Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Put not your trust...


The last--and most important--thing to remember about this crisis is that no one is going to come to your rescue. If the last few years have shown you nothing else, you should have learned that.

The panicky protestation of loyalty to the pontifical person after L'Affaire Weinandy shows that the jig is up. The papal cult of personality will not be challenged in any way, no matter what he does. 

You are on your own. Find whatever ecclesial shelter you can, employ a spiritual jammer against the endless chatter of progress and hope for the best--which, in this case, is that God, in His own good time, will come to the aid of His Church. No earthly prince is going to fight for her. None of them are even going to clear their throats for her. Thus, there isn't going to be gallant defense of "the real remnant Church" by courageous prelates against the metastasizing errors that one can rally around.

Why? Well, it's similar to the reason that you cannot count on being rescued from muggers by valiant unicorns clad in shimmering mithril barding.

Right now, this is all there is. We're stuck in the slough of despond because of two sets of people who must know better, but act like they do not: (1) people who confuse pontifical utterances with Catholicism and (2) those who think the clock can be run out while they remain silent for institutional reasons. 
The problems with the hapless positivism of the former have been dealt with at length here, and deserve no further consideration. 

The problem with the latter is this: you can't run out the clock if you don't have the ball.

So, nothing is going to get better. The fuses of process-starting are lit, the next conclave is being packed and new bishops receptive to the god of surprises are being appointed.

Winter is here, and the chalice must be drunk to the bitter, spittle-clogged dregs. 

I wish I could tell you something more cheery, but the last few years have also demonstrated that optimism is not only not a Christian virtue, but it's for suckers. Grab hold of the Cross and the real hope it represents.

Friday, December 15, 2017

Meh. You know how it's all going.

Those who see the unfolding destruction see it, and those will not, won't. 

But make no mistake--you will be made to decide.

Even those who just want to keep their heads down until "things blow over."

They won't. 

The frenzied chant of "Forward, always forward!" and the insistence on process-starting can never "blow over."

And nothing is safe from the regime of mercy's caustic solvents.  

Keep comforting yourself with hyper-parsing distinctions and "Oh, he hasn't changed any doctrine" or "translation error" or "not official" and all the other quasi-scholastic cant that has been uttered since he and his St. Gallen confreres appeared on the balcony. All of which sounds like insisting on continuing with a formal debate whilst the ship is listing more and more to the port side.

In the meantime, the storm rages unabated.

Happy Advent.

And it's November.

  I look forward to making some kind of effigy of 2022 and setting it on fire on December 31.  Things have steadified, to coin a term. My so...