Why I Believe the Beatification of John Paul II is a Mistake.

The Catholic Church has never been immune to political correctness, and there are many "sacred cows" in the Church today that one must never criticize: women, victims of sexual abuse, unionized Catholic school teachers, etc. One group we rarely think of, however, is recent popes. It seems that every pope we can remember in our life-times has to be the best pope ever! Even Pope Benedict—who comes closest my own idea of "the best pope ever"—is just a little too found of referring to his immediate predecessor as "The Great," an ancient title with a particular meaning, which usually takes a couple of hundred years or so after someone's canonization to receive.

There is a reason that the process leading up to beatification and eventual canonization is protracted, and it’s not simply to give time for sufficient miracles to take place or to unearth unseemly skeletons in the closet. Nor is it sufficient to say that, since the requisite number of miracles has been verified, we must proceed. Beatification and canonization are more than simple statements that someone enjoys the beatific vision and hears prayers of intercession;—which is all that the miracles prove—it is also a statement by the Church that an individual’s life, work, words and prudential judgments have probative and lasting value to the faithful to the degree that his example is to be venerated for all time, and his commemoration at the altar is to be commanded. To put it bluntly, I don’t believe Karol Wojtyla’s do. Make no mistake: I have no doubt that Wojtyla is now in heaven and, as such, is a “saint” in the broadest possible meaning of that word; but I also believe that his beatification is a mistake; and this for two reasons which, no doubt, will be considered offensive to those who just can’t wait to get another glittery holy card to stick in their prayer books. To those who mistakenly believe that beatification and canonization do nothing more than recognize a holy life, my arguments will be wasted.

God’s first words to Moses were His identification of Himself: “I am!” He always "is what He is," and His teachings eternally "are what they are." His "yes" is "yes" and His "no" is "no." His incarnation in the person of Jesus Christ underlined God’s desire for His Truth and the truths of the natural world that He created clearly to be "seen," even if they could not completely be understood. Christ told those who had eyes and ears to open them up and see and hear what was plainly set out before them: the reality of a good created world; the tragedy of its sinful use by mankind; the individual’s need for Redemption; and the way in which nature must be both heeded and yet corrected and refashioned in order to help human beings to transform the entire universe ad maiorem Dei gloriam. Jesus spoke clearly, "as one having authority," with respect to His unambiguous teachings. Great pontificates, like that of Blessed Pius IX, take their cue from Our Savior’s model. They "see and hear." They "are what they are." They teach what they teach "as one having authority."

While the need to express the truths of the faith in a manner which can be understood—and, therefore, embraced—by modern man is not arguable except by the most rigid of monolithic traditionalists; it is crucial that the one doing the expressing keep clearly in mind that it is the ear of modern man that needs to be, somehow, attuned to receive these immutable truths, and not the truths that need to be adapted to suit the sensibilities of the modern ear. In this regard, the teachings of Karol Wojtyla as Pope John Paul II represent one of the most egregious attacks on the clarity of Catholic teaching in a thousand years, as can plainly be seen in his many encyclicals and apostolic exhortations. While it is not possible here to catalog in detail every example with appropriate citations, I wish merely to present the kernel of the sentiment, leaving the rest to later.

Ungodly ideas, events and institutions abound in history: despotism, communism, totalitarianism, Nazism, etc. In contrast with their godly counterparts, they leave a muddy and bewildering trail behind them. They are at war among themselves and with nature as a whole, often possessing an outward face that seems to be straightforward and an inward reality that is definitely not. Their "yes" is "no" and their "no" is "yes." The ground that they occupy is in perpetual eruption. As Iago, destroyer of Shakespeare’s Othello, chillingly says, revealing his ungodly identity in the process, "I am not what I am." That being said, part of the Iago-esque character of Wojtyla’s papal teaching cannot be laid entirely at his own door, as most Catholics tend to see and hear what they wish to see and hear in their pope;—part and parcel of that inevitable “pope-worship” I referenced above, where every pope in our lifetime has to be “the best ever”—nevertheless, the fact that his papal teaching is able to be adapted to suit the ear of the hearer or the eye of the reader is, in itself, a flaw which has had disastrous results.

