Blessed are the Rabbits

To all of the Catholic mothers and fathers who have been faithful to the teachings of Holy Mother Church and taken on the sweet labor of bearing and rearing all the children with which God has seen fit to bless them, and who are perhaps troubled by the Pope's recent comments to the effect that we shouldn't "breed like rabbits," I offer you the following bouquet of consolation:

St. Catherine of Genoa, a fifth child

St. Thomas Aquinas, a sixth child

St. Therese of Lisieux, a ninth child

St. Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother, an eleventh child

Notable Mentions:

• St. Joan of Arc, one of five children.
• St. Bernadette of Lourdes, one of six children.
• St. Francis de Sales, one of six children.
• St. Charles Borromeo, one of six children.
• St. Hedwig, one of eight children.
• Pope St. Pius X, one of eleven children.
• St. Casimir of Poland, one of thirteen children.
• St. Louis de Montfort, one of eighteen children.

***UPDATE***

In the interest of fairness, it should be noted that the Holy Father has tempered somewhat the talk of "breeding like rabbits:" in his Wednesday audience, he praised "families who receive children as a real gift of God [who] know that every child is a benediction." Msgr. Anthony Figueiredo noted that the "breed like rabbits" remark was made by Pope Francis, Private Pastor - and not Pope Francis, Universal Pastor. I wonder which one is writing the upcoming encyclical....

The Religion of Peace: Freemasonry in Action

The Religion of Peace

While the most recent case of Islamic terrorism on European soil has once again provided us with a vivid example of Islam's propensity for bringing out the very worst in man, it simultaneously provides us with an excellent opportunity to reflect upon the concerted effort of global leaders to deflect all trace of culpability from the religion of Islam. Almost on cue, we heard phrases like:

• "Islam is a religion of peace." (U. K. Prime Minister David Cameron)
• "All of us recognize that this great religion, in the hands of a few extremists, has been distorted." (U.S. President Barack Obama)
• "Those who commit such acts have nothing to do with Islam." (French President François Hollande)
• "Authentic Islam and the proper reading of the Koran are opposed to every form of violence." (Pope Francis)

If you agree with this assessment - if you think that Islam really is a religion of peace, if you think that Islam is being distorted by a few extremists, if you think the Koran is actually opposed to violence, if you think there is no concerted effort by western politicians and media outlets to whitewash Islam - then I strongly suggest that you stop reading now, because chances are good that you're really going to dislike what's coming next.

For those of you who remain: Well done.

When a politician stands up and says that "Islam is a religion of peace," we often make the mistake of assuming that he's speaking to us, i.e. to members of the Christian West. He's not. We are not the target of this particular bit of propaganda, and - despite what certain conspiracy theorists might claim - he's not trying to make Islam more appealing to us. He's not even trying to prevent us from acting out in retaliation. While he certainly does not want us to do so, that's not the real reason for his many assurances that "Islam is a religion of peace." He's not talking to us at all. He's talking to them, i.e. to the millions of Muslims who live in our countries who call themselves Muslims and identify as such but know next to nothing about the Koran, who can't read Arabic, who rarely if ever visit a mosque, and who have never visited a Muslim-majority country. These individuals are the true target audience of the media propaganda slogan "Islam is a religion of peace." He's not insulting our intelligence, he's preying upon the ignorance of westernized Muslims in regards to their own religion. He's selling them what is ultimately a counterfeit Islam - a nebulously spiritualized secular humanism clothed in terms familiar to Muslims - and hoping to recruit them as allies in his war against the real Islam - the one that inspires men to murder, torture, rape and mutilate in the name of Allah.

But, you might ask, how could such a blatant deception ever hope to succeed? On its face, it seems almost farcical, not to mention hopelessly doomed to failure, as any of those nominal Muslims could very easily pick up a book - perhaps the Koran, perhaps a book of Hadith containing the words of Mohammed, perhaps the memoirs of any of his numerous companions - and learn what their religion actually teaches. There is 1,400-years-worth of literature written by Muslim scholars on the religion of Islam, much of which is freely available. Why on earth would they choose to believe these politicians - and the Muftis and Mullahs in their employ - over the very works they consider either divinely inspired or of impeccable authority?

That is an excellent question, gentle reader. Before we attempt to answer it, however, it is essential that we acknowledge that this strategy works. We know it works because it's already been done.

To us.

A century and a half ago, the Catholic Church was a virtual monolith of moral, social and economic arch-traditionalism. The Catholic man - and there were many in those days - prayed fervently for the social kingship of Christ to be publicly proclaimed, and worked vigorously to that end, in whatever station God had placed him. He was prepared to suffer greatly in giving witness to his faith in Christ and his loyalty to Christ's Church, and did so often. He prayed publicly for the conversion of all - of sinners, of Jews, of Pagans, of schismatics, heretics and apostates - to the One True Faith. He constructed great cathedrals of unparalleled beauty, gave generously to the poor and downtrodden, built hospitals, orphanages and schools at a rate outstripping that of any earthly government, and was regularly blessed with unparalleled fecundity of offspring. All these things made him dangerous in the eyes of the world - indeed, he was a subversive, a dissident, a troublemaker, for he was the sworn enemy of both the greedy capitalist and the covetous socialist, of both the intolerant fascist and the reckless libertarian, of both the dumb brute and the effeminate highbrow. And when he was refused political office, banned from worshiping in the public square and forced to live in the ghetto, then he strengthened his Catholic brethren from within the community, doubled his efforts in prayer and penance, and transformed the ghetto into an oasis of Catholic life. He bore the scorn, condemnation and persecution of morally corrupt parliaments and partisan presidents to which he was regularly subjected with heroic patience. He was a member of the Church Militant and very much at war with the world which rejected Christ and His Bride, the Catholic Church. He was, in short, radically Catholic.

