The Pope, the Rabbis, and the Anglican bishop.

The Beeb, dear raddled old whore, has a sweet little 'religion' slot on the Home Service each weekday morning, called ... not A Word of Prophecy, not Speaking Truth to Power ... but (how very English!) Thought for the Day. Recently it was done by one of those jolly Anglican bishops who are happy to 'oblige' for the Meejah on the implicit understanding that they won't attack the Zeitgeist.

As many such people tend to do, this bishop celebrated the demise of a Significant Person by doing a nudge-nudge-wink-wink-I-knew-him act. He did this by pouncing on the late, great, Rabbi Lord Sacks ... who "said to me 'James, do you know what are the three most extraordinary words of Jesus?'"

The answer is But I say (Matthew 5:21, 27, 31, 33, 38, 44). Why I find the exchange interesting is that exactly this same perception is discussed at some length in Joseph Ratzinger's Jesus of Nazareth, where the author dialogues with Rabbi Jacob Neussner about the Sermon on the Mount.

Of course, there are such complications as possible Coincidence. But I feel reasonably sure that Sacks had read the Ratzinger ... and that the bishop hadn't.

And further ... I think Lord Sacks, who was nobody's fool, knew that the bishop would not have read Ratzinger!!

Ho, d'you think, Ho Ho? I do.

ENTRY INTO THE TEMPLE

Well, it is fairly obvious that the head of regime is not going to honour his nod-nod wink-wink undertaking to Sir Edward Leigh to get the Churches open again. He is not a man of honour. But did any man or woman ever think ...

If I could make a single minor liturgical change this very morning, it would be to give today's lovely Festival of our Lady's Presentation in the Temple its old Byzantine name of her Entry Into the Temple, ad perpetuam memoriam of the year when Public Worship was proscribed in this kingdom for the first time since the eighteenth century. 

May our Lady pray for our country, that we may be delivered from tyranny.

Dix Updated to Petroleum

Last June, 'Archbishop' Justin ("Buy my Crude! Sixpence a barrel!") Welby was asked about the 'politically incorrect' monuments and memorials which clutter up most of England's historical churches and cathedrals. (Vide The Times 10 November 2020)

"Some will have to come down, some names will have to change. The Church, goodness me, you just go round Canterbury Cathedral and there are monuments everywhere, or Westminster Abbey. We are looking at all that, and some will have to come down."

A lovely passage, in which incoherent syntax precisely matches buffoonery of content.

I feel that the time has come for me to update for you some words (1944) of Dom Gregory Dix about Anglican Bishops. You will easily spot where I have arrogantly tampered with his finer original.

"Even when the stately summer of the Carolines was over, the 'Whig grandee' bishops of the eighteenth century and the 'Greek Play' bishops of the nineteeenth still had something for which the well-meaning attempts of a gasolene salesman to appear Woke do not always quite compensate. It was a dignified tradition, with much of solid good about it, despite its gaps. But ... the loss of the old otium cum dignitate has brought with it a lowering of the general level of clerical scholarship, which counted for a good deal in the building up of that particular tradition."

POST SCRIPTUM Which monuments, according to Oilby, must 'change their names'? Nelson, perhaps, to be renamed 'Hamilton'? Nominations are invited.

 

[BTW ... on November 9 I let nostagia for an Anglicanism which still lingered on into the 1970s get the better of me. A friend has kindly sent me a 1972 video of Exeter Cathedral, which includes clips of the Rt Revd the Father in God Robert Cecil Mortimer, almost at the end of his long pontificate, solemnly administering Holy Orders in his Cathedral Church of S Peter. I hope the friend who sent it will provide a link to it.] 

 

Little Liturgical Notes

In the statement by Arcbishops Nichols and McMahon (Wednesday 4 November), the two gentlemen called for a day of Prayer for the ending of the pandemic on "the Vigil of Christ the King (21st November)".

(1) How jolly. I had thought that Vigils, except as Saturday evening celebrations of the Sunday Mass (called a vigil mass), had been abolished in the course of the post-Conciliar disorders. It is always jolly to see the Bishops moving back behind Bugnini.

