Still Here

Posted on July 8, 2011 by Fr. Angelo M. Geiger

Absorbed in my thoughts on the occult/Harry Potter book, I have not even thought about posting here recently. I did take a break a month ago to write an article for Inside the Vatican on the Theology of the Body. It was published in the June-July issue under the title “The Pagan Temptation” (39-41). I am grateful for the opportunity.

Here is a short excerpt that touches upon a topic which will be addressed at length in my book:

If the imagination is the place where illustrative analogies must be devised for the sake of apologetics and evangelization, and if it is also the place where the mythological and magical way of thinking reorganizes images for the purposes of mystical experience and psychic control over nature, then we should be careful not to confuse these two functions. Avoiding such confusion might prove to be particularly difficult if the matter at hand involves erotic images, because the imagination is also the place where we are particularly vulnerable to the demonic.

I will not be writing much about the issue of chastity in the book. However, the imagination and its role in both evangelization and its abuse through the occult will be a major theme.

Please pray that I can successfully bring this book to a conclusion. Thanks.

I will leave you with another article I wrote recently for our international magazine.

Our Lady’s Presence in Blessed John Paul II

I too wish to begin my reflection on the role of Mary in the mystery of Christ and on her active and exemplary presence in the life of the Church.

–Blessed Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater

In this way the new blessed of the Church, Pope John Paul II, describes the subject of his great Marian Encyclical in its opening section. Mary, he writes, has a role “in the mystery of Christ,” and She has a presence within the Church that is “active and exemplary.” In stating this, he is echoing St. Paul in the Letter to the Galatians where the Apostle writes of the fullness of time in which God sent for the his Son, born of a woman, so that we might receive the adoption of sons (4:4-6). In his own Life Blessed Pope John Paul II showed that what he wrote about the Blessed Mother’s presence in the Church he also experienced personally.

Marian Mediation and Presence

In Catholic tradition this relationship of Mary with the Church has been called Her universal mediation of graces, though today in many Catholic circles the use of this language had come to be considered unfashionable and “unecumenical.” In reality, the terminology is entirely consistent with scripture, because God did send His son through the mediation of a woman, as St. Paul says. Jesus became a member of our family through Mary, so that we might become members of His family through Mary.

St. Paul’s statement puts Mary between God and our adoptive sonship. That is what we mean by Marian mediation. In fact, in the encyclical letter, Blessed John Paul II expressly states: “She puts herself ‘in the middle,’ that is to say she acts as a mediatrix not as an outsider, but in her position as mother” (21).

The great pope of this Marian age, not only made it fashionable to speak about Marian mediation again, he gave our understanding of this role of Our Lady his characteristic personalist touch. He calls it Her “active and exemplary presence in the life of the Church.” Just as he says “she puts herself ‘in the middle’ . . . in her position as mother,” so he indicates that this middle position is a kind of “active and exemplary presence.” Our Mother is with us and She acts from within and with power.

Mary’s mediation of graces is described by some theologians as functioning in a physical way, which is simply to say that it produces its effect by means of a kind of power. Blessed Pope John Paul does not contradict this, but rather emphasizes that this power does not simply pass through Our Lady as though She was a conduit of spiritual energy, as it were, but her mediation is a function of Her spiritual motherhood by which She deeply and personally helps to constitute, maintain and augment a filial relationship between us and God, our Father. Grace is the life of God and Mary is mother in the order of grace. She is present in our lives in an “active and exemplary” way.

Active Presence

Mary’s active presence in the Church means precisely that She is more than a channel. In the encyclical, Blessed John Paul really makes this very clear by using words in Latin to express the fact that Mary’s presence is deep and dynamic. For example, “active” presence is designated by the word actuosa rather than activa, which indicates that the presence is not a matter so much of physical action, but of “a really deep, personal” kind of communion. Incidentally, when today when the Church encourages “active participation” in the liturgy, the word used is actuosa (Ratzinger Report, 127), indicating that we should enter deeply and consciously into the mystery of the liturgical rite. Mary enters deeply and personally into the lives of Her children.

