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Post by hibernicus on Dec 12, 2013 15:07:38 GMT
Apropos of Matteo Ricci, I see from browsing in the TABLET that Pope Francis has been praising him as a model missionary and referring to his critics as examples of how the work of evangelisation can be distorted and held back by cultural limitations. This I suspect is a likely side-effect of having a Jesuit Pope, just as Hildegard of Bingen being made a Doctor of the Church by equivalent canonisation might not have happened without a German Pope, the Divine Mercy devotion and the cult of St Faustina Kowalska were popularised by a Polish Pope, and John XXIII's first canonisation was of a former Bishop of Bergamo. This doesn't mean all these were bad things, just that they reflect the particular Popes' particular interests and backgrounds. I wonder will Ven. Matteo's Cause for Canonisation be accelerated under this Pope - will he be beatified soon? (I also wonder if Bl. Frederick Ozanam and Bl. Adolph Kolping will be canonised as a reflection of the Pope's emphasis on social concern? Here's hoping.)
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Post by annie on Dec 13, 2013 2:20:41 GMT
I have just been to see "The Triumph" Sean Bloomfield's film about Medjugorje and the times we are living through. It is a very fine film and contrary to expectations, held my interest throughout. Often such films are amateurish well-meaning but embarrassing offerings. This one is a clear winner and I urge everyone to see it if it is screened near you. It is a spiritually uplifting, very moving and honest film.
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Post by hibernicus on Feb 7, 2014 0:23:07 GMT
Thomas C Reeves' biography of Fulton Sheen, AMERICA'S BISHOP. I was vaguely aware of Sheen and some of the controversies about him. The portrayal of Sheen is both disconcerting and strangely impressive. The first is that he does not seem to have had deep, intimate friendship with anyone (he did have close friends but there was some limit beyond which they couldn't go), to have been very self-contained - even worse, to have been a natural monologuist and authoritarian - and yet he was capable of reaching out and helping people who were in the deepest distress when this was not obvious to people around them - and dropping everything else, and taking personal risks to do it. He seems to be someone who was a natural extrovert focussed on his mission above all else. The assumption that the religious person is naturally an introvert and that the inner struggle is a necessary preliminary to external mission is really challenged by this; it brings out that if the outer mission can easily turn into hollow PR (JF Powers' MORTE D'URBAN is a striking example of this) the inner struggle can turn into an eternal regress, a burying of the one talent in the ground and making it sterile. It is really striking that he spent an hour each day before the Tabernacle (he recalled once falling asleep there, asking himself when he woke "Did I do a Holy HOur?" and getting the response - "That was how the Apostles made their first Holy Hour in Gethsemane - but don't do it again") and that he deeply loved Our Lady, and it is fitting that he was found dead in front of the Tabernacle.
The second is that his life was marked by ambition and vanity, and he did some very dodgy things (such as pretending to have a second doctorate - even though his academic credentials were really outstanding, he was one of the most brilliant graduates of Louvain in his generation) - and in his last years he was painfully aware of how ambition and vanity had distorted his life - and yet he comes across from a wide variety of sources as having been a really good and benevolent man despite this. The idea that one might struggle with ambition and vanity and yet be a good person seems harder than the idea that one might struggle with booze and sex and yet be fundamentally good - I suppose because ambition and vanity go deeper - but it seems to apply to him.
The third is that although he was an anti-communist crusader and in most respects a deeply orthodox Catholic (he did once waver on HUMANAE VITAE in an interview, but it is clear from Reeves' account that this was a brief moment of confusion) his general outlook - critical of laissez-faire capitalism and generally favourable to the Progressive tradition in economic terms, fiercely hostile to anti-semitism and supportive of black civil rights, wishing in his later years to donate church property in the inner cities to assist government anti-poverty programmes. By comparison with present-day US conservative Catholics, he was a raving leftie.
I might add that he is a really striking example of tight intellectual organisation and PR methods in the service of evangelisation.
