The Example and Spiritual Legacy of England’s Largely Forgotten Saint, Bishop John Fisher by Edwin Benson

 

You can read the original source here. 

June 21, 2024

 

Ironically, one of the reasons for Saint John Cardinal Fisher’s relative obscurity is confusion with his contemporary, Saint Thomas More. They were convicted of the same crime and executed in the same manner. Holy Mother Church canonized them in the same ceremony 400 years after their deaths.

First, we need to place John Fisher into his historical context. Without that context, his life leaves more questions than answers.

Before Henry VIII’s apostasy, the Church was far wealthier than the Crown. Indeed, it was said that no one at any point in England could walk more than an hour without encountering a parish church, monastery, convent, hospital, or school. However, that wealth and power masked a deep and widespread impiety.

England was emerging from the War of the Roses. For 32 years, two branches of the Royal House of Plantagenet—Lancastrians and Yorkists—battled each other. The civil government was rent by discord while the Church prospered.

An Independent Spirit - The eleven hundred miles between Rome and London spawned a sense of independence in the English Church. That made it easy for Englishmen to embrace the anti-religious humanism of the so-called Renaissance. This attitude not only explains Henry VIII’s apostasy but also that of the English bishops.

Another common problem was that the road to higher office and income was based more on personal connections than care for souls. Most of the politically powerful Church leadership was inept at piety, preaching, and scholarship.

In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, there were only three learned professions—teaching, the law, and the clergy. Teaching didn’t pay much. Lawyers were held in low repute. Those with the right connections often chose the Church. Therefore, the upper clergy was usually occupied by the ambitious rather than the genuinely pious.

The seminaries of the time also bear some of the blame. Many sources charge that the typical run of parish priests knew only enough Latin to celebrate Holy Mass.

A Brilliant Young Man - Historians know little about John Fisher’s childhood. Scholars even have to guess about the date of his birth. Most place the date at 1469.

He was raised in a market town in Yorkshire. His father, Robert Fisher, dealt in woolen goods, and the family prospered. His father died young, and his mother re-married. Fisher’s mother and stepfather must have seen something extraordinary in young John because he entered Cambridge University at the age of fourteen.

John Fisher completed a Bachelor’s Degree in 1488 and a Master’s in 1491. He was ordained into the priesthood at age 22. He quickly moved up through the ranks of the Cambridge faculty to be a “senior proctor” by age 25.

“The Lady Mother of the King” - In 1495, the young academic attended a dinner that would change his life. An entry in his official logbook stated, “I dined with the Lady Mother of the King.”

The King’s mother was Lady Margaret Beaufort. She was a descendant of King Edward III. She had a tumultuous life. Her family was on the Lancastrian side in the War of the Roses. She would marry—and bury—four husbands. The second was Edmond Tudor—a Yorkist. He died a year later, but the marriage would produce an heir, Henry VII, whose coronation ended the dynastic dispute.

Unusually, the Lady Margaret’s world of dynastic marriages, politics and the uncertainty of dynastic war made her immune to the attractions of power. One of John Fisher’s modern biographers said of her, “The Lady Margaret’s deep devotion to the Church and her love of learning gave meaning to her life and excluded those worldly ambitions that might have poisoned the feelings of any other woman standing so close to the throne.”

Her fourth husband died in 1504. The 61-year-old noblewoman dedicated the rest of her life to religion. For the rest of her life, she served God by creating colleges to train priests. In that process, her young confessor, Father John Fisher, played a significant role.

Long after her death, John Fisher wrote of Lady Margaret, “That though she chose me as her director to hear her confessions and to guide her life, yet I will gladly confess that I learnt more from her great virtue then ever I could teach her.”

The Best Connections - As mentioned before, Henry VII’s coronation marked the end of the War of the Roses. However, his claim to the throne was not secure. The King’s insecurity would be reflected in his son and successor—Henry VIII.

Henry VII and Lady Margaret had a close personal relationship. They saw eye-to-eye on matters of state. Therefore, It is only natural that the son should respect the man his mother trusted so much. The King appointed John Fisher to be the Bishop of Rochester in 1504. This appointment began the most productive phase of John Fisher’s life.

John Fisher’s position was enviable. He was in favor with the King, and the confidant of the King’s mother. He was a well-regarded academic figure creating two new colleges with the Lady Margaret’s considerable resources behind him. He was also a Bishop, which made him a member of the House of Lords.

A Holy Bishop in a Lowly Diocese - Rochester, though, had the reputation of being the poorest diocese in England, an unattractive rural backwater.

For a bishop, especially one with John Fisher’s intelligence, contacts, and influence, Rochester could have been a “stepping stone” to higher preferment. However, Fisher remained the Bishop of Richmond for 31 years until his death.

Even more unusually, he fulfilled his duties in person. Most of Fisher’s fellow bishops delegated their responsibilities to underlings. That was not Fisher’s way. He threw his energies into the task while continuing his political and academic duties. It must have been exhausting. The travel alone, in unheated carriages, must have consumed vast amounts of his time. Yet he made those trips frequently.

The jurist, William Rastell—Saint Thomas More’s nephew and associate—left this recollection:

 

“He was in holiness, learning and diligence in his cure and in fulfilling his office of Bishop such that of many hundred years, England had not any bishop worthy to be compared unto him. And if all the countries of Christendom were searched, there could not lightly among all other nations be found one that hath been in all things like unto him, so well used and fulfilled the office of Bishop as he did. He was of such high perfection in holy life and strait and austere living as few were, I suppose, in all Christendom in his time.”

 

John Fisher had been a Bishop for five years when Henry VIII became King. Father Fisher may have even been one of young Henry’s tutors. However, they were never close. Fisher was twenty-two years older than the young King, who probably looked at his grandmother’s confessor as a kind of holdover.