Elsewhere in the encyclical, when Blessed John Paul writes about Our Lady’s presence he uses words that indicate a dynamic presence. For instance, seven times he uses a form of the phrase praesens adest (translated “is present”) in which the adest bears the nuance of “to be toward by way of action.” He writes that Mary, “in a discreet yet direct and effective way” made the mystery of Christ present to humanity. This direct and efficacious mediation of Christ’s presence by Mary, the Holy Father tells us, continues to this day. “Through the mystery of Christ, she too is present within mankind” (19). He also writes that Mary is present “in the history of souls,” that is, through the interior pilgrimage of faith, which is both personal and immediate (25).

Exemplary Presence

Mary’s exemplary presence in the Church means that Mary is both the model and mother of the Church. Blessed John Paul writes (again, using the verb praesens adhest) that Mary is a “permanent model” (perenne exemplar) or “figure” (typus) of the Church and that She, “present in the mystery of Christ, remains constantly present also in the mystery of the Church” (42). Later on he says that to call Mary model and figure of the Church is not sufficient but instead relates Her role of model to Her motherhood of the Church (47). And in a general audience of August 6, 1997, he clarified that by calling Mary type of the Church he was not referring to Her as an “imperfect prefiguration,” but as an “example of perfection to be followed and imitated” (3,4). In other words, Mary is present to each of us as a living example who acts personally and deep within in us as a true mother.

We can say, then that the active and exemplary presence of Our Lady in the mystery of the Church, is a real, deep, immediate, personal and active involvement of Our Lady in the life of Our soul, where She imprints Her own thoughts, dispositions and virtues as Model and Mother and Mediatrix.

The Presence of Blessed John Paul II

In his homily for the beatification of John Paul II, Pope Benedict XVI commented on the “theological vision” of the new blessed which he discovered as a young man and nurtured throughout his life. Blessed John Paul contemplated Our Lady’s presence at the foot of the Cross next to Jesus. This is what he meant to signify when he chose for his papal coat-of-arms, an “M” to the lower right of a cross, with the inscription, Totus Tuus, taken from the words of St. Louis Grignon de Montort, meaning “I belong entirely to you.” In the homily Pope Benedict said:

Mary does not appear in the accounts of Christ’s resurrection, yet hers is, as it were, a continual, hidden presence: she is the Mother to whom Jesus entrusted each of his disciples and the entire community. In particular we can see how Saint John and Saint Luke record the powerful, maternal presence of Mary in the passages preceding those read in today’s Gospel and first reading. In the account of Jesus’ death, Mary appears at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25), and at the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles she is seen in the midst of the disciples gathered in prayer in the Upper Room (Acts 1:14) [emphasize mine].

In this great new hero of the Church, we are blessed with his celestial presence, as we miss his earthly one, and we pray that we might have his vision of Our Lady, so that we might truly know how deeply and actively She is present within the Church and within our own souls. This great Marian pope, has taught us the full truth about Mary and has lived that teaching in an extraordinary way. He acknowledged Her presence in his own mission and especially in his extraordinary suffering, and he invoked her presence on the Church and on each individual soul. May our own deep and personal participation in the presence of Mary lead us along the same path is this great Marian apostle. Blessed Pope John Paul II, pray for us.

Lumen Christi

Posted on April 22, 2011 by Fr. Angelo M. Geiger

Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is He that cometh in the Name of the Lord.
O King of Israel:
Hosanna in the Highest! (Antiphon, Palm Sunday, cf. Mt 21:9;).

Hypocrites, well hath Isaias prophesied of you, saying: This people honoureth me with their lips: but their heart is far from me (Mt 15:7).

The sacred liturgy offers us an opportunity, in this most holy of weeks, to enter into the history of our Lord’s suffering, death and resurrection. Our presence at the Sacred Triduum is a proclamation of our faith in that the Christ of History and the Christ of Faith are one and the same. Some scripture scholars have the tendency to demythologize the gospel accounts, and, inversely, some commentators on the liturgy have the tendency to mythologize the Easter liturgy. In fact, the gospels are historical and the liturgy brings us into contact with that sacred and sacramental history.

Christopher West, as I have mentioned many times before, has tended to sexualize the liturgy. Most recently, he reposted his Easter commentary on St. Augustine’s reference to the Cross as a marriage bed. Of course, the patristic analogy is fine. It is the agenda with which I have a problem. Inevitably liturgical eroticism connects Holy Sacrifice of the Mass with Hieros Gamos, which is Jungian and best and Wiccan at worst. It is where myth meets alchemy and shamanism.

