Eduard Perrone, "A Pastor's Descant" (Assumption Grotto News, October 15, 2017):
The saintly priest, learned theologian, and catechist extraordinaire, Fr. John A. Hardon, was fond of saying that without an intense, devout life Catholics will not survive the age. I admit that at the time I thought this a ruse to shock his audience into taking their faith seriously. The longer I live in this age, however, the more I become convinced that this priest got it right. In recent decades we've seen great numbers of Catholics cease to practice their faith while others have exited the Church for small community non-denominational churches or trendy mega-churches that offer swingin' and swayin' worship services with an appealing "prosperity" message. I've heard many a sorrow-laden complaint from Catholics who have lost family members or relatives to such groups. It seems that no family has been wholly exempt from the defection. I did a little checking among my own family and close relatives to see how things stacked up in this regard. In a fast count from a pool of 52 family members and close relatives on my mother's side only (my siblings and their children, uncles, aunts, and first cousins), there were only 20 out of 52 still practicing the Catholic faith in which they were reared and living in a Christian manner.
These facts may make us wonder about many things. First, of the necessity of faith in Christ and of keeping His commandments. Without whole-hearted acceptance of all that Christ has revealed by His Church and without a state of grace, one cannot hope to be saved. Then, about the Church. It is by definition one, founded by our Lord: "Upon this rock I will build My Church" with Peter as its rock foundation (Mt 16:18). It is this Church which holds the true doctrine of Christ since it alone is "the pillar and bulwark of the truth" (1 Tim 3:15). Christ's apostles and their line of successors were handlers-on (transmitters) of 'tradition,' that is, of their authority, powers, the truth and the practices they received from Christ. Efforts to deviate from that apostolic inheritance were made from the earliest days of the Church. Thus were the faithful flock warned of those who would deceive and mislead the flock, false teachers and false prophets (Mt 24:24; 2 Tim 4:3-4), those "even of your own number" who would "draw away the disciples after them" (Acts 20:30). On account of the ever present danger of being misled and of departing from truth, Saint Paul admonished succeeding generations of the Church to "guard the truth that has been entrusted to you" (2 Tim 1:14) and to "hold to the traditions which you were taught by us, either by word of mouth of by [written] letter" (2 Thes 2:15).
The Catholic Church is the only Church which has existed uninterruptedly from apostolic times, unbroken in historical continuity. This is an indisputable fact. You will find the Catholic Church in every year since the first day of the Christian era. While the church as Christ's body has matured and organically grown in acquiring a greater clarity in its beliefs (the creed), in a more developed way of celebrating the Christian "mysteries" (the liturgy and the sacraments), and in a worldwide institutional expansion, yet she has remained true to her divine charter, being essentially as she has always been from the beginning and as she is destined to remain until the Lord returns.
The claim is made, of course, that the Catholic Church at some point erred and went astray from what Christ had intended from the beginning. [But] with the publication and now easy availability of the Fathers of the Church (and especially of the Apostolic Fathers -- those who immediately succeeded the apostles) and other early Church writings, it is clear for anyone who would care to investigate the matter that the early Church is the same Catholic Church we know today in all essential aspects. From these documents we learn many things: how Mass was said and the sacraments celebrated; the deeper theological understanding of the faith revealed in time by the Holy Spirit (who "will teach you all things, and bring to remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:26) and which was formulated in the ancient creedal statements; how holy orders were transmitted from bishop to bishop, and from bishop to priest; etc. Only the Catholic Church did all these things from the beginning of the Christian era and only she continues to do them faithfully.
The problem of defection from the true Church and from its faith plagued the Church from its earliest days. Already in the Book of Revelation we find mention of a sect known as the Nicolaitans (e.g. 2:6). St. Paul wrote against the beliefs of the Gnostics. Aberrant sects claiming to be some manner or other of 'church' apart from the unique historical body of the Catholic Church are fraudulent. There can't be a 'spontaneous generation' of a new Christian body claiming to be in any sense authentic. There must be, and is, but 'one body, one Spirit, one hope, one faith, one baptism, one God' (cf. Eph 4:4-5).
