Tuesday, December 26, 2017

SIMPLE CHRISTMAS PRAYER


SIMPLE CHRISTMAS PRAYER
To help you in your brief respite, pray this short and simple prayer from St. John XXIII. It gets to the heart of Christmas and implores God’s help in achieving peace on earth. Not just an external peace, but a true and abiding peace that starts in the soul.
O sweet Child of Bethlehem,
grant that we may share with all our hearts
in this profound mystery of Christmas.
Put into the hearts of men and women this peace
for which they sometimes seek so desperately
and which you alone can give to them.
Help them to know one another better,
and to live as brothers and sisters,
children of the same Father.
Reveal to them also your beauty, holiness and purity.
Awaken in their hearts
love and gratitude for your infinite goodness.
Join them all together in your love.
And give us your heavenly peace.
Amen.


Friday, December 15, 2017

PRAY THE ROSARY

PRAY THE ROSARY






Prayer is one of the core essences of Christian life. The Mass is really a long and joyful prayer, and Catholics, most of all, should be aware of this fact. It is not just communion with God—although it most certainly is that—it is also a participatory prayer of praise. But in our age of disorder, the “dictatorship of noise,” and consumerist ethos, as David Bentley Hart once said, “prayer is the one thing you should not do in a truly good consumerist culture.” Prayer, after all, is a call to order. It is a call to dialogue. It is a call to the transcendent—to fix oneself, and one’s mind, to things other the hectic fury of day-to-day life.To be made for joy and praise is to recognize where that joy emanates from, and where one’s right praise (orthodoxy) should be directed. “The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph… And he came to her and said, ‘Hail O favored one, the Lord is with you.’” And how did the blessed Mother respond to the news? “May it be done unto me according to thy word!” Truly a woman of faith for any Catholic to emulate.The Rosary, with all of its parts, captures the very spirit of the Catholic faith through the Apostle’s Creed, Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be, and Fatima Prayer, notwithstanding to call to mediate on the various mysteries of the day. Prayer is not just a call to order in a chaotic and disorderly world, it is a call to participate with God. And who better to be at the center as a model of participation than Mary herself? She was a vessel chosen by God to be sure, but her immediate compliance to God’s will stands in stark contrast to so many of the other great Biblical figures.Solomon ignores the prescriptions established as part of the covenant for the monarchy, building foreign temples and worshiping Astarte instead. David should have answered God’s call to campaign but instead choose to stay at home and had Uriah killed so as to satisfy his temporary and carnal lusts. Jonah flees from God until he can flee no more, only then embracing his role as prophet after he could not run from God. Mary, on the other hand, is without blemish. From first annunciation to her presence at the Crucifixion and the Empty Tomb, to her eventual assumption, Mary was always with Jesus. That is also our calling too.How much time do Catholics spend in prayer? Prayer is a great gift that one should find joy in. The cultivation of virtue—which is the outcome of habit (habitus)—requires striving. It requires time. It demands that we set aside time for God in the midst of our daily lives. To have an active prayer life is the result of the habit of prayer.To this end the Rosary embodies the call to a virtuous prayer life better than most prayers because of the time it takes to pray the Rosary. Time is the one thing we can never get enough of according to some people. And the more time spent reading, praying, or contemplating God, the less time one is “making something of themselves” in the material world. For all the wonders that God has done for us it would be fitting of our appreciation and understanding of God’s wonders and love to devote time to him throughout the day. From small things greater things come.A friend of mine, who has joined the RCIA, was somewhat taken aback when the Dominican priest he met bluntly said that if he did not have an active prayer life he shouldn’t be in his office (and at the same time he conferred to me that it was refreshing to have the priest say this to him). When we pray we should pray to love Christ more and to know Christ better. Furthermore, through prayer we may hopefully grow in our faith and find joy in the embodiment of our faith. The greatest of saints had the most active and ardent of devotional lives. But prayer can be daunting and even intimidating at times (if not simply too “time consuming”). It is in that daunting and intimidated state that Mary always lights a special path for us.Mary could have been overwhelmed and intimidated by the news Gabriel bestowed upon her. She could have felt unworthy to bear the Son of Redemption. But rather than running from God she whole-heartedly embraced God. “May it be done unto me according to thy word.”It goes without saying that we should be engaged in prayer daily. It goes without saying that in this season of the Church we should be ever more cognizant of joyful prayer. And given the joyful mysteries, the great joy of the Christian life found in the coming of Our Lord in the flesh, we should meditate on the mysteries by asking Our Lady to help discover the joy she had—a joy that is available to all of us; the joy that brings our restless heart to serenity. Hail, holy Queen, indeed.                                 x
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Wednesday, December 13, 2017

"LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION"

Why I Oppose Changing the English Translation of the Our Father
We shouldn’t change our translation of the Our Father—we should teach, explain and root ourselves more deeply in it.
Recent remarks by the Holy Father, Pope Francis, cast doubt on the traditional English rendering of the Lord’s Prayer. To be fair to the Pope, reports that he is calling for the Our Father to be changed are incorrect. He did not propose any change to the Greek text. What he did say, in a recent interview with an Italian Catholic television network, was that the current English translation “lead us not into temptation” is not a good one because God does not lead people to sin. Pope Francis suggested using “do not let us fall into temptation” instead. He added, “It is not God who throws me into temptation and then sees how I fell … A father does not do that; a father helps you to get up immediately.”
All of this is fair enough, but I have seldom heard anyone argue that God directly tempts us to sin. Scripture itself makes this clear: Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire … Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him (James 1:12-14).
While the petition “lead us not into temptation” may seem a bit confusing to some, retranslating it as “do not let us fall into temptation” is problematic for a number of reasons.
First, “lead us not in temptation” is the most straightforward and linguistically accurate rendering of the Greek καὶ μὴ εἰσενέγκῃς ἡμᾶς εἰς πειρασμόν (kai me eisenenkēs hemas eis peirasmon). Almost every commonly read English Bible renders it as “lead us not into temptation” or “do not bring us into temptation.”[**] The Latin Vulgate translation is et ne nos inducas in tentatione.
The Greek text is not complex and its accuracy is not disputed. Eisenenkēs is an aorist subjunctive in the active voice. “Lead us not” is simply the clearest and most accurate translation of me eisenenkēs. To instead render it “do not allow us” is to read into the text an extended meaning that is not there. While the intention may be to assist the reader to understand that God does not tempt us or directly cause us to fall, the effect is to imply that the inspired Greek text is inadequate.
Second, in the English-speaking world the Lord’s Prayer is one of the few prayers we have in common with non-Catholics. While unity with Protestants and other non-Catholic Christians is not our highest theological priority, we ought not to consider lightly making unilateral changes to the one prayer we do have in common.
Even many of the unchurched have it committed to memory. The Our Father (even with archaic words like “art,” “thy,” and “hallowed”) is a treasured prayer familiar to the majority of English-speaking world.
I am not sure if the Holy Father considered the pastoral and ecumenical loss that a change to the translation by Catholics might cause in the English-speaking world. I say this because his remarks were impromptu.
Third, if we change the translation, we miss a teachable moment. Although the phrase “lead us not into temptation” may confuse some or give the false impression that God directly or intentionally causes temptation, this confusion provides a teachable moment in which an important truth about God can be explained.
We live in an age in which empiricism and scientism strongly predominate. We tend to give great weight to physical, material, and human causes for things that happen. These causes are secondary, though, because they themselves owe their existence to God, who is the primary cause of everything. Things and people owe their existence to God, who is existence itself (ipsum esse). Thus, I am not the primary cause of anything I do; I am the secondary cause because I myself am caused and held in existence by God. God, therefore, is the primary cause of everything that is.
In this age, so focused as it is on secondary causality, we have moved God to the margins and are easily forgetful of God’s “essential” action of holding all things in existence. We tend to think that we are the first cause or that some physical reality is the first cause of things that happen. This is not correct from either a biblical or theological standpoint.
In more ancient and believing times, people were more aware of and conversant with God’s role in sustaining and being the primary cause of all things. They were more comfortable with attributing things to God’s primary causality, things that today are more often attributed to the secondary causality of physical nature or man. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church points out regarding the more ancient appreciation of primary causality, This is not a “primitive mode of speech,” but a profound way of recalling God’s primacy and absolute Lordship over history and the world, and so of educating his people to trust in him (# 304).
This brings us back to the request in the Lord’s Prayer that God “lead us not into temptation.” Surely God does not tempt us in any direct sense. He does not will to entrap us or to confound us so as to make us fall. However, because He is the first cause of all existing things, He is also the first cause of things that tempt us. So, in asking God to “lead us not into temptation,” we ask Him, who providentially holds us and all things in existence, to lead us forward with the graces we need to resist it. This will allow us to enjoy the good things He gives without giving way to the temptations of our inordinate desires.
To say that God “leads” us is to acknowledge that He is the first cause of our movement through life. Although we have free will in our decisions, He sustains us in those decisions and thereby “leads” us as the first cause of all we do. He sustains us even when He does not approve of what we do. Thus each of us asks, in effect, “Please, Lord, in your provident and sustaining causality of all that I do, lead me in your grace to resist sin and to do what is right.”
This petition in the Our Father holds an important truth about God as the first, the primary cause of all that happens. We cannot go forward unless God leads us and holds us in existence. Mysteriously, God sustains us and leads us by causing our existence, even when we stray from His will for us.
The Holy Father is right in this: God does not “throw” us into temptation, as if He were wanting us to fall. We cannot blame God for our sins, but we ought not to surrender the truth that God does “lead” us in all things by being the first cause of all that is, including every step we take and every decision we make. Again, as the Catechism says, we must profoundly recall God’s primacy and absolute Lordship over history and the world.
I argue that altering the English translation of the Our Father (which is an accurate translation of the Greek) in order to make us more “comfortable,” surrenders an opportunity to ponder the mystery of the interaction between God’s providence and our freedom.
I therefore respectfully disagree with any suggestion that we consider changing the translation of the Our Father. I think we should teach, explain, and remain rooted in the translation of the Lord’s Prayer that has sustained and united the English-speaking world for hundreds upon hundreds of years


