Bond in the Confessional

James Bond is a ruthless killer but only when he has to be. He never hurts, let alone kills, the innocent. Far from it. His life is dedicated to protecting them, however much it costs him. How does he do it? To kill another person is an objectively sinful act. In certain circumstances it is permissible but that doesn't remove the potentially corruptive effect of the killing. James Bond lives in the shadow of murder but is never corrupted by it. At least, not fully. The blood of his victims never causes him to slip and fall into the abyss of psychopathy. 

I was thinking about this last night and came to the conclusion that when Bond joined the 00 programme, he must have received very good ethics training. Or maybe he really listened to his R. E. or Sunday School teacher. I'd love to read a book or see a film in which we see the creation, as it were, of James Bond the hero rather than killer - the formation of that side of him that stops, no matter how many women he sleeps with, people he uses, or deaths he sees, Bond himself descending into madness. 

If I was writing the story I would absolutely make Bond's mentor a religious figure, perhaps a wise old monk. Having said that, I am already fearing re-creating the Luke Skywalker-Ben Kenobi dynamic, which would be no good (because it's been done already) so there would have to be something between the two men that made it uniquely their relationship. I know how it would end: in recognition of Bond's ruthlessness, he would walk away from his mentor, but only physically. Somehow, the priest would remain with him in spirit, and it would be this remaining that keeps him on the brink of the abyss rather than tumbling into it.

Also, that walking away could explain why Bond drinks too much. He no longer confesses to his priest but to his drink. Yes, it's sad, but James Bond is in his way a sad person, a tortured soul. No 'normal' person would choose to do what he does for a living.

This post was originally published on my Contemplative Art page.

The Ecstasy of St. Teresa

The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa (of Ávila) is a really extraordinary statue in Rome. Teresa, founder of the Discalced Carmelite Order, lies prone as an angel prepares to pierce her heart and stomach with a spear. The sculpture is based on a vision that Teresa had and which she recounted in her autobiography (Click the Wikipedia link below to read the relevant passage). 

There's no getting round this, so I might as well say it, the sculpture has a really strong sexual element to it. Teresa looks like she is about to orgasm. Well, I guess she is, but spiritually. That's what ecstasy is. Rather than lowering the tone, I think this interpretation raises the dignity of the sexual act. As well as having the procreative function that the Church likes to talk about, a pleasurable one that the world likes to focus on, it has a spiritual aspect as well, being an earthly echo of Man's union with God. That thought, I would say, is well worth holding onto. We live in a world where sex is cheap. The Ecstasy of St. Teresa reminds us that it is priceless.

In addition to the sexual element, there is also a violent one. In her autobiography, Teresa describes how the angel thrust the spear into her heart and stomach not just once but multiple times. Well, that's passion for you. It tends not to be a docile affair but fiery. I'll admit, I could have done without the violence but I like the idea that it can be seen not as a vision of hurt but of love.

A Short Prayer

Dear Lord,

help me to love you with a fiery love,

fiery and gentle, fiery and faithful,

fiery and full of your spirit of love.

In Jesus' most holy name,

Amen

St. Teresa of Ávila - pray for us.

10th October 2026

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Wikipedia

On Love

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post on 'Why be a Catholic' and the reason I focused on was love: the Church helped me to love. At the end of the post, I noted that many people find the Catholic Church to be unloving, for example, in her beliefs on sexuality. Same sex attraction is regarded as a (spiritual) disorder. Sexual acts between men or women is a sin. I said I would come back to this subject as I have skin in the game: I am bisexual. 

So, here I am.

I guess we have two questions here: How can the Catholic Church help anyone to love if she is unloving, and how can I be a Catholic given what the Church teaches about my sexual orientation?

In regards the first question, if we take that the Church is unloving because of her teaching on sexuality (or anything else for that matter), that doesn't automatically mean that she cannot love at all. She is flawed; okay, but you are flawed, so am I, and yet we are still able to love. It's the same with the Church. It is possible for an organised body to be so thoroughly corrupt that no good can come from her, but the Catholic Church is not that body. She has many centuries of proof in that regard.

In regards the second question, it is awkward, and no mistake. If I was younger the issue might have mattered more; however, I am now in my 50s and as I have got older, I have grown to be more and more trusting of God's mercy. It may be that the Church's current teaching on homosexuality is the final word on the matter, I don't believe that it is, but even if it is I trust completely that at my life's end God will show me perfect mercy as well as be perfectly just. In the meantime, I will continue to praise the Lord and try to follow Him as well as I can.

