Meet The Kasperites

Please, Lord, let me die before I become a Kasperite.

From Father Ray Blake’s blog.

I don’t know if this is the type of situation Pope Francis was trying to deal with in his recent telephone call, but this kind of situation is not unusual – this is a made up.
Mary has been living Sam for 14 years, he is divorced, they have three children. Mary has been assiduous in the formation of her children in the faith, she tells her priest that she desperately wants to receive Holy Communion. the priest reminds her what Jesus says about someone married to a divorcee is committing adultery.
Mary says she accepts Jesus’ teaching and that Sam, despite only being a nominal Christian, because of his love for her respects her and has agreed to try and live as brother and sister.
Mary despite her love for Sam is well aware of the sinfulness of her situation and has even considered leaving Sam but that would deprive their children of a father, but she too loves him. They do live as brother and sister most of the time but every so often Sam and Mary fall, often it is Sam’s fault but not always.
May Mary go the Holy Communion, possibly in a Church where she is completely unknown, even occasionally?
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Answer (no, it will not be short, or pleasant).

The two are clearly concubines. There can be no doubt about this. This is rock-hard reality no kind of emotionalism or rationalisation can change. Concubines live in scandal, and Christianity has always taught – before the “age of mercy” – that those who live in scandal are in principle in mortal sin, and are in principle denied communion. Today we do not know what scandal is anymore, therefore this part is simply overlooked.

Yes, the prostitute was allowed to get communion after confession perhaps once a year, but you get the drift here: she was allowed, once a year and after confession, to try to make the decision to stop being a prostitute. Her lifestyle was not endorsed. Everyone knew that. No Cardinal was saying “we must find ways to open communion to prostitutes, because there are so many of those around”. The Prostitutes were, as far as I know, allowed to get to communion as the last ones, separated from the others; so that no one had to be afraid his neighbour on the altar rail was a prostitute faking Catholic respectability.

The fictitious couple live, then, in scandal, in a relationship the Church can only see as adulterous. If we have our salvation dear, the discussion does not need to go beyond this point. Fictional Mary must, in short, decide between hell and her concubine, and she must also tell the children some hard truths of life. Being “pastoral” is neither here nor there. Souls are at stake. The only pastor here is the one that says the truth whole.

Concubinage is concubinage. Mortal sin is mortal sin. That’s it. Facts are facts. Fictional Mary is not a politician, and Jesus is not a voter. She won’t fool Him, nor will anyone of us, full stop.
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But fictional Mary says she is “assiduous”, & Co. I wonder how a public concubine can be so “assiduous” in the formation of the children. Being a concubine doesn’t really square with that, methinks. If this fictional character, therefore, teaches her children properly, they will discover a huge gap between what mother teaches and how she lives. I bet my fictional pint, though, that her “faith” is rather of the “don’t kick the cat and help the polar bear cub” type. A common event nowadays. Christianity by hearsay.
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But you see, she “desperately wants to receive communion”. Of course she wants. Everyone “desperately” wants to have their cake and eat it. Mary is fictional, but take it from me: she wants societal approval. Validation. Catholic respectability. That’s what she wants. It’s the human nature.

The problem is, it doesn’t work that way. Fictional Mary knows it very well, too. Hell is also, I am informed, a tad worse than one’s “desperate” needs. Perhaps the needs should be adjusted, and a serious reflection will then, perhaps, begin.
Life is made of priorities. The way we live tell the tale of where the priorities are. As the dry Italian says, le chiacchiere stanno a zero.
Facts are hard (the concubinage), feelings are pliable (the “desperate” desire). It’s a dangerous game to play, because reality always catches up with fantasies.
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The fictional priest tells our fictional woman an obvious piece of obvious truth, and here things get very funny.
Fictional Mary fictionally “accepts” Jesus’ teaching, but…. but…
But she still wants to have her cake and eat it, you see. All of it. Sin, scandal, concubinage, respectability, and communion. The whole lot. Because hey, she “accepts”; though she doesn’t act…
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Let us continue the reading of this fictional, but apparently not uncommon situation. Her fictional husband, who really doesn’t care a straw, has – after endless nagging, no doubt – consented that the two officially live “like brother and sister”; something his wife must be able to tell her Catholic friends.
Hubby must have a sister he screws regularly, though, because this is how he at least clearly understands this “brother and sister” thingy. He therefore agrees with his sister – sorry: wife – that they will pretend to be such “most of the time”, therefore renouncing to spend most of the time having sex like rabbits; which is, as we all know, what all couples of 14 years’ marriage do. But hey, he does “fall” every now and then (now seriously: how often is the average of a 14 years old marriage? Please don’t answer…) and when he wants to watch Sky Sports, well, then it might be “sister” who “falls”. But hey, “sister” will say in the church they live “like brother and sister”, which to her makes all pretty fine or at least fine enough for communion; apart, of course, from the fact that they don’t.
Doesn’t matter. Facts don’t count. Feeling is everything. Woman has decided she lives with her “brother”. That’s it, then.