Some will doubtless accuse me of looking at the past through rose-colored spectacles. Was there no corruption, no vice, no malfeasance in those days? Of course there was. We are sinners, all of us, in the eyes of God, and Catholics of any age are no exception. But I dare anyone to objectively compare the world of 1914 with the world of 2014 and conclude that we have, as a society, increased in moral goodness, in humanity, in beauty, in nobility, in freedom, in peace. On the contrary, everywhere traditional, radical Catholicism has retreated from the social domain, there moral depravity, inhumanity, ugliness, perversion, decadence, enslavement and war have taken root and thrived. When we hear the supposed custodians of culture praising the developments of the last 200 years as monuments to human progress and gushing with panglossianism in regards to the future, we must stop to ask exactly who is wearing the spectacles here.

As for the reasons for that retreat, we needn't look far. Authentic, radical Catholicism has been replaced with a pacified counterfeit Catholicism which differs from the counterfeit Islam being offered to so-called 'moderate' Muslims in nothing but the attenuated cultural packaging. It is, at its root, the very same nebulously spiritualized secular humanism - or, to use a term more familiar to traditional Catholics: it is the religion of the Masonic Lodge. As the infamous French Freemason Yves Marsaudon wrote some 50 years ago:

Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Israelites, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, free-thinkers, free-believers - to us, these are only first names. Freemasonry is the name of their family.

Some of you might be blissfully ignorant of the Catholic Church's long battle against Freemasonry. It might surprise you to learn that it was understood to pose such a terrible threat to true religion that no less than eight popes condemned it in the harshest of terms. In fact, it is still forbidden - on paper, at least - for a Catholic to be a member of a Masonic organization. Some of you might think that, if it existed at all, the effort by Masons to infiltrate the Catholic Church is a thing of the past. In a sense, you'd be right. Masons don't have to try infiltrate the Church any more, as proponents of this brand of spiritualized secular humanism hold key positions within the Catholic Church, and have done so for the last 50 years. These "agents of reform" have worked tirelessly to emasculate and corrupt the sensus fidei of the last three generations of Catholics so as to pacify them, to mollify them, to remove them as a threat to the World Order they are so feverishly working to bring about. As a result, vast segments of the Catholic population today are Catholic in nothing but name.

But, surely - you might object - surely someone would have noticed this. Surely one of these nominal Catholics would have picked up a book - perhaps the Bible, perhaps a work by one of the great Saints, perhaps a papal encyclical published before 1960 - and learned what the Catholic religion actually teaches. There is, after all, 2,000-years-worth of literature written by staunchly orthodox Catholic Fathers, Saints and Doctors, much of which is freely available. Why on earth would they choose to believe.... Oh, wait.

Which brings us back to our original question: Why would people choose a counterfeit over the real thing? The answer in both cases is the same: because they do not want the original. But - and this is key - the motivation in the two cases is diametrically opposite. Whereas "moderate" Muslims are eager to ignore the truth of Islam because they don't want the killing, the oppression, the barbarity, the cruelty, the misogyny - in short, the true face of radical Islam, "modern" Catholics are eager to ignore the truth of Catholicism because they don't want to be called to repentance, to mortification, to self-denial, to patience, to humility, to chastity, to charity - in short, the true face of radical Catholicism. In the former case, it is the vitality and strength of their humanity which blinds them to the truth; in the latter, it is the depravity and weakness of the same.

As for brushing up on authentic Catholic teaching regarding the nature of Islam or the person of Mohammed, I warmly recommend an article by Andrew Bieszad (MA in Islamic Studies from Hartford Seminary) entitled What Did the Saints Say about Islam? One of my personal favorites, St. Peter Mavimenus, tops the list. When asked to convert to Islam by a group of Muslims, he replied:

Whoever does not embrace the Catholic Christian faith is lost, like your false prophet Muhammad.

Unsurprisingly, that bit of wisdom cost him his head. I guess there were a few extremist Muslims distorting the peaceful message of Islam back in the 8th century, too.

Henry VIII and the Break with Rome

Seventh in a Series on the Protestant Reformation

by

Fr. Charles Coppens, S.J.

Henry VIII of England

England had been an integral portion of the Catholic Church since A.D. 596, at which date St. Austin, with his forty monks, arrived there on a mission from Pope Gregory the Great, and soon converted a large portion of the inhabitants. During the nine centuries that had since elapsed, piety had flourished in the land to such an extent that the country was fondly called by its people "the Dowry of Mary;" whereby they wished to signify that they were more devoted than most other nations to the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is so near and dear to her Divine Son. All the cities and towns contained substantial churches, many of them costly and beautiful, and from all of them rose one concordant voice of worship; from every pulpit the same doctrine was taught; and few persons there were in whose mind and heart religion did not hold an honored place.

Monasteries dotted the land, more than twenty to a county, homes of prayer, of learning and labor, from whose portals streams of charity and consolation ever poured forth to all the needy and afflicted of the neighborhood. And England was happy, happy in the blessings of time and of eternity; it was "merry England" then, but it is so no more. The Kingdom was powerful and prosperous, having a full treasury, an industrious, intelligent and contented people, at the time when our story begins, namely in 1509, when Henry VIII, then a most promising youth of eighteen years, succeeded his father, Henry VII, whose many good qualities had been somewhat dimmed by his well-known avarice.

