Catholics in British America, 1574-1783 by Robert Emmett Curran. The fear of Papal authority influenced politics throughout the 19th century: the Know-Nothing Party, the State-by-State Constitutional Blaine Amendments, etc. 

In 1928, when Al Smith ran for President, he was called a Papist! and we know that in 1960 candidate John F. Kennedy faced, and mollified, to some extent, fears that he would obey the Pope instead of the U.S. Constitution.

It's fascinating to consider how this term "Papist" either as a noun or adjective, has a divisive tradition from the sixteen to the twentieth centuries.

All images public domain:

Top image: William Tyndale

Bottom image: An anti-Catholic cartoon shows Cardinal Francesco Satolli, who was appointed in 1893 as the first Papal Delegate to the United States, casting a shadow (looking a like Pope Leo XIII) across the country.

Preview: A Bishop Confessor in Elizabeth I's Reign

After our Memorial Day break, I'll be back on the Son Rise Morning Show Monday, June 5 to discuss another of Father Henry Sebastian Bowden's Mementoes of the English Martyrs and Confessors. On at my usual time, about 6:50 a.m. Central/7:50 a.m. Eastern: please listen live here and/or listen to the podcast later here as we (Matt Swaim or Anna Mitchell and I) discuss Bowden's comments about Bishop David Poole or Pole of Peterborough, a Confessor (not proclaimed a saint but perhaps a martyr in chains in a cause never begun).

Bishop David Poole had a full academic and ecclesiastical career in the midst of Henry VIII's Great Marital Matters, according to the Dictionary of National Biography, although it's not clear from that source how he responded to Henry VIII's efforts to obtain a decree of nullity of his first marriage and how the king resolved that issue, but he must have taken the Oaths of Succession and Supremacy to hold the various offices listed below. Evidently, the date of his birth is not recorded, because he first

appears as a fellow of All Souls' College, Oxford, in 1520. He devoted himself to civil law, and graduated B.Can.L. on 2 July 1526 and D.Can.L. on 17 Feb. 1527-1528. In 1529 he became an advocate in Doctors' Commons. He was connected with the diocese of Lichfield, where he held many preferments, first under Bishop Geoffrey Blyth, and then under Bishop Rowland Lee. He was made prebendary of Tachbrook in Lichfield Cathedral on 11 April 1531, archdeacon of Salop in April 1536, and archdeacon of Derby on 8 Jan. 1542-3. He had previously received the high appointment of dean of the arches and vicar-general of the archbishop of Canterbury on 14 Nov. 1540.

Bishop Rowland Lee was certainly Henry VIII's man, accepting his appointment as the Bishop of Lichfield in 1534 "taking at his consecration the new oath to the king as head of the English Church and not seeking confirmation from the pope. As bishop he remained in Henry’s personal service, endeavouring to establish the legality of his marriage with Anne". Since 1533, Thomas Cranmer had been the Archbishop of Canterbury and in 1540, Henry VIII had been declared the Supreme Head and Governor of the Church of England by Parliament. When Poole was named an Archdeacon, the suppression of the Monasteries had begun. 

Note there's no information about his activities or offices during the reign of Edward VI at all. The 1900 Dictionary of National Biography picks up his career with this statement:

A conscientious adherent of the Roman catholic (sic) faith, he occupied several positions of importance during Mary's reign. In her first year he acted as vicar-general of the bishop of Lichfield (Richard Sampson) and commissioner for the deprivation of married priests (Strype, Memorials, vol. iii. pt. i. p. 168), and in his capacity of archdeacon he sat on the commission for the deprivation of Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, and the restoration of Bonner and other deprived bishops (ib. p. 36). He stood high in the favour of Cardinal Pole, said to be a relative, who appointed him his vicar-general (ib. p. 476). During the vacancy of the see of Lichfield on Bishop Sampson's death in 1554, he was appointed commissary for the diocese. In the early part of the same year he took part in the condemnation of Hooper and Taylor (ib. pp. 288, 290). On 25 April 1556 he was appointed on the commission to inquire after heretics, and to proceed against them. On the death of John Chambers, the first bishop of the newly formed diocese of Peterborough, the queen sent letters commendatory to Paul IV in Pole's favour. He was consecrated at Chiswick on 15 Aug. 1557 by Nicholas Heath [q. v.], archbishop of York.

Note that he was consecrated on the feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary and that Queen Mary I and Reginald Cardinal Pole, the Archbishop of Canterbury both died later that year on November 17.

Father Bowden recounts Bishop Poole standing up to Elizabeth I and maintaining his loyalty to the Catholic Church. It's commonly stated that while all the bishops but one (Saint John Fisher, martyr) acceded to Henry VIII's Supremacy, all the bishops appointed during Mary I's reign refused Elizabeth I's Supremacy and Reformation Parliament actions. Owen Oglethorpe of Carlisle did preside at her Coronation but all 20 (twenty) of the Catholic bishops in the House of Lords voted against her Act of Settlement in 1558.

