The lions have, of course, not all been silent. The Four Cardinals with their DUBIA, epitomize bishops performing a basic inexorable function which
most of their colleagues do not apparently think they have, especially vis-a-vis a pope, or are too weak-willed to exercise for a number of reasons;
while the DUBIA epitomize the most serious questions orthodox Catholics have been asking about the Catholicism of this pope who seems focused
on systematically establishing Bergoglianism and the church of Bergoglio. Questions which have continued to pile up and/or recur with alarming
frequency since Bergoglio was elected pope in March 2013.
Silence of the lions
Where are the Von Galens we need today?
Where are the Ambroses? The John Fishers?
by David Warren
NOVEMBER 26, 2016
What is the use of bishops? This has been a question in the minds of many Catholic faithful, through my adult life, as I have learnt from conversation. Often the question itself, or something like it, is asked sarcastically, about one bishop or another who has failed, signally, to uphold Catholic teaching when he was called upon “by events.” The cock crows thrice and then – the possibility fades.
The faithful are told, by this silence or (more often) incoherent mumbling, that when it comes to the witnessing of Christ and Christ’s teaching, they are on their own. They may have the Catechism of the Catholic Church before them, to remind them what’s what in our faith, but if they make a stand they cannot expect their leaders to support them.
Rather, more likely, they are quietly disowned, as “fanatics,” and left to stew in that reputation. For they are now taken to be speaking only for themselves, in a time when anything said with clarity and precision can be dismissed as the outpouring of mere “feelings,” then slandered as “hate speech.”
In a dark time, when speech codes are advancing on every academic, legal, social and political front, the lawless Dictatorship of Relativism is being consolidated.
Anything you say may be, potentially, prosecuted on the argument that it might, potentially, hurt the feelings of unknown members of some vaguely defined, politically favored group. The dissident loses his livelihood, or if he hopes to keep it, must submit to public humiliation and some course of “counseling,” or “sensitivity training,” or “re-education.”
Maoism is thus alive and well on the college campuses; and spreading beyond them. Or Stalinism, or Hitlerism, if the gentle reader prefers. Or “McCarthyism,” insofar as it was conceived to involve show trials.
McCarthyism was defeated, fairly quickly – inside three months – when several prominent establishment figures stood up to the late Wisconsin senator, and said they had had enough. Joe McCarthy was himself labeled a pariah, and his case made a warning to any who might wish to emulate him.
Indeed,
a more formidable McCarthyism of the Left was planted in the corpse of that politician, and his name made into a propaganda slogan. But to begin with, I think, there was genuine outrage at the recklessness of McCarthy’s senate hearings, and for the first who stood up, some nerve was required.
As courage will always be required – in all times, in all nations – for those who will oppose an injustice.
We have by now, in the Catholic Church, a legacy of bishops who were brave and worthy, written into the annals of our Saints and Martyrs. Conducted chiefly through the liturgy, they amount in practice to a Third Testament – an exemplary chronicle through twenty centuries in which, by the lives of great men and women, the Life of Christ persisted in this world.
By no means can we say that bishops always fail us; nor even when they fall silent are we necessarily left to fend for ourselves. God finds others who step forward to give the example. It should also be said that we ourselves are entitled, by the grace of our baptism, to step forward – to vindicate the good and the true; to condemn their opposites. But such acts are uncommon.
That they are uncommon is part of the teaching, about sinful man. We are so attached to our worldly comforts, by our worldly imaginations, that in the clearest opposition between right and wrong we will seek the quiet life. And as we could know if only from the Gospels, the man well fed and well housed, well friended and conspicuously decorated (such as a bishop), has more to lose than most. Why risk it all in exchange for public persecution, and the risk of abandonment by his own supporters? For rewards not of this world, invisible except to the eyes of Faith?
Last night, I attended the launching of a fine book at the Toronto Oratory. It is by Father Daniel Utrecht: the best biography we now have in English of
The Lion of Münster: The Bishop Who Roared Against the Nazis. His name was Clemens August Count von Galen, and an eloquent column on him was published in this Catholic Thing, a few months ago.
Against the Nazi regime, and especially against its policies of extermination (“euthanasia”) he railed, in just the way every German bishop was obliged to do through the period 1933-45, when most chose a discreet silence, or at best some discreet mumbling.
