The Wild Tears Fall

But this sibyl, whether she is the Erythræan, or, as some rather believe, the Cumæan, in her whole poem, of which this is a very small portion, not only has nothing that can relate to the worship of the false or feigned gods, but rather speaks against them and their worshippers in such a way that we might even think she ought to be reckoned among those who belong to the city of God.... 


 Judgment shall moisten the earth with the sweat of its standard,
 Ever enduring, behold the King shall come through the ages,
    Sent to be here in the flesh, and Judge at the last of the world...

Did he who penned the blessed hymn draw inspiration from the prophecy of the Erythræan Sybil? How uncanny is both their mention of the dew, which lay so long of the grass this month, before silvering into frost.

When blessed Simeon took the Christ Child in his arms, he lifted up his face and cried: 



Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace; Because my eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared in the sight of every people: A light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel. Luke II: 29-32


There are so many ways to read, 'in the sight of every people', but when one contemplates the Gentile forerunners of the Messiah, one cannot help but think that here the priest was at least in part acknowledging the universal preparation the world had received for the coming of its Saviour.


Such a catholic expectation in the world is for many proof of this anticipation's validity. Yet, the objection of the naysayer assails this bastion as it does all others. The gauntlet hurled here is that the universal wish recorded of so many peoples was merely one of wishful thinking. The Messiah was just the name given by Hebrews to a man who would draw humanity from the miserable depths into which it had fallen, and the certainty that he would be in part a god was a necessary conjecture for the remedy of such a sad state. Concerning the details so eerily resembling the birth, life, and death of Jesus Christ, this pat dismissal is often proferred:


The Christ idea is older than the story of Jesus, and the latter was edited and re-edited until it incorporated all the features of the former and so met the requirements of the age. 



Now such an assertion carries the burden of proof, but the creativity of modern historians does not often never restrict its assertions to those based on positive evidence when it may opine scenarios that confirm the bias of the thinker. As to believers, it is not the inclination of a lover to merely ignore accusations hurled against the beloved, but to eviscerate them. And a true member of Christ's Church is--first and last--His lover.


The first kink in Carus's armour in particular is his inconsistency. On the one hand, he says that the true story of Christ (to which he is somehow privy) has been schewed. Yet, earlier in his work, he not only objected to Christian appropriation of pagan Messianic prophecies, but Judaic ones as well with the claim: 'The Christian interpretation has been superimposed and does violence to the message.' (ibid., 1) Which has been altered then? The prophecy or the fulfillment? On the one hand, the scholar finds the Gospel revelations of Christ's life compelling enough to uphold the catholic Messiah's mantle, and on the other hand he doesn't. 


However, the above point is merely a barb slung against this work in particular, and not the larger argument. Any skeptic may choose one position (violence has been done to the prophecies in applying the Gospels) or the other (violence has been done to the Gospels in applying them to the prophecies) and remain internally consistent.

Carus's first real argument is that rampant warring and weak economies were spread far enough over the ancient world to create a universal longing for a strong leader to save mankind from himself. No inspiration from the Holy Spirit would be required to instill such a wish in the hearts of man. Certain aspects of this Saviour, e.g., that he be divine in some way or even subjected to adversity follow reasonably enough from that. Thus, these aspects of Virgil's Fourth Eclogue, the Sybil's prophecy, or the many fore-tellings of the Old Testament are not sufficient to convince one of their credibility or even to link them to the tale of Jesus Christ.


A fellow student of mine once said in school that if he were to prophesy and give as a token to the people the following sign for his veracity: 'Tomorrow the sun shall rise!' then even the most gullible zealot would lift an eyebrow. For a cult to spring from the seed of prophecy, there must be some sign to indicate that it has been fulfilled. For a cult to achieve the immense success accorded to the might Roman Catholic Church, this sign or signs must have been above reproach in the eyes of many--fierce and dynamic and able to possess the hearts of the fierce and dynamic.


Yet, Carus (and many with him) contest that the Faith which brought forth all the martyrs, crusaders, poets, thinkers, and artists who have etched the mark of Christ into the face of the world forever, need not have come from a very earth-shattering force. This Church was going to happen at that particular phase in history, and it need not have been a Christian one:


Christianity, or a religion such as Christianity, would have originated even if Jesus had never existed...in all essentials, in doctrine as well as in moral ideas, we would have had the same religion. (27)


The ability of a modern to thinker to form such bold projections is staggering. By what rational means could anyone justify saying that the church founded by a Buddha or a 'Brahman Avatar' or a madman from Mecca would be exactly the same in its identity, even down to its moral code? Where is the positive proof of this? Alas, Carus has shown himself again to be rather creative, but not exactly reasonable.