I have been reading a little about Thomas BEcket lately and wondering how someone as assertive and proud could be saint, despite his devotion and austerity, but as I reflect on it I suspect BEcket was a bit like Fulton Sheen.
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Post by hibernicus on May 4, 2014 20:35:19 GMT
Just went to see the film CALVARY with Brendan Gleeson. My impression was that it was neither as good nor as bad as it had been portrayed by critics. Gleeson's character is presented with a good deal of seriousness, and I thought the claim that it underplayed the spiritual side of his vocation was a bit overdone (he appears to take saying Mass quite seriously, and there is at least one scene where he is shown praying; it is not the case that he has no effect on his parishioners - he stops at least one of them from committing suicide).
The big problem with the film IMHO is that it cannot make up its mind whether it wants to treat the subject seriously or not. There are several in-jokes and self-referential moments (characters discuss how stereotypical they are or how interesting their roles may be) which take away from the seriousness of the theme; this effect is heightened by the fact that several of the actors are well-known as atheists (e.g. the bishop is played by David McSavage, the so-called comedian who has just been howling that we are all slaves to the church because RTE would not let him perform a skit involving nuns being sexually excited by Jesus). There are some scenes which only work when they are seen for the first time, and others which only work/take on resonances on second viewing -i.e when you know which character is the killer who speaks to the priest in the confessional in the first scene this adds a whole new dimension to that character's subsequent interactions with the priest given that the priest knows who it was and the character knows that the priest knows their identity.
A few little observations: (1) Several reviewers state that the property developer who owns the local Big House is bankrupt, but in fact he expressly states at one point that he got all his money out in time and this is never contradicted. His problem is not that he has lost his money but that it - and everything else - is meaningless to him.
(2) I am not sure that the bishop's advice that the seal of confession does not apply to the killer's threat in the confessional is correct, as some commenters think. The seal is pretty far-reaching (it applies to someone who is refused absolution, for example) and the fact that the bishop equivocates when the priest asks him directly whether he is telling him to go to the police (BTW this is clearly meant to recall other examples of Irish episcopal obfuscation and mental reservation with which we are all too familiar) suggests that he knows he is on shaky ground. [BTW the paintings on the walls of the bishop's office are of Cardinal Manning and Pope St Pius X, clearly meant as signs of "conservatism" for those in the know.]
(3) Maolseachlainn's review in the CATHOLIC VOICE is very interesting and I mean to look at it again, and I wouldn't disagree with his conclusion that the film is ultimately absurdist and fundamentally nihilist, but it contains at least one mistake. The priest does NOT give a gun to a suicidal old man; he offers to obtain one for him and later tells him (correctly) that he has acquired it, but he never actually gives it to him and our final sight of that character allows for the interpretation that the priest was stringing him along in the expectation that his suicidal mood would dissipate if he is distracted long enough. (The suggestion that he was telling a "white lie" for this purpose is of course still morally debatable, but it is far less serious than conniving at euthanasia.)
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2014 19:49:51 GMT
I didn't see the film. I found out recently that Chris O'Dowd was an atheist who apparently hopes religion in the future will be looked upon like racism. I didn't know that other guy was atheist, but then again I don't even know he is. I suppose they figured non-Catholics might not see it unless they balanced it out.
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Post by hibernicus on May 7, 2014 14:32:08 GMT
I knew Chris O'Dowd was an atheist, but not that he had made that remark equating religion and racism. I can think of quite a few high-profile Irish actors and comedians (especially the latter) who publicise the fact that they are hard-shell atheists. I would say the film is ultimately more geared to atheists/nonbelievers than believers, because unbelief/hostility to the church is pretty much taken as the norm. The priest's sincerity is repeatedly stated, but the film doesn't seem to be curious at all about WHY he believes - it is treated as some sort of individual peculiarity which is pretty much incommunicable.