Gnostics, liturgical wreckers and liturgical reformers alike have treated the liturgy like magic: “Just do it like this and everything will get better.” “Change it” or “Don’t you dare change it,” has only served to confirm, however wrongly, what our enemies have said all along, that the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is hocus pocus.

Our liturgy is not a gnostic play, an allegorical wedding that symbolizes human life on a psychological, or on some universally valid “spiritual” or “mystical” level. Our mysticism, our mystagogy is based on real history, otherwise we are of all men most miserable. (1 Cor 15:19).

The Sacraments are neither magic nor mythology. Alchemy is a lousy metaphor for Christian transformation, but it is a good metaphor the reduction of spirituality to human manipulation. A “chymical wedding” is paradise calculated, prognosticated and resolved upon, and left unrealized.

Some of the liturgical magicians look to the Easter liturgy for an occult answer to even the misery of impurity. Liturgical eroticism is not the answer because sensuality and the imagination gives too free access to demonic. The Angelic Doctor made distinctions. The Demonic Doctor makes an infinite amount of distinctions. His eros is never the impure kind: “The lumen Christi takes care of that. Just think sublimely, mystically. Spiritual marriage is never impure.” In fact, the Sacraments lead to bliss only by a harder road: the one Jesus took.

But Catholics should not be Roman Missal thumpers either, who think humanity’s problems will be solved simply by the black and red of missal older than 1962. The Sacred Liturgy is not a wand to be waved over the post-conciliar Church, but a mystery to be assimilated. The Tree of Life has not been transplanted from paradise. The old tree points to the new, and the new is a bridal bed of pain. Why should the liturgy not be painful? We can be like teenagers who don’t like going to Mass because we don’t get anything out of it.

The Sacred Liturgy is not an academic exercise any more than it is mythological drama. The unity of the Church depends in a very great part upon the liturgy, and the average Catholic has a real life to live. He is not a monk. He is not a scholar, liturgist or controversialist. He just wants to go to Mass. He has no agenda, and He probably is not visionary in his outlook. He is just trying to make it through the week. He needs to identify with Christ, not with the brocade on a dalmatic.

True mysticism passes by way of real, practical and concrete ascetism that bears down upon the will. The saint is not an austere superman, but one who has broken his stubborn and incalcitrant will. There is a big difference. Liturgical precision and reverence should be a given. Respect for tradition and an understanding that neither antiquarianism nor novelty are valid principles in liturgical reform must be presumed. But the fastidious and academic preoccupation, the pained observations of everything than does not conform with the ideal resolved upon, is a sign of a will that is very much like that of the liturgical innovator. Lest this assessment itself becomes excessively academic, I should just summarize by saying our hope should be that the liturgy break the selfish will.

Holy Week is the Way of the Cross and it is a hard road. It resists euphemisms and cannot tolerate self-serving stupidity and effeminate mystagogery. Our passion play is reality. “Hosanna in the highest!” and “Crucify him!” come out of the same mouths. It is supreme irony that we solemnize our fickleness, the fact that our piety so often misses the point. It is a harsh reality we need to face:

I have given my body to the strikers, and my cheeks to them that plucked them: I have not turned away my face from them that rebuked me, and spit upon me. The Lord God is my helper, therefore am I not confounded: therefore have I set my face as a most hard rock, and I know that I shall not be confounded (Isaias 50:6-7).

Our Lord was like a Lamb, silent before His sheerer (53:7). Our face is set like flint when our mouths are closed and our hearts are open. Christ is our High Priest and Victim, not a magician. The grace is there for us even in the demystified, lowly Novus Ordo. We should stop deflecting our attention from the real problem by indulging a magical way of thinking and set our face like flint against our selfish will.

A new commandment I give to unto you:
That you love one another,
As I have loved you,
Saith the Lord. (Antiphon, Holy Thursday, Mass of the Last Supper, cf. Jn 13:34).

Where charity and love are, there is God (Antiphon, Ibid.).

The small band of apostles in the upper room was not a narrow sect united by an ideology or by a personality. Our Lord was neither. The Word of Truth that lived and breathed was the Incarnate Son of God.

He comes among us a one who serves: and He serves lepers. He bends down and washes our filthy feet. He kisses our sores.

He did it more truly in His passion in the Garden and on the Cross, but during the Last Supper He did it ceremonially as an example to His priests, and by way of them to the rest of us.

