L
larousser
Guest
The other night I had a dream, a bad dream, a nightmare: Vatican II had never taken place!
That is what was explained to me, in a dream, by a young bishop who was introduced to me as the most eminent represenative of Catholic Tradition: “The modernist historians have misinformed us, there has never been a Council and much less any aggiornamento. Haven’t Trent and Vatican I brought Catholic doctrine to its completion and perfection?” For my speaker the reforms have never existed but in the heads of some “idalotorous apostates suspected of intelligence sharing with the Judeo-Masonic enemy”.
Moreover, I must be too for I am under house-arrest in a place that resembles a cloister. I see there shadows go past of tonsured monks. I hear Latin being spoken. I do not know what it is that awaits me. I find myself in front of a bishop with whom I am unfamiliar. On his table, the latest edition of Nouvel Intransigeant and a fairly worn book of Charles Maurras.
Whilst playing with an amethyst that he wears on the ring-finger, in a tone of smooth harshness, this dignatory shows me his motives for my relegation: the unbecoming insistence with which I had commented on the Beatitudes and the Magnifact; the suspicuous friendship with Rabbi Rosenstock and Pastor Morel and the imprudent suggestion I made for dialogue in the diocese with non-believers, Muslims, scientists, my abusive veracular which distracted the faithful from the Sacred Mysteries, the irresponsible manner in which I suggested them to ‘read the signs of the times’, to talk to them and discuss, to train them them into becoming Christian adults. He also acussed me of demagoguery and laxity. I was particularly clear in my rebuttal: would let it be thought that truth is subordinate to love and mercy is better than the law. He finished by saying to me: “Keep in mind that the priest is not a social worker but a soldier of God”.
At this moment, I woke up bursting into sweat, pleased that they had not the time to intimidate me. Especially there to be in communion with the Church and that if the Council hadn’t never taken place, doubtlessly I would have deserted, prefering to get involved with the effervescence of the century rather than rot for months in a Church-fortress which has nothing other than to be visited by ethnologists or folklorists from the School of Higher Studies in Social-Sciences. If the Second Vatican had never taken place, I might have tried to forment a schism…hoping one day for my reintegreation.
One thing is sure: hadn’t it been for a council to desensitize, I could not have swam in that deep river of Tradition. I could not have had access to that which is my reason my living and thinking, believing and hoping, the enternal newness of Christ, the humanity of God, the passion of the other and the joyous liberty of God’s children. And for me to definitivly wash this nightmare, I read the words pronounced by Paul VI on 7th December 1965: he explained that the Council had was nothing other than a ‘friendly and pressing appeal inviting humanity to find God through fraternal love’.
These words are enough to understand that if the Council had never taken place, there would be on this earth less fraternity, less life and even less hope. The Church would today be guilty of failing in this world, to which she is owes to the friendship of God and the light of Christ. Voila, that’s it said. But instead of becoming an integrist of Vatican II, as we insiduously drive the traditionalists, I made a resolution to keep the cap to which I am fixed: to be resolutely a contemporary person: “Contemporain est celui qui reçoit en plein visage le faisceau de ténèbres qui provient de son temps” The quote is from Giorgio Agamben, one of these non-believer philosophers who is yet more dangerous, who read the Fathers of the Church…and who would have had every chance of being put back on the Index, had Vatican II never taken place.
That is what was explained to me, in a dream, by a young bishop who was introduced to me as the most eminent represenative of Catholic Tradition: “The modernist historians have misinformed us, there has never been a Council and much less any aggiornamento. Haven’t Trent and Vatican I brought Catholic doctrine to its completion and perfection?” For my speaker the reforms have never existed but in the heads of some “idalotorous apostates suspected of intelligence sharing with the Judeo-Masonic enemy”.
Moreover, I must be too for I am under house-arrest in a place that resembles a cloister. I see there shadows go past of tonsured monks. I hear Latin being spoken. I do not know what it is that awaits me. I find myself in front of a bishop with whom I am unfamiliar. On his table, the latest edition of Nouvel Intransigeant and a fairly worn book of Charles Maurras.
Whilst playing with an amethyst that he wears on the ring-finger, in a tone of smooth harshness, this dignatory shows me his motives for my relegation: the unbecoming insistence with which I had commented on the Beatitudes and the Magnifact; the suspicuous friendship with Rabbi Rosenstock and Pastor Morel and the imprudent suggestion I made for dialogue in the diocese with non-believers, Muslims, scientists, my abusive veracular which distracted the faithful from the Sacred Mysteries, the irresponsible manner in which I suggested them to ‘read the signs of the times’, to talk to them and discuss, to train them them into becoming Christian adults. He also acussed me of demagoguery and laxity. I was particularly clear in my rebuttal: would let it be thought that truth is subordinate to love and mercy is better than the law. He finished by saying to me: “Keep in mind that the priest is not a social worker but a soldier of God”.
At this moment, I woke up bursting into sweat, pleased that they had not the time to intimidate me. Especially there to be in communion with the Church and that if the Council hadn’t never taken place, doubtlessly I would have deserted, prefering to get involved with the effervescence of the century rather than rot for months in a Church-fortress which has nothing other than to be visited by ethnologists or folklorists from the School of Higher Studies in Social-Sciences. If the Second Vatican had never taken place, I might have tried to forment a schism…hoping one day for my reintegreation.
One thing is sure: hadn’t it been for a council to desensitize, I could not have swam in that deep river of Tradition. I could not have had access to that which is my reason my living and thinking, believing and hoping, the enternal newness of Christ, the humanity of God, the passion of the other and the joyous liberty of God’s children. And for me to definitivly wash this nightmare, I read the words pronounced by Paul VI on 7th December 1965: he explained that the Council had was nothing other than a ‘friendly and pressing appeal inviting humanity to find God through fraternal love’.
These words are enough to understand that if the Council had never taken place, there would be on this earth less fraternity, less life and even less hope. The Church would today be guilty of failing in this world, to which she is owes to the friendship of God and the light of Christ. Voila, that’s it said. But instead of becoming an integrist of Vatican II, as we insiduously drive the traditionalists, I made a resolution to keep the cap to which I am fixed: to be resolutely a contemporary person: “Contemporain est celui qui reçoit en plein visage le faisceau de ténèbres qui provient de son temps” The quote is from Giorgio Agamben, one of these non-believer philosophers who is yet more dangerous, who read the Fathers of the Church…and who would have had every chance of being put back on the Index, had Vatican II never taken place.
