Daily Archives: July 27, 2014
Life Insurance Needed
The Unholy Father is soon to meet with another proddy pastor.
I suggest to Mr (Mister, Signor, Herr, Señor) Giovanni Traettino that he is well insured. Particularly so, if Francis should call him “brother bishop”.
I know, this is a thorny issue.
But I thought it should not remain unsaid.
Mundabor
Who Will Be Beatified Next?
I am informed the way is paved for the beatification of JP I.
I am almost relieved, because I was already worried Francis might, between a tango and a selfie, have forgotten the man.
One is reminded of the Asterix cartoons: “it is 2014 and all VII Popes have been at least beatified…
Wait…. All?….”
One wonders what will happen when (wishing Benedict a long life, and assuming he would be considered worthy of the honour) the list of “eligible” popes end. Who will be next? Bugnini perhaps? Tyrrell perhaps? Hey, he did a lot of lío, so Francis should like him much? Von Balthasar? What about Rahner? And if Hans Kueng euthanasises himself fast, could one not think of him? Yes, he wants to commit suicide, but remember: if one has good will and seeks the Lord, who are we to judge?
I am so old that I remember when a beatified Pope was a seldom occurrence indeed. Now, an entire generation of Catholics will grow up believing if you are Pope, of course you are going to be beatified. At least if you have become Pope in the New Springtime, when empty churches and anti-Christian legislation elevate the spirit so much.
I bet my pint on Bugnini.
Küng is still very much alive, and may well bury Francis before he disposes of himself. But Bugnini or Rahner or Tyrrell, they do appear safe bets.
Mundabor
Stupid Worries
The emotional, feel-good society of the twilight of the Western world is obsessed with things that would have made our ancestors laugh. One of them is the absolute necessity to know that people who are executed avoid any suffering.
Expensive new ways are developed, from the electric chair to ever new chemicals. It shall never be said we don't do our best to treat murderers in the most considerate way, up to the end.
Our ancestors made a noose, looked for a very robust tree – or prepared a very robust scaffold – and let the condemned fall down until the rope comes to the end of its length, and breaks his neck. It must have worked most of the times, because when a body starts falling down at 9.8 meters per second the strain on the neck at the end of the fall is simply massive.
Still, at times it doesn't. Then the end follows rather fast, anyway. Which is a treatment no, say, convicted murderer has the right to deem too harsh.
But no. Common sense has no place anymore in our societies. In the last case, the convicted murderer needed, oh, almost, oh, two, oh, hours to die as the new cocktail of poison did not work as expected. Mind: the man was unconscious and did not suffer in the least, but headlines of “botched execution” are going around the world anyway. Someone must feel very good at being just stupid.
Did the Popes of the XVIII or XIX century worry about such problems? Not really.
A rope, a scaffold, a priest, and an executioner. A public too, so that everyone could see what happens to, say, murderers.
Blessed times of innocence and common sense, now sadly gone.
Mundabor
Never Waver
What would he have thought of the Pope remarks? Yes, exactly that…
My dear reader, the new season of madness that is coming upon us will see our faith attacked from all sides; from the media and from our friends, from the environment (at work, etc.) that will isolate us, to the worst treason of all, the one of the clergy suddenly “embracing” those things for which their grand-grandmothers would have slapped them in the face.
We must now expect many of the “how cool it is to be a conservative” camp to make a volte-face, and decide that yeah, the Church got that with homosexuality wrong these last two thousand years; hey, it happens in the best families; but look at how many people go to see the Pope as if it were the Cannon Man or the Bearded Woman! Hey, he must be doing something right! Can’t you…
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