places more unsuitable than theatres, such as music-halls, which are
not forbidden. This indeed is possible enough. It is exceedingly hard
to draft a rule which shall cover exactly the cases desired, and the
difficulty is increased tenfold when the rules were made seventy years
ago, for the style, for example, of music-hall entertainment has
wholly changed in that time. No rule against music-halls was necessary
then, as no priest would have thought of going to one. In recent years
the type of music-hall has become higher, and if the law were made
to-day, it is possible that a reference to them might be thought
desirable. But after all, even if it were granted that the rule may be
worded badly, that would not interfere with the undoubted fact that
the theatre was intended to be forbidden, and no inclination has ever
been shown to go back from the rule.
In recent years a wholly new problem has presented itself by the
invention of the cinematograph. The present state of picture palaces
gives much room for thought and almost makes one weep. The
attractiveness and low price bring it within the reach of all. What a
power it might be for educating the people, and raising the tone of
their recreations! Yet in fact it does the very reverse. The reason is
simply the style of film which is shown. Here and there one gets an
interesting and educative one--such, for examples, as the official war
films which have been shown--but even these are usually sandwiched
between the low farcical vulgar displays which in the majority of
cinemas constitute the whole performance. They are indeed free from
some at least of the objectionableness of the theatre; but that is all
that can be said in their favour. Indeed, much of the juvenile
criminality which seems on the increase has been confidently
attributed to these picture palaces.
With respect to the desirability of the priest going to a cinema--for
it is not against any definite law--it is difficult to lay down a
general rule. Certainly there are many low-class cinemas which he
would never think of attending. Some of the better-class places in
London or elsewhere might sometimes provide him with useful
recreation; but it is only stating what is obvious in saying that he
will treat the matter with great caution.
[1] The words within brackets were added at the Synod of 1872, at
which Archbishop Manning presided.
The following is the original text:--
"Abstineant sacerdotes a spectaculis viro ecclesiastico indignis, a
venatione clamorosa quae equo et canibus fit, a publicis choreis, ab
illicitis ludis, et a cornessationibus quae usque ad intempestam
noctem protrabuntur. Prohibemus districte ne ecclesiastici saeris
Ordinibus initiati, scenis spectaculis in publicis theatris vel in
locis theatri publici usui ad tempus inservientibus intersint,
imponentes transgressoribus poenam suspensionis ipso facto
incurrendam, hactenus ubique in Anglia vigentem, cum reservatione
respectivo Ordinario" (_Westmonast_. i. xxiv. 2; iv. x. 9).
The corresponding law in the new Codex is:--
"Spectaculis, choreis et pompis quae eos dedecent vel quibus clericos
interesse scandalo sit, praesertim in publicis theatris, ne intersint"
(Canon 140).
[2] _Acta Apostolicae Sedis_, May, 1916, p. 147, and January, 1918, p.
17.
[3] _Life_, p. 112.
[4] The first rule prohibiting the theatre to priests was made at the
Synod of Winchester and Old Hall in 1803, which was indeed the first
occasion on which the four Vicars Apostolic were able to hold a
meeting to consider such matters at all. The penalty enacted was then
as now, suspension _ipso facto_, reserved to the Bishop.
[5] Devout Life, chapter xxxiii.
CONFERENCE XII
THE ANNUAL HOLIDAY
IN these days regular holidays every year have become a recognised
necessity for a life such as that of a priest in this country. The
effect of modern conditions of living, the prevalence of "slum"
neighbourhoods, with their generally depressing surroundings, the
continual pressure of such concentrated daily work, all bring with
them as a corollary the necessity of from time to time being released
from them altogether for a while, and modern invention has also
provided the means of getting away from one's work easily and cheaply,
which our ancestors neither possessed nor needed. The expression "he
is away on his holiday" has passed into our language.
