Wish I could say that reading this made me happy this morning, but that is not the case.
It is hard watching so much that I love punched down into ruin, and stupidly enough, too, without even looking at this old well, which has its pendants in France, too.
I think that free, running water may depend to a certain extent on having debris cleared away from it at least occasionally, if not regularly. May.
Last night in a movie theater, I realized for the second time recently that the + sign in Canal + is actually a cross which has been shortened. That... did not make me happy, either.
That said, sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that the Church, as institution, was into telling people exactly what to think on a grand scale. It eases my nostalgia for things that I never knew...
In "evangelising for the Church" and "evangelising against the Church", you can still see both "evangelising" and "Church"...
I realized with awe the other day that negation is not a symmetrical operation to a positive declaration. The implications of this phrase are incredibly complex, though somewhat abstract for most people.
“negation is not a symmetrical operation to a positive declaration,” this profound phrase is something I need to contemplate deeply. Thank you for sharing this!
Yes, Heather, this kind of phrase is what I call looking into the abyss. Not to be done without good friends, a life, responsibilities to keep us anchored.
Thank you Paul. I love reading these pieces every Sunday.
One question: do you have any idea (other than the numinous one hinted at in your description) why the waters have stopped running?
I also fell to wondering whether a campaign to reconstitute these wells (perhaps 'reconsecrate' would be better) would be worthwhile; reinvigorate the old tradition of doing the rounds etc.
It might be a small, spiritual line in he sand at a time when the dominance of The Machine seems near total.
Or perhaps we have to accept that what's past is past and that we need new consecrations for the times to come.
Paul, sorry to pester you, but are the people who are revamping old wells doing it as individuals/small groups, or is there any attempt at doing this in a co-ordinated way?
I believe there is an organisation (a charity) that tries to save and restore abandoned churches in the UK. I wonder if we could contemplate something similar for holy wells in the UK and Ireland.
Scroll down to Nov 2nd and see 3 Holy Wells! smile
Nov 2
"The church at Gumfreston, Pembrokeshire is deeply special. It nestles into a clearing in a woodland, where three holy wells gurgle. The asymmetrical west porch with its corbelled roof is believed to be the oldest part, perhaps even the original chapel."
NB I have been contemplating why so many neglected churches turn up in Wales. These Holy wells look pretty good though.
I have followed Friendless Churches for a while now and am so grateful for what they do.
Reading the biography of JL Carr, The Last Englishman, who wrote that most exquisite of novels A Month in the Country, and his involvement in trying to save a church near him and I think helping FC to establish itself (it’s a while since I read it, I may have misremembered).
We have just saved a very isolated local rural church from heading onto their books after the diocese announced they had done a survey and would be closing it. I don’t think they had bargained for the groundswell of support and love for the place which swung into action and their decision was eventually reversed.
I took heart from that; people do still care about these ancient places.
I don't know of anything national in Ireland. Wells here have always been very much a local concern. I would be wary of NGO involvement myself. Government money brings bureacuracy and sameness and centralisation. I'd prefer local people to do their bit if they feel inclined.
Mostly likely, any restoration of a particular well will start with one person "deputizing" themselves to be the keeper of the well. Perhaps later, others will follow suit. I believe that restoration of the wells and their traditions should grow organically and, as you suggest, with room for new consecrations, as the spirit leads people.
I wonder if the construction of the roads had an effect on the well waters. I don't know this particular spot, but it sounds from Paul's description as though the roads have also restricted access to the well.
Ivy is quick and brambles quicker. The trees will come. I guess you might date it to when the road was modernised and its foundations and drainage altered the lie of the land. One can guess the brambles and trees will come for the road in due time.
Names last longer, tears and love even longer - memory return fresh to the land.
“But the power is fading now. This well is dry. And I wonder what came first: the end of the flowing waters, or the end of the visits from the people. Which is cause, and which effect?”
