And it came to pass it turned out the Texas shooters was not a church member, much less involved in the congregation he massacred.
I wonder why we should not apply to this the same hysteria and illiberal hate the so-called Liberals apply to everything they don’t like.
Taking example from their unholy crusade against everything Confederate, I now suggest that Christians begin to:
- Declare Atheists Godless Supremacists
- Demand that all monuments to known atheists be removed
- Demand that school classes teach children about Godless Supremacism and its violent nature
- Demand that every expression of atheism on social media be declared hate.
- Create the Christian Lives Matter Movement. Make of it a very vocal, bullying, violent organ agit-prop tool.
- Cry “Discrimination!!” at every turn.
- Organise marches against Godless Supremacists. Violence justified by the desire to fight hate.
- Demand that all churches of whatever denomination allow and encourage the carrying of arms in church, in order to react to attacks from Godless Supremacists.
Nothing strange, really.
I am merely taking one episode and making it a tool in my crusade, attacking head on everything I hate , lumping all atheists together with an extremely broad brush.
Which is what they do all day.
The United Kingdom is a heathenish, Christless Country. People's concerns are largely material. When they call themselves “spiritual”, they usually mean how beautiful and profound they feel they are. There are exceptions, but what I have described is the norm.
This heathenish thinking extends to the time before death. Every now and then you read of “brave” people who, once told they are going to prematurely kick the bucket, decide to “do something”. Normally, this something is linked with “fun” (the Paris alcohol binge), or with something “they wanted to do” (the exotic travel) or with someone “they wanted to meet” (a spiritual giant of our time like, say, an actor).
It is as if their spiritual (and otherwise) dumbness would want to cling to them until death, not even the announcement of the end to come being enough for a much-needed realignment of priorities. It is, in fact, fair to say that in an age in which fun and self-centredness are a religion, people who focus on those on their last stretch are considered examples worthy of following, as if they were the pious faithful of our time. A great waste of immortal souls, sadly, as the announcement of his impending demise is the last massive opportunity for, say, an atheist to send his brains into overdrive and (with God's grace) start working on his salvation until there's time.
Nor is there any warning, anywhere, of the judgment to come. People who die positively unable to think – and to publicly say they do – about their judgment are called “courageous”, when all generations before ours would have called them foolish. But hey, they launched a hashtag that made an awful lot of people of every conceivable degree of stupidity feel good with themselves. Isn't it wonderful?
And by the way: is it surprising? Nowadays even the Pope tries to make you march to your death without thinking of judgment; unless he suggest that you become a member of the Communist Party perhaps, because Jesus was kinda lika sorta Lenin, no?
The way we die is a very good indication of the rest of our – infinitely long – existence.
In a heathenish time, you see these indications all the time, whilst the press applauds.
I was a lapsed Catholic. Moved by the obvious disinterest which priests around me showed in Catholic values and Mass attendance, badly catechised, and surrounded by a more and more secular world, I started to lose the habit of thinking with the Church that had been rudimentally transmitted to me as a child. Slowly, other things went out of the window, due to the influence of the secular values when one stops seeking the nourishment only the Sacraments can give. I preferred to consider abortion a terrible evil I would not have the courage to avoid, and preferred to leave it at that. I refused, or rather neglected, to think rationally about the necessary consequences of being a Catholic. I was the socially conservative version of the Cafeteria Catholic. I was disgusted by fags; but mainly only out of common decency, rather than of deeply felt religious values.
In all this, never one day, never one minute did I lose the faith in God. Feeling abandoned by the platitudes of the V II Church and not yet acquainted with Traditionalism (a movement I really discovered only in 2005, thanks to the Internet), I spent countless hours with “do it yourself” exercises, with up to seven different Bibles on my table, trying to understand and deepen the faith about which I felt so strongly, if confusedly, and which made me despise the secular priests of questionable virility I saw around me and on TV, and the shallow rhetoric of poverty and social justice that had nothing supernatural in it.
Faith is the biggest grace I ever received, and never losing faith for one second is, in itself, a grace in the grace. I feel as if a good God would patiently wait, through my Years Of Stupidity, until I finally found the fountain of pure water, Catholicism as it was always intended and had never been taught to me. Coherent, logical, manly, as beautiful and as hard as a diamond.
I confess that I suffer of “excessive doctrinal security”. I could, if it depended on me, depose Francis, defrock him, and send him to die at the stake without flinching; and I would be ready and proud to be called at my own judgment there, on the spot, whilst the Argentinian’s corpse is still burning, and the smoke still rising high in the Roman sky.
