And I bet the first ones to be beaten into the ground will be the little children that you see in the lower left of the picture for this video above, you know, because atheistic “power” always begins with the ones they see as the most vulnerable. Satan thought Jesus was vulnerable, but Jesus rose from the dead, and is now taking souls back from Satan’s grasp. Jesus is intent on bringing us to heaven. This post is also tagged humor, however, because I had to laugh our loud at the enthusiasm of the Little Flock in the face of imminent danger. I love that. I would hate if they suffered any violence by the haters of religion.
Live baby organ extraction for Covid “vaccines.” Repent you murderous clergy collaborators. What the hell are you doing?
For research purposes, fetal tissue must be harvested and cooled within minutes of the abortion.
By JOSÉ L. TRASANCOS – April 30, 2021
In an article published last year, M.I.T.-trained scientist Fr. Nicanor Austriaco passed along speculation that the HEK-293 cell line may have been developed using tissue from a miscarriage. This cell line is in the news because it has played a role in the development and/or testing of the three vaccines currently authorized for emergency use for COVID-19.
The point of Fr. Austriaco’s conjecture, I presume, was to reduce worry that this cell line started with an abortion. But worry we should.
A Nonsense Claim: This conjecture seems to have become a full-fledged rumor. In recent months, many Catholics and other Christians have cited that rumor when defending these vaccines. But the rumor, to put it bluntly, is nonsense. There’s nothing in the scientific literature dealing with this claim, and for good reason.
No competent biologist would even try to establish a living cell line from dead tissue.
This fact becomes clear when we examine two things:
Number One: The biological process of miscarriage and stillbirth post-mortem changes at the cellular level.
A mother’s body tends to expel tissues related to pregnancy between four and twenty days following fetal demise. Most spontaneous abortions in early pregnancy (1st trimester) are caused by abnormalities in the chromosomes. In these cases, an embryo does not form. What tissue is expelled would be useless for establishing a cell line.
The other causes of miscarriage and stillbirth result in the death of the embryo or fetus. This demise happens several days to a few weeks before the expulsion of tissue.
Number Two: That time gap is critical, and bears on the second point: Cell Death.
When an embryo or fetus dies, its cells change fast. Autolysis begins within minutes after the vital functions of the brain, heart and lungs cease. This is a process of decomposition or “self-digestion,” where the cell membranes break down and release enzymes. Since oxygenated blood has ceased to circulate, the levels of carbon dioxide in the cells begin to rise and the pH within cells becomes ever more acidic. This rising acidity causes membranes within the cell to rupture. This includes the membrane of the lysosome, which contains a variety of enzymes for the digestion of nucleic acids, fats, proteins, and so forth.
In fact, even a run-of-the-mill abortion probably wouldn’t suffice. For research purposes, fetal tissue must be harvested and cooled within minutes of the abortion.
The rate of autolytic spread varies throughout the organism. Two of the main variables are the concentration of enzymes in the type of tissue and its temperature. Some organ tissues have relatively high concentrations of enzymes. The liver, kidneys and pancreas are examples, given their functions within the body. Smooth muscle tissue and lung tissue, in contrast, have relatively low levels of these enzymes. This is key, since researchers seek organ tissue as the source of cells for a cell line.
Scientists can’t reverse this process. As a result, they can’t establish a living cell line using the tissues expelled from a miscarriage or stillbirth.
Temperature: Temperature is also a major factor in miscarriage, since it has the greatest impact on the spread and progress of autolysis. The higher the temperature, the faster the autolytic reaction. Very low temperatures can slow the autolytic process dramatically, which explains how people have been revived after apparently drowning in very cold water, suffering no permanent ill effects.
In the case of a miscarriage or stillbirth, the temperature of the expired fetus remains at core body temperature inside its mother until it is expelled. This warm setting speeds up the progress and spread of autolysis.
Now, recall that the time between the fetal demise of a miscarriage and expulsion of the pregnancy tissues is measured in days. That means that by the time the tissue is expelled, there is no metabolic function anywhere in the fetal body. In fact, the expired fetus goes through a process of maceration (autolytic fermentation) prior to expulsion. This has the appearance of putrefaction: The skin separates and the tissue underneath becomes darkly discolored — though putrefaction is bacterial decomposition, whereas the amniotic sac is a sterile environment.
These are gory details of course. But they should make it clear why scientists would not use tissue from a miscarriage to establish a living cell line.
Carefully Coordinated Abortion: But what about perfectly-timed fetal death and then delivery in a hospital? Could that provide material for a living cell line? Almost certainly not. In fact, even a run-of-the-mill abortion probably wouldn’t suffice. For research purposes, fetal tissue must be harvested and cooled within minutes of the abortion. The scientific literature strongly implies that the abortions are carefully coordinated with tissue harvesting. One gets the clear sense that the abortion and the harvesting of the desired tissue were planned to preserve the integrity of the tissue.