Now, there is one problem. She has fictionally considered leaving her husband; but there are the fictional children, you see…

A remarkable woman, this one. Millions of her countrywomen would not hesitate to leave their husband because he screws a colleague, or the secretary; and they in fact do, every day; and the children are told, more or less brutally, how bad papa is, and who cares how much their lives are wrecked. But it doesn’t matter: mama will have her revenge, and society – even, I am afraid, many Catholic churchgoers of the more progressive sort – will be full of understanding and solidarity, because to live with a cheating husband really, really can’t be demanded of any modern woman, can it now?

But to live separated and tell the children their father – who is still the loving and caring father he always was – will sleep in a cheap studio under a different roof just a couple of hundred metres away so that no scandal is given and chastity is preserved, goes already too far.

Can’t be done. Very sorry. No can do.

The costs. The children. The locusts. And yes, the woman even openly says: we do have sex, and when it’s not him (most often it’s him, naturally…) it’s me; but come on, sisters and brothers do that too, occasionally? Don’t they? Really? Are you sure? (Cough…) oh well…. who are we to judge?
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So, what do we have in this fictional couple?

Do they give scandal? Yep, clear as 2+2. They live under the same roof, you see, like husband and wife up to the marital bed. It doesn’t get clearer than that. And then the sin is, obviously, very public. That some people may not get that scandal of this sort causes one to live in mortal sin without any need to examine the sexual habit of the couple in question and their “fall frequency” is, to me, the shock of the day. Scandal is the new normality. Move on, Christ. You are too uncharitable.

But do they have sex? Check.

Yes, they even have sex. Admitted by her. Initiated by both. But they call it being “brother and sister”. What are these, Jesuits?

But are they really, ohh, sincere? Oh, certainly! As sincere as can be one who does not care a straw about Christianity, and one who can tell you she lives with her brother, but screws him, with a straight face. The new Catholic world is made in the image and resemblance of Jorge Bergoglio.

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Dear fictional Mary, it pains me to tell you so, but in charity, and since I was asked, I am bound to tell you that you live in scandal, in an adulterous situation, and in mortal sin. Your scandal is a fact, is rock-hard reality, and a fact that cannot be emoted away. In the meantime, “brother” is just a bedroom door away, and you don’t hear him snoring. And, well, incest takes place regularly, we are told. 

I must tell you this, dear fictional Mary, because God will not be fooled, and any amount of mental gymnastics, womanly emoting or fictional family relationship existing only outside of sex time will only serve to send you to hell more rapidly, unless you repent.

Please, Mary, consider this: what other answer would any priest have given to you in: 1914, 1814, 1714, 1614, 1514, 1414, 1314…What? You got the point? Very well, I don’t need to continue, then.

Now, my dear fictional lady, you may say that a very real Cardinal, and a lot of other people, and probably even a Pope is of the opinion that look, we should not take these things too literally. If you repent between rides, you’ll be fine. Yippee-ya-yey! The scandal just doesn’t count. When your horny brother jumps on you, do you really, really, really want to do it? Because you see, you can be living in sin with your concubine, but if you really, really do not give complete consent, then it is not a mortal sin, don’t ya know?
I mean, you do live in scandal, but not really, because you are so aware of your sinfulness. You are not required to change anything in your life, because in the “age of mercy” we change the rules instead. No, wait, we do not change them: we merely make a mockery of them! So much more practical!

