 + The Apostle Paul never fails to speak clearly. Not only does he speak clearly, he uses rhetoric with great force and strength. Each of his letters are filled with rich theology punched through powerful pastoral language. The epistle of this Holy Mass is a classic example. Vernacular translations, however, cannot capture the full force of his proclamation. The Apostle’s strength, nonetheless, is always delivered knowing the full reality of the situation he is addressing. His epistles fell upon attentive ears because his target was carefully chosen. Everything within the epistle’s first sentence is enclosed within the repeated concept of the Gospel which he has preached. And it all redounds back to the necessity of the Gospel being preached. All his missionary journeys are undertaken within this fundamental realisation: there can be no salvation without Jesus Christ. Yet he can’t finish his mission with the baptism of a region alone. The people there need reminding of the Gospel, of its divine origin. This is what he proclaims to us in this epistle. It is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which I have preached, which you have accepted, in which you live, which will save you, unlike anything else. Unless, he adds, you have believed in vain. That is to say that unless that we live our faith in charity, it is vain. Faith must always bear fruit and continue to be lived for life according to the strength God gives us. If the apostle is not clear enough concerning the exclusivity of salvation, how much more so is Our Lord? His own words are stark: “Wide is the gate to destruction, and there are many who go through it, the gate to life is narrow and the path straight, there are few who find it.” (Matthew 7:13-4) These words suggesting more are damned than saved are not isolated. History, however, is filled with those who deny these clear and revealed truths. Be it from a misguided philosophy about the nature of eternity, or a misunderstanding of God’s mercy. Any denial that hell is substantially populated is to call God a liar. Stark though such a picture may seem, we have great reason for hope. We have the Church as the arc of our salvation - a role she plays as the body of Christ spread throughout the world. We must live in Christ as a coheir and adoptive son of God. Each one of us, rather than living off ourselves, must allow Christ to live in us (cf. Galatians 2:20). This is the effect of the sacraments. This is what is undermined by each of our personal sins; and which is regained through sacramental confession. As Christ lives in us, our hope for salvation must be complete. To hope merely to scrape through to purgatory is to deny the work of Christ in oneself, claiming in contrast one’s own self-sufficiency. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, or even Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, could not live in Him through the sacraments. Does this not cut them off from salvation? No. Even these pagan philosophers who, although having no access to revelation and thereby objective means of grace, appear to have been given an extraordinary grace within the search for the truth. For the truth is Christ. It is thus that they, or rather God, prepared for the Gospel to be preached among the Greeks and thus to the whole world. That extraordinary grace which was probably granted to these pre-Christian figures is by no means impossible to God today, but without the formative and restorative grace of the sacraments, it can never be presumed. In a world which does not seek truth, truth is nearly impossible to find unless we are guided to it. There is no substitute, then, for apostolic clarity. +   + Facing the reality of ourselves is not easy. Behind the façade we present to the world, and even to family and close friends, there is much of which we are not proud and much that we would never wish to see the light of day. We are frail, weak and feeble. At times we choose what is wrong and willfully sin. There are aspects of our behaviour at times that we do not feel that we can control. And we are quite content to keep all of this well and truly hidden.
Yet Almighty God sees all. We may put up a pretence before all manner of people, but God, who created us and who knows us even better than we ourselves, cannot be fooled. He sees all and he knows all. This is the foundation of the classical teaching on “the fear of God”, which is not supposed to become paranoia or despair, but an ever-present awareness of the loving attention of God the Father. St Benedict teaches his monks that: “a man [should] keep the fear of God before his eyes, altogether shunning forgetfulness. Let him ever remember all the commandments of God and how hell will burn for their sins those that despise him; and let him constantly turn over in his heart the eternal life which is prepared for those that fear him. And guarding himself always from sins and vices, whether of thought, word, hand, foot or self-will, and checking also the desires of the flesh, let him consider that God is always beholding him from heaven, that his actions are everywhere visible to the eye of the Godhead, and are constantly being reported to God by the angels.” (Rule, ch. 7) Such an exhortation could lead one to become anxious or even obsessively fearful: there is no escape from the eye of God! And yet, let us consider this a little more closely. Yes, if we freely and knowingly reject God or God’s law in a serious matter, we risk the condemnation of hell—but not because God is an over-zealous policeman seeking to punish any and every crime with punctilious efficiency. No. We can only end up in hell if we obstinately turn from God and reject Him. Being condemned to hell is the person’s fault, not God’s. For God’s eye is the eye of a loving Father who takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but who desires only that the wicked person would turn from his ways and live. (cf. Ez. 33:11). So much so that, as the Gospel of St John teaches us: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.” (Jn 3:16-17) It is not often taught today that, as a matter of justice, sin must be made up for. It requires reparation: literally, the damage it causes must be repaired. Sin cannot be passed off as a human foible of no consequence. No, sin is a sub-human offense against God or God’s law, and that offense must be put right lest the state of estrangement from God that it brings