Bowden notes that by the time of Elizabeth I's accession to the throne, Poole was a chronic invalid and received permission not to attend that first Parliament. "Old as he was, he could still bear his witness", Bowden states--Poole would be at least in his 70's if he received his degree before 1520 when he became a Fellow  at All Souls. "He refused to obey Elizabeth's behest" to consecrate Matthew Parker as Archbishop of Canterbury and "he preferred deposition to taking" her Oath of Supremacy. Deprived of his office, he was allowed for a time to live in Staffordshire with a Catholic gentleman, Brian Fowler. Thomas Bentham, Elizabeth I's bishop of Coventry and Lichfield, "represented his presence as injurious to the interests of religion, and he appears to have died in the Fleet [prison] in 1568".

Father Bowden gives this memento the title "Wisdom of the Ancients" and cites Ecclesiasticus/Sirach 8:11-12: "Let not the discourse of the ancients escape thee, for they have learned of their fathers: For of them thou shalt learn understanding, and to give an answer in time of need."

So what lessons do we draw from Bishop Poole's career? While he seems to have gone along with Henry VIII's Supremacy and take-over and remaking of the Church in his image--perhaps he retired from ecclesiastical office during Edward VI's reign?--he seems to have maintained the Catholic Faith and was ready to practice it fully under Mary I and Cardinal Pole. Finally, he was willing to refuse Elizabeth I's Supremacy and remaking of the Church when she came to the throne.

God gave him another opportunity to stand fast for the "Wisdom of the Ancients", the Fathers and Councils of the Church whom St. Thomas More and St. John Fisher and others cited before him. He took it, endured the consequences, and perhaps died as martyr in chains, although that's not certain. His Dictionary of National Biography entry, cited above, says he "was 'courteously treated by all persons among whom he lived, and at last' died 'on one of his farms in a good old age,' in May or June 1568 (Heylyn, Hist. of Reformation, anno 1559; Strype, Annals, vol. i. pt. i. pp. 214, 411)."

There is a stained glass depiction of Bishop Poole in St Mary's, Wellingborough, an Anglo-Catholic parish (refusing women's ordination in the Church of England), designed by Sir Ninian Comper in the Perpendicular Gothic Style.

May he rest in peace.

Book Review: Dermot Fenlon's Study of Cardinal Pole and the Reformation

This book has been a challenge and a delight to read. A challenge because of the very careful research and scholarship Fenlon conducted requiring careful reading and attention, and a delight because he was a wonderful writer, thus making it a compelling read. As an example of the latter, here is his opening description of Reginald Pole's eventful life in the Preface:

Reginald Pole is a figure who slips into two overlapping historical perspectives. The first opens upon the history of Tudor England, the second upon that of the European Counter Reformation. In England, Henry VIII initiated two conflicting movements in the religious life of his country. The first began with his book on the sacraments and his attack on the Reformation, in the service of which he enlisted More and Fisher. The second began with his repudiation of papal jurisdiction, in the course of which he executed, among others, More and Fisher. The protagonists of the first movement became the victims of the second: they found a hagiographer in Reginald Pole. . . . (ix)

I could go to second the second paragraph of that Preface, but I think you get the idea of Fenlon's concision and balance in composition.

Several years ago, I listened to and commented upon a lecture by Eamon Duffy on Reginald Cardinal Pole in which Duffy addressed the need for a new biography of Pole (which this book is not: neither new nor a biography), in spite of Thomas F. Mayer's Reginald Pole: Prince and Prophet, recently published by Cambridge University Press in 2000 and available in paperback. In my 2019 post, I asked:

So why does Duffy want a new biography--or perhaps one that's more accessible (price!)--than this recent effort?

Duffy's main issue is that Mayer has no sympathy for his subject: he did not like Reginald Cardinal Pole and Duffy says it shows: in fact, Duffy states, Mayer "loathed Pole"! Duffy also cites Mayer's entry for Pole in the new Dictionary of National Biography, noting the same problem.

Duffy believes that Reginald Pole was "a holy man; a troubled man" and that Mayer judges him too harshly. Mayer thought he was a hypocrite and a sham! Duffy opines that Mayer's biography of Pole is "dense" and "elusive" . . . 

The reason I bring this point up is that Fenlon is sympathetic to Pole and his circumstances. He does acknowledge Pole's reticence and reserve, his taciturnity and the silence that seemed to indicate his consent to what others were saying, but Fenlon appreciates Pole's situation. He notes that reserve and seeming compliance with Henry VIII's Great Matter, when Pole was asked to help find support for Henry's point of view and finally asked, like More, to be exempted from this process on the grounds of conscience. Finally, he had to respond after the executions of More and Fisher, to what Henry VIII had done to the Unity of Church. His family was in danger after he wrote that letter to Henry, but so was Pole, even though he was on the Continent. The same situation--and response from Pole--occurs when he is asked to help lead the Council of Trent while he holds a view of personal Justification and Salvation that is similar to Martin Luther's at the same that he wants to maintain the Unity of Church and his own unity with the Church in all (other) ways. He stays silent until he has to speak.

Fenlon carefully guides the reader through the Italian and Roman landscape of the Reformation era (responding to calls for curial and Church reform and examining Lutheran objections) and the Counter-Reformation era (after it was clear to Pole and others that reunion with the Lutheran and Calvinist (etc) dissenters was impossible. Then Pole assents to the Catholic doctrine of Justification as defined by the Council of Trent. 

