The Rationale of the Two Swords

The Ecumenical Councils of Trent and Vatican I and the Creed of Pius IV all require us to:

…accept the Holy Scripture according to that sense which holy mother the Church hath held, and doth hold, and to whom it belongeth to judge the true sense and interpretations of the Scriptures [and] never take and interpret them otherwise than according to the unanimous consent of the Fathers.

If is often said that the Church has, in fact, only very rarely defined the precise meaning of a biblical passage. Whether or not that is true one clear instance of such a definition is the Bull Unam Sanctam which has very precise teaching concerning Luke 22:35-38 and John 18:11. In ordering the disciples to buy a sword if they had not one already, and in telling them that two swords are enough, and in ordering Peter to sheath his sword Our Lord laid out the precise nature of the jurisdiction of the sacramental hierarchy and  the Supreme Pontiff over the temporal power.

Both the temporal and the spiritual power are intrinsic to the Church. The spiritual sword is to be exercised for the specific ends for which the Church was instituted and by the members of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. In contrast, the temporal sword must be exercised by members of the Church but cannot be wielded by the members of the ecclesiastical hierarchy (although they may confiscate it if it is misused and assign it to another) because it is not a means by which the specific ends of the Church may be advanced.

What rarely seems to attract much notice is the reason Our Lord gave for this arrangement:

And he said to them: When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and shoes, did you want anything? But they said: Nothing. Then said he unto them: But now he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise a scrip; and he that hath not, let him sell his coat, and buy a sword. For I say to you, that this that is written must yet be fulfilled in me: And with the wicked was he reckoned. For the things concerning me have an end. But they said: Lord, behold here are two swords. And he said to them, It is enough.

The apostles are told to obtain a sword because Christ will be treated as a criminal. As Our Lord also said at the Last Supper “the servant is not greater than his master. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you: if they have kept my word, they will keep yours also.” The opposition between the Church and the world is such that the Apostles (and their successors) need to have the protection of force in order to function. Yet, a short time later when Peter uses his sword to try to defend the Lord he is rebuked. “Put up thy sword into thy scabbard”. The Apostles have two swords but they are permitted to wield only one. The word of God is in the power of the clergy the state is to be in the power of the laity.

How does this fit with the prohibition on coercive conversion? The temporal sword of Christendom is essentially defensive. It is not ‘for’ the Church as Boniface VIII insists, it is wielded ‘by’ the Church (the lay faithful). The essential purposes of the Church cannot be advanced by violence but the non-ordained members of the Church can use the temporal sword to defend the Church from external persecution. Once the state is no longer in the hands of the Church this is not possible. So long as the state is non-Christian the Church’s business lies in buying the sword (bringing the temporal order by consent into the possession of the Church). Once it is purchased the sword may be drawn – but only by the laity – to stave off temporal impediments to the operation of the spiritual sword. We do not live by the sword. The life of Christendom is established and maintained by the peaceful spreading of the Gospel. However, once that life has reached the highest temporal level of social organisation the temporal sword can and should be drawn in its defence.

As St Cyril of Alexandria teaches:

He says sell his cloak, and buy a sword: for henceforth the question with all those who continue in the land will not be whether they possess anything or not, but whether they can exist and preserve their lives. For war shall befall them with such unendurable impetuosity, that nothing shall be able to stand against it.

At the beginning of the Song of Roland Charlemagne (in deference to his council) seeks to negotiate a temporal peace with Islam. He seeks to keep his cloak instead of buying a sword. He forgets the truth that he remembers later in the midst of battle with the Emir of Babylon: “Never to Paynims may I show love or peace.” The Lord tells us “the things concerning me have an end” there is no new revelation to dispense us from the unremitting opposition of the world. As Leo XIII teaches “Christians are born for combat”. The faithful must sell their cloaks and buy a sword because the state cannot simply be left in the hands of the pagans if the Church is to survive. This is why the Song ends with a weary Emperor roused from his bed by St Gabriel to carry on the war. He sought not first the Kingdom of God and His justice and so earthly peace is taken from him until he learns his lesson.

