FATHER RAY, REST IN PEACE AND PRAY FOR US

This morning at 3 a.m. I was scurrying around when Catherine Collins got in touch to tell me some lugubrious news, England's Father Ray Blake had just passed into eternal life. Cath broke the news with exquisite gentleness, she is a superb nurse and at times like this I feel like her patient. I started shivering with grief, but could not cry. I got to know Father Ray when I was in my mid-20s, he had holy notoriety as the Parish Priest in Brighton. 

Father Ray wrote a controversial blog that was as pithy as it was powerful, it resounded with the type of integrity that attracts enemies and his observations had a habit of burning themselves onto the memory. I used to wish I could write like him, and it was a delight that he was a member of  our group, The Guild of Titus Brandsma. Mournfully, I do not have a photo of myself with Father Ray.

A regret of mine in my adult life is that I have not taken more photos with people who have led the way for me. I always feel I look too terrible, but today I felt a sting in my soul that I'd passed up the opportunity to have a photo taken with Father Ray, especially when the Guild used meet at the snug pub, The Coal Hole for fish and chips and/or lamb shank pie washed down with Guinness followed by pudding. A photo would be such a comfort at this time. 

If you never met Father Ray, he was most like the portrayal of St. Thomas More in Zinnemann's A Man For All Seasons. Father Ray was a most English priest in a country that is not Catholic, and to meet him was to know that the English contribution is sorely missed by our universal faith. He was kind without being a toady, discrete without being secretive, polite without being pandering and he could tell a hard truth in a courteous way.  

He had some vocal nemeses, and when I wrote in Father Ray's defense some of the journalistic class went from tolerating me to loathing me. This I don't regret, and I'm posting the piece I wrote for The Catholic Herald after Father Ray found himself in hot water for writing about the reality of serving the poor:

"Recently, I was talking to a literary agent about the need for a novel that portrays the poverty of our age. 

My imagination is constantly fed by encounters with the new poor in central London. During a recent summer night, I met a group of exhausted children sitting on the steps of my building. Speaking in Spanish, they told me that they had just arrived from Spain, and that their parents had asked them to wait there, while they looked for a bed for the night. So many of my peers, who hold university degrees are in a cycle of sofa-surfing and competing with ten other people for a job of pouring coffee and mopping floors.

Not that I am protected from financial pressure; after many bills this summer, I bounced a cheque. In this revolving recession, writing a novel about people pinned down by penury would be apposite. 

But is a literary description of hunger and desperation enough? No. As Fr Ray Blake’s undeserved trials show, the issue is that we avoid discussing the grubby nature of actually helping the poor. Fr Ray struck a nerve, when he detailed the unpleasant consequences of inviting the poor into our lives. 

Fr Ray has been at the forefront of blogging the nitty-gritty of befriending of the poor. By writing his blog, he is showing them kindness. He presents the true reality of being at their service, and reading his blog is a preparation for those who wish to do more for the poor than just pity them.  

Fr Ray is way ahead of his time. During Pope Francis’ papacy, more and more priests will be judged on the basis of how well they help the poor.  They will be reminded of Pope Francis’ frequent urgings to do more for the poor and will be held up to Pope Francis’s high standard. At the moment, how many of our priests are as conscientious and self-giving as Fr Ray? And if Fr Ray does not detail the grubby tasks, what will other priests have as a guide during this time of Francis?

Fr Ray has written that he is concerned that the fall-out from his blogging will make it tricky for his fellow priests and our bishops when it behoves them to defend him. Well, in the absence of Fr Ray, Britain would have no priest who is putting forth such uncompromising accounts of caring for the poor. We have a Pope in Rome who unceasingly insists that we share with the poor – and a situation in Britain where a frank priest has qualms that he can blog about the reality of carrying out the Pope’s wishes.  

Us laypeople need Fr Ray to teach us the pitfalls. To use a comparison, what if it were taboo in med-schools for professors to teach trainee doctors about the problems that they are likely to come across in treating patients? The med-students would faint on meeting a patient. 

Fr Ray is succeeding where the mainstream media is failing. He lifts the lid, and writes about the dilemmas of bringing the destitute into one’s home. Why is the mainstream media not doing the same? Why are we kidding ourselves that we will overcome poverty when we can’t even discuss its grim reality? Maybe because it’s not glamourous: to do as Fr Ray does, and clean up trails of vomit or counsel a junkie who is desperate for cash.   

If Fr Ray stops blogging, it will be a victory for the worst kind of censorship. It’s a form of intellectual suppression that misinterprets a priest’s realistic experience, and punishes him for being honest. Not just because the details of cleaning excrement and blood are disgusting to our sanitised sensibilities. But because Fr Ray’s good works makes some feel guilty.

And this is central – Fr Ray’s blogging upsets the consciences of people who have not let the poor near them.  Those who have never gotten their hands dirty at the service of the penurious always reveal their lack of experience when they criticise someone who has the first-hand knowledge that they lack. But just because it makes them uncomfortable and they misunderstand, should a good priest give up his blogging?

Fr Ray, please rebel against your critics by blogging more zealously than ever before. 

If I ever get round to writing a novel about our era’s rampant poverty, I’ll dedicate it to Fr Ray and send a copy to every columnist who has ever criticised him. I’d imagine that their reviews would be scathing, but maybe the cash earned from the book could go towards the soup kitchen that Fr Ray runs."

Father Ray has now left us, and 'til we hopefully meet him again, we may pray this for him:

O God, Thou didst raise Thy servant, Father Raymond Blake, to the sacred priesthood of Jesus Christ, according to the Order of Melchisedech, giving him the sublime power to offer the Eternal Sacrifice, to bring the Body and Blood of Thy Son Jesus Christ down upon the altar, and to absolve the sins of men in Thine own holy Name. We beseech Thee to read his faithfulness and to forget his faults, admitting him speedily into Thy holy presence these to enjoy forever the recompense of his labors. This we ask through Jesus Christ Thy Son Our Lord. Amen. 

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The first photo accompanying this post is, from left to right, of Father Ray, Father Z and Father James Bradley.