(2) In fact, November 21 is the Feast of the Presentation of our Lady in the Temple, not to be confused with February 2, the Feast once called the Purification of the BVM but renamed by Bugnini the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. This November 21 festival has a rather low rank on Western Calendars, but is one of the Great Feasts in the Byzantine Rite. It celebrates the presentation of the three-year-old Mary to the Temple, where she stayed until puberty, being fed with paradisal food by angels. As befitted her unfallen state. Indeed, it has always seemed to me that there are conceptual links between this festival and that of the Immaculate Conception.

Yes, you did read my words aright.  At a time when the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is strictly proscribed in our churches, we shall be celebrating ... the Entry into, and lengthy sojourn within, the Temple at Jerusalem, by our blessed Lady.

There must be a joke somewhere here. Can somebody help?

I wonder if some sweet little sharp-eyed labourer in the Liturgy Office of the CBCEW advised their Lordships against referring to November 21 by the title of our Lady's festival. 

We wouldn't want the Lower Clergy, would we, to have a laugh at the bishops' expense!

Restoration at Ripon Minster

On 18 November 1569, a thousand and a half horsemen gathered in the market place in Ripon, under the Standard of (almost certainly) the Arms of Christ: the Five Wounds of our Redeemer. It had been embroidered by a daughter of 'Old Norton', the Sheriff of Yorkshire, the menfolk of whose family were prominent in events which preceded and followed. 

One of those present had been complicit in plots to rescue the Queen's Majesty of Scotland, who was imprisoned in nearby Bolton Castle. 

The insurgents marched off and took Barnard Castle, and a little later the Old Religion was magnificently restored in Durham Cathedral. But it all ended in tears; Bloody Bess issued orders to "make the examples great in Ripon and Tadcaster", and two Nortons were martyred at Tyburn.

Someone who got off comparatively lightly was Sir Thomas Blackburn, chantry priest at Ripon Minster, records of whom span the period 1540-1570, making him a sort of parallel figure to Duffy's Parson Trickay. He was among those who, at Elizabeth Tudor's accession, carefully stored away in a vault some 49 Catholic liturgical books. He also, together with four other of the Minster's Vicars, hid altar stones and secreted underground a number of English alabaster tablets (including the Resurrection and the Coronation of our Lady) which must have been elements in the reredoses of altars. 

Before the Rising, he  had been in trouble for failing to 'take down' the stone Altars, and admitted to performing Catholic Sacramentals, such as Churchings. He strenuously denied removing objects of idolatry from the Church: his protestations were presumably made with a good conscience, since he had not removed them but carefully buried them! After the Rising, in 1570, he was found guilty of offering the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass; and other Catholic liturgical activity. He was fined ten marks (£6 13s 4d) and ordered to do public penance in a white sheet. I wonder how a fine of ten marks would correspond, in real terms, to the fines available to the current regime for those pulicly offering Mass.

Trickay in Devon, Tregear in Cornwall, Blackburn in Yorkshire ... and how many hundreds others ... clerics and laics ... the good men who were not among the martyrs. They just did their best and kept their fingers crossed and hoped for better times. They are a special category who should surely not be forgotten (especially in the Ordinariates).

As S John Henry put it: "It took a long time to do [the Reformation] thoroughly; much time, much thought, much labour, much expense; but at last it was done. ... What a martyrdom to live in it and see the fair form of Truth, moral and material, hacked piecemeal, and every limb and organ carried off, and burned in the fire, or cast into the deep! But at last the work was done. Truth was disposed of and shovelled away ..."

The Holy Father Speaks

"Non temo nulla, agisco in nome e per conto di nostro Signore. Son' un incosciente? Difetto di un po'di prudenza? Non saprei cosa dire. Mi guida l'instinto e lo Spirito Santo."

Being a mere convert, and not even a Beda man, my Italian is extremely poor. I append below the best translation I can manage, after much labour, of these recent words of PF, in the hope that a competent linguist will be able to correct any nuances I've got wrong.

So here goes.

"I do not have the faintest idea about the nature of the Office I hold. I simply regard it as a sort of nursery playpen in which I can throw my toys around, or smash them up, whenever and however the mood takes me. Waaaaaahhh ... "

 

 

Abuse, Westminster, and Manipulation

Last Sunday morning, the Sunday progamme, anchored by Ed Stourton (of an old Recusant family; he married in the Brompton Oratory but later 'remarried' a Beeb colleague ...  I once heard him say that he accepted the Church's teaching in a 'nuanced' way).

