"Love follows knowledge."
"Beauty above all beauty!"
– St. Catherine of Siena

Friday, December 11, 2020

Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset, 2nd Read, Post #1

This is the second read of this great biography of my beloved patron saint and patron saint of this blog.  Indeed it was this book that made me aware of St. Catherine of Siena in the first place.  It was in my first year of this blog that I read Catherine of Siena written by the great Nobel winning author, Sigrid Undset.  That was in 2013, and between March and April of that year I wrote four posts on the book. I called them “Book Excerpts” back then but they are essentially the same type of posts I have been writing on books that you see now.  To my surprise the Catholic Thought Book Club and Goodreads selected Undset’s book for a recent read and I happily participated.  In this and several following posts I will post my thoughts and comments from the second read.  I don’t know if I’ve had a book read twice while I’ve been blogging.  I think this is the first.  I don’t know if I’m repeating myself, contradicting myself, or adding new observations that reflect a more devout person from seven years ago.  Someday I may compare. But I have no intention now.  I want this to be fresh, as if I had not written on my St. Catherine before.  First let me start with an introduction to the saint.



Introduction to St. Catherine of Siena

Bishop Baron in the first group of his Pivotal Players series had only six men and women who he considered important enough to be considered pivotal to Catholicism, and included in those six was St. Catherine of Siena, the only woman I may add.  Why did he include St. Catherine with Saints Thomas Aquinas and St. Frances of Assisi?  Well, you probably have to watch his video of her life and teachings to hear his answer, but I think by reading this book you will come to a similar conclusion: St. Catherine of Siena incorporates into her being every element of sainthood possible.  She lived a life of uncompromising holiness.  You may be surprised to learn she was not a consecrated religious, but a Third Order Dominican.  Prayer was the foundation of her life, which then led to an active ministry of taking care of the sick and the poor.  She was a mystic who had who supernatural experiences on an almost daily basis but was involved in the issues and politics of her day.  Though uneducated, she learned Catholic theology so well she was correcting theologians, and she went on to write—at some point she learned to read and write either mystically or through perseverance—one of the great Catholic theological classics, her Dialogue.  I marvel at her writings—mostly her letters—for her intense prose and wonderful imagery.  She was a natural poet.  She was a little woman from a non-aristocratic family who became so influential she was offering advice to kings and queens, and her greatest accomplishment was in persuading Pope Gregory XI to return the papacy to Rome after almost a century in Avignon. 

I once put together for my Lay Dominican chapter an outline of her life.  I’ll share it with you here.  I broke it down to four parts: her biography, her mysticism, her ministry, and her writings and theology.  And then for good measure I ended it with a number of her quotes.  Perhaps this will be useful as you read her biography.

 

1)      Biography

a)     Born March 25, 1347 with a twin sister (Giovanna) as the 23rd and 24th children of Jacopo di Benincasa and Lapa di Puccio Piagenti.

b)      She has a vision of Christ at the age of six and at seven vows to virginity. 

c)      At the age of fifteen she cuts off her hair to prevent being married.

d)     At the age of sixteen she joins the Dominican Sisters of Penance, otherwise known as the Mantellate. 

e)      From the age of seventeen to twenty she is confined to a small room, ostensibly as punishment for not willing to marry.  This is her “cell” in which she performed many performed many austerities and penances.  This is when she started her extreme fasting.

f)       Throughout her life she went around performing many acts of mercy but especially from the age of twenty, when she symbolically comes out of her cell, through age twenty-eight when the most recent plague ends.  It is the activities in this period that led her to be the patron saint of nurses.

g)      At the age of 29 at the behest of the Florentines she travels to the Pope in Avignon to resolve a dispute between the Papacy and Florence.  There she urges the Pope to return the Papacy back to Rome.

h)      Her fasting led her not keep any food down; she lived for a number of years entirely on the Eucharist. 

i)        At the age of 33 dies in Rome on April 29, 1380.  She is buried in Rome (Basilica of Santa Maria sopra Minerva) except for her head and thumb which were sent to Siena and reside at the Basilica of San Domenico.

j)        She was canonized in 1461 and made a Doctor of the Church in 1970.

 

2)      Mysticism

a)      Vision of Christ in papal garb at the while walking in Siena (age 6).

b)      Mystical marriage with Christ (age 20?).

c)      Vision and conversation with Christ who forces her to come out of her cell (age 20).

d)     Mystical exchange of hearts with Christ (age 23).

e)      Mystical death (age 23).

f)       Receives the Invisible Stigmata (age 28).

g)      Soul separation from her body (age 32).

h)      Whenever at Mass the experience would be so intense that she would faint and go into a trance.

i)        Whenever in that trance state, she would babble off her conversations with Christ.  Her followers would jot down whatever they could gather from her mumblings.  It is in this state that we get her prayers and her theological book called The Dialogue.