As I read Fenlon's recounting of this long crisis in Pole's life, I thought of Philip Hughes's description of Pole's character in Rome and the Counter-Reformation in England:

Hughes demonstrates that for all [Pole's] knowledge and love of Jesus and His Church, he lacked "irascible passion"; he was too ready to be a victim--and that he had "a temperament that instinctively turned from the hard, unpleasant realities of a problem to the ideal way in which it ought to be solved." (p. 43) Although Pole was a man of action and ready to promote reform and renewal, Hughes claims that he lacked audacity: he was not bold and he could not be stirred to righteous anger. Therefore, he wasn't able to take crucial action in a crisis. 

If Pole was "too ready to be a victim" he certainly became a victim of Pope Paul IV, the former Cardinal Carafa. On page 249 Fenlon describes the future pope's tendency to suspicion:

Suspicion, it would seem, was endemic to Carafa's mind. It could be forgotten for a while in a violent upsurge of emotional generosity: but under impulse it would start smoldering again. His temperament was absolute: equivocation seemed to him the mark of treachery.

Fenlon notes that as a Cardinal, Carafa could be persuaded to calm down and reconsider his suspicion of another. But as pope, "charged with the responsibility of protecting Christendom" (pp. 249-250), he could not be moved. Fortunately for Pole, neither could Queen Mary I, who refused to let Pole return to Rome to face the Inquisition, so that he remained her Archbishop of Canterbury, trying to re-establish Catholicism in England.

A most rewarding read; of course I bought my copy from a second-hand bookseller. It came to me unmarked and pristine. I've made my usual notations and the book kind of curled on its spine. I'm searching for a copy of Fenlon's paper, "The Counter Reformation and the Realisation of 'Utopia'" in Historical Studies: Papers Read in the Ninth Conference of Irish Historians, ed. J. Barry, 9 (Dublin, 1973).

Saint Thomas de Cantilupe and the Pope Who Canonized Him

Today is the feast of St. Thomas de Cantilupe or St. Thomas of Hereford. The Once I Was a Clever Boy blog has an excellent post on his life and on the veneration of his shrine in the Cathedral of St. Mary the Virgin and St. Ethelbert the King (dating from the 11th to 13th centuries), and of course the destruction of his shrine during the English Reformation. From the 1911 Encyclopedia Britannica comes this biography:

(c. 1218–1282), English saint and prelate, was a son of William de Cantilupe, the 2nd baron (d. 1251), one of King John’s ministers, and a nephew of Walter de Cantilupe, bishop of Worcester. He was educated at Paris and Orleans, afterwards becoming a teacher of canon law at Oxford and chancellor of the university in 1262. During the Barons’ War Thomas favoured Simon de Montfort and the baronial party. He represented the barons before St Louis of France at Amiens in 1264; he was made chancellor of England in February 1265, but was deprived of this office after Montfort’s death at Evesham, and lived out of England for some time. Returning to England, he was again chancellor of Oxford University, lectured on theology, and held several ecclesiastical appointments. In 1274 he attended the second council of Lyons, and in 1275 he was appointed bishop of Hereford. Cantilupe was now a trusted adviser of Edward I.; he attended the royal councils, and even when differing from the king did not forfeit his favour. The archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Kilwardby, was also his friend; but after Kilwardby’s death in 1279 a series of disputes arose between the bishop and the new archbishop, John Peckham, and this was probably the cause which drove Cantilupe to visit Italy. He died at Orvieto, on the 25th of August 1282, and he was canonized in 1330. Cantilupe appears to have been an exemplary bishop both in spiritual and secular affairs. His charities were large and his private life blameless; he was constantly visiting his diocese, correcting offenders and discharging other episcopal duties; and he compelled neighbouring landholders to restore estates which rightly belonged to the see of Hereford. In 1905 the Cantilupe Society was founded to publish the episcopal registers of Hereford, of which Cantilupe’s is the first in existence.

But what piqued my interest was the name of the pope who canonized him on April 17, 1320: Pope John XXII (Jacques Duèze or d'Euse), an Avignon pope. According to the 1913 Catholic Encyclopedia, he was:

Born at Cahors in 1249; enthroned, 5 September, 1316; died at Avignon, 4 December, 1334. He received his early education from the Dominicans in his native town, and later studied theology and law at Montpellier and Paris. He then taught both canon and civil law at Toulouse and Cahors, came into close relations with Charles II of Naples, and on his recommendation was made Bishop of Frejus in 1300. In 1309 he was appointed chancellor of Charles II, and in 1310 was transferred to the See of Avignon. He delivered legal opinions favourable to the suppression of the Templars, but he also defended Boniface VIII and the Bull "Unam Sanctam". On 23 December, 1312, Clement V made him Cardinal-Bishop of Porto. After the death of Clement V (20 April, 1314) the Holy See was vacant for two years and three and a half months. The cardinals assembled in Carpentras for the election of a pope were divided into two violent factions, and could come to no agreement. The electoral college was composed of eight Italian cardinals, ten from Gascony, three from Provence, and three from other parts of France. After many weeks of unprofitable discussion as to where the conclave should be held, the electoral assembly was entirely dissolved. Ineffectual were the efforts of several princes to induce the cardinals to undertake an election: neither party would yield. After his coronation Philip V of France was finally able to assemble a conclave of twenty-three cardinals in the Dominican monastery at Lyons on 26 June, 1316, and on 7 August, Jacques, Cardinal-Bishop of Porto, was chosen pope. After his coronation at Lyons on 5 September as John XXII, the pope set out for Avignon, where he fixed his residence.

