Letter From Highclere Rev. John Francis Emerson

When I first heard of the public meeting to be held in London by a group of conservative Catholics, who would there prepare a series of resolutions for presentation to the Pope and the Bishops of England and Wales, I reacted with a certain cynicism. The group, calling itself "Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice," proposed to discuss the usual topics, to formulate resolutions based upon those discussions, and, presenting these resolutions to the ecclesiastical authorities, to ask that they might be put into effect. Liturgy, Morality, Catechetics, and Ecumenism were to be the principle matters for discussion. Gradually, curiosity got the better of cynicism (not a very helpful attitude, after all), and I drove up to London on the appointed day.

My destination was Porchester Hall, a grand if slightly decaying edifice, all gilt and jaded red plush. I arrived, wet from the rain, just in time to hear the Chairman, Sir John Biggs-Davison, M.P., announce the names of the day's major speakers. These included Professor Elisabeth Anscombe, a famously obscure philosopher from Cambridge University, well-known for her habit of smoking cigars as she lectures, and the Honorable Christopher Monckton, heir to a viscounty and winner of undying fame as the brave young editor of The Universe who recently upset the bishops with his discovery that some 909? of his readers wanted the old Mass back, and in Latin too, if you please! The result, oddly, was not the return of the Mass, but his own speedy and enforced resignation. As Sir John introduced the first speaker, I glanced through the list of those who, comprising the "Committee of Honour," had lent at least their names in support of what was about to take place. Some were very well known: the composer, Sir Lennox Berkeley, Sir Hugh Fraser, M.P., the novelist Bruce Marshall, Lord Rawlinson, a former Attorney General, Sir Ralph Richardson (who later in the day gave us a beautiful reading of the first lines of St. John's Gospel), Sir Patrick Wall, M.P., and Auberon Waugh, journalist and son of Evelyn Waugh, the great novelist who died of a broken heart on Easter Day in 1966, the first, perhaps, of Vatican II's many victims. A number of other names had a faintly Ruritarian ring to them, but how much poorer we would all be without the likes of Lt.-Col. Alastair Cranstoun of that Ilk, Mr. Antony Hornyhold, Duke of Gandolfi, or Prince Rupert von Lowenstein!

As the first speech wore on, condemning this or that "abuse" of the New Liturgy, I felt my cynicism beginning to return. Such meetings, I thought, ignored when not condemned by the bishops and the media, often leave the traditionally-minded but docile Catholic with the idea that something has now been done, that this time the cry of anguish will get through to Pope and bishops, who, hearts touched and consciences pricked, will at last move to restore the Mass and to crush the Modernist conspirators underfoot. This convenient and rather touchingly sentimental view has only one flaw: twenty years after the opening of the Council, "Modernist conspirators" and "national episcopates" have become virtually interchangeable terms. Thus an appeal to the Bishops of England and Wales on matters of Faith and Morals is as futile and, were it not desperately sad, even a laughable enterprise.

But what of the Pope? Surely he will respond with favor to calls for liturgical order and moral discipline? Well, yes, but not in a way necessarily calculated to satisfy traditionalists. Take the liturgy. It should be clear to the blindest papalator by now that John Paul II desires liturgical order within, and only within, the context of the New Mass. He was the first bishop in Poland to introduce the vernacular, the Novus Ordo, and Mass facing the people. He has never, as bishop, cardinal, or pope, shown the slightest understanding of the real point of the Mass controversy. He appears, indeed, to take the shallowest view possible and to see it as a mere fuss over Latin. When asked by four normally influential cardinals last November to give some parity to the Tridentine rite, his response was as firm a "no" as ever Paul VI was pleased to give.

Thus my renewed cynicism. But after a time some interesting things began to happen. Let me explain.

The principal speakers and organizers of the event were, it was plain, determined to get resolutions passed of a moderate kind, calculated to annoy the Bishops to the least possible degree. Thus a resolution was confidently put forward that Communion in the hand should be allowed by all means, but only to those who had been confirmed. The priest who recommended this approach warned us that anything more severe would be seen by the bishops as evidence of our hopeless extremism, to the discredit of the meeting as a whole.

It was an argument calculated in normal times to appeal to English hearts, foreign as they like to appear from anything which deviates from the most perfect moderation and good sense. But this time, to my surprise and delight, they would have none of it! They booed, they hissed, some even seemed to stamp their feet. They would not be quieted until the resolution was rewritten to demand the total abolition of a practice whose abominable consequences for Faith and due reverence for the Blessed Sacrament are notorious to anyone who still retains a modicum of either virtue. And so the meeting continued, to the increasing delight of the "Lefebvrists" present (so we are called by the Wanderer-types over here). A resolution, brilliantly introduced by Michael Davies, calling for the restoration of the Tridentine Mass was put to the vote only after repeated insistence from the floor. This too, no doubt, was extreme, and likely to annoy Their Lordships of Westminster, Liverpool, and the flat marshlands of East Anglia, where lurks the Grendel-like figure of Bishop Alan Clark, a sort of English version of Rembert Weakland. In the event, the moderates' fears were amply confirmed, as the resolution passed, amidst much cheering, with only 38 votes counted against it (there were over one thousand people present).