 

3)      Ministry

a)      Corporal works of mercy as part of the Montellate, especially taking care of the sick and dying. 

b)      Tirelessly helped in care of those inflamed with the Black Death plague of the mid fourteenth century.

c)      She attracted a band of followers which she called her spiritual family who went around and helped and fulfilled her acts of mercy.  The group included religious and secular, poor and rich, peasantry and nobility.  It was through her personality, gregarious and upbeat, that so many people listened and followed her.

d)     Through her letters and preaching, she led many people to return and enrich their faith.

e)      She intervened to resolve disputes between various Italian City States, including the Papal State.

f)       She was instrumental in convincing Pope Gregory XI.  She even had the chutzpa to tell the Pope to “be a man” when he was wavering in fear.

g)      She tried to resolve The Great Schism that broke out after Pope Gregory XI’s death, where ultimately three different Popes claimed the papal title.  She was unsuccessful and perhaps contributed to her loss of strength and subsequent death.

 

4)      Writings and Theology

a)      It should be noted that she was uneducated and either through miracle or through self-teaching, learned to read and write.  I don’t know for sure if she physically wrote down things herself.  From what we know she had scribes that wrote her words down.

b)      She wrote elaborate prayers of which 26 survive, many of which seem like poems.

c)      She wrote hundreds of letters to all strata of people, the Pope, religious, secular, soldiers, rulers, and aristocracy, both men and women, either imploring them to do some good action or preaching some theological point.  380 letters survive.

d)     She dictated The Dialogue, a series of conversations she had in a trance with God the Father which consolidated her theological ideas.  Among these ideas is the notion of the Christ Bridge—Christ crucified as a bridge between earth and heaven.

e)      Her writing is filled with intense imagery, almost like that of a poet.



Famous Quotes:

"You know...that to join two things together there must be nothing between them or there cannot be a perfect fusion. Now realize that this is how God wants our soul to be, without any selfish love of ourselves or of others in between, just as God loves us without anything in between."  Letter T164

"The human heart is always drawn by love." Dialogue 26

"In your nature, eternal Godhead, I shall come to know my nature. And what is my nature, boundless Love? It is fire, because you are nothing but a fire of love. And you have given humankind a share in this nature for by the fire of love you created us." Prayer 12

"It is the nature of love to love as much as we feel we are loved and to love whatever the one we love loves." Letter T299

You, eternal Trinity, are a deep sea. The more I enter you, the more I discover, and the more I discover, the more I seek you." Dialogue 167.

"You are a fire always burning but never consuming; you are a fire consuming in your heat all the soul's selfish love; you are a fire lifting all chill and giving light." Dialogue 167.

"This [painful thing] happens to me with the permission of God, according to His providence, as in all things that befall me, all tribulation that He sends me He wills only one single thing: my sanctification." Spiritual Document (William of Flete's account of a meeting with St. Catherine at which she briefly summarized her doctrine).

"O God eternal, Oh boundless Love! Your creatures have been wholly kneaded into you and you into us--through creation, through the will's strength, through the fire with which you created us, and through the natural life you gave us."  Prayer 14

"Love follows knowledge." Dialogue 1

### 

To get a feel for her writing, let me give you a sample, this from one of her letters.  It’s in my personal notes and unfortunately I didn’t write down which letter this came from.  this little passage outlines one of her most profound theological ideas, Christ crucified as a ladder to holiness, a ladder to God.  She would go on to develop this further in her great work, The Dialogue.

 

And if you ask, “What is the way?” I will tell you it is the way Christ chose, the way of disgrace, suffering, torment, and scourging.  “And how?”  Through genuine humility and blazing charity, an indescribable love by which we renounce all worldly riches and ambition.  And from humility we progress to obedience, as I have said.  Upon such obedience follows peace, since obedience frees us from all suffering and gives us every joy—for the selfish will, the source of suffering, has been done away with.

 

To make it possible to climb to this perfection, Christ actually made for us a staircase of his body.

 

If you look at his feet, you see that they are nailed fast to the cross to form the first stair.  This is because we have first to rid ourselves of all selfish will.  For just as the feet carry the body, desire carries the soul.  Reflect that we can never have any virtue at all if we don’t climb this first stair.  Once you have climbed it, you arrive at deep and genuine humility.

 

Climb the next stair without delay and you come to the open side of God’s Son.  There you find the fiery abyss of divine charity.  At this second stair, his open side, you find a storehouse filled with fragrant spices.  There you find the God-Man.  There your soul is so sated and drunk that you lose all self-consciousness, just like a drunkard intoxicated with wine; you see nothing but his blood, shed with such blazing love. 

 

Then, aflame with desire, you get up and climb to the next stair, his mouth.  There you find rest in quiet calm; there you taste the peace of obedience.  A person who is really completely drunk, good and full, falls asleep, and in that sleep feels neither pleasure nor pain.  So too the spouse of Christ, sated with love, falls asleep in the peace of her Bridegroom.  Her feelings too are asleep so that, even if all sorts of troubles befall her, they don’t disturb her at all.  If she is materially well off she feels no disproportionate pleasure, because she has already stripped herself of all that is at the first stair.  This, then, is where she finds herself conformed with Christ crucified, united with him.