Whatever is to be said of the general hardness of a priest's life, in
this one respect it stands out as more fortunate than that in most
other professions. A priest on a town mission--and it is on such a
mission that a holiday is really needed--commonly has four consecutive
Sundays off duty once every year, which means in many cases that he is
able to absent himself for nearly five weeks. The conditions of his
life render this possible, and nobody grudges it. Even the war has not
interfered with a priest's holidays, at any rate as regards their
length. And in this country they are more systematically regularised
than in most others. Some half a century ago a Belgian Bishop wrote to
Cardinal Manning asking him to dissuade his priests from visiting
Belgium when on their annual holiday, lest they should unsettle the
local clergy and instigate them also to look for holidays. In our
time, however, holidays for priests, before the war, were not so
unknown there. A primary result of this systematic arrangement for
holidays is that an appreciable part of a priest's life is spent in
this way, and it becomes of importance for us to enquire how we spend
it.
The science of arithmetical addition often produces startling results.
A person adding up accounts for the first time is surprised at the
total amount of money that he finds has passed through his hands, both
on the credit and on the debit side. Let us apply the process to the
priest's holiday. We will suppose that the average time he takes is
one calendar month--which is ordinarily well within the mark. In the
first twelve years of his priesthood therefore he spends a year in
holidays. One who has reached his silver jubilee has occupied over two
years so: an old priest may have spent four or five years in this way.
Clearly much will depend both in time and in eternity on how it has
been spent.
Or we may look at the arithmetic from another point of view. If one
month in every twelve is spent in vacation, it would seem to follow by
the law of averages that one priest in twelve would have to meet his
death during his holidays. For several reasons, however, this estimate
has to be modified. Death is not ordinarily so sudden but that the
illness which precedes it will show itself in time to prevent the
priest from starting on his vacation. But suppose we reduce the
estimate from one in twelve to one in fifty, or even one in a hundred,
that still leaves us matter for serious reflection; and experience
shows that this is not much above the mark. It is no uncommon thing to
hear of a priest who started on his holidays, if not in good health,
at least with the hope of regaining it, and his hopes being frustrated
either by the arrival of death while he is still away, or by his being
just able to return home to die. This surely, if we have the prudence
and forethought which a priest ought to have, should make us pause and
consider. If it is possible, and not extremely improbable, that so
important a moment may have to be faced during our outing, it is
essential that we should not relax our spirit of recollection so
completely but that we may be able quickly to resume it when
confronted by a crisis.
Now it is precisely here that the difficulty of spending our vacation
well comes in. It is essential for the very purpose for which we go
away that we should relax our spiritual exercises to some extent,
otherwise our vacation will fail of its effect, and we shall return
without that freshness which forms so valuable a send-off to the next
year's work. The recreations of a priest's life are at all times
difficult to regulate--as we have seen in the preceding Conferences.
To succeed in obtaining relaxation of mind, without at the same time
incurring dissipation, is never easy: and most of us in looking back
on our past lives will probably find more to regret in the time given
to recreation than in any other time. But the difficulty is greatly
increased when recreation is the order of our daily life, and our
ordinary elevating influences are for the time to a great extent in
abeyance. Yet we know that an ill-spent holiday leaves us on a lower
level than it found us; habits and practices are gone, and there is
nothing in their place except, perhaps, half-formed habits of
self-indulgence and general slackness.
But there is in truth another side to vacation time which is the very
opposite to its dissipating side. It is a time when being released for
a while from our daily work and anxieties, our mind turns back on our
life as a whole, our shortcomings, our prospects for the future, our
devotions and spiritual exercises, and the like. Some periods of
vacation time may be in this way almost as good as a retreat. The
possibility of utilising it thus of course depends to some extent on
our surroundings, how we are spending it, whom we are with, and what
doing. But we shall usually have sufficient unoccupied time at our
disposal, whether we are with our friends or relations, or on our
travels, and we can without forgoing any real relaxation let our
thoughts revert to our life and our work as a priest, which indeed we
shall naturally do if our interest in them is what it should be. If we
do not, much of our time will be simply thrown away. The author of the
_Imitation_ says that sickness changes no man, but shows what he is.
Something similar may be said of holidays. The manner in which they
are spent, and the thoughts which come uppermost will be a clear index
of the state of mind, spiritually, of the man who spends it. And if
the occasion is utilised, it will afford a valuable offset to the
natural dissipation of the period.