The new King soon became the idol of his people. High ran the universal joy, when, but two months after his ascension to the throne, he was solemnly united in the holy bonds of matrimony to the virtuous princess Catherine, a daughter of Ferdinand, King of Castile and Aragon.

With this affectionate wife, he lived seventeen years, during which she bore him three sons and two daughters; but all these died in their infancy, except the princess Mary, who was afterwards Queen of England. In his public life he was generally reputed to be a model ruler, a model man and a model Christian. He had entered the lists as a foremost champion of the Catholic faith, by publishing a book in defense of the Seven Sacraments against the attacks of Luther, and he had obtained from Pope Leo X, in reward of his zeal, the title of "Defender of the Faith," which he was to wear till death, but which the Kings of England have unjustly retained to the present day. But in his private life, Henry wanted one important virtue; he was all along very unfaithful to his stainless spouse. When he was thirty-five years of age, Queen Catherine being then forty-three, he allowed himself to become infatuated with a young lady of twenty-two, the coquettish Anne Boleyn, and he put no check on his criminal passion. Of course, he could not marry her during the life-time of his lawful wife. It was secretly suggested to him by some flatterers that, with his powerful influence at Rome, he might perhaps obtain a separation from her, on the plea that she had formerly been married to his elder brother Arthur. But the latter had died when a mere boy of fourteen, and the marriage had never been consummated. Besides, whatever impediment existed had been removed by a formal dispensation of the Church before Henry's marriage.

However, in 1527 the King undertook to plead that this dispensation was invalid, that therefore Queen Catherine was not his lawful wife, and that his delicate conscience did not allow him to live with her. How hypocritical was this pretense is shown to evidence by many facts; in particular by his conduct during the epidemic called "the sweating sickness," which then visited England, and soon entered the royal palace. While he saw the danger of death before him, he became very pious, he confessed his sins every day, and received Holy Communion once a week; and during this season of piety he resumed his marital relations with the Queen until the plague was gone. Then he banished Catherine, recalled Anne Boleyn, and urged the suit for the divorce with renewed energy. But the Supreme Pontiff, Clement VII, thought at the time in extraordinary need of Henry's help against powerful enemies, remained firm during the five years that the divorce suit lasted, and finally refused any further litigation in the matter.

In that situation of affairs, an unprincipled courtier, Thomas Cromwell, made a wicked suggestion to the King, advising him to throw off the yoke of Rome, and to declare himself the head of the Church within his own realm; he could then appoint his own ecclesiastical court to dissolve the marriage; many princes in Germany had thus made themselves independent in spiritual things, and they had reaped a rich harvest in appointing to themselves the lands and buildings of the churches and monasteries.

The King was delighted with this counsel. He at once made Cromwell a member of his privy council, and followed his advice in all its details. For three years, he had secretly been living in adulterous union with Anne Boleyn, when, in 1533, her condition of pregnancy made it imperative that some decisive step should be taken to prevent public disgrace. Therefore, he married her privately on January 25, but it was given out that the ceremony had taken place on Nov. 24, 1532, because the child was born on September 7, less than eight months after the real nuptials. This child of sin was Elizabeth, who in course of time did probably more harm to England than anyone else has ever done, for she was the principal cause of establishing Protestantism in that land.

To bring about the divorce from Catherine, Henry appointed Thomas Cranmer to the Archbishopric of Canterbury, and made him the judge of the case, though the Pope had explicitly reserved the decision to himself. The servile court at last pronounced the sentence of divorce. Carnmer was well chosen for this disgraceful task, for he had himself, after ordination, secretly married a daughter of the Protestant leader, Osiander. Yet this is the infamous man who later on introduced the doctrine of the Reformers into England, and who composed the Book of Common Prayer.

On May 28, 1533, he solemnly declared that the King had been lawfully married to Anne Boleyn, and that he now confirmed the marriage by his pastoral and judicial authority, which he derived from the successors of the Apostles. And yet only four years later, May 28, 1537, this same man again openly and solemnly pronounced "in the name of Christ and for the honor of God," that this same marriage was an always had been null and void. For Henry had become suspicious of his new wife, he had consigned her to the tower and condemned her to death for adultery, and she was beheaded on the day after her divorce.

The Many Wives of Henry VIII

Only five months after this, on October 12, his third wife, Jane Seymour, brought forth his son, whe became later King Edward VI; the mother died in childbirth. His fourth wife was Anne of Cleves, but he soon divorced her, too, and he punished Cromwell with death for having promoted that marriage. He next espoused Catherine Howard, but her also he soon divorced, accusing her of adultery committed before her marriage, and he had her beheaded for constructive treason, as her supposed sin was called. His sixth wife, Catherine Parr, barely escaped the like fate for having presumed to differ from him on a religious question; but when the officers arrived to convey her to the tower, she had appeased his wrath by a most humble apology.

And yet this monstrous tyrant and scandalous adulterer is supposed by many simply folk to have been the chosen instrument of Providence for separating the English Church from dependence on the one pastor of the one fold. When a Pope is bad, he is an exception in his line; but with "Reformers," badness is the rule, and Christ assures us that the tree is known by its fruit.