Gathering Clouds Over England - Fisher’s downfall can be traced to a remarkable event in May of 1527. Over three days, King Henry VIII answered charges that he lived in sin with his brother’s widow. The hearing was a farce. No one would have had the courage to list Henry’s sins to his face unless the King had some ulterior motive. This pseudo-court was the first move in Henry’s attempt to obtain a divorce from Catherine of Aragon.

Leviticus 20:21 says, “He that marrieth his brother’s wife doth an unlawful thing, he hath uncovered his brother’s nakedness: they shall be without children.”

Princess Catherine—daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain—had been betrothed to Henry’s older brother, Arthur, when Arthur was eleven. The two kings desired an alliance between England and Spain. The couple met each other four years later. The marriage ceremony took place nine days after they met.

However, the fifteen-year-old prince was unwell, dying six months after the wedding. There is much evidence that the couple never consummated their marriage. The two kings agreed that the seventeen-year-old Catherine should eventually marry Henry, who was eleven when his brother died. Both kings requested and obtained a papal dispensation for the marriage. In 1509, the seventeen-year-old King married the twenty-three-year-old princess.

By 1527, Henry wanted a new wife. Historians still argue about whether Henry’s primary motivation was the lack of a male heir or the coquettish charms of Anne Boleyn. Eager to dispose of Catherine, Henry assigned to his Lord Chancellor and Archbishop of York, Thomas Wolsey, the task of obtaining a papal annulment.

Defending the Queen and the Faith - John Fisher entered this torrid tale when Wolsey asked the bishops for their opinions about the legality of the Pope’s dispensation that had allowed the couple to marry.

Fisher based his opinion on Our Lord’s statement to Saint Peter, “Whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shalt be bound in heaven.” The Pope had granted a dispensation, therefore the marriage was legal and indissoluble. Any other conclusion would brand the dispensation as a papal mistake, and such an error was impossible.

Fisher would not be executed for another eight years. However, the personalities of the lecherous, power-mad King and the righteous scholar-bishop allowed no other outcome. Those eight years are signs of Fisher’s influence as a peerless scholar, a dutiful bishop, and a self-sacrificing Christian.

Henry sought to win Fisher over to his side, to no avail. The situation drove European politics into turmoil. Catherine’s nephew, Charles V, was King of Spain and Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. Pope Clement VII knew that any decision must infuriate either Henry or Charles.

Henry and Wolsey tried a new strategy. The Church would decide the question through a rarely used Legatine court under the auspices of England’s papal legate, Cardinal Caravaggio. At the court, Bishop Fisher argued the Queen’s case.

“Forsooth, my lord,” Fisher began. “I am a professor of the truth; I know that God is truth itself, nor he ever spake but the truth; which said, What God hath joined together let not man put asunder. And forasmuch as this marriage was made and joined by God to a good intent, I say that I know the truth the which cannot be broken or loosed by the power of man upon no feigned occasion.”

Some say that Henry flew into a rage at hearing these words. However, he was sufficiently intelligent to know that executing the famous Bishop would encourage opposition.

Failed Political Strategies - Henry’s advisors recommended caution. Fisher was already in his late fifties at a time when fifty was old. He was thin and emaciated from his many penances and his exhausting schedule. Surely, he would die soon. After his demise, his words could be safely ignored. Henry acquiesced. He even grudgingly made Bishop Fisher Queen Catherine’s counselor.

Amazingly, the King had some residual affection for his Queen. No one records that Henry ever spoke ill of Catherine herself. Was he trying to assuage his conscience? Was it a cynical political move? It is a mystery that fascinates many.

Bishop Fisher did his utmost to argue for Queen Catherine’s cause and, simultaneously, the cause of Catholic England.

By 1530, Henry had decided that his Chancellor had failed him. Cardinal Wolsey died while on his way to London, where trial and execution awaited him.

Separation from the Body of Christ - In December 1532, Henry married Anne Boleyn secretly. She became pregnant. There was a public wedding in January. On May 23, 1533, the loathsome Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, declared that Henry’s earlier marriage to Catherine was invalid. Soon, Parliament passed an “Act of Succession,” declaring Henry and Catherine’s daughter, Mary, illegitimate and giving her rightful place to Anne Boleyn’s children. In 1534, Parliament passed the “Act of Supremacy,” officially separating England from the Catholic Church. It established Henry as the supreme head of the new Church of England.

Furthermore, it was declared an act of treason not to swear to the Acts of Succession and Supremacy.

John Fisher refused the oath. He was taken to the Tower of London, where he would spend the last year-and-a-half of his life. There was an official trial, but its outcome was never in doubt.

One last significant event happened before Bishop Fisher’s execution. On May 31, 1535, Pope Paul III elevated the Bishop to become the Cardinal of San Vitale.

Henry was enraged. When he heard of it, he shouted, “Let the Pope send him a hat when he will. But I will so provide that whensoever it cometh he shall wear it on his shoulders—for head he shall have none to set it on.”

Less than one month later, Henry carried through on his threat.

John Fisher’s Remarkable Death - The following excerpts from the narrative of Saint John Fisher’s death were composed by Professor Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira.

    “In the early hours of June 22, the Tower officer met the prisoner in his cell and reminded him that he was old, unable to bear the prison regime for long. Then he announced the King’s decision that the execution takes place that very morning.

    “All right,” replied the saint. “If that’s the message you bring, it’s nothing new to me. I waited for it every day. What time is it?”

    “About five.”

    “What time is my departure from this world scheduled?”

    “At Ten.”

    “Then I would thank you if you allow me to sleep another hour or two, as I didn’t sleep much last night, not out of fear but because of my illnesses and great weakness.”

