Powered By Blogger

Monday 26 September 2016

Fr. Cleevely's Remarkable Funeral Homily

Following is a remarkable homily preached by Fr. Philip Cleevely, C.O. at the Funeral Mass for John Bentley Mays on Saturday, September 24 at the Parish of St. Thomas More OCSP.

Christianity, G. K. Chesterton said, is the only religion in which God Himself appears as an atheist. Chesterton is speaking of the Cross, and is considering the words of the Incarnate Son to His Father: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? This isn’t mere appearance, a kind of disguise, but the decisive time of revelation, of Divine Self-disclosure, the consummation of God-in-the-world. And there, or rather here, in the time and place of the Cross, God appears as an atheist: God forsaken by God, Love unloved even by Love. 

It is God Who opens out the distance between Father and Son across which this forsakenness is sustained. The Son dwells among us to be with us at the very limit of where we can find ourselves, the end-point which fulfills our dread, and our desire, of being without God. In traversing that distance, the Incarnate Son does not cease to be God; and so the distance He travels is measured by God’s capacity to separate from Himself, to be beyond Himself for the sake of what is other than Himself. In other words, the distance is measured by Love.   

Within that distance, our world takes place. Each of us lives and dies somewhere within the distance that separates the Son from the Father on Good Friday. Everything unfolds within God’s being  outside of Himself: all that draws, delights and compels us, everything which frightens and disgusts us; the good and the harm that we do, our monumental indifference, and the more or less settled places and patterns of our lives. The distance of the Son from the Father knows all this, embraces it, holds it and exceeds it. And so we can never be without God, in exhilaration or in sorrow, in darkness or in rebellion, more radically than God Himself has been. This and this alone makes redemption possible: God Himself sheltering and surpassing the extremity of our losses. The distance opened out on the Cross is always before and ahead of us, wherever we put ourselves or find ourselves. The Cross, the atheism of God, is the sign, and the price, of His unreserved solidarity with us. But ‘solidarity’ is a clumsy, indiscriminate term. We would be better off thinking of a lover’s visitation, paid to an uncomprehending beloved. 

And indeed how else could God show Himself, how else could Love speak, than by this unreserved visitation to the loveless?

To be touched, however glancingly, by the singular, seemingly impossible beauty of that visitation is to have been touched by God. It is an awakening and generative touch: slowly, so unsurely, we are brought to fall in love with Love, and with Love alone: to want, in spite of ourselves, to become what He is and to do what He does. God Himself originates eternally in the power of Love to generate: and what Love generates is not fulfillment for itself, but its likeness in another. And so we find God, and therefore ourselves - a finding which is perhaps never fully conscious, never fully realized - only by entering into Love’s likeness, which is to say, for us, only on the way of the Cross.

The way of the Cross is a secret way, hidden from public approbation, and very often from the grasp even of those who travel it. On this way, one draws nearer to God than one can ever know. In the atmosphere of the culture wars, some believers spend time and energy regretting and contesting their all too evident loss of public prestige, the erosion of the social and cultural credentials of their Christian faith. But rather than styling ourselves through regret and contestation, we can receive modernity’s ambivalence as a corrective, an opportunity, even as a kind of gift. For God and ourselves can be found there too, even in the social and cultural orders we too easily characterize as post-Christian.  

For after all what validation do we seek, in mourning the now deconstructed architecture of the so-called ages of faith? Didn’t the past in fact conceal an evasion, even an idolatry, no less potent than what faces and inhabits us today? How easily the truth of God was interpreted in terms of a lavish but also essentially secular iconography, a concentration upon sovereign power in which the way of the Cross is sublimated, made visible only as the emblem of a victory already adequately reflected in the social order. 

But no social order, not even the Church, can adequately reflect the Cross. The victory that the Cross makes possible is never present and possessed, but is encoded within an always renewed experience of destitution and defeat, of waiting and of being led, of anticipation and of hope. The way of the Cross, in other words, ought to render inescapable for us the mystery of God manifesting Himself in human weakness and limitation. And here ‘in’ means within. God does not exert Himself against human weakness, least of all by showing up the weakness of those around us whom we might be tempted to style as enemies. He manifests Himself not by disclosing and subjugating the weakness of the excommunicated other, but by inhabiting our weakness, our limits, if only we resolve not to flee from them: or, more realistically, once we are rendered incapable of fleeing them. Only then does the unsayable intimacy of the Divine with the human unfold. If we try, nonetheless, to say it, we will find ourselves speaking of the endurance of the unendurable. 

