Most of you were there when I backed up Justin Bridges' claim that Padre Jose is the most despicable character in The Power and the Glory. I figured that in this extra installment I would explain the position and why it is so important that we see the truth.
I have no respect, admiration, or pity for Padre Jose. He represents everything that is wrong with religion, everything that must change if a true, living presentation of the Gospel can be made. I want to call attention to the beetles, the vulture, and the rabid dog. All of these are symbols of decay and mixed with these symbols of decay are those of death, especially the death of children (seeming innocents). Greene portrays this province of Mexico as dead and decaying; what is not dead is only living off of the the dead. The land is in dire physical and spiritual straits.
During this time period there have no doubt been many martyrs, great men (and women) of faith he withstood this Marxist secularization of this area of Mexico. These martyrs died to protest the destruction of what is good, the living witness and power of the Church as it proclaims the Gospel. They are killed off and hunted to exinction except two people: the whiskey priest and Padre Jose.
The whiskey priest is not perfect but he is faithful and he is triumphant; ultimately having to depend entirely of the grace of God. Padre Jose however, "retires" from the priesthood, marries a woman, and settles down to a nice government pension. He compromises everything to be secure and comfortable. Now, one may want to feel sorry for Padre Jose, but this to me is impossible. His own ghosts haunt him because he knows that he is the one who really betrayed the faith. The whiskey priest has questionable habits, but Padre Jose has questionable character.
He won't do his duties but then he dares to want people to call him a priest. His "wife's" protest of his denial is absolutely spot on and telling. Padre Jose is not a priest, he something far less, he is a type of Judas the betrayer of Christ. He dutifully, apathetically watches as men and women are called for standing for the truth of the Gospel and lives in his comfortable home with his government stipend. He is no priest, he is letch, a leech, a disgusting tumor on the Church that rightly needs to be exposed and sliced off.
Greene is using this to comment on religion of his day. It had no power and no glory. It was comfortable, cute, and absolutely pathetic in its nature; it was harmless. Religion used to justify the status quo or tradition when it is clear that such things are helping society decay, is not religion but harsh, acidic embalming fluid. What good is it? Where is the power? Where is the glory? Where is the demonstration of truth and love? Where is the Church especially in a time where voices need to be heard on behalf of love and holiness? Where is the fruit of our professed beliefs, and if none is present, do we really believe at all?
Say what you want about the morality of the whiskey priest; he indeed was a bad man (but refer to my previous blog). However, Padre Jose is so disgustingly evil because of his clinging to tradition, titles, and an illusion of importance (even when such things have long since passed) and neglecting the very call of faith and demonstration God had placed on his life. I would rather be a morally depraved, yet consistently loving and selfless whiskey priest than to be a faithless, godless mongrel priest that does no one any good and brings disgrace upon the Gospel of Christ.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Bathsheba's Firstborn
Alright. So when talking about the whole relationship of the priest with his daughter and the mother, it kind of reminded me of David, Bathsheba, and their first child. It might be a stretch, and I don't think Greene really had the parallel in mind, but it's something to think about.
The priest had an illegitimate daughter, Brigitta, with Maria. David had an illegitimate child with Bathsheba. Here's where it gets a little interesting. In case you didn't know the story of David, he saw Bathsheba bathing, wanted her, slept with her, and had her would-be husband killed. She then got pregnant and had David's child. As a direct consequence of David's actions, that child died at seven days old. The parallel I guess I'm trying to make is this: just as David was punished with the physical death of his child, the priest was punished with what seems to be a spiritual death of his daughter, for she seems to be completely void of any want of spirituality or belief in God, but seems to be empty. For a king, who is high and mighty and strong, physical ailment or early death would be a disgrace, and so the child of the disobedient king was ill to death. For a priest, who is holy, ungodliness and spiritual emptiness would be the opposite, so the child of disobedient priest was without love and godliness.
The priest had an illegitimate daughter, Brigitta, with Maria. David had an illegitimate child with Bathsheba. Here's where it gets a little interesting. In case you didn't know the story of David, he saw Bathsheba bathing, wanted her, slept with her, and had her would-be husband killed. She then got pregnant and had David's child. As a direct consequence of David's actions, that child died at seven days old. The parallel I guess I'm trying to make is this: just as David was punished with the physical death of his child, the priest was punished with what seems to be a spiritual death of his daughter, for she seems to be completely void of any want of spirituality or belief in God, but seems to be empty. For a king, who is high and mighty and strong, physical ailment or early death would be a disgrace, and so the child of the disobedient king was ill to death. For a priest, who is holy, ungodliness and spiritual emptiness would be the opposite, so the child of disobedient priest was without love and godliness.