They discussed, of course, the IICSA report on Abuse in the English Catholic Church. And, of course, there was the inevitable call for Vincent Nichols' resignation. 

I can only say how very glad I am that PF has asked Nichols to carry on beyond his recent 75th Birthday. And that I think it does the Cardinal much credit that he is willing to do so. He deserves praise, prayers, and support. Not calumny. 

We all think we know how manipulative abusers are ... but perhaps not many of you have actually witnessed this at first hand, as I, very sadly, have. If you haven't, you just can't imagine how skilful and sophisticated that manipulation is. 

You can get a glimpse of it from reading the McCarrick Report. My experience related to the Anglican episcopal abuser Peter Ball ... and McCarrick brought back to me vivid memories of Ball's manipulations.

In 1982 he accepted a Police Warning [i.e. he pleaded guilty in return for not being prosecuted]. This was widely reported, and one newspaper carried extensive documented accounts (including his letters) of his career of abuse. I lodged copies of this material in the College Archive. 

The scheming and plotting by his admirers for his rehabilitation began more or less the day after his full admission of guilt.

I informed the Principal of the College, a place with which Ball maintained a close relationship, of what I had put in the Archives. 

There was a long silence.

Then he said: "I think that was inappropriate." I replied: "On the contrary, it was most appropriate." After another pause, he added: "John, I think you should know this. Bishop Peter only pleaded guilty in order to prevent a public trial from damaging the Church's reputation". 

When the diocesan bishop who first nominated Ball to the episcopate (a Canon Lawyer with judicial experience) came to publish his memoires (2005), he described events thus: "Although it was not realized at the time, the circumstances which led to his early resignation were the work of mischief-makers. It was a very sad end to his ministry and his departure was a real loss to the Church which was, no doubt what those who brought it about intended."

However, it was not an 'end' to Ball's 'ministry'.

During the decades that followed, I saw the gradual skilled reintegration of this truly dreadful man into the life of the C of E with the authorities of the C of E going along with it at every stage. Although he had publicly and with legal form admitted his guilt!!! After I retired from teaching in 2001, when I  heard a rumour that he was to preach in a certain public school I wrote to the head master there advising against this, but never received even the courtesy of an acknowledgement.

Furthermore: those dealing with errant clergy have to remember that there can be such things as mendacious accusers. And that nobody should be convicted of anything without proof 'beyond reasonable doubt'. 

In that position, you are rather like somebody with at least one and a half of his hands tied behind his back. 

And, last November 12, I ventured to remind readers of this blog that Nichols, despite now being pilloried, only had responsibility for the places where (and when) he was diocesan bishop.

I think 'the Cardinal' deserves fairer treatment.

Was Dorothy Sayers an anti-semite?

That is a nasty old bullying question. When addresed to admirers of Dorothy Sayers, a nervous answer is often given beginning "Yes, but".

That irritates me. Yes, you're right, I am far too easily irritated.

An apologist for Sayers might often go on to say that it is wrong to judge a writer by the standards of a different age. I disagree profoundly with this, not just because I think that the Standards of Today can be very misguided, but mainly because I think it gets Sayers wrong. 

I will take Whose Body, a book to which I have recently referred. And simply point out that it is the Upper Class Freke who is the murderer ... the Caucasian, the Brilliant Surgeon, the Great Mind, the man whose skill and brilliance all admire. The Clubman and the assured member of an exclusive Establishment. A valued and honoured associate of the Royal Family. The skilled Alpinist who has clear blue eyes; one of the Great and the Good. The scion of an old gentry family and educated at Harrow and Trinity Cambridge. But morally, he is hopelessly flawed and he is a ruthless murderer without an atom of scruple. 

The goody of the narrative is Sir Reuben Levy, the murderee. He is given ... by Thirties conventions ... an unmistakably Jewish character: he is hard-working, has a skilful eye for money, and is immensely devoted to his family. Another financier says of him "He's  decent old domestic bird ... he's straight enough--he'd do you down fast enough, but he wouldn't let you down." One prostitute says to another "It's no good wasting your time with him--that's Levy--I knew him when I lived in the West End, and the girls used to call him Seagreen Incorruptible."

I wonder if a Man from Mars might feel that, if any criticism were to be launched at Sayers, it would be fairer to attack her for pro-semitic prejudice.