 

Now mind you, this is a woman with no formal education.  Notice how vivid the imagery and how the imagery develops into abstract ideas.  So much there in just a handful of words. 




Sunday, December 6, 2020

Sunday Meditation: The Lord Will Come Like A Thief

From today’s second reading:

 

But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth and everything done on it will be found out.

       -2 Peter 3:10

 

That simile, to “come like a thief,” has such great resonance.  It is so powerful, and then the imagery of disintegration sends shivers down ones spine.  Peter is referring to the end of times of course but it can also be read as our mortal end. 



Monday, November 30, 2020

Quas primas: The Institution of the Feast of Christ the King

For the feast day of Christ the King, which was a couple of Sundays ago (November 22nd), we read the encyclical, Quas primas, by Pius XI, written in 1925, on the institution of the Feast of Christ the King.  Here are some of my thoughts.  You can read the encyclical here.   

 

First, Pius lays out the scriptural justification of the title and feast:


8. Do we not read throughout the Scriptures that Christ is the King? He it is that shall come out of Jacob to rule,[3] who has been set by the Father as king over Sion, his holy mount, and shall have the Gentiles for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his possession.[4] In the nuptial hymn, where the future King of Israel is hailed as a most rich and powerful monarch, we read: "Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; the scepter of thy kingdom is a scepter of 2 righteousness."[5] There are many similar passages, but there is one in which Christ is even more clearly indicated. Here it is foretold that his kingdom will have no limits, and will be enriched with justice and peace: "in his days shall justice spring up, and abundance of peace...And he shall rule from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth."[6]

 

9. The testimony of the Prophets is even more abundant. That of Isaias is well known: "For a child is born to us and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, God the mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace. His empire shall be multiplied, and there shall be no end of peace. He shall sit upon the throne of David and upon his kingdom; to establish it and strengthen it with judgment and with justice, from henceforth and for ever."[7] With Isaias the other Prophets are in agreement. So Jeremias foretells the "just seed" that shall rest from the house of David - the Son of David that shall reign as king, "and shall be wise, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth."[8] So, too, Daniel, who announces the kingdom that the God of heaven shall found, "that shall never be destroyed, and shall stand for ever."[9] And again he says: "I beheld, therefore, in the vision of the night, and, lo! one like the son of man came with the clouds of heaven. And he came even to the Ancient of days: and they presented him before him. And he gave him power and glory and a kingdom: and all peoples, tribes, and tongues shall serve him. His power is an everlasting power that shall not be taken away, and his kingdom shall not be destroyed."[10] The prophecy of Zachary concerning the merciful King "riding upon an ass and upon a colt the foal of an ass" entering Jerusalem as "the just and savior," amid the acclamations of the multitude,[11] was recognized as fulfilled by the holy evangelists themselves.

 

10. This same doctrine of the Kingship of Christ which we have found in the Old Testament is even more clearly taught and confirmed in the New. The Archangel, announcing to the Virgin that she should bear a Son, says that "the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of David his father, and he shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end."[12]

 

11. Moreover, Christ himself speaks of his own kingly authority: in his last discourse, speaking of the rewards and punishments that will be the eternal lot of the just and the damned; in his reply to the Roman magistrate, who asked him publicly whether he were a king or not; after his resurrection, when giving to his Apostles the mission of teaching and baptizing all nations, he took the opportunity to call himself king,[13] confirming the title publicly,[14] and solemnly proclaimed that all power was given him in heaven and on earth.[15] These words can only be taken to indicate the greatness of his power, the infinite extent of his kingdom. What wonder, then, that he whom St. John calls the "prince of the kings of the earth"[16] appears in the Apostle's vision of the future as he who "hath on his garment and on his thigh written 'King of kings and Lord of lords!'."[17] It is Christ whom the Father "hath appointed heir of all things";[18] "for he must reign until at the end of the world he hath put all his enemies under the feet of God and the Father."[19]

 

Paragraphs ten and eleven make the case for Christ as king from New Testament, but what really makes the argument solid is the justification presented from the Old Testament prophets, mostly in paragraph nine.  Let me quote P9 in its entirety.

 

9. The testimony of the Prophets is even more abundant. That of Isaias is well known: "For a child is born to us and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, God the mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace. His empire shall be multiplied, and there shall be no end of peace. He shall sit upon the throne of David and upon his kingdom; to establish it and strengthen it with judgment and with justice, from henceforth and for ever."[7] With Isaias the other Prophets are in agreement. So Jeremias foretells the "just seed" that shall rest from the house of David - the Son of David that shall reign as king, "and shall be wise, and shall execute judgment and justice in the earth."[8] So, too, Daniel, who announces the kingdom that the God of heaven shall found, "that shall never be destroyed, and shall stand for ever."[9] And again he says: "I beheld, therefore, in the vision of the night, and, lo! one like the son of man came with the clouds of heaven. And he came even to the Ancient of days: and they presented him before him. And he gave him power and glory and a kingdom: and all peoples, tribes, and tongues shall serve him. His power is an everlasting power that shall not be taken away, and his kingdom shall not be destroyed."[10] The prophecy of Zachary concerning the merciful King "riding upon an ass and upon a colt the foal of an ass" entering Jerusalem as "the just and savior," amid the acclamations of the multitude,[11] was recognized as fulfilled by the holy evangelists themselves.