Von Galen did not wait for the authority to speak, because he had the authority. And
it was so apparent to his flock of the Münster diocese, and by word-of-mouth across Germany, that the Nazis did not dare kill him: saving that delicious prospect, as Hitler confided to his inner circle, until after the war was won. That it wasn’t won was at least partly due to this bishop’s brashness.
I like to imagine historical counterfactuals. What if? What if every German bishop had stood as von Galen? Then, perhaps, the regime would have persecuted Catholics across Germany in a repetition of Bismarck’s Kulturkampf, or worse. They would have absorbed what the Allies did, in finally taking the Nazis down. In the course of which, quite possibly, they might have reclaimed all Germany from its lapsed Christian allegiance.
Or a like counterfactual. What if rather than just one (Saint John Fisher), all the British bishops had stood up to Henry VIII? What if all had been willing to be martyred – all clergy following their lead, and the Catholic people rising everywhere and not just in isolated regional revolts? Not in violence but in holy stubbornness to say, “This will not pass!”
Such things are finally imponderable, but I entertain the thoughts for
the insight they offer into the extraordinary worldly power the Church would have, were it governed by lions.
I am not and never have been a fan or follower of blogger Louis Verrecchio, for whom anything in the Church that came after Pius XII is rotten and invalid, especially Vatican II and everything after it. Nor do I appreciate him and other ueber-traditionalists like him who now treat Benedict XVI with utter contempt and ridicule - mainly because they see him consenting to be 'instrumentalized' by - or voluntarily making himself into a tool for - Bergoglio and his ends, whatever they may be. But in the following post, Verrecchio offers a reflection that I share about yet another Bergoglian nail being driven into the heart of the Catholic faith.
The Bergoglian Christ:
Beaten, bloodied, belittled
by Louie Verrecchio
AKA CATHOLIC
November 26, 2016
Sunday, November 20th, marked the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.
In his homily, Francis described it as “the crown of the liturgical year;” a nice turn-of-phrase to be sure, but make no mistake about it, in his eyes, Christ Himself remains crownless.
As his preaching that day suggests, the Bergoglian image of Jesus is born, in part, from what appears to be a practical denial of the resurrection:
‘The Christ of God, the Chosen One, the King’ (Lk 23:35,37) appears without power or glory: he is on the cross, where he seems more to be conquered than conqueror. His kingship is paradoxical: his throne is the cross; his crown is made of thorns; he has no sceptre, but a reed is put into his hand; he does not have luxurious clothing, but is stripped of his tunic; he wears no shiny rings on his fingers, but his hands are pierced with nails; he has no treasure, but is sold for thirty pieces of silver.
While one may rightly speak of the “throne of the Cross” where Our Lord appeared “to be conquered,” it would be a most grievous error to imagine that this is where the story ends.
[No Christian really thinks that, but Bergoglio's words suggest otherwise.]
Though Francis said, “His kingship is paradoxical,” he never seems to get around to the “other side of the coin” by extolling the extent of Our Lord’s authority, His infinite power, and His social reign.
Rather, he consistently speaks as if to gaze upon Our Lord even now is to look upon one who “seems more to be conquered than conqueror.”
Missing entirely from the Christology of Francis is any indication that he believes in One who is clothed in majesty, sovereignty and glory. It’s as if the resurrection never happened! [Bergoglio does not necessarily deny the Resurrection in those words (he hasn't done so, so far, though he may be among those who think it is really just symbolic; and I should check out what Luther has said about the Resurrection because this may be another Bergoglian Luther-redux), but he eschews even describing the Lord in 'majesty, sovereignty and glory' because the very idea contradicts Bergoglio's false notions of 'humility'! Why he would even think to deny those attributes to the Lord of Lords, God most almighty, is perverse. It would seem like a rejection of the very idea that we ought to worship God, why in the Gloria, we say, "Glory to God in the highest... We praise You. We bless You. We adore you. We glorify You. We give You thanks for Your great glory. O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father almighty..."
No Christian would ever think of Jesus only as the Crucified One without looking to the Risen Christ, of Good Friday without Easter Sunday, in which the glory of the Resurrection sublimates and crowns the Lord's suffering and death' Which is why the Resurrection - not the Crucifixion which is its necessary prelude - is the keystone of our faith.]
