The Lot We Have Been Given

Many times in my life, even before Francis, I have bemoaned my being born in the second half of the Twentieth Century.

A very conservative guy born in a very conservative family, I always felt a bit of a “fish out of the water” in the world I saw around me. It actually began as I was a little child, and the adolescents around me had long (often dirty) hair, wore those horrible blue jeans, and swore like you wouldn’t believe; none of which happened in my well-ordered, rigid, socially very conservative family. Basically, I have felt an outsider, and one born in the wrong age, since the age of four or five. I was terrified of growing up to become one of those long-haired cretins. Happily, it never happened.

When I became an adult, things got worse. The sexual mores of the age were – whilst much more rigid than what I saw afterwards – very different from the traditional Country I had learned to love through intensive reading and the exortatiosn of my grandmas and grand aunts, and which corresponded to my deepest longing. I saw around me not only the sinfulness (that, I assure, I always had myself), but an attitude towards it that I found shocking. The world had found its own morality and was very happy with it. I confusedly rebelled to it, but literally did not know where to look as the Church clearly was infected with the same disease and all those example of the past were gone. I longed for the world my grandmas and grand aunts so clearly represented and in which, it was clear, they had felt so comfortable their entire life.

Now things are, if not at their most painful (if you really want to know pain, you need to be twenty), certainly at their worst. They are, in fact, almost apocalyptycally bad. And once again, I find myself wishing that I were born in a different age.

But then I reflect that I was born exactly at the hour and minute God wanted me to be born. I reflect that all my pains and challenges, God knew before all eternity. I reflect that we are not given to choose the lot that is given to us. We live in the Age of Insanity; when men think they are women, and he who objects is the one with the “phobias”.

God made us live in the Age of Insanity so that we can do our part and collaborate with His Grace, fighting the insanity He has allowed to happen. From abortion to euthanasia and from sodomy to Francis, he has put us here perfectly knowing all of this, and in order for us to give our testimony against it.

Nor were past ages a bad of roses. When would I have wanted to be born, exactly? Shall we say, 1890? That would very possibly have meant a trench in the Alps. 1910 perhaps? Ah, that would have meant, quite likely, a barrack in Somalia, my own Country torn by civil wars, and effing Commies wherever I turn. 1930 then? Fine, you get to grow up with an unprecedented threat to humanity, and a Communist nightmare taking over more than half Europe. What about 1950? Far too late. Actually, this is the generation that started the whole mess.

Granted, a young man in a trench in the Alps can see a senseless massacre around him, but his world will still be in order: Truth and Pope steady on his side, and a system of values allowing him to die in comfort. But many have not died. They have been maimed, and coming back as cripples have seen the girls of their dream marrying someone else, who had all his limbs in place, whilst a possibly very long life in poverty awaited them, a life of scars both physical and mental.

I really think we don’t count our blessings often enough.

I am here now, approaching old-ish age. I can sit comfortably at my computer, for now free of religious persecution, and fight for what I believe with a keyboard; in the warmth and comfort of my home; surrounded by unprecedented wealth in the Country and Continent, and not in any need myself; able to afford the luxury to be in pain because of Francis’ antics, rather than because of the grenade exploded 30 feet from my foxhole, or the American bomber flattening out my barracks; and, most of all, with the Internet giving me both a voice and a set of ears inconceivable in every age past.

This is the lot we were given. An Evil Clown as Pope is an unprecedented challenge; but so were the Summer of Love, the Cold War, Hiroshima, the First World War, the French Revolution, the Thirty Years War, the damn Ottomans,  Luther and his ilk, the Western Schism, the Plague of 1348, the Great Schism, the damn Muslim hordes, the damn Barbarians hordes, the Great Heresies of the IV Century, and who knows how much I forget now….

I reflect on all this, and I do not complain too much. God knows what he does, and I must say my lot was very painful at times, and I will carry the scars for life; but all in all, it was a pain born of comfort, and a full belly, it was the pain of rich societies. Yes, we can play spiritual and say it would be better to suffer hunger an entire lifetime and know that the Pope is staunchly Catholic, but I am not entirely sure we would really switch places given the possibility.

This is the lot we were given. We were given it for a reason.It has good and bad like every other age before an dafter us, and it has unique challenges like many other ages before (and after) us.

Think of it next time Francis sounds like he is on drugs.








Posted on March 19, 2019, in Traditional Catholicism. Bookmark the permalink. 20 Comments.

  1. Good meditation Mundabor. We know no other time, so let us make the most of the time we live in and the time we have yet to live.
    To some extent I like it that Pope Francis emerged—possibly from the depths of hell–to show us clearly what the Modernist fruits of Vatican II look like and help us make the case that we must return to Catholic Tradition for the True Faith.