 

Those numbers are footnotes, which I’m not going to provide but you can find them in the text.  Christ is the son of David, and perhaps more importantly the fulfillment of the typology presented in the Old Testament.  As David is the great King of Israel, Christ stemming from David’s lineage is the great King of heaven and earth.

### 

I found paragraph 18 to be extremely powerful.  It starts off with a quote from Pope Leo XIII.

 

18. Thus the empire of our Redeemer embraces all men. To use the words of Our immortal predecessor, Pope Leo XIII: "His empire includes not only Catholic nations, not only baptized persons who, though of right belonging to the Church, have been led astray by error, or have been cut off from her by schism, but also all those who are outside the Christian faith; so that truly the whole of mankind is subject to the power of Jesus Christ."[28]

 

So Christ is not just the King of Roman Catholics or the King of Christians.  He is the King of all.  Pope Leo XIII must be thinking of Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians:

 

 …though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.  Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that

Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.  (Phil 2:6-10)

 

When we refer to Jesus Christ is Lord, we do mean king.  A king is the highest lord of a nation, and Jesus is “King of Kings, Lord of Lords.”  The paragraph continues.

 

 

Nor is there any difference in this matter between the individual and the family or the State; for all men, whether collectively or individually, are under the dominion of Christ. In him is the salvation of the individual, in him is the salvation of society. "Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given to men whereby we must be saved."[29] He is the author of happiness and true prosperity for every man and for every nation. "For a nation is happy when its citizens are happy. What else is a nation but a number of men living in concord?"[30]

 

Christ as King then is at the crux of salvation of the individual, the prosperity of society, and the happiness of people.  It is through the authority of His divinity that upholds everything.  That’s powerful stuff.  The paragraph continues, now focused on the responsibility of earthly kings.

 

If, therefore, the rulers of nations wish to preserve their authority, to promote and increase the prosperity of their countries, they will not neglect the public duty of reverence and obedience to the rule of Christ. What We said at the beginning of Our Pontificate concerning the decline of public authority, and the lack of respect for the same, is equally true at the present day. "With God and Jesus Christ," we said, "excluded from political life, with authority derived not from God but from man, the very basis of that authority has been taken away, because the chief reason of the distinction between ruler and subject has been eliminated. The result is that human society is tottering to its fall, because it has no longer a secure and solid foundation."[31]

 

Earthly rulers then (and I would imagine that would include today’s presidents and legislators) must act in “reverence and obedience” to Christ the King in order to derive legitimate authority.  Otherwise illegitimate authority leads to an unstable society.  That last sentence, a quote I think from one of Pius XI’s earlier encyclical, deserves repeating: “The result is that human society is tottering to its fall, because it has no longer a secure and solid foundation." 

 

If Pope Pius XI wrote that in the 1920’s, can you imagine what he would say today?  Society without Christ, let alone as Christ as King, has no foundation.  Since the 1920’s society has tottered and fallen several times.  We are no better today.  Actually we are worse.

### 

The first sentence paragraph 19 I think sums up why acknowledging Christ as king is so important: “When once men recognize, both in private and in public life, that Christ is King, society will at last receive the great blessings of real liberty, well-ordered discipline, peace and harmony.”  But why actually have a feast day of Christ the King?  Pius acknowledged earlier that Christ has been revered as king since Christ walked on earth.  What does having a feast day accomplish?  He explain in paragraph 23.

 

21. That these blessings may be abundant and lasting in Christian society, it is necessary that the kingship of our Savior should be as widely as possible recognized and understood, and to the end nothing would serve better than the institution of a special feast in honor of the Kingship of Christ. For people are instructed in the truths of faith, and brought to appreciate the inner joys of religion far more effectually by the annual celebration of our sacred mysteries than by any official pronouncement of the teaching of the Church. Such pronouncements usually reach only a few and the more learned among the faithful; feasts reach them all; the former speak but once, the latter speak every year - in fact, forever. The church's teaching affects the mind primarily; her feasts affect both mind and heart, and have a salutary effect upon the whole of man's nature. Man is composed of body and soul, and he needs these external festivities so that the sacred rites, in all their beauty and variety, may stimulate him to drink more deeply of the fountain of God's teaching, that he may make it a part of himself, and use it with profit for his spiritual life.

