Carey

“I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered.”

As J. R. R. Tolkien correctly observed the ‘Church’ of ‘England’ is “a pathetic and shadowy medley of half-remembered traditions and mutilated beliefs”. A priest once told me that, when he had been serving as a University Chaplain some years before, he had arranged to be able to celebrate the Mass for the students in one of the side chapels of a stolen mediaeval cathedral. When the Catholic students and their chaplain emerged after Mass they found they had been forgotten about, the cathedral had been closed and there were men scurrying around covering up every Christian image in the building in black cloth. The cathedral officials were mortified when they found the Catholics seeking a way out. The building was being re-ordered in preparation for a masonic ceremony. I do not know how saturated in masonry the  ‘Church’ of ‘England’ still is. Perhaps it is no longer necessary as the open profession of Deism would be quite conservative in the ‘C’of’E’ today and agnosticism would probably put you on the centre ground. Today we have a splendidly timed intervention from former ‘Archbishop’ of ‘Canterbury’ Lord Carey in favour of assisted suicide. Lord Carey has been positioning himself as a touch more interested in Christianity than the rest of them for the last few years, so this will have that much more of an impact.

I mention Freemasonry because it is really hard to explain the behaviour of the Anglicans except as an attempt to pose as a national Christian organisation in order to sell out on every important point at just the right moment  salving consciences and easing the path to national apostasy and ruin. Some Anglican bishop was once asked about his position on abortion and he replied “one must never do evil that good may come of it apart from in exceptional circumstances”. Perhaps the ‘C’ of ‘E’ could adopt that as a sort of motto. Carey has apparently remarked in explanation of his new enthusiasm for the cause of death “Today we face a central paradox. In strictly observing the sanctity of life, the Church could now actually be promoting anguish and pain, the very opposite of a Christian message of hope.” Gosh what an insight. Although I seem to remember anguish and pain being tied up with the human condition in some way and even the founder of Christianity finding some use for them but I am not sure about the details. I think I read it in book somewhere.

Lord Carey also remarks that the law as it stands risks “undermining the principle of human concern which should lie at the heart of our society”. “Our society” there is the problem. Christians do not belong to this society. Friendship with it is enmity with God. Anglicanism is a chaplaincy to the City of World but the Catholic priest as he kneels before the altar every day beseeches his Lord “Judica me Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta”. “The fact is that I have changed my mind” Lord Carey goes on “The old philosophical certainties have collapsed in the face of the reality of needless suffering.” The old philosophical certainties never collapse Lord Carey that is why they are old, that is why they are certainties. “If anyone says that it is possible that at some time, given the advancement of science, a sense may be assigned to the dogmas propounded by the Church which is different from that which the Church has understood and understands: let him be anathema.” This is why the rejection of Scholasticism in general and Thomism in particular is so important to the strategy of modernists working ‘within’ the visible Catholic Church.

In some ways one imagines the establishment of the Anglican pagan civic cult shields religiosity from the more ferocious attacks of the  nineteenth-century-continental style secularism of Dawkins and co. Even if that is true I am not sure any more it is a price worth paying. Perhaps a straight fight would be better for souls. I once had an argument with another of the Laodiceans about St Mary’s ‘Episcopalian’ ‘Cathedral’ in Edinburgh. My general programme for when the King comes back over the water is for all the property of the Anglican conventicle to be seized and handed over to the Church and then the remaining adherents of Anglicanism to be reduced to servitude until they have paid of the difference between the proportion of national wealth possessed by the Dioceses and Religious Orders in 1560 or 1532 and the proportion they will yield upon the restoration. As a result I was rather looking forward to taking over St Mary’s ‘Cathedral’. I thought of it rather as of a brand new church building that had never been used for Christian worship but had been used as a wine bar or brothel for a number of years.  Some exorcisms and blessings, perhaps a hose down with holy water, and it should be ready for service. My fellow Laodicean was horrified at this suggestion. She insisted that the structure must be torn down stone by stone, the rafters incinerated and cast to the winds, the stones ground into dust and thrown into the Atlantic, the foundations raised and burned, and salt sown into the earth where once it stood so that nothing might grow on that accursed spot ever again. I am beginning to think she was right.

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