This presumably is why he can only manage to preach a crucified king whose throne is a cross as opposed to the Risen Lord who said of Himself, “I am set down with my Father in his throne.”
(cf Apocalypse 3:21)
In establishing the Feast of Christ the King, Pope Pius XI taught:
After His resurrection, when giving to His Apostles the mission of teaching and baptizing all nations, he took the opportunity to call himself King, confirming the title publicly, and solemnly proclaimed that all power was given Him in heaven and on earth. These words can only be taken to indicate the greatness of His power, the infinite extent of His kingdom. (cf Quas Primas 11)
How different this image of Christ is from the one espoused by Francis and those who think as he does!
Consider, for example, the words of Cardinal Oscar Rodríguez Maradiaga, the man handpicked by Francis to lead the cardinals advising him on the Curia’s reorganization:
The function of the hierarchy is redefined in reference to Jesus as Suffering Servant, not as “Pantocrator” (lord and emperor of this world); only from the perspective of someone crucified by the powers of this world it is possible to found, and to explain, the authority of the Church.
[I wasn't aware Maradiaga had said that, which is more than appalling! But then the theology of Bergoglio and his followers can be quite appalling! The authority of the Church comes from Christ, second Person of the Trinity, in his wholeness - and that starts by being Pantocrator, which makes his Passion and Death as Jesus of Nazareth, even more unique, without ever dimming or overshadowing the glory of his Resurrection which demonstrates that he is indeed Pantocrator.]
Apart from a Jesus Christ who is Pantocrator indeed, the authority of the Church that He established is effectively rendered nil, and the function of her sacred pastors is thus reduced to that of a therapist who is called to do little more than “accompany” sinners on the way to Hell.
And isn’t this exactly what is promoted in Amoris Laetitia as interpreted according to the explicit input of its author?
If one simply takes Francis at his word, it is evident [I would be less definitive and say 'it would seem..'] that he worships a false god of his own making – an itinerant first century doer of good deeds; a live-and-let-live liberal who judged nothing and no one, only to be left beaten, bloodied and belittled by those who hold earthly authority.
It is this paltry substitute for Christ the King that Francis urges his listeners to follow; as if the mission at hand primarily concerns finding a remedy to temporal poverty and social inequalities.
An honest appraisal of the last three-and-a-half years makes it difficult to deny that the lord of Bergoglianism bears a striking resemblance to Jesus as viewed through the eyes of most modern day self-described Jews; a rather well-meaning social worker with a revolutionary spirit, who, at the end of the day, was really just an ordinary man.
This, my friends, is the Christological heresy upon which Bergoglianism is founded; namely, a failure to recognize the Divinity of Our Lord. [I have not seen anything that directly suggests this, so far, even if Bergoglio now and then presumes to correct or edit what the Gospels tell us Jesus said. Maybe he thinks he can do that because technically, the words of Jesus reported by the Gospels are the words of Jesus of Nazareth, i.e., Jesus as human being - even if Jesus the man, the Word incarnate, cannot be separated from Jesus as God, second Person of the Trinity. As we pray in the sublime Preface of the Most Holy Trinity, "what we believe by the revelation of thy glory, the same we believe of thy Son, the same of the Holy Spirit, without difference or inequality...the true and everlasting Godhead, distinct in persons, one in essence and equal in majesty" (Never so beautiful as when chanted in Latin).
As I write, the dubia is front and center in the minds of most Catholics, and the questions that it poses can be summarized into just one: Do you, Francis, recognize the Divinity of Christ? [A question which Bergoglio should have no trouble answering on the spot, but someone with canonical standing should formally pose the question to him. A dubium cannot be formally presented in a blog!]
If the answer is clearly yes, then the five questions presented in the dubia would pose no difficulty whatsoever.
On the other hand, if the Pope cannot answer the DUBIA with a simple Yes or No, then Our Lord’s words concerning adultery would appear to be up for revision; likewise Catholic teaching concerning intrinsically evil acts as based upon Sacred Scripture and the Tradition of the Church would seem negotiable on a case-by-case basis.
In fact, it’s not difficult to imagine that presenting the dubia to one who doubts the Divinity of Christ just might be enough to render him boiling with rage.
[Modificato da TERESA BENEDETTA 27/11/2016 22:24]