Faith is a grace, that I have obviously not deserved. But I think it my duty to make use of it, and help others along the way.
And I want you to see it, this faith. I want you to feel it, I want it to jump on you unexpectedly, like a lion. You may disagree with me, hate me, mock me. But my faith, you will not be able to deny or even ignore.
It is a grace. Fully undeserved. Given to a wretched sinner, concerned about his own salvation more than it’s comfortable to him. Given to him, I think, so that he may use it to help others.
However, even if I had not been graced with a strong faith, and had gone through periods of doubt – something up to now always spared to me, but common to even many saints in form of perceived distance of God from them, or of punishing spiritual aridity – never would I dare to present my doubts, my trembling and wobbling faith, as something desirable, or that makes me more “complete” than the one who never had such doubts.
“Never doubted God? You’re missing something, my boy’!”
Who would be such an idiot as to express himself in that way? Someone without faith, of course. Someone who cannot avoid thinking in totally secular terms, and likes it, and wants you to think in the same way. Someone who thinks so much in terms of moral relativism and pensiero debole, that he boasts of his own lack of faith.
Someone, in short, like this one.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would not advertise his atheism around. He would be, even if of low intelligence, certainly smarter than that.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would have – as all atheists do – his own bespoke “morality”, made of earthly, more or less childish things like social justice, environment, vapid “niceness”, and the like. Therefore, what this Atheist Pope would do is to promote his worldly, atheist values behind a thin varnish of pseudo-religious talking. Jesus would become an illegal immigrant, we would have to kneel in front of the poor, the environment would become a vital issue, not being a SJW would become a sin. Everything in Christianity would be perverted to serve this wordly agenda.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would continuously downplay the supernatural, and do what he can to demolish the faith of the sheep entrusted to him. He would say that the Blessed Virgin might have felt angry at the foot of the Cross. He would hint that there might have been nothing miraculous in the multiplication of fishes and breads, and make of it a “miracle” of wealth redistribution. He would cintinuously promote a God Of Environmental Socialism. He would attack even the basis of Christianity. Eternal condemnation would suddenly not be in the logic of the Gospel. God would give you a slap in the face at most. God's Justice would be totally eclipsed or confined to Mafiosi, for all others Mercy would be unlimited, unconditional, unavoidable.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would – like many atheists nowadays – hate Catholic morality, and love the self-centred “me, me, me”, self-made religion of niceness in which no one can judge anyone, and woe to you if you dare to criticise, because criticising is bad and if you do, you show what cruel, godless, merciless, egotist, self-centred, enemy of the poor, whitened sepulchre, pelagian, coprophagist (continue here for another twenty minutes) you are. Adultery would be the new morality, and Catholic morality the new evil. Adulterers would be “good” when they live in public adultery, and they would even be told that not having sex may harm their children. Confession and Communion would be raped and prostituted to this new world religion. He who opposed all this would be mercilessly slandered, because… who is he to judge. He would look for the approval or perverts. He would bask in their approval of him. The enemies of the Church would be his chosen friends.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would do what every atheist already does in a smaller scale: deify himself. However, being the Pope he would do so on a vast bigger scale, soaking in the flattery of countless cowardly clergymen, feminists, perverts, liberals, atheists of all sorts; that is: of the people he likes. Catholics' criticism would peeve him, of course. He would insult them all the time in retaliation.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would try to undermine Catholic identity in any way he can. He would talk a lot about ecumenism. He would participate in Jewish ceremonies. He would approve any sort of “good intentioned” heathenism. He would invite Muslims to hold on to their Korans. He would, of course, celebrate an Heresiarch like Luther, and ask the Proddies for forgiveness for a bad Church trying to preserve truth and orthodoxy against madness and error.
If an Atheist became Pope, he would not care of the damage he inflicts on the Papacy he hates. He would not even care about how Catholics – whom he hates – will remember him after he has gone, or how reviled he will be in centuries to come. Being Atheist, he would be both persuaded that when he dies nothing of him will remain, and satisfied that atheists will like him – as far as Popes go – in every century to come. Certainly, he would try to subvert the Church as much as he can, for as long as he can after he has gone. But in the end, he would not be concerned of what happened when nothing of him has remained. He would,mor course, have no fear whatever of eternal punishment.
And the moral of this little story is?….
An Atheist has become Pope.
