I rarely say anything complimentary about Catholicism and like many of my generation I spent my childhood in fear of eternal punishment for even the most menial sins. Perhaps Catholic children no longer live in fear - I wouldn't know, because I rejected all forms of religion or religious belief at the age of thirteen and haven't formally attended mass or anything equivalent to it since. I do however occasionally visit St. Patrick's Cathedral and St. Francis Church (both Catholic) and St. Pauls Cathedral (Anglican) purely for the stunning architecture and glorious light that emanates through the stain-glass windows. Their lofty ceilings, spacious interiors and absolute quiet do give you a sense of peaceful serenity.
The one positive aspect I am left with from my catholic upbringing is the aura that surrounds Blessed Mary MacKillop, the catholic nun who, along with Father Woods began 'The Sisters of St. Joseph'. I was first introduced to the work and ideas of Blessed Mary MacKillop when I was one of a dozen girls chosen to attend the newly opened Mount St. Joseph Girls College in Altona West in 1964. As a Josephite college the students were encouraged to follow the example of the Blessed Mary MacKillop, who was a rebel and a saint. Even now, the school's website declares that they encourage their students to practice 'moral courage, responsibility and self discipline'. But it was Mary's utter defiance and insistence upon equality, rather than hierarchical organisations that appealed to me.
Mary MacKillop was born in Brunswick Street, Fitzroy in 1842. When she was 24 she took a vow of poverty and donned a simple brown habit. She worked tirelessly for marginalised groups (the poor, the homeless or the abused) by setting up schools and orphanages. Because her work did not fall under the control of the local Bishops she was excommunicated for so-called insubordination only three years after she began her order. Pope Leo XIII finally approved the order of the Sisters of St. Joseph in 1888, 22 years after it was initiated.
As I sit here writing this, I realise that I might have been a different person if I'd stayed at that school. But as it turned out my mother who had been absent in my life for eight years, suddenly appeared and I left the school and went to live with her. Instead of religion and the rather conservative home life that I spent with my grandmother, I was exposed to my mother's friends who were musicians, artists, writers, prostitutes, alcoholics and atheists. Instead of order, security and routine, there was disorder, insecurity and unpredictability.
It is a pity that the Church found the need to treat McKillop like a move star, complete with airbrushed and sexualized imagery, such as is found in magazines regularly denounced by feminists as "demeaning". Her presentation as a vamp, a goddess, rather than the stout old lady in a wheelchair she was to become in later life as a result of her many illnesses perhaps undermines the calls for 'moral courage, responsibility and self discipline' you mention.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI removed previous post because of an error. Here is the intended post.
ReplyDeleteYes, the photograph of MacKillop at 27 years old appears to be the one that is mostly used on internet sites about her. Unlike you, I don't perceive her as vampish or goddess-like, but she does have a rather determined look on her otherwise calm face. That may have simply reflected the ambition and strength she had for her cause. I think the fact that this photograph is used rather than ones taken in her wheelchair after she had a stroke, reflects a societal obsession with youth and beauty. But I certainly get your point - with everything that Princess Diana achieved prior to her untimely death, the media still mostly focussed primarily upon her fashion, beauty and body image.