Dear Entertainment Industry : A Few Tips on (Finally) getting your Priests and Religious Right

I've just finished a crime novel called The Good Priest (I am a crime fiction junkie, but I mostly do Old School, this recent one was an exception). The novel itself was alright, the crimes interesting, the writing fine, and the main character engaging.


You can't ask much more of most crime fiction.

However, when the priest ends the novel by saying that, really, contraception, gay rights and women priests are alright and would inevitably come, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

Here we go again.

Fair enough.

You see, no matter how hard they try to seem fair and broad-minded, most novelists, screenwriters or film directors get things fundamentally wrong when describing priests and religious.

I think this mostly stems from our current culture's utter illiteracy when it comes to religion and leading a religious life, but also because authors (screenwriters etc, you get my gist) all seem to suffer from either a complete lack of curiosity, or an assumption that they already know all they need to know, even if they're not religious themselves.

There is one glaring flaw in most of their depictions, which I will address later on, but let's look at Gillian Galbraith's Father Vincent's expostulation first (incidentally, I do not know anything about this author's religious life, I am merely using what she wrote as a symptom, not casting judgement on her views).

So, contraception, gay rights and women priests: it is quite possible that a priest would think that the Church is wrong in its teachings, it is quite possible he may discuss this with someone else privately. However, "gay rights" would probably not be the term used.

You see, the Church does not teach (I do say teach, the Church is made up of sinners, let us not forget) that gay people's rights should not be respected, or that they are in any way lesser than any other human being. When it comes to sex, the Church has a very clear definition of what is permissible, to anybody, regardless of inclinations. And that definition is not designed to exclude gay people in particular. In fact, it is probably irksome to most people in our secular Western World. To put it simply, sex is meant to be only permissible between a man and a woman who are married (in a lifelong union) and open to the creation of new life. 

So, yeah, the Church is picking on most everybody. Sorry Western World. (Not really sorry).

So the wording, not brilliant. 

There is also a frankly moronic expostulation on "the knuckle-bones of saints", as the clincher to the man's faith, which makes you wonder whether the man found himself accidentally at an ordination ceremony, because he clearly knows very little about the faith he dedicated his life to.

But let's move on. 

Whilst it is quite possible that a priest may think some of these things (in slightly better chosen words), it seems slightly unlikely that EVERY SINGLE priest who is also a nice human being will think these things. Yet to read/watch what the entertainment industry has to say, it would appear to be so.

Meanie.

The only reason why this is the case seems to me because people assume that anybody opposing gay marriage, woman priesthood and contraception has to be a meanie, because, you know, that's such a mean thing to think. And no-one actually bothers to look at the arguments of the opposing side, they just shout YOU'RE SO MEAN in a louder voice. This way certitudes are never challenged, and challenged certitudes are uncomfortable (I know, I've been there). 

However, to go against this, and present a positive, intelligent, educated, caring priest/nun who also thinks these MEAN (MEAN, MEAN, MEAN do not think further, it's just MEAN) things, would require undermining the narrative the media itself is battering us with in the first place. So it's pretty unlikely to happen, I grant you.

Super meanie.

So, making allowances for the media not shooting its own message in the foot, as I said before, there is still one very obvious, very gaping, very ridiculous omission in those depictions, even if you assume that every nice person in the Church is secretly riling against its MEAN teachings.

They don't pray.

Ever.

Case in point : Des Hommes et des Dieux (Of Gods and Men) is a French film which is picturing, in a very positive way, a group of French religious who were massacred in Algeria in 1996. The film depicts in particular their discussions as they try to decide whether they should stay in Algeria, despite the growing terrorist threat around them. 

They talk of many things, but never of the will of God.

So, these men, gave their lives to Christ, sacrificed all comforts in order to follow a calling to religious life, to a life of prayer to God.

Yet, when it comes to making such a momentous decision, NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM (as depicted in the film) seeks to discern God's will.

Nope.

Because, you know, they got there for the love of teachings, not through a personal relationship with a personal God.

I will say it once again, however, I don't think these authors (screenwriters etc) are trying to be dismissive. I think they genuinely have no idea. 

So, here collected in a handy list, are a few guidelines, for you, honest author who wants to depict a priest/nun/devout catholic appropriately:

• So, God is clearly quite important in these people's lives, or they wouldn't have got there in the first place, so GIVE GOD AN IMPORTANT PLACE IN THEIR LIVES.
• Don't make them be dismissive of the very thing they have dedicated their lives to. 
• Try and understand what discernment actually is.
• For God's sake, just put God in their lives.
• Don't forget God.
• God.

