This Critical Moment

I have been asked by several people now, Protestants and sedevacantists alike, how it is that I can remain so loyal to a Church that is run by corrupt and malicious men, by hirelings and wolves, who devour the flock as they pursue their own good instead of the good of all the Holy Church. It is certainly difficult living in such a time. I know as well as any that we can expect little support from our pastors as we fight for truth in the world, or that sending letters to one’s bishop with one’s concerns typically yields either no response or an occasional acknowledgement of receipt. It is very difficult to have any sort of dialogue with those in positions of authority, for any number of reasons, whether in the Church or out of it. It may be the case that the sheep hear the voice of the shepherd, but it is not the case that the shepherds hear the voice of the sheep.

As a result, we experience persecution, if I may call it that, in a variety of forms: restrictions on the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Mass, separation from the Sacraments during a “plague,” or the banning of Communion on the tongue. Add to this the confusion caused by the lack of clarity on the part of clerics, the scandal caused by the lack of chastity among the same, or the heresy flowing freely from Germany, the Jesuits, and so forth. Need I recall the Pachamama? I could go on at great length.

Needless to say, the Church on earth is not looking very much like the spotless Bride of Christ. This may be one of those cases in which a sheep finds himself looking over the fence into the Protestant, Orthodox, or sedevacantist field and sees what appears to be greener grass. To some, the barren wilderness of “nonery” may even look attractive. We are certainly living in the midst of a crisis, and we have been for some time.

But let it be known that a moment of crisis is a critical moment. It is a moment when we are given the opportunity to make a choice, to ask ourselves why we are Catholic? Why am I in this seemingly brown and decaying field when my neighbors seem to be munching on yummy green grass? Am I here because I believe the pope to be the pythonic oracle and I must cling to his every word? Am I here because I was raised Catholic and have been too hesitant to make my own decision? Am I here because it is where I feel welcome and have found a safe space? Or am I here because I have been enraptured by the Beauty of Christ?

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