about destroys our very humanity in this life and in the next. The Good News is, of course, that Our Lord Jesus Christ paid the price for all sin through His Sacrificial death on the Cross, making mercy and forgiveness not only possibilities, but realities that are at our disposition if only we will turn away from sin—if only we will convert—and seek new life in Christ. We are incapable of making up for the damage our sins have caused. Our Lord’s sacrifice, however, is of infinite merit if only we are prepared to pray with the publican of this morning’s Gospel: “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” We do not know much about the publican, but it seems that everyone else did—most especially the Pharisee. Was his public house a place of ill repute? Was he himself a dishonest businessman, a womaniser, a drunkard? Quite possibly. The Pharisee was guilty of no such sins, and yet it was the publican and not the Pharisee whom Our Lord says was justified in the sight of God, enjoying God’s mercy and forgiveness. Why? Because of his humility. Because the publican knew he was a sinner and did not presume to present himself as anything else. Here, my brothers and sisters, is the key. Yes, facing the reality of ourselves is not easy—at times it can be truly frightening, and we can feel utterly impotent in the face of the vices that have taken root in us. Yet with humility, with the acknowledgement of our sins, and the will to take the steps that are necessary to turn away from them—hard though that they may be—and with the will to persevere in pursuing the path of the conversion of our lives, God’s mercy and forgiveness are ours for the asking. So too is the grace to persevere in growing in virtue. We must do our part—and certainly, at times, that is not easy—so that God can do His work within us. He will not take us prisoner. His eye is that of a loving father who waits for us to turn to Him anew so that he can give us all that we need, and more. For the grace of humility and for the grace of the conversion of life—in ourselves and in the hearts of our family and friends—let us pray earnestly at this altar as we participate anew in Our Lord’s efficacious sacrifice for our sins in this Holy Mass. +  We give thanks to God for this year's onion and garlic harvest, now dried and stored for use in the coming months. "He is truly a monk when he lives by the work of his hands." (Rule of St Benedict, ch. 48) Nous rendons grâce à Dieu pour la récolte d'oignons et d'ail de cette année, désormais séchés et stockés pour être utilisés au cours des prochains mois. « Il est véritablement moine lorsqu'il vit du travail de ses propres mains. » (Règle de saint Benoît, chap. 48)   + Piety classically relates to participation in civic life. Even within the pagan culture, this always had liturgical aspects to it. It is not possible to be a part of a society without partaking of its rites. But it is by no means relegated to liturgy. Piety, in this ancient sense, includes everything that is expected of an honest citizen. As a Christian virtue piety naturally turned civic life towards the city of God. Whilst in more modern periods “the city of God” has come to be understood to refer entirely to heaven, yet for much of the life of Church it has referred just as much to the church on earth.
Our Lord demonstrates the multiple layers of piety in the Gospel perfectly. He laments the upcoming destruction of the city which has for so long been the centre, the capital of Israel - the city which houses the Temple of sacrifice before the One True God. Whilst that prefiguratory sacrifice would no longer hold validity after His Sacrifice on the Cross, the Temple could not lose its sacrality. Upon arriving in the Temple, moreover, He drives out the merchants and the money changers who are profiteering upon the simplicity of other people. More gravely still they are profiteering over those who are trying to carry out their offering to God as prescribed by the law of Moses. Whilst the Pharisees are concerning themselves over the zealots and other nationalists who are provoking the Romans towards the destruction of the city, Our Lord’s act indicates the real cause of the upcoming destruction of Jerusalem. Unquestionably the zealots played their part in the provocation, yet it is at the level of grace that the abuse of the simple faithful which aggravates the situation far more grievously. In His piety Our Lord turned not only to the defence of the Temple’s dignity, but also to the defence of justice. Injustice and idolatry had long been the cause of God’s vindication being wrought upon Israel under the form of enemy armies marching against them. Aside from his constant rebuking of the Pharisees’ hypocrisy, this relatively small act of driving the merchants out of the Temple was the most forthcoming that Our Lord could have been within the actual circumstances that He found Himself. In our day piety makes its requirements known to us more vigorously still. Still, we are faced with these same pharisees, puffed up with their own importance and filling their dossiers according to law where it suits them, yet having no thought for justice; for the contemporary poor and the widow with a simple faith seeking only to worship God, nor for the most hideous heresies and power plays that prevail which they, indirectly or the house of God, the city of God, to be collapsing before the threats that arrive from directly, support. Still, we have the zealots who exasperate matters in their misplaced zeal, risking a lack in generosity for neighbour (cf. RB chapter 72). Then we wonder, indeed weep, to see without. For all His accusations against the Pharisees, Our Lord recognised that they sit on the chair of Moses and must therefore be obeyed. But obedience can never constrain us to act contrary to faith and morals. Obedience does not, cannot, require that we permit them to put us to death on false or exaggerated charges (cf. Daniel 13). The zealots, by contrast, received limited rebuttal from Our Lord howsoever misguided they might have been. They were not imposing unjust burdens on the people trying to worship God in peace and in good faith. How then can we defend the dignity of the Church? In what manner are we to toss the tables of the money changers? To drive out the thieving merchants? We must hold fast to justice, to the fostering of the faithful in their noble and simple desire to worship God and work to His glory. Through our real and practical charity we must faithfully live the Gospel despite the enemies abounding from without and from within. We must work for the fulfilment of the missionary imperative given by Our Lord that is so often denied. Thus can we truly live the virtue of piety, fully participating in the life of the Church at every level required, each in proportion to the vocation that is ours. + Nous nous unissons dans la prière à toutes les personnes touchées par les incendies