Of course, in our families there are those who are simply non-practitioners, those who still regard themselves as Catholics but who can't be bothered going to Sunday Mass or to Confession. Our Lord warned that the way to salvation was a narrow one, that few would find it (Mt 7:14), and that when He would return to earth there might be but a few who would have kept the faith (cf. Lk 18:8).
there are many diverse reasons why people cease to practice the Catholic faith or who leave holy Church for something other. The lure of sensuality and worldliness -- always a powerful force -- is not to be discounted. There's also the scandalous lives of bad Catholics which are discouraging; the incredible permissive things we now hear coming from Rome, from certain bishops, "theologians," and priests; the fallout from the clergy scandals of recent times; the enormous ignorance of Catholics about their faith and their history; the irreverent way priests and laity deport themselves at Mass such as to belie the doctrines of the Real Presence and the sacrificial nature of the Mass; the great number of divorces with remarriages of Catholics outside the Church; the Church's condemnation of all forms of artificial birth control; the circulation of the pernicious teaching that "one religion is as good as another" (indifferentism). Take all these things together and ... voilà! ... you have all that's needed for a great exodus from the true Church.
Christ is not indifferent about truth, about fidelity to the practice of the faith, or about His Church. The only Church which has perdured through the centuries since the time of its founding is the one, true Church of Christ: the Catholic Church, a truth "which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny."
Fr. Perrone
P.S. Today, Sunday, marks the fourth anniversary of my Mother's death. Mom and Dad were devout believers both. How profoundly grateful I am for the faith my parents passed on to me! I pray for them and I pray to them for the return of our family members who have strayed from the one truth Catholic Church.
Charles J. Chaput, Strangers in a Strange Land: Living the Catholic Faith in a Post-Christian World (2017), Chapter 1, "Resident Aliens" (comments mine):
In a democracy, political legitimacy comes from the will of sovereign individuals. Their will is expressed through elected representatives. Anything that interferes with their will, anything that places inherited or unchosen obligations on the individual -- except for the government itself -- becomes the target of suspicion. [Which is why the Principle of Subsidiarity articulated by Pope Pius XI in Quadragesimo anno (1931) is so important, like the Kuyperian concept of Sphere Sovereignty of 'Intermediary Institutions.']
To protect the sovereignty of individuals, democracy separates them from one another. And to achieve that, the state sooner or later seeks to break down any relationship or entity that stands in its way. That includes every kind of mediating institution, from fraternal organizations to synagogues and churches, to the family itself. This is why Alexis de Tocqueville, the great French observer of early American life, said that "despotism, which is dangerous at all times, [is] particularly to be feared in democratic centuries."
Tocqueville saw that the strength of American society, the force that kept the tyrannical logic of democracy in creative check, was the prevalence and intensity of religious belief. Religion is to democracy as a bridle is to a horse. Religion moderates democracy because it appeals to an authority higher than democracy itself.
But religion only works its influence on democracy if people really believe what it teaches. Nobody believes in God just because it's socially useful. To put it in Catholic terms, Christianity is worthless as a leaven in society unless people actually believe in Jesus Christ, follow the Gospel, love the Church, and act like real disciples. If they don't, then religion is just another form of self-medication. And unfortunately, that's how many of us live out our Baptism.
Until recent decades, American culture was largely Protestant. That was part of the country's genius. But it also meant that Catholics and other minorities lived through long periods of exclusion and prejudice. The effect of being outsiders has always fueled a Catholic passion to fit in, to find a way into the mainstream, to excel by the standards of the people who disdain us. Over time, we Catholics have succeeded very well -- evidently too well. And that very success has weakened any chance the Church had to seize a "Catholic moment" when Catholics might fill the moral hole in our culture created by the collapse of a Protestant consensus.
As a result, Tocqueville's fear about democracy without religious constraints -- what he called its power to kill souls and prepare citizens for servitude -- is arguably where we find ourselves today...."
I read the novel Silence by the Japanese Catholic author, Shusaku Endo, years ago when I lived in Japan. He's called the "Japanese Graham Greene." With good reason. Like Greene, he's a darn good novelist. Also like Greene, his Catholicism in his writings is ambiguous. I don't hold that against him as a novelist. Some of my favorite Catholic novelists are also ambiguous about the Catholic faith in their writings, even though they are clearly and intentionally Catholic, like Walker Percy or Evelyn Waugh.