    “When the officer returned at nine o’clock, he found Fisher ready and dressed. The holy Bishop took the New Testament and read with great consolation these words of Saint John: “Now this is eternal life: That they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent. I have glorified thee on earth; I have finished the work which thou gavest me to do. And now glorify thou me, O Father, with thyself, with the glory which I had, before the world was, with thee.” Then he asked to be given his fur-lined robe. To which the officer questioned him:

    “But, my lord, why should you take such care of your health if your time is up and you have little more than an hour to live?”

    “I ask for my cloak to keep me warm until the moment of execution. For even though I do not lack the courage to die a holy death, I still don’t want to jeopardize my health even for a moment.”

A Saint Requests Prayers - “He walked towards the scaffold, straightening his body, which was so thin and gaunt that it looked like death had taken a human form. On the platform, in an intelligible and clear voice, he asked those watching the execution to pray for him:

    “Until now, I have never been afraid of death. However, I am flesh, and Saint Peter, fearing for his flesh, denied the Lord three times. Help me, therefore, that at the precise moment that I receive the mortal blow, I do not give in through weakness on any point of the Catholic Religion.”

    “At the scaffold, he felt that his human weakness could get the upper hand. He was afraid of becoming afraid. Thus, he asked those present to pray for him.

    “How appropriate it was for him to distrust himself! There, on the scaffold, his tormentors insisted on perverting him and making him deny the Catholic faith. Their last-minute harassment had a purpose. They know that it would be a triumph for the Anglican cause if he accepted their heretical proposals. If the saint accepted the offers, he would leave that scaffold surrounded by honor and applause. He would sleep that night comfortably in some palace and have a few years of pampered life ahead of him.

    “However, Saint John Fisher feared his fear. He feared a temptation from the devil at that time. He recognized that he might fall. Thus, he asked for others to pray on his behalf. Above all, he must have begged for the intercession of Mary Most Holy at the throne of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

    “He remained unshakable in his faith, was beheaded, and received the crown of martyrdom.”

The conclusion of Professor Plinio’s reflection leaves us to briefly discuss the importance of Saint John Fisher to modern Catholics.

Redemptive Suffering - Saint John Fisher, alone of all English bishops, stood up for the Church. Their commitment was weak because they had worldly ambitions. Saint John Fisher’s was strong because it was based upon knowledge, conviction, and self-sacrifice.

Saint John Fisher is important as an example of redemptive suffering. Suffering was a constant in Fisher’s life. One might look at the thirty-year-old Fisher and wonder what he had to suffer about.

However, even at the height of his importance, John Fisher knew that only suffering builds and tests virtue. So, he imposed that suffering upon himself. He wore a scratchy hair shirt underneath his dignified clothing. He fasted even though he could have eaten foods as fine as England could provide. He slept four hours a night. In the dark night, he examined his conscience and meted out punishments with a flagellant’s whip.

Such a foundation would serve him well. His fellow bishops feared losing their comforts and positions. Fisher knew that life’s comforts were tawdry compared to Heaven’s joys. He conquered luxury—and, as such, could treat it with contempt. When he dressed in his best clothes on June 22, 1535, he knew he was losing nothing. John Fisher walked into the arena with his eyes open—and still he went.

Who will be the Church’s heroes in 2024, as Saint John Fisher was in 1535?

“The Core Question Regarding the Priestly Society of Saint Pius X” by Bishop Athanasius Schneider

 

You can read the original source here.

 

The questions and problems relating to the Priestly Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX) have been the subject of a largely fruitless debate for over fifty years and have now culminated in the announced episcopal consecrations, which have not yet been approved by the Holy See. The discussion has been fueled by emotion—often quite literally cum ira et studio—and is frequently conducted by individuals who lack direct familiarity with the relevant documents or personal experience of the SSPX. In many cases, their knowledge is superficial and shaped by preconceived judgments. As a result, the debate often resembles a dialogue of the deaf, in which the same arguments are endlessly repeated without any meaningful progress.

Moreover, the debate largely bypasses the central issue raised by the SSPX. This failure stems from a fundamental methodological error and a lack of fact-based justification concerning the objective doctrinal and liturgical ambiguities that lie at the heart of the controversy. At its core, the conflict revolves around the question of truth.

 

1. Vatican II in the Context of the Other Twenty Ecumenical Councils

The first error consists in treating a pastoral council—in this case, the Second Vatican Council—as though it were entirely dogmatic, and presuming that all its statements are to be regarded as definitively proposed and binding upon all Catholics. Those who do so overlook that Paul VI himself stated: “There are those who ask what authority, what theological qualification the Council intended to give to its teachings, knowing that it avoided issuing solemn dogmatic definitions engaging the infallibility of the ecclesiastical Magisterium. The answer is known by whoever remembers the conciliar declaration of March 6, 1964, repeated on November 16, 1964: given the Council’s pastoral character, it avoided pronouncing, in an extraordinary manner, dogmas endowed with the note of infallibility.” (General Audience, January 12, 1966). This applies also to the Council’s two “dogmatic” constitutions, Dei Verbum and Lumen gentium, since the adjective “dogmatic” possesses a broader meaning and is not limited to dogmas understood as teachings endowed with infallibility.

Among the other twenty ecumenical councils, one finds numerous pastoral or disciplinary statements and documents that are no longer applicable today (e.g., the decree of the Fourth Lateran Council stating: “If a temporal lord neglects to cleanse his territory of the heretical filth, he shall be bound with the bond of excommunication”) as well as non-definitive doctrinal statements (e.g., on the matter and form of the sacrament of Holy Orders from the Council of Florence) that were later corrected by the Magisterium of the Church. One cannot absolutize every concrete historical form of Church leadership, for doing so would eliminate the necessary distinction between, on the one hand, the unchanging and enduring truths of faith (Depositum Fidei) and, on the other, the various modes by which those truths are transmitted (e.g., a pastoral statement, non-definitive doctrinal statement, or ex-cathedra definition), each of which carries a different degree of authority and binding force.