The reason Pope John XXII's reign interests me is because there is a connection to the English Reformation. When Pope John XXII suppressed the Franciscan Spirituals or Fraticelli the Franciscan philosopher William of Ockham protested against what he thought was Papal tyranny. As this website explains:

During the thirteenth century several popes had intervened in these controversies [about poverty and property], generally to support the Franciscans against their critics. Pope John XXII, however, intervened drastically on the other side. In several decretals issued between 1322 and 1324 he decreed that the Franciscans must themselves become the legal owners of the property they used and appeared to condemn as heresy the Franciscan doctrine that Christ and the Apostles had owned no property. Initially, Ockham steered away from active involvement in this conflict. But when ordered to read the relevant documents by his superiors in the Order, brother William came to the reluctant yet firm conclusion that John XXII had himself become a heretic. Most members of the Franciscan Order submitted to the Pope's decrees, but in 1328 the head of the Order (Michael of Cesena) and several others including William of Ockham broke with John XXII and eventually sought the protection of the "Roman Emperor", Ludwig of Bavaria, who was already in dispute with John XXII. (The pope claimed that no one could become Roman Emperor without the pope's approval and had excommunicated Ludwig for exercising imperial powers without approval; Ludwig had been elected by a majority of the Electors of the Empire and had defeated the other candidate in battle.) For most of the rest of his life Ockham lived in Munich (Ludwig's city), out of the pope's reach. There he produced various writings against John XXII and Benedict XII, including:

• The Work of Ninety Days, a large work (about 600 pages in the modern edition) in which Ockham reports the answers made by the dissident Franciscans to John XXII's answer to Michael of Cesena's criticisms of John's decrees relating to the Franciscan life. (translation: electronic edition, printed edition).
  
• A Letter to the Friars Minor, addressed to the 1334 general meeting of the Franciscan Order (i.e. of those who had submitted to the pope), explaining why he was not with them.
  
• Against Benedict, against the pope who succeeded John XXII when he died.
  
• Eight Questions on the Power of the Pope, reporting and comparing various opinions on the powers of the pope in relation to the Roman Empire.
  
• A short discourse on the tyrannical government over things divine and human, but especially over the Empire and those subject to the Empire, usurped by some who are called Highest Pontiffs [i.e. Popes].
  
• On the Power of Emperors and Pontiffs. This little treatise, written in the final months of Ockham's life, was a kind of "apologia" for his religious and political anti-papal activism.

So what's the connection to the English Reformation? About six years ago, a collection of William of Ockham's works was found in the library at Lanhydrock in Cornwall, and researchers found annotations in the book that referenced texts that supported Henry VIII's efforts to establish his own authority over spiritual matters in England over the the pope's (at that time Clement VII). As this post on the Discover Britain website describes the discovery in 2015:

Dated 1495, the book is a summary of works by philosopher and theologian William of Ockham who was a major figure in medieval intellectual and political thought.

To help Henry VIII to gather evidence to support an annulment to his marriage, his agents scoured the country for texts such as Ockham’s which questioned the authority of the Pope and argued for the independence of the monarch.

The book at Lanhydrock contains marginal notes and marks which were made by Henry VIII’s secretarial staff to draw his attention to relevant passages.

The book has been at Lanhydrock for many years, but its direct connection to the Royal library was not known until Professor James Carley, an expert on the libraries of Henry VIII, was invited to examine some of the volumes in Lanhydrock’s collection.

Because William of Ockham thought that Pope John XXII (and his successor) had interfered in the Franciscan order and Ockham had appealed to Ludwig of Bavaria, Henry VIII's advisors found support for their monarch's authority in Ockham's works against the pope in the matter of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

Saint Thomas of Hereford, pray for us!

Image Credit (Public Domain): 1656 drawing by William Dugdale of ancient (13th. century?) stained glass windows then existing in the Church of St James the Great, Snitterfield, Warwickshire, showing a standing figure of Saint Thomas de Cantilupe (1220-1282), Bishop of Hereford

Image Credit (Public Domain): Unknown century 13th - Archives iconographiques du palais du Roure à Avignon

John Finnis and Shakespeare and Catholicism

After posting about Dr. Neil Younger's article about Catholics and crypto-Catholics in Elizabeth I's regime, I found several presentations by Professor John Finnis about Shakespeare's connection to one of those Catholics in both Elizabeth's and James I's reign: Edward Somerset, the 4th Earl of Worcester, whom Elizabeth said had "reconciled what she believed impossible, a stiff papist to a good subject." Finnis and his frequent collaborator in these Shakespeare and Catholicism researches, Patrick H. Martin, identifies Worcester, and Worcester's secretary William Sterrell, as important figures in the Appellant controversy, an attempt to procure some leniency for Catholics in exchange for a vow against certain powers of the pope to depose monarchs, and Worcester specifically as a patron of two plays, A Midsummer Night's Dream and As You Like It.