To be more specific, the problem lies with Pope Wojtyla’s personal enslavement to Enlightenment rhetoric. That rhetoric, as numerous nineteenth century Catholic thinkers (Louis Veuillot, Cardinal Pie, the editors of La Civiltà Cattolica, and the circle around Archbishop Ketteler of Mainz among them) cogently demonstrated, is the instrument of a monumental, thoroughgoing con game; one that precisely institutionalizes murkiness and contradiction as though it were the height of human wisdom. It’s rallying cry, like the rallying cries of all great heresies down through the centuries, gives every indication of being a thoroughly orthodox, if not a downright inspired, advancement in the frenetic race to couch all old truths in new wineskins: “The dignity of the human person.” And, no, it is not simply because the phrase doesn’t appear in the Gospel or the Apostolic and sub-Apostolic Fathers.

The con game opens with a surface message of Enlightenment appreciation for what appear to be acceptably traditional and even transparently Christian themes extolling "nature," "order," "reason," "freedom," "dignity," "love for the people," and "personal perfection," to which four devastating caveats turn out to be indivisibly attached. The first of these necessitates a change in the spirit behind the words of the originally seductive message, placing them at the service of a world view that understands man to be a limitless, sinless (or, paradoxically, uncontrollably sinful) independent being, with nature as his helpless victim. Next comes an insistence upon abandonment of the Incarnation, Revelation, Socratic philosophy, Aristotelian logic, science, and every other natural or supernatural force that might in any way define, clarify, and render comprehensible exactly what words like "nature" might possibly mean, since setting up boundaries would oh so dangerously limit the individual’s freedom to change his mind at the capricious drop of a hat. The third footnote reveals the fact that the strongest and most willful individuals and self-interest groups, representing the most violent and insane ideas and passions, will eventually be able to use their uncontrollable "freedom" to define the indefinable to their own overwhelming advantage. Finally, the last caveat informs the weak that their liberty will be forever limited to an obligation mindlessly to praise this irrational and oppressive tyranny of the strong as the most open, intelligent and beneficent system that human beings have ever enjoyed or could enjoy.

Believing himself firmly planted within the sphere of traditional Catholic moral teaching, based on Aristotelian anthropology, Pope Wojtyla was unable to see what popes of a century before could see so clearly; and that’s one of the reasons why his pontificate—at least on the level of its teaching—did more harm than good. Nineteenth-century Catholic thinkers warned that Enlightenment rhetoric already rigorously controlled the popular use of language in their day. They warned that, for a Catholic to adopt this all-powerful rhetoric under such adverse conditions, thinking that he might utilize it for his own traditional purposes, would be a foolhardy enterprise, tantamount to taking a ride on the back of a duplicitous monster.

In doing so, he would, in effect, be using its soothing, "traditional" surface message to issue a safe conduct pass for acceptance of its four caveats. His fellow Catholics, who would thus hear seemingly Christian words and Enlightenment corollaries at one and the same time, would become bewildered. Bewilderment would lead to anarchy in Christendom, ending in its manipulation by precisely the same strong and willful Warlords who benefited from Enlightenment "freedom" in society at large. These strong men would then play with theology and philosophy and the spiritual life as they saw fit, turning it into a caricature of its original self. They would teach (and force) weak, ordinary believers to recite lobotomizing mantras extolling the rational blessings that had been bestowed upon them by the oppressive "liberators" who were perverting their religion. Adoption of such rhetoric by a ruling pope would institutionalize the con game immeasurably further, inviting murkiness into the very center of the Church’s life. But is that not, in fact, what happened? Is not that murkiness all too evident when a lay Catholic is asked to explain his Church’s teaching on anything that requires either thought or conviction, from artificial contraception to the Sunday obligation?

Ironically, Archbishop Karol Wojtyla developed his “Lublin Thomism” to counter the philosophical con game already at work in his own country, purposely couching it in the vocabulary of Communism as a rouse; unfortunately, he failed to see its limitations, nor did he abandon it when he left home for Rome. As one of my first professors of Philosophy, Father Twadell, once said, “When someone places a word before ‘Thomism,’ no matter what it may be, run the other way. ‘Neo-Thomism,’ regardless of the qualifier, is always ‘non-Thomism.’” How could a pontificate that exposed the entirety of Catholic Tradition and the whole of the Christian Commonwealth to the whims of tyrannical freedom fighters and irrational rationalists not become the antithesis of an absolutely straightforward reign like that of the Pope of the Syllabus of Errors? How, indeed.

