Modernism in traditional form?

I found this blog post, The ironies of Catholic traditionalism, while searching for something completely different. And I was particularly struck by this paragraph:

There are many other ironies here, but the most striking – and, I suspect, the most consequential – is that the conservatives who attack Pope Francis in the name of tradition and magisterial authority have been pressed into holding a variation of the doctrine of private judgement. They no longer countenance any form of obsequium religiosum, religious assent or submission, to the ordinary teaching authority of the Pope. Rather, they advise that you withhold assent until you have established to your satisfaction that what he says is in accord with tradition.

Could anything like the modern traditionalist movements (in various Christian communities) ever have happened in the past? Or is the traditionalist movement a rebellion against itself?

4 November

I have been reading and thinking about SK’s (in)famous journal entry for 1 August 1835. Especially this image:

What use would it be if truth were to stand there before me, cold and naked, not caring whether I acknowledged it or not, inducing an anxious shiver rather than trusting devotion?

Journals 1835 (1:19)

Truth calls for personal involvement, not detached reflection. But …

The Truth is a trap: you cannot get hold of it without getting caught; you cannot get hold of the truth in such a way that you catch it, but only in such a way that it catches you.

Journals 1854 (10:17)

Truth calls for passivity in a world of activity. Truth confronts with possibility.

Truth/Jesus does not play our games. He is not limited by us or our thinking. And that is why God needed to become a person – Jesus is so much more than we can imagine, Jesus does not fit neatly into a box.

31 October

This crucifix has been with me for a long time. The story is that my maternal grandmother, with whom I spent the first 6 years of my life, found the crucifix while escaping from Poland at the beginning of the World War 2. It hung next to her bed until I inherited it.

I assume it was part of a monastic habit – or I hope it was. It was on the altar when I said Mass as a priest. And is now on my desk where I write. I sometimes wonder about its origin. Yet above all it is the emotional attachment that makes it special.

31 October 2019

This is the traditional hymn for Compline. I was thinking about it before. I have always liked the melody.

I was think, in fact, that I should start praying the Office again. Maybe start with Compline?! The 1928 Prayer Book has a nice version. Maybe tonight!?

#ThomasMerton May 1, 1961

I have been reading “Turning towards the World”, volume 4 of Thomas Merton’s journals. I always get much out of reading Merton, especially his journals. There is something very human about it all – the minor concerns and the major discussions all in a private context.

I read the above, from the entry for 1 May 1961, yesterday and was struck by the last sentence. I am exhausted from talking. And, yes, I have build an image of myself as someone who has something to say. But mostly I am exhausted because I want to talk to people about real things and not the weather or the latest specials at the supermarket. There is so much noise in the world that likes to parade as conversation but is really just space-fillers. So rather than talk for the sake of talking, I am silent. Maybe I am just rude?!

rethink?!

I have not written in a while. No reason! But I thought a change is as good as a holiday so …

I have changed the name of the blog to my mostly anxiety driven life – or my MAD life.

I have also set up a podcast with the same name – go and follow. I think I have learned enough from the podcasts via WordPress that I can now graduate to some real hosting.

I have returned to reading Merton’s journals. They always seem to connect with me on a very basic level. They are human! Like with Kierkegaard, I wish I could have met him and had a cup of tea and a chat.

And I am sick – I have an infection that has required antibiotics. I am not a good patient.

But the biggest change is that we have gone back to the Anglican Church. We have been to the local parish for the last three weeks. It is a complete change from everything in our past but somehow it fits. The Vicar is extremely kind and loving – she remembered all our children’s names after one week! The people are “Anglican” – diverse but human. To contrast that the senior pastor at the megachurch we were attending ones got the name of a person who was dying wrong during the announcements.

Not sure if that helps anything or anyone.