When Cromwell had advised separation from Rome, in 1532, Henry had immediately accomplished the design. For he at once summoned a convocation of the clergy, and required of it a recognition of his supreme headship of the Church of England. The act was passed, with the clause added, "as far as the law of Christ will allow." By this clause, the terrified clergy tried to save their conscience; but it was ignored by the tyrant. At once, he appointed the layman Cromwell to be spiritual vicar-general of the realm, and thus he set him over all the bishops. Their powers were suspended, and each of them had to sue for faculties from the King to enable him to govern his flock. Bishops and parliament trembled before the tyrant, and became mere tools of his will. At his bidding, parliament passed bills for divorcing and beheading the Queens, for settling the succession to the throne as pleased him, for condemning anyone to death.

To resist his will was to court death, to court death requires a hero, and few courtiers of politicians are heroes. The lord-chancellor, Blessed Thomas More, and Blessed Cardinal Fisher, bishop of Rochester, boldly refused to take the oath of Henry's spiritual supremacy. They were cast into the Tower and beheaded for the faith. So were many religious and seculars, men and women. The religious houses were confiscated, first the smaller ones; these were charged with relaxation, but the larger ones were declared to be above reproach. Yet, soon after, the larger ones also were suppressed, and their land and treasure usurped to enrich the King and his flatterers, while the poor people who used to be supported by their charity were left to starve of want, and later on were branded with a red hot iron for begging their bread, or given over as slaves to whoever convicted them of vagrancy. It is hard to trace the finger of God in Henry's work, but it is easy to see in it the influence of the Devil, the world and the flesh.

Second Sunday after Epiphany

by

Fr. Leonard Goffine

Introit

Let all the earth adore Thee, O God and sing to Thee: let it sing a psalm to Thy name (Ps. 65:4). Shout with joy to God all the earth, sing ye a psalm to His name: give glory to His praise (Ps. 65:1-2).

Collect

Almighty and eternal God, Who disposest all things in heaven and on earth: mercifully hear the supplications of Thy people, and give Thy peace to our times.

Epistle (Rom.12:6-16)

Brethren: We have different gifts, according to the grace that is given us: either prophecy, to be used according to the rule of faith, or ministry in ministering, or he that teacheth in doctrine, he that exhorteth in exhorting, he that giveth with simplicity, he that ruleth with carefulness, he that sheweth mercy with cheerfulness. Let love be without dissimulation. Hating that which is evil, cleaving to that which is good: loving one another with the charity of brotherhood: with honor preventing one another: in carefulness not slothful: in spirit fervent: serving the Lord: rejoicing in hope: patient in tribulation: instant in prayer: communicating to the necessities of the saints: pursuing hospitality: bless them that persecute you: bless and curse not. Rejoice with them that rejoice, weep with them that weep: being of one mind, one towards another: not minding high things, but consenting to the humble. Be not wise in your own conceits.

Explanation

St. Paul in this epistle exhorts every Christian to make good use of the gifts of God; if one receives an office, he must see well to it, so that he can give an account to God of the faithful performance of his duties. He exhorts especially to brotherly love which we should practice by charitable works; such as, receiving strangers hospitably, giving alms to those who are in need, and to those who by misfortune or injustice have lost their property; he commands us, at the same time, to rejoice in the welfare of our neighbor, as we rejoice at our own good fortune, and to grieve at his misfortunes as we would over those which befall us.

Q. How is brotherly love best preserved?

A. By the virtue of humility which makes us esteem our neighbor above ourselves, consider his good qualities only, bear patiently his defects, and always meet him in a friendly, respectful, and indulgent manner. Humility causes us to live always in peace with our fellow men, while among the proud, where each wishes to be the first, there is continual strife and dissatisfaction (Prov. 13:10).

Aspiration

Grant us, O Lord, Thy grace, that according to Thy will, we may follow the instructions of St. Paul in regard to humility and love, have compassion upon all suffering and needy, think little of ourselves, and descend to the lowest, that we may, one day, be elevated with them in heaven.

Gospel (Jn. 2:1-11)

At that time there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee: and the mother of Jesus was there. And Jesus also was invited, and his disciples, to the marriage. And the wine failing, the mother of Jesus saith to him: They have no wine. And Jesus with to her: Woman, what is it to me and to thee? my hour is not yet come. His mother saith to the waiters: Whatsoever he shall say to you, do ye. Now there were set there six water-pots of stone, according to the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three measures apiece. Jesus saith to them: Fill the water-pots with water. And they filled them up to the brim. And Jesus saith to them: Draw out now, and carry to the chief steward of the feast. And they carried it. And when the chief steward had tasted the water made wine, and knew not whence it was, but the waiters knew who had drawn the water; the chief steward calleth the bridegroom, and saith to him: Every man at first setteth forth good wine; and when men have well drank, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now. This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee: and manifested his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

Q. Why was Christ and His mother present at this marriage?

A. In order to honor this humble and God-fearing couple who, with faithful hearts, had invited Him and His mother to their wedding; to give us an example of humility; to assist them in their poverty, and save their good name by changing water into wine; to reveal His dignity as the Messiah to His disciples by this miracle; and to sanctify by His presence the marriages that are contracted in the spirit of the Church. Alas! How few marriages of our time could Jesus honor with His presence, because He is invited neither by fervent prayer, nor by the chaste life of the couple: He is excluded rather, by the frequent immorality of the married couple and their guests.