Today, however, to be in full communion with the Holy See, one must accept those affirmations and teachings of Vatican II that are pastoral and certainly non-definitive in terms of their magisterial nature. This raises an important question: Why is the unconditional acceptance of the texts of Vatican II presented as a conditio sine qua non for full communion with the Holy See, while no comparable requirement exists with respect to the pastoral, disciplinary, or non-definitive teachings of the preceding twenty Ecumenical Councils?

Among the non-definitive teachings of Vatican II there are several—particularly those concerning religious liberty, ecumenism, interreligious dialogue, and collegiality—whose formulations are ambiguous and difficult to reconcile with doctrines taught consistently by the Magisterium from the era of the Church Fathers through the period immediately preceding the Council.

There is also the question of the ritual and doctrinal deficiencies of the Novus Ordo Missae. Such concerns can no longer be dismissed out of hand, as evidenced, for example, by the testimony of Archimandrite Boniface Luykx, in his book A Wider View of Vatican II: Memories and Analysis of a Council Consultor (Angelico Press, Brooklyn, NY, 2025). The defects of the Novus Ordo Missae remain a matter of serious discussion and cannot simply be glossed over. Nevertheless, the Holy See is asking the SSPX to accept non only the validity but also the legitimacy and goodness of the liturgical reform in the Novus Ordo Missae.

 

2. Two modern excesses in the life of the Church: legalism and papal-centrism

The resolution of the SSPX question is hindered not only by a reluctance to confront, with intellectual honesty, the underlying doctrinal issues and to acknowledge the existence of doctrinal ambiguities requiring correction but also by an unhealthy mentality that has developed within the Church over the past several centuries: namely, the primacy of legalism or juridical positivism, together with an excessive papal-centrism that approaches a quasi-divinization of both the office and the person of the Pope.

These modern exaggerations distort and constrain the life of the Church by subordinating the primacy of the purity and clarity of the faith and liturgy to the demands of legalism and papal-centrism—a phenomenon foreign to the Fathers of the Church and to the great tradition. In this exaggerated form of papal-centrism, the Pope and his magisterium, even when not strictly dogmatic or definitive, tend to be treated as possessing an absolute and quasi-divine character. The ecclesial climate has often been shaped, at least implicitly, by assumptions that approximate such attitudes.

Most commentators on the current controversy surrounding the SSPX episcopal consecrations remain, often unwittingly, influenced by the excesses of legalism and exaggerated papal-centrism that characterize much of contemporary ecclesial life. The law that episcopal consecrations carried out without papal authorization—or contrary to the Pope’s expressed will—constitute a schismatic act, was foreign to the era of the Church Fathers. Indeed, this law only came into force in the second millennium. Canon 1387 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law, which prohibits the consecration of a bishop without a pontifical mandate, is classified among the “Offenses against the Sacraments,” rather than among the “Offenses against the Faith and Unity of the Church,” where schism is penalized (can. 1364). Were episcopal consecration without a pontifical mandate intrinsically schismatic, it would be located among offenses “against Unity of the Church.” The corresponding canon in the 1917 Code was likewise included among the “Delicts in the Administration and Reception of Orders and other Sacraments” (Title XVI), rather than among the “Delicts against the Faith and Unity of the Church” (Title XI).

 

3. The Extraordinary State of Crisis, and even Emergency, in the Church

Since the Second Vatican Council, the Catholic Church has been experiencing a climate of general ambiguity, vagueness, and uncertainty regarding important doctrines such as the uniqueness of Christ the Redeemer, the uniqueness of the Catholic Church, the divinely established monarchical structure of the Church (on the universal and the local level), and the sacrificial character of the Holy Mass. It is unmistakably evident that those who have held administrative power in the Holy See for the past decades, and still hold it today, demand from the SSPX as a conditio sine qua non for full communion with the Holy See the acceptance of the de facto climate of doctrinal and liturgical ambiguity and relativism, which has reached its peak with the current, extremely confusing, synodal process throughout the entire Church. Since the Council, with some of the mentioned ambiguous teachings, a process has been underway to establish, with the authority of the Roman Pontiff, a so-called “Church of Vatican II” or the “Conciliar Church.” This tendency, in our day under the new name of the “Synodal Church,” basically aims to be a relativist religion adapted to the world. Attempts to disguise this new trend toward an ambiguous, relativistic, and worldly form of the Catholic Church through a hermeneutic of continuity are dishonest and unconvincing.

 

4. The SSPX’s Dilemma of Conscience

The Holy See is requiring the SSPX to accept ambiguously formulated and non-definitive doctrines as a conditio sine qua non for full communion with the Holy See and for receiving canonical regularization. These include teachings concerning religious freedom, ecumenism, interreligious dialogue (including e.g., the statement of Lumen Gentium 16 that Muslims, together with Catholics, “adore the one and merciful God”), episcopal collegiality (as understood in a manner that diminishes the Church’s divinely instituted monarchical structure), and the liturgical reforms associated with the Novus Ordo Missae. The Holy See is also requiring the SSPX to formally recognize the declarations and teachings of the post-conciliar Popes that belong to the so-called authentic and daily magisterium. These include, for example, certain statements in Amoris Laetitia that seriously undermine and even contradict Divine Revelation; Pope Francis’ formal permission for divorced and remarried people to receive Holy Communion; and the Declaration on blessings for same-sex couples, Fiducia Supplicans.

If one examines with intellectual honesty the extraordinary crisis that has afflicted the Church since the Council—together with the ambiguities and the doctrinal, liturgical, and pastoral relativism that have accompanied it—then the existence and activity of the SSPX may be viewed, from a long-term perspective and in the light of the Church’s two-thousand-year history, as a work of divine providence and as a source of assistance to the Church during a crisis of unprecedented magnitude.