In summary, establishing a living cell line from dead tissue is not possible. The cell lines used to test and/or develop the available COVID-19 vaccines came from abortion and deliberate planning, not spontaneous miscarriage or stillbirth. Resurrection of the dead requires far more than a medical degree or a PhD. It requires the direct power of God.
José L. Trasancos, Ph.D. is the President of the Board and Chief Executive Officer of Children of God for Life. He is delighted and blessed to be working there alongside his wife, Stacy, advancing pro-life causes, advocating for the preservation of human dignity and fighting to end the use of aborted fetal tissue in science and commerce. José and Stacy live in Hideaway, Texas, surrounded by their five children, one granddaughter (one of six grandchildren), two German Shepherds and a Bassett Hound.
When Mehmet Ali Ağca , Soviet puppet, pulled the trigger, our Lady of Fatima redirected the bullets. Saint John Paul II survived.
Where were you at the time?
I was a seminarian and was at the Shrine of our Lady of Fatima just outside of Rome, looking back at the City. The panorama is burned in my mind. This brings back many memories.
This was just five years after I had the privilege to be one of the Cadets of our Lady of Fatima who were chosen to help carry her statue for the main candlelight procession during the vigil of the July apparition, the night of 12 July, 1976, amidst a crowd of 2.1 to 2.2 million souls, when I was sixteen years old. My sister had introduced me to the scapular and rosary and the Blue Army when I was only six. She’s the one who paid for the trip when I was sixteen. I thank her for the great Catholic formation I received on this pilgrimage with Father Robert J Fox. Anyway, on that same trip with many other cadets, we went to Coimbra and met Sister Lucia. Years later I would return to Fatima in 2008 with all my fellow permanent chaplains of the Sanctuaries of Lourdes, France. Much was the same. Much had also changed.
The one who throughout the years kept me close to our Lady of Fatima was Pope Saint John Paul II. The nations rage, but Mary Immaculate’s Son is the Lord of History.
Do you remember where were you at the time of the attempt? Have you been to Fatima? Do you belong to the World Apostolate of Our Lady of Fatima (Blue Army)?
“The Apparition of Our Lady plunged us once more into the atmosphere of the supernatural, but this time more gently. Instead of annihilation in the Divine Presence, which exhausted us even physically, it left us filled with peace and expansive joy.” (In her own words [pdf]).
The annihilation spoken about here is wonderfully positive, recalling Saint Paul: It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. This is an annihilation because of the very Author of Life is present, He who is love. This is the weight of the glory – βάρος δόξης – spoken of by Saint Paul, following up on the Hebrew Scriptures: the weight/glory of the Lord: כבוד־יהוה. This weight of the glory of the Lord pushes us to our knees in humble reverence, in thanksgiving before the Most High. Mary is such a good mother.
In trepidation, I just might ask my guardian angel for a bit more of a smidgen of a sense of this annihilation. Trepidation, mind you. After all, who am I if not already a nobody asking to know just that before the presence of the Most High? This would be so that I might more adequately thank Him who is to come to judge the living and the dead and the world by fire, thank Him for coming into this world, standing in our stead, being annihilated for us that we in turn might be brought to life in Him.
In the words of Ven. Lúcia de Jesus Rosa dos Santos (Irmã Maria Lúcia de Jesus e do Coração Imaculado, O.C.D.):
And we began to go down the slope driving the sheep towards the road. When we were half-way down, near a holm oak there, we saw another flash of lightening, and after a few steps we saw on a holm oak a lady dressed in white, shining brighter than the sun, giving out rays of clear and intense light, just like a crystal goblet full of pure water when the fiery sun passes through it. We stopped astounded by the Apparition. We were so near that we were in the light that encircled her, or which she radiated, perhaps a meter and a half away.
“Please don’t be afraid of me, I’m not going to harm you.” “Where are you from?” “I come from heaven.” The Lady wore a pure white mantle, edged with gold and which fell to her feet. In her hands the beads of a rosary shone like stars, with its crucifix the most radiant gem of all. The Lady’s presence produced in her only gladness and confident joy. “And what do you want of me?” “I want you to return here on the thirteenth of each month for the next six months, and at the very same hour. Later I shall tell you who I am, and what it is that I most desire. And I shall return here yet a seventh time.”
“And shall I go to heaven?” “Yes, you will.” “And Jacinta?” “She will go too.” “And Francisco?” “Francisco, too, my dear, but he will first have many Rosaries to say.” For a few moments the Lady looked at Francisco with compassion, tinged with a little sadness. Lucia then remembered some friends who had died. “Is Maria Neves in heaven?” “Yes, she is.” “And Amelia?” “She is in purgatory.”