 

In other words, it takes a feast day to promulgate the word, to instruct those not learned, and to work the notion into the rhythm of life.  It takes a feast day to transfer it from an intellectual concept into the heart and soul.  It becomes a spiritual concept as well as an intellectual one.

###

With paragraph 30 Pius outlines the expectations of instituting the Christ the King feast day. 

 

30. We would now, Venerable Brethren, in closing this letter, briefly enumerate the blessings which We hope and pray may accrue to the Church, to society, and to each one of the faithful, as a result of the public veneration of the Kingship of Christ.

 

And then he provides three paragraphs, each with an expectation of a benefit.  Let me just sum them in a sentence each:

Par 31: By honoring the dignity of Christ with the feast, men will in turn respect and give due freedom to the Church from the power of the state.

Par 32: By creating the feast nations will be reminded that their ultimate allegiance and obedience is to Christ.

Par 33: The faithful will through the feast will gain great strength and allow Christ to reign in their hearts.

As I think over these three, I have to say society has roundly failed in the first two.  Across the world countries have limited and denied religious freedom, especially to the Catholic Church.  Look at the Covid restrictions of recent times on religious services, of which they have not been denied to other forms of gatherings.  In fact I was struck by this sentence in paragraph 31: “The State is bound to extend similar freedom to the orders and communities of religious of either sex, who give most valuable help to the Bishops of the Church by laboring for the extension and the establishment of the kingdom of Christ.”  Ha!  Think of the Obama administration’s limiting of the freedoms to the Sisters of the Poor!  Even in this country we have been limiting religious freedoms.

And as to nations having obedience to Christ, well the almost one hundred years now since the encyclical we have not seen it.  Well, shortly after the encyclical we had the Second World War, the Cold War, and now the rise of terrorism.  There have not been too many nations since the encyclical that have been obedient to Christ.  Of course in due time the work of grace from this encyclical can change hearts and the world.  I pray that it be so.

As to strengthening the hearts of the faithful, I can tell you it had a wonderful effect on me.  I had not known the details of Christ the King feast.  Indeed, it has enlarged my understanding of Christ in my heart.  What a great encyclical.

###

My final Goodreads review.

At only eleven pages, this is a great short read.  Why do encyclicals now have to be a hundred to two hundred pages?  Short and elegant is beautiful and clear, and Quas primas is certainly that.  In English, the title translates roughly to “That Which is First,” and what is first is Christ kingship.  The encyclical by Pope Pius XI in 1925 established the feast on the last Sunday in October (later moved to the final Sunday of the Church year, the Sunday before Advent) of Christ the King.

The encyclical acknowledges that Christ as King is at the crux of salvation of the individual, the prosperity of society, and the happiness of people.  It is through the authority of His divinity that upholds everything.  From that essential premise, earthly rulers then have an obligation to acknowledge Christ as their ultimate guide, and only by such allegiance can they derive their true authority.  “When once men recognize, both in private and in public life, that Christ is King, society will at last receive the great blessings of real liberty, well-ordered discipline, peace and harmony.”  Acknowledging Christ is king is the first step of allowing Christ to reign in one’s heart.

Establishing the feast day, then to Pius, is critical to acknowledging the graces that flow from such reverence.  It takes a feast day to promulgate the word, to instruct those not learned, and to work the notion into the rhythm of life.  It takes a feast day to transfer it from an intellectual concept into the heart and soul.  It becomes a spiritual concept as well as an intellectual one. 

Pius hoped the feast would strengthen the hearts of the faithful, and I can tell you it had a wonderful effect on me.  I had not known the details of Christ the King feast.  Indeed, it has enlarged my understanding of Christ in my heart.  What a great encyclical.




Saturday, November 28, 2020

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh, Post 6

This is the sixth and last post on Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited.

You can find Post #1 here.  

Post #2 here.  

Post #3 here.  

Post #4 here.  

Post #5 here.     



My final Goodreads review.

I’m torn between four and a half and five stars.  I rounded to five.  Waugh’s gorgeous prose is the deciding factor. 

What is this novel about?  I can’t help feeling that the central, controlling concept of the novel is displacement.  There is in the novel the displacement of Edwardian England by the force of the First World War.  We see this through the lives of Lord and Lady Marchmain, Charles’ father, and the deaths of Lady Marchmain’s brothers.  There is the displacement of inter war England by the Second World War.  Lives are displaced, Charles enters the army, and Brideshead castle is damaged and the furniture is packed away upstairs.  There is the displacement of the upper classes as middle and lower classes gain in status.  We see this in Hooper and Mottram.  And there is the displacement of something in each of the main characters which fractures their sense of being.