Obviously, adoption of an Enlightenment rhetoric leading to maddeningly contradictory conclusions did not begin with Wojtyla’s pontificate; his reign, however, had much more time than those of John XXIII and Paul VI to test the lugubrious results. These have been exactly what nineteenth century Catholic thinkers predicted they would be. The Catholic Church, in different ways and in different places, became a global instrument for the spread of Enlightenment ideology, shaped according to the caprice of whichever ecclesiastical bureaucrat, journalist, politician, neo-conservative, capitalist, investment or advertising consultant, financial or sex criminal, or purveyor of vicious utopia and utopian vice happened, locally, to be in charge of it. The "fresh air" of Reason and its theological handmaidens polluted Catholics with whatever poisons these local reigning Warlords wished it to spread. Progressive spirituality introduced us to various forms of materialist Warlord reductionism. A supposedly wholesome separation of Church and State yielded a tighter cooperation of the religious authorities with the Führers of the neighborhood Zeitgeist than anything ever noticeable in any stage of history. Attempts to reestablish legitimate authority by "flying the flag," through the constant movement that Michael Davies once referred to as the "Opiate of the Popes," turned Wojtyla’s Papacy into an overworked Travel Agency, intensifying the daily administrative vacuum, and insuring that the pontiff who had been seen the most in Church History had actually reigned considerably less than most of his predecessors. Curial efforts to reiterate solid Catholic teaching were swallowed up by the obligation of continued obeisance to Enlightenment intellectual, political and social idols, muddying the very same documents or public ceremonies where their errors are meekly questioned. The Church still teaches, though the authority really lies with the different Warlords. She speaks, but it is their decadent Enlightenment commands which are regularly carried out. These commands are contradictory and, quite literally, maniacal. Murk and confusion rule supreme. It is the Mad Hatters’ Tea Party, from the wholesale rejection of clear Catholic teaching on contraception, to the territorial morality of pro-abortion Catholic politicos receiving Communion in one diocese and being refused it in another. That is the ideological and magisterial legacy of Pope John Paul II.

So much for the philosophical. In the realm of the practical, arguments against the beatification are destined to be both controversial and personal. Numerous examples could be given—from questionable episcopal appointments to slowness in recognizing and dealing with sexual abuse—all of which can be intelligently argued both ways; but, as an Eastern Catholic, I will give only one: the selling out of the Eastern Catholic Churches in a vain attempt to go down in history as the pope who healed the Great Schism.

The Great Schism of 1054, which separated the Roman and Constantinopolitan Churches from one another, remains the quintessential scandal of Christianity. Its healing is rightly regarded as one of the most important duties of the Church. In this regard, Pope Wojtyla said all the right things, reminding us that a healthy Church must “breath with both lungs.” Where there was fault was in the realm of the pragmatic, particularly with regard to the relationship of the Church of Rome to the various Eastern Churches in union with her, and consequently the relationship of Catholicism as a whole to Orthodoxy.

It is important for Roman Catholics to realize that the Orthodox Churches—there is no such thing as “the Orthodox Church”—are a shadow of what they once were. As George Weigel recently observed, what we know as Orthodoxy consists of nothing more than “small pockets of Christianity surrounded on all sides by Islam.” It has long ceased to be anything resembling a global religious movement; and, in 75 years to so, it won’t resemble anything at all since it will probably not exist. In this light, the mania to “heal the Great Schism” is, pragmatically speaking, a waste of time in the sense that the schism will eventually heal itself when the last vestiges of Orthodoxy die out, and all that’s left of Eastern Christianity will be those Churches already in union with Rome. Yet, time and time again, whenever an opportunity presented itself to confirm the faith and fidelity of those already in his fold, Pope Wojtyla never failed to throw them under the bus, as it were, to avoid offending an aging collection of decrepit patriarchs—most of whom in a constant state of war with one another—presiding over near-nonexistent Christian communities. Examples are legion, but two will suffice.