If, then, so much depends on the vacation being well spent, some
thought should certainly be taken in good time beforehand, that the
natural falling to low level may be checked by definite resolutions
made in advance, for when the time comes, the surroundings are not
favourable to making laws for ourselves. The following remarks then
are intended as a help towards sanctifying a time which it is more
easy to lose ground than at any other period of the year.
1. The Roman collar should never be taken off, or at least no outward
change should be made which would indicate that we are trying to
disguise our priesthood. It is true that theologians tell us that
under certain circumstances, when on a journey, it is lawful to do so;
but "all things are lawful to me, but all things do not edify." [1] It
is said that to be dressed as a layman makes one freer, and this is no
doubt the case; but it is questionable whether such freedom is
desirable. The restraint of one's priesthood, and the general rule
that wherever one cannot appear as a priest, one will not go at all,
is a useful check on our lives at such times. Incidentally it may be
remarked that the disguise will not often be successful, and many will
see through it. The shorn appearance, the general want of fit about
the clothes, and the evident discomfort at wearing so unusual a garb
attract observation; and sooner or later, the suspicion aroused is
confirmed by the appearance of a well-worn Breviary, out of which the
disguised priest is saying his Office. The general effect is lowering
both on others and himself. The feeling that it is a disguise brings
with it the practical conviction that he is acting in a manner
unbecoming to his state. Once a priest, always a priest, and it is
only in very exceptional circumstances that one should ever pretend to
be anything else. The priest's dress will not interfere with any
recreation which is suitable for him.
2. A certain minimum number of times for saying mass should be fixed
and closely adhered to. Even outside that limit, mass should not be
omitted without real cause. The sight of a priest who has put his mass
away at the beginning of his holidays as "work," to be left behind
until he returns, or at most to be produced on Sundays, has in the
past been unfortunately too common; and the reaction which induced a
priest when freed from his morning exercises to stay in bed
inordinately late is not edifying. There are indeed days when a rest
is needful, or advisable, or when it is difficult to make suitable
arrangements, or when all time available is wanted for an excursion,
or to catch an early train; but in many instances there is no such
reason. In truth a fervent priest should be specially anxious about
his mass at such times, both because he will feel the need of it to
sanctify his holiday, and because in fact being temporarily relieved
from his daily anxieties, he is able to say it with a new freshness
and devotion.
3. As to Meditation, in most cases one could hardly expect the
ordinary half-hour before mass, and if one's holiday is to be
successful, one must necessarily ease off some of one's spiritual
exercises. But there is really no reason for abandoning Meditation
altogether. A short period, even five or ten minutes, whether as
thanksgiving after mass, or at some other time of day, will be more
valuable than double that time in the ordinary working part of the
year. About this, as about other exercises, it is important to have a
rule, and to keep to it, save in exceptional circumstances; but the
exact nature of the rule depends so largely on the personal equation
that one hesitates to put forward any suggestion too definitely.
4. The Divine Office of course cannot be omitted for any ordinary
reason. But it can easily be put into odd times--more easily during a
holiday than during the working part of the year--or left to the end
of the day, when it is said without devotion, as fast as possible,
simply to get it over. The loss by this is the greater from the very
fact that the Divine Office is the one devotion which is binding even
in holiday season. A definite rule is a help in such cases, and if the
burden of anticipating Matins and Lauds is felt too great, a rule, for
example, to finish to the end of Prime before midday ought not to be
too difficult to be usually kept. But what precise rule to make, like
many other details, must depend on the nature of our holiday and where
we find ourselves. At least let there be some rule to aim at: don't
let it be simply a case of drifting.