Wednesday, December 6, 2017

PERFECT CHURCH AND YOU


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                             PERFECT CHURCH AND YOU

 Ronald Knox once said, “He who travels in the barque of St. Peter had better not look too closely into the engine room.” In case you’ve been living under a rock the last five, ten, fifty years, the barque has been going through some heavy seas. Some would say we’re with Columbus sailing to a new world; others would say the name written on the side reads Titanic. In any event, it is worth pointing out that, no matter how one reads the signs of the times, in one sense, one very real sense, it doesn’t matter.
I’m not saying we shouldn’t pray for the Church or the pope or the bishops; that we shouldn’t be concerned when priests and prelates and even those higher up say things that, at the very least, make one scratch one’s head. I’m not saying we shouldn’t confront error, call a spade a spade, or turn a blind eye to scandal. I’m only saying that in one sense, one very real sense, we needn’t worry about all that. We needn’t worry about all that because the one thing we do need to worry about isn’t, in a way, affected by all that. That one thing is our own soul.
This past November, the Church had us reflect on the Last Things, the one last thing we should be concerned about is our own individual holiness. It is easy, and perhaps excusable, to be distraught at what some priest or bishop or “Catholic” politician or “Catholic” school has said or done. I’ll be the first to admit I can get all twisted around with these things. And, as I said, there is some justice in this. We love the Church and to see it in a state of, shall we say, “flux” is worrisome. For many of us, the Church is supposed to be our “rock,” and to many of us it currently feels more like quicksand. But here’s the thing—what of it?
When we die, and that is the one thing we are to be concerned about, do we really think our Lord will judge us on what a priest or bishop or pope or anyone else said or did? No. He will judge us by the simple criteria: Did you do what I asked you to do? And there’s the end of it. In Jane Austen’s novel Emma, the title character and her friend, Mr. Knightley argue about another character, Frank Churchill, who has seemingly failed in his filial duties. While Emma thinks of every reason to excuse the young man, Mr. Knightley will have none of it. He finally says, “There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do if he chuses [sic], and that is his duty, not by maneuvering and finessing, but by vigour and resolution.” That should be our attitude.
Let’s look at it another way: Has there ever been a time when the Church, from pope to parish priest to parishioner in the pew, was perfect? No. St. Paul seemed to spend most of his time straightening out squabbles and heresies. The first five hundred years (at least) of the Church’s history were spent ironing out a creed, and even then, at one time the majority (Arians) didn’t get it right. The Middle Ages saw the pope browbeaten to Avignon for nearly 70 years, and for 25 years after that we had three men claiming to be pope. The Renaissance? Let’s not go there. The 1600s had the Jansenists; the 1700s, the “Enlightenment” and the French Revolution. In the 1800s, the First Vatican Council had to be suspended because Italian troops were knocking at the door. Many point to the “golden age” of the Church before Vatican II. While there may be some truth to that, the question needs to be asked, where and when were the seeds of the flood of the “Spirit of Vatican II” sown if not in that “golden age”? The church—in her members—has never been perfect.
But there have always been saints. There have always been saints because there have always been those few individuals who didn’t, in this sense, fret about what anyone else was doing or not doing, and instead did what they were supposed to do, however humbly or publicly that might have been. They sought their own sanctity. They did so with the same means that you and I have at our disposal—prayer, the sacraments, God’s grace, and their own will. None of those depend upon the personal holiness of others in the Church. In all those troubled times, there were great saints. I said above we shouldn’t look to the Renaissance, but let’s do that now. The papacy was pumping water from personal scandal and the heresy of Martin Luther. In England, all the bishops but one caved into Henry VIII. Yet Thomas More became a saint and went to the chopping block calm and cracking a joke, not because his parish priest gave great sermons, not because there was a great RCIA program in his diocese, not because of the purity of the clergy or their sound doctrine, but because he led a life of holiness. (And did so while raising a family, being a lawyer, and being involved in politics of all things.) He didn’t whine, he didn’t complain, he didn’t offer excuses. He looked to his own soul.
“These world crises are crises of saints,” said St. Josemaria Escriva, who wept tears as the Church seemed to be going belly up in the 1960s and ’70s. That is to say, these crises are not primarily crises of popes or bishops or priests, or of universities and theologians and politicians, but rather of you and me being a saint where and how God has called us to be. And today we have an even greater burden in this regard because with the amount of sound doctrine and spiritual advice available in books and other media, we really have no excuse for not knowing our duty and how to do it. How much of our efforts are we outing there? No one can stop us from being saints except ourselves.
So, by all means correct and admonish, by all means give financial support to those worthy and withhold it from those who are not, but first and foremost, first and last, pray, frequent the sacraments, beg for God’s grace, and do the one thing you can do—be a saint. That’s all God asks.