ici dans le Var et dans le Sud-Ouest de la France, ainsi qu’à l’étranger – en particulier celles qui ont perdu leur maison et leurs moyens de subsistance – et nous exprimons notre profonde admiration aux pompiers, aux gendarmes et à toutes les autres autorités qui œuvrent sans relâche depuis près d’une semaine maintenant pour lutter contre ces incendies. Que Dieu les soutienne et les protège ! (Photos prises mardi dernier, montrant la fumée visible depuis le monastère.)  + Prescinding from the Gospel’s almost cynical praise of the dishonest steward—we know only too well how easily the children of the light can be duped and devoured by the children of this word—let us ponder a little some of the liturgical texts of this Eighth Sunday after Pentecost. All too often they pass us by, and yet Our Holy Mother the Church sings them year in and year out, contemplating ever more deeply the realities of which they sing. “In the midst of Your Temple, O God, we have received Your mercy; according to Your Name, O God, Your praise is sung to the ends of the earth; Your Right Hand is full of justice,” the Introit sings in the words of Psalm 47. Certainly, the Psalms are Old Testament songs, but we must not forget that sung in the Christian Liturgy (the Mass, the Divine Office and other rites) they have a clear Christological focus. Certainly, a devout Jew would have sung these words with the God of Israel in view, but after God became man and brought us the fulness of revelation it is impossible to limit their scope. Hence, for the Christian, these words sing of the mercy and grace each of us has received through the Temple that is the Resurrected Christ who lives and acts in His One True Church down to this day through the Sacred Liturgy and the Sacraments and other rites the liturgy celebrates. For Christianity is, as was Judaism before it, essentially a cultic faith. It is not primarily a set of ideas or beliefs held by individuals; rather, it is a way of living in an ecclesial (i.e. communal) relationship with God profoundly rooted in the public, ritual worship of the Holy Trinity—the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. That is to say that public worship is intrinsic to and literally the foundation of Christian life, not an optional upgrade to it that can be chosen (or declined) at will. Public worship is an essential component of Christian DNA, as it were. This goes a long way to explain why the form of that worship itself is also not a matter of arbitrary choice, and why its rites cannot be suddenly forbidden or disproportionately changed for something that is not in substantial continuity with that which has gone before. The Sacred Liturgy is the beating heart of the Christian life and mission, ensuring that grace is pumped efficiently to all parts of the Body of Christ. And, as any cardiologist will tell us, if the heart no longer functions as an efficient pump, parts of the body may quickly and seriously sicken with the danger of eventual death. We must be on our guard against liturgical anaemia or any cancerous disorders that eat away at the spirit and power of the Sacred Liturgy and thereby weaken or even poison our ability to live our vocation as a people called to worship the Triune God in all that we say and do. For, as the Church sings before the Gospel today, “Great is the Lord, and exceedingly to be praised in the city of our God, in his holy mountain.” And as she sings during the Communion procession in the beautiful words of Psalm 33: “Taste and see how sweet the Lord is; blessed is the man who places his trust in Him.” Again, sung in the light of the Incarnation and of the Resurrection, these psalms call us not to consent to an idea or to accept a philosophy, rather they call us to a particular way of living whereby the praise of God is always upon our lips (cf. Ps. 33:1) and where we continually turn to the sacraments, most particularly the Most Blessed Eucharist, for our spiritual nourishment. And the man or woman who does this is truly blessed—even as the vicissitudes of living in a world that moves further and further away from the Truth in its relentless if not demonic pursuit of secularism, relativism and a culture of death continue press down upon us in so many ways. Yes, the world has lost its way. Christendom is an historical memory and countries which were once proudly Catholic are now embarrassed to allow even the mention of God in public discourse, let alone to uphold even the most basic of rights—the right to life from conception until natural death. Amidst this cesspool of subjectivism, utilitarianism and opportunism, by virtue of our Baptism we are each called to take a stand: first and foremost here, together, before the Altar of God, at least on each and every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation, without exception or excuse (unless truly grave reasons that the Church recognises prevent us) in order to render unto Almighty God the worship that is His due and so as to receive from Him the graces we need to persevere in fruitful fidelity in the particular vocation He has given us. At the beginning of his Confessions, St Augustine prayed: “Thou movest us to delight in praising Thee; for Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find rest in Thee. Lord, teach me to know and understand which of these should be first, to call on Thee, or to praise Thee; and likewise, to know Thee, or to call upon Thee.” As we stand together before the Lord’s altar this morning in praise, thanksgiving and supplication, let us open our hearts to Him so that He may fill them anew, and let us not omit to pray for those whose hearts remain restless and empty, that they too shall come to taste and see how sweet the Lord indeed is. +  + “You will know them by their fruits,” Our Lord teaches in this morning’s Gospel. “A sound tree cannot bear evil fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit,” he insists.