So having erected chimerical, alternate Vaticans alongside the real one, using nothing but the sand of conjecture and imagination, Carus proceeds to dismiss the evidence he does have: human nature and the testimony of the first Christians.

He posits that Jesus of Nazareth was honoured with the laurels of the Christ, where emperors and warriors failed miserably, because he appealed to the sick in His poor life and death, as well as to fanatics like Saul of Tarsus. Human nature would take issue with the first point. The downtrodden do not habitually idolize their fellow downtrodden members simply for sharing their lot. They  either pity them or take advantage of them. Nor do the oppressed do not fall in line with revolutionaries until they are desperate, and if their revolution fails, with the leaders hung ignominiously on gibbets, the effect would be disillusionment, not encouragement.


It would be surprising then that a man who merely comforted the sick and the weak with words should become the leader of the religion 'of women and slaves' unless He had worked miracles amongst them, had indeed cured the blind, sick and, lame brought unto Him. Do Carus, et al., submit that this is a later appendage to the Gospels? How on earth could Jesus Christ have gained enough prominence to be considered for the Messianic role without these signs?


As to the manipulation of zealots who seized upon Christ's story, the moderns here must here accuse them of being deliberately disingenuous. Carus attempts to dismiss without defaming St. Paul in saying that he was honestly self-deluded:


Paul's converion consisted simply in the idea that came upon him like a flash of lightning, that all of his conceptions of Christ could be applied to Jesus, that the majesty of his divine nature was well set forth in his deepest humiliation, his death on the cross... (25)


Carus is ungenerous to St. Luke, in completely dismissing not only the miracle of St. Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus, but also the evangelist's account of St. Paul's beliefs and characters before his conversion, namely that he had persecuted the faithful, and had even held the coats of St. Stephen's murderers.


Secondly, Carus does great injustice to St. Paul's own account of how he came to believe and to the rationality of every Christian alive. While we have come to adore and even to be sentimental about the kenosis of the Christ--His low birth and dolorous passion--we have not forgotten that it is a paradox:

But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews indeed a stumbling block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness: But unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. 


   ...O God, the believing and faithless alike shall behold You
   Uplifted with saints, when at last the ages are ended...
   

At least I hope I speak that truthfully. When we were children studying the history of vile deeds, I know we all asked ourselves how common, ordinary people no different from us in essentials, did--without dissent--deeds that most individuals would never contemplate for a moment. Genocide, rape, enslavement, apostasy. 

One of the most chilling moments in the film Beyond the Gates, a vivid recounting of the atrocity of Rwanda, is when the English teacher at a religious school sees one of his Hutu friends after the blood bath has begun. He has known this man for some time; this person even worked for the church to which the school is connected. When the Englishman sees him again after the ethnic cleansing has begun, the man is covered with blood and wielding a machete. Even with the grace of the sacraments, he turned to unspeakable evil.

Will most always be united with grace. While God must always reach out for us, while we can do nothing of ourselves, we must choose to wake when He calls.  A sort of spiritual drowsiness, a deliberate blindness, a surrender of one's reason and volition to a stronger agent is the only thing that can account for the Satanic manipulation of whole peoples. It is strange how often we choke on the submission due to God, yet we render it unto Lucifer quite readily. And all because he presents the act in the form of a bargain, and man thinks he retains his dignity merely because he got something for his soul.

Degenerate evil is fast becoming the theme of our day, and the call for a rescue against our bellicose animosity towards one another has become the anthem even of those who do not believe:




We must be awake! It is hard, especially in this epoch of multitudinous distractions, and even the five wise virgins of the parable dozed while waiting for the Bridegroom. We have drifted off ourselves, but now we must right our course.


The first step of waking is to open our eyes. Every one has talked with that friend who said, 'Of course, I'm listening to you...I'm just resting my eyes.' Indeed. She was soon napping after saying that. When we wake in the morning we open our eyes and draw the curtains immediately, letting the sun's light dispel our bodily lethargy. Well, what is the light of the soul? 


Wisdom is the universal answer, but who is she? And why has her patronage not protected many purportedly wise men from committing diabolical acts? A brilliant musical scholar, Molly Gustin (who strove to show how right reason was wed with good music), was once explaining why the worst music was always made by the educated man. Only scholars produced atonal abominations after all. She said that their education, willfully twisted, had snuffed out the light of truth that a folk musician or even a rocker still retains in his natural state: 'You have to go the university and became an intellectual in order to be perverted.' she gleefully teased her students.


