Last Temptation of the Mystical Body of Christ

In these final hours before we begin the Sacred Triduum, it is obvious to see the temptations being put to the Bride, the Mystical Body of Christ. As we get closer and closer to the Most Sacred of days, the voices become louder and angrier, more frenzied and it becomes hard and harder for us to remain calm in the face of this storm of rabid hostility.

This morning as I prayed the Divine Office, I went through the depths of the temptation to lash back at Pope Benedict XVI's (and therefore OUR) persecutors. I read these words with gritted teeth:

Psalm 52

Against a calumniator

Why do you boast of your wickedness

you champion of evil

planning ruin all day long,

your tongue like a sharpened razor,

you master of deceit?

You love evil more than good;

lies more than truth.

You love the destructive word,

you tongue of deceit.

For this God will destroy you

and remove you for ever.

He will snatch you from your tent and uproot you

from the land of the living.

The just shall see and fear.

They shall laugh and say: 

"So this is the man who refused to take God as his stronghold,

but trusted in the greatness of his wealth

and grew powerful by his crimes."

When I reached the end of that passage, I was ready to pray the imprecatory psalms - those psalms that are NOT in the psalter or used at Mass. I was ready to, in anger, call down fire and brimstone upon those who so hate us and so hate Christ.

Then I read on:

But I am like a growing olive tree

in the house of God.

I trust in the goodness of God

for ever and ever.

I will thank you for evermore;

for this is your doing.

I will proclaim that your name is good,

in the presence of your friends.

Psalm-prayer

Father, you cut down the unfruitful branch for burning and prune the fertile to make it bear more fruit. Make us grow like the laden olive trees in your domain, firmly rooted in the power and mercy of your Son, so that you may gather from us fruit worthy of eternal life.

Ant.  I have put all my trust in God's never-failing mercy.

Having finished that section, I was amazed at how quickly I had passed from near-rage into calm thoughtfulness, and even...trust. That's when it hit me.

We faithful Catholics are angry. We are angry about the abuse of children, yes, but also angry at the continuing abuse of these victims at the hands of money-grubbing, vile souls who are victimizing them again, all  for personal gain. We are angry at the bigoted media vipers and their henchmen who ignore the facts and instead perpetuate lies against the Holy Father.  Oh, yes, we are angry, and many bloggers, Catholic journalists, and Catholics on the street are fighting back.  Some honorably, and with use of intellect and  reason. Others, though, are lashing back with the same kind of anger and hatred as our attackers.

I realized in that moment, that this is the last temptation of the Bride. THIS is what is separating the proverbial goats from the sheep. THIS is a true test of the entire Mystical Body of Christ. Who will be ripped from the Head that is Christ, by their own choosing and behavior, and who will remain and follow the example of Jesus Himself?

Jesus was ridiculed, and false charges heaped upon him. He was beaten, he was scourged, even having been judged as innocent by the AUTHORITIES who had juris diction of this type of proceeding!  Jesus was dragged into dungeons and a crown of thorns placed on His head. He dragged His heavy cross up the hill and outside the gate to the Place of the Skull where he was nailed to that terrible tree in utter humiliation and made to face the whole world in His nakedness.

Innocent.

And He uttered not a word.

Jesus did not respond to His persecutors. He did not "correct" them. He did not come to His own defense, but took the assault as though what was happening to Him actually meant something else.

Oh, yes, it did. It meant eternal life for His Beloved.

When Jesus DID speak, He prayed for mercy for those who crucified Him.  He told the repentant thief who was crucified next to him that he would join Him in Paradise.  He PRAYED for MERCY for His Persecutors!

How we react in these terrible days, as faithful Catholics, will forever speak of us as a Church, as the Bride of Christ, as the Mystical Body.  How we respond, personally or professionally or both, will speak to the world of our Faith....or lack thereof.

Do we give into the temptation to lash out?  Or instead, do we turn into the Church Militant and do what we are called to do?

We are called to fall down on our knees and beg for mercy for the Holy Father's, and our persecutors!  THAT'S the battle! THAT'S the frontline! THAT is what will turn the tide and send the enemies scattering in terror!  BEG for mercy for them for indeed, they know NOT what they do! We want to pray for ourselves, that we will have the same zeal for the salvation of souls as did Christ himself!

Do not fall into the temptations that come from the Prince of this world, but rather, look to the Cross of Our Lord and the Salvation that is found in Christ alone. Look to His vicar, Pope Benedict XVI who guides us by his own example, which clearly is patterned after Christ.

Do you want to know why so many are attacking so strongly? Because they can see the image of Jesus in Pope Benedict XVI's actions, and it sends the demons that possess this world into a frenzy of hatred and terror.

So be it.

We must be as gentle as lambs but more cunning than the wolves that seek to destroy us. Our weapon:  prayer for those who persecute us. Love in the face of hatred. Life in the face that calls for death. NOTHING can withstand that kind of power.

Holocaust

Not long ago, I read PRIESTBLOCK 25487, the concentration camp memoir of Fr. Jean Bernard. Many people (especially those who say the Catholic Church didn't do anything to help the Jews in WWII) fail to realize that THOUSANDS of Catholic and other Christian clergy suffered the camps and were brutally murdered along with our MILLIONS of Jewish brethren. This book details this reality, through the eyes of one who survived...barely.

I am reproducing here a section from PRIESTBLOCK, because tonight, I watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. This passage may reveal the juxtaposition provided first by an unrelated book...and the movie about friendship in the tyranny of brutality.

Once the door upstairs creaks.

Like a flash I have the axe in my hand and am splitting wood. But nobody comes. I can't see the door, since the stairs go around a corner.

Then from upstairs I hear a small child's voice: "Mister, are you there?"

