From Charles Coulombe at The European Conservative:
September and October in Europe are filled with innumerable harvest
festivals and blessings of the fields; Michaelmas is a great holiday in
many places—and even in England greeted with daisies and roast goose. If
Halloween is an American import outside of the British Isles’ Celtic
Fringe (wherein you’ll still find some very interesting observances),
throughout Catholic and even much of Lutheran Europe the cemeteries are
the places to be on All Saints Night and All Souls Day, with their
innumerable beautiful candles. Catholic or Protestant, hounds shall be
blessed and horns sound in churches across the Continent in honour of
St. Hubert’s Day. November 11, with its sombre memories of the Great
War, is festooned with red poppies, blue cornflowers, and forget-me-nots
in Britain, France, and Germany. But it is also Martinmas, welcomed
with goose and red wine—and in Central Europe, singing children illumine
the night with paper lanterns and songs in honour of St. Martin. Every
Scot keeps St. Andrew’s Day, while St. Nicholas in turn is welcomed on
his feast day with his creepy companion (be he called Knecht Ruprecht,
Zwart Piet, or Krampus) for the children’s rewards or punishments. The
buildup to Christmas unleashes a cavalcade of local customs, but the
candle-crowned girls on St. Lucy’s Day in Sweden with their morning
coffee and cakes are among the most charming. The observances of
Christmas Eve and Day vary not only from country to country but province
to province and even town to town, with the gifts brought by figures
ranging from Father Christmas to the Christ Child Himself. But the next
too is kept well, whether one hunt the wren in Ireland or bless the
horses in Hungary. New Year’s Eve and Day are also great times for
celebration, with everything from telling fortunes with molten lead to
giving more gifts to first-footing. But the Epiphany is a much bigger
feast in Europe than America, with children again going singing from
door to door in German-speaking lands, and the Three Kings and Befana
bringing gifts in Spain and Italy. So it goes on, until the revelry of
Candlemas and Carnevale.
Even so, it is not just Autumn and Winter that are heavy with such
feasts; every season has them, from Ireland and Portugal to the Ural
Mountains—indeed, they are celebrated with redoubled vigour in Central
and Eastern Europe since the fall of Communism. Most, of course, are
based like the ones we have looked at on the liturgical year, be it
Latin or Byzantine, Gregorian or Julian. Nor is it only on the calendar
that Christianity has left its mark in Europe. Every palace and castle
has its chapel; every city and town has its cathedral or civic church.
The abbeys—ruined or occupied—still mark the landscape, as do
innumerable wayside shrines and holy wells. So too has the Faith marked
the arts and literature of Europe, no matter how much artists and
writers attempt to escape it. In a word, the identity of Europe is
complete, utterly, and inescapably bound up with Christianity.
But herein lies a problem. It is certainly true that – as with
American Christmas, Easter, and Halloween—it is possible to celebrate
the many feasts of the European year without any faith, even as it is
possible for American Supreme Court Justices to attend the annual Red
Mass of the Holy Ghost in Washington, D.C., or innumerable British
municipal bodies to have civic services or kirkins of the council
offered on their behalf. It can all be, as American jurists have
it—“civic Deism”—pretty rituals emptied of all religious or other
meaning through endless repetition. Christmas can indeed be just about
gifts, Easter about bunnies, and Martinmas about geese. Even in this
meaningless practise, there is the feel-good rush of nostalgia, of
revived feelings of good-will. Surely that is enough? (Read more.)
Also from Charles Coulombe:
In all of my travels, it struck me
that just as—in a real sense—the descendants of the Recusants and the
members of the Ordinariate in Britain are truly the most English of the
English, the most Welsh of the Welsh, and the most Scot of the Scots
because they are the direct inheritors of what founded their countries
and made them great, my new friends are truly the most Danish of the
Danes. Despite the national superstitions that conflate national
identities with their Protestant State Churches, the same is true of all
Northern Europe. Despite the centuries of apostasy, the old churches
and castles and manor house, the woods and fields—all of the
landscape—cry out that these were Catholic countries. It is wonderful to
see, in Denmark at least, that more and more are heeding the call.
It is not merely a question of safeguarding a glorious past,
however, anymore than it is among the surviving devout in post-Catholic
countries, from Ireland to Italy to Austria. It is about building a
truly Catholic and so humane future. My young friends plan to make this
event a recurring one—and to invite similar groups from around
Scandinavia: Swedes, Norwegians, perhaps even Finns and Icelanders. All
of us Catholics around the world must support these developments, with
our prayers if nothing else.
Indeed, it is interesting to note
that this movement is organic; it is not an initiative of the hierarchy,
but rather a spontaneous outburst, a natural result of goodwill seeking
Infallible Truth—and finding it in Catholic Tradition. Just as the
initiative for the Ordinariates came from the Anglican side, so too
here. But this renewed search for reality is not confined to the lands
of the Reformation: my last two (adult) godsons have been respectively a
Brahmin Hindu from Calcutta and a Jew from Israel—both of whom found
the Faith on their own. In the latter’s convert class here in Austria,
over half of the thirty or so others were Iranians or Afghans.
Eras which see mass fallings away
from the Faith often see compensations elsewhere. The loss of the Near
East to Islam preceded wholesale national conversions in Northern and
Eastern Europe; even as millions followed Luther, Calvin, and Henry VIII
out of the Church, millions more followed Our Lady of Guadalupe and St.
Francis Xavier in. It may well be that a period which has witnessed
majorities fall away from the practice of the Faith in what were the
Catholic heartlands in Ireland, Southwestern Europe, and Latin America
may precede one that shall see them made up or excelled in lands
traditionally hostile toward the Church. Nothing could be more fitting
than a return to Catholicity of those Scandinavian lands who first
brought the Faith to North America. But regardless of the macrocosm,
every soul is infinitely precious to God—sufficiently so for Him to die
for each of them. Any individual on his way to the Truth should be
nurtured every way we know how—for our own soul’s sake as well as his. (Read more.)
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