 

Jeremy Corbyn sets up inquiry into Labour Antisemitism and… Islamophobia

What a joke. Islam is code of belief and practice that one may adhere to or reject in whole or part. If I wish to disapprove of Islam and (in proportion to their freedom in the matter) its adherents I bloody well shall. In regard to persons who have no responsibility for their adherence to Islam (minors, the simple, the inculpably ignorant and oppressed women) I might still oppose their emigration to the United Kingdom simply because the bankrupt secular culture of the UK cannot fail to be overwhelmed by the infusion of multitudes from a coherent and vigorous rival civilisation. Disapproval of someone’s ethnicity on the other hand is irrational and immoral. The very equation of anti-Semitism and ‘Islamophobia’ is anti-Semitic. I do not suppose Jeremy Corbyn disapproves of Jewish ethnicity per se. He disapproves of the existence of the state of Israel. The problem now is that the state of Israel is a fact. To position ‘I have nothing against the French. I just want to deport them to Canada and partition their country between Germany and Spain’ is difficult to distinguish from just being anti-French. The Islamic vote upon which Labour is increasingly dependent does indeed disapprove of the ethnicity of the Jews per se and adheres to a religion which looks forward to the eventual genocide of all Jews who do not convert to Islam. I, along with Western Civilisation as a whole, accept the great bulk of Judaism as true and good but lament the failure of its adherents to recognise the Messiah. Corbyn rejects Judaism as a whole and finds the ultimately supernatural basis of its claim to the Holy Land deeply offensive. This is the ultimate root of non-Islamic left-wing anti-Semitism. The Left are the vanguard of the Enlightenment. The Enlightenment is a movement to eliminate divine revelation as a source of public policy and public law. The destruction of confessional schools, of the diplomatic recognition of the Holy See, the National Anthem, the Coronation and the state of Israel, are necessarily essential aims of the Left. Islam may not be their ideology of choice but they sympathise with its internationalism and its willingness to use violence to advance its cause. As Burke said of them in the first flush of their victory “to those who have observed the spirit of their conduct, it has long been clear that nothing was wanted but the power of carrying the intolerance of the tongue and of the pen into a persecution which would strike at property, liberty, and life.”

 

The Idolatry of William Lane Craig

Yesterday I re-read Bl. John Henry Newman’s brutal analysis of Protestants as non-believers. Today it was rather startling to be reminded that so many of them do not even believe in God. I remember once reading a Protestant writer’s analysis of whether Mormons are Christian. I was stunned to read him approach the question through the doctrine of justification. “Do Mormons truly trust in Jesus for their salvation?”. He never even raised the fact that they do not even believe in God! He never considered that, as atheists, Mormons cannot possibly believe in God Incarnate and thus whatever it is to which they attach the name ‘Jesus’ it will not save them from their sins. Listening to Craig’s words above I cannot help but wonder how common this kind of paganism is among the children of the Reformation. See: Feser’s (extremely courteous) response and Hart’s slightly more aggressive (he calls Craig a ‘mono-polytheist’) Greek Orthodox analysis of Craig’s position.

May the most holy, most sacred, most adorable,

most incomprehensible and ineffable Name of God

be forever praised, blessed, loved, adored

and glorified in Heaven, on earth,

and under the earth,

by all the creatures of God,

and by the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ,

in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.

Amen.

 

The Four Chariots

The prophet Zechariah once had a vision of four successive chariots, each pulled by a pair of horses, emerging between two brazen mountains. The first pair of horses were red, the second black, the third white and the fourth were grey and strong. What does it all mean, he asked the angel?

The angel told him:

These are the four winds of the heaven, which go forth to stand before the Lord of all the earth. That in which were the black horses went forth into the land of the north, and the white went forth after them: and the grisled went forth to the land of the south. And they that were most strong, went out, and sought to go, and to run to and fro through all the earth.

Adapting an exposition of Pope Gregory IX, we can see this as a reference to the four great religious rules in the Church. The earliest is that of St Basil. He is symbolized by the red or chestnut horses, since this is the closest a horse can be to the imperial colour: and his very name means king or emperor. His horses are not said to go to some new location, since Catholic religious life in the East has on the whole not moved far, down the centuries, from those places where it began.

The black horses represent the rule of St Benedict, and in their chariot are the black monks. Starting in Monte Cassino, or Nursia if you prefer, they “went forth into the land of the north,” and filled it with their monasteries.

The white horses stand for the rule of St Augustine. Why do these ‘go forth after’ the black ones, when Augustine lived a hundred years before Benedict? Perhaps because the Orders which have perpetuated his rule in the Church are ones that came later – the Premonstratensians and the Dominicans. These Orders also go forth after, that is, imitate, the Benedictines in being committed to a solemn choral office. The religious of these two Orders wear white, hence the white horses.