“Will you offer yourselves to God, and bear all the sufferings He sends you? In atonement for all the sins that offend Him? And for the conversion of sinners?” “Oh, we will, we will!” “Then you will have a great deal to suffer, but the grace of God will be with you and will strengthen you.” She opened her hands, and we were bathed in a heavenly light that appeared to come directly from her hands. The light’s reality cut into our hearts and our souls, and we knew somehow that this light was God, and we could see ourselves embraced in it. By an interior impulse of grace we fell to our knees, repeating in our hearts: “Oh, Holy Trinity, we adore You. My God, my God, I love You in the Blessed Sacrament.””Say the Rosary every day, to bring peace to the world and an end to the war.”
After that she began to rise slowly in the direction of the east, until she disappeared in the immense distance. The light that encircles Her seemed to make a way amidst the stars, and that is why we sometimes said we had seen the heavens open.
/// So, to the heart of it: Keeping our sights on heaven and not forgetting those in purgatory, this is about suffering in atonement for sin and for the conversion of sinners:
“Will you offer yourselves to God, and bear all the sufferings He sends you? In atonement for all the sins that offend Him? And for the conversion of sinners?”
“Oh, we will, we will!”
“Then you will have a great deal to suffer, but the grace of God will be with you and will strengthen you.”
“Oh, Holy Trinity, we adore You. My God, my God, I love You in the Blessed Sacrament.”
“Say the Rosary every day, to bring peace to the world and an end to the war.”
N.B. The title of our Lady of Fatima is actually “Our Lady of the Rosary.”
Craig provides an amazing tour of world history relative to the Fatima Century. This was slightly revised and republished by Father Gordon MacRae, and is now on his newly revised site: Beyond These Stone Walls.
In Canon 915 we read that those who are…
- “obstinately persevering in manifest grave sin are not to be admitted to Holy Communion.”
Cardinal Burke commented on ongoing past controversy about all this, recounting that:
- “The discussion among the Bishops uncovered a fair amount of serious confusion regarding the discipline of can. 915. First of all, the denial of Holy Communion was repeatedly characterized as the imposition of a canonical penalty, when, in reality, it plainly articulates the responsibility of the minister of Holy Communion, ordinary or extraordinary, to deny Holy Communion to those who obstinately persevere in manifest grave sin.
Scenario: Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion is to flat out deny admission of Holy Communion right in front of God and the whole church even though he/she or his/her pastor has not had any ongoing dialogue with said Joey Biden.
The point is that Joey Biden’s sin is a sin, it is grave, is it manifest (public and unmistakable) and from which he has not publicly repented, and therefore he is to be flat out denied, turned away, even forthwith escorted from the church by security if he disrupts the religious service, a crime, I think, pretty much everywhere in these USA.
However, the Prefect for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has the pretense of rejecting the universal law of the Church, which follows upon Divine Revelation, as we read in Saint Paul that those receiving the Eucharist without discerning the Body and Blood of Christ are eating and drinking their own condemnation. I should think that the Cardinal Prefect has better think again before he seemingly calls the Holy Spirit a damned fool.
The Cardinal Prefect “requires that dialogue occurs in two stages: first among the bishops themselves, and then between bishops and Catholic pro-choice politicians within their jurisdictions.” Meanwhile, I’m thinking about the priest or deacon or other who must deny Joey Biden on the spot, and not wait during Communion time for such two-stage dialogues to occur. Sigh.
The Cardinal Prefect wants the bishops to be unanimous. When’s the last time any bishops in the history of the church were unanimous about anything? The answer is never.
The Cardinal Prefect wants this to apply not only to politicians, but to everyone. Great idea! But then he adds all moral issues into the mix using the heretical “seamless garment” idiocy that holds abortion and moving violations as equivalent. In other words, no one receives Holy Communion ever, and we cannot tolerate that, so everyone all the time no matter what can receive Holy Communion.,
Since the Cardinal Prefect insists on unanimity, and since Cardinal Wilton Gregory has mandated that the unrepented Biden is to be given Holy Communion at churches in the archdiocese of Washington D.C., the “dialogue” is over, and everyone everywhere no matter what is to be given Holy Communion, you, Pachamama Satanists…. everyone!
This is one priest who will simply follow Saint Paul and Canon 915. I would rather die than give unrepented Joey Biden Holy Communion. I won’t.
But don’t think I’m angry and cold hearted and unmerciful. I’m totally lighthearted in being able to deny Joey Biden Holy Communion. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing as a priest. I’m helping Joey Biden to repent and get to heaven. I’m taking his soul seriously. So is that priest in South Carolina who denied Joey Biden Communion. There are many. And the number is growing.
The Cardinal Prefect and his sycophant bishops literally don’t give a damn about Joey Biden’s soul, do they? They speak only of division in politics. The priests who deny Joey Biden Holy Communion want Joey Biden in heaven, you know, all things being right with his conversion and such.