The ceremony is symbolic. There are much worse things than dirty feet. There is not one among us that is not a moral leper. If we think otherwise we will not leave the Sacred Triduum justified (cf. Lk 18:14).

We do not need to wait for others to get it. Those who go to the Novus Ordo Mass should not be presumed to be ignorant and backwards. This is such a huge presumption that reveals a profound ignorance of the reality of human perfection and defect. It is a calculation that is facile, narrow and conveniently isolated in spiritual fantasy. We have not gotten it yet if we are convinced the real problem is someone or something else.

We too easily write off those we do not understand, or who, in one way or another, do not measure up to our ideal, and yet this is one of the faults Our Lord most often corrected. He at with sinners and gave the Pharisees a hard time. There are silent sufferers who have been making daily communions since before the Second Vatican Council, and they are presumed to be backwards by the liturgical know-it-alls because they don’t understand and do not want a Latin Mass? One can be too pastoral it is true. But one can also be too academic.

Truth is objective. The Sacred Triduum and the liturgy in general enshrine real history—objective revelation and dogma. We need to fight for the truth, to be sure. Many are rightly wearied of the fatherless Church. The problem is that the Lion of the Tribe of Judah is also the Lamb that was slain. The objective truth is that our militancy must be Christ-like, even if the Church is a mess.

The ideal of the Christian Knight is the One seated on the White Horse, who is called Faithful and True, whose eyes are flames of fire, who wields a double-edged sword from his mouth and rules the nations with an iron rod (Apoc 19:11-15). Historical chivalry is a poor substitute for the paradox that is the redemptive Incarnation. The ideal was one thing, the reality another. Literary chivalry was never entirely Christian. It was laced with the same erotic Gnosticism that is repackaged today under the title of Theology of the Body (not a criticism of the soon to be Blessed Pope John Paul II, but rather of some of his self-proclaimed disciples). Military chivalry had the function, and still does, of making a bad situation less bad. The military vocation is a fine and noble calling, but try making a profession out of killing people, and then see how many of those who wield the sword remain knights in shining armor. This is not to denigrate the honorable service of our heroes, only to note that military honor is not an easy matter, especially when the ideal is Christ Himself.

This is why in the end, St. Francis, who had sought after nobility with such avidity, rejected status and power. He got off his horse and gave away his armor to a poor knight. And then he got off his horse again to kiss a leper. Christ the Knight is Christ the Leper: Surely he hath borne our infirmities and carried our sorrows: and we have thought him as it were a leper, and as one struck by God and afflicted (Isaias 53:4).

How many of us have experienced the paradox of a real Christ in our life, who loves in truth and speaks the truth in love? There is no magic wand for bringing all souls into the embrace of Holy Mother Church. The only problem with the Church is its members. And so, we lepers must remember that He says to us: as I have done to you, so you do also (Jn 13:15). There is no missal or grimoire that will make that happen. Sacramental life is a far more ascetical reality.

III

Behold the wood of the Cross, on which hung the Savior of the world (Good Friday, Adoration of the Cross).

O my people, what have I done to thee? Or wherein have I afflicted thee? Answer me. (Reproaches, Ibid.).

Public Scandal is a horrible thing. A sacrilegious communion piled on top has the makings of hell on earth. Advocacy for child murder and the re-crucifixion of Jesus in a sacrilegious communion is the “matter and form” of a potent curse. It has been pronounced over our country countless times. Piled onto to this is the even worse scandal and plague of the abuse of children by priests. St Christina the Astonishing is reported to have attended Holy Mass many times a day, and upon perceiving a priest in the state of sin approaching the altar, would levitate from the choir loft to the sanctuary and beat him back into the sacristy.

Good Friday is both a curse and a blessing. The Pharisees made a religious procession of their denial of Christ and consummated it with human sacrifice—indeed with deicide. It was a pagan execution orchestrated by Satan and given religious significance by the guardians of the law. He was made a curse for us (for it is written: cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree) that the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Christ Jesus: that we may receive the promise of the Spirit by faith (Gal 3:13-14).

How many of those who reviled the Lord on Good Friday had made themselves Satan’s puppets, his acolytes in the unholy rites of hell. But the foundations of the netherworld itself were rent asunder by the inversion of sin, crafted by our Savior. The curse became a blessing. The sign of death became the sacrament of life—the exorcism of the world, the regeneration of souls.