Q. Why was Mary interested in this married couple?

A. Because she is merciful, and the Mother of Mercy, and willingly assists all the poor and afflicted who fear God. From this incident, St. Bonaventure judges of the many graces which we can hope for through Mary, now that she reigns in heaven; "For," says he, "if Mary while yet on earth was so compassionate, how much more so is she now, reigning in heaven!" He gives the reason by adding: "Mary now that she sees the face of God, knows our necessities far better than when she was on earth, and in proportion to the increase of her compassion, her power to aid us has been augmented." Ah! why do we not take refuge in all our necessities to this merciful mother, who although unasked assists the needy?

Q. Why did Christ say to Mary: "Woman, what is it to me and to thee?"

This seemingly harsh reply of Christ was no reproach, for Mary had made her request only through love and mercy, and Christ calls those blessed who are merciful, but he wished to show that in the performance of divine work, the will of His heavenly Father alone should be consulted. He meant to remind her that He had not received the gift of miracles from her as the son of woman, but from His eternal Father, in accordance with whose will He would do that which she asked when the hour designed by God would come. Though the hour had not come, yet He granted the wish of His mother, who knew that her divine Son refused none of her requests, and so she said to the servants: "Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye." Behold the great power of Mary's intercession! Neglect not, therefore, to take refuge in this most powerful mother!

Q. What are we taught by the words: "My hour is not yet come?"

A. These words teach us that we should in all things await God's appointed time, and in things belonging to God and His honor, act only by divine direction, without any human motives.

Q. What does the scarcity of wine signify?

A. In a spiritual sense, the want of wine may be understood to signify the lack of love between married people, which is principally the case with those who enter this state through worldly motives, for the sake of riches, beauty of person, or who have before marriage kept up sinful intercourse. These should ask God for the forgiveness of their sins, bear the hardships of married life in the spirit of penance, and change the wrong motives they had before marriage; by doing so God will supply the scarcity of wine, that is the lack of true love, and change the waters of misery into the wine of patient affection.

Q. Why did Christ command them to take the wine to the steward?

A. That the steward, whose office required him to be attentive to the conduct of the guests, and to know the quality of the wine, should give his judgment in regard to the excellence of this, and be able to testify to the miracle before all the guests.

Aspiration

O my most merciful Jesus! I would rather drink in this world the sour wine of misery than the sweet wine of pleasure, that in heaven I may taste the perfect wine of eternal joy.

The Eucharist: A Commemoration of Christ's Passion and Death

Third in a Series on the Reasons of the Eucharist

by

Fr. Albert Tesnière, S.S.S.

Dominus Est!

THESIS

The Eucharist Keeps the Remembrance of the Passion and Death of the Saviour alive in the World.

ADORATION

It is an article of faith that the Eucharist was instituted by Our Lord Jesus Christ to perpetuate the memory of His passion and of His death, consequently of the love which made Him accept the one and the other for our salvation. "Do this for a commemoration of Me," the Saviour said when, as it were, annihilating under the appearance of bread and wine His body and His blood, and when burying Himself wholly in the shroud of the sacred species. St. Paul also said, according to the revelation which the Lord had made to him in person: "For as often as you shall eat this bread and drink the chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come."

It is in fact a matter of great importance that the memory of the death of Jesus should always be kept alive amongst men, because only by the invocation of the suffering Christ and the application of the merits of His death can we be saved. Besides, death embraced for those whom we love being the greatest proof of love, Jesus, who knows that our hearts cannot be really gained except by His love, wills that the testimony and the manifestation which He gave of it in His passion should always be present before our eyes.

The Eucharist then ought to repeat to all men in all centuries that Jesus suffered and died for them. How does it accomplish this mission? By showing the death of Jesus every day, as is done in the holy Mass, where the priest calls down from the height of heaven, by the all-powerful words of the consecration, the living and triumphant Christ, and encloses Him, as it were, devoid of movement, devoid of speech, and devoid of life, in the inert bonds of the Eucharistic species. Is not then the divine Saviour in a state like unto death? He is here, under the Eucharistic veils, in the perfect possession of His life of Man-God; faith teaches us that since His resurrection Christ can no more die. But what is it, then, to possess life and not to be able to perform any exterior act, not to be able to give any sensible proof of it? It is to be in a state similar to death, to be in the condition like unto a corpse. Such is Jesus in the Sacrament; as such He appears and shows Himself. In order to comprehend it, it is only necessary to believe and to see; to believe that, beneath the veils of the Sacrament, the Son of God, made man, resides, and to see that there is no trace whatever of anything which we call life. Neither freedom of motion to go from one place to another, nor to fly from His enemies; nor speech by which to converse with His friends, or to call for help when He is profaned, nor power to perform any exterior action, not even the form, or human appearance, which enables us to distinguish a human being - nothing!

He is given up, as He was during His Passion, to the will of those who keep Him in custody; in the chains of powerlessness; nailed upon the cross, unrecognizable, to such a degree that even His friends might say with the prophet, "I have seen the consecrated host, and nothing, nothing whatever has permitted me to distinguish it from another." Could the Saviour better perpetuate the memory of His passion and of His death on Calvary than by this state of death?

Adore, then, in the Sacrament, this divine, patient victim, this meek, crucified one; never look at the sacred host without recalling to yourself Jesus crowned with thorns, nailed upon the cross and expiring for love of us.

THANKSGIVING

In recalling to mind the passion of the Saviour, the Eucharist by that very fact recalls also the memory of the infinite love which led Him to embrace it, the sweet patience with which He bore it, and the merciful pardon which He bestowed upon His executioners and upon all sinners in general.

