Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

 "Keep falsehood and lies far from me" 

(Prov 30:8)

One reason I have such an aversion to politicians is that they rarely, if ever, admit when they are wrong about anything. Often, it's the opposite: they will obfuscate, deflect, gaslight, or simply doubledown rather than admit fault. Truly loathsome behavior that is all too common.But that's the game, and, as Omar Little from The Wire famously said, "the game is the game." And the game is only as good as its rules. 

On the flipside, for those who are wrong on a matter, even when they were well intentioned but have been proven to be incorrect on a matter and have the humility to admit it...that's admirable.

I've seen this in the liturgical world. Old-school theologians like Dr. Janet Smith and Dr. Scott Hahn--people of formidable intellect, good will, and integrity--who had built their careers on a post-conciliar foundation, have begun attending the Latin Mass and have shifted gears on the "reform of the reform." Part of this "Emmaus moment" in light of new "data" (or "fruit", if you want to speak theologically) that may not have been available twenty years ago when the New Mass was the only item on the menu for them. On the flipside, you have popesplaining sites like Where Peter Is and those who will seemingly go to their grave defending the Council doubling down with shoddy attempts to prop it up.

In the scientific world, Dr. John Campbell is one of those people willing to pivot in light of new evidence. A retired British Nurse Educator who holds a PhD in Nursing, he has been posting videos on his Youtube channel that took an evidence-based approach to the COVID pandemic for the past couple years. Like a good evidence-based educator, he tries to disseminate data for the everyday person in as unbiased a matter as possible. I don't know anything about him personally, and have only viewed a few of this videos over past two years when they pop up in my Youtube feed, but I get the impression he is someone trying to use his educational knowledge for the benefit of others, with good intentions. 

While Dr. Campbell was an initial proponent of COVID19 vaccination, and used the supporting data at the time to try to interpret transmission and spread of the virus, in his latest video he admitted, "I feel naive for not questioning them (the medical establishment) more. If science isn't about truth, it's about diddly squat."

He mentions that what he previously discounted (those who were labeled as "conspiracy theorists") now seems to have merit in light of the evidence, and that he felt let down by the peer-reviewed literature and somewhat "sickened" when realizing that the trust he had placed in the medical establishment and the scientific community was misplaced."I conveyed to you at the time information [on viral origins] I was getting from the scientific literature. And it turns out now that this is not as analytical as it would like to be. And I'd like to apologize for getting it wrong." Keep in mind this is just an ordinary, unfunded retired PhD doing this because he wants to know the truth about this virus. But I think he is now realizing, like many of us are, that the truth of the matter goes much deeper and darker than we initially thought.

I'm consistently late to the party, and usually wake up to the truth of things at least ten steps behind most of those I associate with. I think this is in part because I surround myself with good, astute, and honest people (who, nonetheless, are flawed and have blinds spots like anyone else). COVID was no exception in this case. And so, if you'll allow me the liberty, I'd like to take a cue from Dr. Campbell and clarify a few things on that matter that I've written on this blog, and attempt to make amends as needed. There are some things I stand by, and some that, in light of conscience and new "evidence", I would like to concede. 

First, a bit of background: in 2020, my father in law was suffering from kidney failure and on dialysis, with my wife (who is an ER nurse working part time) as his main caregiver. When the vaccine was rolled out, we felt we had sufficient reasons to consider it given her father and that she herself was working on the COVID ward during the height of the pandemic. I wrestled with the issue, having reservations about its novelty but also knowing that we were not sensitive to vaccines (vaccine injury) or opposed to vaccination in general. Theologically, my views alligned most with that of philosopher Edward Feser: I felt vaccine mandates were unjust, unwaranted, and immoral, but that one could in good conscience take the vaccine if they desired to. This is because that authority to determine what is moral rests with the Magisterium, and She has already spoken in her rightful authority. I openly opposed any purports to the contrary, even by high-profile and zealous clergy, that one was culpable of sin for vaccinating. That judgment is not theirs to make. I stand by that.

On other matters, such as masking, I was somewhat neutral. Did they help 'slow the spread'? Sure, then go ahead and wear a mask. What if they didn't? Then don't wear one. Of course I had many friends who dug their heels in when it came to mandatory masking in hospitals or schools, and refused to ever don one. I took the 1 Cor 8 approach. I wasn't pro-mask or anti-mask, pro-vaccine or anti-vaccine; what I was against was Catholics conflating these things with a Catholic moral identity.  I.e., if you chose to wear a mask or get "jabbed," you were less of a Catholic; or that by not wearing a mask or not getting vaccinated you were more of a Catholic, more virtuous. In my mind, these were ancillary and not directly moral issues, but the conflation (similar to the way we can conflate nationalism with moral virtue) was all around me. I stand by that.

As mandates loomed larger, I felt a degree of shame that I was "off the hook" in choosing to vaccinate while many of my friends were being treated like social and professional lepers for holding their ground (though to note, neither my wife nor I have gotten any boosters since our initial shots two years ago, and we have no intention of (COVID) vaccinating our kids). I admitted in "Nowhere Near the Man I Thought I Was" that,

"I know for a lot of guys I know, they will be facing some hard decisions of being put to their own personal test with regards to vaccine mandates and their jobs in the ensuing months. Though I'm reticent to attach an objective religious or spiritual dimension to these decisions myself, for the individuals facing these difficult situations in conscience, that may be the case for them. They may find themselves saying "I will never get the jab" and staring down the barrel of a proverbial gun as a result. They will either have to face the consequences of these decisions, or perhaps be delivered from them. [When Fr. Walter Ciszek was broken by the KGB, he recalled]:

'I had asked for God’s help but had really believed in my ability to avoid evil and to meet every challenge. . . . I had been thanking God all the while that I was not like the rest of men. . . . I had relied almost completely on myself in this most critical test—and I had failed.'

In light of this...well, let's just call it what it is: an admiral stubborn refusal to bend--I myself felt like "a worm, and not a man." In fact, it was that line from Psalm 22:6 that I was meditating on this morning in prayer that got me thinking about this issue of shame and regret at being wrong about something. It was my friends, however, the ones who saw the truth of what was occurring during this pandemic from the start, even when they were called right-wing nut jobs and conspiracy theorists, that held fast because they were more perceptive than I was--that something wasn't adding up. Their treatment?

"Scorned by everyone, despised by the people.

All who see me mock me;

    they hurl insults, shaking their heads." 

(Ps 22:6-7)

Watching Mr. Campbell--who has millions of subscribers to his channel--realize over the past six months or so that things weren't adding up as to the origins of this virus, the cover ups, the lies and obscurfication, the gaslighting that he had indevertently led some people astray has forced me to re-examine my own presuppositions about my trust in authority--both of the government, the medical establishment, and the Church--and wonder if I too were too trusting, too naive, and too unquestioning. I myself had thrown around the term "conspiracy theorist" about those who took what I saw as a more 'extreme" approach to questioning what we were being fed, perhaps to assuage my own insecurity at having made what I now regard as a wrong decision (that is, to vaccinate). Yes, yes, I made the best decision I could given my circumstances with the information I had at the time. I am not wallowing in guilt or scruples. Though I have suffered no ill effects, that's not to say it can't happen down the road. I am ready to die, though I will have to answer for every idle word at my particular judgment. For that, I would beg your prayers and God's mercy.

It seems that perhaps many of my friends and those in our circle will be vindicated on this issue--of maintaining the lab leak theory, among others. If they were right about that, what else might they be right about? And, conversely, if Fauci and those in our government and the medical and "public health" establishment lied about that, what else are they lying about? If we can't trust the people and institutions we should be able to trust, where does that leave us?

Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;

    you are the one Israel praises.

In you our ancestors put their trust;

    they trusted and you delivered them.

To you they cried out and were saved;

    in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

(Ps 22:3-5)

So, to those I may have too blythly discounted or labeled...I'm sorry. You may have just been seeing more clearly than the rest of us, both a gift and a burden. Like I said, I'm always late to the party...but I do show up eventually. I'm still learning, still sifting, still trying. And while our government, bought establishments, and even the Church herself have undermined our trust and confidence by their cover ups and deceptiveness, we as Christians will continue to trust in the Lord God to reveal all the hidden things, when the time is right. For "even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day. Darkness and light are the same to you." (Ps 139:12)

"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy." (Prov 28:13)

The Novus Ordo May One Day Save Your Life

 One of the struggles I have as a traditionally-minded Catholic is to be on guard as David was when he prayed, “Who can discern his errors? Forgive my hidden faults. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then will I be blameless, innocent of great transgression" (Ps 19:12-14). Catholics who have such dispositions towards Tradition may find themselves on the high ground in some areas, while completely blindsided by others. I think this is especially the case when it comes to a critical spirit, and pride--dangerous and pernicious sins that burr into the crevices of our spirit and make a home without us even realizing it. 