In the past fortnight we have seen the cold, technocratic, and possibly even malicious—it is hard to find the right words—exclusion of one most fruitful trees in the garden of the Church. I speak, of course, of the recent (but highly questionable) declaration of the excommunication of the bishops, clergy and others of the Society of St Pius X. Whilst parishes and seminaries and religious houses have dwindled and closed worldwide in recent decades, this group have built and opened houses of formation and churches and chapels in every continent, and continue so to do. So much so that it is an undisputed fact that their ageing bishops needed help in sustaining the sacramental life of the faithful who turn to them. One may legitimately question whether or not the recent episcopal consecrations should have proceeded without the papal mandate—and in the leadup there certainly seems to have been intransigence on both sides—but it remains a fact that they were pastorally necessary. The result of the declaration of excommunication has been to confuse if not to scandalise the simple faithful and to give opportunistic liberals—whether mitred, priestly or lay—weapons with which to terrorise them further. The fact that the declaration and its attendant documents were, seemingly, canonically deficient adds even further to the confusion and scandal. All of this has troubled people and filled many with distressing worries and scruples. It is only to be expected—as we have seen in people contacting the monastery in recent days—that despair and bitterness are predictable responses to such unwise communications, especially communications from those who hold places of authority. One cannot escape the possibility that the charge of being “false prophets,” against which Our Lord warns us this morning, could be applicable. In the Gradual of this Mass the Church sings in the words of the Psalmist: “Come, O sons, listen to me, I will teach you the fear of the Lord. Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed.” How far removed is this assurance from the spreading of ambiguity which troubles others and fills them with useless scruples! Despair and bitterness are predictable responses to unguarded communications, especially from those who hold places of authority, such as the false prophets against whom Our Lord warns us. A genuine father can be recognised by his teaching of the fear of the Lord so as to ever draw people to God that He may illumine them and give them the courage to do that which is necessary for His glory—not only to act for His glory out of duty, but to rejoice in Him with joy and thanksgiving. True fear of the Lord draws a person to keep the eternal verities before their eyes—pre-eminently the four last things and the need ever to work for the salvation of their soul and of the souls of others. If we are conscious of the reality of eternity the right manner of dealing with what is temporal becomes clear. In our present context we must keep this before us always. Political posturing and ideology and partisan division in the Church must not be allowed to distract or divert us from the path of salvation. It must not be allowed to keep us from the sacraments and the saving graces that they convey. To supposedly excommunicate people in the hope that they will somehow return from such banishment when abusive, power-grabbing policies such as those promulgated in Traditiones Custodes are still officially in force is risible at best and pure evil at worst. In these circumstances the faithful can only turn to the sources of grace that are actually at their disposition. This morning’s Gospel ends with a stark warning: “Not everybody who says to me 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven. But he that doeth the will of my Father.” In these tumultuous times let all examine their consciences accordingly, ever conscious that the salvation of souls, and not the preservation of some ideology, is the supreme law in the Church.  To celebrate the feast of St Benedict we are offering a 20% discount on our four medals of St Benedict for the remainder of the month of July. The medal is available as a medal only in a silver or bronze finish, or in a silver finish with a chain, or in a bronze finish with a key ring. Each medal is double-sided with both designs. Order here. (Those in the USA are advised to combine their order with other people or products where possible due to the high shipping costs in force because of the tariffs imposed last year.) Pour célébrer la fête de saint Benoît, nous vous offrons une réduction de 20 % sur nos quatre médailles de saint Benoît jusqu'à la fin du mois de juillet. La médaille est disponible seule, en finition argent ou bronze, ou en finition argent avec une chaîne, ou encore en finition bronze avec un porte-clé. Chaque médaille comporte les deux motifs, recto et verso. Commandez ici. A Homily for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost - Homélie pour le sixième dimanche après la Pentecôte7/5/2026
 (Le texte en français suit.)