The last of the great rules is that of St Francis, symbolised by the strong, grey horses pulling his chariot of grey friars. Why do they go to the land of the south? At first I wondered if this could be a reference to the evangelisation of South America; but the Dominicans were prominent in this as well. Perhaps then it stands for some future great effort of evangelisation of the Muslims, foreshadowed by the early Franciscan martyrs of north Africa, and by St Francis’s own attempt, ultimately successful according to the Fioretti, to convert the sultan of Egypt. May then the strong sons of Francis go forth against the sons of Mahomet and slay them, with the sword not of steel but of the Spirit!

 

The silence of the oracles

From Plutarch’s essay “On the failing of the oracles”.

The father of Aemilianus the orator, to whom some of you have listened, was Epitherses, who lived in our town and was my teacher in grammar. He said that once upon a time in making a voyage to Italy he embarked on a ship carrying freight and many passengers. It was already evening when, near the Echinades Islands, the wind dropped, and the ship drifted near Paxi. Almost everybody was awake, and a good many had not finished their after-dinner wine. Suddenly from the island of Paxi was heard the voice of someone loudly calling Thamus, so that all were amazed. Thamus was an Egyptian pilot, not known by name even to many on board. Twice he was called and made no reply, but the third time he answered; and the caller, raising his voice, said, ‘When you come opposite to Palodes, announce that Great Pan is dead.’

On hearing this, all, said Epitherses, were astounded and reasoned among themselves whether it were better to carry out the order or to refuse to meddle and let the matter go. Under the circumstances Thamus made up his mind that if there should be a breeze, he would sail past and keep quiet, but with no wind and a smooth sea about the place he would announce what he had heard. So, when he came opposite Palodes, and there was neither wind nor wave, Thamus from the stern, looking toward the land, said the words as he had heard them: ‘Great Pan is dead.’ Even before he had finished there was a great cry of lamentation, not of one person, but of many, mingled with exclamations of amazement. As many persons were on the vessel, the story was soon spread abroad in Rome, and Thamus was sent for by Tiberius Caesar. Tiberius became so convinced of the truth of the story that he caused an inquiry and investigation to be made about Pan; and the scholars, who were numerous at his court, conjectured that he was the son born of Hermes and Penelope.

 

Suffering for Christ

 

Exorcised Salt vs The Tarot

There is a new clairvoyant, psychic, crystal ball, and tarot reading shop on my way to work, manned by two overweight elderly clairvoyants, without many customers.  I wondered about laying down some exorcised salt along the threshold of the establishment to protect myself and others along their daily perambulation. How densely sprinkled should this be? Also, how does the conversation with the PP go asking for some – thoughts?

PS I’m a new blogger here, Catholic ice-cream with a medical flake in an Irish cone, drizzled with English and Scottish butterscotch.

 

Jephthah and John Paul

What should we think of the impending canonisation of Pope John Paul II? I met someone shortly after the pope’s death who said that if John Paul II was canonised, he would become a sede-vacantist. I hope he was simply letting off steam; but his words point to a real problem that cannot be solved simply by ignoring it.

Of course I am happy to acknowledge all the great qualities of the late pontiff, and not only his natural ones such as linguistic talent and ‘stage-presence’, but also his supernatural ones. We perhaps do not reflect enough, for example, on the courage that must have been required every time he came into St Peter’s Square, or any other public place, after the assassination attempt. There can be no doubt, either, of his personal love for Jesus Christ, his devotion to prayer and to duty usque ad mortem, his piety to our Lady and his boldness in speaking unwelcome truths to the world’s rulers, especially about abortion.

Yet there are also the facts that have disconcerted many. What would St Pius X have made, we ask, of the Assisi prayer meetings? What of the late pope’s participation, according to the Osservatore Romano itself, in a pagan ceremony in Africa? What of the kissing of the Koran, and the public prayer to St John the Baptist to bless Islam? These and similar questions led to the drawing up of an international ‘Statement of Reservations’ before the beatification in 2011.

Perhaps the Old Testament figure of Jephthah can aid us in our perplexity. In the book of Judges, chapter 11, he vows before going into battle that if God grants him victory he will sacrifice the first living thing that comes out of his house on his returns. He does win, his daughter is the first living thing to come out of the house, and he reluctantly fulfils his vow. Hardly saint-like material, we might think. St Thomas Aquinas quotes St Jerome’s assessment: ‘he was foolish in making his vow and impious in fulfilling it’. Yet, turning to the New Testament, we find Jephthah canonised by the Holy Ghost in the 11th chapter of Hebrews.