While I believe the Holy Father's inquisition against Traditionalists is unjust and targeted, it is similar to the way stereotypes operate--there is always a degree of truth in the broad-brushing. Are Traditionalists one-hundred percent "Triumphalist, self-absorbed, Promethean neo-Pelagians?" as Pope Francis has uncharitably referred to them? Of course not. Are there degrees and elements of this in many of them? For sure. Are traditionalists greater saints than the rest of us? God only knows.

I find myself slipping into this kind of subtle nose-snubbing, sometimes without even realizing it, separating traditional Priests and congregants from N.O. priests and congregants in a kind of unconscious "A-list" and "B-list", Marines vs. Army, etc. I think part of that is that I am using the wrong canon (ruler) to measure with. While I believe that the Extraordinary Form is as a matter of objectivity more beautiful, more reverent, and more fitting liturgy for worship than the Ordinary Form, this is not a silver bullet for transforming oneself or one's family into saints on it's own. The canon in this sense for us should not be "which liturgy is more reverent" or "which group of congregants has it right," but "to what degree am I being made holy myself?" 

I have written before about various reasons why, were push come to shove as it relates to the implementation of Traditionis Custodes, assisting at the SSPX is off the table for us. This is a personal decision that every individual and head of household needs to discern for themselves, what line they will and will not cross were the Latin Mass to be taken from them. I have wrestled a lot with this, and do not take these matters lightly. While educating myself on the history, their canonical status and Archbishop Lefebvre himself, I have grown more sympathetic and understanding towards the Society. 

But there are still elements which give me pause, despite those who seem to gloss over such issues. I've already written about the marriage issue here. But there is another more general disposition being that many Society priests will provide council against attendance at the New Mass, even when there is no traditional Mass available:

"When it comes to attendance at the Novus Ordo Mass, SSPX priests do not hesitate to tell faithful that they should not attend that Mass under any circumstances, even on a Sunday and in a place where no traditional Mass is available. It is a very clear and straightforward matter. 

The purpose of attending Mass is to give glory to God and to sanctify one’s soul. But we hold that the New Mass is not pleasing to God and so dishonors Him. As such, to attend the Novus Ordo Mass is to go against the very purpose for going to Mass. Instead of honoring God by attending Mass, one is dishonoring God by doing so. "

If one takes this matter of not fulfilling their Sunday obligation lightly, they should prayerfully reconsider what is at stake here. For this counsel no longer becomes one of preference or objective reverence, but elevates a beautiful and reverent illicit Mass above a potentially banal and unedifying Mass which is nevertheless both valid and licit. In other words, in the example of when one is traveling, there is no excuse to forgo Sunday Mass even when there is no Traditional Latin Mass and the Novus Ordo is the only option. Canon 844.2 states:

§2. Whenever necessity requires it or true spiritual advantage suggests it, and provided that danger of error or of indifferentism is avoided, the Christian faithful for whom it is physically or morally impossible to approach a Catholic minister are permitted to receive the sacraments of penance, Eucharist, and anointing of the sick from non-Catholic ministers in whose Churches these sacraments are valid.

There is no doubt or argument that the sacrament of Holy Eucharist is valid when confected in Society chapels. There is also no doubt that whenever necessity requires it, the Church permits the faithful to receive these valid Sacraments. I think the issue here is the license the faithful take with "as true spiritual advantage suggests." That is, the argument being made is that the Novus Ordo is so egregiously offensive to God and so spiritually damaging to the formation of faith, that this constitutes justification for the regularization outside of emergency situations to take refuge in a SSPX chapel. In other words, the exception is now made the norm. In my own humble opinion, this is a tenuous reasoning that carries with it spiritual perils that may not be immediately apparent.  

Society priests were truly worthy of admiration during COVID when chapels were kept open as some diocesan churches shuttered in response to the virus; they recognized the "essential nature" of spiritual nourishment, whereas many diocesan parishes may have regarded it otherwise. Of course, this statement is easy to make in retrospect, when the reality is that two years ago was that no one really knew the degree of threat which the virus posed and how it was transmitted; pastors were making best judgments with limited information. To that end, a little grace would go a long way.

And yet, some saw this valiant witness of the SSPX during this time and took up a home there. Some (as one young father I am loosely acquainted with) even seemed to adopt a semi-Donatist mindset of regarding Novus Ordo priests who shut down churches and withheld sacraments during this period as apostates.  

All this being said, it is wishful thinking that the New Mass (which comprises over 98.5% of Masses celebrated in the United States) will go by the wayside. The reality on the ground is, most of your sacramental exposure--for better or for worse--will be proxy to a so-called "Novus Ordo priest."

I wrote in The Hunger Years that,

"A time is coming when people will seek absolution for their sins and find, not a priest unwilling to open the door, but no priest at all. A time is coming when people will notice they are hungry for the Eucharist, for the Holy Mass, for a blessing—the very things we take for granted today—and they will go away hungry because there is no priest to feed them. Faithful Catholics will want to have their children baptized, want to get married, and will find waiting lists months long. The churches they knew from their youth will be museums. Those in mortal sin will beg for a priest to hear their confession and will not be able to find one. Those possessed by demons will have no recourse, and exorcists will be so overwhelmed they will have no choice but to turn people away.

We are entering the mission era of the Church in the United States. You would be wise to prepare yourself now with spiritual food for the journey, with the Eucharist, daily Mass, Confession—because the hunger years are around the corner. Avoid mortal sin like the plague. Fast and pray for the Lord to call up mighty warrior priests who are not afraid to go into the fray. Get your own house in order so you can evangelize as a living example to others. Be open to life and welcoming of children. Instruct them well and be intentional about passing on the Faith and living it out. Encourage your sons to become priests if it is God’s will for them. Catholicism is not like other Christian denominations. No priests means no Mass. No Mass means no Eucharist. No Eucharist means no life within you."

When I get kind of liturgically and spiritually snobby without realizing it, I'm sometimes reminded that the vast majority of people in need of grace do not have ideological dogs in the fight. For some, they may have been away from the Church for decades and are just one confession away from salvation. For others, they may be Christians of a another denomination and have an insatiable appetite for the Lord's flesh and blood. Others may be on their deathbed and desire the grace of Extreme Unction to find a final resting place. Or, they might simply be like my Latin Mass attending friend who was going through a hard time in her life. I curtly tried to spare her one night when she asked where she could attend Mass in our area on a Tuesday, but was humbled at her response; "No TLM tonight; just the Novus Ordo," I said. She told me plainly in response, "Friend, I need Jesus."

There is an incredibly moving scene in Padre Pio: Miracle Man (1:47-1:51 for the particular scene) in which Padre Pio faces his Vatican persecutor during his final hours and illuminates the priest to a memory in which he closes the door on a soldier seeking absolution; the priest acted in fear and dereliction of duty, and the soldier was killed, unconfessed. The hardened priest is filled with shame, yet Padre Pio reassures him, "I absolved him for you," (by way of the miracle of bilocation). Not only that, but the saintly Padre Pio humbles himself before this priest to seek absolution at his hands in his final hours of life. Two priests--one saint, one sinner--embracing through the grace of the Sacrament.

I am relying on grace to preserve my family should our diocesan Latin Mass no longer be an option in the future, and I pray for discernment. It is not easy, nor is it easy to defer in a spirit of obedience our preferences when we are more inclined to dig our heels in in a spirit of defiance. I don't know what the right answer is, and continue to wrestle with it. But I do believe that God is faithful and will not abandon those who seek him with a pure heart. He will give us the grace we need on the day we need it, the way He provided daily manna for the wandering Israelites, even if it doesn't come in the form we expect. If we have the gift of the liturgy in the Extraordinary Form, thanks be to God. If God provides grace by way of the Novus Ordo, I do not want to spurn that grace. 

Take my life, Lord. Take my preferences and melt them in the refining fire of your love. Take my pride and my understanding and purify it for your glory. Take the impurities in my intentions and siphon them out, so that I am left with nothing but a contrite soul wholly dependent on you to live. Filter out a critical spirit and supplant it with pure gratefulness. Give me no more than my daily bread, that I may not curse you in hunger, nor forget you in satiation. Do not abandon me to the netherworld, but unite me with your servant so that I may pray, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me" (Ps 51:10).  