I read many, many reviews of Martin Scorsese's film based on Endo's novel, also called "Silence." One of the best on the critical side, I thought, was Monica Migliorino Miller's "Scorsese's Silence: Many Martyrs -- Little Redemption" (Crisis, January 9, 2017). But there were others that were also good on the appreciative side.
Personally, I liked the movie Silence. I think it was very well done. Whatever Endo's and Scorsese's motives, I think they both dealt powerfully with two things: (1) the exquisitely horrific tortures underwent by Catholics in Japan before the Meiji Restoration, and (2) the diabolically insidious temptations to apostasy that can make infidelity to Christ itself look like fidelity and virtue.
The latter theme of the movie, which I think most Christian audiences thought most significant, I think were (mis-?)understood in two ways: (a) by the 'liberals' as proclaiming a gospel of merciful accommodation indifferent to doctrine, and (b) by 'conservatives' as a message of doctrinal compromise intended by both Endo's novel and Scorsese's film.
I'm not at all certain that the latter is true. Whether it is or not, I think that not only the temptations but the consequences of apostasy were shown by both novel and film in a faithful light: the temptations were beyond ingenious, with the voice of Jesus seeming to come from His image on the fumie itself ("Step on me.") as if Christ Himself were counseling the mercy of apostasy as the path to redemption; and both apostate priests ended their lives by faded into oblivion, morphing into gollum-like shadows of themselves; and the Japanese Catholics (not all, but many) who witnessed their apostasy were significantly demoralized by it.
Remarkably, however, when Catholic priests returned to Japan after the Meiji Restoration of the mid-nineteenth century, they encountered Kakure Kurishitan (hidden Christians) who came out of hiding once again to present rosaries and crucifixes and statues of Maria Kanon that doubled as secret images of the Madonna, showing that the Faith had not been entirely wiped out. The price of persecution as well as apostasy was high. Only something like one tenth of 1% of Japanese people are Christians, and of these, half (about 509,000) are Catholic.
Some of you may remember the movie, The Last Samurai, starring Tom Cruise and Ken Watanabe. One of the young samurai actors in the film was Shin Koyamada, who only discovered during the making of that film that his ancestors were among the Kakure Kurishitan. So moved was he by the narrative of persecution and Catholic resistance during the Shimabara Rebellion, that he ventured to make film about those events in which he played the father of Shiro Amakusa, the leader of that rebellion (see my review here with a trailer of the film, "Good Soil").
Another recent discovery is the book, A Christian Samurai: The Trials of Baba Bunko, William J. Farge, SJ., which contradicts the generally held belief among Western historians that the Catholic mission in Japan ended in failure. Farge relates how Christian moral teachings not only survived the long period of persecution but influenced Japanese society throughout the Tokugawa period. Baba Bunko was a Japanese Catholic essayist and satirist whose biting criticism of the authorities of his time eventually led to his execution; but he was brazenly bold in asserting his views, declaring, for example, that a representation of the Eucharist would be a more fitting symbol for Japan than the coat of arms of the emperor and insignia of the shogun.
In the film’s climatic scene Japanese Christians are horrifically tortured and Rodrigues is forced to watch. If he would only step on the fumi-e placed on the ground before him the torture would end. Ferreira is there urging him, as Rodrigues himself had urged others, to step on the face of Jesus. And of course the apostasy, as in all other instances, is connected to bringing an end to human suffering. It is this scene that makes the Scorsese film a theological failure. Ferreira is the Judas character—but it is very unclear whether this Judas functions negatively or positively. Is this a Judas who works against Christ—or is this a Judas, ala the Gnostic text, The Gospel of Judas who actually aids Jesus to accomplish his mission? Ferreira tells Rodrigues: “If Christ were here he would apostatize for their sake” and “To give up your faith is the most painful act of love.” (Spoiler alert.) Then the voice of Jesus himself is heard coming from the fumi-e image lying on the ground. It is a bronze plaque of the crucified Christ who Himself urges Rodriquez: “Step on me. I carried this cross for your pain.” With the permission of Christ, Rodrigues denies his Lord. Apostasy, this time his own, stops the suffering of others, and the Christians are not martyred.