This love, which led Him to embrace the dreadful torments of His passion and the ignominious death of the cross, when He had in His power a thousand other means wherewith to satisfy the justice of His Father - do you not see that same love shine with added splendor in the Eucharist, where Jesus, without being obliged to do so, but spontaneously and only for our good, delivers Himself up to us forever, wholly, without reserve and without condition? Do you not feel His tender, loving kindness pierce like a sunbeam through a cloud, rendering the Sacrament so healing to the distractions of your mind, the coldness of your heart, the irreverence of your dissipated senses, the tepidity of your whole life? And does He not there pardon all who betray Him, maltreat and profane Him, as He did Judas in the garden, Peter in the court of the Pretorium, and His executioners on Calvary? The silence of the host, so meek and so humble, is a prayer which continues throughout the ages the sublime pardon of Calvary: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Take delight in and enjoy the loving kindness of the Sacrament, that you may understand and find delight in the loving kindness of Jesus in His Passion.

REPARATION

In order to be assuredly convinced that the Eucharist perpetuates the passion and the death of the Saviour, see if Jesus be not in it the victim of the same treacheries, of the same violence, of the same humiliations. The sight will excite in your souls that compassion which the Saviour so greatly desires to receive from those for whose sake He gave Himself up.

Treason: - is it not betraying the Eucharist as Judas did, if it be received with a soul stained with mortal sin? Is it not to betray it like Peter, if it be disowned in the practice of life, whether it be in presence of a mocking glance, or whether it be to avoid an injury or a sacrifice? Violence: - tabernacles profaned, hosts trodden under foot, given up to the sacrilegious treatment of infidels, pierced or covered with filthy spittle; did Jesus endure more than this in His Passion? Humiliation: - the smiles of the incredulous, the blasphemies of the impious, the ignorance of so many Christians; the ingratitude of so many others, the scandalous falls of certain of His friends. Ignominies: - the guilty negligence, the habitual irreverence, the carelessness and impropriety which border upon contempt and too closely recall to mind Caiaphas, Herod, and Pilate, the insulting genuflections of the Pretorium, the crown of thorns, and the reed; is not all this the Passion?

Henceforth let pious women still draw near and weep over the patient victim of the Sacrament; let Veronica wipe His face and lift Him up from His ignominy; let Simon help to carry His cross and let John stand at the foot of the cross; let Mary be there to compassionate Him and to suffer in her heart, through sympathy, all that He suffers Himself. The Saviour, continuing to endure the same Passion, is in need of the same sympathy.

PRAYER

The remembrance of the passion and of the death of the Saviour is holiness, is consolation, is strength, is salvation; but in order to be all this, it is requisite that the memory of it should be so profoundly impressed on the mind, so sufficiently present to the spirit, so powerful enough to attach us to Jesus Christ, as to make us hate sin and fly from the occasion of it.

It is in order to give to the mystery of His Passion all its efficacy that the Saviour perpetuates Himself in so loving a manner in the Eucharist. Ask the Sacrament, then, to produce in you this effect of its institution; ask it as the fruit of the Communion when you receive it, of the Mass when you assist at it, of the hour of adoration which you will do well often to renew, whilst feeling all its importance.

PRACTICE

Apply, in your ordinary meditation, the circumstances of the Passion to the Eucharistic state of the Saviour, that you may derive more fruit from it.

Vital Immanence Revisited

We've been here before....

Regular readers of this blog will recall an article published here some days ago entitled Change We Can Believe In? In it, I provided a very brief account of the historical origins of Pentecostalism, the general condemnation of the notion of a 'New Pentecost' issued by Pope Leo XIII in 1897, and the gradual acceptance of that same movement by modern Catholics in the wake of the Second Vatican Council. Either by mutual enrichment or by chance, the matter of this New Pentecostalism was subsequently treated by fellow blogger S. Armaticus over at Deus Ex Machina in an article which ended with the following observation:

The fascination that Bergoglio and the neo-modernists have with evangelical Pentecostalism is likely grounded in the fact that, since their neo-modernist theology is a purely negative thesis, with no attractive force of its own, and the adaptation of this negative theology is causing the death of their ecclesiastical structure, they are attracted to the evangelical Pentecostalism due to its "positive" i.e. "attractivistic contents". [...] These Pentecostal ideas are not correct, but at least they say something substantial. Or, in the worst case scenario, Pentecostalism says something more substantial than neo-modernism.

That paragraph stuck in my mind, as it echoed something I remembered having read somewhere before, but I couldn't quite put my finger on the source. Regular readers will have picked up by now that this kind of thing happens to me quite often.

A few days later, blogger Stefan Schwarz directed my attention to a video of a presentation given by Fr. Paul Scalia entitled The Errors of Modernism. At about the 17 minute mark, I remembered whence the original observation regarding the negative and positive content of Modernism came - Pope St. Pius X's encyclical Pascendi:

However, this Agnosticism is only the negative part of the system of the Modernist: the positive side of it consists in what they call Vital Immanence.

Suddenly, everything I had been suspecting regarding the role of the "New Pentecost" and its most avid proponents fell into place: I was staring into the new face of Vital Immanence.

