Fr. Thomas Onoda

(Though I'm now back in Oxford, I submit this as the second part of my report about Christ the King Sunday in Seoul.)

Fr. Thomas Onoda (SSPX/FSSPX) is a winsome fellow. His smiling and quiet demeanor, however, is transformed when he preaches. At such times, his fiery zeal for souls and for the exaltation of our holy Mother the Church is evident. Yet if you were tempted to doubt a sincerity evinced by mere words, you can see the proof of Fr. Onoda's mettle in his frequent flyer miles. In thirteen years as a priest (he was ordained by Bishop de Gallerata), Fr. Onoda has completed over 400 legs between Japan, Corea, and the Philippines. The chapels of the Society of St. Pius X in each of the these countries owes a measureless debt of gratitude to this indefatigable priest.

Patience is a virtue which Fr. Onoda has in abundance. Not only must he contend with the hassles of frequent air travel, but he also must move through a plethora of languages wherever he goes. Besides French, the lingua franca of the Society of St. Pius X - if I may thus denominate it without redundancy - Fr. Onoda speaks English, Corean, and his native language, Japanese. At a little gathering for his birthday, after the celebration of Christ the King Sunday, Father was bombarded from all directions in three languages, as we sometimes found ourselves speaking to him all at once.

Happily, Fr. Onoda's father was also present for the occasion. This affable elderly gentleman was eagerly speaking in Japanese to Catharina Oxoniensis, and Catharina was, in turn, beseeching Fr. Onoda, sometimes in English, sometimes in Corean, for a translation. I was sitting next to Fr. Onoda and interjecting an occasional remark in my wonted stammering English. To Fr. Onoda's left, the Coreans who had prepared the cake and had joined the lunch were speaking to him in Corean. Finally, Fr. Onoda was so flustered that he began to answer his father in Corean!

Would that I could have responded in a similar situation with a smile and a laugh, as did Fr. Onoda. Keep in mind that this "lunch" began at nearly half past two in the afternoon, and though I don't know the whole of Fr. Onoda's morning, of what I know, it was grueling. When Catharina Oxoniensis and I reached the chapel an hour before the Mass at 9:30AM, Fr. Onoda had already begun to hear confessions. He continued to hear confessions until 10:30, when the Mass was scheduled to begin. Because he gives the homily first in Corean and then in English, the whole of what our Novus Ordo brethren would call the "Liturgy of the Word" wasn't finished until 11:30. Immediately after the Mass, Father exposed the Blessed Sacrament for adoration and the procession began. With fitting solemnity, Fr. Onoda carried the Sacrament through the streets of Seoul. When the procession returned to the chapel, there was Benediction and the Litany of the Sacred Heart was led by Father and chanted in Latin.

(This was a special treat: though I've often said the various approved litanies - I refuse to say those which are unapproved - rarely have I sung them. The last time (and first time) I sang the Litany of the Sacred Heart, it was only Ambrosius and I in the Masons' building on Cornell's campus.)

By this point, I had approached a near critical level of hunger. Since Catharina's father's house is a little over an hour from Immaculate Conception chapel, we had risen around 7AM. By the time the procession returned and the more prayers had been said, it was around 1:45PM. Catharina Oxoniensis had insisted that we eat nothing in the morning before leaving the house, and so when we finally left the chapel after much bowing and scraping to friends in the Corean way, I was eager to eat. (Iacobus will remind our readers my notorious weakness with respect to every bodily comfort.) As for Fr. Onoda, immediately after leaving the sanctuary, he returned to the confessional where he remained for another 45 minutes.

Besides the birthday cake and Father's father, a question put to Fr. Onoda by Catharina Oxoniensis was the highlight of the lunch. Catharina has long been an admirer of His Excellency, Bishop Richard Williamson, and the good bishop's lecture about the inadvisability of women attending university piqued her interest. So with little prelude (and some school girlish prodding from the author), Catharina asked, "Father, what do you think about Bishop Williamson's article against women in the university?"

On this subject, Fr. Onoda particularly impressed me. First, he spoke of Bishop Williamson as a man whom he likes. Second, he was familiar with the lecture in question as though he had often had occasion to speak about it. Third, he distinguished between the principles which Williamson endorses and the constraints and prudential considerations of any concrete situation. While Fr. Onoda endorsed the substance of the message, he also said that, in many cases, it would be impractical to implement the ideals expressed in any immediate way. In other words, the aim isn't a mass exodus of Catholic women from university, but a return, beginning in childhood, to different directions in the education of women and men.

Still, Williamson fans, fear not that the good bishop's cause was betrayed on this Sunday in Seoul, for Fr. Onoda wrapped up the conversation with a line which will bring immeasurable delight to Iacobus' heart: "A girl's best education happens in her mother's kitchen." When I heard these words, I nearly swooned away, but a bowl of kimchi held under my nose soon revived me.

Yes, evil traditionalists, rejoice, for you have a friend and champion in Corea, Japan, and Manila!

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