Hi Paul, here’s a thought on this early Maine morning…Holy Water can only flow if it’s not obstructed. Flowing water is a gift (we did not manufacture it) and like a gift is meant to be given and received freely, not coerced and controlled. This makes me think of the monologue in Andrei Tarkovsky’s‘s film Sacrifice. “My mothers garden”. Interesting as I’m watching a very similar situation unfold here. The flowing water has left because of control and the people are now leaving. But the flowing water is infinite and I trust when we are ready to receive the gift again the water will flow.
It seems to me these places actually benefit from their being in some greater or lesser state of ruin, rather than being kept tidily and efficiently dispensing eye-cures and such like strip mall vending machines.
Couple of years back I had chance to see the suburban shopping mall of my late teens while visiting upstate New York for the first time in nearly 40 years. It was there I'd found my first job, and first girlfriends, and got up to all the typical day-glo stupidities of American teens in the early eighties. And this once mighty flagship of American consumerism was now an abandoned ruin. Looking through the dusty doors I could see the boarded-up windows and collapsed ceiling tiles. The once teeming parking lot was empty and everywhere cracked by spunky weeds enthusiastically pushing through the pavement.
And I was simultaneously gut-punched by a wave of nostalgia, of being in the presence of the ghosts of my youth, thousands of memories of faces and holidays and summer nights long gone, but also a thrilling sense that I had at last found /proof/ that none of this horrific culture would endure. I actually cried but I was overjoyed.
This self-important place had once been filled with grubby regional managers, security guards, disappointing schedules posted for barely-paid part-time employees. And now it was dead and rapidly decaying, along with the last remnants of the countless petty commercial tyrannies it used to visit on so many. This entire culture is junk in the waiting. Seeing that felt like triumph.
I'm not sure the wells were ever "like strip mall vending machines" but I find your reference to the redundant mall very telling. It also recalls the Ozymandias prom quoted above.
It was a classic mall, not a strip mall. And in fact a dismal, already near-dead strip mall was set up as an annex after it went under. America was already in decline by the 80s but at this point it's a rout. It hardly matters in any event as the "all is vanity" nature of the consumer culture hell-realm has been exposed, at least to my satisfaction YMMV.
I also look forward to these each Sunday. Thank you.
I think the drop in the number of saints is related to the difference between sainthood by acclamation- the local people intimately know an elder, a hermit, who dispenses holy advice, healing, lives a sacrificial life vs. religious orders lobbying for their star members. It isn’t that the latter aren’t saintly, but the small saints carrying huge crosses and following Christ ever so closely get overlooked. The western church forgot in some ways what a Christian life looked like, and fewer were attracted to it.
But Irish saints abroad were a blessing to millions of Catholics.
I love the description you used, being “made a saint by acclamation.” In the Orthodox Church in America, we just were surprised this past week by exactly that phenomenon, as our bishops confirmed what the faithful had known and practiced for a little over forty years, the glorification of an ‘ordinary’ saint, Matushka (term of endearment for a priest’s wife) Olga of Alaska, who died only in 1979, but has been venerated ever since. Icons shall be painted, a service composed in her honor, and she will be formally entered into the calendar. Much rejoicing over this, with hope some more such announcements will soon follow. Time to tie more rags to more trees!
Beautiful, Paul. That line about nature herself playing the role of iconoclast struck me especially. In our forest chapel, the original icons of Christ and Mary I put there a couple of years ago have been sun bleached into basically nothing by now (of course). Of course, you can get UV-resistant coated stuff, etc etc, but I don't take that as the primary lesson. I don't know what I *do* take as the primary lesson, but it seems like one's there.
I’ve encountered faded icon prints on boards, mounted on trees in trails through woods at several monasteries here in America. It’s gently inspiring, I think, to reflect that there are people who remember seeing and venerating them before they began to fade, as if they absorbed some of the initial zeal which led to them being placed there. I’ve also seen wood carved icons and mosaic shrines, which better resist the elements. May we absorb all their blessings!
I still refer to the divine breath by the old-school name of the Holy Ghost, on the grounds that He is spooky and has a way of haunting us. Maybe it's a little like that? The photos look like phantoms, but somehow they give the impression of having ascended to a higher realm as a result.