An Atheist comes back to his car after a day of hard work. He goes out of the train station and confidently walks towards his vehicle. Instead of which, he founds an empty space.
You would think the Atheist would simply consider that the molecules composing the car have casually rearranged themselves, in a random manner, and the car has returned into nothingness out of a fully uncaused, spontaneously happening re-arrangement of matter exactly in the same way as the universe (of this the Atheist is fully persuaded) formed itself in a casual, random arrangement.
Interestingly, the Atheist is (cough…) highly unlikely to think in that way. He is all “random arrangement of matter that was already there somehow” when you talk to him about how the World was created, but he completely abandons his theories when he lives his daily life.
Upon not finding the car, the Atheist will think that there must be a reason – a real reason, a cause that created the effect, not a “random rearrangement of matter” – for the car not to be where he left it. He will reason that with all probability, someone has caused the car to be removed; and that if something else had happened – say: a natural force, like a hurricane – then this force would logically not have applied selectively to his own car, but would have operated according to universally recognised laws, which for example state both that there should be devastation all around him, and that hurricanes have not changed their ways on that particular day.
The Atheist is, in this, thinking logically. He knows that if there is an effect there is a cause, and that the laws of physics are the same everywhere. He knows that cars do not vanish in thin air, because he knows that the forces that keep his car from vanishing in a random matter are at work all the time. He also knows, incidentally, that that very car did not casually appear on the planet one day out of nothing; firstly because he knows that nothing comes out of nothing, and secondly because he knows that only a proper cause (the production process) can cause the desired effect (the car).
The atheist knows that there is a cause for that empty space; he knows with absolute certainty that the car is there because someone – say: the police, the parking administrators, or a thief – took it away. He knows that he lives in a world of cause and effect, and of eternal, immutable, inescapable laws of physics. If no natural force or human action had caused the car to be removed the car would still be there, because the car could not create out of nothing the energy necessary to move, or an autonomous will to remove itself in the first place.
Not only this: the atheist would mock and ridicule you for seriously saying to him that perhaps the car just developed a will (which I would, if I could keep a straight face without bursting in uncontrollable laughter). If an entire universe simply happened without anyone wanting or causing it, simply at random, – with all its extremely complicated laws, and its unimaginable immensity – why would such an infinitely smaller and less complex thing, like a Volkswagen Golf, not simply happen to develop its own will, create its own petrol, and decide to get its kicks on Route 66?
The idea is so stupid, that the Atheist would reject it outright. He would not believe that a thinking man can be so moronic as to think in this way.
Which reflects, very accurately, my own thinking whenever I hear an Atheist producing himself in an explanation of why the world with its astonishing vastness and complexity, and the matter composing it in the first place, exist at all.
Pope Francis’ just released disgraceful encyclical has, among its extremely numerous vices (see an excerpt of them in my Francis Papers page above, just scroll to the bottom), the one of being strongly influenced by atheist thinking.
Worse (even) than this, Francis has already given more than a hint (actually, he has screamed from the rooftops, only not in encyclicals yet) that an atheist can be saved by following his conscience (see here and here).
The Bishop of Rome, unhappily reigning, wants you to believe and profess that atheism can be perfectly fine not only for salvation, but as a general way of thinking. Francis has no qualms whatsoever with people claiming to be “good without God”; he even asks them to send him “good thoughts”, or the like (alas, this time no link…).
This is today, in the Age of Sodomy.
But how was it before?
We only need to look back 65 years and we find a wonderful encyclical of the great Pope Pius XII, Anni Sacri. The encyclical is very pithy and can be read in its entirety in a short time, so I encourage you to do it. There are no great discussions about why the atheist is logically wrong (remember when Mr Smith bought a new watch?). The letter is entirely devoted to the necessity for the bishops to fight against the atheist mentality within the families and in the public sphere.
The Pastor Angelicus would not even dream of telling you that an atheist can be saved in his atheism, is he “follows his conscience”. This is the thinking of an atheist or a very confused deist. he says instead (emphases mine):
As you know, once religion is taken away there cannot be a well ordered, well regulated society. In this point lies the urgency to spur on priests under your guidance in order that, especially during the Holy Year, they spare no efforts so that souls entrusted to them, with their false prejudices and erroneous convictions cast aside, and hatreds and discords settled, may nourish themselves on the teachings of the Gospel and thus participate in Christian life so as to hasten the desired renewal of morals.
You can’t found a societal order on anything else than Christ. Those who think otherwise must change their mind. Unless they get to understand the truth, they will be spiritual starving individuals.