And, yes. Denial will have political implications if Joey Biden is turned away. Rightly so. And it will have implications for the better among Catholics as believers as well.
Jesus said that He did not come to bring peace, but the sword of the Word, the Father’s Living Truth, in which we rejoice. Amen.
This is now the situation in many countries. It’s coming to a church near you. Are you ready?
Did he know this was going to happen? Yes.
Did he run? No.
What a great pastor!
To sum it up: If we have no free exercise of religion, nor even freedom to worship God as all worship of God is criminalized by the State, then we are left with nothing but terror and compliance with Satan.
But are not to have any fear! Jesus said so. So, no terror received. Do you sense any fear in this guy’s voice? No. Is he compliant with Satan? No.
But, my more incisive question in my circumstances: Where are those Catholic clergy and bishops like him? There are some, but they are very few and very far between. We must encourage our clergy and bishops to have no fear!
In the front photo of the video this pastor’s face is set like flint, like Jesus on His way to Jerusalem to be crucified. No fear. No anger. But surely determination to see the course through, to fight the good fight. I love that. I pray that I can strive to follow this guy’s example. Thanks, Pastor Pawlowski!
Don Claudio Tonini, whom I consider a saint (without prejudice over against the Congregation for the Causes of Saints), was the parish priest of a fairly populous parish named after the Sacred Heart of Jesus in a mid-peninsula coastal smallish industrial and quite entirely unapologetically Marxist city of Italy (opposite the island of Elba). The town’s name is reminiscent of bullets: “Piombino,” “A Bit of Lead.” It’s nickname is “La Piccola Russia,” The Little Russia.
Don Claudio died in his 80s in March 1993, some 12 weeks after catastrophic injury-instigated medical disintegration consequent upon the murderous assault he suffered some months previously, in December 1992, only months after my own ordination to the priesthood.
That December of 1992, I was finishing up coursework for a Licentiate degree in Sacred Scripture at the Pontifical Biblical Institute in Rome. A list of parishes right around Italy went up on the bulletin board next to the infamous Aula IV of the PIB, requesting that any available student-priests sign up to travel to whatever parish throughout Italy in order to help out with hearing Christmas Confessions. I waited for other priests to take their pick, but then it was too late. My hesitation was surely the work of my guardian angel. The next thing I knew, the list was taken down. Feeling utterly useless, I went to one of the upper-hierarchy of the Jesuit community who was in charge of this project and asked him if there was still another parish that needed a priest.
“Yes,” he said enthusiastically, and then added immediately:
- “I was going to go myself, but, believe me, you are the perfect one to go there. You are the only one who could go there. You’re perfect for this. Thank you for volunteering. You have the perfect balance and reserve and judiciousness for this [and on and on, making me suspicious]. Thank you for doing this. There are problems. But you’re perfect for this. Thank you.”
- “What are the problems?” I asked, dead-pan.
- “You’ll see when you get there,” he said, refusing to tell me even when I pressed him on this. But then he praised the parish priest of the parish: “He’s a famous missionary up and down the Italian peninsula, always in demand as a preacher of parish missions, called in by bishops far and wide. The [Marxist] town built a youth center for him next the church since everyone in town respects him so much.”
Taking the train from Rome, walking from the train station to the parish, dragging some luggage, I found myself quite alone, the church open, but dark. I looked around, prayed a bit, but the rectory was all locked up. I had been given instructions to stay in the guest room of the religious community around the block. Off I went.
The nice sisters led me to my a small “cell” in the guest quarters and then pointed to a table in another room with some bread and water and some tid-bits of food (very delicious, mind you). I was heartily thanked as the sisters came in to get a look at the one who was apparently a brave young priest for taking on this task. I was something of zoo animal. This simply couldn’t believe that any priest would be brave enough to take on the task. But I wasn’t brave. I was just there to hear some Confessions. That’s it. I didn’t know the story.
But our Lord would use the drama in that parish to continue training me in about the heart of the priesthood from the point of view of the High Priest, Christ Jesus. Our Lord was training me in to be a donkey-priest. Mind you, all donkeys are guard-donkeys, apt at protecting any flock of sheep from the wolves. I didn’t know there was a wolf in this situation, not yet.
“Where’s the parish priest, Don Claudio Tonini?” I asked the sisters. They looked at me, dumbstruck that I hadn’t been told what had happened. And they didn’t want to tell me, speaking in ambiguities that meant nothing. But I knew I would be alone in covering this Italian parish for Christmas, something I didn’t expect I would ever be doing a month before.
Eventually, asking really a lot of people, I found out what happened. My heart sank. Don Claudio was still in the hospital when I got there.
