Editorial: To RECEIVE not to Fabricate
Accipere, non fingere — to receive, not to fabricate. The words might almost serve as a definition of the Catholic instinct. Christianity begins not with man’s invention, but with God’s initiative. Creation is received. Revelation is received. Grace is received. The Sacraments are received. The Church receives her constitution from Christ; the Roman Pontiff receives the Petrine office; bishops receive an apostolic charge which is theirs to guard and exercise, but not to reinvent; the liturgy is received as the public worship of the Church before it becomes an object of legislation. Even the Blessed Virgin, whose Assumption gives this edition its supernatural horizon, stands at the centre of salvation history because she first received: Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Her glory begins not in self-assertion but in perfect correspondence with what God gives.
Much of the present crisis, both within the Church and beyond her, may be understood as a revolt against this very idea of givenness. Modernity is uneasy with anything that precedes the sovereign will. Nature becomes material for reconstruction; identity something to be declared; morality a negotiation; authority an instrument; tradition an obstacle; worship a programme to be redesigned according to perceived contemporary needs. The danger for Catholics is therefore deeper than the adoption of this or that fashionable error. It is the absorption of the underlying habit of mind: the assumption that whatever has been received may legitimately be reconstructed until it says what the present age wishes to hear. Nuntiatoria CXIX examines that assumption across theology, liturgy, ecclesiology, history and the present government of the Church.
The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary provides the most luminous contradiction of that mentality. Mary does not create her own destiny or overcome creaturehood by an act of self-definition. She is assumed, body and soul, into heavenly glory by God. The passive form matters. God acts; the creature receives. Yet this reception is anything but inert. The whole life of Our Lady is the most complete human cooperation with grace ever known. Her bodily glorification therefore reveals something which the modern world desperately needs to hear: grace perfects nature; it does not abolish it. The body has a meaning because God gave it one. Human nature is not an arbitrary substrate upon which the autonomous will may impose whatever identity it pleases. In Mary, created nature reaches its highest dignity precisely because it has been wholly surrendered to truth.
The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost develops the same theme through the Gospel of the Good Samaritan. Modern exegesis often reduces the parable to a general injunction to kindness, admirable enough but dramatically poorer than the inheritance received from the Fathers. Patristic and medieval commentators saw in the wounded man fallen Adam, in the road from Jerusalem to Jericho mankind’s descent, in the Samaritan Christ Himself, in the oil and wine the healing of grace, and in the inn the Church into which wounded humanity is carried for restoration. Such an interpretation does not impose a fanciful meaning upon Scripture. It receives the mystery which the Church, reading the Scriptures within the unity of Revelation, has always discerned there. Even biblical interpretation is governed by the distinction between receiving and fabricating.
That distinction becomes immediately practical in our examination of the Catholic Truth Society’s “We Believe” festival and the proposed conversion of England. There is an immense difference between proclaiming the Catholic Faith so that England may receive it and modifying Catholicism until contemporary England may feel comfortable receiving something else. The missionary Church understood conversion in the strong sense: souls and nations were to be brought to Christ, incorporated into His Church, instructed in revealed truth, converted from sin and nourished by sacramental grace. Much modern pastoral language prefers a less demanding vocabulary of encounter, listening, accompaniment and mutual enrichment. These things may have their place, but none is a substitute for conversion. England does not need Catholicism to become more like England. England needs to become Catholic.
That older confidence is evident in the prayers associated with ✠Nicholas Wiseman and ✠Arnold Harris Mathew. Their circumstances were not identical, but their petitions for the conversion of England and the restoration of Catholic unity proceed from the same conviction: unity has an objective content. One prays for reunion because something real has been divided and something definite must be recovered. Catholic unity is not manufactured by institutional diplomacy, nor by discovering a sufficiently elastic vocabulary in which incompatible beliefs may permanently coexist. It is received through common adherence to the truth revealed by Christ and entrusted to His Church. Charity cannot require us to pretend that contradiction is communion.
The continuing prominence of synodality under Pope Leo XIV raises the same question at the level of ecclesial government. Consultation, counsel and the prudent hearing of clergy and faithful belong to the Church’s history and need present no difficulty. The danger lies elsewhere: in allowing the method of consultation to become an ecclesiology in its own right, as though doctrine acquired authority through the process by which it was discussed. Bishops do not assemble in order to determine what Christianity should now mean. The Church does not discover Revelation through consensus. The episcopal office is ministerial before it is deliberative: bishops receive a deposit of faith which they are commanded to guard, expound and hand on.