There are other very interesting points touched in the encyclical, that are – that cannot but be – completely opposite to Francis’ Castroite Weltanschauung. But this here seemed to me the most relevant: those who Francis considers good guys helping him to do what is really important (not Christ, no; redistribute income and have a world government that tries to prevent you from using the aircon) are to the Pope of Fatima a veritable poison of society, one that every bishop and priest must do his best to extirpate.
How the times have changed. What a sad joke the papacy has become.
Every now and then, you hear or read around about people claiming to be “good without God”.
I think the expression does not make sense. Let us see why.
In order to be considered objectively good, a man would have to comply with standards of goodness that are both objective and immutable. They must be objective, because otherwise this alleged “goodness” degenerates into mere self-appreciation. They must be immutable, because if good and bad change with the time goodness becomes mere conformism to accepted rules. This, at least, in what concerns the basics and the fundamentals; not, of course, the particular mores of this or that age, or region.
God is Goodness, and Goodness is based upon God. Take God away from the equation and you will not find any instance of objective Goodness anywhere, merely senseless emoting.
Christians, and particularly Catholics, have a set of fundamental rules they cannot dispose of or manipulate in any way, at least if they want to be truthful and refuse to lie to themselves. These fundamental rules are objective, because fixed once and for all in Church doctrine; and they are immutable because coming from God, Who cannot change. God, Who is Goodness, tell us what Good is. Neither God nor Good can ever change. Therefore, Goodness is – in its fundamentals – immutable and eternal. This is the only way it can work.
I am unable to find anything of the sort among atheists of every colour and shade. They define their goodness upon the fact that they have decided, for themselves, that they are good according to their own private metre of goodness. It's like saying that you are intelligent because a jury formed by you, you and you has unanimously decided that you are.
What is, then, this “goodness” they claim? Merely the fact that they like themselves. Which isn't difficult, I dare say, and something most people who aren't self-hating perverts manage without any problem whatsoever every day of the week.
Three abortions? What a heroine of reproductive rights! Anarcho-bully? Ah, a shining example of “fighter” for “change”! Enviro-terrorist? Look, look how he heroically fights for our future!
This is a game in which you get to decide if you are a winner. An emotionally-driven nonsense with no base in logic. The triumph of smugness and self-adoration.
But then again atheism has no logic, and makes no sense. It does not surprise that it should attract those who are unable to think logically.
And now please excuse me. I am not one of those “good without God”, but one of those “wretched sinners with Him”.
Therefore, my time is now better employed with prayer.
Mr Smith just bought a new watch. His new purchase is a mechanical watch, a very fine work of Swiss craftsmanship. As he walks out of the shop with his new supertoy on his wrist, he can’t but think of the hundreds of tiny little parts, working together to create a little marvel of engineering: a machine able to accurately measure time without the use of any electric, electronic, or other help but the pure mechanical movements of the parts it contains. A work of beauty, and a mechanical wonder.
Mr Smith thinks of his little marvel as he walks. He does not doubt in the least that this machine is a manufactured product. It does not occur to him to think that the parts of the watch created themselves out of absolutely nothing, and – after having created themselves in this most absurd of ways – absurdly found themselves combined, by sheer coincidence, into the sophisticated machine he now proudly wears on his wrist; he knows it is not so, as he listens with childish but manly wonderment to the fascinating tiny movements coming from inside it.
No, Mr Smith does not think that his watch created itself by itself, out of nothing, by pure multiple coincidence, out of tiny parts equally created from nothing and marvellously put together, in some mysterious way, by the working of non-yet-existing chance, and made of non-yet-existing matter, through non-yet-existing physical laws. Even if he did not know that the watchmaker actually exists, he would consider the above mentioned reasoning utterly absurd. From nothing comes nothing. It’s blindingly obvious.
Nothing happens by itself, without a force or energy or work making it happen. Mr Smith knows this perfectly well. An effect must have a cause that originated it. The watch exists because skilled watchmakers created it, assembling hundreds of tiny pieces they crafted themselves on those wonderful tiny watchmaker’s benches, out of material that was already there, by applying a carefully planned master plan to every tiny part they have crafted. With this work, all the parts work in a complex but very efficient harmony. Without this work, the watch would simply not have come to existence. Mr Smith knows all this. ‘Course he does.