Letter to J

 J__,

Glory to Jesus Christ! Good to hear from you--was wondering if you had deployed yet, so figured you would have been busy and didn't want to contact you until you had settled in. I don't even know where Niger is on a map, so can't imagine living there for the next six months. 

On that note, though, it may be God's good will that you are in fact there now. D and I watched a film last night called "Mully" about a man in Kenya who was abadoned by his family as a child and lived begging as a street boy for ten years, before finding work and eventully moving his way up in the ranks. After a few years, he was an industrious, self-made millionaire. He got married, had eight children with his devoted wife, and was living the material dream in high society. 

One day he encountered some street boys on his way to an appointment in Narobi and he shooed them away. When he finished with his appointment, they had stolen his Mercedes and were nowhere to be found. He filed a police report and was forced to take the public bus back to his home. The whole way, he could not get the thought of those boys out of his mind. He was once in their shoes, after all.

When he returned home, he told his wife and children over dinner that he would no longer work another day for money, and that he would sell everything he had in order to rescue street children. He felt God was calling him to this. He started going to the streets and bringing one, two, four...then tens, twenties, hundreds of street children to his home. He wife would cook for them and wash them. It became pretty crazy after a while, hundreds of children in their home, and his own children were becoming somewhat resentful. Eventually they were sent to boarding school, while Mr. Mully continued bringing abandoned children to his home and caring for them.

The transformation is amazing, and the result of great faith and a wild abadonment to providence. His church elders kick him out, they want nothing to do with this undertaking. Most of the family's friends abandon them, encourage his wife to divorce him. One night as the money was about to run out, the family prays, and a truck with thousands of pounds of grain appears. 

In another instance, after they had outgrown their space and moved the Mully Children Foundation to the middle of the desert during a drought, he begins building a bridge like a Kenyan Noah, just because God told him to. They are running out of water, and he drives four hours each day just to fetch it from the closest town. He realizes the pressure, and so turns to God and once again prays. And God leads him and his wife out to a certain spot in the desert, and he says, "this is where we dig." There was never any successful well drilling in this region, and yet after several days of digging they amazingly hit water! A bonafide miracle, the result of faith. Using the water for the children and his family, but also for irrigation, they construct greenhouses and plant thousands of trees, actually transforming a barren wasteland over time into a lush green landscape with it's own microclimate (including rainfall). Amazing. Highly recommend the film.

It's funny you mentioned the Shia LeBeouf interview with Bishop Barron as well, because I finally got around to watching it yesterday, right before D and I watched Mully. I thought it was an interesting juxtaposition of the very polished, very intellectual, very estalished Bishop sitting down with this newly minted, unpolished, zealous neophyte who uses the word "douchey" in response to one of Barron's questions in the first like five minutes, and who "don't know nothing" about this or that. What he does know is that he at one point had a gun on the table and was saved by God's grace (and no doubt with help from St. Pio himself). I found the using him as a poster-boy for the Latin Mass by gloating trads missed a large chunk of the essence of the interview (though it was a part that wasn't lost on the audience, since Shia was so intentional about bringing it up). 

In the interview I found Shia to be refreshingly honest, unrefined, and real. I'm rooting for him. Though I respect some of the work Bishop Barron does, I have some reservations I can't quite put my finger on; though I do give him credit for having Shia on and deferring to his lengthy monologues without running too much interference. It's an interesting juxtaposition, these two figures. I think he, like you, recognizes that pernicious ego and pride that is at the root of so much of what we do. We get self-assured and righteous and then (hopefully, by God's grace) He humbles us by taking us out at the knees. Sounds like that's been your experience lately as well. The only antitode to pride is humility, and we only gain humility by going back to those basics like where Shia is--that we are sinners, that we still to a degree wear diapers even as adults in the faith, and that we cannot live without supernatural grace. Every time you think you're something, pray to be reminded that you're not (of course praying the Litany of Humility is a good practice as long as you are prepared for the prayer to be answered, which it will). I'd be curious how your experience in Africa will give you some perspective. I still think we are so spoiled here, forget that child-like faith that is so dependent on Providence (as I witnessed in the film I described to you above) in the African people, and how our material well-being is sometimes a great handicap to our spiritual health (for a challenging read, Happy Are You Poor by Fr. Thomas DuBay)

If I could share a musing as well...I know we had talked about the vaccine a couple years ago, I'm not sure if you were forced to get it being in the military, though I know you were resistant to it. I'm one of the only people in my circle I know to have gotten it--though I feel like I made the best decision I could at the time given the information I had, and my wife being in health-care who was taking care of her elderly father in law. Now I just feel that I was most likely lied to, given half-truths about its efficacy, and may have to deal with the unintended consequences of having taking it (2 doses 2 years ago, no booster, kids are unvaxxed). All my trad friends seem edified as more research comes to light, and I feel more and more duped, though at the time I felt my reasons for not getting it did not outweigh the reasons for getting it.

Of course it would have been another issue entirely if taking it made one culpable of sin. That is not the case, however, as the Church had already determined that one could take the vaccine in good conscience if they so choosed to (see Edward Feser's "The Catholic Middle Ground on Covid-19 vaccination" here). 

The reason I was thinking about this the other day was I had a Catholic friend from years past call up informing me that her annulment has been approved, and she was relieved and celebrating (I was aware she had gotten divorced). I was thinking about the vaccine and annulments--how if the Church determines there is no sin in receiving the vaccine, then there is no sin in receiving the vaccine, no-matter what self-appointed Catholic influencers, and even clergy say to the contrary. Likewise, if the Church rules in Her rightful authority a declaration of nullility, then one has to trust that and no self-appointed outside authority has the right to question or render judgment otherwise. The tribunals are the ones who will have to answer and account at the Judgment. We have to trust the authority of the Church.

All that being said, even though it's not a sin to get jabbed and not a sin to remarry, technically speaking, if one receives an annulment, THAT DOES NOT NECESSARILY MEAN IT'S A DE FACTO GOOD, WELL-INFORMED, OR MORAL THING TO DO! I have known people who knew they probably *could* have procured an annulment, though in their conscience they knew their marriage was sacramental, valid, and unbreakable and sought not to, even as their spouse did (and ultimately remarried or entered into an adulterous affair). I'm also growing suspect of these papal canonizations--St. Paul VI, and now the beatification of John Paul I. And yet, again, it is not my place or within my authority to say they are not saints!  It's above my pay-grade, as they say. That doesn't mean I have to have these popes on my spiritual speed-dial for intercessory prayer, though I (or anyone else) could if I felt some connection to them. But like the vax, like these rubber-stamped annulments, these recent canonizations just have me going 'huh.' Oh well. God will sort it out in the end.

Stay in touch, write anytime, stay safe, and pray for us, and we for you.

R

The New Circumcisers

 

A few weeks ago a friend sent me a post from a priest I know who was purporting that anyone who chose to “take the jab” (putting “vaccine” in quotes) would “probably be dead in two years” due to the antibody priming that was programmed into the jab. As if this wasn’t jarring enough, he exhorted those who did take this course of action to repent of doing so before they meet their inevitable demise. A follow-up post a few days later was the sharing of a meme in which Satan takes Jesus up to a high mountain (during the temptation) with the words “All of this can be yours if you just get 2 vaccines.”

I should say that this is a priest with a large and devoted following whose zeal and commitment to traditional Catholicism I admire. I would consider him unorthodoxly orthodox. I have gleaned some helpful teaching and admonishments in the past from him to live a more moral life, especially in regards to the practical application of the faith and how to live a traditional Catholic life. We have had text exchanges in the past, and he has said masses for us. That being said, unchecked zeal can be a precarious thing, and I have noticed most of his energies as of late have been directed into talking/writing about COVID and vaccination to a greater degree in an almost “prophetic” manner.

I am in the strange position of most of my circle being comprised of orthodox and traditional Catholics, many of whom who staunchly and as a matter of conscience have made the decision to not be vaccinate against COVID. Because it seems the government and the world are barreling down on them with the looming prospect of mandatory vaccinations in many spheres of life, vaccine passports, and the like, I would suspect many find solace and support in circles in which people feel similarly and hold similar views. These are all people of good will with a “live and let live” attitude who value freedom of conscience, personal liberty and autonomy. Because of my limited scope, I don’t know if this is a large or small contingent in the general populace, but from where I stand, it’s sizable.     