For Sebastian, the displacement seems to have occurred in childhood.  At first I seemed to be drawn to some sort of causal link between some event in his childhood that could be at the root of his unhappiness and alcoholism.  Waugh even gives us possible suggestions for that causal link: a father who abandoned his family when Sebastian was a child, an overbearing mother, a Catholicism that constricts his freedom, fear of responsibility, which is akin to fear of growing up, and perhaps, as many dramatizations of this novel seem to imply, an unfulfilled homosexual desire.  Now it may be all of these things or it may be none.  The novel is not intended to be that kind of psychological examination.  The mystery of Sabastian’s nature leads the reader to try to solve the mystery, but Waugh makes sure it’s unsolvable.  What the reader is left with is the fact of displacement from a happy, Edenic time to a fallen state.  This is still psychology—all studies of human nature must involve psychology (there was psychology as early as in the writing of Homer’s Iliad; there’s psychology in Adam and Eve)—but not as we think of psychology in the 20th century sense.  Call this displacement, Catholic psychology.

For Charles his Edenic moment is in that summer with Sebastian at Brideshead.  It is at this time he feels the near freedom of adulthood but still the wonder of a boy.  He explores a beautiful world, lives an epicurean life-style, and shares Sebastian’s friendship, a friendship based on mutual love.  Though they are a bit older than just mere boys, I’m convinced their friendship and love is boyish and platonic.  It would have to be for the novel to make sense.  Though not everything they do is holy, such friendship is ultimately holy, a grace that works in their hearts.

And then a displacement comes.  Sebastian sinks into alcoholism.  He cannot bear to live with his family.  Perhaps boyhood ends.  Perhaps pubescent longings mature into sex drives.  Perhaps the responsibility of adulthood—the responsibility that led Lady Marchmain’s brothers to die in WWI—pulls Sebastian and Charles away from that love.  But a displacement occurs.  Sebastian leaves England altogether and Charles becomes a semi-famous though mediocre painter. 

Such displacement leaves a hole in their being.  They try to fill it.  Sebastian with alcohol and a needy lover.  Charles with his work, lovers, a wife, and an affair.  Displacement incurs a longing to return.  His affair with Julia, who happens to look very much like Sebastian, is an attempt to return to that holy love of that first Brideshead summer.  Sebastian was “the first” not because there was sex involved but because with Sebastian Charles had found holy love.  Julia too has her own displacement.  She finds grace in her young womanhood.  She wants to marry Catholic, but the events of life just displace her away from that.  In the midst of their affair, Julia asks Charles if he had forgotten Sebastian and Charles tells her, “He was a forerunner.”  And then Charles thinks about that, contemplates it deeply. 


“Perhaps,” I thought, while her words still hung in the air between us like a wisp of tobacco smoke—a thought to fade and vanish like smoke without a trace—“perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us.” I had not forgotten Sebastian. He was with me daily in Julia; or rather it was Julia I had known in him, in those distant Arcadian days.  (p. 349)

That thought is at the heart of the narrative.  Let me complete his thought in this way: “Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols” of a greater love of a distant home where we were as full of our being as God created us to be.  That's what I think he means in direct prose.  Call that place heaven, our true home, and call our journey in this life a striving to return, a journey to return to heaven, to return to our full being, a return to our true home.  The name of the novel even provides an association of it: Brideshead > Bridegroom > Christ > Heaven.  Revisited > Return > Home.  The novel is a return to Brideshead, which is a return to home, a home with all the pregnant meaning that Waugh has put into it.  This is why nostalgia figures so in the novel.  It is a longing to go home.

It is no coincidence, then, that the novel’s climax is with Lord Marchmain’s return to Brideshead.  Having been displaced by the First World War, and subsequently self-displaced from his family and ancestral home, in the end he returns home.  In one sense it completes the circle of his life, and, then having reconciled with God and his Catholic faith, he goes on to his eternal home.  When he makes the sign of the cross, he fully returns home and the displacement of twenty-something years has been righted.


This longing to return home is the grace that works on all the characters.  Allow me to paraphrase one of Jesus’s sayings:  “If you make my word your home, you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (John 8:31-32).  Displacement is the first experience when we are born.  It is beyond our memory, but the sense of that memory remains.  It is a memory of being loved, the mystery of being loved, which leads us to home in all its metaphorical senses.  Remembering this sense of home leads us to a deeper longing, the longing to be complete.  The sense of nostalgia is an inkling to a greater desire, the desire to be free and to reach our eternal home.  This is what I think this novel is about.

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Some really fine excerpts to highlight Evelyn Waugh’s beautiful prose.

Form the Prologue, the opening paragraphs:


When I reached “C” Company lines, which were at the top of the hill, I paused and looked back at the camp, just coming into full view below me through the gray mist of early morning. We were leaving that day. When we marched in, three months before, the place was under snow; now the first leaves of spring were unfolding. I had reflected then that, whatever scenes of desolation lay ahead of us, I never feared one more brutal than this, and I reflected now that it had no single happy memory for me.

 

Here love had died between me and the Army.

 

Here the tram lines ended, so that men returning fuddled from Glasgow could doze in their seats until roused by their journey’s end. There was some way to go from the tram-stop to the camp gates; quarter of a mile in which they could button their blouses and straighten their caps before passing the guard-room, quarter of a mile in which concrete gave place to grass at the road’s edge. This was the extreme limit of the city. Here the close, homogeneous territory of housing estates and cinemas ended and the hinterland began.  (p. 2-3)

 

From Book 1, Chapter 1, Chares and Sebastian drive out to the country.