+ Ad te Domine, clamabo, Deus meus, ne sileas a me; ne quando taceas a me, et assimilabor descendentibus in lacum, the Church sings the Introit of this Holy Mass. “To thee, O Lord, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me, lest, if thou be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the Pit.” With these first words of Psalm 27 the Sacred Liturgy aptly expresses the distress of many souls in the light of ecclesial events of recent days. Whether or not one accepts that conscientious disobedience to positive (i.e. man-made, not divine) law (in respect of the consecration of bishops) is or was justified in current circumstances, and can therefore tolerate material but not formal (i.e. in fact gravely sinful) disobedience to ecclesiastical authority, we now face a new crisis—one of the pastoral order, whereby the faithful whose sole desire is to be faithful to the Church and to save their souls and those of their families are menaced by the threat of the sin of schism and of the penalty of excommunication. Their distress is real and it is compounded by commentary that is often far from accurate and which is lacking in the necessary pastoral precision. Rightly, they feel that this is all simply too much. With just cause do many cry out this morning: “To thee, O Lord, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me, lest, if thou be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the Pit.” So let us be clear: there is no sin (of schism or of any other sort) in simply seeking the salvation of one’s soul through the traditional liturgical rites of the Church, as the prayers for the Pope and the Diocesan Bishop which they contain attest. These prayers in fact bear witness to the exact opposite of schism. They are public manifestations at the very heart of our public worship of Catholic unity and of communion, not of sectarian division. And one is not excommunicated because one’s access to the older liturgical rites is sometimes or usually through a community who, before God, believed that they had no choice other than to engage in conscientious material disobedience to Church law in order to survive and remain faithful to their vocation and mission. Whatever of the culpability of clerics—and this is not the occasion to discuss that—even the official documents cited by the Holy See in recent days make it clear that the lay faithful simply seeking to worship Almighty God and receive the sacraments do not incur the penalty of excommunication thereby. (see: Explanatory Note, Pontifical Council for Legislative Texts, 24 August 1996) In the face of the ongoing brouhaha, one might well say: ‘Keep trad and carry on.’ For it remains true that “what earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too, and it cannot be all of a sudden entirely forbidden or even considered harmful.” (Benedict XVI, Letter to the Bishops, 7 July 2007) Of course, this truth was subjected to an orchestrated attack through that scandalous back-room ideological plot fuelled by the paranoia of ageing ecclesiastical liberals and based on downright lies that shamelessly manipulated the will of world’s bishops that we know only too well: the pastoral, liturgical and ecclesial disaster Traditiones Custodes (16 July 2021) that sought to end the peaceful worship of God according to the older rites that increasing numbers had grown fruitfully to love, driving faithful Catholics underground or away from parishes and dioceses and at times even outside of the visible communion of the Church. That the orchestrators of this scandal and the high priests of its heartless implementation remain at the centre of power to this day is a cause of very deep concern. It may also go some way to explain the technocratic severity with which the Vatican has acted in recent days. That Traditiones Custodes has not yet been set aside—quietly or otherwise—and that diocesan bishops continue to use it to forbid the celebration of the older liturgical rites cries out to heaven for justice. Rightly, this morning, do we sing: “To thee, O Lord, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me, lest, if thou be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the Pit.” The matter-of-fact severity with which the Vatican has responded to the events of recent days, and indeed the silence of the Holy Father in their wake, is indeed another source of serious concern. For some time now we have been repeating the words of Pope Benedict XVI—a pope who worked earnestly and fruitfully for ecclesial unity and liturgical peace: “Looking back over the past, to the divisions which in the course of the centuries have rent the Body of Christ, one continually has the impression that, at critical moments when divisions were coming about, not enough was done by the Church’s leaders to maintain or regain reconciliation and unity. One has the impression that omissions on the part of the Church have had their share of blame for the fact that these divisions were able to harden. This glance at the past imposes an obligation on us today: to make every effort to enable for all those who truly desire unity to remain in that unity or to attain it anew.” (Letter to the Bishops, 7 July 2007) This morning, unfortunately, his words are all the more pertinent. More could and should have been done in recent months, weeks and days. More must be done to build bridges and to open doors. The teaching of the Parable of