In 1975, when the late Judson Procyk, Metropolitan sui iuris of the Byzantine Catholic Church of the USA, traveled to Rome with members of his flock to receive from Pope John Paul II his pallium as Archeparch of Pittsburgh on the feast of Ss. Peter & Paul, he found that he had been “uninvited” from the concelebration over objections to his presence by the Patriarch of Constantinople. He was, however, permitted to attend the Mass, wearing a suit and standing among the laity who had traveled with him. He did receive his pallium eventually, at a private audience. In my opinion, this event speaks for itself without commentary, and is emblematic of a whole series of unforgivable offenses which occurred throughout the totality of Pope Wojtyla’s papacy.

In 2001, Pope Wojtyla presided over the beatification of Blessed Theodore Romzha, Archbishop of Mukachevo, and the first Ruthenian Catholic to be raised to the altar. Having resisted every threat to force him to renounce his allegiance to the Pope, including the shooting of his priests and the confiscation of his churches by government appointed Orthodox bishops, he suffered a martyr’s death in 1947 (they ran over him with a truck; but when he didn’t die, they poisoned him). His beatification was delayed for many years while hands were wrung over how the Orthodox would react. When he was finally beatified, Pope Wojtyla’s brief decree of beatification, still available on the Holy See’s web site, emphasized his pastoral zeal, made only a brief and veiled reference to the manner of his death, and made no mention at all of the complicity of the Russian Orthodox Church in the suppression of his Eparhcy; the impression given is that it was for Bishop Romzha's pastoral zeal alone that he was being raised to the Altar. Needless to say, our Church celebrates his feast as that of a martyr.

As I said in the beginning, there is no doubt in my mind that Karol Wojtyla is in heaven. The documented miracles approved by the Church as being through his intercession make that question moot. But, as I also said before, beatification and canonization mean a lot more than just recognizing that someone is in heaven. Whether intended or not, they are endorsements of the sum and substance of a man’s whole life before the faithful for all time. There are too many problems with the sum and subtance of Karol Wojtyla to warrant such an act.

Steve, you're mistaken. Fatima is, and always was, a "private revelation," because it's not part of "public revelation," which ceased with the death of the last Apostle. (The contrary proposition was condemned in Lamentabili Sane, Pope St. Pius X, 1907.)

Private revelations bind in faith only those to whom they were given; if they didn't, they'd be public.

A Catholic that attends mass once a month, is not a practicing Catholic. He is likely also committing sacrilege by going to communion without confessing his sins, like the MORTAL sin of not going to mass on Sundays.

It's kind of hard for rigid traditionalist such as myself (lol) since only two Tridentine Masses are offered during a typical month. If you drive 70 miles away you can find a third. But driving 180-220 miles away to a fourth Diocesan Latin Mass just isn't often possible for a family who has lived on savings for the last 12 years like us.

This "we are not bound to believe private revelations" or "the instructions of private revelations", is accurate, the question is, is Fatima really "private"?.

Yes, it really is, including the Miracle of the Sun. Despite it being "public" in the sense that many people saw it, it remains private revelation.

Now, given the multitude of witnesses for the Miracle of the Sun, as well as the Portugal being spared from the Spanish Civil War, I think it is imprudent for us to ignore Fatima.

If idiots like us know all this information, you can be sure that all the popes since the message was passed to Rome, all of them, knew exactly what they had to do, and thus are responsible before God for all the harm that was caused by their lack of belief, or weakness.

Yes, they are responsible for harm caused by lack of belief or weakness. That said, we don't know why they didn't do what Our Lady asked of them - maybe it is weakness, maybe it is lack of belief, maybe it is something else.

I would not presume to judge Pope Benedict, or any past Popes or any to come, concerning a matter of private revelation. I would hope you don't presume to do so either. Certainly encourage, but never judge.

The lack of an accessible TLM hardly excuses one from his obligation to attend Sunday Mass, when a Catholic Liturgy at a Church in communion with Rome is available.

That said, this is the whole reason for Summorum Pontificum: to make valid and licit Tridentine Masses available for those who are have an attachment to the TLM. It sounds like there is genuine pastoral need in your diocese for TLMs more often, and/or at more parishes.

The lack of an accessible TLM hardly excuses one from his obligation to attend Sunday Mass

It does when attendance at a NewMass would endanger ones faith or that of others. Last time I attempted to assist at one my emotional distress was so great it was disruptive to those around me and totally antithetical to my own prayerfulness. Father was aware also.

a self-governing Church >>

what’s that mean? I thought they had to report to a bishop?

It means they are sui iuris. NYer should have some good links for you that will it explain it better than I can.

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