We all make choices and must accept the consequences of those choices; that is one thing. It is, however, quite another when a member of the clergy purports in a shocking and public manner predicting the death of millions of people who have vaccinated, and that they would die outside of a state of grace as a result, with no verifiable basis. I want to see traditional Catholicism grow and flourish, but not due to things like this. I would go so far as to say it is a wildly precarious position to put oneself in as a priest, and largely irresponsible to the state of souls, especially given that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has approved the moral licitness of receiving the vaccine. 

Though this may be a limited vantage point of spoiled American Catholicism that has the luxury of debating such things while our brother and sister Christians in Afghanistan, China, and Nigeria are being jailed and slaughtered for their faith, they do need to be dealt with. The Church has been dealing with how to live out the faith in the light of Revelation, and how to exercise its authority, stamp out heresy, and uphold orthodox teaching, from its founding.

While I wouldn’t put the issue of the role of vaccination or masking among Christians on the same level as some of the ‘crises’ within the early church community, it is something in which one finds contention within the church today among the faithful with pastoral implications. 

One of the first precursors to subsequent ecumenical councils was called in 50 AD due to the division within the Church over the issue of circumcision for gentiles among Jewish Christians. The Judaizers were a party of Jewish converts to Christianity who emphasized the necessity of retaining the Jewish customs, especially circumcision, to be saved. They also sought to impose this on the new Gentile believers, which is where the crisis in Antioch comes to a head. In his letter to the church at Galatia (where the Judaizers were also spreading their “mischief”), Paul takes a forceful tone for he sees the threat of a “little leaven” that has the potential to ruin the whole batch of dough:

“For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is of any avail, but faith working through love. You were running well; who hindered you from obeying the truth? This persuasion is not from him who called you. A little leaven leavens all the dough. I have confidence in the Lord that you will take no other view than mine; and he who is troubling you will bear his judgment, whoever he is. But if I, brethren, still preach circumcision, why am I still persecuted? In that case the stumbling block of the cross has been removed. I wish those who unsettle you would mutilate themselves!” (Galatians 5:6-12).

Paul also re-asserts the primacy of freedom from the law in Christ Jesus, and of grace, in the service of love to one another:

“For you were called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But if you bite and devour one another take heed that you are not consumed by one another” (Galatians 5:13-15) 

At the Council of Jerusalem, Peter recounts his encounter with Cornelius who was a God-fearing Gentile. Cornelius was sent by the Holy Spirit to Peter to make sense of his vision in Acts 10 in which Peter is commanded to “kill and eat” what he had previously regarded as unclean. When Peter preaches to Cornelius and his household that “God shows no partiality” (v. 34), and to underscore the new covenant which is still being fleshed out among the believers, the Holy Spirit comes upon the Gentiles gathered there and reference is made to “the believers among the circumcised” who “were amazed” that the uncircumcised would receive this gift. As the saying goes, one should not “major in the minors” and so baptism (which is, in fact, necessary for salvation) is carried out regardless of the whether one was circumcised or not (not a prerequisite for being saved, as the Judaizers claimed).

Paul’s famous “I opposed Peter to his face” encounter is recorded in Galatians 2 in reference to Peter’s lack of integrity over this issue. Peter had previously eaten with Gentile converts (the uncircumcised) but out of fear of the judgment of the circumcision party and zealots who came down to Antioch, withdrew from doing so until being confronted by Paul. Though Peter and Paul were of the same mind in terms of principals, the practical conduct of believers and how to enforce it was what was in question.  

Paul forcefully adjurated any possibility that such discrimination be allowed to take place within the body of believers, and St. Peter in true humility recognizes the justice inherent in such a rebuke. The authority to declare that Gentile believers are saved by faith not by circumcision or the law comes from Peter, who holds the authority to make such declarations for the Church.

However, as to quell contention among the two groups, James advances the pastoral initiative in Acts 15:28 “For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay upon you no greater burden than these necessary things.” What were these necessary things? “That you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from unchastity” (Acts 15:29).

The issues of the day for the early believers around 50 AD was whether the non-circumcised would be saved. In 2021, as a result of the mischief of a few who end up laying a “greater burden” than is necessary on the faithful, the issue in the aforementioned circumstance is whether or not the vaccinated will be damned (on its account). The Magisterium, even if She has taken the more “liberal” approach in warranting to allow for those who wish to get vaccinated without fear of sin, should give solace to those faithful who wish to do so without threat of scruples or scandal. 

As for being judged in the court of opinion by the faithful who continue to fuel the fire of these kinds of erroneous assertions from celebrity priests, I have not been subjected. This is because my friends and those I associate with are largely, as I said, people of good faith and good will who happen to have come to a different stance than I have by way of their conscience. 

But for those (primarily on-line) New Circumcisers that saddle one’s vaccination status with a soteriological element, they should be opposed to their face for spreading mischief to the weaker brethren. Extra-Catholica Jansenism is a bad look for the Church. “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is of any avail, but faith working through love.” (Gal 5:6). For every idle word tweeted or posted, they will be forced to give account at the Judgment. 

Mine Charity Has Run Cold

I sometimes wonder these days if I am alone in feeling numb to the world, though I suspect not. The repeated ripping off of the scab of the past year and a half has produced a kind of scarring of our collective psyches, I think, in a kind of low-level trauma. 

This past week I got messages from friends of people we know in the ICU with COVID; people who have been fired from their job because of vaccine mandates; friends' diocese who have been stripped of the Latin Mass; the debacle of the withdraw from Afghanistan; the re-emergence of the delta variant and the constantly shifting goalposts of CDC protocol; and devastating weather-related incidents. Add to this my own personal work-related stresses due to personnel change and other internal pressures, and I feel like I'm on the ropes just taking body blows. 

I may be more susceptible to it, but in times of stress and, dare I say, trauma, I think it is common for the mind and body to kind of shut down as a defense response. In many ways, lately, I have gone numb. Care and concern feels like a luxury for good times when you have the bandwidth for it. This is the embarassing truth, when gold is tried by fire to become pure gold. That is, when faith be genuine it be tested by suffering and comes out genuine (1 Peter 1:7) 

I am in survival mode. My prayer is a pilot-light: steady and sustained, but not heating anything. I feel I have very little of myself to give; certainly not of any caliber of those of the saints. We like to imagine ourselves a Maximilian Kolbe or a Fr. Ciszek ministering to our brothers and sisters in the gulags during such times. It's humbling to realize your reserves are pretty shallow, and your selfish self-preservation deep. 

If I'm honest, too, I have noticed with a bit of horror a kind of resentment in myself in being a cheer-giver during such difficult times as well. I'm running on empty myself, and catch my self thinking, "Who will fill me up? Who will cheer me on? I am done with this. I have nothing to give." I've retracted my sphere, into concentrating on my family and my work, and my faith is in maintenance mode. Even when I have wanted to serve, it seems opportunities have dried up with COVID liability fear.

One thing that has shook me, made me cynical, is that I trust very few people these days. I don't know who to listen to. I don't trust what's coming out of Washington or the Vatican alike. But I've also felt turned out by voices I previously thought were solid, who I no longer trust. Whether they are false prophets or true prophets I will leave to the Lord to judge, but the things they speak no longer resonate with me. If there is anything diabolical about this virus, it is it's ability to deceive and divide, and there are no shortage of people on both sides riding its coattails. 

In reading the scriptures, our Lord sets as a precursor that false prophets precede the running cold of love among the faithful:

"And Jesus answering, said to them: Take heed that no man seduce you: For many will come in my name saying, I am Christ: and they will seduce many. And you shall hear of wars and rumours of wars. See that ye be not troubled. For these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; and there shall be pestilences, and famines, and earthquakes in places: Now all these are the beginnings of sorrows. 

Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall put you to death: and you shall be hated by all nations for my name's sake. And then shall many be scandalized: and shall betray one another: and shall hate one another. And many false prophets shall rise, and shall seduce many. And because iniquity hath abounded, the charity of many shall grow cold." (Mt 24:4-12)

There are two things that fill me with terror: the thought of hearing the Lord say, "I knew thee not," (Lk 13:27), and to not have love (charity). For what does St. Paul say, should our love run cold? Everything becomes for naught:

"If I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And if I should have prophecy and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity is patient, is kind: charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up; Is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never falleth away: whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away." (1 Cor 13:1-10)

Some days I lament that I will never be a saint, because I am nothing more than a common man with an average-amount of love to give. That I will be put into the furnace and disintegrate, crack under pressure, turn over my brothers, surrender my faith. That my trust in the Lord to achieve the impossible is untenable. I pray so much for the grace of final perseverance these days, and try never to miss First Fridays and First Saturdays, because it is only grace that will sustain me--I am realistic enough to know I have no power or greatness in myself of my own accord. 