 

At Swindon we turned off the main road and, as the sun mounted high, we were among dry-stone walls and ashlar houses. It was about eleven when Sebastian, without warning, turned the car into a cart track and stopped. It was hot enough now to make us seek the shade. On a sheep-cropped knoll under a clump of elms we ate the strawberries and drank the wine—as Sebastian promised, they were delicious together—and we lit fat, Turkish cigarettes and lay on our backs, Sebastian’s eyes on the leaves above him, mine on his profile, while the blue-gray smoke rose, untroubled by any wind, to the blue-green shadows of foliage, and the sweet scent of the tobacco merged with the sweet summer scents around us and the fumes of the sweet, golden wine seemed to lift us a finger’s breadth above the turf and hold us suspended.

 

“Just the place to bury a crock of gold,” said Sebastian. “I should like to bury something precious in every place where I’ve been happy and then, when I was old and ugly and miserable, I could come back and dig it up and remember.” (p. 24-25)

 

From Book 1, Chapter 2, Charles looking back at his first year at Oxford.

 

In the event, that Easter vacation formed a short stretch of level road in the precipitous descent of which Jasper warned me. Descent or ascent? It seems to me that I grew younger daily with each adult habit that I acquired. I had lived a lonely childhood and a boyhood straitened by war and overshadowed by bereavement; to the hard bachelordom of English adolescence, the premature dignity and authority of the school system, I had added a sad and grim strain of my own. Now, that summer term with Sebastian, it seemed as though I was being given a brief spell of what I had never known, a happy childhood, and though its toys were silk shirts and liqueurs and cigars and its naughtiness high in the catalogue of grave sins, there was something of nursery freshness about us that fell little short of the joy of innocence. At the end of the term I took my first schools; it was necessary to pass, if I was to remain at Oxford, and pass I did, after a week in which I forbade Sebastian my rooms and sat up to a late hour, with iced black coffee and charcoal biscuits, cramming myself with the neglected texts. I remember no syllable of them now, but the other, more ancient lore which I acquired that term will be with me in one shape or another to my last hour. “I like this bad set and I like getting drunk at luncheon”; that was enough then. Is more needed now?  (p. 47-48)

 

From Book 1, Chapter 4, Charles reflecting on his summer with Sebastian.

 

The languor of Youth—how unique and quintessential it is! How quickly, how irrecoverably, lost! The zest, the generous affections, the illusions, the despair, all the traditional attributes of Youth—all save this—come and go with us through life. These things are a part of life itself; but languor—the relaxation of yet unwearied sinews, the mind sequestered and self-regarding—that belongs to Youth alone and dies with it. Perhaps in the mansions of Limbo the heroes enjoy some such compensation for their loss of the Beatific Vision; perhaps the Beatific Vision itself has some remote kinship with this lowly experience; I, at any rate, believed myself very near heaven, during those languid days at Brideshead. (p. 87)

 

From Book 2, Chapter 2, Charles becomes infatuated with Julia.

 

That night and the night after and the night after, wherever she went, always in her own little circle of intimates, she brought a moment of joy, such as strikes deep to the heart on the river’s bank when the kingfisher suddenly flares across the water.

 

This was the creature, neither child nor woman, that drove me through the dusk that summer evening, untroubled by love, taken aback by the power of her own beauty, hesitating on the cool edge of life; one who had suddenly found herself armed, unawares; the heroine of a fairy story turning over in her hands the magic ring; she had only to stroke it with her fingertips and whisper the charmed word, for the earth to open at her feet and belch forth her titanic servant, the fawning monster who would bring her whatever she asked, but bring it, perhaps, in unwelcome shape. 

 

She had no interest in me that evening; the jinn rumbled below us uncalled; she lived apart in a little world, within a little world, the innermost of a system of concentric spheres, like the ivory balls laboriously carved in China; a little problem troubling her mind—little, as she saw it, in abstract terms and symbols. She was wondering, dispassionately and leagues distant from reality, whom she should marry. Thus strategists hesitate over the map, the few pins and lines of colored chalk, contemplating a change in the pins and lines, a matter of inches, which outside the room, out of sight of the studious officers, may engulf past, present, and future in ruin or life. She was a symbol to herself then, lacking the life of both child and woman; victory and defeat were changes of pin and line; she knew nothing of war.  (p. 207-208)

 

From Book 3, Chapter 1, Charles reflects on his ten years since last at Brideshead.

 

My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one gray morning of war-time.