Perhaps the water and people stopped fairly simultaneously: the major road junction making the flow of people to a private place of worship slow down and at the same time affecting the hydrology of the location.
I'm on the opposite side of the religious journey to you, having been brought up and educated in the roman catholic faith, fully via school and mass until I was 12, then just going through the motions until I had enough courage at the age of 17 to tell my father I wasn't going to mass on a Sunday any more. Throughout my young life, I was always amazed at the hypocrisy and conflict I saw around me all sanctioned by the church who apparently spoke in the name of our god, who gave us the commandments, yet they continually flouted them. I never fully believed that a man-like presence brought us into the world, nor that the sacraments we took part in were recreations of the original events - surely consuming the body and blood of Christ would be cannibalism, wouldn't it? Even as a child I assumed that this was a story to help us deal with the immensity of the universe and to calm our fears about where we were before we were born and what would happen to us after our physical energy expired and we died, and to keep society in some form of regulated behaviour, hence the commandments. As there are many different creation stories, all with similar objectives when it boils down to it, at the age of 64 I have come to the calm conclusion that, yes, a vast power brought our planet and us into being and that we are part of a virtuous cycle of birth, life and death feeding planet and all living beings. However, any organised religion has no further place in my life - I feel it's just a different version of the Machine.
All that said, I still find churches calm and pleasant places to be, the architecture and masonic skill needed to build them is incredibly inspiring. The roadside places you frequently write/speak of also crop up in Brittany,, a land of legend similar to Ireland, and I've often wondered why these specific sites were chosen to erect such statuary. I would be interested to learn more of the schism between east and west though - could you suggest some not too academic reading?
How appropriate to read this at the overcast dawn of my melancholy Sunday. This is very stirring, actually, as I set about tackling the third day of a bad cold, lots of phlegmatic histrionics, with aches of head and joints. Suits the weather and your essay. Staying home from the Divine Liturgy, I hope to rouse myself to pray the Hours and Typika, rather than sit like a stooge watching the Liturgy online. Even the small effort required to do the Typika is something of a podvig for us moderns, and it seems the most appropriate way to honor the Lord’s Day during my ailment. My own rag for St Colman, St Nilus the Myrrhgusher of Mount Athos (whom we celebrate today on the New Calendar), and of course the Lord’s Resurrection. That’s my Wild Christianity for the morning!
For any who might be interested, here is a link to a Life of St Nilus:
I didn't realize what you meant by eyewell until now. Have a story for you, back in the late 80's my Dad had some type of eye problem, he couldnt drive or work. Had one surgery but no results, Dr said he would become blind eventually. He was sitting in Church one Sunday and he said his vision just "opened up" and he could see clear. Went to his Dr and he said he had never seen a reversal like that. He had no eye problems the remainder of his life.
Very powerful. I had an unsettling premonition while reading this that in my children’s and grandchildren’s lifetime, this is what Christianity will become: abandoned relics of the past. But the ending gave me a jolt of hope. Lovely and bracing.
Have you come across Daphne du Maurier’s ‘Vanishing Cornwall’ Paul? She talks also the holy wells and pilgrim paths fast disappearing (now maybe gone altogether) with awe and aching loss though without thinking directly about the Saints and how and Who inspired them and their followers.
I love your articles and ruminating. Thank you Paul
I know this is not about your post today but I was listening to your speech in Wisconsin. I am not a peasant and far from it but I did. ask my oldest if he wanted eggs and I walked out to the chicken coop and got him a fresh free ranged egg. There is something to eating locally and seasonally. Even the eggs yolks change
Personally, I'm of the opinion that the Schism never happened, in the sense that no one had the legal authority to carry it out. If we go with the Pentarchy model of five bishops, then how can one equal kick out another—and also, kick out of what, exactly? And in my understanding, many Catholic and Orthodox believers still had inter-communion for hundreds of years after, because either no one heard or no one cared about the fight between two high-up clergymen at some meeting. It is a de facto reality now, of course, but I don't think it could have been de jure.