It was, of course, Pope St. Pius X who alerted the Catholic world to the heretical doctrine of Vital Immanence and its central role in Modernist thought. Many definitions of this doctrine have been formulated over last century following the publication of Pascendi, but that proposed by Salusbury F. Davenport is perhaps the most relevant to the heresy's present manifestation:

[Vital Immanence] is the wholly psychological process of the human consciousness unfolding itself, which has not the remotest likeness to the presence of a transcendent reality abiding within us. God as transcendent is lost to sight; no room is left for any kind of revelation; God is the permanent possibility of progress, He is ever projected as the ideal in advance of each successive stage of evolution and changes as the advance proceeds. (Immanence and Incarnation, p. 68)

Replace "God" with "Holy Spirit," and we have before us the (logically) positive element of the New Pentecost viewed objectively: the Holy Spirit is the agent of change and reform. As Fr. Peter Knott, S.J., a proponent of the "Holy Spirit, God of Surprises" theology, remarked in his book, The Keys to the Council:

Authentic reform and renewal will always be a response to the promptings of the Spirit in ever-changing historical and cultural contexts.

Unsurprisingly, one of Pope Francis' favorite homiletic themes is that of the Holy Spirit as the Divine agent of change:

• The Holy Spirit upsets us because it moves us, it makes us walk, it pushes the Church forward. [...] The Spirit pushes us to take a more evangelical path, but we resist this. [...] Submit to the Holy Spirit, which comes from within us and makes go forward along the path of holiness. (16.04.2013)
• This is the temptation to go backwards, because we are 'safer' going back: but total security is in the Holy Spirit that brings you forward, which gives us this trust - as Paul says - which is more demanding because Jesus tells us: "Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law." It is more demanding! (06.12.2013)
• The Holy Spirit is the living presence of God in the Church. He keeps the Church going, keeps the Church moving forward. More and more, beyond the limits, onwards. The Holy Spirit with His gifts guides the Church. You cannot understand the Church of Jesus without this Paraclete, whom the Lord sends us for this very reason. And He makes unthinkable choices, but unimaginable! To use a word of St. John XXIII: it is the Holy Spirit that updates the Church: Really, he really updates it and keeps it going. And we Christians must ask the Lord for the grace of docility to the Holy Spirit. Docility in this Spirit, who speaks to us in our heart, who speaks to us in all of life's circumstances, who speaks to us in the Church's life, in Christian communities, who is always speaking to us. (12.05.2014)

Subjectively viewed, however, the positive element of Vital Immanence - the New Pentecost - is a personal experience of the Divine, hinted at by Pope Francis above in his description of the Holy Spirit as that "which comes from within us." Fr. Paul Scalia describes it as follows:

Religion, for the Modernist, is nothing more than a manifestation of this presence of the Divine to each person. It is radically individualistic. It is the presence of the Divine in each one of us which stirs up and makes some sentiment felt. This is what Cardinal Newman calls a "sentiment" and a "taste." Vital Immanence makes religion - in the words of Fr. John Hardon - "a kind of motion of the heart, hidden and unconscious, [...] a natural instinct belonging to the emotions, a feeling for the Divine that cannot be expressed in words of doctrinal propositions because it has no intellectual content to express, [...] an outlook of spirit that all people naturally have but some are more aware of having."

Pope St. Pius X describes the same with characteristic clarity:

For the Modernist Believer, [...] it is an established and certain fact that the Divine Reality does really exist in itself and quite independently of the person who believes in it. If you ask on what foundation this assertion of the Believer rests, they answer: in the experience of the individual. On this head the Modernists differ from the Rationalists only to fall into the opinion of the Protestants and pseudo-mystics. This is their manner of putting the question: In the religious sentiment one must recognize a kind of intuition of the heart which puts man in immediate contact with the very reality of God, and infuses such a persuasion of God's existence and His action both within and without man as to excel greatly any scientific conviction. They assert, therefore, the existence of a real experience, and one of a kind that surpasses all rational experience. If this experience is denied by some, like the rationalists, it arises from the fact that such persons are unwilling to put themselves in the moral state which is necessary to produce it. It is this experience which, when a person acquires it, makes him properly and truly a believer. (Pascendi, §14)

It should now be clear why Pope Francis regularly chastises certain segments of his flock for "lacking faith," for "failing to respond" to the "promptings of the Holy Spirit," for lacking "docility" to the Spirit which "speaks to us from within", "driving us forward" and "demanding" that we "abandon the false security" of things like defined dogma and adherence to Church law. He rails against them because they are holding fast to notions of God, Revelation, and Church which are simply incompatible with the New Pentecost. They are, after all, Catholics.

Origin of Calvinism

Sixth in a Series on the Protestant Reformation

by

Fr. Charles Coppens, S.J.

John Calvin, ca. 1560

John Calvin was a very different character from Martin Luther. Like one another in their uncommon power of intellect and strength of will, in their rejection of all authority on earth that claimed to control their independent thought, speech and action - these two standard-bearers of the Reformation were in most other respects the opposites of each other.

Luther was by nature and principle a destroyer and disorganizer in religion and morality, fond of breaking through all bonds, of throwing down all bars for himself and for other men generally; Calvin, on the contrary, had a remarkable genius for organization, and delighted in imposing bonds. He built up a novel structure of dogma and morals, tightening the yoke on the multitude, but releasing himself and a few elect souls from all fear of future punishment. We shall understand this better when we shall get acquainted with his personal history.