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Monday, December 4, 2017

IN THIS CHILD

                                  IN THIS CHILD

                                           
          The greatest things are accomplished in silence; not in the clamour of superficial display but in the deep clarity of inner vision, in the almost imperceptible start of decision, in hidden sacrifice and quiet conquest. It is in silence that the heart is quickened by love, and the free will stirs to action. The silent forces are the strong forces. The greatest events are accomplished in silence. And the greatest event of all was the descent of the Son of God from his throne on to this earth. It was the most silent event because it came from the infinite remoteness beyond the noise of any possible intrusion.
            The Son of God became man,  -  “the Word was made flesh” (Jn. 1) in the womb of an unknown virgin, and it hardly echoed in the upper circles of the time, ignored by the Roman historians. No one but the young virgin knew that Divinity had set up its tent among men.
            In this Child, God, having spoken at sundry times through the prophets, chose to reveal to man the mysteries hidden from all eternity.  In this Child the infinite made an advance into the finite, a personal intervention, a divine transfusion by which we are transformed, elevated, redeemed; for whereas we were blind, now we see. In this Child, God and man have a purchase on each other. He breathed our air, felt our pain, hungered, thirsted, laboured and loved, and by doing so gave our life meaning.
            The Incarnation was a descent into the temporal, into the material, into this world of births and generations, into this world of buying and selling, this world of housing and education, to this world of leisure and hard work, this world of unemployment and taxes. The Lord Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God, took upon himself all this in order to elevate and transfigure.  Therefore, our salvation does not consist in a flight or retreat from this world; not a flight of the alone to the Alone; not an escape from our fellowmen and our day to day burdens. It is an injustice to the Incarnation to confine its effectiveness merely to internal graces. In every line of progress, spiritual, intellectual and material, the Incarnation must be the enabling leaven. And if that is so, it should be the rule and not the exception to have saintly workers and peasants, saintly statesmen and judges, merchants and soldier. All stages of life are graced, from childhood to adolescence, from marriage to retirement, up to the last day of our life. “All flesh shall see the salvation of our God” (Luke 6).
            Wherever the Christ Child is adored there is at least some sense of mystery. Ignore that birth, and the road to power runs straight as a ruler to the death camps. Focus on that birth, and the road to a healthy humanity cannot be missed. This Infant touched off a revolution, a quiet prolonged thunder, from the recesses of the cave of his birth, founding a kingdom that is known by unconditional love and undiscriminating service. The centre of this dynamic process is the human heart; and the source - the Son of God, born in the heart of every man and woman today.