To help you further, dear honest screenwriter, here are two books that actually get it right. They are also incredibly engaging and not sycophantic about the Church. Just truthful. So go read them. And then try and do as well.

The Betrothed, by Alessandro Mazoni, and In This House of Brede, by Rumer Godden.

If you can think of any more, I would love to know!

*** Updated to include suggestions from Facebook and IRL. These works have been found to pass the Bechdel-like Test of : Are there positive religious characters? Do they accept the teachings of the Church? Do they pray? Do they have a relationship with God? ***

Sister Act - It's too long since I saw this one, so I can't remember, but Sheona has a fresher memory, so we're going to trust her.

Calvary - I haven't seen this one, so, trusting Emma.

The Power and the Glory - Of course, how could I forget?

Don Camillo - Or the proof that praying and having a relationship with God makes good, and very funny, telly.

Keep them coming!

A Reversion Story, Part 3 : And Holiness Was Found on Pinterest

Part 1 is here. And click here for Part 2.

So. When you left, Simon and I were getting married, he had joined the local church RCIA and I started planning the wedding. Which is when my sister-in-law advised me to try Pinterest.

So I did.

I found many things there, but after a while, I found them to be the same pins, put forward over and over again, so I ended up simply browsing. Which is how I ended up clicking on this: 

I really liked Haley's take on the matter, I thought her perspective was a great one. Her description of true love was enchanting, just as I was about to get married. So I started looking about on her blog, and discovered she was a Catholic. And actually living out her faith. Such strange ideas as Adoration, NFP, devotion to the saints or praying the rosary suddenly were explained and showed to be relevant to my life. Even more than that, they were exciting.

I was blown away.

I also wanted to start celebrating the liturgical year, straight away. 

Haley is also responsible for introducing me to GK Chesterton, and the whole world of the catholic blogosphere.

Now, as this is turning into a "river-novel" as we say in French, I will simply summarize. Through various blogs, I gradually came to know and read more about the teachings of the Church, the issues it faces, and the beauty it contains. I also finally came to trying to agree my lifestyle with my beliefs (that was a tough one - and, really, a forever work-in-progress - but I am very lucky that I have a now-husband-then-fiancé who is much better at these sort of things than I am - I'm all theory!).

So, rather than lose you in the minutiae of all these changes, I have compiled some resources that helped me on my way. 

So here goes:

Blogs 

(I follow many more, but these three were the outstanding ones when it came to understanding what living as a catholic actually looked like.)

Carrots for Michaelmas 

I already mentioned this one, obviously, but it is worth repeating! I particularly loved her series on NFP (I had never heard of it before, didn't even realize the Church opposed contraception) and her beautiful posts on women in the Church, especially her explanation of the place of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Considering my path to reversion, it was music to my ears!

Catholic All Year 

I love Kendra's approach to parenting, but she also has so many fantastic ideas on how to celebrate the liturgical year, I'm a tiny bit impatient for Jude to be old enough to try them out. It is almost impossible to choose, but I think my favourites are her ideas for Michaelmas, Our Lady of the Rosary and Pentecost. But I love them all, and this one and this one can get anyone started.  Also, her printables make a lovely addition to my little oratory.

Like Mother Like Daughter 

Leila has the advantage of hindsight, and as a result what she talks about sometimes seems way ahead of our situation in life, but it always thought-provoking. She (and her daughters) have some great ideas for the liturgical year too, but I think the best way to get a condensed idea of what the blog is like, is to read the book. (I know, it's cheating).

Books

I picked up this one at a catholic library in Paris, as part of an effort to try and understand the teachings of the Church. It is pretty heavy-going, but also divided in short chapters, allowing for lots of pondering time in-between (which is very necessary). I'm still suddenly reminded of a chapter every now and again, as it takes new and sudden meaning in my life.

This one was a wedding present. I don't want to go too much into NFP here (others have done it better), but this is the book that explained the Theology of the Body for me, and encouraged us along. 

Orthodoxy was the first Chesterton I read. I then went on a Chesterton-binge and loved it. Funnily enough, he is an author that one of my most aggressively secular friends enjoys as well, and it made for some interesting conversations.

St Thomas Aquinas, or how to finally dispel any misconception you might have about scholasticism. Obviously, Chesterton is a master, and this one does not disappoint. I did try to pray with St Thomas whilst I was a PhD student so that I would be more diligent, but his prayer before study was also great before reading the Bible (he probably soon saw that I was a hopeless case with the PhD). 