To reconcile these biblical passages, some have proposed that Jephthah received a special inspiration from God to act as he did. Cornelius a Lapide thinks it unnecessary to posit this. What Jephthah did, he tells us, was certainly wrong, but he was a soldier with a simple mentality who believed it necessary to fulfil the vow once he had made it. Sacrificing his daughter was grave matter, but not a mortal sin, as he lacked a clear perception of the wrongness of the action. It was, in fact, compatible with a real determination to do the will of God cost what it may.

I wonder if it would be impertinent to draw an analogy with Karol Wojtyla. Certainly he did not have the rustic simplicity of a Jephthah to mislead him. But he had, I think, something else that prevented him from seeing certain things as they are: a false theology of religions. He genuinely believed that Christ and the Holy Spirit were operating through non-Christian religions to bring about the sanctification of those who pursued them in good faith. This was a serious error, yet it was in his case compatible with a great purity of heart and a desire to do the will of God. It will be for this purity of intention that he will be canonised, as Jephthah has been.

 

Modest proposal: map

[revised 4th June] Having taken into account the comments of Aelianus with regard to the last post but one and some further thoughts of my own, I propose the following interim division of England.

 

A modest proposal for the governance of England

A wise and pacific French Dominican whom I once knew, an expert on Arabic and Islam who had lived many years in Egypt, used to remark that once that religion had entered a country, history showed only two alternatives. Either it gradually spread until it became the dominant force in the country, or else it was driven out by the sword.

Given the high and ever-rising number of Muslims in England, I wonder if the time has come to apply the solution which King Alfred used with regard to the Vikings after the battle of Ethandune, namely to cut off part of the country and allow them to govern it on condition that they didn’t cross over their borders. This would in turn naturally lead us back to what I believe is the even more ancient idea of England as divided into three kingdoms. Only, instead of Mercia, Wessex and Northumbria we could have the Muslims, the Catholics and the Secularists. The exact division of these territories could be settled by a summit meeting of the archbishop of Westminster, the President of the Muslim Council of Great Britain and the Director-General of the BBC.

I propose that the Secularists should have a court, or rather an endless succession of coalition governments elected by PR, based somewhere in north London, perhaps Islington or Hampstead. They could have the south of England, extending as far north as the Midlands and to the eastern suburbs of Oxford in the West, say to the Iffley Road just before you get to Greyfriars. This territory would therefore include East Anglia, but Walsingham would be reserved for the Catholics, a bit like La Rochelle in the 17th Century only in reverse. Walsingham could be ruled by twelve Guardians, who would have the right to try all but capital crimes.

The Muslims could have a caliphate centred, perhaps, on Bradford, and coming down as far as south and west as Birmingham inclusively. It need go no higher than York, I think, to suffice for their needs, which would create an amplified Ealdormanry of Northumbria as a buffer zone against the Scotch. We would have the rest of England, with our capital in Glastonbury. It would be ruled, subsidiarity being duly respected, by a descendant of James II nominated by the Pope after consultation with the the Duke of Bavaria and the head of the House of Hapsburg. The Anglicans and non-conformists would be allowed to decide which of the three realms they felt was their spiritual home. That would still leave the Hindus and Sikhs, of course, but perhaps they could partition the Isle of Man.

Teething problems in relations between the three realms could be settled by meetings of ambassadors at Crewe, which would be reasonably central and convenient for rail access. For this purpose I should be inclined to grant Crewe independence of all other jurisdictions, apart, of course, from that of the Roman Pontiff. Its supreme legislature would therefore be the town council, presided over by a Stationmaster-General. Within his territory he would rank as ceremonially equal to the heads of state of the three principal realms, and would have the right to have crossed flags borne before him in processions.

Since we should have Walsingham as an extra-territorial dependency, I should also be inclined for the sake of peace to grant something similar to the other two realms. The Muslims could have Luton. What of the secularists? Somewhat reluctantly, I suggest conceding them Hay-on-Wye. It would make a nice holiday destination if foreign travel were to become too expensive or dangerous, and they could go there to praise each other’s books.

This division would not last for many generations. The Secularists would wither away owing to birth-control, and we could easily re-take London, perhaps having first recovered and reconciled Canterbury Cathedral. The Muslims would multiply, as would we. We would send them missionaries, and perhaps our Lady of Fatima would intervene to bring about a wonderful conversion. If on the other hand the Sultan of Bradford forbade them to preach in his domain, the Roman pontiff could grant us the right to invade his territory to vindicate the rights of the faith. After a long and glorious reconquista the realm would again enjoy true peace.

Ridiculous? Of course. Yet no more ridiculous than if one had told a Tory MP in 1913 that in 100 years time, his party would propose that men should marry each other.