  2. I see weak signals of persecution, violent persecution.I am afraid it will explode in the next years, during our last life. Or do you think it will be a very slow and long process leading to violent persecution?

  3. I came back to the Catholic Church in March 2017, after 40 years away, some of those years following Buddhism. I recall a story about the Dalai Lama and his encounter with some rather spoiled rich Western Buddhists. The Western Buddhists complained to the Dalai Lama, “We live in such degenerate times!” The Dalai Lama glared at them and retorted, “Every time is a degenerate time.” What he was saying is: there was no time in this world when everything was perfect. Something we Catholics need to keep in mind. I imagine that those who were in the trenches in WWI and the people who suffered in the fire-bombings of Dresden and Tokyo were certain that it was the end of the world.
    We can be so self-centered, thinking OUR time is the worst time. But everyone’s life has a purpose assigned to it by God. Either you align yourself with His will, in which case, things will turn out OK for you. Or you go against His will and things will not be OK. How do you find out what He wants you to do? You pray everyday, fervently, until your teeth fall out.

    • Good reflection. I suggest you immerse yourself deeply in Catholic writings. Whatever sensible things that man might have said, is sense you can find in Catholicism.

    • In the past 2 years, I have been reading Catholic books (mostly pre-Vatican II): Imitation of Christ, Sermons of Fr. Weninger, Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila, Introduction to the Devout Life by St. Francis de Sales, plus daily readings from Dom Prosper Gueranger’s Liturgical Year and more.

  4. Thanks. I needed that.

  5. Little clues you’ve left through the years lead me to believe you’re about five years my junior. My path has been quite different. Early in my life I had experienced the beauty and predictability of family life lived in the bosom of the Church. Mom and Dad (working class ethnic American) taking their brood to Sunday Mass (in Latin) dressed in our finest. Romanesque architecture parish—totally beautiful Italianate in its embellishments. Solid sermons. High culture baroque music played post-communion, etc. Observance of high feasts and Ember Days and Forty Hours Devotion. Then the asteroid hit. I was a young teenager when the New Mass was introduced. Our parishes bled priests and nuns. Many remaining were subversives and the priests themselves were “longhairs”! Everything was degraded. Hootenanny Masses. Couple that with the sexual revolution and I was all in. Dissolute life for over a decade but still dabbling in Catholicism. Finally married but really a very bad Catholic going through the motions during the JPII years. Deep down I knew something was amiss. With the ascendancy of Benedict I was literally riveted by what he preached and I awakened from a soul destroying slumber. For Benedict I am profoundly, ever grateful but I now see how the contagion of Modernism has infected the Church with Francis the purulent carbuncle. As the Church fell, so has society. I have lived through remarkable times. I witness the existential detritus all around.

  6. Thank you for a thoughtful post. The ongoing sense that one does not quite fit in is perhaps God’s way of reminding us that we were born for eternal life with Him.

  7. Personally, I think I would have been relatively happier in the XII Century. Poorer and colder, no doubt, but more content and in better communion with my fellow man.

  8. I liked that, very profound. It reminds me of a quote from the Lord of the Rings.
    “I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
    “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
    ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

  9. I love this narrative. I know you and I were crib-mates. I remember those 60’s days, when I was one of the blue-jean wearing crowd, still am, truth be told. I’m sure that’s when things really starting deteriorating but when I see those old photos I know those are my people, my peers, and I feel nothing but affection.
    I miss childhood like it was heaven, because I miss innocence and freedom from anxiety and fear. I remember blue skies and puffy white clouds and all manner of sweet things. People have the audacity to say things weren’t better but they were of course. Poor children and young people today. What they see is heartbreaking and much of it comes from parents who are no more interested or capable of being responsible parents than a caterpillar. And then this rotten culture.
    God put us here and we need to bloom where we are planted. Thankfully He helps us.

  10. Well written and heartfelt…..two characteristics of this blog of yours. Thank you for bringing sanity to my world.

  11. Congratulate M, Your parents were the best, wisest ones who had fulfilled Catholic’s duty that love is all about, to do whatever necessary keeping children in the right path to heaven. You’re blessed. Wishing that I could have parents like yours. Thanks for sharing life experiences.

    • My parents have done the bare minimum, and what they have done they have done more because automatic following of conventions than because of faith. Mind, they love me to bits and I love them to bits. But I see them as the parents God gave me, they do not see the reciprocal.
      In my charity, pray for my parents, that God may spare them from the worst. As I written so many times on this blog, being loving parents is not nearly enough to avoid hell.

    • Mr. M, I know how that feels. My whole birth family became fallen away Catholics, except me. I’ll pray for yours.

    • Thanks Christina. I’ll do the same for you and yours. May the Lord have mercy on us all.

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