This, therefore, suggests a few words as to what kind of a holiday a
priest will take. In many cases this settles itself by the exigencies
of circumstances. He may have a home to go to, with parents still
living, or he may have relatives and friends to stay with. In other
cases he may be able to go for a regular tour with a fellow priest or
other companion. The former class of case is perhaps more difficult to
regulate, as the priest has to accommodate himself to the ways of
those with whom he is staying. A general rule to be well occupied all
day, and to retire in good time so as to be fresh for the next day, is
very easily written down: to keep it without making oneself
uncongenial requires both determination and tact. Often it may be
possible to regulate one's retirement at night in this way; but
sometimes it is not, and in such circumstances we have no choice but
to accept what we find. The rule of occupying ourselves can however
practically always be kept. The reproach that the English take their
recreation sadly--perhaps seriously would be a better word--is really
an allusion to one of the most favourable sides of our national
character. To spend the time in aimless lounging--the _dolce far
niente_ so dear to the typical Italian--is not in itself congenial to
our nature; yet the habit not infrequently invades our holiday time,
especially at the seaside. The description a priest once wrote of
himself that he had spent day after day in sitting on the sands, and
getting behind-hand in his Office, is typical of a whole class of
holidays; but by no means of all. One easy way to guard absolutely
against it is to have a carefully chosen holiday book, sufficiently
light to recreate, yet entertaining and educative, to produce on any
day on which we find that, through stress of weather or other cause,
there is no definite occupation on hand.
If a priest is fortunate enough to be able to travel on a regular
tour, it is unnecessary to point out how fully his time will be
occupied, provided he takes at least an intelligent interest in what
he sees. The effect of travelling is very broadening, for one meets--
even in one's own country--with customs and surroundings very
different from those of the particular place in which we live; and the
amount of human history contained in churches and other public
buildings and dwelling-houses is very great. Moreover, the effect of
natural scenery is always elevating. If--as was possible before the
war, and will some day be possible again--a priest can visit Catholic
countries, he will find much to be of high spiritual advantage to him.
It is often possible to make a pilgrimage to a shrine part of our
holiday, and thus to unite recreation with high spiritual profit. To
visit such places as Lourdes or Ars in France, or Einsiedeln in
Switzerland, or Loreto or Genezzano in Italy--to mention only a few
typical ones--is not only an interesting experience, but will also be
a source of grace and blessing. One sees Catholic practices freely
developed, without the restraining influences which the surroundings
of Protestantism render inevitable here in England. The simple
devotion, wholly free from self-consciousness, which one sees joined
with such extraordinary fervour in places of pilgrimage, are full of
elevating effect in ourselves, and the atmosphere of faith among the
people all around us is as good as a revelation.
The shrine at Lourdes is too well known to need any words here. Apart
from any question of miracles--which in fact assume a very secondary
place there--the spirit of devotion among the thousands of pilgrims
from all parts of the world, and the absolute contentment of the sick
who have been brought from afar, and are often in acute physical pain,
give one a picture which one would not have believed to be realisable
in this world. The surroundings of Ars, again, are of special interest
from a different point of view as bringing us close to the life of a
real saint and parish priest, for the date of the cure's death is
still within living memory. Then, again, to find a shrine such as
_Notre Dame des Victoires_ in the midst of such a cosmopolitan city as
Paris, where so much evil is known to be rampant, is instructive and
edifying. But there is a shrine not a hundred miles from there to
which surely English people should be attracted more than they are:
that is, the shrine of St. Edmund of Canterbury, at Pontigny. One of
the last of our English saints to be canonised, his life is not
inferior in interest to that of any of his predecessors. He died in
exile in France, and by a curious combination of circumstances, the
great Cistercian Abbey Church at Pontigny, where his body is over the
altar, survived both the dangers of the Huguenots in the sixteenth
century and the great Revolution at the end of the eighteenth, and
stands to-day almost in the same condition in which St. Edmund knew it
in 1240. It is really a reproach to English Catholics that so few go
there. In recent years, a certain number of High Church Anglicans have
visited it. Unfortunately it is in one of the worst parts of France,
where religion languishes; but even there, twice a year--on the feast
of the Saint in November and that of the Translation of his Relics,
kept there in Whitsun Week--the massive church is filled with pilgrims
from afar.
