[This introductory post was written before I had become a Catholic.]

A blog entitled "Canterbury Tales" wouldn't be worth its salt without a post about St Thomas of Becket on this his feast day (Dec 29). As you remember, St Thomas was murdered inside the Cathedral by knights 'under the influence' of King Henry II.

St Thomas Archbishop of Canterbury met his end because he upheld the rights and privileges of the Pope in Rome against those of the English crown. Becket is the icon of ecclesiastical resistance against anti-papal English nationalism.

In a certain sense, this blog is dedicated to the tension and confusion surrounding the loaded meaning of "Canterbury." As an Anglican priest, I visibly stand with post-Reformation Canterbury, that establishment of the English crown that rejects the Papacy. On the other hand I look back to the good St Thomas of Becket, Canterbury's most cherished (though now lost) relic, as a sign of heroic Christian Faith. I find myself a pilgrim (peregrinator is Latin for "pilgrim") making an hearty pilgrimage to Canterbury, only to hear the blood of Becket crying out, "My blood was not shed for this sort of Canterbury!!!"

Canterbury was once consecrated by the blood of Becket against the temptation to compromise the Faith for convenience. It's for this reason that the pilgrims of Canterbury Tales set upon their journey. And now we see the fruit of Archbishop Cranmer's Canterbury. Affirming sodomy. Changing the Priesthood by introducing the innovation of "priestesses." Denying the Virgin Birth, the Resurrection, authority of Scripture, the Sacraments, and so on ad infinitum.

As a pilgrim unto Canterbury, one has to ask himself, "Can I venerate Becket even though I stand historically with King Henry VIII and Archbishop Cranmer - men who allowed the Faith to change for political advantage?"

That is what I hope to explore on these Canterbury Tales. But it seems to me that Anglicanism is a wreck and that good St Thomas of Becket is the only good man left at Canterbury (even if he remains are scattered about from place to place).

Labels: Autobiographical