Martyrs spilled their blood for Truth come down from Heaven. For the Synodalist, there is no truth, only transactional process.
Who would die for that?
For the Synodalist, truth is an antediluvian embarrassment—and so are martyrs.
To the chagrin of faithful Catholics, the Synodal Church marches forward. Any religion worth its salt cringes at the sandbox therapeutics of this comedy parading as Catholicism.
Our one consolation is that its only appeal lay in the tony salons of the outré theological gentry. They pride themselves as standing aloof from the smelly Catholic hoi polloi who still clutch their rosaries and prayer books, standing on confessional lines in heartfelt contrition. Synodalists and their fellow travelers such as America, The National Catholic Reporter, and the elite Catholic universities have been birthing a New Christianity, one not shackled to a spent millennial past. These Bright Young Things (forgive me, Mr. Waugh) are no longer victims to a literal Gospel which takes God at His word. Part of their sparkle is a proud new revision of the Gospel page, unimpeded by the rude objectivity of the past.
Salt of the earth Catholics find these exercises bewildering, to say nothing of deeply offensive. But, of course, they are the Voiceless in an apparent time of breathless games of Synodal Listening. George Orwell is instructive here, when, in Animal Farm, he memorably writes, “all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.” The snooty insouciance of the Synodalist Elites find the common Catholic rather amusing—each one blinded by something called Supernatural Faith to which they pathetically cling like starving prisoners clutching their crusts of bread.
Still, because the Synodalist apparatchiks enjoy the official approbation of the hierarchical Church, many an unsuspecting Catholic will be unsettled. Add to this the current reigning fog of muted doctrinal clarity and carefully designed moral ambiguity and we see how Synodality compounds the unsteady gait of many a faithful Catholic.
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