In reading the recent documents issued by the SSPX Superior General, Father Davide Pagliarani, particularly the Declaration of Catholic Faith and his Message to the Society and its faithful (attached below), one cannot fail to note a thoroughly Catholic spirit, imbued with a true faith in papal primacy and a filial devotion toward the person of the Supreme Pontiff.

The problem facing the SSPX is not difficult to understand. The Holy See requires that the SSPX accept, without substantial objection, certain objectively ambiguous and non-definite teachings of the Second Vatican Council, ambiguous statements of the post-conciliar papal magisterium, and objective doctrinal and ritual flaws in the Novus Ordo. Yet God has never demanded the acceptance of doctrines that are unclear or ambiguously formulated, and throughout her history the Church has always acted accordingly.

The SSPX considers it one of its essential reasons for existence to call, with parrhesia, for a return to the absolute clarity and purity of doctrine that the Church has always sought to preserve throughout the centuries. In the past, the Roman Pontiffs endured persecution, martyrdom, and even schisms rather than tolerate the slightest ambiguity in the expression of the faith. Among the most notable examples are the rejection of the ambiguous term homoiousios; the rejection of the Henotikon, which, although not formally heretical, nevertheless undermined the clarity of Christological doctrine and facilitated the spread of Monophysitism; and the rejection of the ambiguous Christological formulations of Pope Honorius I (+638). Several Popes condemned Honorius I posthumously, not for heresy, but for doctrinal ambiguity and for having aided the spread of heresy. Unity is not, in itself, the ultimate criterion of truth. Church history knows numerous situations in which tensions existed between tradition and the actual exercise of ecclesiastical authority.

The very fact that certain teachings of the Second Vatican Council, together with the liturgical reform, have given rise—and continue to give rise, both in theory and in practice—to a weakening of doctrinal clarity obliges the Pope, following the example of many of his heroic predecessors, to clarify and, where necessary, amend these teachings. This should be done with such renewed doctrinal precision and clarity that no room remains for ambiguous or erroneous interpretations. In this regard, the following principle, which has long guided the Roman Pontiffs, remains more relevant than ever: “Ambiguity can never be tolerated in a Synod (Council), whose principal glory consists above all in teaching the truth with clarity and excluding all danger of error” (Pius VI, Auctorem fidei).

The tragedy of the present situation is that the Holy See requires the SSPX to accept the existing state of doctrinal and liturgical ambiguity as a conditio sine qua non for full communion and canonical regularization. During the Monothelite controversy, when Pope Honorius I adopted an ambiguous position, the holy Patriarch Sophronius of Jerusalem sent his suffragan, Stephen, Bishop of Dor, to Rome, instructing him to go to the Apostolic See, where the foundations of orthodox doctrine are found, and not to cease praying and petitioning until those in authority examined and condemned the novel error. Bishop Stephen remained in Rome for ten years, persevering in this mission until he witnessed the condemnation of the heresy by Pope Martin I at the Lateran Council of 649. In a certain sense, the SSPX is fulfilling a similar role today, unceasingly urging the Holy See to bring an end to the situation of doctrinal and liturgical ambiguity and uncertainty. The SSPX has repeatedly declared that it has no other intention than to form the souls entrusted to its pastoral care into good Christians and true sons and daughters of the Roman Church. Ultimately, one ought to be grateful to the SSPX for this role, future Popes certainly will be.

 

5. The Pope’s Pastoral Solution to the SSPX Problem

The Holy See should give due consideration to the Declaration of the Catholic Faith and the Message to the Faithful issued by the Superior General of the SSPX, and should recognize these documents and acts as sufficient, and satisfying the minimum conditions, for ecclesial communion. An excommunication at the present time would open a new, unnecessary, and avoidable wound in the Mystical Body of Christ.

In light of these documents and acts of the SSPX, the Pope, with his paternal heart, could make an exception and permit episcopal consecrations through a truly generous pastoral gesture. By imposing an excommunication upon the consecrating and consecrated bishops, the Supreme Pontiff would be punishing implicitly also the faithful of the SSPX—a portion of his flock—who sincerely love and recognize him, yet who, because of what they perceive to be a genuine dilemma of conscience, see no alternative but to continue to be pastorally assisted by the SSPX, for whose existence the episcopate remains indispensable, particularly for the administration of the sacraments of Holy Orders and Confirmation.

Therefore, solely for the good of souls and the good of the Church, the SSPX is asking that the Supreme Pontiff show understanding, under the present circumstances, for its need to have bishops and permit the episcopal consecrations. Regrettably, despite what it regards as an objective dilemma of conscience, the SSPX is, for the most part, characterized as schismatic and proud.

With a spirit of magnanimity, the Supreme Pontiff, as a true father, could build a bridge to the SSPX, this portion of his flock, and permit the episcopal consecrations on an exceptional basis in order to foster a climate in which, through greater mutual trust, a solution to the doctrinal questions and the corresponding juridical arrangements may be found patiently and gradually. The synodal Church of our day should be capable of such pastoral breadth and generosity. In light of the many generous ecumenical statements and initiatives of recent decades, it should likewise demonstrate its capacity to address a serious ecclesial problem through dialogue, patience, and understanding inside the Catholic Church.

Recently, Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Vatican Secretary of State, affirmed that, regarding the deviations of the German bishops, the Holy See does not wish divisions to escalate into punitive measures, emphasizing that problems within the Church should, whenever possible, be resolved peacefully. Why should this approach not also be applied to the SSPX, which denies no dogma, recognizes the primacy of the Pope, prays for him, and professes filial devotion to him, while preserving only what the Church believed and celebrated universally until the Council? At the same time, the German Synodal Way has advanced clear doctrinal deviations that promote de facto heresies and even blasphemous positions. Why, then, should reconciliation and patient dialogue be emphasized in one case but not in the other?

