Last Wednesday, much to my shock and chagrin, a rather unremarkable meme tweeted by yours truly concerning the farce that is “Indigenous Peoples’ Day” was picked up by none other than right-wing darling Ann Coulter. In less than 24 hours, my tweet had been re-tweeted nearly 1,000 times. Then the zaniness set in. As much as I appreciate new Twitter followers and web-log readers, I should stress in no uncertain terms that I do not identify with the alt-right, nor do I support Donald Trump’s bid for the presidency. As I tried to make clear on Twitter, I am an integralist — nothing more, nothing less. That doesn’t mean there aren’t certain positions that I hold that are alt-right-ish. For instance, I support thorough background checks for immigrants and refugees arriving from the Middle East and believe that Middle-Eastern Christians should be prioritized; I am skeptical of free-trade accords and surrendering of economic sovereignty; and I harbor a very low opinion of international institutions and law (at least as conventionally understood). However, as I have repeatedly made clear on Opus Publicum, I reject the ethnic and racialist elements of the alt-right and I stand by the perennial teaching of the Catholic Church that I am under no obligation to vote in the upcoming election. Admittedly, that does place me at odds with many conservatives, including some conservative and traditional Catholics who feel that it is their duty to stop Hillary Clinton’s White House run at all costs. So be it, so be it.
On my way to church this morning I heard a brief, but positive, story on Michigan Radio (National Public Radio affiliate) about the Institute of Christ the King’s (ICKSP) arrival today in Detroit at the St. Joseph Oratory. The report probably wasn’t as clear as it ought to have been, though I appreciate the story stressing the ICKSP’s work in restoring old churches while bringing the traditional Mass to the faithful. As some readers may recall, I paid many a visit to the Institute’s Shrine in Chicago when I lived there. Tragically, last October, the Shrine was engulfed by flames and the restoration work already put into the historic structure was lost. By the Grace of God, the ICKSP received the green-light to press ahead with bringing the Shrine back to life. While it will take years before the church building is fully restored, you can help in the Institute’s good work by donating to their efforts here. I can say without reservation that my experiences with the Institute’s clergy was uniformly positive. Moreover, their willingness to reintroduce certain aspects of the pre-1962 liturgy is to be applauded.
Speaking of liturgy, there is an Antiochian Orthodox mission not terribly far from my abode — St. Willibrord — which does a rather remarkable job combining Antiochian liturgical norms with a Russian musical aesthetic. This strikes me as wise. To most Western years, Byzantine and Arab chant can be a little off-putting, and if it’s not done well, it’s absolutely wretched. Additionally, there are far more online and published resources for Russian liturgical music available in English than for any other Eastern chant system around. Years ago I suggested that, in time, a common liturgical aesthetic would eventually took root in the United States, though that was back during my “optimistic days” when I thought American Orthodoxy was less than a decade away from ecclesiastical unity. This is not to say that I think American Orthodoxy needs to flock to one chant system alone. There are many beautiful Byzantine (or Byzantine-inspired) settings that should be retained, not to mention a number of other lesser-appreciated systems, such as Carpatho-Rusyn chant, that many Orthodox rarely get to hear. Maybe the hope I had was that one day a man could walk into an Orthodox parish and know before it starts how many litanies he will pray. Is that too much to ask?
Since I am already “out East,” I’ll close this out there. I am starting to make my way again through the two-volume memoirs of Metropolitan Evlogy, My Life’s Journey. I want to see if, on a second reading, my initial judgment holds up, namely that these memories are indispensable reading for all Orthodox Christians (particularly would-be converts). For those unaware, Evlogy lived and served the Russian Orthodox Church during the waning years of “Holy Russia” and was instrumental for leading the Orthodox diaspora in Western Europe after the Soviet Revolution. It seems there was no ecclesiastical event (or upheaval) from that period that Evlogy was not front-and-center for. Even non-Orthodox, particularly Greek Catholics, may be interested in Evlogy’s interaction with Greek and Latin Catholics during that period. Needless to say, while Evlogy recounts the efforts of many holy priests and monastics to keep the flame of Orthodoxy alive, his first-hand account of “Holy Russia” is less-than-edifying at times. A clerical caste system, political interference, mixed levels of education, disaffected youth (particularly the sons of clergy), and a most of other social and political problems conspired to consign Orthodoxy to being little more than a cultural artifact in late-Imperial Russia. Just like today, the 19th/early 20th Century was no “golden age” for Russian Orthodoxy, and the sooner more Orthodox understand this, the healthier their communion will be.