Let us have, then, the concubines who live in sin but are brother and sisters but have actually sex; the homosexual who live together in a “chaste” relationship but actually fall; the men with a harem who live with three women like “brother and sisters” but hey, that’s a lot of sisters; the man who loves his dog in such a chaste way, “most of the time”. Let us allow everyone to approach the Sacred Banquet. We are so inclusive.

Fret not, fictional Mary. We will soon allow you and your husband to have communion, but please take the car and drive a couple of neighbourhoods away, if it isn’t too much to ask. Keep pretending you screw your brother, if it works for you. Don’t allow anyone to “judge” you, and please, please call “uncharitable” everyone who is sorry to see you marching towards hell. Hey, you help the Polar Bear Cub. That’s what I call the product of an “assiduous Christian education”!

Make of all a parody. Devoid every rule of significance. You “desperately” want communion, and who can be against that? Jesus? Don’t make me laugh. You are living in scandal, but this does not exclude from communion anymore, at least not for long, at least not if you are “aware” whilst continuing to do just as you did before.

You see, there are many of us. Cardinal Kasper says what many of us think. We, the Kasperites, are now the overwhelming majority. Woe to the one who dares to put Truth before Mercy. Screw Truth, long live Mercy! Everyone who dares to oppose the new mantra of emotionalism at all costs, “mercy” no matter how big the lie, and having every other priority but avoiding hell will be insulted – like that chap with the Pius XII photo – as unmerciful, uncharitable, not in touch with the time, and a relic of the Inquisition.

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So be it, then. I will take all the insults. But I refuse, I refuse to bow to this unspeakable hypocrisy according to which we are all for Catholic teaching and against Kasper’s (and Francis’) novelties and sacrilege in theory, but when we are presented with the most ludicrous of concrete cases in practice we all cave in and suggest that a priest does exactly what Cardinal Kasper is moving toward: the complete hollowing of Christ’s rules against a fictional repentance requiring no real change in anyone’s life.
This is how entirely rotten Western Catholicism has become after 50 years of destruction. So rotten in fact, that the suggestion of ways to avoid following Christ’s rules is seen as pious, charitable, and merciful.
And again: like every process of rotting and decaying, this one has also been happening in stages. A German Cardinal, then Pope, issues instructions according to which in very particular circumstances, probably when there is really no sex, the couple might be allowed to approach communion elsewhere. A disgraceful attitude, because what begins as a discipline for extreme cases – the German Cardinal probably had the 92 years old man in mind, married to the 87 years old woman, who converted late to Catholicism, or such like – then becomes applicable to less and less extreme cases, until it becomes the norm, demanded from all, and with the requisites demolished as “uncharitable” one by one. The German Cardinal, then Pope, must blame himself, though. At his age, he should have known what happens when Truth is tampered with. Particularly in Germany, Tamper Central.
And so it can happen that when you say that in certain circumstances the parents could live like brother and sister, couples who have sex demand to be seen that way. They say very openly that they have sex, but who gives a … straw for facts nowadays?
Kasper is among us. Nay: Satan is among us. For many Christians, Christianity seems to have become Baal plus some “joy” rhetoric. It has become so bad, that a question that only sixty or seventy years ago would have caused, according to one’s sense of humour, bursts of laughter or an extremely scandalised reaction is now taken very seriously, with several attempts at explanation under which conditions openly living in sin with one’s concubine would justify receiving. Truly, it beggars belief.
100% Kasper tosh for the masses. The masses, grateful, swallow the tosh whole.

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I herewith pledge and promise that, to the best of my ability and as long as I blog, I will continue to write about Catholicism as, to the best of my knowledge, it was felt and practised before the Great Disgrace of V II and his latest and most poisonous fruit, Jorge Bergoglio.

And I ask the Lord to be merciful to me and to do me the great grace of striking me dead, one day before I start spreading new doctrines and novelties that would have horrified my grandmothers, and will gravely endanger my soul. 

It is infinitely better to get under a bus and to die on the spot but (hopefully) in the state of grace, than to become a Kasperite and die with Kasper’s chances of salvation. 

Mundabor