Agitated by movements from the deep, sometimes the surface of the earth is torn violently, provoking many tragedies and striking spirits. After the understandable emotions aroused by these geological disasters, scientists analyze them and, based on their knowledge of seismic laws, attempt to protect the populations at risk.
Dear Friends and Benefactors,
Agitated by movements from the deep, sometimes the surface of the earth is torn violently, provoking many tragedies and striking spirits. After the understandable emotions aroused by these geological disasters, scientists analyze them and, based on their knowledge of seismic laws, attempt to protect the populations at risk.
On the spiritual level, something similar happens. We can recite a long and deplorable litany of disasters: the loss of common sense, of the sense of the sacred, of traditional points of reference, the promulgation of iniquitous laws, the legal spoliation of personal property, the collapse of families, of societies and of the Church… The list is never-ending. But without the complementary study of the deep causes of all this, regret remains sterile and does not solve anything. Returning to the seismic comparison: it does not protect the populations.
The right knowledge of “spiritual geology” thus conditions the rebuilding of a true Catholic city. Which crack is the one threatens its most solid foundations? Without any doubt, the loss of the virtue of hope which, by a total loss of supernatural vision, leaves man in a cruel, closed, hardened world, without connection to God and eternity. A world in which the best a man can hope for is to gather as many pleasures as possible, and in which he must greedily gather whatever pleasures he can, since death – that cold and blind reaper – will come to take everything on some arbitrary and unpredictable date.
In this unrestrained (and unwinnable) race against death, man is inevitably plunged into trivialities and necessarily loses the sense of the sacred. He takes refuge in pleasures and in what is transitory, but this degrades and destroys him on the deepest levels. Victim of this break with the supernatural order, modern man loses the intelligence and nobility which were his, by God’s kindness. Original sin is thus perpetuated in its clearest form. As an easy and obvious example of this, we can cite the loss of the Sunday observance, which occurs initially insidiously and which thereafter, little by little, becomes firmly established.
Not so long ago, Catholics learned in their catechism that they were to sanctify the Sunday; but now, this term of “sanctification” is relegated to the background and replaced by that of “Sunday obligation.” This is not in itself false, because this obligation does indeed exist. But to sanctify the Sunday is not simply to be obliged to follow a limited code of regulations; it is, above all, to offer to God the homage of our respect, our time, our will and our intentions. The sanctification of the Sunday does not lie in the simple observance of a moral obligation: it makes possible the raising of our eyes above purely terrestrial realities, the remembering of our eternal vocation and the taking of a rest amidst the whirlwinds of life. It is a question of our being completely, totally abandoned into the hands of Christ and of His Father on this day which is a small daily resurrection, the resurrection of the soul. The religion of obligation is petrified; the religion of sanctification is that of charity, of the homage of the creature to the Creator. Sanctification certainly implies a part of obligation, but it invites man to live this day as a child of God, in the expectation that he will keep this spirit of worship throughout the whole week. Where is today the Christian who knows that the sins committed on Sunday, defiling what is sacred, are more serious than those committed on other days?
This semantic earthquake is very old, it does not go back to yesterday. It shows that the currents of destruction have been at work, in an underground way, for a long time. When the sanctification of the Sunday was reduced to be no more than a Sunday obligation, perhaps nobody reacted. However, it was a treason against God Himself. Was anyone sufficiently concerned about it?
Those underground currents were born in the Masonic lairs. Their perverse doctrines demolish society, corrupt morals and weaken character. They inspire and lead the decline of our society. It can appear these enemies of God go from victory to victory, growing ever-bolder with each apparent success. At least, that is what Free-masonry hopes for.
Should Catholic hope, founded on the promise of God, be less strong?
No earthquake can bring down a house whose foundations rest on God. Victory belongs to those who remain faithful to their first vocation, in spite of the misfortunes of the present times, giving to the world the serene testimony of their profound adoration and of their holy peace.
The coming combat is a combat of hope. The hope that Our Lord came to bring into this world when He sought “worshippers in spirit and truth” (Jn. 4:23).
In Christo sacerdote et Maria.
Fr. Yves le Roux