The unendurable can be nailed to us as if from the inside, in the afflictions played out within our minds and our bodies; it can seem to transfix us from without, in the simple consciousness of the burdens borne by others - even one other will do, once we begin to see truthfully, let alone the uncontainable burden of the sufferings and sins of the world. None of these is endurable - and so the alternatives can seem, in the end, to be either to hide from them or to succumb. 

But on the way of the Cross we can be given, and can be taught to live from within, an unforeseeable substitution for our incapacity. We will come to be aware of ourselves, simultaneously, as helpless and as being sustained. A language is forged in which God is at last able to speak with us, a language raised up (as the Cross is raised up) from within the unendurable, an exchange between God and ourselves that cannot be objectified and transcribed but only enacted

God’s visitation can seem, sometimes, as if it might as well mean unbelief, in as much as we are capable of laying hold of and inspecting it as a kind of talisman. And yet, in this very destitution, we can be led to acknowledge that what is real is indeed here, in the mystery of Love’s visitation, and not in things considered as objects to be known and used, of which the business of love could only ever be a decorative afterthought, bestowed or withheld as may be. 

We can be led to acknowledge, in other words, that what is real is Love alone. Only the Cross reads the world, only the Cross reads our lives. 

In an essay completed a few months before his death, John wrote of what he called the void - not just neutral emptiness, on the one hand, or an abyss of negativity, on the other, but instead an in-between state, a waiting condition, without finality, coming into view as a space of impermanence, a clearing attuned to receive and to host the shifting vulnerabilities and joys of living. 

In this characterization of the void he was chiefly considering architecture, but characteristically he was also thinking spiritually and theologically. I would like to think that we have, in John’s late consideration of the void, a metaphor for grace - for what I have been calling our visitation by Love. We cannot master the world or ourselves, but must be prepared to become a kind of emptiness, spaces of attentive waiting to receive what we need, and of yielding to what is asked of us, and in all the turns of happiness and vulnerability finding ourselves sustained and spoken to. 


We can ask that this applies to us, here today, as each of us, in his or her own way, tries, impossibly, to weigh what we have lost. And we must ask that it applies to John too, in death as it did in life. And the grounds of our confidence in asking these things, for John and for ourselves, could not be greater. For although an unthinkable distance now separates us, it is, even so, a distance contained between the Father and the Son on the Cross. In the Cross, Love has already given everything; and what Love gives, in time and in eternity, it never takes back.

Lectures by Michael D. O'Brien in memory of John Bentley Mays

MERCY IN THE CITY
In loving memory of John Bentley Mays
John Bentley Mays

Two lectures are to be offered by the noted artist and writer
Michael O'Brien on the theme of Mercy, reflections for the Jubilee
Year of Mercy.  The event is sponsored by Regis College and
the Catholic Parish of St. Thomas More, OCSP.

Michael D. O'Brien 
Thursday, November 17
Regis College, Queens Park Circle
7:00 p.m. Talk by Michael O’Brien
“The Vocation of a Christian Artist”
A mini art exhibit may be viewed before and after.

Friday, November 18
St. Thomas More / St Vincent de Paul
263 Roncesvalles, Toronto
 6:00 - 7:00 Holy Hour 
7:00 p.m.   Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament 
7:30 p.m.  Talk by Michael O'Brien
“Living Mercy in the City”
  
John Mays had been instrumental in initiating this project and so
it is fitting that the event be dedicated in his memory.

Free registration online at: http://regiscollege.ca/events/michaelobrien

Born in Ottawa in 1948, Michael O’Brien is the author of twenty-eight books, notably the novel Father Elijah and eleven other novels, which have been published in fourteen languages and widely reviewed in both secular and religious media in North America and Europe.

His essays on faith and culture have appeared in international journals such as Communio, Catholic World Report, Catholic Dossier, Inside the Vatican, The Chesterton Review and others. For seven years he was the editor of the Catholic family magazine, Nazareth Journal.

He has given hundreds of public talks and lectures at universities and churches throughout Europe and North America, and has frequently appeared as a guest on television programs in several nations.

