Fifty Years in the Church of Rome

by Charles Paschal Telesphore Chiniquy

QUEBEC MARINE HOSPITAL—THE FIRST TIME I CARRIED THE “BON DIEU” (THE WAFER GOD) IN MY VEST POCKET—THE GRAND OYSTER SOIREE AT MR. BUTEAU’S—THE REV. L. PARENT AND THE “BON DIEU” AT THE OYSTER SOIREE.

One of the first things done by the curate Tetu, after his new vicars had been chosen, was to divide, by casting lots, his large parish into four parts, that there might be more regularity in our ministerial labors, and my lot gave me the northeast of the parish which contained the Quebec Marine Hospital.

The number of sick sailors I had to visit almost every day in that noble institution, was between twenty-five and a hundred. The Roman Catholic chapel, with its beautiful altar was not yet completed. It was only in 1837 that I could persuade the hospital authorities to fix it as it is to-day. Having no place there to celebrate mass and keep the Holy Sacrament, I soon found myself in presence of a difficulty which, at first, seemed to me of a grave character. I had to administer the viaticum (holy communion) to a dying sailor. As every one knows, all Roman Catholics are bound to believe that by the consecration, the wafer is transformed into the body, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ. Hence, they call that ceremony: “Porter le bon dieu au malade” (carry the good God to the sick.) Till then, when in Charlesborough or St. Charles, I, with the rest of Roman Catholic priests, always made use of pomp and exterior marks of supreme respect for the Almighty God I was carrying in my hands to the dying.

I had never carried the good God without being accompanied by several people, walking or riding on horseback. I then wore a white surplice over my long black robe (soutane) to strike the people with awe. There was also a man ringing a bell before me, all along the way, to announce to the people that the great God, who had not only created them, but had made himself man to save them, by dying on Calvary, was passing by; that they had to fall on their knees in their houses, or along the public roads or in their fields, and prostrate themselves and adore him.

But could I do that in Quebec, where so many miserable heretics were more disposed to laugh at my God than to adore him?

In my zeal and sincere faith, I was, however, determined to dare the heretics of the whole world, and to expose myself to their insults, rather than give up the exterior marks of supreme respect and adoration which were due to my God everywhere; and twice I carried Him to the hospital with the usual solemnity.

In vain my curate tried to persuade me to change my mind. I closed my ears to his arguments. He then kindly invited me to go with him to the bishop’s palace, in order to confer with him on that grave subject. How can I express my dismay when the bishop told me, with a levity which I had not yet observed in him, “that on account of the Protestants whom we had to meet everywhere, it was better to make our ‘God’ travel incognito in the streets of Quebec.” He added in a high and jocose tone: “Put Him in your vest pocket, as do the rest of the city priests. Carry Him to your dying patients without any scruples. Never aim at being a reformer and doing better than your venerable brethren in the priesthood. We must not forget that we are a conquered people. If we were masters, we would carry Him to the dying with the public honors we used to give Him before the conquest; but the Protestants are the stronger. Our governor is a Protestant, as well as our Queen. The garrison which is inside the walls of their impregnable citadel, is composed chiefly of Protestants. According to the laws of our holy church, we have the right to punish, even by death, the miserable people who turn into ridicule the mysteries of our holy religion: But though we have that right, we are not strong enough to enforce it. We must, then, bear the yoke in silence. After all, it is our God himself, who in his inscrutable judgment, has deprived us of the power of honoring Him as He deserves, and to tell you my whole mind as plainly as possible, it is not our fault, but His own doing, so to speak, if we are forced to make Him travel incognito through our streets. It is one of the sad results of the victory which the God of battles gave to the Heretics over us on the plains of Abraham. If, in His good providence, we could break our fetters, and become free to pass again the laws which regulated Canada before the conquest, to prevent the heretics from settling among us, then we would carry Him as we used to do in those happy days.”

“But,” said I, “when I walk in the streets with my good God in my vest pocket, what will I do if I meet any friend who wants to shake hands and have a joke with me?”

The bishop laughed and answered: “Tell your friend you are in a hurry, and go your way as quickly as possible; but if there is no help, have your talk and your joke with him, without any scruple of conscience. The important point in this delicate matter is that the people should not know that we are carrying our God through the streets incognito; for this knowledge would surely shake and weaken their faith. The common people are, more than we think, kept in our holy church, by the impressing ceremonies of our processions and public marks of respect we give to Jesus Christ, when we carry Him to the sick; for the people are more easily persuaded by what they see with their eyes and touch with their hands, than by what they hear with their ears.”

I submitted to the order of my ecclesiastical superior; but I would not be honest, were I not to confess that I lost much of my spiritual joy for some time in the administration of the viaticum. I continued to believe as sincerely as I could, but the laughing words and light tone of my bishop had fallen upon my soul as an icy cloud. The jocose way in which he had spoken of what I had been taught to consider as the most awful and adorable mystery of the church, left the impression on my mind that he did not believe one iota of the dogma of transubstantiation. And in spite of all my honest efforts to get rid of that suspicion, it grew in my mind every time I met him to talk on any ministerial subject.