I have grown weary in love, tired and distrustful of anyone but the Lord Christ, feeling used up and washed out. Lord, please renew your charity within me so that I may serve your people. Because the love of the world is in me, the love of the Father is not. Take this worldly love from me, Lord. I can do nothing without you, and nothing without love matters. Lord. send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth. Replace this heart of stone with a heart of flesh so I may do Your will. 

Anathema

 After reading Fr. Nix's "Several Reasons Why You Should Not Take The Jab" which he published today on his blog, and going through the check mark of things on this list (listed below), I felt like I needed to write. 

The reasons, summarized from his post (for expansion on the points, click link above):

1. It was made from cell lines from aborted babies.  

2. It might kill you.  

3. It is pushed by government coercion.  

4. It is going to be the first of dozens of jabs you need.  

5. It is not stopping COVID.  

6. It is not a vaccine but rather an “mRNA spike-protein inducer” that promises “cumulative damage and chronic inflammation to cells for years to come.” 

7. Fauci’s NIH has admitted to funding the Wuhan lab.  

Let me start by saying I have almost no friends anymore who are not Catholic or at least Christian people of faith. A good number of my friends are also traditional Catholics and everything that entails. I have many friends who, like Fr. Nix (who I consider a friend as well, albeit loosely) who are bulldogs of tenacity, a trait of digging into a position or stake of ground and not letting go that I admire. Probably because I don't possess that trait myself. 

 As I was sitting down to write this evening, I came across two proverbs; one from scripture, one from an unknown source. I had been thinking about them a lot. The first:

"The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that is wise hearkeneth unto counsels." (Prov 12:15)

The second:

"A wise man changes his mind; a fool never will."

I am a story teller. It's what I do here. I am not a religious, an influencer, or anyone important. I don't have any authority or sway, and so it has always been my prerogative here and in my offline life to tell stories using myself as the subject, because I own the rights and don't have to ask permission. If it is of benefit to others, what a grace; please take it as a free gift. If it's not--if it causes scandal or leads one farther from Truth, then please go (but tell me first, in charity!) One of the freedoms of not being a person of prominence is I can make my own decisions and let you do the same, without feeling undue burden. We all need to make our own choices--moral, practical, financial, familial--and we all need to take responsibility for them.

I had also been thinking about the things Fr. Nix wrote. I don't disagree with them, and even if I did I'm sure he would have a pretty swift counter as he does so well. 

I've been thinking about my historical lack of prudence in putting myself in pretty dicey situations to follow the Lord where He leads--from crossing into Mexico and meeting an ex-con in a deportation shelter and traveling with him to meet his family in the middle of nowhere, to flying to Thailand to attend an 11 day silent Buddhist retreat in the middle of the jungle, to being engaged to an ex-exotic dancer/bartender/tattoo model...I could go on but you get the idea. Prudence is not one of my strong suits.

I had also been thinking about my mortality more. Not in the traditional sense of "I'm scared to die!" but "Lord, if you want to take me now, please do." This with a wife and three young kids as well. I'm not afraid to die. I don't want to suffer any more than the next guy, but I don't always make my decisions obsessed with how to prolong my life. Most days, I just want to be with the Lord. But it's often harder to live than to die. 

So, with all that being said, I made a decision to "take the jab" in April. My wife, a healthcare worker, did as well. No one coerced us. I didn't pore over hours of research. Much like the reasoning I used in discernment in moving my family to the Latin Mass to preserve my children's faith, it was a calculated risk, not any kind of silver bullet. I knew some people who were getting it and many who were not. To this day, I think people should be able to conscientiously make these choices for themselves. 

I'm not writing this to justify my decision, or get out from under the guilt I sometimes feel. I wasn't 'scared of COVID" or "scared of dying." If anything, I was somewhat brazen early on. I was initially very much against getting vaccinated; when I reflected on why, it was pretty simple--most of the people I know, and many I trust, were dead set against it. 

Somewhere along the way, I wanted to figure out my reasons for not wanting to "take the jab" and considered a court scenario where if I was put on the stand and asked simple questions such as "Sir, why did you decide against the jab?" and I would say something like, "Well, this priest said if I did I was complicit in the murder of innocents; it's a spike protein untested unapproved experimental gene therapy mRNA thing that alters your nucleotides or something like that; I just don't trust it, it's too new and I dont want to put foreign things in my body; plus the NWO is pushing it and if I do it's as bad as offering a pinch of incense to idols or Caesar." Etc. 

The fact was, though, that my reasons for not getting it--though potentially valid--I didn't feel would hold up in this court-hearing scenario. I have no beef with vaccines. Though this one is surely different, though? It probably is in some ways. Like I said, it was a calculated risk. I may see long-term adverse effects somewhere down the road (I had no immediate adverse effects from the shot, nor did my wife). But I figured that getting COVID, or long-COVID, was a risk too. Again, this is not something I lost sleep over or fretted about. I was not "living in fear" as many have said about others who were more concerned about the virus than I was. I had no ideological stake in the game. My father in law was sick and elderly, and my wife a healthcare worker, so it seemed...prudent. Again, I am not a prudent person by nature. 

The fact is, I didn't think much about it. I had the opportunity, I made an appointment, and it was over and done. I will take responsibility for that decision, and will have to answer for it at my individual judgment. I have no desire to take up this crusade either for or against this massive thing that dominates the news and has real implications to restrict freedom of choice, government coercion, etc. It has real implications for real people who choose to forgo "the jab"--loss of employment, travel bans, etc. To this point, it certainly does seem like a kind of soft communism Fr. Nix alludes to. 

At some point, this crusade got taken up as a litmus as to what kind of Catholic you are. Are you a "mask wearing" Catholic? Are you a "COVID denier?" Are you "scared of a little virus?" Are you "Anti-vaxx?" If you want to fit in, you learn how to speak, what to say and what not to say. I have told maybe four people in four months that I "took the jab." I have felt shame, not because of the decision itself, but because I am too sensitive to what people think. And I knew where most of the people I am friends with stand. 

I still remember the pain of losing my friend, early in my conversion 2.0, over Obergefell. He couldn't reconcile my evolution from supporting gay marriage to being against it, and affirming the lifestyle not as something indifferent or to be celebrated, but sinful--with our friendship. I never spoke to him again. And that was ok. It hurt, and I cried, but I understood. God was pruning and it hurt like a mf. But He does it for our good. 

It's very hard to know what to believe today. Who to listen to. Where to get your information. I'll be the first to admit I may not have made the right choice in "taking the jab." The older I've gotten, the less interested I am in judging others. That has extended to caring less about how I, too, am judged. 

For some people I know, this may be a hill to die on, and such a concession an anathema to any kind of friendship. For others, maybe not to so much. I'm not as concerned with that, or my standing as a Catholic. I wrote about the distraction at work by Satan's hand in Extra-Catholica. I do love my friends, so I hope they will forgive me. If they think less of me, or that it invalidates anything good I may have written or lived prior, that is not really my concern. 

Maybe there are other people like me out there--who feel like Catholic defectors, who may have wanted to resist the vax but coming up short on why with reasons that held water for them personally, who are not sure their standing now--does this make me a liberal? A traitor? A coward? I'm not a wise man, but I did change my mind. I don't know what that means exactly; but the responsibility is mine to live with. I share it now as permission to exit gracefully if you choose, I will not be offended! I will continue to write about the faith as our family lives it. And I still wish God would take my home tomorrow. 

These are not easy times to discern in, and I will be the first to admit I may have made a mistake. But I made it with the information I had, knowing and weighing various risks, and with a clean conscience. Judge as you must. I'll keep telling stories like I always have. I may not have mastered prudence in my lifetime. But I'll always be honest with you, I promise you that much. 

The Catholic Underground

 If COVID brought out anything good in our populace, it was that many of us found our little "inner prepper" to varying degrees. Society stocked up on toilet paper. In our family's case, we did a little extra emergency food prep, buying bulk dried beans, split peas, and lentils. Though one can easily go overboard, it doesn't hurt to be prepared for things and look ahead a little. 