Since 1970 he has also worked as a professional artist and has had more than 40 exhibits across North America. Since 1976 he has painted religious imagery exclusively, a field that ranges from liturgical commissions to visual reflections on the meaning of the human person. His paintings hang in churches, monasteries, universities, community collections and private collections throughout the world.

Michael O’Brien lives near Combermere, Ontario. He and his wife Sheila have six children and nine grandchildren.

Patronal for our sister parish in Toronto -- Tuesday, Sept. 27 - 8:00 p.m.

Join us Tuesday at 8:00 p.m. (Sept. 27) as we celebrate the patronal feast of our (elder) sister parish ST. VINCENT DE PAUL with Sung Mass at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul, 263 Roncesvalles.

R.I.P. John Bentley Mays

 John Bentley Mays, a parishioner of St. Thomas More and member of the Ordinariate of the Chair of St Peter died peacefully on Sept. 16 in Toronto, at the age of 75.  He was an influential art critic and best-selling author who wrote on matters of faith, art and culture.  

John's insightful writing appeared in the Globe and MailCanadian Art, The Catholic Register and the National Post, among numerous other national publications.
John  had a Faulknerian upbringing. According to his biography, he was born in 1941 “into an old family of cotton planters, small-town merchants and local politicians in the American South.” He came to Canada in 1969 and not long after resolved to become a writer. By 1980, he was the Globe and Mail‘s art critic – a post he held until 1998.

He was also known for writing bravely and eloquently about his own life, in books such as In the Jaws of the Black Dogs: A Memoir of Depression, and Power in the Blood, in which he tracks his family history through travels to Virginia, South Carolina, and Louisiana. Both were national best-sellers.

Later in his career he turned his attention to architecture and urbanism to which he brought clarity and accessibility. His book Emerald City Toronto Visited (1995) – about the development and history of Toronto’s network of neighbourhoods and its slow progress toward an international city – is still required reading for anyone interested in Toronto’s urban planning history.
John thought much of the Art Gallery of Ontario addition by Frank Gehry: “Gehry’s electric-blue design stands in friendly combat with the soaring table-top, next door, of the Ontario College of Art and Design by British architect Will Alsop, and, with its windows open to the city, it encourages viewers to recall contemporary art’s vital and ongoing relationship with contemporary metropolitan culture, its social problematics, conflicts and opportunities.”
Ardently pro-life and an Anglican who had entered into the full communion of the Catholic Church,  John described his conversion following a mystical experience at Lourdes (where he had never thought he would be in any way moved artistically or spiritually).  He wrote beautifully, thoughtfully and authoritatively on faith, culture, family and mercy. 
John's Funeral Mass according to Divine Worship: The Missal (Ordinariate rite) was celebrated by the Catholic Parish of St Thomas More, 263 Roncesvalles Ave., Saturday, September 24.

In John's memory, "Mercy in the City" -- two lectures by the noted Catholic artist and author Michael O'Brien will be given at Regis College, Queen's Park Circle and at STM, 263 Roncesvalles Ave. TORONTO, on November 17 and 18.  Check this site for details.

Tuesday 13 September 2016

Pope Francis will celebrate Mass for the repose of the soul of Fr Jacques Hamel, the French priest killed by two Islamist terrorists in July.


Pope Francis plans to  celebrate Mass for the 85-year-old French priest was killed by two Islamists while celebrating Mass. The murder took place on July 26 in the church of Saint-Etienne-du-Rouvray as Fr Hamel, 85, was celebrating Mass.
According to Rome Reports, the Mass for Fr Hamel will be held on the morning of September 14 at 7am, in the chapel of Casa Santa Marta, the Pope’s residence.
The bishop and 80 pilgrims from the Diocese of Rouen, where Fr Hamel lived and worked, will be in attendance.

Christoph Schönborn's Warning

Viennese Cardinal Christoph Schönborn warned recently at a Mass for the Feast of the Holy Name of Mary that "Europe is well on the way to forfeiting its Christian heritage".

"Will there be an Islamic conquest of Europe? Many Muslims want that and say: Europe is at the end," he said during the Mass in St. Stephen's Cathedral during a celebration for the Feast of the "Holy Name of Mary."

This feast was introduced in gratitude for the liberation of Vienna from Ottoman Muslim forces which were attacking Europe 333 years ago.