            This Child the simple and the sinner come to worship. The Magi and we pay our loving adoration. He is not an ideal or abstraction, a gaunt empty figure beyond description; but a person in whom is the fullness of the Godhead, the most beautiful among men, victor over death and hell. Nothing great he puts before us to achieve except to love him, to be faithful to him and to give faithful testimony to him when challenged. 

Saturday, December 2, 2017

SOFTWARE FOR DISCERNMENT

SOFTWARE FOR DISCERNMENT
Today at the conclusion of his apostolic journey to Bangladesh—his 21st outside of Italy—Pope Francis went to the prestigious Notre Dame University in Dhaka for a meeting with young people. The pontiff advised them to trust the “wisdom of faith,” not the wisdom of the world, in their search to discover their life’s purpose.
“You are always full of enthusiasm, and I feel rejuvenated every time I meet you,” exclaimed the pope after hearing young people’s testimonies. He explained that he associates young people’s enthusiasm with “a spirit of adventure.”
We need to ensure that we choose the right path, continued the Successor of Peter, in order not to “wander aimlessly.”
“Our life is not without direction. It has a goal, which God has given us. He guides us, orienting us with his grace.”
“Software” for discerning God’s plan 
Each of us has built-in “software” that helps us discern the “divine plan.” But like any software, it must be constantly updated, by “listening to the Lord and accepting the challenge to do his will.”
The pope then indicated that, to orient ourselves, we need to follow the wisdom that is born of the faith, and not of that of the world, which is “false.” To receive it, we must look at the world through God’s eyes, “listen to others with God’s ears, love with God’s heart, and evaluate things with God’s values.”
Finally, the pontiff encouraged the young people not to lock themselves up “in their own small world” by closing in on themselves. Rather, he encouraged them to open up to people of other religions, and to respect the elderly. Hope, concluded the pope, comes from a personal encounter with Jesus in prayer and the sacraments, and in the encounter with the poor and the sick.


Friday, December 1, 2017

PASCAL AND THE JESUITS

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 Pascal and the Jesuits

. There is a difference between the older tolerance and patience with Catholic misbehavior, and the newer situation in which an alternative – and quite militant – religion is growing under the canopy of tolerance. That is why at The Catholic Thing we have always believed that the very survival of the Church in the West depends on what Pope Benedict XVI has called “creative minorities.” At the same time, we must not only maintain but grow those minorities so that it becomes impossible even for the cynical politicians to ignore us. I’ve said it before: there are at least 20 million Catholics in America who agree with us. So far, only 30,000 subscribe to The Catholic Thing. But that means we have an unlimited future ahead of us. If you wish to help shape that future – and have not already contributed – what are you waiting for? We know that the immediate future is going to be quite challenging for real Catholics. But what better time to go on the offensive? The other side, as I’m convinced will soon be clear, has no future. Now’s the time to bet on the future of Christ’s Church. Help us help that future. Click the button to make your contribution to TCT. Now. – Robert Royal