I took a while to read this one, mostly because of Catholic snobism, I am afraid, because I knew that C.S Lewis never converted. Some argue he would have, had he lived in our days, but I am not so sure. I'm with Tolkien on this one. I think he was too much of Ulster to consider Catholicism an option. 

Anyways, this is completely beside the point, because it does not impact in any way the justness of his analyses. I did get over myself eventually, then went on another binge. 

Haven't looked back since.

This one followed pretty quickly after Mere Christianity, and apart from the fact that it is very funny, it does make some startling points. My favourite being his remarks on prayer, especially "whatever their bodies do affect their souls". But there are so many more!

So, here goes. It feels very incomplete somehow, but this is the best story line I can muster for my reversion. But, story line is as accurate as I can get, because, in the words of my very favourite book, "you would have to feel with me, else you would never know". 

You totally get imaginary points if you know which book it is ;-) .

Why I Left Teaching

When I left teaching, I toyed with the idea of sending a letter to Michael Gove (then Education Secretary). In the end, the obvious futility of the endeavour stopped me. But I rant about education so often, I figured I should probably make it into a post, and give people a chance to rant back.


I think my experience was relatively typical. I worked in a good school, with lovely staff, where people were, for the most part, very supportive of each other. 

And yet...

Test early and often

I won't go into the recent(ish) proposal to start testing kids at the age of 4. FOUR! I think it speaks for itself.

The buzzwords behind constant testing run something like "monitoring progress" or "assess achievement", or "troubleshoot early" or whichever sanitized bit of doublespeak you prefer. The problem is, it leaves no time for teaching.

At least Gradgrind was teaching facts. We're teaching tests.

You think I am exaggerating?

Here is a typical y7 (age 11-12) first term of French at my old school - note that we are still 5 years away from official formal testing - : out of a 12 week term, you take off at least two whole weeks for assessments, one week for end-of-term activities and three weeks to revise, engineer, and in the end copy and learn by heart the assessment itself (because that's what the GCSE is like). So, actual weeks left of teaching actual French words and actual grammar points to actually be able to form actual sentences and actually speak the language? 6. 

They spend half the year on the tests. 

And it shows in their attitude.

When I taught the polite "usted" to Y7 Spanish classes, I generally found a way to come to explain about Juan Carlos II, the dictatorship and the extraordinary recent history of Spain (which is quite important, if you take an interest in the country). Once, a boy, who was generally a keen student, interrupted me saying "What does this have to do with the test?" I told him his outlook on life was sad. But I believe we are making it so.

But why do we spend so long preparing the tests you ask? Why not let the kids just do it, like in the olden days? 

Because everybody needs the kids to succeed. We cannot afford to leave it to chance or the even less reliable work ethic of a pre-teen.

Make everybody have a vested interest in the kids' grades

The problem with this one, is that on paper, it sounds like a good thing. If everybody has (monetary, but not only) incentives to make the kids succeed, that's a great thing! Right!?

Depends what you think education is for. 

Because if we just want kids to all have the qualification at the end, we can just give it to them  at the start without tormenting anybody in the meantime. 

Here you go, Trevor. Well done for existing.

If teachers, schools and exam boards (yup, exam boards as well make their money out of kids getting good grades) all need the children to get a pass in order to get a rise or not be fired, no-one is left who actually needs them to have the knowledge which we are testing them for.

There is no independent party who can fail students without it having a direct impact on their pay or job chances.

And if students can't fail, well, no-one can actually succeed. If everybody gets a GCSE, not only is the GCSE meaningless in itself, but its contents are also gradually de-valued.

GCSEs were meant to represent the learning you had achieved : i.e, you know so much in maths, therefore you get a GCSE in maths. But if everybody needs you to get that GCSE, two things will happen : first, your teacher will teach you only what can be on the test, and spend a lot of time training you in test-taking (half the year, remember? And it gets worse as they get older), second, the exam board will gradually make it easier and easier for you to pass, because they get their money from schools choosing them, and schools need to choose exam boards than can guarantee good grades.

So you are left with test-math only, and as easy a type of test-math as the exam board can get away with.

The only thing suffering in this beautiful bouquet of joint interests, is education.

Destroy the teaching of grammar

Funny stories: 

1: When I was a trainee, I sat in on a class where the lesson was on time phrases. So the teacher wrote on the board:

On Monday's
On Tuesday's
On Wednesday's
On Thursday's
On Friday's
On Saturday's
On Sunday's

And thought nothing of it.