In October of 2010, he presented three lectures on "Shakespeare's Patriotic Resistance" at Princeton University in the Charles E. Test Distinguished Lecture Series and you may find those lectures here, with the general thesis that we may find Shakespeare's arguments for the overthrow of the Tudor or Stuart regime because they are not fit to rule--in spite of their claims to rule based on their legitimate succession--and should be replaced that rulers who are fit to rule, as Richmond (Henry VII) replaced Richard III and Bolingbroke (Henry IV) replaced Richard II. Both usurpations were dramatized by Shakespeare.

In 2012, he spoke on Australian ABC's "Philosopher's Zone" on "Shakespeare, Identity, and Religion": Listen to that conversation with David Rutledge here.

In 2014, he spoke in the Catholic Culture Series at the University of Notre Dame on "Shakespeare and the Four Last Things":

The series began with an illuminating lecture by renowned professor of law and Center research fellow John Finnis on “Shakespeare and the Four Last Things,” where he examined Catholic themes in Richard III, Henry VIII, and the poem “The Phoenix and the Turtle.” While English Catholics of Shakespeare’s day were persecuted for their faith, Finnis argued that Shakespeare still managed to raise several theological and ethical questions in his work that were unique to Catholics at the time. In Richard III, for example, Shakespeare presents a world where one’s personal judgment corresponds to the divine judgment after death—an idea contrary to the Calvinistic view of predestination. “Conscience is massively a part of the Catholic self-understanding of the world,” Finnis argued. Meanwhile, in “The Phoenix and the Turtle,” Shakespeare calls for prayer for the dead birds of the title—figures that represented prominent Catholic martyrs of the time. Finnis concluded that, viewed through the lens of Shakespeare’s contemporary Catholic audience, one can see these Catholic values clearly at work in his writing.

You may find that presentation here.

Professor John Finnis has had a remarkable academic career, as noted at the website for Princeton presentations

John M. Finnis is Professor of Law and Legal Philosophy at the University of Oxford, Biolchini Family Professor of Law at the University of Notre Dame, and adjunct Professor in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Notre Dame. Known for his work in moral, political and legal theory, as well as constitutional law, Professor Finnis teaches courses in Jurisprudence, in the Social, Political, and Legal Theory of Thomas Aquinas, and in the Social, Political and Legal Theory of Shakespeare. He joined the Notre Dame Law School faculty in 1995. He has served as associate in law at the University of California at Berkeley (1965-66), as professor of law at the University of Malawi (Africa) (1976-78), and as the Huber Distinguished Visiting Professor of Law at the Boston College Law School (1993-94). He is admitted to the English Bar (Gray’s Inn). His service has included the Linacre Centre for Health Care Ethics (governor since 1981), the Catholic Bishops’ Joint Committee on Bioethical Issues (1981-88), the International Theological Commission (1986-92), the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace (1990-95), and the Pontifical Academy Pro Vita (2001- present). He has published widely in law, legal theory, moral and political philosophy, moral theology, and the history of the late Elizabethan era. His published works include Fundamentals of Ethics, Moral Absolutes: Tradition, Revision and Truth, and Aquinas: Moral, Political, and Legal Theory. A five-volume edition of The Collected Essays of John Finnis will be published by Oxford University Press in March 2011. At that time, the second edition of his widely heralded book Natural Law and Natural Rights will be released, also by Oxford University Press. He earned his LL.B. from Adelaide University in 1961 and his doctorate from Oxford University as a Rhodes Scholar in 1965.

Fascinating, if complicated and rather repetitive (the same tropes of the "Phoenix and the Turtle", William Sterrill's activity, etc come up in nearly each set of presentations) material, offered for your consideration.

Image Credit (Public Domain): Portrait of Edward Somerset, 4th Earl of Worcester signed "Gilbertus Jackson" and dated 1621.

Preview: Praying for the Intercession of St. John Fisher on the Son Rise Morning Show

As a preparation for the feast of Saints John Fisher and Thomas More, I've been listening to this CD of a Mass featuring the Propers for their Feast (the Introit, Gradual, Alleluia, Offertory, and Communion antiphons), William Byrd's Mass for Four Voices, and four motets, also composed by William Byrd. I purchased it from Aid to the Church in Need UK. It's recorded by Cantores Missae:

1. Introit – Multae tribulationes (chant)
2. Kyrie
3. Gloria
4. Gradual & Alleluia – Accedire ad eum (chant)
5. Credo
6. Offertory – Mirabilis Deus (chant)
7. Motet – O quam gloriosum*
8. Motet – Justorum animae*
9. Sanctus & Benedictus
10. Agnus Dei
11. Communion – Oves meae (chant)
12. Motet – Ego sum panis vivus
13. Motet – Ave verum corpus

I've also been preparing for their feast by arranging a couple of interviews on the Son Rise Morning Show--one on St. John Fisher tomorrow June 22, on their shared feast (the anniversary of his martyrdom in 1535) and one on St. Thomas More on July 6, the anniversary of his martyrdom the same year. We're going to focus on each of them, not just as the great models of faithfulness they were on earth, but also on their heavenly role as intercessors. PLEASE NOTE WELL (N.B.): I'm on the show at an earlier time than usual: 6:20 a.m. Central/7:20 a.m. Eastern. You may listen live here on EWTN or on your local EWTN affiliate.