If, this year, the Pope were to pronounce an excommunication, a new anathema, upon the consecrating and consecrated bishops, it would go down in Church history as an error of excessive pastoral severity. Future generations and future Popes would come to regret it. Why should the Pope do today what future generations may lament tomorrow? Should we not learn from history? Is not the Pope, as the Supreme Pontiff, called above all to be a builder of bridges?

Sr Maria Antonia - Under Angel Wings

 

You can read the original source here.

 

Source for this information is from the book “Under Angel Wings- The Autobiography of Sister Maria Antonia”, Tan Books, 2000, Edited by Fr. J. Batista Reus, S.J.

 

Under Angel Wings is the true story of a Brazilian girl named Cecy Cony (later Sr. Maria Antonia), who was born in 1900 and was led to high sanc­tity under the continual guidance, protection and inspiration of her Guardian Angel, whom she called her "New Friend." The autobiography of Sister Maria Antonia was first published in 1949 by the Franciscan Press of Petropolis, Brazil. This book became so popular that the first edition was soon exhausted, and a second edition was issued in 1950. Because of the extraordinary popularity of the book, numerous editions were again printed during the 1950's, and translated into various languages. including the current one from Tan Publishers in 2000.

The editor of her autobiography was Father John Baptist Reus, SJ., who had been Sister Maria Antonia's spiritual director during the last few years of her life. In his introduction Father Reus tells us how the autobiography came to be written:
“Obliged by obedience, Sister Maria Antonia wrote the recollections of her life with a certain repugnance, and after asking the special help of Our Lord. As she finished each of the six notebooks of which the autobiography consists, she handed them in to her religious supe­riors, and did not ask anything further about them…” It was only after she died that the notebooks were published.

Her spiritual director Father John Baptist Reus, SJ writes- “…Humble, singularly sincere and innocent, she never lied in her life, that is, she never offended her Divine Master deliberately ["por querer” ie- intentionally]. She was incapable of inventing mystical occurrences. Neither from books nor in any other ordinary way could she have become acquainted with the supernatural phenomena that she describes so clearly. When she learned toward the end of her life that there were souls who never experienced the sensible presence of Our Lord at Holy Communion, she asked with great astonishment: ’Not even on the day of their First Holy Communion?’ When she received an answer in the negative, she replied very sadly ‘Those souls never came to know of our Lord's Presence in this life.’

Sister Maria Antonia saw her Guardian Angel throughout most of her life, however there is a period beginning in 1935 where God permitted that she no longer see her “New Friend”, perhaps because God was leading her, and drawing her ever closer to Himself through the “night of the spirit”, which is often experienced by mystics and those having reached the higher realms of spirituality.

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"Make yourself familiar with the Angels, and behold them frequently in spirit; for without being seen, they are present with you" -St Francis de Sales

 

Excerpts from: “Under Angel Wings- The Autobiography of Sister Maria Antonia”

 

The Angel - In the year 1905 the time for the carnival approached. At that season my mother would deck us out in fancy dress. Then, accompanied by Acacia and Coriceicao, my sisters and I would go with the other little ones to the town square. I had a great dread of those who disguised themselves in those horrible masks. I thought the masks were their real faces, and I believed that those persons were supernatural beings who lived in the depths of the earth, surrounded by fire, in that place about which Dona Mimosa had spoken.

I believe that this was the first year that I accompanied my sisters. All the confusion and noise of the square frightened me. The multi­tude of masked people, big and small, jumping around and beating the ground with those big balloons tied at the end of a stick-all this filled me with such terror that I might have died if the good God had not come to my aid. I was with the other children, who were enjoying themselves; but Acacia [her caregiver –editor] and Conceicao, con­versing with other servants, were not paying any attention to me.

Thus, filled with terror and with no one to comfort me, I conceived the idea of getting away from there and returning home. I did not know the way, but I resolved to leave by the big gate. This was all I knew. I did not think of anything else. I left the group of children, and immediately I was swallowed up in that small square, which to me was like a world with­out end. I did not cry. My great fear had frozen my tears.

In my terror I remembered the good Jesus [a crucifix in her home which she was devoted to], whom I had left behind alone, and I felt a great sorrow for not having brought Him with me. But I knew that my Father in Heaven sees and knows everything, and that He certainly saw me there alone. Just then a big man, wearing a hor­rible mask and with flashing eyes that I can still see in my imagination, approached me and took me by the hand. At that moment I could have died of fright.

I had walked a few steps, held prisoner in his big hand, when I sensed, at my side, with­out actually seeing anything-knew to be pres­ent just as truly as I knew the presence of the big masked man on my other side-the Angel whom I had seen in the picture at the home of Captain Bezerra. My Father in Heaven had sent this angel to stay with me and take me home. I was aware of his presence without see­ing him, but it was as if I had seen him. I had the absolute certainty that he was at my side, on the side opposite the masked man. Then the masked man freed me with a push and I did not see him anymore. He disappeared into the crowd.

All my terror now left me, and my soul was filled with a sweet tranquillity because of the confidence I felt in my "New Friend." I had come in sight of the gate leading out of the square when I saw Acacia running toward me. If I had seen her before the arrival of my "New Friend," I should certainly have run toward her with the same anxiety with which she was has­tening toward me. But my calmness no doubt quieted Acacia's anxiety; and neither she, nor my father, nor my mother, ever knew of this incident of the Angel, for this is the first time that I have related it.
From that day in February or March of 1905 my "New Friend" accompanied me always and everywhere. He stood guard with me at the foot of the big bureau as we watched before the Crucified Jesus. From that time I had no more fear of the semi-darkness of that room, for I felt the sweet, protecting presence of my "New Friend." That is the name I gave him and called him by until I was six years old, when I learned that he was my holy Guardian Angel. I under­stood him perfectly when he spoke to me, although I never heard his holy voice.

