Broken Britain

Few people witnessing the events on British streets tonight can deny that something is very wrong with our country at the moment. The sight of youths who can only be described as feral, roaming the streets and engaging in shocking acts of violence, is disturbing and frightening. Many commentators are simply at a loss to understand what is going on. There is no rational explanation for individuals trashing their own communities and engaging in this kind of vandalism. What seems incredible is the ages of some of these people. Young children appear to occupy the ranks of rioting gangs which would have been hard to comprehend just a few days ago.

Whatever the reasons for this behaviour - and at the moment it seems to be based on nothing more than greed and thrill-seeking - it is clear that a section of our society has no regard for other people, either their property or their personal safety. There has been a breakdown of basic human decency which families and entire communities have failed to address. I suspect the root causes of this have been developing over a number of years. We have created a generation who know all about rights and little about responsibility. Big questions will need to be asked about the kind of society we want to live in.

Once basic moral values are eroded and cast aside there is a vacuum in society which will be filled by violence. This is a wake-up call for all of us. We need to start searching our souls before it is too late.

Celebrate the Solemnity

Living as a Catholic provides a certain rhythm to life which I very much enjoy. The seasons of the Church's calendar present us with a degree of variety and interest which most people never experience. I like the fact that we deny our bodies certain things at certain times of year in order to celebrate the great feasts and festivals more joyfully. When I have taken fasting seriously, the delight and joy that comes afterwards has sometimes been overwhelming.

Although today is a Friday, and usually a day of penance and abstinence, it happens to be the great Solemnity of the Birthday of John the Baptist. A solemnity is a major feast - the highest ranking of feasts in fact - and it means that all penitential practices are called off. Whatever we normally deny ourselves - and soon we will be united in a common Friday fast - it doesn't apply today. (This is only the case for Solemnities. If a lesser feast falls on a Friday we are still required to do penance.)

I once heard a priest tell his congregation that they had a very serious duty to carry out on Solemnitites. He warned them that they had an obligation to celebrate. He told them to go home and treat themselves, adding that this didn't apply to non-Catholics. I thought this was a nice touch given that those outside the faith often view Catholicism in wholly negative terms.

I therefore encourage my small band of readers to celebrate the Solemnity in style. Honour Our Lord in a special way today. Give yourself a treat - a glass of wine, a nice meal, that forbidden piece of chocolate. Its all part of the rich tapestry of Catholic life.

Two English martyrs

Today is the feast of two great English martyrs, St John Fisher and St Thomas Moore. I was reminded of this when I saw a little shrine to them with several candles burning brightly in their honour.

Fisher was the Bishop of Rochester - the poorest diocese in the country. He was deposed from his see and charged with treason for refusing to accept the king as the supreme head of the Church of England. The Pope tried to help him by making him a Cardinal, but this seemed to antagonise the King even more. Rather than having the Cardinal's hat sent to England, Henry said he would send the head of Fisher to Rome.

Thomas Moore was a lawyer and statesman who achieved the dizzy heights of Lord Chancellor. He was also deeply devout. He wore a hair shirt and at one point contemplated joining the Carthusian order. Like Fisher, he refused to accept the Act of Supremacy and payed for it with his life. On the scaffold he declared that he was the King's good servant but God's first.

Fisher and Moore were caught up in the most intense spiritual upheaval this country has ever witnessed. I increasingly wonder if something of their heroism will be needed in our own era. It is becoming more difficult to be a public Catholic these days. Many of the laws that were enacted by the previous governement left no room for religious liberty. Every single Catholic adoption agency was forced to close down rather than infringe the new equality legislation. The Church is condemned in many quarters for remaining true to its belief in marriage and family life.

I wonder how long it will be before we see another Moore or another Fisher? How long before a Catholic in public life is sent to prision because their faith is considered unaccpetable to modern sensibilities? It is ironic that we live in a supposedly liberal society. And yet it is one that is increasingly intolerant of ideas different to its own.

The entire meaning of Christian baptism is expressed in the act of martyrdom. Nothing greater can be done for Christ than to suffer for him. Great men like St John Fisher and St Thomas Moore can give us strength. But it is a strength that may be needed sooner than we think.

Refuge of Sinners

My favourite title of Our Lady is Refuge of Sinners. It reminds me that the Mother of God has a special place in her heart for fragile and broken souls. Each time I recite the rosary I am made aware of the power of her prayers. At the end of my life it will be the Blessed Mother who will be able to help me the most. Jesus never refuses her requests.

Much confusion and misunderstanding has arisen among Christians regarding Our Lady. It is not hard to see why. Our Blessed Mother is the most powerful advocate we have. The powers of hell will therefore do everything possible to keep souls away from her.
In our own culture a certain nervousness has arisen around Marian devotion which verges on the neurotic. I don't think many people would be capable of articulating this. They just have a niggling feeling that focussing on her is somehow wrong.

And yet what is more natural and lovely than the devotion of a child for their mother? Our human experience should teach us something here. Nothing points more to the humanity of Christ than this one fact. He had a mother whom he adored and honoured and from whose very flesh he was born. It is mind boggling when you think about it. God became man and assumed the flesh of Mary. He still shares her flesh - now - at this very moment in heaven.