This is the most troubling aspect of Silence. Jesus gives permission to betray him, gives Christians permission to fail in their witness. It makes all the difference whether the film intends this to be the voice of Christ to Rodrigues or whether the voice is just something Rodrigues imagines in his own head. In this reviewer’s opinion, Scorsese intends this to be Christ’s voice that clears the path to failure. First of all, technically speaking, it is sound outside of Rodrigues, emanating from the image to him. The voice is not presented as something coming from the interior of Rodrigues’ consciousness.
Why would Scorsese, based on Endo, give us a Christ who provides his followers permission to fail? What end does the “Step on me” Jesus serve? Since Rodrigues recommends apostasy only to avoid suffering, one could conclude that suffering trumps faith—that for the good of avoiding horrible pain, denial of Christ is justified as it is Jesus alone who “carries this cross for your pain.” Of course this consequentialist ethic is contrary to Christian faith and morals—namely to do evil for the sake of good.
One could also just as well conclude that the “Step on me” Jesus is a theology that only Christ’s suffering has any value. Human beings, due to their inherent sinful nature will inevitably fail, despite all high-minded goals and personal expectations and in the end all that matters is the abiding silent presence of God to those that suffer. However, this is an insufficient Christian message—especially when one considers that in God’s eyes human suffering does have salvific value as Saint Paul himself stated: “Even now I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body the Church.”
Or when Rodrigues steps on Jesus this is meant to be indeed the “most painful act of love” as he surrenders his own ideal for the sake of saving others. However, this interpretation is seriously weaken by the fact that he is miserable afterwards and for decades to come will continue to step on the face of Christ in repeated acts of apostasy when no one needs to be delivered from torture.
If however, the voice is just Rodrigues’ own justification to deny Christ—then indeed he is a true apostate and the movie works as a tale of God’s abiding presence to all those who suffer—the suffering of the martyrs as well as the suffering of those like Rodrigues and Kichijiro who are tormented by remorse and guilt for their failure. Jesus is there silently in the suffering of all—as the “voice” from the image says: “I carried this cross for your pain.” And this works well when one considers that Kichijiro commits apostasy over and over again, and is even a Judas who betrays Rodrigues to the authorities. Yet he always seeks out the priest to confess his sins and receive absolution. And indeed mercy is there for those who fail. Silence poignantly illustrates this point. Rodrigues indeed follows Ferreira—who ironically has wound up mentoring him into the life of an apostate priest. But long after Rodrigues quits the priesthood Kichijiro finds him and begs him to hear his confession and Rodrigues again provides him the absolution for which he craves.
Except for Christ telling Rodrigues to “Step on me” this forgiveness scene would be the climax of the film, and thus Silence would be about the silent abiding presence of God to all, even to those who fail. But this possible climax is overwhelmed by the very troubling permission of Christ to fail. The first climactic scene plunges the Scorsese film into a most problematic and erroneous soteriology. The end of the film attempts to show a certain level of redemption for Rodrigues who apparently remained a Christian privately, but is not powerful enough to overcome a depiction of Christ who leads his faithful servant to deny him.
This movie seriously examines Christian themes and ideas. But should a film that, to its credit, does such an examination necessarily be called a Christian film? I think not. A Christian film cannot simply explore—it must conclude and it must conclude in a way that is consistent with the gospel message—however unconventionally, provocatively, or innovatively presented. There must be the Christ of the Gospels who, rather than commanding his faithful followers to step on him, and twists this negativity, this denial of the Light, into “the most painful act of love,” calls them to follow him to the Cross—the Christ who rather ensures his faithful: “From the cup I drink from you shall drink; the bath I am immersed in you shall share.”
Believers hoping for a film that explores Christian ideas from an authentic Christian context—should skip this one. Silence should also not be seen by the young, or those whose faith is not strong as the theology in this movie is complex, clever and seductive. However, if you are a mature Christian looking for a finely crafted, well-acted, disturbing film that provokes thinking and debates—then Silence is for you. Let the debates begin.