In Graham Greene’s novel The Heart of the Matter, the main character, Scobie, slowly but surely spirals into moral depravity, all the while experiencing remorse without true repentance. He eventually finds himself approaching the altar rail for Holy Communion in the state of sin because he is not prepared to deal with the deception in which he finds himself. Not having the heart to look up he sees only the skirt of the priest’s cassock “like the skirt of the medieval warhorse bearing down upon him: the flapping of feet: the charge of God. If only the archers would let fly from ambush . . .” But God does not intervene and Scobie receives the Eucharist sacrilegiously. He prays that his damnation will, through his offering, be the salvation of others.

In the light of this power, the great and small, the sinner and saint process down the aisle to eat and drink unto life or condemnation. We put our trust in the power, but we also sometimes presume on it, as though Christ will turn our indifferent Communions into grace. It is absurd to offer up our damnation. How awful it is that we can be so eager to deceive ourselves.

Our Lord at the altar does not discriminate. He remains silent under the form of bread and wine. We bring upon ourselves a blessing or a curse. He is the “hound of heaven” or the “warhorse bearing down.”

Public sacrilege is a curse upon the Church for which those responsible, and those responsible for allowing it to continue, will render an account. Woe to the world because of scandals. For it must needs be that scandals come: but nevertheless woe to that man by whom the scandal cometh (Mt 18:7).

But the dirty little secret is that the Church does not need pro-abortion politicians or pedophile priests to profane the house of God. The Lord has long suffered betrayal from his friends. St. Margaret Mary asked him why thorns surrounded His Sacred Heart. He replied: “My enemies put a crown of thorns around My head, and my friends have put a crown of thorns around My Heart.”

Reparation for sins committed against the Sacred and Eucharistic Heart of Jesus is particularly necessary for the outrage of sacrilegious Communions. On Good Friday the liturgical order is reduced to a state of desolation: a bare altar, and empty tabernacle, adoration of the Cross, communion without a consecration. We are desolate without Jesus.

The priest prostrates and begs forgiveness for his sins and those of the people. We own Good Friday. We own the desolation. It is what our sins deserve.

“For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.” We cry for mercy. The Precious Blood pleads on our behalf.

It is never a public scandal to refrain from Holy Communion. What is a scandal is cueing up for Holy Communion and neglecting the Sacrament of Penance. The door of mercy is always open. The Good Shepherd welcomes back the lost sheep.

The state of a person’s soul is between him or her and God. If someone refrains from receiving Holy Communion, cast your eyes down and keep your mouth shut—even if it is your own child. You don’t know what is going on and you don’t need to know. Let the Holy Spirit do his job and never allow yourself to facilitate a sacrilegious communion.

Christ yesterday and today,
The Beginning and the End, 
The Alpha and Omega, 
All times are His,
And all the ages.
To Him be glory and dominion,
Through all ages of eternity.
Amen (Easter Vigil, Blessing of the Paschal Candle).

May the Virtue of the Holy Ghost descend into all the water of this font,
And make the whole substance of this water fruitful for regeneration (Easter Vigil, Blessing of Baptismal Water).

The incorruptible flesh of Christ cannot be bound by death. The Virgin born escapes the tomb without breaking the seal. The Fathers of the Church speak of the incorruptible Virginity of Mary as unprecedented miracle of Divinity of Christ. The incorruption of the Resurrection is the unprecedented miracle of the Redemption: Incorruption is not the expected outcome of Good Friday, and it is for this reason that we experience a kind of bliss at Easter.

Some object to referring to the “incorruption” of virginity as though it implied that marriage and motherhood were something dirty. But that is to miss the point entirely. A woman is not corrupted by marriage, but her virginity is. And the virginal state is a value unto itself, both before marriage and especially when it is consecrated to God for life. Its joy is the inverse of what the world expects, or what the human mind may calculate.

Both motherhood and virginity are values, different and mutually exclusive values. Only in one case were both values realized, namely, in the person of the Blessed Virgin, but this includes the Church as well. Mary as archetype of the Church, and the Church, of which Mary is the preeminent member, are both Virgin and Mother. Neither Mary, nor the Church is impregnated. They conceive by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a miraculous power that shakes the foundations of the earth and changes history forever.