So both the simple brute and the erudite ninny may be drowsing in moral torpitude. Then who is Wisdom, and where may we find her? How can we obtain her when she is found?


Well, the man who has truly awakened himself in mind, heart, and soul, will first say that wisdom cannot be obtained. Remember the ancient image of Wisdom as Athena. She is an armoured woman, and she would skewer any mortal that dared to make her his slave. You bear her yoke; she does not bear yours. The Renaissance made man 'the measure of all things', and until that error is unlearned, we cannot even hope to begin the journey to the light.

And in the multitude of the elect she shall have praise, and among the blessed she shall be blessed, saying: I came out of the mouth of the most High, the firstborn before all creatures: I made that in the heavens there should rise light that never faileth, and as a cloud I covered all the earth: I dwelt in the highest places, and my throne is in a pillar of a cloud. I alone have compassed the circuit of heaven, and have penetrated into the bottom of the deep, and have walked in the waves of the sea, And have stood in all the earth: and in every people, And in every nation I have had the chief rule: And by my power I have trodden under my feet the hearts of all the high and low: and in all these I sought rest, and I shall abide in the inheritance of the Lord. (Ecclesiasticus XXIV:4-11)


Humility is the prequisite condition for receiving wisdom. Without it, we may gain knowledge, but will not otherwise profit from any study. For proud creatures, such as fallen human beings, humility has always been hard, but at least it was properly held as a virtue in many creeds and cultures of the past. The postmodern First World however has thoroughly rejected meekness in all its forms, particularly where it concerns feminine-like submission.


The idea of femininity in a position of governance is a concept not to be countenanced by the movers of our times, be they men or women. 'Feminists' did the world a great injustice in choosing to agree with the apostatized West that femininity was of no value and that it was only in imitating man, woman could achieve real worth.


The Catholic neurologist and psychiatrist, Karl Stern, explained the problem thus:


The problem of activism--a lack of balance between action and contemplation--is said to be characteristic of our time...Now whenever we psychiatrists have an opportunity to observe this kind of person as a patient, we find at the bottom of it all a maternal conflict and a rejection of the feminine. (Stern, The Flight from Woman, Chapter I: Introduction)


A 'maternal' conflict. And what is the maternal conflict of our age? Whose motherly voice have we refused to hear? What enlightenment have we refused from fair Wisdom?


Either one believes in a thing, or one does not, so rather than attempting to set the supports for a bridge in the abyss, I shall try to leap it. 


It has been ninety-four years now today that we, both the low and the high of humanity, have chosen to ignore the requests of the Lady of Fatima. That non-Catholics have done so is understandable (even with the well-documented miracle that occurred in Cova de Iria, Portugal on this day in 1917). But that Churchmen and the faithful have done so? Granted, one is not obliged to believe in private revelation. One is also not obliged to exercise his body, illumine his mind, or love from the heart in order to stay alive, but such lack of exertion is generally frowned upon by mankind in general.

So what is one to say of the actions of the Vicar of Christ in 1960 in refusing the request of Fatima? Well, nothing in fact. It is impossible to pronounce on the plans of the Lord's anointed, for there is no way of knowing what instruction he might have received from the Holy Spirit. We have never sat in the Chair of Peter. Yet, as we are meant to pray for the Pontiff, we must be alert in some way to what duties he may have to perform. It is necessary for us to know when to double our mortifications for his sake, to know when the lone, white-robbed figure most earnestly needs our prayers to strengthen his fortitude. In that sense, while we may draw no conclusions, we must to some extent ruminate about the duties of a pontificate.


Now in 1962, a certain spirit was about to be unleashed upon the world from the Roman Catholic Church, and we have come to call it the 'Spirit of Vatican II.' When someone finds the good fruits of that spirit, they must write of it. Until then, the faithful will suffer from its effects (whether consciously or no), and those outside the Faith will see it as a sign of the Church's eventual collapse. 