Or is the problem that people consider it unacceptable ever to hint at traditional national or racial characterisations, whether factual or (as so very often) fictional? A dear old nursery rhyme taught generations of happy toddlers that Welshmen were thieves. Are we beyond the pale if we allude (even in the most distanced way) to old stereotypes suggesting that Germans are humourless or Americans loud-mouthed? That Italians are bottom-pinchers and the Dutch immoderately given to self-abuse? That the Irish can, and do, talk the hind-leg off a donkey? That the Scots are stingy? That English ...

What sort of prison do they want to lock us up in?

There is one point in the novel where critics of Sayers might ... ill-advisedly ... be tempted to pounce. She uses an old term, at that time a very insulting term (although now, I suspect, obsolete) to refer to Levy.  'Sheeny'. (Or am I supposed to write Sh**ny?)

But this is put into the mouth of a medical student, the "local funny man", and it is repeated "not without embarrassment". What, I think, is going on here is that Sayers is putting 'on the record' the fact that a corpse being dissected in a teaching hospital was Jewish (of course, it will turn out to be Sir Reuben's). An obvious way of doing this would be to reveal, in plain speech, that it was circumcised. But Sayers' publisher, after reading her first draft, forbade her to use that means of identification. Hence this ingeniously circuitous procedure (it would be fun to read her original version of the novel ... is it available?). 

Wimsey finally summarises: " ... Levy--who was nobody twenty years ago--romps in and carries off Freke's girl from under his nose. It isn't the girl Freke would bother about--it's having his aristocratic nose put out by a little Jewish nobody ... Freke isn't troubled by the usual conscientious deterrent."

Oops ... somebody will now accuse me of anti-semitism for daring to transcribe such a phrase as "little Jewish nobody". Jackbooted Wokes will haul me before the Volksgericht ...

Quomodo WOKE dicimus Latine?

Vel (si mavis) Graece?

"La Synodalite c'est moi"

Thus Massimo Faggioli now sarcastically writes about PF in La Croix, Mr Mickens' little organ. Since PF's reaction to the Amazon Synod, which lots of people found inadequate, the feeling seems to be arising in some circles that PF is no longer quite doing what they wanted and expected of him. As Faggioli makes clear, structural changes in the ministry, involving a married presbyterate and a women's ministry, were expected. Instead (and I am surprised that so little atention has been paid to this) PF strongly emphasised the necessity for sacerdotal ministries to be solely open to males. So, instead of that particular door being edged slightly open, it has been slammed even more firmly shut. Should an imaginary future pope wish to make such changes, he would be obliged to find a way round the utterances of S Paul VI, of S John Paul II, and also those of Pope Francis. This, for some, is distinctly Not What The Doctor Ordered.

Having been enthusiastic ultrahyperpapalists when they thought PF was their pliable instrument, these people are growing more and more tetchy.

And I suspect that there is also an awkwardness with regard to the "German Synod". This initiative was publicised loudly by Brother Teuton as being "binding". What that means is that Diocesan Bishops would be expected to obey it. But the legislation left in place by Benedict XVI and Mueller emphasised the principle that a Diocesan Bishop cannot be overruled in an Episcopal Conference. If a Conference is unanimous, then, by definition, its teaching is the teaching of each individual bishop. But if an item fails to reach unanimity, then the matter has to be referred to the Holy See. Thus the 'binding synod' is a crude, bully-boy way of trying to get round the restrictions attached to episcopal conferences. 

Those restrictions are themselves expressions of the autonomy (within bounds) of the 'local church', which, in Catholic Theology means not a 'National Church' but a diocesan church, the Bishop with his Presbyters, his Deacons, and his laos.

 I would not be at all surprised if it were to transpire that Cardinal Ladaria, Prefect of the CDF, has explained this to PF.

PF is manifestly uneasy about this Germanic grab for power which contradicts sound and established Catholic Ecclesiology.

What now follows is a post I published on 12 October, itself quoting a post of October 5. 

With my usual admirable prescience, on Monday October 5, I wrote:

"Some of you might not like the following bit. PF seems to me less focussed on slandering Traddy clergy than he used to be in his old, carefree days. ... some orthodox edicts have emerged from the CDF with PF's say-so. Could it be ... has he belatedly realised that high church clerics and ecclesiastical millinery are no longer the Enemy's main threat ..."

According to La Croix, Mr Robert Mickens, formerly of The Tablet before the 'Rat's funeral' episode, is (like Baby in Private Eye) Very Angry.