the Lost Sheep (Mt 18:12-14) applies no matter what one thinks of the sheep concerned or how obstinate one believes it, or they, to be. In his pursuit of Church unity, in 2008 Pope Benedict XVI lifted the excommunications from the (then) four bishops of the Society of St Pius X. In his own words, “the quiet gesture of extending a hand gave rise to a huge uproar, and thus became exactly the opposite of a gesture of reconciliation.” So much so that the Pope found it necessary to write an unprecedented apologia to the bishops of the world. The questions he raised therein are more than pertinent in these days: “Was it, and is it, truly wrong in this case to meet half-way the brother who ‘has something against you’ (cf. Mt 5:23ff.) and to seek reconciliation? … Can it be completely mistaken to work to break down obstinacy and narrowness, and to make space for what is positive and retrievable for the whole? …Can we be totally indifferent about a community which has 733 priests, 264 seminarians, 5 seminaries, 94 schools, 2 university-level institutes, 144 religious brothers, 250 religious sisters and thousands of lay faithful? Should we casually let them drift farther from the Church? I think for example of the 733 priests…I do not think that they would have chosen the priesthood if…they did not have a love for Christ and a desire to proclaim him and, with him, the living God. Can we simply exclude them, as representatives of a radical fringe, from our pursuit of reconciliation and unity? What would then become of them? [statistics updated to those published in 2025] Certainly, for some time now, and once again on this specific occasion, we have heard from some representatives of that community many unpleasant things – arrogance and presumptuousness, an obsession with one-sided positions, etc… But should not the great Church also allow herself to be generous in the knowledge of her great breadth, in the knowledge of the promise made to her? Should not we, as good educators, also be capable of overlooking various faults and making every effort to open up broader vistas? And should we not admit that some unpleasant things have also emerged in Church circles? …During the days when I first had the idea of writing this letter, by chance, during a visit to the Roman Seminary, I had to interpret and comment on Galatians 5:13-15. I was surprised at the directness with which that passage speaks to us about the present moment: "Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’. But if you bite and devour one another, take heed that you are not consumed by one another." …sad to say, this "biting and devouring" also exists in the Church today, as expression of a poorly understood freedom. Should we be surprised that we too are no better than the Galatians? That at the very least we are threatened by the same temptations? That we must always learn anew the proper use of freedom? And that we must always learn anew the supreme priority, which is love?” (Letter to the Bishops, 10 March 2009) The purpose of these observations is not to declare for or against any group or person, let alone to judge them or to seek to exclude them. Let us not forget that whilst the prodigal son sinned shamelessly, his self-righteous elder brother did so also. (cf. Lk 15:11-32) Both were guilty of grave matter of which they needed to repent. And this is most certainly not an attack on our Holy Father—we do not know his motivations or intentions, and even if his silence leaves a significant vacuum, we owe him the patience that is part of filial respect. Let us pray earnestly for the Holy Father in these days! The purpose of these observations is solely to recall some fundamental truths and to insist that we are all called to pray and work in whatever way we can for their recognition and for reconciliation and Catholic unity. Even as we may share the distress and fear of the psalmist that all may be lost and that we are descending ever more rapidly into the Pit (or that we have already been cast into it) the Sacred Liturgy now takes us up to the Altar of God, where, by the infinite merits of Christ’s Sacrifice on the Cross, all that seems lost can be found again, and all that was dead can rise to new life (cf. Lk 15:32). Even as our hearts may be heavy, and much as we may feel wounded and distressed and even abandoned, let us never doubt that if we are faithful the Lord shall hear our plea and save us. For the grace of that fidelity and for an increase of the grace of supernatural hope in ourselves and in others, let us pray earnestly in this Holy Mass. + --------------------------------------------------------- + Ad te Domine, clamabo, Deus meus, ne sileas a me; ne quando taceas a me, et assimilabor descendentibus in lacum chante l’Église dans l’introït de cette sainte messe. « Vers vous, ô Seigneur, je crie ; mon rocher, ne restez pas sourd à ma voix, de peur que, si vous me faites taire, je ne devienne comme ceux qui descendent dans la fosse ». Par ces premiers mots du psaume 27, la sainte liturgie exprime avec justesse la détresse de nombreuses âmes face aux événements ecclésiastiques de ces derniers jours. Que l’on admette ou non que la désobéissance de conscience à une loi positive (c’est-à-dire humaine, et non divine) (en ce qui concerne la consécration des évêques) soit ou ait été justifiée dans les circonstances actuelles, et que l’on puisse donc tolérer une désobéissance matérielle