"God have mercy on Europe and with thy people, who are in danger of forfeiting our Christian heritage," Schoenborn said in his homily, according to the website of the Archdiocese of Vienna. This loss could be felt, "not only economically, but above all, in human and religious terms," preached the cardinal.

Christoph Schönborn's Warning

Viennese Cardinal Christoph Schönborn warned this week at a Mass for the Feast of the Holy Name of Mary that "Europe is well on the way to forfeiting its Christian heritage". 

"Will there be an Islamic conquest of Europe? Many Muslims want that and say: Europe is at the end," he said during the Mass in St. Stephen's Cathedral during a celebration for the Feast of the "Holy Name of Mary." 

This feast was introduced in gratitude for the liberation of Vienna from Ottoman Muslim forces which were attacking Europe 333 years ago. 

"God have mercy on Europe and with thy people, who are in danger of forfeiting our Christian heritage," Schoenborn said in his homily, according to the website of the Archdiocese of Vienna. This loss could be felt, "not only economically, but above all, in human and religious terms," preached the cardinal.

Saturday 10 September 2016

The inimitable Fr. Hunwicke on his always enlightening blog " Mutual Enrichment" offers some very useful thoughts for those who ask about the limits and the possibilities of bible study and textual criticism.  Alluding to he Last Gospel which may be the most studied and read passage in the bible, he says:

"Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the Flesh, nor of the will of Man, but of God. 

So the Johannine prologue, the Christmas Gospel in the Missa in Die, the wonderful pericope which we read day after day at the end of Mass, describes those who have 'received' Him. By Baptism, we have that New Birth which is of God and not of human begetting.

But there is a very early variant reading in some witnesses to the text of S John: Who was born .... In other words, the sentence is made to refer to the Lord Himself and to His Virginal Conception. It fits rather well, doesn't it?


The scholarly consensus has always been that the text as usually translated is the correct one. Frankly, I've never been completely sure about that. (My old mentor in the science art of Textual Criticism, the immortal Professor G D Kilpatrick, was once prepared to accept the reading of a single Armenian ms contra mundum, so determined was his 'eclecticism'.) 


The old 'Westcott and Hort' Victorian certainty, the superstition of 'the best manuscript' -  the idea that if only we had sufficient evidence ('O God, please give us some fantastic First Century Papyri!') we would be able to reconstruct the authorial original that came hot from the pen of S John -  represents an attitude to Textual Criticism which among Classicists has either been abandoned or qualified.

But, assuming that the Textus Receptus is indeed to be followed, it nevertheless remains true that S John is here deftly alluding to the Lord's Virginal Conception; and that the Fathers and scribes who produced the variant reading accurately picked up and made explicit an implication which the Evangelist intended to be perceived. He is saying 'Nudge nudge, of course we know that the Lord was born of a Virgin; but I want you to realise that your own New Birth, in Him, is just as Virginal as his temporal Conception'. 


That's the sort of way the Fourth Evangelist works. (He doesn't, for example, describe the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper, but he does give us his Chapter 6.) Could the Disciplina arcani have something to do with this? We remember the words of S Ignatius of Antioch that the Virginity of Mary and her Childbearing and the Death of the Lord  were Three Mysteries of a Cry [krauges] which were hidden from the Devil, wrought in the stillness of God (Ad Ephesios XIX 1 et vide egennethe in v. sup.).

Incorporated into Him, we are made sharers in His Divine, unfleshly, Birth "from above" (gennethentes anothen), just as we also share His Death and His Resurrection.

So we are Sons of the Father, Corde nati ex Parentis, and Enfants de Marie, just as the Lord himself was."

An opportunity for men to reflect this Fall


Wednesday 7 September 2016

A Very Warm Welcome at St. Vincent de Paul


The Fathers of the Oratory kindly arranged for the new sign for STM and an icon of St. Thomas More which is placed at the entrance with votive candles.  After a welcome from Fr. Daniel Utrecht, the Pastor of SVDP, the icon was formally blessed.