"Should one criticise the pope -- for any reason whatever -- the Francis groupies and self-appointed interpreters of his every thought and action will brand that fratello (or sorella) as an ideologue. 

"'My pope, right or wrong.' That is understandable.

"But if you look at the pope's fiercest defenders, at least at those who seem to spend inordinate amounts of time on social media, the motto has turned into 'My pope is never wrong.'

"Pope Francis has been a great gift to the Church and to the world. But he is only a human being. And like all human beings, he can be wrong. In fact, he has shown in the past -- as in the case of sex abuse in Chile, as just one example -- that he can be spectacularly and devastatingly wrong.

"His aides and so-called friends and fans do him no favours by jumping through hoops to defend him when his words and actions are indefensible."

Well, so you read it here first. PF is now apotheosed into being yet another of the Gods That Failed.

I simply adore the word "BUT" (vide supra). It is a glorious sparkling poppet of a word.

"You have worked for this firm for 38 years; always first into the office and the last to leave; your devotion led to the break-down of your marriage. And you have never sought pay rises. You are popular and have no enemies. The firm could not have survived its last crisis without your incredible sacrifice of yourself to its interests. BUT I am going to have to ... as we say ... 'let you go' ..."

"BUT" discounts in advance every consideration the victim might ... if allowed Parrhesia ... have advanced; "BUT" means "All the stuff I've just said is irrelevant, so don't bother to say it; only what follows is valid."

I like to imagine that the great Harry Clarke (whose luminous jewel-like glass in so many of her churches is one of Ireland's greatest glories) would have portrayed "BUT" (although an asomaton pneuma) as a darkly purple-winged figure with shining, black, inexorable eyes and a pitiless upraised right hand about to perform execution with a sharp and two-edged sword.

"Pope Francis has been a great gift to the Church and to the world. BUT"

Mr Mickens never wrote a truer word. 

 

Have they uncrowned Him?

On November 4, the Archbishops of Westminster and Liverpool wrote again about the proscription, in the parts East of Offa's Dyke within this Kingdom of England, of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. 

I would have no real objection to their words "it is important that we, as responsible citizens, observe [the regime's] Regulations, which have the force of Law", were they not followed by a NT quotation (Titus 3:1). The problem with citing Holy Scripture can be that, given human nature, it encourages the cheerful bandying of texts; one bangs the ball back across the net with Acts 5:29. 

I groaned to read again the grim old Utilitarian justification for Worship: "the essential contribution made by faith communities to the well-being, resilience and heath of our society."

But it was the next words that floored me. "It is also important to recognise that these Regulations are not an attack on religious belief." 

I just can't throw off the feeling that those words are, if you unpack their doctrinal import, exactly and precisely wrong. The regime's Regulations are what the archbishops say they aren't; at attack upon our belief. The regime permits various things deemed 'necessary' or 'essential' still to happen, but categorises Worship with such activities as playing golf. Its assumption is that Christian Worship is a private hobby which is harmless when it exists on the margins of social life and provides a bit of comfort to some odd people. The Sovereignty of Christ is thereby pitchforked out of the the central affairs of human existence. There is no understanding that the Most August Sacrifice of the Mass is the central action of all human community, of all existence, the most important thing which happens each day, each second, on this planet. Sadly, our episkopoi have again failed to take the opportunity to explain any of this. All they are capable of dishing out to feed their flocks is a covert appeal to the ethical teaching of Saint John Stuart Mill.

Even Boris Johnson must surely have picked up enough of the Catholic Faith, before he apostatised, to wonder if these two Archbishops might be selling the Faith short. The chairman of the back-bench 1922 Committee said in the Commons debate how very surprised he had been, last time round, that 'the Churches' had knuckled under so fast.

In the Obamachronos, I remember feeling miffed, as an observer from afar, when he replaced 'Freedom of Religion' with 'Freedom of Worship', because he wanted to exclude Christianity from the public forum and confine it within the four walls of ecclesiastical buildings. But things are worse, not better, over here under the Johnson regime: even our poor little tolerated enclosure on the edge of the zoo is now under close police supervision.

Come back to us, Diocletian, we have taken you for our God. We are killing the babies and fawning upon the sodomites and barring the way to the Eucharist. What other simple duties, Master, will you require of us next? 