For those interested, my view is that there is still more to discover about legitimate (i.e. Godly) expressions of love. The Church's current teaching is a flower only half in bloom. One day, I expect it to come into complete bloom. When it does, some of us will be surprised about the expressions we rejected.

Having said all that, I must be honest and say that at the moment this part of my life is quite easy for me: I am single. If I took a boyfriend my Catholic life would take, let's say, an interesting turn. I'm happy to cross that bridge when I come to it. What I won't do, however, is tear myself up about my situation. I will live as truthfully as I can, pray, think, pray some more, read, and listen only to voices who are authoritative and who I trust; the others, no matter how loud or popular they are, I will let drift away on the wind. 

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Michał Turkiewicz

The Oriel Fathers

from my Contemplative Art page

The Oriel Fathers

'The Oriel Fathers' depicts some of the leaders of the nineteenth century Oxford Movement, which sought to reconcile Anglicanism with Catholicism. From left to right we see Cardinal Manning, Edward Pusey, John Henry Newman, John Keble, and Samuel Wilberforce. 

Of the five below, it was Manning and Newman who, as the saying goes, crossed the Tiber. When Newman did so, he lost many friends. 

As we contemplate this piece of art, a caricature though it is, let's pray for non-Catholic Christians that they may grow in their faith, and that it may lead them to cross the Tiber also, and for those who, like Newman, have lost the friendship of those dear to them when they found the fullness of that faith in the Catholic Church.

A Short Prayer

Dear Lord,

may we be one in you,

and in friendship with one another,

whichever side of the river we call home.

Amen

3rd October 2026

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Keough-Naughton Institute

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

This post first appeared on the Contemplative Art page on 9th August 2026

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

"I picked at random and took out a large volume. It bore the title The Life of St. Teresa of Avila, written by herself. I began to read, was at once captivated, and did not stop 'til I reached the end. As I closed the book, I said, "That is the truth."

Imagine you are sitting outside with Edith Stein. She has just told you how she found God. Tell her how you found Him, or about your search. Though you are both still, walk with her through words and desire; pray for her intercession. The Lord is her everything and she wants to make him yours as well.

A Short Prayer

Dear Lord,

Show me the Truth

As you showed it to Edith Stein.

Amen

9th August 2026

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OSV News

Quotation

Carmelite Quotes 

What God Knows

This morning I read a lovely post on Instagram by @capuchinswest. It was about Padre Pio who believed that we could pray for our ancestors. 

According to the post, Padre Pio once told a doctor that he (Pio) could pray for his long dead great-grandfather to have a happy death. The doctor was surprised, but the saintly capuchin monk told him, “For God, the past does not exist; the future does not exist. Everything is an eternal present.”

St. Pio’s words make absolute sense and so we should all make praying for those who have gone before - no matter how long ago - part of our prayer lives. 

Everything existing in an eternal now for God is a truly amazing thought. In this now He sees the Big Bang and the end of all life in the universe. If anything existed before the Big Bang, that is part of His now, too; He also sees the universe devoid of life once even the last black hole has evaporated, as well as its eventual end - if the universe will ever cease to exist. He sees all the love, all the hate, all the violence and wars, all the acts of kindness and compassion, the greatest and least deeds in one great eternal now.

Blimey.

I wonder what the saints in heaven know about the past, present, and future? I would assume that they remember their own lives but what knowledge might they have beyond that? Do they have access to the entire story of reality? I have a feeling that the answer would be no since it would be too large a story for any human - glorified or not - to bear but who knows; in heaven we will be the perfected version of the people that we are on earth so perhaps that will give us the ability to see all that was, is, and will be without going mad. 

Madness, of course, won’t exist in heaven. On another note, if the saints remember their earthly lives, I wonder how exactly they’ll remember them. I would guess that their knowledge will, somehow, be purified so that the remembrance of past hurts and sins will no longer adversely affect them. The memories won’t be deleted but somehow made good. 

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Michael Krahn

Updating Trials and Tribulations

Updating the Home page of Fratelli Tutti has been a little difficult this week.

Firstly, I spilt some water on my laptop on Friday. It still worked but on Saturday, when I sat down to do some work, I found that a few of the keys no longer functioned. It is now at the repair shop awaiting a whole new keyboard.

As a result of this misadventure (which was all my own fault), I have had to use my phone for updating the Home page (and this post). I’ve managed to get the job done but it has been a whole lot more awkward using the smaller screen. I hope it hasn’t shown on the Home page too much. 

The second difficulty has come in providing links for the saints’ calendar.