Mr Smith also knows that his new, fine watch cannot go on forever out of its own being. Its functioning requires energy that must be provided to the machine if the machine is not only to exist, but to work at all. He knows that the energy is given to the machine by winding a tiny spring by means of a little wheel or, as in his case, by letting a tiny, but extremely sophisticated rotor wind up the spring through the energy provided by Mr Smith’s own movements. In both cases, energy must be provided. In both cases, a provider of energy (himself) will provide the indispensable force necessary for the movement of the machine. In any case, there would be no movement without the energy required for it. Mr Smith knows all this. ‘Course he does.
All this is, then, perfectly clear to Mr Smith. He will explain it tonight to his five years old, as they sit at the living room table and papa explains to his sons the wonders of a mechanical watch. His son will, though only five years old, have no difficulty in understanding the basic concepts: the watch was crafted, which is why it exists; and the watch needs energy, without which it would not tick.
When his son is a bit older, papa will explain to him another basic concept: the universal application of the Laws of Physics. He will explain to him that light travels at the same speed all over the Universe; that the Law of Gravity is equally valid on the Moon or on Mars, and regulates the very structure of the Universe. At some point, though, he will have to explain something strange: that the planets all move without anyone “winding the spring”. He will, then, “explain” to his boy that, just like the watch, the planets are not able to generate the force necessary for their own motion. But unlike the watch, they (erm; cough) move.
“Why do they move?”, will the child ask. “Oh, they just do”, Papa will say.
“But who provides the energy, papa? How can they move without being, erm, wound up?”
“Erm, uh, well… they move! They just do!”
Poor, poor Mr Smith! He buys a fine mechanical watch, and he understands everything of its way of functioning. He knows the basic principles of physics, and he has studied at school that an inanimate body can only move if an energy is applied to it.
He knows all that. ‘Course he does. He considers all this basic knowledge. But he is utterly unable to use it. His intellect has grasped the watch in its intimate essence. He looks at the starry sky in a warm summer night, and knows very well what it is that he is seeing. He even knows that all those tiny light points obey in the end to the very same laws as his watch. But can he apply his knowledge beyond the watch? No, he can’t. He just does not get it. Better said, he refuses to do it.
Mr Smith is an atheist, you see. He knows all the rules. He merely refuses to apply them, if this is inconvenient to him.
When Mr Smith’s car was towed away for wrongful parking he saw an empty parking bay where his car was supposed to be. He did not think that the molecules of his car must have casually rearranged themselves in some strange way out there in the ether, for reasons no one knows, using energy come from no one knows where, out of blind casuality without any purpose. No! It was the thieves, or the road enforcement! Never the atoms casually rearranging themselves! Funny, isn’t it?
Mr Smith knew ( ‘course he knew…) that if the car was not there, it was because something or someone that is not the car had applied an energy to the car sufficient to remove it from its place: the towing truck, or perhaps a thief, or in extreme cases a flood or hurricane, all can do it. But out of itself, and with no energy or intervention, the car would not move, or change, or do anything.
Mr Smith is very logical in his daily thinking. He applies his knowledge with wonderful coherence. The world he sees around him perfectly squares with his own knowledge. It all makes irrefutable, inescapable sense.
But when Mr Smith looks above in a beautiful, warm, starry Summer night, he suddenly stops thinking. Basic logic, laws of physics, and the law of causality are suddenly suspended for reasons about which he never thinks, about which he refuses to think.
He believes in Gravity, and does not see it. He knows all of the workings of his watch, which nowadays he can’t even really open. He sees a documentary on Mars and the entire thing makes perfect sense to him. He learns about the vastness of the Universe, and knows the same rules apply to it as to his watch.
Still, he believes that the universe, for some reason, created itself out of nothing. The Universe, for some reason, created the energy for its movement by itself. The Universe, for some reason, arranged itself in a way infinitely more sophisticated than any conceivable watch, out of sheer luck, starting from a state of non-existence out of which, in force of some non-esistent event, suddenly a Universe existed, comprising an immense variety of life forms, and a vastness beyond imagination.
His tiny watch could never do it. His own car could never remove itself out of existence. Without energy, both of them would simply stand still. But the Universe, to which he knows the very same rules apply, escapes all of them!
Pity Mr Smith. His watch tells him every day that there is a God, and that this God must be clearly omnipotent. The starry sky positively shouts it to him. He has all the knowledge he needs. He considers himself a logical, mature, thinking man, with an inquisitive mind. And still, he is blind.
Mr Smith has blinded himself out of pride. He has refused to think when it was so important, and at the same time so easy, to do so. He is in great danger of paying a very dear price for it.