mais non formelle (c’est-à-dire en réalité un péché grave) à l’autorité ecclésiastique, nous sommes désormais confrontés à une nouvelle crise — d’ordre pastoral —, dans laquelle les fidèles, dont le seul désir est d’être fidèles à l’Église et de sauver leur âme ainsi que celles de leur famille, sont menacés par le péché de schisme et la peine d’excommunication. Leur détresse est réelle et elle est aggravée par des commentaires souvent loin d’être exacts et dépourvus de la précision pastorale nécessaire. À juste titre, ils ont le sentiment que tout cela est tout simplement trop. C’est à juste titre qu’ils s’écrient ce matin : « Vers vous, ô Seigneur, je crie ; mon rocher, ne restez pas sourd à ma voix, de peur que, si vous me faites taire, je ne devienne comme ceux qui descendent dans la fosse ». Soyons donc clairs : il n’y a aucun péché (de schisme ou de quelque autre nature que ce soit) à rechercher simplement le salut de son âme à travers les rites liturgiques traditionnels de l’Église, comme en témoignent les prières pour le pape et l’évêque diocésain qu’ils contiennent. Ces prières témoignent en effet exactement du contraire du schisme. Elles constituent, au cœur même de notre culte public, des manifestations de l’unité et de la communion catholiques, et non d’une division sectaire. De plus, on ne peut pas être excommunié parce que l’accès aux rites liturgiques antéconciliaires se fait parfois ou habituellement par l’intermédiaire d’une communauté qui, devant Dieu, estimait n’avoir d’autre choix que de se livrer à une désobéissance matérielle de conscience au droit ecclésiastique afin de survivre et de rester fidèle à sa vocation et à sa mission. Quelle que soit la culpabilité des ecclésiastiques — et ce n’est pas ici le lieu d’en discuter —, même les documents officiels cités ces derniers jours par le Saint-Siège indiquent clairement que les fidèles laïcs qui cherchent simplement à adorer Dieu et à recevoir les sacrements n’encourent pas pour autant la peine d’excommunication. (voir : Note explicative, Conseil pontifical pour les textes législatifs, 24 août 1996) Face au tollé actuel, on pourrait bien dire : « Restons fidèles à la tradition et continuons comme avant ». Car il n’en reste pas moins vrai que « […] ce que les générations précédentes considéraient comme sacré reste sacré et grand pour nous aussi, et ne peut être du jour au lendemain entièrement interdit, ni même considéré comme nuisible.». (Benoît XVI, Lettre aux évêques, 7 juillet 2007). Malheureusement, cette vérité a fait l’objet d’une attaque orchestrée par une idéologie pernicieuse alimentée par la paranoïa de certains ecclésiastiques libéraux et vieillissants. Fondée sur des mensonges éhontés qui ont manipulé sans vergogne la volonté des évêques du monde entier, comme nous ne le savons que trop bien : le désastre pastoral, liturgique et ecclésial que constitue Traditiones Custodes (16 juillet 2021), qui visait à mettre fin à la paix liturgique qui permettait la célébration du culte selon les rites anciens qu’un nombre croissant de fidèles avait appris à aimer de manière fructueuse, poussant ainsi les catholiques fidèles à la clandestinité ou à s’éloigner des paroisses et des diocèses, voire parfois à sortir de la communion visible de l’Église. Le fait que les orchestrateurs de ce scandale et les grands prêtres de sa mise en œuvre impitoyable restent à ce jour au cœur du pouvoir est une source de très profonde inquiétude. Cela peut également expliquer en partie la sévérité technocratique avec laquelle le Vatican a agi ces derniers jours. Le fait que Traditionis Custodes n’ait pas encore été abrogé — d’une manière discrète ou non — et que les évêques diocésains continuent de s’en servir pour interdire la célébration des du rit romain antique est un de ces cris qui montent jusqu’au ciel. C’est à juste titre que nous chantons ce matin : « Vers vous, ô Seigneur, je crie ; mon rocher, ne restez pas sourd à ma voix, de peur que, si vous me faites taire, je ne devienne comme ceux qui descendent dans la fosse ». La sévérité sans détour avec laquelle le Vatican a réagi aux événements de ces derniers jours, et même le silence du Saint-Père à leur suite, constituent une autre source de grave préoccupation. Depuis quelque temps déjà, nous répétons les paroles du pape Benoît XVI — un pape qui a œuvré avec ferveur et succès pour l’unité ecclésiale et la paix liturgique : « En jetant un regard rétrospectif sur le passé, sur les divisions qui, au fil des siècles, ont déchiré le Corps du Christ, on a sans cesse l’impression qu’aux moments critiques où ces divisions se produisaient, les responsables de l’Église n’ont pas fait assez pour préserver ou rétablir la réconciliation et l’unité. On a l’impression que les omissions de la part de l’Église ont leur part de responsabilité dans le fait que ces divisions ont pu se cristalliser. Ce regard sur le passé nous impose aujourd’hui une obligation : tout mettre en œuvre pour permettre à tous ceux qui désirent sincèrement l’unité de demeurer dans cette unité ou de la retrouver. » (Lettre aux évêques, 7 juillet 2007) Ce matin, malheureusement, ses paroles sont d’autant plus pertinentes. On aurait pu et dû en faire davantage ces derniers mois, ces dernières semaines et ces derniers jours. Il faut en faire davantage pour jeter des ponts et ouvrir des portes. L’enseignement de la parabole de la brebis perdue (Mt 18, 12-14) s’applique, quelle que soit