What had happened is that don Claudio’s assistant priest “Quel M” as don Claudio charitably called him, was finishing Sunday Mass, and while everyone was still there don Claudio went up to the pulpit to announce that all the youth were to gather over in the youth center after Mass, so, an announcement of ten seconds or so. Don Claudio was great at teaching the kids about Jesus on their level, but preparing by reading the Summa Theologiae of Saint Thomas Aquinas.
“Quel M” let himself get enraged about this, becoming volcanic, but able to get back to the sacristy, rip off his vestments and storm away. But he disappeared only for a few hours, coming back that afternoon to hunt down diminutive don Claudio (mid-80s, frail, about 5’5″ and perhaps 125 pounds), who was sitting at his desk in his office.
With both hands, “Quel M” (mid-30s, strong as an ox, about 6’5″ and perhaps 310 pounds) grabbed the largest volume of the Summa Theologiae of Saint Thomas Aquinas, and proceeded with all his might to bash don Claudio over the head and on his face with it, then choking him in a strangle hold trying to crush his throat which don Claudio had used to preach about Jesus throughout his life. Don Claudio, strangled for what I’m sure seemed like an eternity for don Claudio, dropped to the floor. “Quel M” left don Claudio for dead. Three days later (three days, mind you), don Claudio awakens from his coma and, from the floor – still on the floor precisely where he was left for dead, is just able to reach the phone on it’s stand and call an ambulance, face and head swollen like a basketball, eyes still swollen shut after three days. I still shudder today at the monstrosity of “Quel M”.
The assistant, “Quel M,” as don Claudio called him, successfully escaped to the mountains and then, not being arrested, hid out (ironically on any number of levels) at “La Misericordia” (The Mercy, an ancient funerary organization in Italy) located at a crusader era church at the waterfront just down the street from the parish.
The most the bishop and the vicar general would do at that time is, basically, nothing. They and the other priests of the Diocese of Massa Marittima – Piombino were scared to death of “Quel M”.
Senseless, you say? Sick, you say?
Meanwhile, “Quel M” returned to the parish (though forbidden by the bishop), in order, he thought, to preside at the funeral of the head of Italy’s Catholic Action. She was from the parish and all sorts of politicians and dignitaries and untold numbers of churchmen of every rank showed up from throughout the Italian peninsula. I asked the higher-up ecclesiastics if they would like to preside over the funeral. They were afraid, and so cited my appointment by the local ordinary to surveil the situation. I couldn’t believe it. “Quel M”, standing right there in the sacristy before Holy Mass, was a volcano. A monsignor whispered to him that he shouldn’t be there and “Quel M” erupted violently, but somehow got himself out the door like a twirling Tazmanian devil of Bugs Bunny fame, though there was nothing funny about this. He could easily have killed all of us. The priests were wide-eyed, truly afraid. “Quel M” again had murder in his eyes and was totally out of control. Within a few minutes he was back in again. In order to calm down the situation I asked him if he would do the first reading. “Si!” he exclaimed. But then, during Mass, from the side, he said all the parts that I was to say as the “main celebrant” as the phrase goes in the Novus Ordo (back in 1993). “Quel M” said those prayers in a very loud voice indeed, almost shouting them out. Just so sad. I let him read because I was afraid that he would actually have killed a number of the old priests there. Truly… Anyway…
Don Claudio survived his stay at the hospital, returned to parish, and he and I became instant life-long friends if such a thing makes sense. It’s just that it seemed we knew each other forever. He loved Jesus. He loved the truth. He called our friendship in the priesthood a “sintonia” in the truth, explaining that sintonia has to do with radio waves being on the same frequency, strengthening each other. It would only be weeks before he died. When one is smashed about to death as an elderly person, this will exacerbate all other medical conditions, and it will not be long before one dies.
When Saint John Paul II got wind of all this, he was pretty upset, furious really, and sent a letter to all the Italian bishops about how to deal with their priests. It was like a lightning strike. Bishops were on notice. Yikes! This was a saga which carried on some years and was infamous everywhere in Italy. When priests found out that I had been the one to stay with don Claudio they instantly exclaimed: “You’re the one!” incredulous that I was standing before them. But I was nothing but a donkey-priest doing what I had to do. It is don Claudio who is inspiring. Let me tell you a bit about that:
The rest of the story: I repeatedly begged don Claudio to tell the police what had happened, to tell the full story to the bishop, but he would not do this. Don Claudio didn’t want to hurt “Quel M” in any way. Don Claudio wanted with all his might that “Quel M” come to know the mercy of the Lord. Don Claudio taught me much about the priesthood in view of other priests. I don’t know if I leaned what I should have learned, but my experience with him has nonetheless been invaluable for me. Thanks, don Claudio! I went to visit his tomb in the mid-2000s, brought there from Rome by a friend who has served as a kind of special secretary, so to speak, for a successive number of Roman Pontiffs. Even after so many years, his tomb was surrounded by huge bouquets of fresh cut flowers. That’s impressive. I prayed for the repose of his soul, and then asked that he pray for this donkey-priest still upon this earth.