But apart from actual shrines, a priest will find in the atmosphere of
a Catholic country and in the daily life of the people plenty of
thought on which to build up his own spiritual aspirations. If he says
mass in good time in the morning, he will find perhaps many people in
the church engaged on their own spontaneous devotions. On a Sunday the
succession of mass-goers is continuous; the liturgical services draw
large congregations; and Catholicism seems to be in the very air one
breathes. Even in large cities it is a prominent feature; in country
towns and villages it pervades the whole life of the people. The idea
of the Catholicity of the Church is brought home to us when we find
ourselves so manifestly belonging to the same body as these devout
souls, and the holiday becomes strengthening to the soul as well as
the body.
[1] 1 Cor. x. 23.
CONFERENCE XIII
THE PERIODICAL RETREAT
IN view of the fact that our own synodal law prescribes a Retreat for
every priest only every second year, [1] and the new Codex of Canon
Law only insists on one every third year, [2] it might appear that
either one or the other is the limit at which we should aim. Such,
however, is surely not the case. It is true that even though our
Synodal law still holds--as has been recently decided by the Holy
See--no more frequent Retreat is required as of obligation than once
in two years, and in some countries where there is no special local law,
the longer interval--once in three years--may be lawful. Yet, without
asserting any obligation, the present writer deliberately urges a
yearly Retreat as the ideal. Wherever circumstances permit it--as in
Ireland or Belgium or elsewhere--this has always been the practice.
Moreover, the wording both of the synodal law and of the new Codex by
no means excludes this as the ideal; in each case the word _saltem_,
or "at least," is joined to the specification of the obligatory
period.
But it would surely appear that an earnest priest would himself desire
it. The idea that a Retreat is an irksome duty, to be discharged as
best it can, is surely a very inadequate one. It should be a time to
which a priest looks forward with longing, when he can put away his
work for a few days, and attend to matters which are in the strictest
sense personal, and if we may say so, selfish; and in which he may
commune with Almighty God in a manner which the hard work of his daily
life renders difficult or at times impossible. True the Retreat
involves a serious work and an important Confession, and the renewal
of many resolutions which have fallen into abeyance. Such a work will
not be accomplished without serious effort, and often involves facing
trouble and discouragement during its course. A Retreat is by no means
the recreation which its name almost implies. But its interest is
supreme. It touches all that aspect of life which should be vital to
us, and it tests our progress in that aspect of our lives which alone
matters.
If the Retreat is to be for us the event which ought to be the centre
and crown of our year's work, certain conditions must be complied with
which often are not. Let us consider these in detail.
The first question is when and where to make the Retreat. The Synod
seems to assume that it will be made by all the diocesan clergy in
common at the time and place provided for by the Bishop. Whether this
is to be taken strictly or not, has been much discussed; our tradition
has been that a priest making a solitary Retreat at a religious house
satisfies the obligation, though making a Retreat at one's own house
does not. The new Codex, however, seems in this respect stricter than
our Synodal Law, and provides definitely for the common clergy Retreat
unless special exception be made for a just cause by the Bishop
himself. Hence it would appear that ordinarily at least every three
years the common Retreat is obligatory.
But apart from strict obligation, there is every reason that, except
in special circumstances, the priests should join in the common
diocesan Retreat. There are indeed some persons who find it a
difficulty, and who can make a better Retreat in private; but they are
the exception. At any rate, it is necessary for the Bishop to give
leave in any particular case. In making application, at least let the
priest bear in mind that at best he will lose the graces attached to
the corporate act, and will not be helping his fellow clergy as he
might be, so that only a strong reason should induce him to apply; for
very naturally a Bishop would be slow to give a negative answer. On
the other hand, a priest who willingly conforms brings consolation to
his Bishop and helps in the sanctification of the diocesan clergy as a
whole.
In order to bring about the possibility of a general Retreat, it is
sometimes necessary that the parish services should be curtailed or
omitted during that week. Let there be no hesitation in, if necessary,
reducing the week-day masses or omitting them altogether or omitting
evening services. The people will fully enter into the reason,
provided it is explained to them, and will willingly join in prayer
for the blessing of God on the Retreat.