And because Jesus honours Mary so much, he wants us to honour her too. Isn't that perfectly reasonable and natural? We all want our mothers to be loved and treated with respect. Why would Jesus be any different? We honour Mary and seek her intercession and protection because it is the express will of Our Lord Himself. While he was dying on the cross he gave Mary as a gift to the world. How perverse of us if we cannot see or accept this gift for what it is.

We can never really honour Our Lady enough. Anxious thoughts about excessive devotion deprive us of the very thing that will help us most. Our Lady can do so much for us if only we will turn to her. Her humility will constantly bring us closer to Jesus.

She will also be our greatest help when her Son comes to us as judge. We need to think of that day and cling to her now with love. Cultivate a deep relationship with Mary. Say the rosary every day. End each day by honouring her. She will be our lifeline at the hour of our death.

A man of the Beatitudes

I'm currently reading a biography of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, written by his sister Luciana Frassati. A few years ago I saw his picture in a chapel in Italy and had no idea who this person was. It is relatively unusual to see a modern saint depicted in church, particularly someone who is young and - for want of a better word - normal.

I suppose it is this very normality - I think I'm going to have to refer to him as PGF for the rest of this post - that makes his story so striking. PGF was a keen sportsman, a great mountaineer and skier, and someone who lived life to the full. He was one of those happy, well-balanced people, who was always surrounded by friends and who was the life and soul of the party.

And yet he had a secret life, unknown to many and misunderstood by a few, not least his family. He developed an intense spirituality, based on the Eucharist and the Blessed Mother which launched him into a life of heroic service among the poor. He joined the St Vincent de Paul Society at the age of seventeen and spent most of his spare time in the slums of Turin, assisting the needy in whatever way he could. He would travel third class or avoid public transport altogether so that the money saved could help other people. He was constantly slipping out to visit the sick in hospital and kept a strict account of people he was intending to assist financially.

There isn't space to list the incredible acts of charity he managed to squeeze into his short life. What amazes me, is how he found time to live such a normal, regular life on top of this. He coped with studies, exams, everyday family life and activities with friends - the usual mundane stuff that all of us experience. And yet somehow, God transformed him into something exceptional.

All this got me thinking about that other great man of the Beatitudes, Blessed John Paul II. It is fitting that this particular Pope - another keen athlete in his youth - should have been the one to beatify PGF in 1990. One of these men lived into old age, the other died as a young man. But the quality of their lives came from the same source - complete submission to the will of Christ. It is this that makes them both so exceptional but at the same time so ordinary.

The gadfly and the horse

One of the more amusing images we have of the philosopher Socrates - I did warn you I liked ancient philosophy - is when he compares himself to a gadfly. Towards the end of Plato's famous Apology, he describes himself as attached to the city of Athens like a gadfly to a horse. It isn't a terribly flattering image of the great city of Athens. The horse is described as being large and well-bred but also sluggish and rather lazy. The people are so lethargic that Socrates has resorted to behaving like an annoying gnat. He buzzes around here and there, constantly trying to rouse them from sleep by stinging them.

Most of us who have been trapped in a room with an annoying mosquito are familiar with what happens next. We don't like being bothered in this way and tend to reach for the swatter. Poor old Socrates came to just such a sticky end.

The main meeting place in ancient Greece was the Agora, and it was here that Socrates spent his days. As people gathered to exchange speeches and thrash out ideas, he engaged with whoever was willing to spend time with him.

Perhaps the Agora of our own day is the internet. We may not meet face to face in the blogosphere but a similar exchange of ideas occurs every day. And like Socrates, our philosophy may not always be welcomed.

The Catholic Church has become the gadfly of our own generation, desperately trying to rouse people from sleep. Like the philosophy of Socrates, its doctrine is in conflict with the easy assumptions of society. It is a message which goes against the grain and which will often provoke hostility. We might not have to witness with our life (or we might, who knows what the future holds), but hopefully we will stand up for what is beautiful and true and be prepared to suffer the consequences.

David Aaronovitch on assisted suicide

Writing in yesterday's Times, David Aaronovitch describes the right to die as "a victory for optimism." He goes on to call the GP who helped Peter Smedley commit suicide in Monday's BBC documentary as "the most impressive woman I have met."

Just how we have reached this place - where those who promote death are lauded as angels of light - is beyond me. It appears that the values of Christ have been twisted beyond all recognition. Death is presented as something to reach out for, and those who assist people in this are brave and compassionate souls.

The central point of Aaronovitch's argument is that people should have the maximum autonomy over their own lives and deaths. It is up to the individual to choose the time and manner of departure from this world. They are the ultimate sovereign of themselves and such a decision is nobody else's business.

For any Catholic, who understands life as a precious gift from God, such a view is of course wrong and deeply troubling. But even without this spiritual perspective the argument is fundamentally flawed. The idea that we live in a vacuum, where our actions have no bearing on the people around us, is nonsense. Peter Smedley's wife somehow has to live with the consequences of what she experienced at Dignitas. The
emotional trauma she is left with is probably far greater than any physical pain the Swiss clinic is so eager to alleviate.

And what about the effect on society in general? The removal of the fundamental principle that life is sacred - even to accomodate a minority - will have far-reaching consequences. Aaronovitch is naive if he thinks that pressure will not be exerted in the future on individuals whose lives are deemed less worthy. An elementary knowledge of history shows what human beings are capable of doing.

The battles of the 21st century are direct assaults on the dignity of the human person. Assisted suicide is the ultimate attack on our humanity. We need to oppose it with every fibre of our being.