It's appropriate to intercede with Saint John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, named a Cardinal by Pope Paul III while Fisher was in the Tower of London, for our bishops, archbishops, and cardinal archbishops. 

Years ago, at our annual Midwest Catholic Family Conference here in Wichita, Kansas, a bookstore named for St. John Fisher brought hundreds of books from Jacksonville, Illinois to sell. Each time (many, many times) I bought a book from their booth, I received a holy card with a Prayer for Holy Bishops by St. John Fisher:

Lord, according to Thy promise that the Gospel should be preached throughout the whole world, raise up men fit for such work. The Apostles were but soft and yielding clay till they were baked hard by the fire of the Holy Ghost. So, good Lord, do now in like manner with Thy Church militant, change and make the soft and slippery earth into hard stones. Set in the Thy Church strong and mighty pillars that may suffer and endure great labors--watching, poverty, thirst, hunger, cold and heat--which also shall not fear the threatenings of princes, persecution, neither death, but always persuade and think with themselves to suffer with a good will, slanders, shame, and all kinds of torments, for the glory and laud of Thy Holy Name. By this manner, good Lord, the truth of Thy Gospel shall be preached throughout the world. Therefore, merciful Lord, exercise Thy mercy, show it indeed upon Thy Church. Amen.

According to the holy card, St. John Fisher included this prayer in a sermon he preached in 1508, 27 years before his martyrdom. It was part of his sermon on Psalm 101 in a series on the Seven Penitential Psalms.

It's also appropriate to ask Fisher's intercession for the defense of marriage; he defended the validity of Katherine of Aragon's marriage to Henry VIII, acting as her counselor. Cardinal Wolsey had asked him to study the matter in 1527 and he reported to Wolsey and the king that the declaration of nullity of her previous marriage to Arthur, the Prince of Wales, was indeed valid and that Henry and Katherine were validly, sacramentally, and truly married. Once Fisher had reached that conclusion he never wavered. In the Convocation of Bishops and at the Legatine Court in 1529, he defended his position.

He's also an appropriate patron saint of university administrators and theology professors, because of his efforts at Cambridge and Oxford University to found chairs of divinity with the help of his patron the Lady Margaret Beaufort, Henry VIII's grandmother. Fisher was Chancellor of the University of Cambridge for life in 1514 (until Henry VIII intervened, of course).

Finally, it's indeed appropriate to ask St. John Fisher to intercede for us to remain faithful to Jesus, to live simply, detached from worldly pleasures, and to be attentive to our duties. Throughout his service at Bishop of Rochester he was remarkable at that time for being resident in the diocese, fulfilling his duties as teacher and priest to his people, for his simplicity of living and generosity to the poor.

Saint John Fisher, pray for us!

Roman Catholic Relief Act of 1926

Let's just file this under the category: Learning Something New Each Day. I was doing some research before responding to a post about the death of Prince Philip on Facebook--someone had said it would still be an act of treason if a Catholic persuaded an heir to the throne (Prince Charles or Prince William, especially) to leave the Church of England for the Catholic Church. I thought that such penal laws had been repealed with the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829, which was given Royal Assent by King George IV on April 13 of that year. I knew that Act left some disabilities for Catholics yet to be removed, but I had not heard of or studied the Catholic Relief Act of 1926, to which King George V, Queen Elizabeth II's grandfather, gave his Royal Assent on December 15 of that year. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica the 1829 Emancipation Act left these protections of the Protestant religion of the Church of England in place:

In 1829 this carefully restricted freedom again to practise the proscribed religion was extended by the statute commonly known as the Catholic Emancipation Act (io Geo. IV., c. 7). It further disestablished oaths and declarations against Transubstantiation, the invocation of saints and the sacrifice of the mass, by making such oaths and declarations no longer a qualification for member ship of parliament or the holding of any office, franchise or civil right, except offices in or connected with the Established churches, or in any educational institution in regard to which such oaths obtained. But a new oath, against any attempt to subvert the Protestant religion, was imposed upon Members of Parliament, naval, military and municipal officers and electors. Priests were forbidden to sit in the House of Commons, but all civil and mili tary offices were thrown open to Catholics, except the regency of the kingdom, the lord chancellorship, the lord-lieutenancy of Ire land and the high commissionership of the Church of Scotland.

Also they could not present to livings in the Church of England.

Many other restrictions upon religious liberty were maintained. Judicial and municipal officers were forbidden to attend in their insignia any public worship, except in a building of the Established Church; priests and monks were prohibited from conducting ceremonies or wearing habits save in their churches or private houses. Jesuits and all other male persons under religious vows already in the country were to register themselves—they did so for many years—and the entry into the country of those not already there was forbidden, with the exception of those of them who, being natural born British subjects, had left the country temporarily, and of others who might get a licence from a Protestant secretary of State to come into the country for a period not exceeding six months. To admit a person into a religious order was made a misdemeanour; the admitted person was to be banished for life, and transported for life if he had not gone within three months after the sentence of banishment. An attempt (apparently the only attempt) to enforce this law against religious orders was made as late as 1902, but the magistrate refused a summons and was upheld by the High Court : R. v. Kennedy; 86 Law Times Rep. 753. In 1898 parliament had declined to pass a bill for repealing the law, but it has now been repealed by the Roman Catholic Relief Act, 1926.