Papa Roncalli of course did not envision such an effect from his Council. Father Malachi Martin, in spite of what that priest's detractors have said, believed completely in Pope John XXIII's good intentions and wrote this of the kindly pope:


...May...during the second session of the Council. By then, Pope John knew that the Council was out of his control; his agenda for a deep renewal of activist faith in the Church had been set on a course the Pontiff had not foreseen, and it would serve someone else's agenda instead. And he also knew that he would have no time to alter that fact. One June 3, Angelo Roncalli died in his faith and his regrets. (The Keys of This Blood, Book II: The Geopolitics of Faith, Chapter XXX: Papal Training Ground: Under the Sign of Solidarność)

One particular regret may have reached as far back as 1960, when the behest of Our Lady, penned by the hand of a nun who had been a simple shepherdess, was refused by His Holiness. Whether that is true, it must have struck the Pope as very strange with the Polish Primate, Stefan Wyszyński, later approached him with a request bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Madonna's in the very midst of the Second Vatican Council.

Mainly...Wyszyński wanted to urge upon Pope John that he dedicate the Council, the bishops of the Church, and the laity of the world, whose servants they were, to the same bond of servitude to Mary that the Cardinal was preparing in Poland...

...it was nonetheless widely known by now that Mary had called for dedication of more or less the same kind Wyszyński was urging on Papa Roncalli; and that she had apparently done so for more or less the same georeligious and geopolitical reasons that had motivated Wyszyński.

...Roncalli listened with indulgence and interest...and admitted that if he had heard Wyszyński out before he had made and implemented his decision, he might have acted differently. But his attitude to Wyszyński's urgings was the same as it had been when he had first read the secret instructions of Fatima in 1960...was that this time ''our time as Pope'' was not the time for such an act of dedication. Had the Cardinal been privy to the full contents of the ''three Fatima secrets," he might have wondered if there would be another time. (ibid.)

The heads of great men have of late not steered the barque of the world very well. Perhaps, it is time the Immaculate Heart of the Woman Clothed with the Sun took the helm, and we might begin to cede control to her in honouring this day and the bidding connected with it: pray the rosary.

It is finished. I dropped the form into the plain white box on the card table in the vestibule. My fingers are stained green from the leak in my fountain pen. I had wanted the writing on the form to be beautiful, even though the paper itself was a sheet of recycled paper, lined with a plain graph and stamped with simple, black print. My letters were fine and delicate though, and the '25' I had traced satisfied me. I hope the spiritual bouquet will be more comely in its final presentation to the Pope. For today ends the rosary crusade for which Bishop Fellay called in an effort to persuade Pope Benedict XVI to consecrate Russia to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

I am not bound to the chapel of the Society of St. Pius X. My nature is such that it dare not oppose so strongly the established patriarchs, past or present; however logic may try to justify it. While I do not know if this is a craven mistrust of my reason, or rightful submission to the Vicar anointed by the Holy Spirit, I shall not submit to this movement until they have unambiguously submitted to Peter’s Successor. In the meanwhile, I do not scruple at visiting their chapel to say the rosary in Latin with their community.

His Excellency, Fellay, has twice presented a spiritual bouquet to the Holy Father. With each, a flurry of grace showered on the Earth, whiter than cherry blossoms and more numerous than rain drops. Another spray of prayers is to be given the Pontiff now. This one begs that Gloria Olivae honour a request that has yet to be fulfilled.

Pastor et Nauta said: ‘It is not for our times.’ Flos Florum also did not address it, nor was this done by De Labore Solis, unless one finds satisfaction with the 13th of May, 1982. Perhaps it is true that Pope John Paul II fulfilled the wishes of Our Lady expressed at Fatima adequately. Yet, when has adequate been enough for a queen?

Sister Lucia was understandably bound hand and foot as to what she could say concerning Fatima, and her official commentary concerning the Pope's consecration of the entire world to the Immaculate Heart of Mary is ambiguous enough to cast doubt on whether the request has been fulfilled. If one can trust the three men who interviewed her later (the Lisbon Nuncia, Dr. Lacerda, and Father Messias), then her final pronouncement is thus:The consecration of Russia has not been made as Our Lady has demanded. I could not say so because I did not have the permission of the Holy See. (http://www.fatimacrusader.com/cr16/cr16pg22.asp)

In the misty realm of private revelation (which constitutes any supernatural message given after the death of the last apostle), no Catholic is held to believe anything. Once visions have been examined and acquitted by Holy Mother Church, a soul is free to embrace them, though it is still not required. But one should give pause before dismissing these post-Patmos visitations. Remember that we are also not ‘required’ to say a daily rosary, read the Scripture daily, attend Mass more often than Sundays and Holy Days of Obligations, or go to Confession more than once a year. Yet, how greatly it would promote the health of our souls to do more than the bare minimum!