l’opinion que l’on ait de la brebis en question ou le degré d’obstination qu’on lui attribue. Dans sa quête de l’unité de l’Église, le pape Benoît XVI a levé en 2008 les excommunications qui pesaient sur les quatre évêques (à l’époque) de la Fraternité Saint-Pie X. Selon ses propres termes, « […] ce geste discret consistant à tendre la main a suscité une immense réaction, devenant ainsi exactement le contraire d’un geste de réconciliation ». À tel point que le pape a jugé nécessaire de rédiger une apologie sans précédent à l’intention des évêques du monde entier. Les questions qu’il y soulevait sont plus que pertinentes aujourd’hui : « Était-ce, et est-ce, vraiment une erreur, dans ce cas précis, d’aller à la rencontre du frère qui “a quelque chose contre toi” (cf. Mt 5, 23 et suivants) et de rechercher la réconciliation ? … Peut-on considérer comme une erreur totale de s’efforcer de briser l’obstination et l’étroitesse d’esprit, et de faire de la place à ce qui est positif et récupérable pour l’ensemble ? … Pouvons-nous rester totalement indifférents face à une communauté qui compte 733 prêtres, 264 séminaristes, 5 séminaires, 94 écoles, 2 instituts de niveau universitaire, 144 frères religieux, 250 sœurs religieuses et des milliers de fidèles laïcs ? Devrions-nous les laisser dériver sans sourciller toujours plus loin de l’Église ? Je pense par exemple aux 733 prêtres… Je ne crois pas qu’ils auraient choisi la prêtrise s’ils n’avaient pas eu un amour pour le Christ et le désir de le proclamer, ainsi que, avec lui, le Dieu vivant. Pouvons-nous simplement les exclure, en tant que représentants d’une frange radicale, de notre quête de réconciliation et d’unité ? Que deviendraient-ils alors ? [statistiques mises à jour selon celles publiées en 2025] Certes, depuis quelque temps déjà, et une fois encore en cette occasion précise, nous avons entendu de la part de certains représentants de cette communauté bien des propos déplaisants – arrogance et présomption, obsession pour des positions unilatérales, etc. Mais la grande Église ne devrait-elle pas aussi se permettre d’être généreuse, consciente de sa grande ouverture d’esprit, consciente de la promesse qui lui a été faite ? Ne devrions-nous pas, en tant que bons éducateurs, être également capables de fermer les yeux sur divers défauts et de tout mettre en œuvre pour ouvrir des perspectives plus larges ? Et ne devrions-nous pas admettre que certaines choses déplaisantes ont également fait surface dans les milieux ecclésiastiques ? …À l’époque où m’est venue pour la première fois l’idée d’écrire cette lettre, par hasard, lors d’une visite au Séminaire romain, j’ai dû interpréter et commenter Galates 5, 13-15. J’ai été surpris par la franchise avec laquelle ce passage nous parle du moment présent : « Ne vous servez pas de votre liberté comme d’un prétexte pour satisfaire la chair, mais, par amour, soyez au service les uns des autres. Car toute la loi est accomplie dans une seule parole : “Tu aimeras ton prochain comme toi-même”. Mais si vous vous mordez et vous dévorez les uns les autres, prenez garde à ne pas vous détruire les uns les autres. » … Malheureusement, ce « se mordre et se dévorer » existe aussi aujourd’hui dans l’Église, comme l’expression d’une liberté mal comprise. Faut-il s’étonner que nous ne valions pas mieux que les Galates ? Qu’à tout le moins, nous soyons menacés par les mêmes tentations ? Que nous devions toujours réapprendre à faire bon usage de la liberté ? Et que nous devions toujours réapprendre la priorité suprême, qui est l’amour ? » (Lettre aux évêques, 10 mars 2009) Le but de ces observations n’est pas de prendre parti pour ou contre un groupe ou une personne, et encore moins de les juger ou de chercher à les exclure. N’oublions pas que si le fils prodigue a péché sans vergogne, son frère aîné, qui se croyait sans péché, a lui aussi péché (cf. Lc 15, 11-32). Tous deux étaient coupables de fautes graves dont ils devaient se repentir. Et il ne s’agit certainement pas là d’une attaque contre notre Saint-Père — nous ne connaissons ni ses motivations ni ses intentions, et même si son silence laisse un vide considérable, nous lui devons la patience qui fait partie du respect filial. Prions avec ferveur pour le Saint-Père en ces jours ! Le but de ces observations est uniquement de rappeler certaines vérités fondamentales et d’insister sur le fait que nous sommes tous appelés à prier et à œuvrer, de toutes les manières possibles, pour leur reconnaissance, ainsi que pour la réconciliation et l’unité catholique. Même si nous partageons la détresse et la crainte du psalmiste, qui redoute que tout soit perdu et que nous sombrions de plus en plus rapidement dans l’abîme (ou que nous y ayons déjà été précipités), la Sainte Liturgie nous élève maintenant vers l’autel de Dieu, où, par les mérites infinis du sacrifice du Christ sur la croix, tout ce qui semble perdu peut être retrouvé, et tout ce qui était mort peut renaître à une vie nouvelle (cf. Lc 15, 32). Aussi lourd que soit notre cœur, aussi blessés, angoissés, voire abandonnés que nous puissions nous sentir, ne doutons jamais que, si nous sommes fidèles, le Seigneur entendra notre supplication et nous sauvera. Pour la grâce de cette fidélité et pour que grandisse en nous et chez les autres la grâce de l’espérance surnaturelle, prions avec ferveur au cours de cette Sainte Messe. + |
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