Having said all that, if I had walked in on “Quel M” attacking don Claudio, I think I would have – in one movement – thrown him through the window (high up along the ceiling with those way too narrow windows) and out into the garden far below. If he had broken down the doors (I think we had already changed the locks) so as to reenter to do away with me, a kind of post-hoc witness to the murder… Well, I’ll just stop there… Yikes! So, I’m no saint.
As the years went by, “Quel M” visited the student priest residence where I was staying in Rome. I sat at the same table with him at lunch (twelve to a table). He sat across from me. His eyes bugged out like a cicada eyes when he realized that I had been the priest who had rescued don Claudio’s parish many years previously:
“Splutter, splutter, splutter…” was all he could say. He was once again a volcano, but had to control himself, but just couldn’t, so outraged was he. Meanwhile, he knew he was being watched by the powers-that-be at the table, who were way too well connected for him to be able to throw a fit.
Meanwhile, the bishop of that little diocese back in the day was kicked upstairs to about the very top of the Vatican hierarchy. I just couldn’t believe it.
Meanwhile, “Quel M” had been a mockery of what it means to be a donkey-priest, killing the shepherd by crushing his esophagus, instead of keeping the wolves away by doing the same to them, figuratively speaking.
I had already been well aware of the spiritual hideousness that priests can get into, but I had never met someone like Judas who would just go ahead and kill a fellow priest. But, now, I had an experience that this was also possible. I know Judas betrayed Jesus, but it’s different somehow when you see someone with blood on their hands for having done this quite literally.
This prepared me for more opening of my eyes to how far Jesus had to reach to get all of us, so very far, right into hell, so as to save us. My eyes were opened, like that cicada pictured above, as to how far Jesus had to reach to get me. I realized a bit more how bad and evil I am if I am without the grace of our Lord: so very bad and evil. “Quel M” and yours truly, I realized, are not so very different. Given the circumstances in life, you know, from birth, it’s all “There but for the grace of God go I.” If we don’t get that, we are liars to God, to neighbor, to ourselves.
Graced humility is the only way. Don Claudio shows us the way. He didn’t at all want to hurt “Quel M” in any way, but only wanted that also “Quel M” know the mercy and goodness of the Lord. This donkey-priest has so much to learn about that graced humility that don Claudio exemplified. No wonder he was in high demand for conferences retreats for priests and for parish missions right around Italy. Thanks be to God for don Claudio Tonini.
The Holy See has said continuously and forcefully over against bishops that Holy Communion is to be distributed on the tongue of any recipient so desiring regardless of any Covid.
Scientifically speaking, the Catholic Medical Associations both in the USA and in England and Wales have stated that distribution of Holy Communion is more hygienic on the tongue than in the hand. But when it comes to respect for faith and science, no one cares. Or should I say, people want to do the wrong thing. Maybe some are just mistaken, with no one to correct them. Fine. But here’s the correction.
I know of a pastor who, contravening this, forced an elderly woman who had never received Holy Communion in her hand to do so, and then break it in her hand so as to give Viaticum to her extremely elderly dying mother. It totally broke her heart to do this. The priest also forced her to put a mask on her dying mother, even though this would likely have killed her, so shallow and worked-up was her breathing. I got a call about this before that other priest arrived and told her that she was to hold the mask over the face of her mother but up and away from her mouth and nose. At least that. But this is all insane.
Those priests who do their own will over against the Church and force people against their consciences are acting ultra vires – beyond their powers – as they have no authority to do this. It is not disobedience to put one’s hands behind one’s back to reverently receive on the tongue. If you are denied, do not rebel, do not talk back, do not fight. Just go quietly back to your pew and later have a bit of dialogue about it with proper authority in the Church.
One person said it was his plan to wear plastic gloves, you know, Latex, Vinyl & Nitrile Gloves, which collect fragments like a magnet, hyperbolically more than in the video above. DON’T do that. DON’T insult our Lord. Respect our Lord and He will lift you up in His grace more so than if you had disrespected Him just to get Holy Communion, as if that were a superstition forcing God. Sorry, there I am, judging again. But, anyway, here’s the correction!
And DON’T be afraid of priests.
ON THE ONE HAND: Let’s take a look at wrong-headed LEOs. But first of all, let me say that the misleading headline of FoxNews should instead read that the Police had unlawfully confronted a pastor during a religious service and then later arrested him. FoxNews makes it look like the pastor is at fault. He’s not.
Let’s see the video of their actually hunting him down and arresting him. It took them – what? – something like six weeks to find him, when he was out and about as always taking care of street people, as if that’s a bad thing, you know, like outdoors, where Covid has zero chance of spreading. Oh, I get it, they had to have overwhelming force and that took six weeks of planning.