Calvin was born at Moyen, in Picardy, France, on July 10, 1509, when Luther, as a young monk, was beginning his professorial career at the University of Wittenberg. His father was a faithful Christian, blessed with a good wife and six children, but not with ample means for their support. Of the children, John was the most talented and the most ambitious. In the same town, the noble family of Mommors, with a charity common in Catholic times, took him into their home to be educated with their own children by a private tutor. When he was twelve years old, they sent him with two of their own sons to Paris, where John was to continue his studies for the priesthood.

While attending lectures at the great Paris University, the poor boy was lodged and supported gratis by his paternal uncle, Richard, who made an honest living as a locksmith. The boy was thus described by an early writer:

His body was dry and slender, but he already exhibited a sharp and vigorous intellect, prompt at repartee, bold in attack. He was great at fasting, he spoke but little; his language was serious and always to the point. He entered seldom into company and sought retirement.

Meanwhile, the errors of Luther, his fierce assaults on the Pope, his condemnation of penance and morals restraints, etc., had begun to attract public attention in France, and was creating a wild excitement, particularly among the students of the Paris University. Calvin was soon infected with the new spirit. While his good Uncle Richard daily attended Mass, abstained from flesh meat every Friday and Saturday, and piously told his beads daily, John had begun to scoff at such devout practices. For, already at 14, he had read some of Luther's books; he had admitted doubt and then proud contempt into his conceited mind. The influence of his principle professor at the time was in favor of the novel errors, and soon the boy was no longer a Catholic except in name.

Still, he found it his interest to conceal his sentiments, and at the age of 19, having been enrolled among the clergy by receiving the tonsure, he obtained a considerable ecclesiastical benefice, which enabled him to live on the Church without discharging any sacred duties. He never recevied the priesthood nor even the Minor Orders, though he held the title of pastor of a considerable parish.

For a while, he studied law at Orleans, where, under the tuition of an excellent master, he greatly improved in logical thought and trenchant expression; but he was never unpopular among his fellow students, with whom his habit of fault-finding earned for him the sobriquet of "the accusative case." Next, he studied at Bourges, where he made the acquaintence of Beza, Wolmar and other enthusiastic admirers of Luther. Thence he returned to Paris to complete his theological course, living all along on the income of a Church benefice, while he was maturing in his active mind the plan of his heretical system of predestination. While he paused on the brink of the precipice, he was a prey to racking torments of conscience.

At last, his mind was made up, for, to use his own words: "God, by a sudden conversion, subdued his heart and made it docile." From Audin's Life of Calvin we are led to conceive the genesis of his system in this way. He had a powerful intellect, and an iron will to execute whatever he resolved upon; but he had no love of any person but himself, no kindness, no tenderness, no pity on the miserable. Being such, he formed to himself a conception of God after his own image and likeness, a God all intellect and strength of will, but wanting in the element of goodness. This God, in Calvin's system, created the world simply to exercise His arbitrary power, without any regard to the happiness of His creatures. Some of these He predestined to be saved, happy forever, others to be lost in endless woe; without leaving any influence on their lot to either the elect of the reprobate. To the elect. God gives sooner or later an intimate conviction of their election; this pledge, once received, can never be lost. Calvin calls this conviction "faith," taking this word in a novel sense of his own. This faith prompts the happy recipients of it to lead holy lives. Those who have it not are a mass of damnation; they have nothing to gain by the practice of virtue, but they should be kept in order by the elect, by force if necessary.

Calvin, while still openly professing the Catholic religion, held conventicles at night with his secret followers, whom he indoctrinated with his new tenets. His position became dangerous. So, he sold his ecclesiastical benefice and fled to the court of Navarre, where Queen Margaret patronized the Reformation. In that kingdom, he composed the gospel of his sect, which he entitled The Christian Institutes.

We can best understand the spirit of his teachings by seeing how he reduced it to practice during the twenty-two years from 1542 to 1564, while he was all-powerful in Geneva, Switzerland. Considering himself and his partisans as the elect of God, he looked down contemptuously upon the "Libertines," as he styled the unconverted Genevese, just as the Pharisees of old used to look down upon the Publicans. In the spirit of Phariseeism, he enacted a code of the most rigid morality, and he organized a consistory to enforce it on the people. Geneva had been for generations a city of comfort, of cheerfulness and moderate conviviality, of simple pleasures and happiness. The new code abolished all public amusements, all games, all dances, all that had the appearance of frivolity. Domiciliary visits were instituted and various inquisitorial measures were taken to watch the conduct of every citizen. Offences against sanctimonious decorum, and against the very appearance of vanity, were severely punished. Thus we read that a lady was put in prison for having arranged her hair too coquettishly, so was her chambermaid for having assisted her. Imprisonment was inflicted on merchants for playing cards, on peasants for using rude language to their oxen, on burghers, for not extinguishing their lamps in the evening at the appointed hour. Such was the origin of that legislation which caused his followers in English-speaking lands to be called "Puritans," from the external purity of morals which they affected.

Calvin crushed all opposition by the severest punishments. Every word uttered against him was a crime, of which banishment was a common penalty. James Grunet, whom Calvin in open council had called a dog, and who, thus provoked, had written some threatening words against the dictator, was punished with death. All the world knows how he caused Servetus to be seized and condemned for having published, though in another land, some heretical theses against the Holy Trinity, and history blames Calvin for the public burning of the stranger.

The worst feature of Calvanism is that it presents the great, good God as an odious tyrant. What human heart can love a heartless autocrat? In our day, a strong revulsion against this leading feature of Calvanism has caused some branches of that unfortunate system to revise their creed, and return in part to the ancient doctrines of the Catholic Church.