Remember of the Roman Catholic Church has written a brief survey of its history. In many ways it is a sordid story; one of doubtful practices, corruption, intrigue and bitterness; of duplicity in high places. I was not shocked as some might be. Perhaps it was because the details were, for the most part, not unknown to me. It could be that a remembered early experience of Irish Catholic priests’ kindliness and sincerity smoothed the edges. I remembered, too, the old proverb, “People who live in glass houses should not throw stones”! For all that, there are incidents against which one’s better self revolts and, in consequence, the book does not commend the Church to a non-Catholic.
Its title is a simple one, “A Short History of the Catholic Church” (Hale, London, 22/6 Aust.). Its author, Denis Meadows, relates his story recognising the blemishes, offers no excuses and makes no attempt to whitewash the black sheep, of which, in the top ranks, there were so many. At the same time, it would be unfair to overlook the many earnest characters who have devotedly given their lives over to its cause.
There is a useful appendix of several pages -With two self-explanatory columns headed, “Pontiff” and “Church History”, giving relevant names and dates. The first entry under the former is “St. Peter (29- 67)”. In the other column we learn that the years of 64-7 were those of persecution under Nero, and 67 the “martyrdom of SS Peter and Paul”. I have always been puzzled about the alleged pontificate of Peter and wondered why, if he was the first pope, he did nothing to help Paul and the other early Christians in the face of their great sufferings. Surely this was the book to supply the information I had always lacked! What a disappointment! Emphasis is laid upon Matthew 16 and the familiar story of Peter and the rock and that in John 21 of the incident, “Feed my lambs”. Then follows the prominence of Peter in the Acts and the story quickly merges into other Church history. No reason is offered for calling Peter the first pontiff. Maybe the Catholics do not mean what we think they mean, for no attempt is made to compare the early leadership of Peter with the status, say, of John XXIII.
Two words provide a key to understanding the domination of the Catholic Church. They are “authority” and “submission”. Every convert must face them. One does not join the Church of Rome—they submit to Rome. This term, I fancy an official expression, comes a few times into this book. Of their greatest convert from the Anglican Church, John Henry Newman (later Cardinal), Meadows writes, “. . . on a stormy October night in 1845 he (Newman) submitted to Rome”. And submission recognises authority.
The centuries-old bitter struggle between the Papacy and emperors and kings occupies much of the book. Papal militance is seen as a just struggle and the power exerted, often cruel in the insistence of its will, is accepted as something that was lawful and proper. This is illustrated by the calm telling of the familiar story of Henry IV who, in another sense, was compelled to submit to the authority of Pope Gregory VII. He, the Emperor of Germany, was made to wait in the mountain snows at Canossa for three days barefoot and clad only in the “coarse shirt of a penitent”. I am not surprised to read that all Henry’s penitence proved false. He set up an antipope (that is an opposition pope) and in the end Gregory VII, one of Rome’s greatest pontiffs died in exile.
The soft pedal is laid on the Inquisition. Meadows asserts that whilst the “inquisitions” or interrogations arose as a result of false doctrine, it was the secular arm that inflicted the vile punishments, despite papal disapproval. The Spanish Inquisition is dismissed very briefly. Full blame is laid on the Spanish monarchy which, we read, “had rapidly gone beyond what Rome had regarded as its lawful authority”. It is illuminating to read from Fisher’s “History of Europe” that the inquisition
“under the impulsion of Philip II was so thoroughly performed that heresy, in Spain a new and unfamiliar plant, was stamped out before it began to acquire strength. The Roman Church was henceforth secure”.
The last sentence is significant and speaks for itself — and, in my view, conforms to other accepted historical records.
The most disappointing chapter is the last, and well it might be! Could it be otherwise? The illusion of the centuries is the deceiver of today.
“To believe, as Catholics must do, that their Church cannot suffer extinction and, as they are free to do, to speculate on the outcome of certain present-day tendencies, may lead to bizarre and even contradictory forecasts.”
There is no more hope offered than these words.
As is always the case with the reading of such books, a sense of satisfaction emerges, that only the Truth can give peace of mind and provide confidence for the future.
Review of “The Early Earth” by John Whitcomb (1972)