And then there is the fencing of churches because, you know, there are more “cases”, which means that there are heaps of people with no symptoms, maybe some few who have a 98.7F temp just because of normal body-temp fluctuation. The Canadian Prime Minister has long said that this is all about the “great reset”, that it has nothing to do with any coronavirus. Get it? No religion allowed. In the USA, Dems voted God out of their “party.”
And there are more arrests rendered against pastors. And there is the fencing of properties:
The pastor of the GraceLife campus was in jail for a month. I wonder if the DOC had him purposely raped and beaten.
Outside of the SSPX in Ireland, I don’t know of any Catholic churches that have been harassed. You know why? Because pretty much every Catholic church is closed in Canada, relying on Chinese controlled Zoom (as if that could provide the Sacraments).
Here in these USA, so many Catholic churches are giddily enjoying political correctness with the likes of Joey Biden and opening their churches but as converted over to being injection clinics. This is true, even though all available “vaccines” have purposely aborted super healthy well developed babies for research, development and testing of “vaccines.”
We’ve come to a time when atheistic dialectical materialism holds that proper worship of God (tongue in cheek) is the murder of the most defenseless among us. See how the Catholic pastors fall. I thank these non-Catholic Christians for giving us a good example. But will we follow it?
Here in Cherokee County of North Carolina we have a town meeting on film showing how, in a packed meeting, like sardines, no law enforcement – all the leadership of which was in attendance – were wearing masks, none of the town leaders were wearing masks. Nobody in the room was socially distanced.
But that wouldn’t stop Federal police of whatever kind smashing people down in a church and arresting everyone, desecrating the Blessed Sacrament during Mass (in a Catholic Church), terrorizing everyone.
ON THE OTHER HAND: We have this from Father Kirby. He has high praise of LEOs, as do I, but he points out, as do I, that there is total hypocrisy when LEOs go against their oath to protect the murder of the least among the brethren. Great homily, Father Kirby:
The same “higher standard” applies to those who as Catholic priests and bishops profess to uphold the protection of life from natural conception to natural death, protecting the very image of God in creation, but then hypocritically attack God’s image among the most defenseless in the womb by defending and promoting (God forbid requiring) abortion-tainted “vaccines”.
How very arrogant and entitled we are these days. Will Jesus find any faith upon the earth when He returns?
BY THE WAY AND JUST TO SAY: LEOs that I know have said that they would never infringe on anyone’s Constitutional rights, no matter for what “reason.”
Memories of Donna (R.I.P.) include a zillion times that she supplied actual flowers for the Immaculate Conception. They would go in the little chapel of the hermitage next to the statue of the Immaculate Conception. Donna got us the Monstrance for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament that you see above. She also got us our chalice. She got us the votive candles right through the years.
Meanwhile, Jesus called her home. After the funeral, I stopped at the homestead, where I took a picture of this as her husband spoke to me about her comments on these continuously flowering flowers on the trees out front. He said that this picture better show up on my blog:
Nice. But here’s the truth of it: Donna prayed the Rosary, a lot, and for priests, even for yours truly. I am forever indebted. Thanks, Donna. Those Rosaries are really lots of most acceptable flowers to the Immaculate Conception.
This is tagged “Humor” because I had to LOL when I heard the officer ever so politely say things ever so calmly like “O.K.” and “Thanks.” I mean, this is sad, tragic, that anyone whomsoever could have such an attitude as does this woman. Wow. But it’s great to see the officer give back utter professionalism. So cool. LOL.
Look, all lives matter, black and blue and white and whatever. We’re all God’s children, well, except for those who don’t want to be. But nobody is beyond Redemption and Salvation, even this lady. Jesus’ grace is more than sufficient, but we can’t go around rejecting Jesus, meaning that we have to love God and neighbor, and racism like this is forbidding that love of God and neighbor, right?
“For your penance spend a few minutes before the Blessed Sacrament thinking about these things,” said my confessor.
I had accused myself of perhaps not excluding judgment of motives of those exteriorly presenting untoward speech and/or actions.
“The same tongue of judgment is the same which pronounces the Consecrations at Holy Mass,” he had said.
6MWE = Six Million Wasn’t Enough, which means 6MIE = Six Million Isn’t Enough.
6MWE is an academic opinion as far as the law is concerned, but it may hide an active threat of a serial killer.
Proud Boys can’t see anything wrong with 6MWE. They think to say 6MWE is good.
I checked out what Proud Boys say of themselves. How very filthy, disgusting. Anyone belonging to the Proud Boys who was Catholic has taken himself out of the Church.