If a patient were to ask his doctor: ‘Will I die if I don’t eat spinach?’ the medic would likely be flustered. ‘Well, it won’t kill you not to each spinach, but it’s very healthy and an excellent source of iron. Seeing as how you’re anaemic…’

‘Thank you, doctor. And are three cups of coffee a day likely to be lethal?’

‘Er, no, but it leeches calcium, depletes your iron, and may aggravate anxiety…’

‘Thank you, doctor! I now see no need to change my habits, and as I dislike spinach and love coffee, I'm greatly relieved.’

Ignoring the munificence of divine visitation is no sin, but it is also no wiser than living as dangerously as one can without actually risking death. Our Lady of Fatima came. She came in a time of great trial with messages of hope, words of warning, and prophecies—all of which have been vindicated by history (http://www.fatimacrusader.com/cr49/cr49ap2.asp).

If the king’s mother visited an impoverished village and showed it the way to a salt mine to revive its fortunes and prepare for coming depravation, and the villagers ignored her guidance—content to remain subject to their misfortune—what would the lord of this realm think of that hamlet? In times of famine, would they have any right to the stores of food prepared by more diligent hands? This is not to mention the anger he may feel that his mother was slighted in her efforts to help. Be he tyrant or no, why tempt the wrath of a king?

It is presumptuous to ask for a sign, yes, as St. Matthew has well related to us:

And there came to Him the Pharisees and Sadducees tempting: and they asked Him to shew them a sign from heaven. But He answered and said to them: When it is evening, you say, It will be fair weather, for the sky is red. And in the morning: Today there will be a storm, for the sky is red and lowering. You know then how to discern the face of the sky: and can you not know the signs of the times? A wicked and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign (Matthew 16: 1-4)

Reading carefully though, one will see that the Pharisees and Sadducees were not only reproached in asking for a sign, but in not seeing the signs already given them. ‘Can you not know the signs of the times?’

Well, one may say that as Our Lady of Fatima’s requests were not fulfilled, their time is past. It is now fitting to let them rest. However, the sins over which Our Lady admonished us have multiplied and worsened. Nations have grown more bellicose and capable of inflicting even more ruin on each other. Is not another World War imminent? Or if not war, are we not on the verge of economic ruin?

‘But Our Lady of Fatima’s particular request concerning Russia is no longer pertinent. Communism has fallen, and while it is a superpower, it is not the only nation with that title.’

This is true, but it may be that Russia’s consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary may benefit the world now more than ever before. Pious as the hagiography of the Orthodox Churches is, they dare to say that the Madonna was not immaculately conceived. That the Womb, the Tabernacle of the Most High, was rotten with Adam's sin! Were they to make the concession of her purity, would that not magnificently propel reconciliation between the Roman Catholic Church and the East?

There is also an argument politically. Throughout history there have occasionally arisen men of destiny. Like the Judges of Israel, they were not always virtuous, but they were the men chosen by God to dominate the affairs of this world. They were called messiahs—the anointed ones—and even in the Old Testament, they weren’t always Jews:

Thus saith the Lord to My anointed Cyrus, whose right hand I have taken hold of, to subdue nations before his face, and to turn the backs of kings, and to open the doors before him, and the gates shall not be shut. (Isaias 45: 1)

As a daughter of the Church, I believe the Messiah has come, and that He dwells in every licitly established tabernacle on this Earth. Yet, it is not the wont of a Catholic to tear at the veil of mystery, or to engrave in stone what God has not written. He is not limited by what He decrees, and if He chooses to decree again, outside the realm of prophecy, He may.

There may yet be men He anoints for a mighty destiny on this Earth; there may yet be messiahs to come in the realm of temporal affairs. And of all the world leaders today, who is the only one that calls on the name of God? who has wrested power from the oligarchs of his nation? whom his people follow with adulation and confidence? I can name but one man: Władimir Władimirowicz Putin. Whether a messiah or not, he is a man I would wish to see displaying the standard of Our Lady.

On the 13th of October 1917 at 1:30 p.m., the sun whirled wildly about in the sky above those at Fatima, imbuing the area with every colourful shade that is found in light, healing them of their infirmities, and so converting many. Signs from Heaven are not to be sought, but God is generous and dotes on us with divine munificence. What might we see if Our Lady’s requests are to be fulfilled? I have given a mere 275 rosaries towards that end, but in union with a much greater crowd of intensely faithful souls. Will we number the twelve million, Marian psalters that Bishop Fellay wishes to present to His Holiness? Pray God that we do!