This is not a diminution of authority but its proper foundation. Authority which invents its own content is ultimately indistinguishable from power. Catholic authority is stronger precisely because it is itself under judgement. The pope receives the Petrine office from Christ and therefore cannot redefine its purpose at will. A bishop receives apostolic authority and is consequently bound by the faith of the Apostles. A priest receives the Sacrifice and Sacraments of the Church and does not own them. The hierarchy possesses genuine jurisdiction, but not sovereignty over Revelation itself. Accipere, non fingere is therefore not a slogan for ecclesiastical weakness. It is the principle which makes Catholic authority intelligible.
Few subjects reveal this more clearly than the post-conciliar liturgical reform. Our examination of the Missa Normativa, the part played by Annibale Bugnini, the episcopal reaction to the experimental rite, and evidence of the reforming programme already developing before the Council is not merely an exercise in liturgical archaeology. It concerns the nature and limits of authority over received worship. The Roman liturgy grew through centuries of organic development. Popes regulated it, purified it and occasionally reformed it, but they did so within the consciousness that they were custodians of something inherited. The Mass was not raw ecclesiastical material awaiting the creative hand of specialists.
That is why it is inadequate to answer every objection to the reform of Paul VI with the assertion that a pope possessed the legal authority to promulgate it. The real historical and theological question is not merely whether legislation occurred, but what kind of relationship legislation ought to bear to a rite received through centuries. Lawfulness cannot by itself settle questions of prudence, continuity or fidelity to liturgical tradition. The Roman Pontiff is the supreme legislator of the Church; he is not the proprietor of her worship. The distinction is not anti-papal. It is profoundly Roman, because it locates papal authority within the very Tradition which gives that authority meaning.
The case of Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre exposes how badly history is distorted when later developments are read backwards into earlier acts. The familiar claim that Lefebvre voted for Sacrosanctum Concilium and therefore consented in substance to the subsequent liturgical reconstruction depends upon conflating things which were plainly not identical. Approval of prudent reform was not approval of the practical disappearance of Latin from ordinary parish worship, the widespread abandonment of Gregorian chant, the reorientation of altars, extensive ceremonial innovation, the multiplication of options, or the construction of a substantially new order of Mass. Lefebvre’s subsequent interventions, protests and decisions belong to the historical evidence no less than his conciliar vote does. If the facts complicate the polemic, it is the polemic which must give way.
Here the motto of this edition serves as a test of historical method as well as ecclesiology. Was the received Roman Rite treated principally as an inheritance to be developed or increasingly as material to be redesigned? That question cannot be answered by slogans about obedience, nor by romanticising everything that preceded 1969. It must be answered from the drafts, votes, memoranda, interventions and stated intentions of the men involved. The past has a right to be received as it was, rather than fabricated into a convenient prehistory for the present.
The same discipline is required in dealing with sedevacantist claims concerning heresy and loss of office. A Catholic need not pretend that members of the hierarchy are incapable of error. The history of the Church would make such a theory untenable. But recognition of error does not confer upon the individual believer the power to convert a theological judgement into a juridical fact. There is a decisive distinction between saying that a proposition is heretical and asserting that the man who uttered it has thereby been legally shown to be a formal, pertinacious heretic who has ceased to hold ecclesiastical office.
That distinction becomes especially important when pertinacity is invoked. Formal heresy involves more than the objective falsity of a statement; it involves obstinate adherence to error after the relevant contradiction with Catholic teaching has been made manifest. This is why the conduct of the Society of Saint Pius X deserves more attention than it often receives in these debates. Whatever one thinks of the Society’s canonical position or prudential decisions, it has repeatedly placed its doctrinal objections before Rome, requested answers, participated in formal discussions and confronted Roman authorities with the propositions it regards as incompatible with Tradition. Its method may be disputed, but the confrontation is real.
By contrast, there is something profoundly unsatisfactory in clergy who confidently pronounce popes and whole generations of bishops formal heretics while apparently never having presented those men with the charges upon which the alleged loss of office depends. If pertinacity matters, correction matters. If obstinacy matters, refusal to retract matters. If canonical fact matters, private inference is not enough. The Catholic response to a crisis in authority cannot itself be founded upon an authority one does not possess. Once again, the task is to receive reality, however difficult it may be, rather than manufacture a cleaner ecclesial world by declaration.
Our study of the Vatican agreement with Communist China carries the same principle into the relation between Church and State. The comparison with the Civil Constitution of the Clergy in revolutionary France is not an assertion that the two situations are historically identical. The parallel lies in the perennial temptation of political power to determine the conditions under which the Church may recognise, appoint or permit her clergy to function. Revolutionary France demanded a clergy reordered according to the State. Those who swore became constitutional priests; those who refused became refractory clergy, often at terrible cost. Communist China created its own structures of ecclesiastical control and sought to subject episcopal appointments to political supervision.