All the same, I really am curious what Paul has to say about this too. With all due respect — and by the way I’m a paid subscriber because I’m VERY regularly inspired by what goes on here — I’ve been bothered previously, although rarely, by statements he’s made that seem to assume a perch above his Catholic counterparts, particularly when he judges the kitschiness of certain shrines that might have a more “Catholic” vibe to them simply because they may be aesthetically busier than he prefers. I don’t understand the lure towards Orthodoxy which holds theosis as primary, but then being so excited to differentiate, to share how silly the “other side” is in their exhibitions. Again, I am here with all respect. Not trying to be a smart guy or pull some kind of “gotcha” here. Real question. What’s this schism? And what do we gain by continuing to honor it? (I don’t honor it, by the way)
I'd think it has to do with how after the alleged schism, the Church of the West moved in an increasingly intellectual and abstracted and legalistic direction that downplayed the immanence of God in the world—scholasticism and nominalism and all. And then by severing God from immanence, that set the stage for the current catastrophe of Western civilization. In contrast, one could imagine the Church of the East as having preserved the proper panentheistic spiritual heritage. Being an Eastern Catholic myself, I'm sympathetic to this narrative, although I can also see how it might be a little too neat. But in any case, the issue would then be about two divergent mindsets, not about any schism.
Also, this may sound silly, but: I went to a Latin Mass for the first time on All Saints' Day, and I was disturbed by how the priests kept the wine to themselves. I assume the reason is logistical in nature—but as a poetic matter, it is very, very bad to not share the communion cup. (At my Maronite church, the priest dips the bread in the wine before placing it on the tongue.) So perhaps that also goes along with the dichotomy of legalism in the West versus poetry in the East.
I understand and respect the West-East thing, but I’d really rather not feel pressure to put a “vs” between them. As you point out, the East has preserved something gorgeous, the poetry of which many of us in the “West” deeeeeply appreciate, and often long for. But for better or worse (or neither?) I’m “over here” in the “West” and yet steadfastly subscribed to the One Church, as idealistic and nonsensical as that may sound. I look at nature and I see a process of coalescence, not division. I see nothing wasted, everything utilized. I see nature effortlessly breaking down our very worst and idiotic constructs. Like, I didn’t read this article and despair like many others. Nature, ruled by the Divine, will always have the last word on human affairs. It’s gorgeous to be able to discover all of that treasure underneath the overgrowth. If it must be rerevealed, by all means clear it! And the Unseen dancing through it all, gathering, always gathering, never differentiating or categorizing.
Agreed. In fact, I'm a sort of perennialist who believes that the Logos who is Jesus Christ speaks through all Wisdom in all cultures and places and times—and I would thus like to gather together not only the East and the West, but also all the Wisdom that could be found in Hinduism, in Buddhism, in Taoism, in Sufism, in whatever, wherever and whenever. I'd say that I'm just about as ecumenical as anyone could get, although I do insist on a higher integration of Wisdom in Christ and not just some New Agey "they're all the same thing" slop.
AMEN! All the way yes to this. I’m teaching a class next semester on huxley’s perennial philsophy, along with William James’ “the varieties of religious experience” and also throwing in a sprinkling of David Bohm and his theory of the implicate order, as a treat.
Wish I could say that reading this made me happy this morning, but that is not the case.
It is hard watching so much that I love punched down into ruin, and stupidly enough, too, without even looking at this old well, which has its pendants in France, too.
I think that free, running water may depend to a certain extent on having debris cleared away from it at least occasionally, if not regularly. May.
Last night in a movie theater, I realized for the second time recently that the + sign in Canal + is actually a cross which has been shortened. That... did not make me happy, either.
That said, sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that the Church, as institution, was into telling people exactly what to think on a grand scale. It eases my nostalgia for things that I never knew...
In "evangelising for the Church" and "evangelising against the Church", you can still see both "evangelising" and "Church"...
I realized with awe the other day that negation is not a symmetrical operation to a positive declaration. The implications of this phrase are incredibly complex, though somewhat abstract for most people.
Looking (more) forward to the next well...