One of my big projects last year while I was working from home was renovating our shed. The shed was a mess, but the structure itself was in good shape, and it was huge by shed standards (12'x24'). I don't know what I had in mind exactly--I didn't need the space to work, but it would be nice to have a functional retreat house on the property. I insulated and paneled the walls and roof, laid flooring, and installed a small writing desk, a countertop, and a nice futon and sitting chair. I had a propane heater, a handwashing sink, and framed out the back third for storage (which I eventually shiplapped and carpeted) and installed solar panels and an inverter for electric. 

I also made a devoted space for an altar in the event we were consigned to have de-facto "underground" Masses if the churches remained shut down. At that point in COVID-time, no one really knew which way this thing was going to go. When my son started serving Mass at the beginning of COVID, we asked our priest to provide "papers" in case we were stopped crossing state lines (which we have to do to reach our parish). It was kind of surreal. 

Of course, as anyone who has lived in Communist-bloc countries knows, the underground Church is not a play-scenario, but a daily reality when freedom of worship is restricted. The underground Church has become the true Church in these countries. (For some background on the sham State-sponsored puppet churches controlled by the Communist party in China, see my post "Subversion.")

The Church has gone through such periods throughout its history throughout the world. In Ireland in the 17th century, for example, this kind of underground Church took place in the woods. From Wikipedia:

"A Mass rock (Carraig an Aifrinn in Irish) was a rock used as an altar in mid-17th century Ireland as a location for Catholic Mass. Isolated locations were sought to hold religious ceremonies, as observing the Catholic Mass was a matter of difficulty and danger at the time as a result of both Cromwell's campaign against the Irish, and the Penal Law of 1695. Bishops were banished and priests had to register to preach under the 1704 Registration Act. Priest hunters were employed to arrest unregistered priests and Presbyterian preachers under an Act of 1709.

In many instances a stone would be taken from a church ruin, and relocated to a rural area, with a simple cross carved on its top. Because the activity was illegal, the services were not scheduled and parishioners would be obliged to spread the word of them informally. By the late 17th century worship generally moved to thatched Mass houses."

I figured it didn't hurt to have something like this with our shed for our faithful friends should the need ever arise. We know priests who would be willing to offer Mass and the Sacraments in this way, though it seems extreme at this point while churches are opening back up and restrictions are being relaxed. We could fit about 30 or so people in the shed for Mass given it's size. Like I said, kind of a last-resort and just trying to make concessions for future scenarios. 

What got me thinking from the situation in 17th century Ireland was "services were not scheduled and parishoners would be obliged to spread the word of them informally." We saw snippets of this during COVID, at least in our circles--word of mouth in trying to locate priests and churches who would baptize, hear confessions, and offer Mass, or even where to obtain some blessed and exorcised salt. Those who were more cultural Catholics were happy with livestreaming Masses or not attending Mass at all. But for those who were hungry for spiritual bread, these kinds of networks developed.

I think it's important to have a strong, informal Catholic network outside the parish bounds. We will be hosting a gathering of Catholics in the area this week at our home to study one of the lives of the saints, pray, and have fellowship. I was surprised by how many people ended up saying they were coming; it was encouraging, but it was, again, this kind of informal network my wife and I feel called to develop. There are a lot of disconnected Catholics out there, like little islands, and we believe there is strength in numbers in such support networks. It is relatively easy to do by email, and though I'm not on social media anymore, that could be a medium.

But I remember growing up in the 80's and 90's before the internet and cellphones, we had things like 'zines that were printed by hand. I had a small wallet-sized notebook of phone numbers of friends and family. Basement shows were advertised by black and white fliers and word of mouth of who was playing when and where. If there was a party at someone's house, people just knew about it one way or another. The internet has brought us together and isolated us at the same time. It's like the Matrix--it feels so real, and yet it's not really real. There's a part of me that misses the simplicity of that era in getting the word out through these kind of informal networks and word of mouth. 

I once had a lot of hope in the "New Evangelization" and the internet as a medium to spread the Faith and evangelize to the masses. Now I think the opposite is true--online "virtual" keyboard Catholicism is too easy; it isn't intentional, and it isn't really real. Combox warriors are in their own little world, far removed from intentional community and often by choice, and often bring out an ugly incestuous side of Catholicism unattractive to observant outsiders. We don't need more parish programs or conferences--we need flesh and blood Catholic community as a means of survival.

The people who want to make these real life connections will find a way, if given the word-of-mouth opportunity. There will always be a place for online apologetics like Catholic Answers for those curious about the claims of the faith. But if you want community, you have to build community, and that's what we are trying to do as a family with what we've been given. It takes some effort, and sometimes it can be messy and take you out of your comfort zone, but depending on how the future of worship trends, it may also prove to be invaluable for those who are truly seeking it out. 

Extra Catholica: A Quick and Dirty Post

As mask mandates at the state level begin to wind down, we seem to be faced with yet another extra-Catholica point of contention occupying many Catholics' conscience which actually does have a (remote?) moral dimension: to vaccinate or not to vaccinate. 

Again, the degeneration of the point at hand into caricatures is lamentable: Are all those who choose to "take the jab" for whatever reason "scaredy-cat Catholics living in fear of a virus with a 99% survival rate?" Are those who choose to forgo it "staunch Anti-vaxxer" conspirators either opposed to or suspicious of big pharma and the New World Order? 

I have friends and fellow Catholics on both sides of the aisle here. Being neither competent in bioethics or moral theology, I'll reiterate something I wrote in "Navigating the Catholic Culture War" when masking was the the issue du jour just a few months ago:

"Somewhere along the line, the whole COVID anti-masking thing became conflated with traditionalism, and the social media conjecturing became for some a parrot of leftist virtue signaling (posting photos in masks, photos of one getting the vaccine, etc). Which gets a little confusing I imagine if your in that Venn-intersection of points. Most of the traditionalists I know are also staunchly against masking as a matter of principal. It would be strange, really, at least in my sphere, if someone was adamantly pro-mask and a traditional Catholic, kind of like a non-sequitur. This may tie in with the idea of a globalist New World Order in which mandatory masking is part of the overall global agenda to vaccinate and depopulate, and that to participate in it makes one complicit in ultimately undermining liberty and personal autonomy.

Once again, I find myself just right of center on the issue: I reluctantly mask when I have to (though using it as a chin cup whenever I can) because I think they are disgusting and for the most part ineffective, and never really for extended periods of time thankfully. I hate that I can't see people's smiles or expressions. Am I willing to go to jail over it? Probably not. Call me unprincipled. 

But does it undermine my Catholicism? Not that I was ever in da club the first place, but does traditionalism extend beyond the liturgy into these peripheral spheres, I wonder. Does one gain something from a traditionalist's standpoint for not wearing a mask or choosing not to get vaccinated? Or if something the Pope does is given a sympathetic gesture, does it undermine their street-cred? Is traditionalism about traditional worship and living out the virtues, or the principled peripheral items that determine one's standing? How does one make these determinations for themselves, and what if they come to a conclusion that goes against these cultural norms?" 

If I had to slam a nail down on the issue at hand swirling around in these distractions, I would say the role of the conscience begins to rise to the surface so that it should at least be brought up. John Henry Cardinal Newman is probably my favorite saint to explore this existential praxis:

"Conscience is a law of the mind; yet [Christians] would not grant that it is nothing more; I mean that it was not a dictate, nor conveyed the notion of responsibility, of duty, of a threat and a promise.... [Conscience] is a messenger of him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by his representatives. Conscience is the aboriginal Vicar of Christ."   

--"Letter to the Duke of Norfolk," V, in Certain Difficulties felt by Anglicans in Catholic Teaching II (London: Longmans Green, 1885), 248.

The queer thing about conscience is that the end choice of a moral wrestling may emerge in a different guise in one person than it does in another. This is not the justifying of things always contra to the moral law (apostasy, fornication, birth control, etc), but to the degree we have the moral freedom to "love and do what thou will" as St. Augustine said, one person's apparent 'sin' in things extra Catholica is another's clear conscience, while simultaneously not being in contradiction to the moral law.

I think Paul's words to the Corinthians in 1 Cor 8 is worth mulling over a bit here:

"Now about food sacrificed to idols: We know that “We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. But whoever loves God is known by God.

"So then, about eating food sacrificed to idols: We know that “An idol is nothing at all in the world” and that “There is no God but one.” For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”), yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live.