Her devotion to Jesus - Soon after the carnival I heard my father say­ing one day that we were going to take our vacation at the sea. On the following day I saw Acacia, Conceicao and my mother busily prepar­ing clothes and packages. We were going to the sea! This thought delighted me. My New Friend would go also. This I knew. Every member of the household was going, even the good Abelino, the soldier who bathed Congo. Abelino would drive the carriage. However, my father could not go. During our absence he would have to live in the barracks, as our house would be closed up. I was thinking about all this while I was arranging, in a little basket that Dona Mimosa had given me, the teddy bear and also the big doll, which could get into the basket only by sitting down.

Suddenly my great joy was changed into bit­ter sorrow as I remembered Someone. Even the little teddy bear would go; only my beloved Cru­cified Jesus would remain alone. He who had sent my New Friend to protect me from the masked man, He would have to remain in the dark, closed-up room. I would willingly have remained with Him, but I knew very well that my mother would not allow this. Ah, but-then the thought came to me-supposing, in place of the doll and the teddy bear, I should take along the crucifix. Acacia had given me the lit­tle basket for the doll and the teddy bear, but instead I would take the crucifix without my mother or Acacia knowing anything about it.

I went to the bedroom. Having placed the high chair near the bureau, I was able to reach my Great Friend and place Him in my lap. Then, going to the wardrobe, I took out a small cape and wrapped up that crucifix which I liked so much. It was thus that the crucifix went also to the sea. During the journey I kept the bas­ket with me all the time. When we arrived at the sea, I guarded it at the foot of my little bed. We stayed many days at the seaside, but the crucifix remained always in the little bas­ket. I brought it back to the city and placed it on top of the bureau without my mother or Acacia knowing.

The Temptation of the Peaches - One afternoon some other children and my sisters and I went for a walk in the country with Acacia and Conceicao. Acacia took money with her to buy fruit, and we carried little baskets. We went to a farm that was recommended by Abelino, the good soldier whom my father had brought with him from Santa Vitaria. Abelino conducted us to the farm.

When we arrived at the farm, a man with a hoe on his shoulder told us to enter. We ran into the orchard with Abelino, Acacia and Con­ceicao. While the man was gathering the fruit for Acacia, the other children, without the knowl­edge of our three guides, began to gather big peaches and plums, which they placed in their baskets. I saw them plainly. Their little baskets were nearly full, and only mine was empty. Just then I was standing under a peach tree. Look­ing up, I saw a big peach, and another, and another-all within reach of my hand. I thought:

"Why cannot I pick some peaches like the other children?" I stretched out my hand to pick a peach, and my fingers had already touched this big velvety peach, when I received the most sweet, calm warning of my New Friend. My arm, suspended in mid-air, was gently lowered by an "invisible hand," which I felt as really as if I had been touched by one of the persons I could see. For I had a better and more clear under­standing of the voice of my New Friend than of the spoken words of Mother Raphael, or Sis­ter Pauline, or Sister Irene, whom I could see when they spoke to me.

I repented immediately and with great sor­row of the big ugly sin that I was about to com­mit; and a great pity for the good Jesus filled my heart as I thought of the great big thorn that I had nearly hammered into His sacred head. That night, as I lay in bed, I wept bit­terly after I had begged forgiveness from the good Jesus, from Our Lady and from my New Friend. (This custom of begging forgiveness of my New Friend I kept up until I was fourteen years old.)

In one of her instructions Sister Irene had spoken to us about a young boy who died and was sentenced to suffer in Purgatory because of the lies he had told during life. Up to that time I had not known the meaning of a lie, and I imagined that the poor boy had committed a very big sin to deserve such a punishment. How­ever, my New Friend would give me the expla­nation very soon.

The Broken Glass - Each afternoon I was accustomed to go with Acacia and the neighborhood children to buy milk. Each child brought along a little glass wrapped in a napkin. I had a very pretty green glass decorated with a golden wing and spotted with little stars. It was Captain Barcelos [a family friend] who had given it to me.

One of my companions took a great liking to my glass and said to me, "Give me your glass and you can drink milk from mine." Acacia, overhearing this, said, "No, my little lady, each one must drink milk from her own glass." My companion made no answer, and it seemed that she accepted the denial without bitterness. We continued walking for a short time when sud­denly my companion turned toward me and gave a violent tug to my napkin, so that the glass fell to the ground and broke into little pieces. With the same speed that she did this she ran toward Acacia, who had gone ahead of us, and said: "Acacia, Cecy was in such a rage because you did not allow her to exchange glasses with me that she just threw hers on the ground and broke it purposely." Naturally, Aca­cia was highly indignant and she said to me:

"What a beautiful way to act, my little angry puppy! Now you can do without a glass and without milk. While the others drink milk, you can watch them!"

Everything happened so quickly that it was all over before I realized what had happened. But then I became so angry and revengeful that I was just about to run after my companion in order to break her glass, when my New Friend entered into action, holding me back in the same manner as when he hindered me from stealing the fruit. And I heard clearly the warn­ing of my New Friend: "Your poor companion has committed two big sins." The first, which referred to the breaking of the glass, I did not at that time understand. But the second-ah, I suddenly understood that the second sin was the lie told to Acacia, the same kind of sin for which the young boy was punished. Yes, my com­panion had lied to Acacia, who thought that everything had happened as it was told to her. Now I understood perfectly the meaning of a lie. I said to my New Friend: "Now I know. It would be a lie if I were to break a glass and afterward tell my mother I did not do it."

We finally arrived at the place where we were accustomed to buy the milk, and I forgot to tell Acacia that it was not I who had broken the glass. Perhaps it was because my New Friend was with me and I respected his presence even more than I respected the presence of Mother Raphael, Sister Irene and Sister Pauline, the authority of these being supreme in my eyes. Acacia, however, always allowed me to have what I wanted; so she gave me milk from my sister's glass.