Franky Schaeffer has made a career of trying to get over himself and not succeeding. In Why I am an Atheist Who Believes in God: How to give love, create beauty and find peace(2014), he has written just the kind of book to seal his place in the hearts of those whom Alasdair MacIntyre calls the "readership of the New York Times," or at least to that part of it which shares the biases of those who write "that parish newsletter of affluent and self-congratulatory liberal enlightenment." Franky is clearly one of that readership's darling ex-fundamentalists.
On the one hand, he confirms their anti-religious biases by repeatedly savaging his fundamentalist parents as "deluded," mocking their belief in biblical miracles, and paying them backhanded complements like these:
[My parents] believed that to be kind is to be in tune with the way things are, or to be in tune with the way things would have been if there had been no fall from grace in the Garden of Eden. My evangelical parents were not stupid, so either they really didn't believe Eden existed, or some part of their otherwise intelligent brains snapped when they adopted the one-size-fits-all born-again version of American fundamentalist Christianity.
On the other hand, he confirms his liberal readership's moral superiority (and salves his own conscience) by showing a kinder, gentler side to his revulsion at their fundamentalism by looking for positive reasons to appreciate the practical effects of their 'indoctrination' of him in the biblical 'myths' of his childhood:
Ironically, although mom and dad may have been deluded by their fundamentalist certainties, I am mostly at peace in my home ... because I was indoctrinated in knee-jerk guilt. I realize now that my parents were often right for the wrong reasons. For instance, I feel guilt when I shout at Lucy and Jack. And when it comes to the "big sins" I would not have burned in hell for sleeping with the many women I've looked at longingly, but adultery would have ruined my marriage and the home where I play with my grandchildren.
Hence, although he mocks his parents' view of adultery as "derived from a tribal myth about God proclaiming the law from a mountaintop," he can still posture as exhibiting filial piety and gratitude for "sometimes liking the result of my parents' delusions" (emphasis mine).
What a stand-up fellow! His parents may have had ridiculously wrong reasons for the virtues they inculcated in him as a young lad, but they were right and praiseworthy insofar as their sentiments about those virtues conformed to those celebrated by his liberal readership. God help us. To see Franky as exhibiting the virtue of filial piety here would be like admiring the 'courage' of the terrorists who piloted their passenger jets into the Twin Towers on 9/11.
The mainstream reviews, of course, are predictably rapturous, cloying, fashionably liberal, and religiously obtuse: their darling ex-fundamentalist has seen the light, and his book is "extraordinary," "profound," "tender," "sensitive," "beautiful," "brilliant," "thought-provoking," "redemptive," "honest," filled with "great insight and unselfconscious humor" and "amazing grace."
Yet there is little if anything approaching real filial piety in this self-absorbed exercise in narcissistic therapy, even if there is much to admire artistically in this as in many of Franky's works (I, for one, superlatively enjoyed his autobiographical novel, Portofino, and would recommend it to almost anyone). Whatever artistic beauty and humor may be found in the present work, however, there is more than enough resentment, mockery and cynicism to make up for it.
What we see here is the Franky reflected in the image of his portrait on the cover of his book: an artist holding paint brushes and possessing many skills, yes; but a sad and bitter little old man who thinks he's being intellectually profound and beautiful (and witty) when he's really only wallowing self-indulgently in his own cynicism and depression. A "Christian atheist" or an "atheist Christian" is not a profundity. It is an absurdity. And that is a fact, no matter how much Franky may posture as intending to "give love, create beauty, and find peace."
One can only pray and hope that Franky's progeny will live to survive his legacy with more spiritual integrity, forgiveness, and joy than he has exhibited in his treatment of his parents. I feel genuinely sorry for him.
Christianity in America is strong in pockets, but mostly its strength is only apparent. It is a façade that will come tumbling down when social conditions are right. This is something that most of us Christians will live to see. This is something that few of us Christians will have prepared for.
And when it happens, our bishops, leading pastors, and senior laymen will be like the GOP Establishment in the Age of Trump, left to wonder what in the hell happened.
One reader comments:
What we are witnessing in the Republican Party is precursor to what we are witnessing in the Church.
Wait, did I say precursor? How Republican is Trump? Well, how Catholic is Francis if we want to be frank? Outrageous? No more so than "Love and do hat you please." If you have any appreciation for what Augustine might have actually wanted to convey. But who cares about that if you can score press points!