But not everyone possesses this knowledge. Some people are still so accustomed to idols that when they eat sacrificial food they think of it as having been sacrificed to a god, and since their conscience is weak, it is defiled. But food does not bring us near to God; we are no worse if we do not eat, and no better if we do.

Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak. For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol’s temple, won’t that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols? So this weak brother or sister, for whom Christ died, is destroyed by your knowledge. When you sin against them in this way and wound their weak conscience, you sin against Christ. Therefore, if what I eat causes my brother or sister to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause them to fall."

But food does not bring us near to God; we are no worse if we do not eat, and no better if we do. Good "food" for thought here (pun intended)

This is the 'extra catholica' I refer to in the modern context. And as I often, at least try, to do, I want to hold up a mirror: for the staunch and faithful Catholics whose conscience compels them to forgo the jab, resist masks, and any additional accouterments that attach themselves to those convictions--how are you regarding your brother in Christ who does not? 

Dig deep. Do you harbor contempt and/or judgment? Do you presume his reasons for doing so ("He must be scared. He's a blind sheeple. He's weak-willed.") Do you will his good, even if it looks different than what you have determined to be the good? Do you paint in broad strokes? Do you dismiss their words? Do you speak ill of them? Condemn them? 

If you don't, I give you credit--you are doing better than I am. It is alarmingly easy to suddenly become the grimacing old woman in the pew scowling at the ill-behaved children, the lack of a veil, the communion-in-the-hand-receiving parishioner. And lest you think this has no moral consequence, remember our Lord's words:

"For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged" (Mt 7:2)

I want to spare the scrupulous, for they do not need extra helpings of condemnation. So maybe it would be more beneficial to think of it in terms of energy, to which I turn to the erudite and simple-hearted St. Teresa of Calcutta:

 "If you judge people, you have no time to love them." 

This is what I see as the unfortunate waste of extra-Catholica issues: it's not that the issue at hand is not important or has not moral dimension, but that it siphons off what we need to do what is at the heart of the Christian life, and that is to love. I'd like to say it better than Mother, but I can't. Even in writing this post, it's not to condemn or lament, but to remind. I'm not your judge or arbiter, but sometimes we just need someone to hold up a mirror which is really all I see my role as. 

In the inner sanctuary of the conscience, we stand alone before God--we do not answer to each other, to our fellow parishioners, or even the Pope. This is the existential dimension of the Christian: to make the choices--even in seemingly peripheral matters that DO MATTER--and take radical responsibility for them. The Christian life is not completely objective (it is always a sin to 'x') and not completely subjective (it is never a sin when I 'y'), but a pivoting and discerning dance between these two dimensions. Can we judge actions and sin--of course. And not only that, we are called to. Thankfully we have the moral law to make those determinations objectively, to speak the truth in love. But it is the subjective dimension--the choices of others--that may take a little more digging, a little more prudent discernment.

I don't know about you, but my energy is in short supply these days. Last year, I was completely over-extended, partly because I did not guard it as carefully for the things that mattered. I learned a hard lesson from that--to focus on the fundamental things--my faith, my family, my prayer life, my responsibilities--and not have things siphon off from what was important. Judgement, worry and anxiety, anger--these are the things in our spiritual lives which siphon off from the source the very things we need to be careful to preserve. Which is why these extra catholica issues, for me at least, have become wearisome and distracting. I love less and less effectively to the degree with which I am judging my brother. I know this, for myself, to be true. We all have to bear the judgment for our actions and moral choices when we stand alone before God, and bear account of every idle word spoken. 

For me, it's a sobering thought. Maybe it is for you too? 

Navigating The Catholic Culture War

 There are two things I appreciate about our informal Catholic men's group we formed a few years ago: it developed organically and is not an Official Parish Program (TM) or tied to a particular parish; we meet In Real Life for prayer, service, and fellowship, and have no real online component except for an email listserv. 

Because the men (ranging in age from early thirties to mid-forties) run the spectrum--from slightly more progressively-minded to more conservative, and from charismatic to traditionalist--we have a healthy mix of perspectives and viewpoints. Some of us attend the Latin Mass, while others do not. Some of the guys are on Facebook, others are not. But the meat and potatoes of our existence is in person. We get together for a weekly early morning Lectio Divina, have lent muscle to the local Little Sisters of the Poor in clearing downed trees, and during this Holy Week, met at a church for midnight prayer on Good Friday.

The more I contrast this with my past experience on social media, the more appreciative I am that we are not tied or bound by such a medium. We are able to exist together, in part, because we don't cancel or attack each other, even if there are things we may not agree on. There's a healthy respect, kind of the way you don't get too deep into anything with your next door neighbor, because if it goes south...well, you still have to live next to them. 

When I contrast this with the tunnel-vision one acquires online, where one can cut ties with little sense of loss, it's that these IRL relationships are more forgiving, with some 'bend' so as not to break; kind of the way an expansion tank on your hot water heater serves to absorb and release some of the pressure so the main tank doesn't blow up. I've found myself interacting and becoming close friends with guys who didn't vote for Trump, who may be more COVID-cautious, who aren't traditionally-minded when it comes to liturgy, and who may be more sympathetic to Pope Francis than I am. And they are all good, solid guys. It feels...I don't know...healthy to have the opportunity to have this kind of cross-section of Catholicism, as long as we can agree on the fundamentals. All of us "belong" in this group in the sense that we are men, and we are Catholic.

Though our family attends the Traditional Latin Mass exclusively, I would not consider myself a traditionalist. Maybe trad-sympathetic is more fitting, if we are doing labels. I will generally avoid going to the Ordinary Form unless I have no other option, but I would not necessarily walk out in protest if it was in fact my only option. I don't think Vatican II led to the kind of renewal it envisioned, but I don't write it off as an invalid council either. I don't really listen to much of what Pope Francis has to say in the news, but I try very hard not to disparage either out of respect for the Chair. Honestly, I don't know what the technical qualifications would be to be considered a traditionalist in the formal sense, and I'm probably not one anyway because I haven't cared enough to find out.

Somewhere along the line, the whole COVID anti-masking thing became conflated with traditionalism, and the social media conjecturing became for some a parrot of leftist virtue signaling (posting photos in masks, photos of one getting the vaccine, etc). Which gets a little confusing I imagine if your in that Venn-intersection of points. Most of the traditionalists I know are also staunchly against masking as a matter of principal. It would be strange, really, at least in my sphere, if someone was adamantly pro-mask and a traditional Catholic, kind of like a non-sequitur. This may tie in with the idea of a globalist New World Order in which mandatory masking is part of the overall global agenda to vaccinate and depopulate, and that to participate in it makes one complicit in ultimately undermining liberty and personal autonomy.

Once again, I find myself just right of center on the issue: I reluctantly mask when I have to (though using it as a chin cup whenever I can) because I think they are disgusting and for the most part ineffective, and never really for extended periods of time thankfully. I hate that I can't see people's smiles or expressions. Am I willing to go to jail over it? Probably not. Call me unprincipled. 

But does it undermine my Catholicism? Not that I was ever in da club the first place, but does traditionalism extend beyond the liturgy into these peripheral spheres, I wonder. Does one gain something from a traditionalist's standpoint for not wearing a mask or choosing not to get vaccinated? Or if something the Pope does is given a sympathetic gesture, does it undermine their street-cred? Is traditionalism about traditional worship and living out the virtues, or the principled peripheral items that determine one's standing? How does one make these determinations for themselves, and what if they come to a conclusion that goes against these cultural norms? 

The people I know in real life, whether traditionalists or otherwise, bless me with a lot of grace and bend. One of the nice things about IRL is that we don't live by caricatures or quick denigration, but through respect, boundaries, and nuance. I can be of a different mind on a host of topics and still be able to have a comfortable drink together, and even some spirited debate when warranted. 

What I do have sympathies for, is new traditionally minded Catholics who may not want to or be prepared to navigate all these peripheral issues of masks and which-bishops-are-the-good-ones and politics. What they may simply want, is Jesus and the One True Faith. As in the Mystery of the Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple, all that matters in the moment is WE HAVE TO FIND JESUS. 

I had the privilege of witnessing a 26 year old young man come into the Church by way of the TLM last week. The relief and sense of gratitude for finding that lost coin upon returning to his pew after being confirmed took me back to that Beginner's Heart attitude that can get lost in this kind of stupid Catholic Culture war--who is or isn't trad enough, who is a heretic, who needs to be canceled or put in their place or enlightened with a barrage of articles and websites. One of the nice things now is that we can plug him into some community with our IRL men's group, hopefully, to walk with him in his faith and support him.