“negation is not a symmetrical operation to a positive declaration,” this profound phrase is something I need to contemplate deeply. Thank you for sharing this!
Yes, Heather, this kind of phrase is what I call looking into the abyss. Not to be done without good friends, a life, responsibilities to keep us anchored.
Good luck !
Thank you Paul. I love reading these pieces every Sunday.
One question: do you have any idea (other than the numinous one hinted at in your description) why the waters have stopped running?
I also fell to wondering whether a campaign to reconstitute these wells (perhaps 'reconsecrate' would be better) would be worthwhile; reinvigorate the old tradition of doing the rounds etc.
It might be a small, spiritual line in he sand at a time when the dominance of The Machine seems near total.
Or perhaps we have to accept that what's past is past and that we need new consecrations for the times to come.
Restoration is the (or a) way forward. Some people are already revamping old wells. Nothing is dead unless we let it die.
Paul, sorry to pester you, but are the people who are revamping old wells doing it as individuals/small groups, or is there any attempt at doing this in a co-ordinated way?
I believe there is an organisation (a charity) that tries to save and restore abandoned churches in the UK. I wonder if we could contemplate something similar for holy wells in the UK and Ireland.
I think the British pilgrimage trust does that sort of work?
Yup, Friendless Churches - terrific pics and links on twitter https://twitter.com/friendschurches
Scroll down to Nov 2nd and see 3 Holy Wells! smile
Nov 2
"The church at Gumfreston, Pembrokeshire is deeply special. It nestles into a clearing in a woodland, where three holy wells gurgle. The asymmetrical west porch with its corbelled roof is believed to be the oldest part, perhaps even the original chapel."
NB I have been contemplating why so many neglected churches turn up in Wales. These Holy wells look pretty good though.
Keep an eye on that church. You'll be seeing it here again ...
Needs a visit. Too far for me just now, but I have relatives ... smile. Meanwhile:
https://friendsoffriendlesschurches.org.uk/church/st-lawrence-gumfreston-pembrokeshire/
Would like comment on adjacent different spring, chanlybeate & sulphurous well water ... sounds a touch sophisticated?
I have followed Friendless Churches for a while now and am so grateful for what they do.
Reading the biography of JL Carr, The Last Englishman, who wrote that most exquisite of novels A Month in the Country, and his involvement in trying to save a church near him and I think helping FC to establish itself (it’s a while since I read it, I may have misremembered).
We have just saved a very isolated local rural church from heading onto their books after the diocese announced they had done a survey and would be closing it. I don’t think they had bargained for the groundswell of support and love for the place which swung into action and their decision was eventually reversed.
I took heart from that; people do still care about these ancient places.
i have read of that endeavor. fascinating
I don't know of anything national in Ireland. Wells here have always been very much a local concern. I would be wary of NGO involvement myself. Government money brings bureacuracy and sameness and centralisation. I'd prefer local people to do their bit if they feel inclined.
Agree. Forlorn is better than commodified.
Yes, God forbid that the Government, national or local, would become involved. For each sanitised well site, it's own interpretative centre...
With coffee shop and gift shop.
After the last earthquake, here in Croatia, many wells, from which people n the countryside depended upon, stopped running
Mostly likely, any restoration of a particular well will start with one person "deputizing" themselves to be the keeper of the well. Perhaps later, others will follow suit. I believe that restoration of the wells and their traditions should grow organically and, as you suggest, with room for new consecrations, as the spirit leads people.
I wonder if the construction of the roads had an effect on the well waters. I don't know this particular spot, but it sounds from Paul's description as though the roads have also restricted access to the well.
The last line here makes me think of Shelley's poem "Ozymandias":
"I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'"
So for the moment the well is a wreck, but in the end, what is really going to be the wreck?
Ivy is quick and brambles quicker. The trees will come. I guess you might date it to when the road was modernised and its foundations and drainage altered the lie of the land. One can guess the brambles and trees will come for the road in due time.
Names last longer, tears and love even longer - memory return fresh to the land.
“But the power is fading now. This well is dry. And I wonder what came first: the end of the flowing waters, or the end of the visits from the people. Which is cause, and which effect?”