Our Pastors keep on assuring us that your Regulations have the force of Law, so that, as responsible citizens, we must observe them.  

But citizens, S Augustine might have asked, of which Civitas? Whence, according to Philippians 3:20, is our politeuma? 

Do we need to ask ourselves these ancient questions anew?

Footballers of colour and IICSA

An old man has just been hounded out of footie-management in this Kingdom because he used the phrase "C*loured Players".

I can remember being instructed by my Father, well over half a century ago, that it had become impolite to refer to Blacks as Blacks; we were, instead, to call them C*loured.

The morning after that defenestration, some W*man of Principle used on the Beeb the phrase 'F**tballers of Colour'. So that's clearly OK,, then. The old man had to be disposed of, with ignominy, for getting two words the wrong way round. Or, as the tyrants and their even more contemptible toadies are putting it, for "using out-dated language"!

But every news is good news for somebody. F**tiegate, combined with 'the vaccine', kept the IICSA report on chld-abuse in the English Catholic Church confined to a low rank in the order of News items. (And poor Ted McCarrick got not a mention!!!)

I had better be clear here.

Vincent Cardinal Nichols is not really my cup of tea.

But I believe he is at this moment the victim of a considerable injustice. An injustice which has the capacity to become even more monstrous.

The Inquiry did, indeed, take care to get straight that the Archbishop of Westminster, even if a Cardinal, is not 'Head' of the Catholic Church in this country. Every diocesan Bishop is responsible for his own diocese. But they still elevated Nichols, for their convenience, to the position of Figurehead and Official Scapegoat. You have to otch people up a bit in order to get them onto the Pillory and enable the mob to take aim.

Fairness would have involved holding him to account solely for what he got wrong when he was Archbishop of Birmingham. And would have situated that in an accurate historical context.

Just like the vital matter of which way round you put the words 'colour' and 'people', so the question of how one deals with the vile problem of sex abuse, and the vile abusers, can, er, improve almost by the day.

These Inquiries or Royal Commissions, here as in Australia, never probe far below the surface. When IICSA 'did' the C of E, the real narrative ... at least arguably ... was Establishment Cover-up; how a manipulative and highly sadistic epheberast, Bishop Peter Ball, was able to use his Establishment status and contacts to get away with his career of abuse. He was so successful that, even after his conviction and imprisonment, somebody, earlier this year on the anniversary of his death, put into The Tmes newspaper a notice describing him as "loved by many".

I don't remember how many in his networks ... Archbishops, Public School head masters, High Court judges, heirs to thrones  ... were were made to resign in disgrace (until, in some cases, a long time later when they had already become ruined men ... when they were down, and therefore Fair Game for kicking, like poor dim Carey).

I suspect that when Jimmy Saville's career of abuse was at its height, most of the (many) people who had a pretty clear idea what was happening had their own agreeable little covert dirtinesses to take care of ... and that does rather inhibit openness, doesn't it? Rife promiscuity in the Media, at least arguably, was the real narrative here. How many Grand People in broadcasting were made to resign in disgrace?

And Ball and Saville were refreshingly candid about their predilections. Ball once preached a sermon before several hundred young people (and their mentors, including me) in which he said that, if a bishop told you to take all your clothes off, you should promptly do so. Saville, asked on a popular BBC programme what luxury he would most like to have with him if he were marooned on a desert island, replied "A twelve year old girl."

It was the view of Benedict XVI that, with regard to the horrible flood (sporcizia) of clerical sexual abuse cases in the seond half of the twentieth century, the real narrative was the corruption in the teaching of Moral Theology in seminaries and universities in the post-Conciliar period. He is no fool. He is, at least arguably, a great deal cleverer than the cheapskates who sneered at him and at his analysis. 

But has anybody examined the prosopographical interrelationships of 'Ethics' lecturers in that period, what they taught and where and to whom, and correlated the evidence with subsequent abuse cases?

All the 'Inquiries' down to and including IICSA have been exercises in the copious use of sticking plasters to cover over the symptoms of deep maladies, combined with a fastidious disinclination to spend time on aetiology. At least arguably. Witness how sometimes they grope, like drowning sailors, at the planks of  abolishing Clerical Celibacy and/or the Seal of the Confessional.

And, occasionally not entirely absent ... or am I oversensitive? ... is a whiff of our traditional British 'world-beating' Anti-Catholicism.