Monday 5 September 2016

St. Teresa of Calcutta and her detractors

William Doino Jr. offers a powerful defense of the newly proclaimed St. Teresa of Calcutta while pricking the balloons of critics like Coren and Hitchens by giving facts instead of opinions. The following is excerpted from FIRST THINGS:
. . . As with all models of beauty in life, however, there are cynics who have tried to tar Mother Teresa. In the 1990s . . . .the late Christopher Hitchens launched an aggressive attack on Mother with a documentary and book aimed to inflame:  Hell’s Angel and  The Missionary Position. These polemics didn’t reflect the truth, but did manage to fool a number of people.
The remarkable thing about  Hell’s Angel is that it purports to defend the poor against Mother Teresa’s supposed exploitation of them, while never actually interviewing any on screen. Not a single person cared for by the Missionaries speaks on camera. Was this because they had a far higher opinion of Blessed Teresa than Hitchens would permit in his film? 
Avoiding the people at the heart of Teresa’s ministry, Hitchens posed for the camera and let roll a series of  ad hominem attacks and unsubstantiated accusations, as uninformed as they were cruel. He called Muggeridge—one of the most acclaimed journalists of the twentieth century—an “old fraud and mountebank,” mocked his belief in the supernatural, and even referred to Mother Teresa as a “presumable virgin.”  
. . . Hitchens expressed shock that Teresa encouraged victims to forgive those who harmed them, causing many to wonder whether he was aware of the basic tenets of Christianity. 
The height of absurdity came when Hitchens assailed Mother Teresa for allegedly giving her heart to greater Albania, “a cause that was once smiled upon by Pope Pius IX and his friend Benito Mussolini.” It would have been hard for Pius IX to have been friends with Benito Mussolini, given that Pius died in 1878, and Mussolini was not born until 1883, but why should Hitchens be concerned about historical facts, when he was having such fun making them up? 
Despite this effort to diminish Mother Teresa’s reputation, it stands as high as ever, fifteen years after her passing. Her order and affiliates continue to expand. By 2010, notes biographer Kathryn Spink, there were over five thousand Missionary of Charity sisters, serving in 766 houses in 137 countries, and another 377 active brothers serving in sixty-eight houses in twenty-one countries. The Lay Missionaries of Charity, now twenty-five years old, are also growing, operating in fifty countries. 
The expansion of her order speaks volumes about its integrity and effectiveness, but the support and admiration it has received has proven too much for some. On March 1, three Canadian academics—Serge Larivee, Genevieve Chenard, and Carole Senechal—released a report on Mother Teresa, renewing the criticism. A  press release, darkly entitled “Mother Teresa: Anything but a Saint,” read: 
 In their article, Serge Larivee and his colleagues . . . cite a number of problems not taken into account by the Vatican in Mother Teresa’s beatification process, such as her “rather dubious way of caring for the sick, her questionable political contacts, her suspicious management of the enormous sums of money she received, and her overly dogmatic views regarding, in particular, abortion, contraception and divorce.” 
That was not all. The researchers accused Mother Teresa of running facilities with inadequate medical care while receiving quality medical care herself, said she was more in love with poverty than helping the poor, and implied she was psychologically unstable because she suffered through bouts of doubt. For good measure, they attacked the miracle that the Church has attributed to her intervention. 
After studying their report—twenty-seven pages in French—I sought out people who had known Mother Teresa, or been involved with her cause to inquire about its charges. Every single one of them told me that the Mother Teresa presented by the Canadian researchers was unrecognizable from the one they encountered, and to prove it, provided point by point rebuttals to their accusations. 
Fr. Peter Gumpel, an official at the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, told me that far from overlooking criticism of Mother Teresa, the allegations were taken quite seriously, and answered: 
 There are mistakes made in even the most modern medical facilities, but whenever a correction was needed, Mother and the Missionaries showed themselves alert and open to constructive change and improvement. What many do not understand is the desperate conditions Mother Teresa constantly faced, and that her special charism was not to found or run hospitals—the Church has many who do that—but to rescue those who were given no chance of surviving, and otherwise would have died on the street. 
But it is “absolutely false,” he stressed, to claim that she rejected or neglected available medical care for those still treatable, or good palliative care for the terminally ill. “Beware of anecdotal stories circulating from disgruntled people or those with an anti-Catholic agenda,” he warned. 
Charges of financial impropriety are equally unfounded; in fact, Blessed Teresa helped raise, and spent, “enormous sums of money” on the poor, and she donated funds to the Holy See, which in turn distributed them to Catholic hospitals and other good works. Utterly bizarre was the researchers’ charge that the Vatican officials did not adequately consider her firm stands against abortion, contraception, and divorce:  of course they did—and her orthodoxy was “one of the many assets in her favor.” 
Commenting about the doubts Mother Teresa experienced, Gumpel asked, “Do not these researchers understand that periods of doubt, and even severe trials of faith, have affected some of the Church’s greatest saints—St. John of the Cross, Therese of Lisieux—and that persevering and overcoming them is considered one of the signs of sanctity?” 
As for the miracle attributed to Blessed Teresa, “There are always skeptics who question every Vatican-approved miracle, and accuse the Church of manipulating the evidence, but the Congregation’s medical board has very vigorous examination procedures, and stands by its decisions.” Against the skeptics, no fewer than five doctors declared there was “no medical explanation ” of the healing attributed to Mother Teresa. 
Fr. Leo Maasburg, an Austrian priest who was Mother Teresa’s close personal friend and spiritual advisor and the author of a  moving portrait of her, told me that the idea that Blessed Teresa loved poverty rather than poor people was “a diabolical twisting” of her actual beliefs, which were “to help the poor and suffering to the utmost.” Despite her travels (undertaken purely to spread her charitable activities), Mother Teresa lived an extremely modest life in Calcutta, and Fr. Maasburg was emphatic that she never asked for special favors or medical care—a fact since  confirmed by others close to her, including  the physicians who treated her during her final illness. 
Fr. Maasburg also stressed that Blessed Teresa was the first to acknowledge her imperfections, and would constantly teach those around her: “If someone criticizes you, first ask yourself, is it right? If he is right, apologize and change, and the issue is resolved. If he is not right, clarify and correct, but if that does not work, take up the unjust accusations with both hands and offer it to Jesus in union with his suffering, because he was slandered by all sides.” 
The most powerful witness I spoke to was Susan Conroy, who worked with Mother Teresa in Calcutta—traveling there as a twenty-one-year-old volunteer in 1986. She knew Mother for the last decade of her life, and wrote  Mother Teresa’s Lessons of Love and Secrets of Sanctity.  She speaks about Blessed Teresa  often. She read the report by the Canadian academics in its original French, and reacted with sadness, offering this first-hand testimonial in response: 
 When I read the criticisms of how the patients were cared for in the Home for the Dying, I kept thinking back to my personal experiences there . . . . I know how tenderly and carefully we tended to each of the destitute patients there—how we bathed them, and washed their beds, and fed them and gave them medicine. I know how the entire shelter was thoroughly and regularly cleaned from top to bottom, and each patient was bathed as often as necessary, even if it was multiple times a day . . . . 