Hi Paul, here’s a thought on this early Maine morning…Holy Water can only flow if it’s not obstructed. Flowing water is a gift (we did not manufacture it) and like a gift is meant to be given and received freely, not coerced and controlled. This makes me think of the monologue in Andrei Tarkovsky’s‘s film Sacrifice. “My mothers garden”. Interesting as I’m watching a very similar situation unfold here. The flowing water has left because of control and the people are now leaving. But the flowing water is infinite and I trust when we are ready to receive the gift again the water will flow.
It seems to me these places actually benefit from their being in some greater or lesser state of ruin, rather than being kept tidily and efficiently dispensing eye-cures and such like strip mall vending machines.
Couple of years back I had chance to see the suburban shopping mall of my late teens while visiting upstate New York for the first time in nearly 40 years. It was there I'd found my first job, and first girlfriends, and got up to all the typical day-glo stupidities of American teens in the early eighties. And this once mighty flagship of American consumerism was now an abandoned ruin. Looking through the dusty doors I could see the boarded-up windows and collapsed ceiling tiles. The once teeming parking lot was empty and everywhere cracked by spunky weeds enthusiastically pushing through the pavement.
And I was simultaneously gut-punched by a wave of nostalgia, of being in the presence of the ghosts of my youth, thousands of memories of faces and holidays and summer nights long gone, but also a thrilling sense that I had at last found /proof/ that none of this horrific culture would endure. I actually cried but I was overjoyed.
This self-important place had once been filled with grubby regional managers, security guards, disappointing schedules posted for barely-paid part-time employees. And now it was dead and rapidly decaying, along with the last remnants of the countless petty commercial tyrannies it used to visit on so many. This entire culture is junk in the waiting. Seeing that felt like triumph.
I'm not sure the wells were ever "like strip mall vending machines" but I find your reference to the redundant mall very telling. It also recalls the Ozymandias prom quoted above.
Might that strip-mall have become an abandoned ruin only because an even larger purveyor of junk was built elsewhere in the vicinity?
It was a classic mall, not a strip mall. And in fact a dismal, already near-dead strip mall was set up as an annex after it went under. America was already in decline by the 80s but at this point it's a rout. It hardly matters in any event as the "all is vanity" nature of the consumer culture hell-realm has been exposed, at least to my satisfaction YMMV.
So many beautiful metaphors! This is a wonderful thing to do process and think about and discuss with people that we love.
A brilliant essay Paul.
I also look forward to these each Sunday. Thank you.
I think the drop in the number of saints is related to the difference between sainthood by acclamation- the local people intimately know an elder, a hermit, who dispenses holy advice, healing, lives a sacrificial life vs. religious orders lobbying for their star members. It isn’t that the latter aren’t saintly, but the small saints carrying huge crosses and following Christ ever so closely get overlooked. The western church forgot in some ways what a Christian life looked like, and fewer were attracted to it.
But Irish saints abroad were a blessing to millions of Catholics.
I love the description you used, being “made a saint by acclamation.” In the Orthodox Church in America, we just were surprised this past week by exactly that phenomenon, as our bishops confirmed what the faithful had known and practiced for a little over forty years, the glorification of an ‘ordinary’ saint, Matushka (term of endearment for a priest’s wife) Olga of Alaska, who died only in 1979, but has been venerated ever since. Icons shall be painted, a service composed in her honor, and she will be formally entered into the calendar. Much rejoicing over this, with hope some more such announcements will soon follow. Time to tie more rags to more trees!
Beautiful, Paul. That line about nature herself playing the role of iconoclast struck me especially. In our forest chapel, the original icons of Christ and Mary I put there a couple of years ago have been sun bleached into basically nothing by now (of course). Of course, you can get UV-resistant coated stuff, etc etc, but I don't take that as the primary lesson. I don't know what I *do* take as the primary lesson, but it seems like one's there.