Please read more here from the same source about attempts to address such limitations on Catholics.

The Roman Catholic Relief Act of 1926 removed other disabilities against Catholics that were not being enforced:

Disabilities still remained however, and in 1926 yet another repeal Act was passed, the Roman Catholic Relief Act, 1926 (which however does not apply to Northern Ireland). The enactments repealed by this latest legislation are, in addition to the repeal of the law against religious orders already referred to, as follows:—The Act of forbidding the possession of Catholic liturgies and books of devotion and statues, is repealed. The Religious Houses Act, 1559, which declared religious orders to be superstitious, and gifts for their benefit therefore voidable, as being for a superstitious use is also revoked. So is the Act of 1715, above referred to, for appointing commissioners to raise money out of recusants' estates. Then the Relief Act of 1791 was made more fully relieving by removing from it the section which forbade steeples and bells in Catholic churches and prohibited a priest from officiating at funerals in (presumably Protestant) churches or church-yards, or from exercising any rights or ceremonies or wearing the habits of an order out of doors or in a private house where more than five persons in addition to the household were assembled, or from exercising his functions at all unless he had first taken the oath of allegiance and abjuration (a similar prohibition in the Act of 1829 being also removed). From the Act of 1791 was also eliminated the section which prohibited the establishment or endowment of a religious order or school or college by Roman Catholics.

Another issue to be addressed was the offering of Masses for the Dead requested in the Last Wills and Testaments of Catholics in England:

It related to bequests for masses for the testator's soul, and the decision may be classed with the measures of legislative relief since, until 1919, when the decision was given, it had been assumed (after ineffectual attempts to obtain legal sanction for such be quests) that they were unlawful. The decision was given by the House of Lords in the case of Bourne v. Keane (Law Rep. [1919] App. Cas. 815). It overruled the leading case of West v. Shuttleworth (decided in 1835) and other cases following that decision, which had proceeded on the assumption that bequests for masses for the dead were now illegal because the Chantries Act of 1547 had confiscated gifts for such masses in existence at that time. It was held by the House of Lords in Bourne v. Keane that this was a wrong interpretation of the Chantries Act, that that Act did not govern subsequent bequests, and that with the repeal of the statutes which had made the Catholic religion illegal, the old common law legality of masses for the dead revived.

The author of the article in the Encyclopedia Britannica believes that Catholics are completely free to practice their religion in England as long as they don't interfere with the affairs of the Church of England, but he does offer a caveat to his stated confidence:

. . . it may now be said, with some confidence (but the maze of anti-Catholic legislation and the piecemeal nature and intricacies of the repeals make absolute confidence appear rash) that full liberty is now restored to the Catholic religion . . .

Doing this research of course led me to a book, which I've ordered from England through Amazon (in one of those exceptions to my rule of buying books at Eighth Day Books!):  Catholic Emancipation 1829 to 1929: Essays by Various Writers with an Introduction by His Eminence Cardinal Bourne. I am in great anticipation of receiving it and reading it later this month! One of the "various writers" is G.K. Chesterton!

Right now, I'm still being dazzled by Saint John Henry Newman's great efforts to persuade the remaining members of the "movement of 1833" to become Catholic--moving onto the section in which he attempts to remove their bad, English superiority complex influenced, views of the Catholic faith as practiced, including in so-called Catholic countries. How can the the Catholic Church be one, holy, catholic, and apostolic when it has so many bad Catholics in it? Isn't that the mystery so many Catholics wrestle with even today, much less those who may be attracted to her as the "one, true fold of Christ" (Newman's phrase)?

Happy Easter! It's still Easter: Christ is Risen; He is Risen Indeed!

Image credit (public domain): King George V in 1923.

Book Review: Eamon Duffy's "A People's Tragedy: Studies in Reformation"

Note the subtitle: not studies in the English Reformation, but just "Reformation"--Duffy explores the reformation of how historians (and even novelists) have written about the English Reformation in these studies, exploring the revisions to commonly accepted tenets of the Whig version of English history. The Whig version proposes that Henry VIII's break from the Catholic Church and the establishment of Protestantism in England was necessary for progress and liberation. Therefore, any losses, material, spiritual, or personal, may have been regrettably cruel and destructive, but were absolutely necessary for liberty to flourish (even as the State imposed its religion on it subjects, restricting their liberty). 

As I expected, these studies are adapted from lectures and previously published works, for which Duffy provides details in the extensive notes for each essay.