This is a contrast with the French novelist Bernanos, who is half-seriously presented as a model; his work is about the difficulty of believing in a world that appears to be dominated by the Devil, whose evil includes that of the outwardly and conventionally pious who are in fact guilty of all sorts of pride and cruelty - think William Martin Murphy if you want to understand the sort of thing he is talking about. In a Bernanos novel the Aidan Gillen character would be identifiable as the Devil or his spokesman - which is gestured at by his Mephistophelean goatee-beard - but here Gillen doesn't seem any more hostile to the Church than the other locals, who are so outspoken in their contempt for Catholicism that one wonders why they bother to attend Mass and receive communion - as they do at the start - for any other reason than to hype up the shock-value.
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Post by maolsheachlann on May 7, 2014 15:30:54 GMT
In a Bernanos novel the Aidan Gillen character would be identifiable as the Devil or his spokesman - which is gestured at by his Mephistophelean goatee-beard - but here Gillen doesn't seem any more hostile to the Church than the other locals, who are so outspoken in their contempt for Catholicism that one wonders why they bother to attend Mass and receive communion - as they do at the start - for any other reason than to hype up the shock-value. And they all receive on the tongue, what's more!
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Post by hibernicus on May 8, 2014 15:36:05 GMT
Good catch, Maolseachlainn. It didn't strike me at the time (because I am used to receiving on the tongue). It's all the more noticeable because they are in a fairly modern church with no altar rail and receive standing. I suspect the film went for reception on the tongue because there is a sort of intimacy about it (and because it is what viewers who don't regularly attend Mass might expect).
Another problem with the film is that significant points about what the priest is thinking/ the motives for his actions are obscured even more than is inevitable in a visual medium like film. (For example, when he obtained the revolver did he mean to give it to the American, or did he intend to defend himself against his potential killer - or did he change his mind at some point and if so when? Did he expect to die, or did he hope he might be able to talk the killer out of it? - the latter might be suggested by his promising the developer he would see him later.) I suspect this is because the makers attached more importance to keeping the audience guessing than to eventual comprehension; in this sense it's almost like one of those storybooks where plot options are decided purely by the reader's choice ("If you want Juan to do A, go to page 84. If you want him to do B go to p.96")and which involve a certain flatness of character (since it has to be plausible he might do either A or B). There is also an element of postmodern pastiche with its insistence that we shouldn't expect things to make sense (we never do find out who killed the dog).
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Post by maolsheachlann on May 29, 2014 13:31:59 GMT
I'm reading Strange Highways by Dean Koontz, a collection of stories. (I would say horror stories, but I'm only on the first story so far-- it's quite a long one-- and I'm not sure whether the later ones are thrillers or horrors. Koontz tends to write thrillers rather than horrors, which is why I've avoided him so far).
Anyway, the first story has a very strong religious and specifically Catholic theme. The climax (which is about half the story) occurs in a deconsecrated Catholic church and the protagonist insists on believing that the strange things happening to him-- essentially, he is sent twenty years into his past in order to redeem something that happened then-- is simply a random but non-supernatural quirk of nature. (Reminiscent of naturalist attempts to explain away the 'fine-tuning' of the cosmos for life.) He is a former altar boy who lost his faith when he grew up. I knew Koontz was a Catholic but I'm still surprised how much of his religion he's put into this particular story.
A lot of people poke fun at Koontz's writing but it hasn't offended me so far. Maybe I have low standards. I don't really care about prose as long as a story grips me. Not that I've even noticed anything wrong with the prose--- seems fine to me.
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Post by annie on Jun 8, 2014 20:42:25 GMT
I have just been watching a film about Frank Duff and The Legion of Mary on TG4 which was quite good. There were many insights given by people who knew him along with pieces from the film archives. Did anyone else see it? It was a repeat. Fiinola Kennedy who did a book on him was in it. He was a man full of the Holy Spirit and very kind. He helped unmarried mothers to keep their babies if they so wished and was totally against them being forced to give them up for adoption or be corralled in institutions. To this end he assisted the women in setting up home near the Concilium. His values were Gospel vales.