Greene on His "Priest"
This is an excerpt from Greene's book The Ways of Escape (pg. 65-68), telling about how he discovered his "whiskey priest" from The Power and the Glory.
So it was that the doctor put me on the track of Father Jose in my novel… "I asked about the priest in Chiapas who had fled. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘he was just what we call a whisky priest.’ He had taken one of his sons to be baptized, but the priest was drunk and would insist on naming the child Brigitta. ‘He was little loss, poor man.’"
(Speaking about reading The Power and the Glory) "As I read on I encounter more and more characters whom I have forgotten, who beckon to me from the pages and say ironically, "And did you really believe you had invented me?"
But I had always, even when I was a schoolboy, listened with impatience to the scandalous stories of tourists concerning the priests they had encountered in remote Latin villages (this priest had a mistress, another was constantly drunk), for I had been adequately taught in my Protestant history books what Catholics believed; I could distinguish even then between the man and his office. Now, many years later, as a Catholic in Mexico, I read and listened to stories of corruption which were said to have justified the persecution of the Church under Calles and under his successor and rival Cardenas, but I had also observed for myself how courage and the sense of responsibility had revived with persecution – I had seen the devotion of peasants praying in the priestless churches and I had attended Masses in upper rooms where the sanctus bell could not sound for fear of the police. I had not found the idealism or integrity of the lieutenant of The Power and the Glory among the police and pisteleros I had actually encountered – I had to invent him as a counter to the failed priest: the idealistic police officer who stifled life from the best possible motives: the drunken priest who continued to pass life on.
So it was that the doctor put me on the track of Father Jose in my novel… "I asked about the priest in Chiapas who had fled. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘he was just what we call a whisky priest.’ He had taken one of his sons to be baptized, but the priest was drunk and would insist on naming the child Brigitta. ‘He was little loss, poor man.’"
(Speaking about reading The Power and the Glory) "As I read on I encounter more and more characters whom I have forgotten, who beckon to me from the pages and say ironically, "And did you really believe you had invented me?"
But I had always, even when I was a schoolboy, listened with impatience to the scandalous stories of tourists concerning the priests they had encountered in remote Latin villages (this priest had a mistress, another was constantly drunk), for I had been adequately taught in my Protestant history books what Catholics believed; I could distinguish even then between the man and his office. Now, many years later, as a Catholic in Mexico, I read and listened to stories of corruption which were said to have justified the persecution of the Church under Calles and under his successor and rival Cardenas, but I had also observed for myself how courage and the sense of responsibility had revived with persecution – I had seen the devotion of peasants praying in the priestless churches and I had attended Masses in upper rooms where the sanctus bell could not sound for fear of the police. I had not found the idealism or integrity of the lieutenant of The Power and the Glory among the police and pisteleros I had actually encountered – I had to invent him as a counter to the failed priest: the idealistic police officer who stifled life from the best possible motives: the drunken priest who continued to pass life on.
An Unashamed Coward
'...To die in a state of mortal sin' - he gave an uneasy chuckle - 'it makes you think.'
'There. It is as I say. Believing in God makes cowards.' The voice was triumphant, as if it had proved something.
How many times have I heard words such as these before? "Your faith is just a crutch...God is something you depend on during hard times..." It is often these days that people such as I are ridiculed by society for believing in GOD. I see the traces of the same disparagement in Graham Greene. Throughout The Power and the Glory, there are beautifully powerful moments that follow the path of the whiskey priest. These glimpses are found hidden inside barns, sitting in the dirt, looking at a child's dead body, soaked by the downpour of the thunder storm, and beside a dying convict. One of the instances where his faith is exposed is in the darkness of the prison, surrounded by other offenders and awaiting death. A unseen man speaks to him in a voice of accusation, and in what would normally be the most miserable of moments, a light can be seen inside the heart of the priest.
'So then?' the priest said.
'Better not to believe - and be a brave man.'
'I see - yes. And of course if one believed the Governor did not exist or the jefe, if we could pretend that this prison was not a prision at all but a garden, how brave we could be then.'
'That's just foolishness.'
At a moment of despair and certain death, this failure of a priest defends the faith he still has in the depths of his heart, even though he himself sometimes doubts how true it is to him. He cannot explain why or even how he still believes in the GOD who has seemingly deserted him - and Whom he has deserted - but when challenged, he answers unashamedly.
While the priest is fallen and seemingly far from any measure of grace, there is something in him that shows true belief. It might be the broken prayers, the moments of compassion, the desperation for peace....it might be for the times like when he was called "foolish" in the prison.