My wife and I will be hosting a large gathering at our home for every Catholic family of every stripe that we know next month. We wanted to give the opportunity to have these kind of things--cross-sections of otherwise disconnected local Catholic families across parishes to meet each other and have some good food and company to know they're not alone and completely on their own--whether their pro-mask or anti-mask, traditionalist of Novus Ordo, liberal or conservative. I'd ask for your prayers for good weather, since there will be almost a hundred people with kids and we'll be outside in our backyard. It should be a fun example of Venn Diagram Catholicism at it's finest!

The Open Church

Continuing the theme of conversion, I wanted to touch on the topic of locked churches.

I’m in Phoenix for the week visiting friends and attending the local FSSP parish while I’m here. It’s a small mission church and like most traditional orders is in the ‘not-so-nice’ part of town, with lots of homeless people around. 

Whenever I travel, I have found refuge in the church (small c) in whatever town or city I found myself. I also heard from at least two people recently who had experienced conversions that the ‘unlocked church’—where they could just go into to sit or pray or experience some peace and quiet away from the world—was the catalyst for them coming to Christ and his Church. Which is why the idea of the ‘locked church’ (esp during the days of COVID) seems like such a tragedy.

Now, I understand the pragmatic reasons for keeping a church locked during the day especially in the ‘bad part of town.’ But I can’t tell you the times I’ve visited an adoration chapel in the middle of the night during a crisis, or was relieved to find a church open in off hours when I needed it most. How many people have experienced the still silence and opportunity to quiet the soul when they most needed it as well.

I was talking to a woman at work who brought her three kids to register at a local Catholic parish so her kids could attend school there. She was curtly told by the secretary (those formidable gatekeepers of all things parish and sacrament-related) that they only did registrations on such and such a day and time and that she would have to come back then. Instead, she took them to the public school down the street and was welcomed in to sign them up. And that was that.

The locked church is metaphorical also for the ‘locking out of the wedding feast,’ the despair one can feel when the one place of refuge and solace is not open to them. How many, I wonder, have been saved by finding an open, unlocked church and, simultaneously, grace? Similarly, how many unbelievers were set on a new path just from a happenstance stumbling upon an open church? Even if it’s not masses of conversions, finding it made a difference to that one. Had they found it locked, the course of their life may have looked very different and found perdition, rather than the gates of Eternal life.

A Too-Planned Life

Life in the COVID era has been surreal. Masks are a pocket accessory as much as a cellphone or car keys. Assuming conversations about whether one has gotten the vaccine or not yet has become commonplace in everyday conversations, the way someone may talk about getting a UTI or being on birth control as if it were normal. Then there's that moment when you don't know what to do when you would normally shake someone's hand. Like I said, kind of surreal. "Normal" life seems like a dream ago.

One interesting aspect of the pandemic-age has been in housing. In some aspects, there has been a predictable rise in people fleeing major urban areas (70,000+ exodus from New York City alone costing the city billions in tax renevue) as many employers have gone to remote work. Other people more prone to prepping long for land and neighbors miles away.

In another sense, though, there has been the curious phenomenon of COVID creating a surge in demand for 'tiny homes'. Some on wheels, where you might have a Murphy bed or a composting toilet. Nano apartments less than 260 sq ft in Hong Kong which sell for around $650,000USD have also been on the rise. 

For our part, I have really appreciated having a little more space in our single family home--some extra rooms to escape to (no Millennial 'open concept' floor plan here in our 1950's split level), and without the need to constantly be cleaning and tidying up. 

Affordability may be part of it (though tiny houses are arguably a poor investment in terms of resale value and are more of a depreciating asset). But I think there's more to it.

Whether or not you ascribe to the idea of a global NWO, there seems to be an ideal of a more or less 'planned society' in the works. In Render To Caesar, I wrote, 

"Have you ever seen an architectural rendering? You know, one of those two dimensional stylized representations of a future reality that doesn't exist but SHOULD because it would be so awesome and would solve all of planet Earth's problems? Like a 200 story high rise that is covered with vegetable gardens, or a mixed-use space where young urbanites can live and work and play and shop in a walkable paradise? It doesn't exist yet, but 'build it and they will come.' 

I have an admission: I hate renderings. Why? I don't know. I just like life in the real world. I have a low bs threshold, and real life has a way of not always fitting into neat prescribed models. I remember watching Jurassic Park as a kid when it first came out and thinking, "this is a HORRIBLE idea!" And it was, in the end, as all the dinosaurs escaped or something and turned on people. Maybe it's my acute awareness of the Fall, not only the rebellion in my own life, but in the world in which we live, that is wary of such social utopias."

You know one thing that messes up best-laid plans (in the best possible way) and a perfectly manicured life where everything gets put away in its place, beds are flawlessly made, and everything serves a purpose and is kept only if it 'sparks joy'? 

Kids.

It's apparent that population-control advocates like Bill Gates see humans and future generations in terms of environmental liabilities rather than human worth and capital. In Children of Men, I wrote:

"We seem to almost be living in a science fiction novel today. 59 million lives have been lost to abortion since Roe vs Wade in 1973, and 1.5 billion worldwide since 1980. We manufacture human life in test tubes and freeze or destroy embryos, bank sperm, take a morning after pill to terminate a pregnancy after contraception fails. Governments enact policies to limit children to 1 per household and force sterilization and abortions when citizens don't comply, while black market surrogacy is thriving. Human life is commodified and exploited by merciless systems of production, and traditional nuclear families are in the minority. Meanwhile, Europe faces a population disaster due to plummeting birth rates, the economic implications of which are starting to be realized.

In short, we have taken human life for granted, and there will be a price to be paid.

A quote from the film that stayed with me was when Kee's midwife reflects on the beginning of the infertility crisis in 2009, when people stopped getting pregnant and giving birth. "As the sound of the playgrounds faded," she said, "the despair set in. Very odd what happens in a world without children's voices."

Admittedly, I do watch a lot of tiny house videos and things on YouTube, because I like learning about construction. Almost without exception, those enamored with the idea are single women or young couples sans children; additionally without exception, they have pets which they treat as children. 

I saw this meme once on social media. It was brutally jarring and uncomfortable, but I think it speaks a savage truth about how future generations are holding up and actualizing their ideals of a planned life:

I appreciate simplicity. I appreciate, to a degree, a minimalism in owning things and what we bring into our home (that often alludes me, despite my best efforts). What I appreciate most, though, is what most upends all of that: my children. And not just my children, in the possessive sense, but the children we have brought into the world (or, rather, that God has brought into the world using us as the co-operators in that plan) for the world's benefit. Not just "going forth and multiplying," as the Lord commanded (yes, commanded) us to do. But forming them, sacrificing for them, so that they can actualize the kind of world we as Christians see as the ideal. Which is completely at odds with the focus depicted in the graphic above.

Maybe the thing about COVID and all it brings with it is the unsettling sense of uncertainty and upending--when the pendulum swings, and in a vaccuum of faithlessness, and where the vaccine is the new secular Eucharist, people want more control, not less--from the top (the "global elites") on down to the couple that's okay with doing number 2s in a sawdust bucket toilet and owning two sets of dining utensils and living in 150 square feet--as long as children--the enemy of a planned future--don't come along and mess it up. Or if they do, that they factor in seamlessly to the well-manicured 'plan for life' they have laid out for themselves.  

It's one thing to have to live in a shoebox-type living situation by necessity in parts of the world like Hong Kong or Japan, or the slums of Calcutta. Millions of people do. But here in the West, the vast majority of us have the luxury of choice and space. The tiny house phenomenon may be a fad but it's a curious one and I think tells us about what those attracted to it prioritize. There is a happy medium between McMansions and cottages-on-wheels. It's where we find ourselves as a family, and happily so. We have room in our home and space in our hearts for children, for guests, for mess, for the (thankful) luxury of not having to be constantly cleaning and tidying and putting things away. 

I'm not sure what the future generations will look like in the "12...6...2...dog" projection, but it doesn't inspire confidence in a future that seems very much the opposite of 'sustainable.' In a too-planned life, there's no extra room in the inn, and not just in terms of square footage. We need room in our heart and lives for uncertainty (which necessitates faith); mortality (which inspires fear of the Lord); charity (which inspires virtue); and love and commitment (in marriage, which begets children). Or, as the wisdom of Scripture attests, “Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; but increase comes by the strength of an ox.” (Prov 14:4)