Fr. Eduard Perrone, "A Pastor's Descant" [temporary link] (Assumption Grotto News, May 22, 2016):
Another one bites the dust
What triggers the quotation of this well-worn, if abused, cliché indicating defeat? It's the knowledge that one more relative of mine has ceased to practice the Catholic faith and is now attending a non-Catholic "church." I didn't do a calculation to get an exact number of these family defectors, of those who have abandoned the faith, but it's a higher number than I'd like to admit. My reason for telling you this dark family secret is to give you that scant consolation of commiseration. These relatives of mine, only a few years ago, had been Catholics. Technically speaking, they are still Catholics: "once a Catholic, always a Catholic." However, these relatives do not regard themselves as being Catholics any longer, and this is a literal shame for me and a shame on them.
There's no greater misfortune that can befall man in this life than to be out of the true Church. It's a dogma of faith that there is no salvation outside the Church. Since there is only one Church, the one Christ founded, this amounts to saying that there's no salvation outside the Catholic Church. A dogma means a necessary teaching, one that's demanded by the very nature of the Christian faith. While interpretations of this dogma are various (and I do not intend to delve into them there), my purpose in reviewing it is to indicate how grievous a sin it is to abandon the true Church for any other.
I don't know of any family where all the relatives have kept the Catholic faith. The widespread defection is symptomatic of this age of unbelief, but it's also the result of the gross negligence of irresponsible priests, catechists and parents for failing to teach the faith, for misleading and deceiving their charges about the real meaning of the Church's teachings, or else for trivializing the liturgy by their impiety. When people are left ignorant by vacuous religious instruction or scandalized by silly, irreverent liturgies, they may at some point come to a religious consciousness and ask themselves, Can this be the true Christian religion? Upon discovering the bible and sincere Christians of some sect or other, they may easily be swayed to league up with them and depart from the Church. In such cases, culpability for leaving the Catholic Church may be mitigated, or even be entirely non-existent due to the fault of others. God knows. But one should not err on that account in believing that though they have left the true Church, that at least they now love the Lord and are better off than had they remained non-practicing Catholics. Objectively speaking, to leave the true Church is a grave evil. Subjectively one may not be accountable for this, depending on circumstances, depending on circumstances, but this does not refute the substantive evil of defection from the faith. For the faithful, it is truly a suffering to learn that someone has converted to a sect. (I speak nothing here about apostates -- those who have left Christianity for a pagan religion or a cult: this is an even worse evil.)
Today is Trinity Sunday. The dogma of the Blessed Trinity is a truth revealed to us by the Church, not by the bible alone, which does not clearly specify this dogma. And so, the dogma of the Trinity is an example of the necessity of the Catholic Church to explicate and impose its divinely revealed teachings upon, us, without which we would be doctrinally sunk, unsure about anything supernatural were we made to rely solely upon the many and diverse interpretations of the bible.
Let us cherish the true, orthodox, Catholic faith in all its fullness. Let us pray never to be unfaithful to it, trembling upon recollection of our Lord's words, "When the Son of Man comes again, will He find faith left on earth?" We, unhappy witnesses of the disintegration of the Catholic faith and of a massive defection from the Church in our time, need to pray steadily for the return of lapsed Catholics and to show them the good example of our patience and love which may, in the end, prove most convincing of all proofs of the truth of our holy faith.
Next Sunday is Corpus Christi Sunday. After the noon orchestral Mass there will be a procession (outdoors, as possible) with the Holy Sacrament and adoration of the One whom we love and revere as true God and true Man. Following the Procession, food at a nominal cost will be made available by our trusty ushers.
I thought of titling this post: "Why apostates are so much more worse off than unevangelized pagans." But then I thought of the words above, whose meaning should soon become apparent.
This is a familiar theme among Chesterton readers who know, for example, his quote wherein he declares: "Paganism was the biggest thing in the world, and Christianity was bigger and everything since has been comparatively small." It was a big theme in his book, The Everlasting Man.
