The unorthodox folks embracing Christianity

Russell Brand was baptized on Sunday, he says — in the River Thames, despite his tongue-in-cheek fear of catching a virus — and he’s thrilled about it. He thanked those who embraced his decision, while expressing understanding of those who are cynical. He’s not perfect, he explains; he knows he’s going to make mistakes, but “this is my path now,” he says. “I’m so grateful to be surrendered in Christ.”

Speaking as a Catholic, this writer can’t but consider the advantages of baptism in church: waters freed from viruses and demons through exorcism, holy oils, and proper storage, might have been preferable. Yet it’s impossible not to feel hopeful for Brand, and to wish him — and the other right-wing celebrities who have been drawing closer to Christianity of late — great things for the future. There’s a place for cynicism, but there’s also and always room for hope.

The rosary was a step on the road for Tammy Peterson, wife of the religiously reluctant Jordan

Though he doesn’t say he’s joined any specific church, give him time. His wife is Catholic; add to that the fact that only the other day he was teaching his 11 million followers on X to pray the rosary. First, devotion to Blessed Mary; next, Catholicism? Like freshly-admitted convert Candace Owens, we’ll be hearing of Russell at the Brompton Oratory next, clad, perhaps, in the sackcloth and ashes of a conservative blazer and tie. Now that would truly be putting on the new man.

The rosary was a step on the road for Tammy Peterson, wife of the religiously reluctant Jordan. The story of her terminal cancer diagnosis and cure is well known. Against all the odds, she was completely (and miraculously, she believes) restored to health and joined the Catholic Church this past Easter. “I know what brought me here,” she told interviewers after the ceremony. “I’ve been looking for Mother Mary since I was a little kid.”

Historian Tom Holland spoke a few weeks ago about his own dealings with the Queen of Heaven. Raised Anglican, the young Holland quickly lost his faith. But over the years he came to see Christianity as the moral foundation of western civilization, and, though still agnostic, began to attend Anglican services at St. Bartholomew the Great — coincidentally, the only place in London where the Blessed Virgin is said to have appeared.

At Christmas of 2021, Holland attended St. Bartholomew’s midnight service in some distress. He had just been diagnosed with bowel cancer, and the outlook was not good. As the ceremony ended, he found himself glancing over to the spot where Our Lady is said to have appeared. He decided that he might as well head over there and — not to put too fine a point upon it — pray. “No atheists in a foxhole,” he told himself. This was his first prayer since childhood, Holland says. On the spot where the Blessed Virgin came down from heaven, he sent up a heartfelt plea for help. “Come on. Please.”

From that point on, he says, all kinds of things began to go right. Today he is well and cancer free. Was it miraculous? Holland thinks it possible. It could have been a remarkable series of coincidences, he says — but is that ungrateful to the Virgin? Yes, a friend tells him. And he can’t but be captivated by a God who would deliberately fly in the face of his every prejudice as a Protestant agnostic, confronting him not just with a supernatural intervention, but with Mary, with intercessory prayer, with the medieval and the Catholic — all the sorts of things with which he most emphatically doesn’t identify. “If it’s true,” he says, “God has the most wonderful sense of humor!” Perhaps the Mother of God has a sense of humor, too.

Jordan Peterson says that the Catholic Church’s “insistence upon the divine nature of the mother” is something that “the West desperately needs.” Peterson hasn’t got the first part quite right, since Catholics believe Mary is human, not divine. Nevertheless, he’s onto something, despite his unwillingness to speak plain English. (Dr. Peterson, if by chance you’re reading this: your saint-covered tuxedo is truly, well, iconic.)  

Art historian Kenneth Clark spoke glowingly of the essential influence of the Blessed Virgin on western civilization, she who taught “tough and ruthless barbarians” the virtues of tenderness and compassion, she who inspired them to build cathedrals, compose music, make art — but also to respect women and defend the weak. When the Protestant reformers sought to ban veneration of Mary, how must a simple Catholic have reacted? Not just with principled outrage, but with a sense that a significant part of his emotional life was under threat. As indeed it was, Clark says: the heretics sought “to deprive him of that sweet, compassionate, approachable being who would intercede for him, as his mother might have interceded with a hard master.”

There is a growing awareness among intellectuals on the right, those above but also the likes of Douglas Murray, Paul Kingsnorth, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, even Richard Dawkins, that only the remnants of Christianity are keeping western civilization from the abyss. Many are looking back on the Enlightenment, wondering how the great liberal project could have failed.

Claiming to rid the world of “superstition,” the Enlightenment thought to pave the way to a glorious new future. But in turning away from Catholicism, freethinkers and reformers together cut western culture off from the life-giving inspiration of the Blessed Virgin. And we’re surprised our civilization is running out of steam? The only surprise is that it’s lasted so long.

This article was originally published on The Spectator’s UK website