For as long as I can remember I have used the Catholic Saints Info website as my primary source. In recent times, however, the website has become very slow to load; sometimes, it has not loaded at all. This is what happened when I tried to use the site yesterday. Rather than wait interminable amounts of time to find out who today’s saint is and get the link to their page I have opted to use my copy of the Divine Office, going on to the internet only when it didn’t have a saint for that day.

No laptop, having to use Blogspot on my mobile phone, slow Catholic Saints Info website: this is the definitely an offer it up moment. 

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Joseph Lemos

Love

For a long time now I have had the idea of writing a series of posts on 'why be a Catholic'.

I'd like to offer one reason, based on my own experience: love.

Why be a Catholic? It helps you to love. It certainly helped me to love.

Obviously not my friends and family and those I admire; I loved them already. But the other sort. The inconsiderate and unkind, selfish and hateful, the criminal, politicians of ill will... the list goes on but you get the idea.

Loving people who are unloveable is a freeing experience. No more being bound by negative and potentially self-destructive emotions. Recognition of God's love for me despite my many faults. Immersion in the most beautiful state of being one could ask for.

But how can I love someone like, say, the cyclist who cuts me up on the pavement or, rather more seriously, the likes of Donald Trump or Vladimir Putin? Loving is not the same as liking. I don't have to like them. Part of what loving is, is recognising that these people are (a) children of God (b) broken just like I am, perhaps more, perhaps less, but still broken (c) broken children for whom Jesus died in order to heal just like He died in order to heal me (d) capable of holiness if they choose to repent.

The above is not the full story but it is a part of it and it is what is in my mind and heart to write here.

Of course, the Catholic Church has certain beliefs that many people find unloving. For example, her teachings regarding sexuality. I'll try and come back to this because I have skin that game: I'm bisexual. For this post, though, I am so happy that I became a Catholic. In doing so I said yes, a mighty yes that even Mr. Emerson might have been impressed by, to love.

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ethan

NB Mr Emerson? Read or watch A Room With a View!

The Hierarchy of Truths

Up until a day or two ago, it was my impression that when the Catholic Church spoke about the 'hierarchy of truths' she was saying that some truths had to be adhered to if one wished to be in communion with the Church, specifically, Peter (i.e. the Pope), while others - to greater or lesser degrees - didn't.

For example, to be a Catholic in communion with Peter, you had to believe that Jesus was the Son of God, that He was born of the Virgin Mary, etc. But you did not have to believe that women may never become priests, or rather priestesses. You ought to because the Church had spoken authoritatively on the matter without declaring the teaching a matter of faith but because it wasn't 'de fide' you could dissent and still be in communion with Peter. Neither did you have to believe any economic teaching that the Church might put forward. This was, in my mind, especially the case as in the hierarchy of truths, the Church's economic teaching is somewhere near the bottom.

But then I read this article in America magazine, which presented a different view of what the Church means by hierarchy of truths. I'm not going to pretend I understood everything in the article but I have to say, if it is accurate, the Church's understanding of the hierarchy of truths is very beautiful. Rather than truths existing separately from each other in Division 1 of Importance, Division 2, Division 3, and so on, they are like a river; the essential truths (those that are 'de fide') are the source, all others flow from them, one truth to the next to the next. The truths that are closest to the source are more important than those further down river but nevertheless, all are important and can't be separated from each other.

What does this mean in terms of the assent we are required to give them? Because they are all joined together, am I obligated to believe the truths that are further down river, the 'lesser' or more junior ones as well as the most important? As I write these words, my answer is yes and no. Yes, I ought to believe them unless after prayer and consideration I perceive that the truth I am contemplating is not a truth after all, or, that it is not the full truth. In that case, no; even if somehow it puts me out of communion with Peter? Yes. The truth must always be followed. If it is truth, it will end with God just as it came from Him. 

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Priscilla Du Preez

Prayer and Praying

On most mornings, after I have said Lauds and read the day's scripture reading, I say my own private prayers. I have so many I keep them on my phone so that I can remember each and every one. Sometimes, however, I say them so fast that I barely apprehend them. It's as if they go from my eyes to my mouth to the ether without entering my head and heart. I say 'ether' deliberately because surely they don't go to heaven? Why would God care about prayers that we have cared about too little ourselves? And yet, this is to judge God's actions according to my standards. Not wise.