I’m not virtue signaling here. Catholics who should know better and vaunt themselves as “leaders”, say, some bishops in Texas, seem to have the idea that it’s no good to lobby against procured abortion claiming that “no political issues” can be mentioned in church regardless of also being moral issues belonging to the Ten Commandments, indeed, to natural law (without which there is no moral life). Religion does have something to do with the moral life!Simultaneous to this is what seems to be the opinion of some of them that nuances regarding the 2nd amendment to the U.S. Constitution can be politically lobbied about, as long as what one says politically militates against the 2nd amendment. Because defense of the innocent against mortal aggression already being delivered threats is evil? Have these bishops taken themselves out of the Church?
In past years, a good friend of mine with over-the-top skill sets in all things operational offered to sharpen my at-the-time non-existent skill sets with my EDC Glock 19. He was in NC the other day and invited me to a special range he frequents for recreational purposes. He’s wanting to introduce me to long-range fun, with man-sized targets a mile or more out, and playing card targets out a thousand yards. He wants me to put few bullets through the center of a Quarter, that is, a U.S. 25¢ coin. That special range of his is many thousands of miles a way, so that will have to wait for just a bit, for some months. Perhaps later this Summer.
That’s a stock photo above, but he has his long-range tool set up exactly the same way. His particular tool uses Creedmoor 6.5.
So, it’s just a coincidence, I know. But that’s the cartridge for the rifle that my “Shadow” wanted me to buy for him. Straw purchasers become instant felons in doing such things, so, no, I won’t be doing that. :-) But it’s weird that my “Shadow” and I always and everywhere in every way have each other’s skill sets, no matter how improbable. Interesting, but this guy has nothing to do with my “Shadow.” If you knew why target practice in such manner even with the likes of yours truly is great recreation for my friend, you would say, stunned into silence… “Oh… wow… so… it’s all good… wonderful… that’s the best… prayers for him…”
Anyway, I’m now on a list. I went down to one of our great gun stores the other day and put my name down on a customer form for some boxes of Creedmoor 6.5. That’ll be months coming in. So, I’ll have to wait for that.
But that timing is great. I’ll be able to study up on all the math I’ve long forgotten with cosines and such for the longer shots. Calculations are constantly changing for wind, humidity, and so on. I’ll have to practice calm breathing with the shot going out on the exhale, with the heart slowed down altogether. I did that once as a kid, but I knew nothing then, as now.
It’ll be an entirely different experience. The Glock factory down in Smyrna, GA, worked on the trigger for quite a while. Usually Glocks are set to 5.5 pounds or so. Some redo theirs to about 3 pounds. This guy has his trigger on his ultra-special tool set for… wait for it… 0.5 pounds. Yikes! Hair-trigger if there ever was one. But when you’re lying down, your breathing is way calm and smooth, your heart hardly beating, your trigger finger can be ever so calm in pulling just that tiny little bit.
Ah… you know… would that it could be – and it can be – that we can have an agility of soul and purity of heart that we can calmly follow the least movements of the Holy Spirit in our souls, ever so prompt and at the ready to commit to what God has in mind for those He takes to Himself, like laying down our lives for the least of the brethren at a moments notice. Yes. That’s what we aim for, so to speak, by instead letting ourselves be led by the Holy Spirit.
In back of the rectory above. In front of the rectory below.
The doghouse is up on blocks, but the water was only about an inch away from the bottom.
Under the rectory there’s a lake. Water didn’t get into the house, except for the outside storage room, but nothing hurt there. The asparagus and tomatoes seem to be doing well. Everything is watered rather sufficiently.
So much water. And – hey! – we also have a number being baptized in some days, so, watering the garden of the Lord, so to speak. So, it’s all good.
Seen in yet another Faith Formation classroom in the parish.
A review is good from time to time. :-)
This “Rules” notice was seen in one of our Faith Formation classrooms. This used to be the discipline in Catholic Schools and why Catholic Schools generally and regularly through the decades were fully two grades (at least) ahead of all other public schools.
But, of course, discipline means nothing without the interior wherewithal to be disciplined, that is, by way of friendship with God, which we are provided with the Sacraments.
Faith Formation is great, but…. what we really need are Catholic Schools with teaching orders of religious Sisters.
Hey, there’s an idea!
“The one receiving the power of the Apostle Peter.” Well, if that is the Bishop of Rome, who is the legitimate Successor of Peter, that’s true. But the “Power of Keys” – to bind and loose – say, by not absolving or instead absolving sin in the Confessional, is normally going to be delegated to bishops and then to priests, but that reception of the Power of Keys does not make bishops and priests into the Pope. But that’s not actually being said in chalk in the picture of one of our Faith Formation rooms is it? No. The Latin saying refers generally to the power of the Apostle Peter, who also has immediate and personal jurisdiction over ever place and person in the One Holy Catholic (universal) and Apostolic Church founded by Jesus on the very person of Peter. And that’s made clear through a partial explanation in Spanish. And I’m sure all this came up in the class room of the littlies of the parish. I think I have the best parish in the world.