Thomas Howard on Christian Ritual
That looks like a grumpy title. What misanthrope among us is against spontaneity, for heaven’s sake? Isn’t spontaneity the very avatar of freshness, joy, freedom, youth, and—well, spontaneity? Who’s the blackguard (pronounced blaggard, I’m sure you know; it’s like ribald, which everyone pronounces ribald and is really ribbled; just a spontaneous little pedagogical parenthesis here)—anyway, who’s the blackguard who is so dyspeptic that he will begrudge us all the very thing that blows like the spring breeze through the fetid miasma of conventionalism?
Yes. Fie. Or some . . .
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