The Catholic question beneath both episodes is elemental: from whom does a bishop receive his mission? Diplomatic settlements may be necessary; persecution creates situations in which every available course carries dangers; historical judgement must take those realities seriously. But prudence cannot change the nature of Holy Orders or apostolic jurisdiction. A bishop does not receive his episcopal character from a patriotic association, a revolutionary legislature or a department of state. Caesar cannot give what belongs to Christ. Whenever political accommodation begins to obscure that truth, the Church risks accepting an ecclesiastical fiction for the sake of institutional survival.
The recently recovered material concerning a projected or “lost” encyclical of Pius XII offers a different but related warning. History itself must be received. Later developments often cast such a long shadow backwards that earlier periods are rewritten as though they were merely preparing the inevitable future. Archives have a habit of destroying that neatness. Drafts, memoranda and unpublished texts reveal arguments which were still open, concerns later forgotten and trajectories which were never as predetermined as retrospective narratives suggest. The pre-conciliar Church cannot simply be described as Vatican II waiting to happen, any more than every post-conciliar innovation can be authenticated by claiming that it was somehow latent in everything that preceded it.
This is why Nuntiatoria CXIX moves so readily between Marian doctrine, scriptural exegesis, liturgy, canon law, ecclesiology and history. Its subjects are diverse, but the underlying dispute is one. Does Catholicism understand itself principally as the custodian of something received, or as the manager of something perpetually reconstructed? Does the Church receive the Faith or renegotiate it? Does she receive human nature or redesign it? Does she receive her liturgy or manufacture worship according to successive pastoral theories? Do bishops receive an apostolic commission or merely occupy religious offices recognised by prevailing political and institutional structures? Does Scripture possess a meaning to which we submit, or is it material from which each age constructs its preferred moral lessons?
The Catholic answer has never been one of inert conservatism. Reception is not paralysis. A living tradition develops precisely because it is alive, and authority exists precisely because the deposit must be taught, defended and applied in circumstances the Apostles did not themselves encounter. But development differs from manufacture as growth differs from construction. The oak is not a betrayal of the acorn; a plastic imitation of the oak is. Authentic development unfolds what was already given. Fabrication substitutes something else while borrowing the authority of what came before.
The distinction matters because the modern temptation is not merely to change individual things. It is to make change itself a principle of legitimacy. Once that happens, permanence begins to require justification while novelty requires none. Tradition is placed in the dock, and innovation occupies the bench. The question ceases to be whether a proposed development can be shown to belong organically to the received Faith and becomes whether the inherited form can prove its usefulness to the present. At that point the relationship between Church and age has been inverted.
Against such an inversion stands the Blessed Virgin Mary. At Nazareth she does not negotiate the Incarnation, demand that Revelation first accommodate itself to her expectations, or treat divine election as material for self-expression. She asks how the word of God shall be fulfilled and, receiving the answer, gives the response upon which the Christian world turns: Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Her obedience is neither servility nor the extinction of personality. It is the perfection of creaturely freedom in conformity with truth.
The Assumption is the final vindication of that Fiat. The woman who perfectly received is the woman most perfectly exalted. She loses nothing by surrendering herself to God. Her humanity is not diminished but glorified; her body is not escaped but assumed; her freedom is not extinguished but brought to fulfilment. In an age which teaches that dignity lies in self-invention, Mary reveals that the highest dignity lies in becoming perfectly what God created and called us to be.
That is why Accipere, non fingere belongs at the head of Nuntiatoria CXIX. It is not a decorative Latin tag imposed upon a miscellaneous collection of articles. It names the argument running through them. The conversion of England, synodality, the Roman liturgy, Archbishop Lefebvre, sedevacantism, relations with Communist China, the interpretation of recent ecclesiastical history, the Good Samaritan and the Assumption all finally return us to the same Catholic instinct: reality is not ours to manufacture.
We receive the Faith because God has spoken. We receive the Church because Christ founded her. We receive the moral order because creation has a meaning. We receive Tradition because others faithfully handed on what they themselves received. We receive authority because no man confers it upon himself. We receive grace because salvation is gift before it is achievement.
And what we have received, we are bound in our turn to hand on.
Accipere, non fingere.
To receive, not to fabricate.