I’ve encountered faded icon prints on boards, mounted on trees in trails through woods at several monasteries here in America. It’s gently inspiring, I think, to reflect that there are people who remember seeing and venerating them before they began to fade, as if they absorbed some of the initial zeal which led to them being placed there. I’ve also seen wood carved icons and mosaic shrines, which better resist the elements. May we absorb all their blessings!
I still refer to the divine breath by the old-school name of the Holy Ghost, on the grounds that He is spooky and has a way of haunting us. Maybe it's a little like that? The photos look like phantoms, but somehow they give the impression of having ascended to a higher realm as a result.
I so enjoy "He is spooky." I too prefer the anglo-saxon to the Latin in this case, for this reason.
Perhaps the water and people stopped fairly simultaneously: the major road junction making the flow of people to a private place of worship slow down and at the same time affecting the hydrology of the location.
I'm on the opposite side of the religious journey to you, having been brought up and educated in the roman catholic faith, fully via school and mass until I was 12, then just going through the motions until I had enough courage at the age of 17 to tell my father I wasn't going to mass on a Sunday any more. Throughout my young life, I was always amazed at the hypocrisy and conflict I saw around me all sanctioned by the church who apparently spoke in the name of our god, who gave us the commandments, yet they continually flouted them. I never fully believed that a man-like presence brought us into the world, nor that the sacraments we took part in were recreations of the original events - surely consuming the body and blood of Christ would be cannibalism, wouldn't it? Even as a child I assumed that this was a story to help us deal with the immensity of the universe and to calm our fears about where we were before we were born and what would happen to us after our physical energy expired and we died, and to keep society in some form of regulated behaviour, hence the commandments. As there are many different creation stories, all with similar objectives when it boils down to it, at the age of 64 I have come to the calm conclusion that, yes, a vast power brought our planet and us into being and that we are part of a virtuous cycle of birth, life and death feeding planet and all living beings. However, any organised religion has no further place in my life - I feel it's just a different version of the Machine.
All that said, I still find churches calm and pleasant places to be, the architecture and masonic skill needed to build them is incredibly inspiring. The roadside places you frequently write/speak of also crop up in Brittany,, a land of legend similar to Ireland, and I've often wondered why these specific sites were chosen to erect such statuary. I would be interested to learn more of the schism between east and west though - could you suggest some not too academic reading?
How appropriate to read this at the overcast dawn of my melancholy Sunday. This is very stirring, actually, as I set about tackling the third day of a bad cold, lots of phlegmatic histrionics, with aches of head and joints. Suits the weather and your essay. Staying home from the Divine Liturgy, I hope to rouse myself to pray the Hours and Typika, rather than sit like a stooge watching the Liturgy online. Even the small effort required to do the Typika is something of a podvig for us moderns, and it seems the most appropriate way to honor the Lord’s Day during my ailment. My own rag for St Colman, St Nilus the Myrrhgusher of Mount Athos (whom we celebrate today on the New Calendar), and of course the Lord’s Resurrection. That’s my Wild Christianity for the morning!
For any who might be interested, here is a link to a Life of St Nilus:
https://www.oca.org/saints/lives/2023/11/12/103290-venerable-nilus-the-myrrhgusher-of-mount-athos
I didn't realize what you meant by eyewell until now. Have a story for you, back in the late 80's my Dad had some type of eye problem, he couldnt drive or work. Had one surgery but no results, Dr said he would become blind eventually. He was sitting in Church one Sunday and he said his vision just "opened up" and he could see clear. Went to his Dr and he said he had never seen a reversal like that. He had no eye problems the remainder of his life.
Very powerful. I had an unsettling premonition while reading this that in my children’s and grandchildren’s lifetime, this is what Christianity will become: abandoned relics of the past. But the ending gave me a jolt of hope. Lovely and bracing.
We are promised a remnant, only a remnant, of the faithful.
Have you come across Daphne du Maurier’s ‘Vanishing Cornwall’ Paul? She talks also the holy wells and pilgrim paths fast disappearing (now maybe gone altogether) with awe and aching loss though without thinking directly about the Saints and how and Who inspired them and their followers.