Pity the man: too deaf to listen to his watch, too blind to look at the starry sky and make 2+2, too arrogant to accept anything higher than himself. And he knows it all. He has all the knowledge he needs. His own child is very near to it. He would only needs a cool reflection, and the required dosis of humility. He refuses to provide either.
Pride is the sin of Lucifer.
Pity Mr Smith.
And it came to pass yours truly was informed – by looking at a poster – of the existence of “memorial gardens”.
I have looked in some search engine what it is, and it soon became clear enough: a memorial garden is a place where people go to remember their loved ones who have left this vale of tears. With some space for them, perhaps a plaque on it, perhaps some ashes. What is, then, the difference with a Cemetery?
I can only imagine one difference: a memorial garden is something absolutely a-religious. In short, something for atheists.
A cemetery, you see, is full of crosses. One is constantly reminded of the great hope of a better life awaiting, one day, those who have departed this world. How annoying must it be to the mind of the atheist, who hates to be reminded that there is a judgment, and one without appeal!
Let him, therefore, do something different, and travel on a Saturday morning – Sunday is, clearly, meant for grocery shopping – in a pleasant garden, where his beloved former partner or parent or relative will be thought of in a soothing, pleasant, utterly relaxing environment. Thus pleasing first, second and last the one who does the thinking.
These atheists are, I am told, exactly those who consider Christians people who believe in fairy tales.
A believer can walk in a cemetery, look at the immensity of the sky above him, at the organised beauty of life unfolding under his eyes, and rationally understand the necessity of the existence of God. What he sees above, and what he knows of the above, is what makes sense of the tombs and monuments around him. A cemetery is not the parody of anything else. It is the real thing, and it truly makes sense.
The atheist is, on the other hand, supposed to be a rational man. Still, not only he refuses to see what every perceptive child understands – that such a huge and hugely organised universe must have a Great Chief In Charge – but he lacks the guts to look at the consequences of his conviction against the faith. He needs some balm for the coldness around him: therefore, he builds for himself a senseless parody of a cemetery, deprived of any logic but his own self delusion.
Look, atheist friend. You believe that your parents are gone. Either they were burned in an oven like they do with waste, or they were put under the earth for worms to go to work at them. In both cases, what they have become is, pretty much, fertiliser. And yes, that's that, folks.
What sense does it make, then, to have a “memorial garden?”. Wouldn't any old nice park do the same? And what use is this revelling on the atrocious reality of the atheist? Fertiliser them, and fertiliser him, at the end of a life that makes no sense at all and is the very epitome of mad, or rather blind, casual injustice. Feelings of filial or parental love which, as the atheist must recognise, are but evolutionary mechanisms the human species, as every other halfway complex animal, evolved to protect itself from an hostile environment. Feeling of sadness for their departure which, as the atheist must recognise, are also but the way The Great Mad Life Machine, which actually – he must recognise it – doesn't even exist, forces him to love others and spend money on them; money which could, otherwise, be spent on gambling, drinking and whoring without the shadow of even an uncomfortable moment.
“This is my business”, says the atheist. “If I enjoy walking around in a memorial garden, what's it to you?”
It is a lot to me, dear peripatetic atheist. It shows that you, who claim the command of logical thinking, are but an emotional child, lost in a big world you cannot even begin to understand, and terrified of it; a world you cannot bear without surrounding yourself with exactly the soothing feelings and pleasant lies of which you say Christians and other believers are the willing, gullible victims. You are looking for pleasant feelings, because you are afraid of the unpleasant truth: that you will die and end up in an oven, or as worm food, and nothing of what you have said or done, alone or in company, for or against Christianity, good or bad, useful or useless, has, or ever could have, any meaning at all. Any meaning, I mean, that does not come from the fantasies of a child, fancying he loves a world which will devour him without a shred of an emotion.
Your mother is ashes now. So is everyone you knew before you discovered you wanted to be the Great Decider yourself, answerable to none but you. And all this does not make any sense, there is no glory or beauty in any of it. Your mother loved and nurtured you out of the pure instinct of making litter until she died, like every other animal. Your love for her is due to the same mechanisms. No one is ever good or right, or even heroic and selfless. Nature has made it all. All your hopes and aspirations, your passions and loves, your oh so humanitarian desires show only one thing: you are duped; you are the slave of your own DNA, used by it for the sake of its own perpetuation as you get discarded and thrown in the compost. This is all you will ever be good for.