It's not surprising that C.S. Lewis also addresses the issue, as one of my students recently pointed out in a term paper. Quoting from C.S. Lewis and Don Giovanni Calibria, The Latin Letters of C.S. Lewis (South Bend, IN: St. Augustin's Press, 2009), p. 90, he writes (first in the Latin, then the English translation):
Hinc status pejor quam illum statum quem habuimus ante fidem receptam. Nemo enim ex Christianismo redit in statum quem habuit ante Christianismum, sed in pejorem: tantum distat inter paganum et apostatam quantum innuptam ed adulteram. Nam fides perficit naturam sed fides amissa corrumpit naturam.
This [present] state is worse than that state which we had before the faith [was] received. For no one from Christianity returns into the state which he had before Christianity, but into a worse one: pagans and apostates differ as much as an unmarried [woman] and an adultress. For faith perfects nature, but faith lost corrupts nature.
A friend recently sent me a book review with the following paragraph in it:
"I once asked in confession what was the very least, the minimalist interpretation of that great promise [of Christ that the gates of Hell would not prevail against the Church]. I was told that at its very least, in order for it to be fulfilled, at the Parousia there would be one Catholic left on earth. I was instructed to make sure that even if there was no one else left, I would be that last one. I suggest that the same instruction goes for all of us."
Apostasy? Some will think that sounds a bit alarmist.
Others will think it a bit tardy: don't we already see a great apostasy about us?
Either way, it's time to steel our souls through devoted spiritual preparation. Here's something to think on:
"Only heroic Catholics will survive.
In short, in the times that are just ahead for Catholics, only the truly dedicated will not become apostates and thereby lose Heaven. This was the opinion of Fr. John Hardon, a very holy priest who died 15 years ago in Detroit — a man who was remarkable owing to his holiness. What he said has come even sharper into focus in light of the wholesale rejection of the Faith by an overwhelming majority of the Irish last week.
"If you are not preparing yourself now, and your family now, bracing yourselves spiritually for the darkness into which civilization is descending, you will not survive. You will inherit Satan for your father. People do not suddenly decide to suffer for the Faith. They prepare themselves to suffer great hardships for the Faith, by undergoing little hardships and sacrifices in advance...."
Dublin, May 23, 2015 (ChurchMiltant.com) - This weekend's 2–1 vote by Ireland to lovingly embrace sodomy as a form of marriage proves two points.
The first is the abject, epic failure on the part of the Catholic clergy
over the course of decades to transmit the Faith. Bishops refused to
discipline various priests who were active homosexuals or sympathetic to
the militant homosexual agenda. These traitorous priests slowly but
certainly converted the Catholic populace, in cooperation with a
high-voltage secular culture, to accept evil step by step.
The repeated refusal of bishops to discipline these clergy contributed
greatly to this wicked turn of events. The status quo allowed the
culture of death to flourish. Catholic leadership offered absolutely no
defense, and in many cases supported the trashing of the Faith.
Homosexual priests abused boys in a Catholic school system that turned
the Irish population decidedly against the Church when all was revealed a
few years ago.
And that is the second point to consider: This was not only a vote in
favor of sodomy, disguised as a human right, but also a referendum on
the Catholic Church — and quite frankly, the Church got exactly what it
deserved. The leadership betrayed the Son of God, and they are getting
their due punishment.
Without a public admission of their sins, a call for forgiveness and
resignation of their offices, they will more than likely be punished for
eternity in the fires of Hell as well.
They will have chosen their eternal fate every time they looked the
other way, allowed an abuse against the truth, covered up a homosexual
abusive priest, diminished the Faith by allowing errant catechesis in
the parish, permitted an active homosexual to run the nation's major
seminary for over a decade (a man who has since converted to the heresy
of Protestantism, and is civilly married to his gay lover in
California.)
The step-by-step degrading of the Faith is how this happened. But it
didn't come out of the blue. Four years ago when we were in Ireland, we
interviewed random people on the street and asked them if they still
attended Mass. We asked 19 people; 18 did not.
The total collapse of the Faith did not happen overnight.
The video at the bottom of the page on the original site is very telling. It was recorded earlier, maybe even a year ago, but it shows the "state of the faith" on the street, so to speak. And it's about as dismal as the political understanding of the general American electorate, if you know what I mean.