 

These memories, which are my life—for we possess nothing certainly except the past—were always with me. Like the pigeons of St. Mark’s, they were everywhere, under my feet, singly, in pairs, in little honey-voiced congregations, nodding, strutting, winking, rolling the tender feathers of their necks, perching sometimes, if I stood still, on my shoulder; until, suddenly, the noon gun boomed and in a moment, with a flutter and sweep of wings, the pavement was bare and the whole sky above dark with a tumult of fowl. Thus it was that morning of war-time.

 

For nearly ten dead years after that evening with Cordelia I was borne along a road outwardly full of change and incident, but never during that time, except sometimes in my painting—and that at longer and longer intervals—did I come alive as I had been during the time of my friendship with Sebastian. I took it to be youth, not life, that I was losing. My work upheld me, for I had chosen to do what I could do well, did better daily, and liked doing; incidentally it was something which no one else at that time was attempting to do. I became an architectural painter.  (p. 260-261)

 

From Book 3, Chapter 3, Charles reflects on his two year relationship with Julia.

 

It had been an afternoon of low cloud and summer squalls, so overcast that at times I had stopped work and roused Julia from the light trance in which she sat—she had sat so often; I never tired of painting her, forever finding in her new wealth and delicacy—until at length we had gone early to our baths and, on coming down, dressed for dinner, in the last half-hour of the day, we found the world transformed; the sun had emerged; the wind had fallen to a soft breeze which gently stirred the blossom in the limes and carried its fragrance, fresh from the late rains, to merge with the sweet breath of box and the drying stone. The shadow of the obelisk spanned the terrace.

 

I had carried two garden cushions from the shelter of the colonnade and put them on the rim of the fountain. There Julia sat, in a tight little gold tunic and a white gown, one hand in the water idly turning an emerald ring to catch the fire of the sunset; the carved animals mounted over her dark head in a cumulus of green moss and glowing stone and dense shadow, and the waters round them flashed and bubbled and broke into scattered flames.  (p. 318-319)

 

From Book 3, Chapter 5, Lord Marchmain returns to Brideshead.

 

Julia gave a little sigh of surprise and touched my hand. We had seen him nine months ago at Monte Carlo, when he had been an upright and stately figure, little changed from when I first met him in Venice. Now he was an old man. Plender had told us his master had been unwell lately: he had not prepared us for this.

 

Lord Marchmain stood bowed and shrunken, weighed down by his great-coat, a white muffler fluttering untidily at his throat, a cloth cap pulled low on his forehead, his face white and lined, his nose colored by the cold; the tears which gathered in his eyes came not from emotion but from the east wind; he breathed heavily. Cara tucked in the end of his muffler and whispered something to him. He raised a gloved hand—a schoolboy’s glove of gray wool—and made a small, weary gesture of greeting to the group at the door; then, very slowly, with his eyes on the ground before him, he made his way into the house.

 

They took off his coat and cap and muffler and the kind of leather jerkin which he wore under them; thus stripped he seemed more than ever wasted but more elegant; he had cast the shabbiness of extreme fatigue. Cara straightened his tie; he wiped his eyes with a bandanna handkerchief and shuffled with his stick to the hall fire.

 

There was a little heraldic chair by the chimney-piece, one of a set which stood against the walls, a little, inhospitable, flat-seated thing, a mere excuse for the elaborate armorial painting on its back, on which, perhaps, no one, not even a weary footman, had ever sat since it was made; there Lord Marchmain sat and wiped his eyes.  (p. 364-365)

 

From the Epilogue, Charles goes to the chapel to pray, the final lines of the novel.

 

There was one part of the house I had not yet visited, and I went there now. The chapel showed no ill-effects of its long neglect; the art-nouveau paint was as fresh and bright as ever; the art-nouveau lamp burned once more before the altar. I said a prayer, an ancient, newly-learned form of words, and left, turning towards the camp; and as I walked back, and the cook-house bugle sounded ahead of me, I thought:

 

“The builders did not know the uses to which their work would descend; they made a new house with the stones of the old castle; year by year, generation after generation, they enriched and extended it; year by year the great harvest of timber in the park grew to ripeness; until, in sudden frost, came the age of Hooper; the place was desolate and the work all brought to nothing; Quomodo sedet sola civitas. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

 

“And yet,” I thought, stepping out more briskly towards the camp, where the bugles after a pause had taken up the second call and were sounding “Pick-em-up, pick-em-up, hot potatoes,” “and yet that is not the last word; it is not even an apt word; it is a dead word from ten years back.

 

“Something quite remote from anything the builders intended, has come out of their work, and out of the fierce little human tragedy in which I played; something none of us thought about at the time; a small red flame—a beaten-copper lamp of deplorable design relit before the beaten-copper doors of a tabernacle; the flame which the old knights saw from their tombs, which they saw put out; that flame burns again for other soldiers, far from home, farther, in heart, than Acre or Jerusalem. It could not have been lit but for the builders and the tragedians, and there I found it this morning, burning anew among the old stones.”

 

I quickened my pace and reached the hut which served us for our ante-room.

 

“You’re looking unusually cheerful today,” said the second-in-command.  (p. 408-410)