Therefore, my dear atheist, abandon this emotional and childish nonsense of the “memorial garden”. It is, in your perspective, as senseless as everything else. Reflect, rather, on your own utter nothingness: an absurd joke of coincidence living among other jokes of coincidence, and living a short existence towards the pure nothing as they search some small comfort, and try to reproduce for reasons they actually can't fathom (which is why they, in fact, contracept massively).
It is better for you to recognise the brutal reality that dominates your thinking: you are the slave of your DNA until the day you die.
At which point, you will be only useful as fertiliser.
I don’t know what to make of this.
It seems too warped even from the perspective of the interviewee. A mockery of Satanism. A kind of comedic denunciation of any cult. An attention-seeking device.
Satan is, by definition, evil. No one in his right mind would choose evil over good. More to the point, no one would, if mad to such an extent, think that his position can become in any way popular among the public.
This satanism theatre is, more probably, an atheist’s plaything to mock Christianity, enjoying the scandal they cause among Christians and getting name recognition in the process.
Take the project to erect a Satan statue. What meaning can it have, if not a mockery of organised religion? Who would proclaim evil good, and good evil? And if it be so, why would the proposers of such a theory not proceed to give allegiance to… good, once ascertained that it is… evil? And so back, and forth, in a mad ping-pong?
No. The organiser of such stunts says himself he “was” an atheist, and it is very obvious to me he and his followers all are. Then if they believed in Satan, they would as a consequence believe in God; and noone in his right mind would choose eternal suffering.
Satan is, by definition, the Father of Lies. He works through subtle deception, not open approval. The most evil people generally think they’re good. Pol Pot, Lenin and Che Guevara no doubt felt they were true philanthropists. Nowadays even Angelina Jolie thinks she has some higher calling. Others, like Stalin, were simply not afraid of punishment.
No. I don’t buy this one. I think this is nothing more than a twisted form of attention-seeking atheist wannabe comedy.
But notice this: by not believing in Satan and using him as an anti-Christian vehicle, this people … make the work of the devil.
Satan, the Father of Lies, deceives them into believing he obviously does not exist, and uses them for his purposes through this means. He mocks in a twisted way the unbelief of those who mock Christianity, and lures them into his net by leading them to believe there is no net at all, and they can have a great time making a mockery of it. These people think themselves very bright and very funny guys (and, possibly, gals); but there are no smart guys – and no smart gals – in hell. There are only people too clever by half, thinking themselves so superior to those superstitious people, and who were too in love with their own intellect – or whatever was in its place – to humbly accept their allotted place in the great scheme of things.
Therefore, these “satanists” are being had at their own game. Whilst mocking, they are being made a mockery of. Whilst thinking they are playing a subtle game of deception, Satan in playing the same game to them. Whilst feeling so smart, they are being very stupid. They are flies who have decided they are too smart to believe in the existence of the spider as they fly toward the net.
Which, in turn, would be funny. If it wasn’t so serious, and so unspeakably tragic.
It appears that our oh so merciful Bus Passenger In Chief is not easily pleased… with us Catholics.
If you are a lukewarm Catholic he will call you a number of names, among them lazy ass (he will not say that, talking of sloth instead; but everyone gets the gist) and he will make clear to you how much you must move your backside at once. Even going to Mass every Sunday will not be enough; because you see, the same man not worried that people die in their atheism feels the need to read the Leviticus to you if your Mass attendance isn't spirited enough.
You would think, then, that being an orthodox Catholic is something that might please the man: a zealous defender of the Faith not only punctually attending to Mass at least every Sunday, but doing it with love for the Lord and His Church; the same love which prompts him to be a vocal defender of the Faith outside of the church building, and an all-round decent Christian chap. But no, he does not like them, either. He does not like them at all. He calls them all sorts of names, questions their sincerity, mocks their way of praying, despises their desire to give a good example and to be seen as living a Christian life. In Francis' world, good people are just hypocrites.
So, if you are zealous you are criticised, and if you are lukewarm you are criticised too. If you are very bad, you will be just fine, then God only wants to forgive you, ah, uh, no?
What must one do, then, to get Francis' sympathy? I think I know the answer: you must be an atheist, a homosexual, or anyone else who doesn't give a fig for Our Lord and His Church and is very sinful but has a social agenda. If you are such a chap he will immediately put you among the excellent people,like the “good Marxists” he loves to praise; he will please you in every possible way, give you interviews, invite your journalists in the Vatican for one of the many cover stories, and will suddenly – which he does not dream of doing with both the zealous and the lukewarm – adopt the “who am I to judge?” attitude.