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Post by maolsheachlann on Jun 8, 2014 22:10:46 GMT
Annie, I saw it, too. I watched it with my father and it kept us both quiet for an hour. It was really excellent, well-made and thoughtful. That channel makes the best television in this country, I think.
It was interesting that he was a pioneer of ecumenism before anyone else was doing it-- he even suggested an outreach to gay people. And all this while remaining staunch in his orthodoxy.
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Post by annie on Jun 8, 2014 23:31:36 GMT
Frank's birthday was yesterday and people gathered today for prayers at his grave in Glasnevin. I had the pleasure of meeting him many times in my youth. He was just brilliant. The Catholic Herald has a good piece on him as part of their review of Philomena. I cannot post the link as I am only on android but if you could google it.
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Post by maolsheachlann on Jun 18, 2014 13:03:44 GMT
I'm reading The Martins of Cro'Martin by Charles Lever, the nineteenth century Irish novelist. I was simply looking for something to distract my mind, and I came across this in the store-room of the library where I work. I knew Charles Lever had a reputation as a purveyor of 'stage Irish' characters, and as a writer of pot-boilers. But I was looking for a pot-boiler, and I have quite an interest in authors whose reputations have declined or disappeared. (I never see Charles Lever's books in bookshops.)
To my great surprise, it's a very absorbing read so far. He has (I think) the supreme gift of the novelist-- that is, to make every incident interesting, even if it's simply a husband and wife sitting over breakfast. He also has that other important strength of a good novelist, a sensitivity to the diversity of human life and human character. He's very like Trollope.
As for the stage Irishness, I think this accusation is flung around far too often and far too carelessly. Lever regularly makes observations about the Irish character-- for instance, the ferocious independence of the Irish peasant class-- but I am far from convinced that these are imaginary. I think stage Irishness must have been based upon a reality, and that even now we can see some traces of the stage Irishman in the Irish character.
A couple of years back I came across a collection of Lever's novels on the bargain stall of a bookshop, each volume going for a dollar each. (This was in America.) I wish I'd bought them now.
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Post by hibernicus on Jun 19, 2014 21:18:55 GMT
I've read some other Lever novels but not THE MARTINS OF CRO'MARTIN. It was quite well-known in its day, partly because one of the central characters is loosely based on the real-life Mary Martin, heiress of the Martins of Ballinahinch in Connemara, who went bust during the Famine (not purely because of famine relief - the estate was already heavily indebted - but the cost of famine relief was the last straw). Critics who take an interest in Lever (there are a few) argue that the image of stage-Irishry derives from the early novels set in the Napoleonic Wars, and that the later novels are much more complex and interesting.
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Post by Alaisdir Ua Séaghdha on Jul 22, 2014 8:55:06 GMT
I'm not a film buff and as I don't own a television, most of what I watch is on DVD on the PC, but I looked at The Portuguese Nun (2009, Eugéne Green directing, see www.theguardian.com/film/2011/jan/20/the-portuguese-nun-review) I found myself pleasantly surprised, though there are some aspects of the script and the storyline I'd baulk at. It turns a lot of what we expect from modern cinema on its head and the depiction of the contemporary inhabitants of Lisbon come across as a religious people (they may well be in comparison to the French). Bean Uí Shéaghdha and I honeymooned in Portugal and spent the best part of a week in Lisbon (we were in other places too), so we enjoyed the cinematography - even if you don't know Lisbon, you will enjoy this. We also both studied Latin and French to some degree and were surprised at how much we could connect the Portuguese dialogue with the English subtitles (the dialogue is in Portuguese and French: don't let that put you off). The film is about a French actress who is filming a film based on the infamous 17th century Letters of a Portuguese Nun en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Letters_of_a_Portuguese_Nun, but who takes time to get to know Lisbon and finds her life changing considerably through the people she meets and talks with, one of whom is a contemporary contemplative Portuguese nun (whose habit seems Poor Clare, not that this detail is important). So, take that as recommended.
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