The book is also very well illustrated, with captions referring to points Duffy makes in the essays. The contents of the book:

Introduction

Part One: Studies in Reformation

1. Cathedral Pilgrimages: The Late Middle Ages
2. The Dissolution of Ely Priory
3. 1569: A People's Tragedy?
4. Douai, Rheims and the Counter-Reformation
4. The King James Bible
6. Richard Baxter, Reminiscent

Part Two: Writing the Reformation

7. Luther through Catholic Eyes
8. James Anthony Froude and the Reign of Queen Mary
9. A.G. Dickens and the Medieval Church
10. Walsingham: Reformation and Reconstruction
11. Writing the Reformation: Fiction and Faction

Starting from last chapter, Duffy demonstrates how both Protestants and Catholics used historical fiction to further their interpretations of the English Reformation, highlighting several Catholic revisionist works. He includes several of the novels of Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson (By What Authority; The King's Achievement; Come Rack, Come Rope). He highlights Ford Madox Ford's The Fifth Queen which presents Catherine Howard as a Catholic trying to bring Henry VIII back to the Church. Duffy particularly praises and analyses the achievement of the Anglo-Catholic H.F.M. Prescott in The Man on a Donkey--too bad he did not mention the Anglo-Catholic Catholic convert Sheila Kaye-Smith's Superstition Corner (it is a similarly complex historical novel on a smaller scale)--then he moves on to Hilary Mantel's historical fiction in her Cromwell trilogy. 

He deprecates the influence her novels have had on the historically valid reputation of Saint Thomas More--at one point making an awkward joke about historical errors in a draft of Pope John Paul II's 2000 Apostolic Letter proclaiming Saint Thomas More the patron of statesmen and politicians as proof the Pope couldn't have written it, because he's supposed to be infallible (ha, ha)--but even more deprecates the fact that some historians have accepted Mantel's unproven depiction of More as a torturer while ignoring the documented fact that Cromwell did torture Catholics and other dissenters. 

Trying to set this record straight, Duffy cites the historical record that Cromwell, under Henry VIII's orders, sent more heretics (25 Anabaptists) to be burnt alive at the stake than More (also under Henry VIII's orders), and that he "managed the process" of the Carthusians left to die of dehydration in Newgate prison without trial or sentence. Mantel's secular saint is not as tolerant as she wants him to be, so she ignores these cruelties, and passes off Cromwell's thoughts about the torture he supervises of Pilgrimage of Grace survivors as failures of persuasion--and "chains and heated irons" are his means to "pinch a man with pains". In other words, Cromwell tortures but really hates to do it.

But the dramatic presentation of Mantel's view of the contest between Cromwell and More in the novels, the miniseries, and the stage play probably mean that Duffy's efforts will have just as much impact as those of Richard Rex and others. Those who will read historical articles and appraise the record honestly will be persuaded--but how many of us are there? and how many more captivated by Mantel's manipulative words and images?

Duffy performs similarly revisionist analyses of A.G. Dickens's historical interpretation of the Medieval Catholic Church and of James Anthony Froude's view of the reign of Queen Mary in chapters 8 and 9. What he discloses is that Dickens and Froude's negative views of Catholicism tainted their historical evaluations of the past: when Dickens says that anything in Medieval Catholic culture is "charming" he means that it's deceitful and false; while Froude regrets injustices during the reign of Henry VIII, he thinks they were necessary for progress and freedom, but he condemns injustices during the reign of Mary I as horrific examples of Catholic repression and cruelty.

He surveys Catholic historic and theological views of Martin Luther in chapter 7, culminating with Richard Rex's The Making of Martin Luther. I think it would have been interesting if he had also addressed Brad S. Gregory's Rebel in the Ranks.

To now jump back to the beginning: In chapters 1, 2, and 3 in the first part of the book Duffy explores aspects of the destruction of the religious culture of pre-Reformation England, its monasteries, shrines, traditions, worship, and prayer. He notes that previous historians downplayed these losses and indeed ignored their effect on "the English imagination": the destruction of shrines to historic and holy great men and women, the loss of devotion, the end of community. In the chapter on the 1569 Northern Rebellion he recounts how former Catholic clergy at Durham Cathedral were reconciled to the Church while the Rebellion's leaders held the city, but then reverted to the safety of the Elizabethan Church as the Queen enacted her justice. The only priest-martyr of the Northern Rebellion was Blessed Thomas Plumtree, a chaplain to the Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland. 

The chapter on Douai and Rheims highlights William Allen's efforts to prepare priests for the mission to England with a specific curriculum focused on knowledge of the Holy Bible and of apologetic arguments--familiar material from Chapter 5 "Founding Father, William, Cardinal Allen" of  Reformation Divided: Catholics, Protestants, and the Conversion of England and his contribution to Memory, Martyrs, and Mission. Duffy has made excellent use of that material, adapted to different purposes and audiences.

The chapter on the King James Bible is as fascinating whirlwind of praise and reappraisal of its influence and achievement. He notes that the prose and style of that English translation is often appreciated most by those who ignore its content and teaching! 

And finally, the chapter on Richard Baxter, of whom I know little. Duffy surveys the Reliquiae Baxterianae, a memoir posthumously collected from his works, demonstrating that the Puritan pastor of Kidderminster provides another great first-person view of the seventeenth century, not as popular as Pepys or Aubrey, but significant for its vivid detail and story-telling skill.

As I noted before, Duffy's insights into the history and the historiography of the English Reformation era are always enlightening and informative. Highly recommended--Eighth Day Books will be getting a copy for the shelf in soon, I think.