Smell of sainthood, and Francis will call you a hypocrite. Smell of s…heep, and you will be his hero.
We must realise that this is the thinking of one who really, really dorsn't care a straw for Christ, Catholicism or the Church. To him, they are merely accessories to a social ideology that is his true religion, and to which his allegiance goes. When you realise Francis ticks in this way, you start to understand much more of what he goes around saying.
And the most infuriating thing is that this man is either so stupid or so arrogant that he does not care in the least for a minimum of coherence in what he says. The “who am I to judge” guy is the most obnoxious, petty rompiscatole of the planet in the minutest things, for example criticising people if they don't smile at him in the right way, and adding further indelicate remarks like telling to people they must not “smile like flight attendants”, or to nun that they must not “be old maids”.
Francis shoots every day with the crap cannon, and says things that would have everyone else constantly ridiculed, and the butt of worldwide jokes in no time. He is so superficial, so fond of platitudes, so full of his third-rate intellect that he wouldn't survive a debate I do not say with a Bishop Fellay, but with every smart and well instructed boy of fifteen. You listen to him and wonder how on heck this man was allowed to become a priest.
But he is the Pope and, most crucially, he tells to the world what the world wants to hear; what the world, in fact, delights in hearing from a Pope, one who should be a great spiritual leader and is content with being the main attraction in the secular circus that praises him.
Come all in, ladies and gentlemen. Today our main clown Francis The Merciful will produce himself in his main number, the feat that has made him famous worldwide: bashing Catholics as he exalts Atheists, Muslims, Jews, and Socialists of various shades of red. You, young woman, are you an atheist? What about that gentleman over there? And you, that lady with the veil, you must surely follow the Koran?
Come on in, dear ladies and gentlemen!
I assure you, you will be pleased.
From one of Francis’ continuous stream of public homilies (one hopes La Stampa’s translator is better than the one of the Official Vatican News service).
“A Christian is a person who “thinks like a Christian, feels like a Christian and acts like a Christian. And this is coherency in the life of a Christian. Someone can be said to have faith, “but if one of these things is missing, he is not a Christian, there’s something wrong, there’s a certain incoherence.”
Eugenio Scalfari is a person who thinks like an Atheist, feels like an Atheist and acts like an Atheist. Well, I must admit there’s a certain coherence in that. This must be why Francis did not feel the need to say one word of disapprobation to him.
The moral? For Francis, woe to you if you are a weak Christian. It is far better to be a coherent Atheist.
“And when there is no Christian coherency, and you live with this incoherence, you’re giving scandal. And the Christians that are not coherent are giving scandal.”
And where there is no Christian coherency, and a Pope lives with this incoherence, calling Proddies “brother bishops”, hobnobbing with Atheists to whom he promises salvation if they follow their conscience whilst berating Traditionalists and orthodox Catholics every forty-five minutes, he is giving scandal.
If you find yourself in front of – imagine! – in front of an atheist and he tells you he doesn’t believe in God, you can read him a whole library, where it says that God exists and even proving that God exists, and he will not have faith. But if in the presence of this atheist you bear coherent witness of Christian life, something will begin to work in his heart. It will be your witness that that he will bring this restlessness on which the Holy Spirit works. It’s a grace that we all, the whole Church must ask for: ‘Lord, [grant] that we might be coherent.’”
If you tell this Atheist he can be saved if he follows his conscience, he will simply not care a straw for the way you live. Particularly if this involves things like no fornication, no abortion, no divorce, and no contraception.
Ann Coulter's statement that if the Pope believes you don't need to be Catholic he may as well work as an anchor for some TV outlet is quite right.
Extra ecclesiam nulla salus. Jesus will certainly admit, in the last moment before death, some unbaptised, and certainly a greater number of non Catholics into that Church outside of which there can be no salvation; but this is subject to very strict criteria, chief of which is Invincible Ignorance, and it certainly requires an uncommon amount of stupidity – or else, Jesuitism – to think this “escape hell” card is something one can confidently expect. Two thousand years of Catholic tradition, and the clear mandate of Jesus Himself, show this beyond doubt.
If, therefore, someone believes that belonging to the Only Church is some kind of nice, “joy bringing” accessory whose lack does not stay in the way of salvation provided one is a good chap of more or less humanitarian attitude, he has no business being the Pope.