The Virgin Born who is also the First Born of the Dead breaks the incomprehensible blackness of sin, pride and calculation, “bravely burning to dispel the darkness of this night” (Easter Praeconium). Carried aloft, His truth brings about a conformation of our lives to His death, so that His life might overcome our death. This is power is beyond the will or manipulation of man. It is the cause of our joy.

Baptism is a virginal mystery, precisely because it belongs to the order of the Incarnation and Resurrection, precisely because, like the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection, it accomplishes a miracle of the first order. It makes a child of wrath a child of God. There can be nothing more fundamental to the origin of our relationship to God than our divine filiation. Baptism is the sacrament of regeneration. The fundamental metaphor is rebirth, not marriage, because this birth is not a function of marriage but of virginity.

Drawing a comparison between the Easter Vigil and pagan fertility rites is to prefer magic to sacrament. They are not the same. The unfortunate association of paganism with this Feast by means of “Pascha” having been englished “Easter,” only underscores the struggle between light and darkness, just as the Feast of All Saints becomes associated with the Druidic witchcraft and struggles, so to speak, to maintain its identity.

Magic is based on the presumed relationship between the macrocosm and the microcosm, between the larger world of cosmos and spirit and the little world of man. Sacred Marriage in the pagan tradition is power because by it man wills to align the psychic energy of ecstasy with the world spirits to produce some effect in the world or the soul.

Sex is not a sacrament, even if a non-consummated marriage can be, in certain cases, dissolved. It does not produce a sacramental effect. Sacraments are not based on an alignment of our psychic experience with God, but on the alignment of matter and form with intent to do with the Church intends in celebrating the sacraments. It is the will of God and His power, His infinite power that effects sacramental grace. It is a covenant, not a biological process or a psychic experience that accomplishes the sacramental transformation, because in Christ we are born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God (Jn 1:13). The efficacy of the sacraments would not be expected except that God has willed it so.

Christian marriage is not natural marriage. Grace builds on nature, but it also transcends it. There is no return to the Garden. Grace is supernature, not preternature. There is and will be no earthly paradise during our time of trial. Chastity is supernatural, an unexpected turn from the natural course of a fallen world.

During the Wedding Feast of the Lamb we find the Bridegroom on His White Horse, with fiery eyes and the sword of His word. The matrimonial ritual is a resistance to opposition, the casting down of the beast and the false prophet and the slaying of the enemies by the sword of him that sitteth upon the horse, which proceedeth out of his mouth (Apoc 19: 7-9, 11-15, 19-21). It is not exactly parallel to earthly experiences. Our experience points up and its meaning is informed by the mysteries we celebrate. But natural ecstatic experience elevated by knowledge, what Renaissance philosophers called “natural magic,” is not an experience of grace.

The power of Easter is entirely unexpected, not the function of a predetermined process. It is a turn of the tide, a “eucatastrophe,” as Tolkien has written:

it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief (On Fairy Stories).

The joy of Easter is tied precisely to its character of being unexpected. No one expects a virgin to become a mother. No one expects a crucified man to rise from the dead. No one expects one who deserves hell to be reborn into innocence. No one expects the fallen to be chaste.

The signs of the Knight of the White Horse and the Woman in Travail and Clothed with the Sun are the signs of the “high tide and the turn.” The passion of the Church is a night “thrice over us,” and sometimes the thunderclouds of vicissitude are like an “iron cope,” that shuts out the light of heaven. But Christ is yesterday and today, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and Omega.

He is the Light of the World, in a world that needs an illumination. At the Vigil the new fire and the light of the Paschal Candle will cause a visual illumination that corresponds to an enlightened regard for the meaning of Our Lord’s suffering and death.

We must choose death to see God. St. Bonaventure says: “My soul chooseth hanging, and my bones, death. He who loves this death can see God, for it is absolutely true that Man shall not see me and live.” We must pass through the Passion of the Church. We rightly say in liturgical language: “Say the black. Do the red.” But Catholic life cannot be reduced to rubricism or magic formulas. We must wait in patience for the “high tide and the turn,” the “wind of the ships and lightning of Lepanto.”

Lumen Christi. Deo Gratias.