They were considered “untouchables” of society, and yet there we were touching and caring for them as if they were royalty. We truly felt honored to serve them as best we could. Mother Teresa had taught us to care for each one with all the humility, respect, tenderness and love with which we would touch and serve Jesus Christ Himself—reminding us that “whatsoever we do to the least of our brothers,” we do unto Him. 
After hearing from these supporters, I requested interviews with the researchers, and finally obtained one with Dr. Chenard. Her answers to my series of questions were both astonishing and revealing: She confirmed for me that her academic team did not speak to a single patient, medical analyst, associate, or worker of Mother Teresa’s before writing their paper against her; nor did they examine how all her finances were spent; nor did they speak with anyone at the Vatican involved with her sainthood cause, or consult the Vatican’s medical board which certified the miracle attributed to Blessed Teresa. The researchers had not even traveled to Calcutta, whereas even Hitchens, misguided as he was, at least did that. 
As it turned out, this “research paper” was nothing but a “review of literature,” a repacking of what others had already written, with the academics putting their own negative spin on it. In other words, an indictment based upon no original research, and the author most frequently cited? Christopher Hitchens. Yet these “findings” made international headlines, and were repeated by many without objection. 
Sanctity cannot be fabricated, and true holiness often invites worldly ridicule, as Our Lord foretold. But Blessed Mother Teresa’s radiant witness will survive as long as truth and tenderness survive in the human heart—which, God willing, will be until the end of time. 
William Doino Jr.  writes often about religion, history and politics. He contributed an extensive bibliography of works on Pius XII to  The Pius War: Responses to the Critics of Pius XII .