2: I was chatting with other teachers, all native speakers, wondering how to remember when to use practise or practice. I offered: "It's simple, the first one's a verb, the second's a noun."

That was helpful to exactly nobody.

Roughly what I sounded like to them.

And these are educated, conscientious people. With no understanding of grammar. 

Now grammar is essential when you learn a foreign language. Babies learning without it simply learn by heart sentence after sentence, trying them out in different situations, whilst parents correct the mistakes as they arise. That is an extremely time-consuming way of learning a language. No school can afford that much time given up to  foreign languages. So you HAVE to use grammar.

But we don't. We don't have the time, because the task is enormous, as very little has been done (or processed) in primary school, and because tests.

So we take the worst of both worlds: we teach foreign languages by giving students sentence after sentence illustrating the grammar points we are trying to make. As the test only requires them to learn the sentences by heart, they promptly forget the grammar. And after 5 years and a French GCSE, they can't create a single original sentence on their own in French.

Invent moronic ways of testing

Which leads me to the moronic (sorry, but that is the appropriate term) way in which these all-consuming tests are created.

So, how do you test the French of pupils without making sure they can construct a sentence? (Because that'd be hard and the grades would go down at first.)

Old-fashioned test. They didn't know any better.

Easy: you make them learn by heart 200 words they do not understand, and tadaaa! it sounds like they can speak French. 

Unfortunately, as they do not understand grammar, they put these 200 words together by collating the examples you gave them as you tried to teach them the grammar. The teacher knows they are going to do that, and also knows that s/he NEEDS them to get a good grade. So s/he will engineer the examples so that put together, they form a coherent whole.

And the pupils often have absolutely no idea what they are reciting.

Which is incredibly hard. You try learning by heart 200 sounds that don't make any sense! It's tricky. And it doesn't teach you how to speak French. So it is an entirely pointless and extremely difficult exercise. 

And the students are aware of that, so they hate languages, fail to communicate with other Europeans, and fester in the misunderstandings.

Teachers are also aware of that. But it appears their opinion doesn't matter much to test-makers.

I know less about other subjects, but judging by the history students I taught at university and their obsession with bias which left no place for actual knowledge of facts or actual understanding of historical documents, I would say it's probably just as moronic.

Pressure teachers till there's none left

This is the original letter I wrote at the time of my leaving. If you can feel the exhaustion in it, I will have done what I can.

Exhausted. Funny story: neither of us is a teacher there anymore.

Dear Mr Gove,

I am addressing you today because I am about to leave teaching.

I went into the profession with a lot of ideals, a lot of energy, and very little worry about career and money. I wanted to make a difference, this much-snorted at concept. And yet I am leaving. I still think that forming young minds is an amazing thing to be doing, and rapport with pupils is most of the times something extremely rewarding. I loved my job, and yet I am leaving. I am leaving because, no matter how rewarding the job can be, it is not worth it.

In my first year of teaching, I was made to feel incompetent by a parent who was willing to give up half an hour of her time (and mine) to call me, shout at me, then methodically demonstrate to me how I had ruined her daughter’s life.

My fault on this occasion, Mr Gove, was that I had not set homework properly.

You can try and write me off as a truly incompetent teacher as this point if it helps you vindicate your vision of education. The truth is I am not. I am valued, I have an impact on children, I know I inspire them. And yet I am leaving, at the end of this school year. Because the type of vexations I have just described is symptomatic. It did not on its own make me change my career plans, but it is a perfect example of what it feels like to be a teacher today. 

We are expected to be flawless robots, who tick every box it pleases the government to create. Yet we are still supposed to challenge pupils. We have to communicate with parents, fill in data sheets, reports, questionnaires, or any piece of paper-work, yet still innovate and inspire, yet still monitor children's health and well-being, yet still plan lessons in details, and mark their work constantly and positively. 

Did anyone ever pause to calculate exactly how long all this takes? Time 300 pupils?

We are supposed to face challenges, misbehaviours, open criticism, mockery and spite from parents, pupils and journalists and somehow keep ourselves going even if it is at our expense, even if it is at the expense of our families and our own children.

I understand why you would want such teachers, but I personally don’t feel equal to the task. Because in the current state of things, being a teacher is a thankless exhausting task, which does not create any form of recognition from parents, the public or our government.

That is why I am leaving.

Good luck to my fellow teachers, I admire you immensely. 

So that's where education's arrived. I don't know about you, but I am not very keen on it. 

Feel free to disagree or cheer in the comments.