Faith And Language, Part I
The recently posted article of Father Celatus on the “Remnant” is the occasion for a couple of reflections I would like to share with you.
The first thing you notice is the language chosen by this faithful man. Do not think for a moment every word was not carefully weighted.
Whilst we generally owe a filial respect to the Pope, it stands to reason that this applies insofar as the Pope respects Christ and His Church. However, it should come perfectly natural to every faithful Catholic to verbally attack a Pope who attacks Christ. It should be part and parcel of his sentire cum ecclesia that he insults a Pope who insults Her. Why? Because if you don't, it means that to you the defence of the Pope comes before the defence of Christ, so that the latter has limits imposed to it by something that is infinitely inferior, namely: the dignity of a heretical Pope.
Father Celatus insults the Pope; but is a single one of these insults not more than abundantly deserved? Obviously, they are all more than deserved.
Is, then, Father Celatus moved by a personal animosity against the Pope? Of course not. His problem is not with Francis' qua Jorge Bergoglio. His problem is with Francis qua blasphemous and heretical Pope, a wolf instead of a shepherd.
Is, finally, Father Celatus insulting the Papacy itself? You know the answer. It is clear that this good priest has a high respect for the sacredness of the office. It is, therefore, perfectly natural that the abuse of it should enrage him even more.
There will be, no doubt, many who read the good father and think his words wildly inappropriate and uncalled for. I wonder how healthy their faith is.
A strong, deep faith naturally leads one to keenly perceive any offence made to God. An offence made to God is then seen, and rightly so, as infinitely grave, because infinite is the Goodness of the One who is offended. It follows from this that no attack to the Pope can be seen as too harsh, when the One Whom the Pope has attacked is so infinitely bigger than the Pope himself. The only boundary to this must, surely, only consist in what the Church commands under pain of mortal sin: the physical inviolability of the Pope himself, obviously as long as he is Pope. I have no doubt the Evil Clown would, once deprived of his office, not only deserve to be kicked in the ass all the way to Termini station, but also burned at the stake after that; then as our Christian forefathers very well knew, the supreme offence should be met with the supreme punishment.
Alas, we live in times of little faith. If faith is weak, substitute values easily overcome it. Life is deified, and no one can conceive capital punishment, much less the burning at the stake of a heretic. Niceness is deified, and any expression of sharp, harsh criticism is condemned for the mere fact of being unkind. The office of the Pope is deified, and Papolatry becomes widespread. The person of Francis is deified, and he can never be called a lewd minion of Satan, no matter how open his siding with the devil is.
If you have faith, your language will end up reflecting it; because if you have faith you will see Francis' open attacks to truth as direct insults to Christ, slaps to His Holy Face, a new Scourging going on by the hand of the very Pope.
How anyone can have any respect whatsoever for this evil clown is beyond me; or better said, it can only be understood with a faith weak enough that the scale of the offence to Christ is very dimly perceived, so that inferior goods – “niceness”, “polite discourse”, “the respect due to the Holy Father” – appear to him to have precedence.
If someone slapped your mother on the street, you would not engage the aggressor in polite conversation. You would – literally – beat the shit out of him.
And when Our Lord is slapped in the face, will you limit yourself to polite disagreement?