It seems to me (I’m hardly alone) that many clerical leaders (priests and bishops) are relatively “soft” on matters related to sexual sin – fornication, unmarried cohabitation, abortion, and homosexuality. It’s not that they approve of these things; they just don’t go out of their way to condemn them.
If someone were challenged to write in defense of this clerical “softness,” I think the argument would go like this.
At least since the time of Emperor Constantine, the Church has realized that there are three main classes of Christians.
Class 1: an elite minority of “real” Christians: those who are deadly serious about their religion; who believe all the official doctrines; who try hard (though never quite succeeding) to obey all the commandments all the time; who spend much of their time and energy at Mass and in prayer.
Class 2: those who are “ordinary” Christians, the great majority of all Christians. They honestly believe in their religion, but they are decidedly lukewarm. When it comes to doctrine, their willingness to recite the Apostle’s Creed or the Nicene Creed doesn’t imply that they agree with all the articles. And it certainly doesn’t even imply that they understand all the articles; they don’t, and they are not troubled by their lack of understanding.
As for the rules of Christian morality, not only do they habitually violate many of them, except for the really big ones – e.g., murder and adultery – they barely notice them. They usually say prayers, especially in moments of trouble; and they attend Mass on a fairly regular basis. They are for the most part “decent” people, and hope to go to Heaven someday.
Class 3: this is made up of ne’er-do-wells who habitually and conspicuously fall below the level of ordinary decency. They are robbers, gangsters, prostitutes, drunks, drug addicts, wife-beaters, etc. They rarely attend church. And except when they’re standing before a judge waiting for him to pronounce sentence, they rarely pray. Apart from the existence of God (who, they hope, will someday rescue them from their sea of troubles), the dogmas of the religion mean little to them. And occasionally, in their moments of despair, they doubt even God’s existence. But they never sever their formal connection with the Church.
Members of this third class aren’t a threat to the Church. They are even, in a perverse way, allies. For one thing, they verify by their horrid examples what the Church teaches about sin, that it will have bad consequences, both spiritual and temporal. For another, they provide opportunities for Class 1 Catholics to show compassion to the “least of these,” easing their pain, showing them the right path. Further, they occasionally supply edifying examples of late-in-life conversions to righteousness.
But Class 2 Catholics are always a potential threat to the Church. For if the Church were to insist that all Catholics must be of the Class 1 type, that all must strive for sainthood on a daily and even hourly basis, most Class 2 (“ordinary” or “decent”) Catholics would bid farewell. “I see this is not a religion for me,” they would say. “It demands too much. It is unrealistic. It is fanatical. Au revoir.”
Duel After the Masquerade by Jean-Léon Gérôme, c. 1857 [Walters Art Museum, Baltimore]
And so, to make sure these folks, the great majority of Catholics, don’t leave the Church, thereby not only damaging the religion but endangering their own salvation, the Church loosens the reins on these people. If they don’t believe everything the Church believes, oh well, let’s not make a fuss about it. And if they have incorrigible habits of sin, well, let’s not make them feel uncomfortable by publicly condemning the sins they’re prone to; and let’s tell them that God is forgiving and tolerant; and let’s remind them that all sins can be instantaneously wiped away in the confessional or on a good deathbed. Above all, let’s tell them that, practically speaking, the goal of this life (except for a rare few) is not Heaven but Purgatory; in other words, you don’t have to get an A-plus in sanctity, a C-minus will do just fine.
In his Provincial Letters, Blaise Pascal (a Class 1 Catholic if ever there was one) finds fault with the Jesuits of his day for bending Catholicism so that it will accommodate the un-Christian code of honor that was then typical of upper-class gentlemen. In one of the more hilarious letters, Pascal tells of a Jesuit casuist (some things never change) who figured out a way for a gentleman to participate in a duel while not, technically speaking, violating the Catholic rule that dueling is a mortal sin.
So can it be argued that the “softness” with regard to sex-related sins that we find today among many bishops and priests is just one more example of what has been an all-too-human Catholic practice since at least the fourth century, the practice of – not exactly consenting to – but tolerating the many imperfections of Class 2 Catholics?
No, I don’t think so. When the Jesuits tolerated, say, the morality of 17th century French gentlemen – a morality that included dueling and “gallantry” (as upper-class adultery was euphemistically called) – they were not tolerating a non- or anti-Catholic religion. They were tolerating – however much we may laugh about it – an un-Catholic code of manners and morals, quite a different thing.
But when today’s Jesuits (and other Catholic clerics) are “soft” on sex-related sins, including homosexuality, they are doing much more than making a calculated accommodation to an un-Christian code of manners. They are tolerating a sexual ethic that is part and parcel of an increasingly militant anti-Catholic religion.
What religion is that? Secular humanism, a comprehensive worldview that is tantamount to a (God-less) religion. Dueling in 17th century upper-class Paris was bad, but it was not an affirmation of an anti-Catholic religion. By contrast, abortion and homosexuality in 21st century America truly are affirmations of a growing and decidedly anti-Catholic quasi-religion.
Catholic leaders from the pope on down need to wake up to the nature of that new mortal threat.