"But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are." 1 Corinthians 1: 27-28
I cannot think of a literary character more pathetic, more foolish, more weak, base, and despised than the whiskey priest. He confounded me at every turn of the page. I wanted to hate him, judge him...but I couldn't. Somehow, in his broken, shameful state, the whiskey priest stood unashamed and usable by God. He was a coward in many ways, but so much more brave than Padre Jose. In the prison, his voice rings out:
"But when we found that the prison was a prison, and the Governor up there in the square undoubtedly existed, well, it wouldn't much matter if we'd been brave for an hour or two."
The whiskey priest confounds me. And I am far from wise...
*Quotes from p. 126 of The Power and the Glory
'There. It is as I say. Believing in God makes cowards.' The voice was triumphant, as if it had proved something.
How many times have I heard words such as these before? "Your faith is just a crutch...God is something you depend on during hard times..." It is often these days that people such as I are ridiculed by society for believing in GOD. I see the traces of the same disparagement in Graham Greene. Throughout The Power and the Glory, there are beautifully powerful moments that follow the path of the whiskey priest. These glimpses are found hidden inside barns, sitting in the dirt, looking at a child's dead body, soaked by the downpour of the thunder storm, and beside a dying convict. One of the instances where his faith is exposed is in the darkness of the prison, surrounded by other offenders and awaiting death. A unseen man speaks to him in a voice of accusation, and in what would normally be the most miserable of moments, a light can be seen inside the heart of the priest.
'So then?' the priest said.
'Better not to believe - and be a brave man.'
'I see - yes. And of course if one believed the Governor did not exist or the jefe, if we could pretend that this prison was not a prision at all but a garden, how brave we could be then.'
'That's just foolishness.'
At a moment of despair and certain death, this failure of a priest defends the faith he still has in the depths of his heart, even though he himself sometimes doubts how true it is to him. He cannot explain why or even how he still believes in the GOD who has seemingly deserted him - and Whom he has deserted - but when challenged, he answers unashamedly.
While the priest is fallen and seemingly far from any measure of grace, there is something in him that shows true belief. It might be the broken prayers, the moments of compassion, the desperation for peace....it might be for the times like when he was called "foolish" in the prison.
"But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are." 1 Corinthians 1: 27-28
I cannot think of a literary character more pathetic, more foolish, more weak, base, and despised than the whiskey priest. He confounded me at every turn of the page. I wanted to hate him, judge him...but I couldn't. Somehow, in his broken, shameful state, the whiskey priest stood unashamed and usable by God. He was a coward in many ways, but so much more brave than Padre Jose. In the prison, his voice rings out:
"But when we found that the prison was a prison, and the Governor up there in the square undoubtedly existed, well, it wouldn't much matter if we'd been brave for an hour or two."
The whiskey priest confounds me. And I am far from wise...
*Quotes from p. 126 of The Power and the Glory
Time: 100 Best English Novels from 1923-Present
http://www.time.com/time/2005/100books/0,24459,the_power_and_the_glory,00.html
In this articles Time Magazine reviews the book and counts it among the 100 Best English Novels from 1923-Present. That is a pretty prestigious list that includes Things Fall Apart and To Kill a Mockingbird.
In this articles Time Magazine reviews the book and counts it among the 100 Best English Novels from 1923-Present. That is a pretty prestigious list that includes Things Fall Apart and To Kill a Mockingbird.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
So, I should probably stop going on wikipedia, but they can tell you information that other sites might deem stupid. Anyway, I looked up The Power and the Glory, and it was adapted into a made-for-tv movie of sorts starring none other than Laurence Olivier as the priest. It does not specify which priest, but I bet it's the whisky one. That's too crazy to me.
Reluctance
Throughout the entire novel the Whiskey Priest is plagued with a sense of reluctance. I believe that reluctance defines his character. As he sits in the dentist's house, he is reluctant to drink. He holds the brandy as if it were a creature that could destroy him. Soon after he sips at the amber liquid a child comes to the door and demands that the Whiskey Priest help the child's mother. The priest states that there is nothing wrong with the boy's mother. He does not wish to leave and allow the boat to sail away. His reluctance is also seen as he wishes to leave the Fellow's barn. At this point in the story he is reluctant to stay! He is almost afraid of seeing his daughter. He is terrified to take the confessions of the people in the small village; he is even scared to sleep for fear that he might be caught. Even his donkey is reluctant. As they are headed toward Brigetta and home, the mule stops on the trail and refuses to move forward. The mule again stops as the Whiskey Priest is leaving his "family." This time it stops because of a snake that has trailed across the path. Could this be a foreshadowing of the danger that awaits up the road? The reluctance of the Whiskey Priest is mimicked by his mule.
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