The underground sleuth we keep on retainer in an Atlantic seaboard city that knows how to keep its secrets, Guy Noir -- Private Eye, recently sent me another carrier pigeon message calling my attention the the following comment by Savonarola attached to a post (also good) entitled, "On Saints and Scholars" (That the bones you have crushed may thrill, May 21, 2015). The discussion is about, among other things, the recent moral and spiritual collapse of Ireland and, more generally, why traditionally Catholic cultures are abandoning their religious commitments so suddenly. Has an archeological dig confirmed the bones of Jesus in a grave in the Holy Land? Has some new scientific discovery invalidated the historical claims of the Faith? Is it something in the cool aid? Of course not.
This is a very uncomfortable subject for many Catholics, but one they need to examine. Here's what Savanorola says. Think about it. I'm not saying that he's right about everything, but he raises some terrific questions. They should provoke some deep thought.
Rather than seeking scapegoats to blame, one might perhaps try to understand in a more realistic way why Catholicism in Ireland has collapsed so quickly. How deeply rooted was the Catholic culture really in days gone by? What was there about it which made it into a house of cards which one gentle push would topple over?
Similar questions arise over the well established Catholic culture of Poland. As soon as they started to receive the benefits of Western consumerism, their Catholic culture was the first thing many Polish people jettisoned. Why? And the benefits were not even things worth having.
Unless we make a serious attempt to understand why people abandon their religion, we can only expect the decline to continue, but I think people in the Church are reluctant to question too far or deeply because they fear what it may show up - not about people, but the about the Church.
One thing we might consider is whether or not the Church over the centuries has placed most of its emphasis on the externals of religion - doctrines, rituals, moral codes, practices which create a tribal identity - rather than on the simple knowing of God which should be the heart of religion. And this is not to blame anyone, but to acknowledge honestly what has happened in order to move on.
Sometimes I have referred to this problem as that of a discrepancy between "word and deed," at other times as the problem of "dishonesty in advertising." No matter what we call it, it's a toxic problem.
However uncomfortable this video might make some of us feel, I think those of us who are converts to the Catholic Faith (at least most of us) will have to admit that there is some truth in it. Some have put the problem in terms of "false advertising," others in terms of a discrepancy between "word" and "deed."
I personally know, and doubtless many of you do as well, converts who made the arduous journey swimming upstream often at great personal cost, only to be disappointed by what they experienced in AmChurch. I personally sponsored some twenty individuals who were received into the Church via RCIA since my own conversion, and of these I know of three who have lapses or reverted to their erstwhile Protestant communions. And I know still others, often individuals of sound mind and theological substance who have also ceased to practice the Faith.
It would be easy to dismiss them by saying that they never really understood or believed the Catholic Faith, but I am acquainted with cases in which this could not possibly have been the case -- instances in which the convert wrestled with the issues, even producing pages and pages of written critical analyses critical of Protestant notions like justification by faith alone and sola fide, and working out their understanding of Catholic doctrines of Church authority, soteriology, Mariology, the intercession of saints, etc. I am still in contact (still "friends" with) several of these individuals, and it breaks my heart to see them where they are, and yet I also have to admit: there is a problem with what they encountered in today's Catholic Church.
Eduard Perrone, "A Pastor's Descant" (Assumption Grotto News, October 15, 2017):
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I read the novel Silence by the Japanese Catholic author, Shusaku Endo, years ago when I lived in Japan. He's called the "Japanese Graham Greene." With good reason. Like Greene, he's a darn good novelist. Also like Greene, his Catholicism in his writings is ambiguous. I don't hold that against him as a novelist. Some of my favorite Catholic novelists are also ambiguous about the Catholic faith in their writings, even though they are clearly and intentionally Catholic, like Walker Percy or Evelyn Waugh.
(2014), he has written just the kind of book to seal his place in the hearts of those whom Alasdair MacIntyre calls the "readership of the New York Times," or at least to that part of it which shares the biases of those who write "that parish newsletter of affluent and self-congratulatory liberal enlightenment." Franky is clearly one of that readership's darling ex-fundamentalists.
I thought of titling this post: "Why apostates are so much more worse off than unevangelized pagans." But then I thought of the words above, whose meaning should soon become apparent.