When it comes to praying the Rosary, I pray it whenever and wherever I can. I've talked in the past about praying it while doing the washing up. I also pray the Rosary while walking along the road. Often what happens though is that I end up simply saying the words and don't think about the mysteries to which they are attached. The Annunciation, Visitation, etc. This always concerns me because it means I am emptying the Rosary of its meaning, making the exercise a repetitious waste of time. On the other hand, however, it seems to me that even if I am not contemplating the mysteries properly, simply saying Our Father... Hail Mary... Glory be... is bringing me closer to God by virtue of the prayer's own innate holiness. Is it possible to turn the Rosary into a mantra?

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Anuja Tilj

Catholic Guilt

I was thinking about the idea of Catholic Guilt the other day.

Do you know when it first came about? I don't. I'm going to take a guess and say that it's origins lie in the pre-Vatican II era when priests were far more likely to preach fire-and-brimstone homilies than they are now. In doing so, they focused on God's punishment rather than on His mercy. A writer noticed this, and wrote an article or story which focused on the idea of Catholic Guilt and it grew in popularity (if that is the right word) from there.

I haven't done a search on the internet to find out the truth of the matter so I may be way off the mark. Either way, perhaps because I am a post-Vatican II child, and a convert at that, I don't feel much affected by the idea of Catholic Guilt.

No one should, really. God is love. If we sin and repent, He forgives us. Once He does that, we are in a state of grace. No more sin. No need to feel guilty.

Of course, it usually (always) happens that we fall out of that state of grace and sin again. No problem: say sorry again; get back to that state of grace. Keep doing it and keep doing it. Each time, focus on repentance and rejoice in the grace. That has to be the perfect antidote to this idea of Catholic guilt.

***

It occurs to me that this post is sixty years too late. By-and-large, priests no longer preach fire-and-brimstone homilies, and no one talks about Catholic Guilt, anymore; well, except me, it seems. I am very happy to be out-of-date. I know how history works, however, and how old errors can reappear. Maybe not in the same form as before, but in a not-so different one, either. This post is just in case anyone starts trying to making Catholics guilty again.

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Jametlene Reskp

Confession: A Blessing

I love going to confession.

On the one hand it can be a bit nerve wracking and, of course, embarrassing, but I never fail to come away feeling blessed and glad that I went. I'm always sorry that it is such a Cinderella sacrament.

***

I have been a Catholic for thirty years. In that time, I can only remember one sustained period (of about six months or so) when I didn't go to confession. That was because I got out of the habit of going and was forever putting off going back. 

Equally, I have only had two 'bad' experiences. One was my fault and the other, so far as I remember, was the priest's. I can't remember what it was he said that affected me negatively but don't mind: it tells me that whatever it was wasn't so very bad after all as I would otherwise have remembered. Anyway, while two negative experiences is two too many, given that priests are only human it is remarkable that the figure isn't higher. I have surely benefitted from being in the confessional with many holy priests, many who remember they are there 'in persona Christi'.

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Tómas Robertson

Edith Stein: One of My First Spiritual Loves

The course of my Catholic journey means that the Feast Day of any Carmelite saint is special to me, St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross's especially so.

When I became interested in Catholicism in 1995-6 she (along with Cardinal Newman) was one of the first saints whom I met along the Way. 

After I converted at Easter 1996 I did spend some time buying and reading books about and by her but I have to confess that in the years since, though I have never forgotten her, I haven't asked myself 'what is the basis of that attraction?' - because I still find both her and Newman very attractive - often enough. 

I guess at the beginning it was her intellectualism. When I converted I was still at university so living that kind of life. That's certainly what I liked about Newman. Today, I still respect her intellectual abilities - they were very, very great - but I bet if I spent just a little more time in her spiritual company, I'd find more to not just respect but absorb and let influence me. Same with Newman.

Well, I guess (today, it seems, is a day for guessing) I know what to do next. 

St. Benedict

my Contemplative Art post for 11th July 2026

St. Benedict

St. Benedict of Nursia (480-547) is the founder of the order named after him and is regarded as the father of Western Monasticism. He isn't someone just for monks and nuns, however. Benedict wrote a Rule that you and I can read and draw wisdom and inspiration from in our secular lives. 

In this painting, we see Benedict writing his Rule. But note that he is not looking at it. His eyes are turned to heaven. It's as if he is speaking to God; maybe he is asking the Father to show him what to write next.

That is as it should be. Sit (or stand) with Benedict for a moment and give thought to his prayerfulness, his humility, and wisdom, then, why not ask God the Father to help you write whatever needs to be written (literally or figuratively) in your life.

A Short Prayer

Dear Lord

I pray for the grace to pray,

the humility to listen,

the words to write

the story of my life in you.

St. Benedict may you intercede for me in this prayer.

Amen

11th July 2026

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All Saints Lutheran Church & School