I am incapable of describing the impression this voice made on me. A greeting from another world! Did such a thing still exist?

At the same time I felt horribly afraid that someone might find me talking to this child...

I still can't see to the top of the stairs and am very careful not to take even one step.

"What are you doing here?" --My tone of voice was intended to be harsh, but I didn't succeed very well.

"You won't tell my mommy, promise?"

"Go back to your mother right now! You'll get dirty down here!"

The little girl went but called back through a crack in the door: "I'll come back tomorrow!"

The next day I was just on my way upstairs with a pail of ashes when I heard a woman's shrill voice calling, "Mathilde, where are you going?"

"To talk to the nice man," the little girl answered.

My heart skipped a beat. What would happen now?

Nothing happened. The girl started down the steps and no one interfered. So the mother didn't mind!

I heaved a sigh of relief.

I never saw the child. On each visit she would push the door open and sit down on the upper steps; then a lively conversation developed between the two of us that was like a ray of light from heaven for me. I told the little girl the most wonderful stories. And thawed in the process myself. I rediscovered my faith in beauty and purity, in innocence and love.

It was all right with me that I never got a glimpse of her. Perhaps she wore long braids, even worse them coiled snail-fashion over her ears, or had some other feature of the master race. As it was I could picture her to myself as the epitome of everything amiable, a messenger from that better world in which I could hardly believe anymore.

It was this scene I had in my mind's eye as I watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. From the very beginning of the movie I was horrified at this very average family first in denial about what was really happening, and then having to face what was really going on in the "farm" next to their house. The prisoner who peeled potatoes, as it turned out, was really a doctor, and in his short conversation with Bruno, I saw the scene from Priestblock.

I saw a human being being treated as an animal, and yet, when the child of the enemy State was in need, he ran to his side and cared for him as though he was his own son. The very normal conversation between an innocent 8 year old and this kind man was a delight, and the film captured the glimmer of hope from him as he looked up, slightly smiling at Bruno's quip. It was a scene parallel to Fr. Bernard's recounting of the little girl who came to converse with him as he worked in the Officer's house.

I held my breath when Bruno's mother arrived and sent the child away. It was as though she wasn't sure how to act. I pleaded with her to say something, to recognize what had happened, and thus the very humanity of the man who had looked out for her son even though it wasn't his "job" to do so. There was an extended moment, wondering whether she would berate the man, get her husband or another soldier, or simply ignore him. As she softly said, "Thank you", I was flooded with relief and gratitude, and hope. I was reminded that there were those who knew what was happening, and disagreed with it, working on their own to figure out how to hide their allegiance to morality from the State that wanted to dictate and enforce an agenda so contrary to natural law and the dignity of humanity.

As the movie progressed, the full horror of what was happening behind the walls surfaced, and even Bruno was given a glimpse. The propaganda being fed to the two children (Bruno and his sister) was absolutely demonic, and yet, one could see Bruno resisting what he was being fed, even as his sister gave herself to it completely.

I'm not going to say anything further about this movie. The ending is shocking, as it should be, for no one should walk away from it without having to face the reality of what happened in Hitler's camps.

In college we read Elie Wiesel's Night for one of our courses, and I'd long ago read The Diary of Ann Frank. Books on this topic abound, from the driest court documents to the most gruesome memoirs. As well they should. And there are still stories and testimonies we will never hear, for who can speak for the experience of the dead?

This is something we should NEVER forget. This very week, a crazed idiot entered the Holocaust Museum and opened fire. As I understand it, he didn't believe the Holocaust ever happened.

How anyone could be in such denial of a well-documented and systematic slaughter of thousands upon thousands of innocent human beings is beyond me.

And yet, we still live in such times. We still live in the age of denial, where people witness or are a part of the violation of civil rights, and anyone who speaks up is condemned. Genocide still happens, around the world. I've written before of the pogroms in India that began last August, wiping out the Christian population in several states. Where I live, there are many Somalian refugees, having fled their own extinction to seek a new home where they could perhaps survive.

Tonight, in watching this movie, I prayed for all those souls who were lost in the camps, and I wondered...how long before the anti-Christian climate in the United States slips that far?

There are some who will read this and ridicule me. The average German and Polish citizen who recognized what was happening were ridiculed, too...just before they were hauled off to the camps to be slaughtered along with the people they sought to defend.

The Fuhrer and his minions tolerated no dissent.

The reality is that the Holocaust happened, and it will happen again because human nature never seems to learn. When the face of the Fuhrer changes, people stick their heads in the sand so as to avoid ever denouncing the actions of their idol. That's why it's SO IMPORTANT to understand and recognize what happened at the hands of the Nazis and the blind acquiescence of the average people who refused to speak up. We must recognize those who risked their lives to speak up...and often lost them. We must recognize the ongoing ability of man to brutally redefine what "humanity" means, in order that his own selfish and demonic agenda be pushed and made to be "acceptable" or at least rendered morally "neutral."

Everyone should read these books and see this movie. And never, ever, forget.
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Bishop Sentenced to JAIL for Cathedral Bells!

This is completely OUTRAGEOUS!

A Bishop (not Catholic) in Phoenix, AZ, has been sentenced to jail time for an alleged noise ordinance.

PHOENIX — A Phoenix bishop received a suspended sentence of 10 days in jail and three years probation Wednesday for violating a Phoenix noise ordinance because his church rang its bells hourly as a way of praising God. The ordinance does not include an exemption for religious worship, though it does provide an exemption for ice cream trucks. Bishop Rick Painter of Cathedral of Christ the King has retained attorneys with the Alliance Defense Fund to pursue legal options to defend his rights.

Read the entire article for more information. And don't think it can't happen wherever you are. The reality is that it's just going to get worse, y'all. It's just going to get worse.
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