Lost in the Archives

Posted on January 27, 2011 by Fr. Angelo M. Geiger

Well, not totally lost. I am just reading most of the time that I don’t have other duties to which I must attend. I hope to soon have a post on an interesting aspect of the occult pertaining to the difference between Christian mysticism and neopagan, magical consciousness. The attraction of “alternative religion,” is that it promises “supernatural” or transcendent consciousness, the experience of unity, integration and joy without dogma. It is a big temptation.

Please pray that I get this book on Harry Potter and the occult done soon.

I am uploading here a very cogent list of 10 non-religious reasons why same-sex marriage should not be legalized for your consideration. (I am not the author of the list. I neglected to mention this. The author is anonymous.) BTW, did you know that 85% of all abortions, according to Planned Parenthood research arm, the Guttmacher Institute, are obtained by unmarried women. My understanding is that the latest statistic has it up to 87%, but I have not been able to verify that. Either way, it is a tremendous statistic. The erosion of marriage is directly related to the incidence of abortion, and the elimination of children from the culture of marriage is obliterating the most fundamental social institution of our race. If we want to stop abortion we have to address the problem with marriage.

Heads in the Sand (Update)

Posted on January 10, 2011 by Fr. Angelo M. Geiger

The discovery of the shrine raises the possibility that Loughner, 22, may have been driven by other forces.

No kidding.

Watch the occult apologists come out of the woodwork to explain this away. I suppose this was his shrine to Sarah Palin. What I find most disturbing about the aftermath of the horrible act of murder and treason in Tuscon is the state of denial and the willingness to use the tragedy as a political football.

Update:

Plot Thickens

“He creeped me out,” she said. Morgan told CBS 5 News that Loughner asked her about the voices in his head. “He said to me, ‘Nobody likes my ideas about things. I hear voices and I knew you would be able to relate and not make fun of me.'”

Morgan claims to have the ability to speak with spirits of the deceased. “I told him what I do is different. I hear voices that are kind and loving. They pass along loving messages to their families who are still alive.”

Loughner, she said, was hearing voices telling him to take action. “I asked him, ‘Did you tell the health-care people that?’ He said, ‘No, they would put me in an institution.'”

Morgan said that as she was talking with Loughner, she got chills. “I saw him in an incarceration situation,” she said. “I remember exactly what I asked him, I said, ‘Have you been incarcerated? I see confinement. I see a jail cell.’”

To creep out a necromancer you must be pretty creepy. God have mercy on us.

Anne Rice Converts Back to Vampirism

Posted on July 30, 2010 by Fr. Angelo M. Geiger

“In the name of Christ, I refuse to be anti-gay. I refuse to be anti-feminist. I refuse to be anti-artificial birth control,” the author wrote Wednesday on her Facebook page. “In the name of … Christ, I quit Christianity and being Christian. Amen.”

Rice will not be taking up vampires again, but she said she is a big fan of the HBO series “True Blood,” enjoyed the first two “Twilight” movies (she has yet to read any of the Stephenie Meyer novels) and is interested in seeing her most famous character, the vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, return to the screen.

In spite of the above story’s emphasis on Rice’s non-return to vampire novels, Rice is, it seems, reverting to the back to the state of the undead. I have not read her novels, but apparently, her vampires are sometimes homosexual (Lestat de Lioncourt), they are feminist (The Queen of the Damned), and certainly they are wildly erotic. So when she says that she is leaving the Church because she refuses to stand against homosexuality, feminism and artificial birth control, she seems to be allaying herself once again with the world of vampirism. (Here is the Anchoress’ take on Rice’s muddling of what the Church stands for and against. The Church is not anti-anything. It certainly is not anti-gay persons or anti-woman or anti-sex.)

This is particularly significant for me as I research the topic of the occult and literature. The world of darkness is alive and well in the form of “new religious movements.” Many of them propose themselves to be compatible with Christianity. Rice goes on:

For those who care, and I understand if you don’t: Today I quit being a Christian. I’m out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being “Christian” or to being part of Christianity. It’s simply impossible for me to “belong” to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I’ve tried. I’ve failed. I’m an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else.

This is the real peril of literary and theatrical occultism: the promotion of esoteric, occultist, non-conformist Christianity. And that, my friends is blasphemous, sacrilegious and diabolical. Satan is pedaling cheap peace, and when we accept it on his terms, he will cut our hearts out.

Mary Victrix

Tag Archives: Occult