The moderates, in the person of Lord Rawlinson, made one last attempt to muddy the waters. The speeches on morality had gone splendidly, the bishops had been properly shown up for the prevaricating cowards they are, and a fine, hard-hitting resolution was the expected result. But His Lordship (who nevertheless said at least one good thing: that however fruitful the meeting might be, its very necessity made this a solemn and sad day in the history of English Catholicism) could come up with nothing better than a vague expression of hope that His Holiness the Pope would speak out about the great moral issues of the time. The trouble with this, as everyone immediately saw, was that the Modernist sees the "great moral issues of the time" as El Salvador, women's rights, and the redistribution of wealth. In the end, the resolution was first passed, then withdrawn and reworded to make it as plain as day that the moral issues of immediate concern are artificial birth control, abortion, euthanasia (much practised, it is said, in the delightful nursing homes of England's welfare state), and the total breakdown of family life. It is no exaggeration to say that if the Pope does not condemn these terrible sins, Satan will have won a very famous victory indeed in a country already less Christian and more profoundly secularized than any in Europe, the horrors of Scandanavia excepted.

At that point, the moderate leadership seemed to give in with some relief. Indeed, it seemed that the generals had been galvanized and given courage by the example of the troops, who had led their leaders into doing battle where they had wanted no more than a gentlemanly discussion.

Episcopal response was not slow in coming. The most excitable of their number, Bishop Lindsay of Newcastle, broke into print in both The Universe and the Catholic Herald about a week later. The message of both letters was roughly the same: how dare anyone criticize us, we say that everything is just dandy, and that is an end to the matter! Don't think about it, just obey and keep quiet. The Pope is on our side, the Bishop went on, Why, he just loves our Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC). Bishop Lindsay was unlucky here: the same issue headlines a "Herald Exclusive" on page one: "POPE SET TO FEND OFF INFALLIBILITY CHALLENGE: Vatican uneasy about ARCIC report on Church and Anglicans." They had better be uneasy. Listen to this: "[Infallibility] is a term applicable unconditionally only to God, and to use it of a human being, even in highly restricted circumstances, can produce many misunderstandings. This is why, in stating our belief in the preservation of the Church from error, we have avoided using the term." The first sentence is a fair statement: unconditional infallibility does apply only to God, and its very limited application to certain acts of the Papal magisterium has led to any number of misunderstandings. It is the second sentence which, in the mouth of a Catholic bishop, or indeed any Catholic, is scandalous. No Catholic has any right to avoid using the term "infallibility" when speaking of the Church's, or indeed the Pope's, preservation from error in certain well defined circumstances. Papal infallibility is a dogma of the Faith. To deny it, even to ignore it in explaining the Faith to Anglicans, is a dereliction of duty, treason against God and against man, who must have the fullness of Truth if he is to be saved. Bishop Lindsay bids us follow him along this path of betrayal. No, my Lord, not for all the episcopal smiles in the world.

I would like to end this letter on a happy note and, thanks to the intercession of St. Joseph and the industry of Father Black, I am able to do so. After long searching and many disappointments, the traditional Catholics of England have obtained a church in London, their capital city. It is a small church in the neo-gothic style, with a seating capacity of some 250. It has dark wood fittings, a fine vaulted timber ceiling, and a number of elegant stained-glass windows in perfect repair. The general condition of the church will allow us to have begun regular Sunday Masses there by the time you read this letter. Full renovation will not be completed until the autumn, when it is expected that Archbishop Lefebvre will perform the ceremony of dedication.

You in America well know what a difference the possession of a permanent church building makes in the life of your communities. We invite you to join with us in our prayers that the same growth in numbers and in zeal will be realized here, and we invite all of you who find yourselves in London to join with us in celebrating the Holy Mass at the Church of St. Joseph and St. Padarn, Salterton Road, Holloway, London N7 (on the underground: Holloway Road, Picadilly Line).

Father Emerson, an American, was ordained to the Holy Priesthood by His Grace Archbishop Lefebvre in 1981. He is stationed at the Society of St. Pius X's house in Highclere, near London, and travels a Mass circuit throughout the United Kingdom. Father Edward Black, to whom Father Emerson referred, is District Superior of the Society in England.