I love your articles and ruminating. Thank you Paul
I know this is not about your post today but I was listening to your speech in Wisconsin. I am not a peasant and far from it but I did. ask my oldest if he wanted eggs and I walked out to the chicken coop and got him a fresh free ranged egg. There is something to eating locally and seasonally. Even the eggs yolks change
Have you written further about the schism? Or have suggestions for a balanced reading on this?
Personally, I'm of the opinion that the Schism never happened, in the sense that no one had the legal authority to carry it out. If we go with the Pentarchy model of five bishops, then how can one equal kick out another—and also, kick out of what, exactly? And in my understanding, many Catholic and Orthodox believers still had inter-communion for hundreds of years after, because either no one heard or no one cared about the fight between two high-up clergymen at some meeting. It is a de facto reality now, of course, but I don't think it could have been de jure.
This resonates with me for sure.
All the same, I really am curious what Paul has to say about this too. With all due respect — and by the way I’m a paid subscriber because I’m VERY regularly inspired by what goes on here — I’ve been bothered previously, although rarely, by statements he’s made that seem to assume a perch above his Catholic counterparts, particularly when he judges the kitschiness of certain shrines that might have a more “Catholic” vibe to them simply because they may be aesthetically busier than he prefers. I don’t understand the lure towards Orthodoxy which holds theosis as primary, but then being so excited to differentiate, to share how silly the “other side” is in their exhibitions. Again, I am here with all respect. Not trying to be a smart guy or pull some kind of “gotcha” here. Real question. What’s this schism? And what do we gain by continuing to honor it? (I don’t honor it, by the way)
I'd think it has to do with how after the alleged schism, the Church of the West moved in an increasingly intellectual and abstracted and legalistic direction that downplayed the immanence of God in the world—scholasticism and nominalism and all. And then by severing God from immanence, that set the stage for the current catastrophe of Western civilization. In contrast, one could imagine the Church of the East as having preserved the proper panentheistic spiritual heritage. Being an Eastern Catholic myself, I'm sympathetic to this narrative, although I can also see how it might be a little too neat. But in any case, the issue would then be about two divergent mindsets, not about any schism.
Also, this may sound silly, but: I went to a Latin Mass for the first time on All Saints' Day, and I was disturbed by how the priests kept the wine to themselves. I assume the reason is logistical in nature—but as a poetic matter, it is very, very bad to not share the communion cup. (At my Maronite church, the priest dips the bread in the wine before placing it on the tongue.) So perhaps that also goes along with the dichotomy of legalism in the West versus poetry in the East.
I feel you on the Latin Mass!
I understand and respect the West-East thing, but I’d really rather not feel pressure to put a “vs” between them. As you point out, the East has preserved something gorgeous, the poetry of which many of us in the “West” deeeeeply appreciate, and often long for. But for better or worse (or neither?) I’m “over here” in the “West” and yet steadfastly subscribed to the One Church, as idealistic and nonsensical as that may sound. I look at nature and I see a process of coalescence, not division. I see nothing wasted, everything utilized. I see nature effortlessly breaking down our very worst and idiotic constructs. Like, I didn’t read this article and despair like many others. Nature, ruled by the Divine, will always have the last word on human affairs. It’s gorgeous to be able to discover all of that treasure underneath the overgrowth. If it must be rerevealed, by all means clear it! And the Unseen dancing through it all, gathering, always gathering, never differentiating or categorizing.
Agreed. In fact, I'm a sort of perennialist who believes that the Logos who is Jesus Christ speaks through all Wisdom in all cultures and places and times—and I would thus like to gather together not only the East and the West, but also all the Wisdom that could be found in Hinduism, in Buddhism, in Taoism, in Sufism, in whatever, wherever and whenever. I'd say that I'm just about as ecumenical as anyone could get, although I do insist on a higher integration of Wisdom in Christ and not just some New Agey "they're all the same thing" slop.
AMEN! All the way yes to this. I’m teaching a class next semester on huxley’s perennial philsophy, along with William James’ “the varieties of religious experience” and also throwing in a sprinkling of David Bohm and his theory of the implicate order, as a treat.