IN THIS EDITION
- 16.08.26 Nuntiatoria CXIX: Accipere non Fingere
The editorial “To RECEIVE not to Fabricate” emphasises the Catholic principle of receiving divine truths rather than altering them to suit contemporary desires. It critiques modern tendencies to reconstruct faith, identity, and authority, advocating for a recognition of traditional teachings and practices as inherent gifts from God, ultimately underscoring the necessity of faithful transmission of beliefs. - He Came Where He Was: The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost reflects on the parable of the Good Samaritan, illustrating humanity’s need for Christ’s grace and mercy. It emphasises that the Law reveals but cannot heal sin. The Gospel teaches that Christian compassion extends beyond boundaries, reminding believers to respond to others’ needs as Christ does. - ASSUMPTA EST MARIA IN CAELUM: The Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, August 15
The Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, celebrated on 15 August, reflects a long-standing belief within the Church about Mary’s elevation to heaven, confirmed by Pius XII in 1950. This dogma affirms the organic growth of Marian devotion through historical liturgical practices and highlights the theological connection between Mary’s Assumption, her perfect obedience, and Christ’s resurrection. - Experts in Synodality: Leo XIV and the Rise of the Church of Process
Archbishop Coakley and Pope Leo XIV highlight the challenges and opportunities of synodality in the Church. While Coakley warns of the process’s complexity for ordinary Catholics, Leo emphasises the role of religious communities in cultivating synodal expertise. The conversation exposes underlying concerns about representation and authority within ecclesiastical governance, advocating for theological precision and clarity. - WHEN THE SEE IS SAID TO BE VACANT: Papal heresy, pertinacity, jurisdiction and the limits of private certainty
The article discusses the complexities surrounding the validity of the papacy amid allegations of heresy by recent Popes. It critiques the sedevacantist position, emphasising the need for established public certainty before declaring a Pope as heretical or ceasing to hold office. It argues that resistance to authority must remain grounded in church structure and orthodox processes. - Vatican II Never Turned the Priest Around
The assertion that Vatican II mandated priests to celebrate Mass facing the congregation is historically inaccurate. Sacrosanctum Concilium does not require this orientation, although later instructions encouraged it. The prevailing custom emerged through adaptation rather than a direct conciliar command, underscoring the distinction between legislative intent and subsequent practices. - What Lefebvre Voted For — and What He Did Not
Larry Chapp’s critique of Peter Kwasniewski highlights the complexities surrounding Archbishop Lefebvre’s vote for Sacrosanctum Concilium. While Lefebvre endorsed liturgical reform, he later resisted the extent of changes that followed the Council. The dialogue underscores a significant gap between bishops’ initial intentions and the reforms that emerged post-Vatican II. - THE ENCYCLICAL THAT NEVER WAS: Cultum Regi Regum, Pius XII and the Road Not Taken in 1958
The uncatalogued encyclical “Cultum Regi Regum,” intended by Pius XII in 1958, addressed crucial theological issues, emphasising objective worship of God, natural law, and the Church’s authority. Historical findings highlight how this document foreshadowed the Church’s responses to modern challenges, contrasting sharply with the subsequent pastoral orientation of Vatican II. - THE SINS OF THE FATHERS: The Church of England and the New Doctrine of Inherited Guilt
Nick Timothy, a Conservative MP, challenged the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dame Sarah Mullally, over the Church of England’s £100 million commitment to address historical links to slavery. He argued against the doctrine of inherited guilt, insisting individuals cannot repent for others’ sins, emphasising the need for distinction between restitution and charity in addressing historical injustices. - Authority Is Not Alchemy: The New Mass, the Long Reform and the Limits of Liturgical Obedience
The content discusses the complexities surrounding the Novus Ordo Missae, highlighting differing perspectives on papal authority and liturgical reform. It argues that while a Pope may exercise legitimate authority, this does not guarantee the prudence or organic continuity of the reforms undertaken. Historical analyses reveal a significant rupture with traditional practices, prompting ongoing debate among Catholics regarding the nature and implications of liturgical innovations. - Annual Visitation to the ORA Mission in Bergerac and the Dordogne
The annual visitation to the Old Roman Apostolate’s mission in Bergerac and the Dordogne, led by HE ✠Jerome Lloyd, celebrated the Church’s traditional sacramental life. Highlighting First Holy Communions and Confirmations, the event strengthened community bonds among dispersed faithful, fostering a vibrant Catholic fellowship nurtured through shared worship and pastoral care. - THE GOSPEL OF AFFIRMATION
The Church of England’s General Synod recently rejected a proposal to affirm LGBTQIA+ identities and relationships, highlighting the tension between pastoral care and doctrinal integrity. The debate illustrates wider challenges within contemporary Christianity regarding identity, morality, and the risk of conflating affirmation with salvation, raising concerns about future theological implications.
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