Thus it was that my New Friend hindered me from committing the ugly and low sin of vengeance

Oh my holy Guardian Angel, if I were to tell all that you have done for me, a big book would not contain the account of all your holy inspirations.

Modesty, the Handmaid of Purity - If my New Friend had not filled me with the greatest respect for his holy presence, I think that I should have acquired at an early age care­less habits, more or less immodest. I realized perfectly well, when I was in the presence of the Sisters or of other persons for whom I had great respect, that I should be careful of the postures I assumed. But I learned to be even more careful when I was alone, for then I felt myself being observed by my New Friend Until I was eight years of age it was Acacia who dressed and bathed me, combed my hair, put me to bed and called me in the morning. I had learned to rely on her too much; so it was not until I was ten or eleven that I dis­pensed completely with her services in this regard.

Oftentimes, on getting up in the morn­ing and dressing myself-for example, putting on my stockings-I was not careful of my posi­tion or of my dress. At such times I immedi­ately felt the holy presence of my Guardian Angel so vividly, without ever seeing him, and I so strongly felt his reproval of my improper posture, that, being thoroughly ashamed, I would close my eyes lest I see his holy face regarding me sternly.

This scene was repeated innumerable times, sometimes when I was alone, other times when I was in the midst of the most interesting games. Through the grace of the good God I do not remember ever resisting these holy warnings of my New Friend, even though oftentimes I had to subdue my rebellious nature, filled with bad inclinations as it was.

On one occasion my father took us to see a military celebration in Rio Grande do Sul. I was delighted when I saw that there anyone could ride on horseback. Women and children were doing it. I had never ridden except once or twice when my father had seated me on his horse named "Congo". At this celebration, I had my heart set on riding. A certain lieutenant was taking care of me, and he brought me a beau­tiful little pony. This filled me with happiness. He placed me astride the pony as if I were a boy, and I had just begun to pull on the reins when I heard and felt the warning of my New Friend just as vividly as I heard and perceived the lieutenant. [Since God had chosen Cecy for intimate union with Him­self during her earthly life, her Guardian Angel was charged with the duty of preserving her from the danger of even the slightest fault against modesty.]

My New Friend did not want me to continue any farther. I felt his holy arm taking me gen­tly from the pony, just as I had previously felt the lieutenant lifting me onto the pony's back. When I reached the ground, I said to the lieu­tenant: "I do not wish to ride any more." The lieutenant admired my seeming agility in dis­mounting from the pony, and he related the fact to my father, who called me cowardly and silly. I should have liked to ride on the pony, but I wanted much more to please my New Friend.

First Communion and the Sensible Presence of Jesus - The great day of my First Holy Communion, October 17, approached very slowly. Before this great event, we made our second Confession. Finally the eve of the holy day arrived. Sister Irene took good care of us. When I returned home, I remained seated in the little rocking chair at the foot of the bureau, preparing the prayers which we should recite in common before and after the visit of Our Lord, as Sis­ter Irene had told us. I did not yet know how to read quickly, and I was accustomed to point out each word with my finger. Sister Irene did not want us to read our prayers, but I wanted to say them perfectly without mispronouncing one word, so that Our Lord could hear and understand me….

…Finally, the seventeenth of October arrived. For me this was a holy date, a date of infinite happiness, a date on which I came to know at first hand-or rather when I welcomed within myself--the good Jesus, the Lord of Heaven, whom a few months before I had known only from the big picture in my mother's bedroom and from the beloved crucifix on the big bureau.

My good Jesus, as I look back, what holy longing fills my soul as I think of how infinitely happy I was on the day of my First Communion! That was the first time, oh my God, that I felt really and vividly within myself Thy most holy presence, Thy Real Pres­ence. It was indeed well that I waited for Thee, oh my Jesus, and I was not deceived. I knew that I would feel Thee in me, not as I perceived and felt the presence of my New Friend, but as if Thou, oh my God, were I myself, and as if I myself were Thou. You in me and I in Thee. Thy soul in my soul, Thy heart in my heart! Two souls in only one soul! Two hearts in only one heart! The great omnipo­tent God and His miserable little creature! I do not know how to describe how much I loved Thee at that moment, and how much You, oh great God, have loved me. Only we two, Jesus and His little "Cece," can know this. Oh good and most faithful Jesus, thirty long years have passed since then, and still we love each other very much; infinitely more today, is it not so, oh my God? From that day I felt always, always, Thy most holy presence in me, until the past year, when Thou did leave Thy little ser­vant immersed in the most sorrowful abandonment, in the most sorrowful longing. However, may Thy most holy will be fulfilled in Thy little creature! It is true that even in the novitiate You hid Yourself from me at times, but soon, very soon, I did find Thee.

The Oath of Fidelity - On that sacred day of my First Communion, October 17, 1906, after I had returned home, accompanied not only by my New Friend, but bearing within me my Divine Guest, I desired most ardently to lock myself in my little room and there to remain alone with my God. 1 had so many things to say to Him, so many favors to ask from Him. I desired to clasp Him to my heart, to protest my love to Him, to make Him innumerable promises. But alas! Acacia was there waiting for me, ready to take me to the house of my grandmother and my godmother. I went with her, but very soon returned home.

When Acacia had taken off my white dress and the veil with its wreath of flowers, I asked her to let me wear one of my Sunday dresses, because I was thinking of the Great Visitor I was entertaining. Dressed once more, I ran to my room and sat in my little chair quietly, seriously, respect­fully, using my best manners; and I began to make acts of love-many acts of love-to my God. I embraced myself, because in me I embraced Jesus. A thousand promises of love and fidelity I made to Him in my childish lan­guage, and I knew that Jesus understood me very well-much better than my father or mother.

I felt so vividly within me the presence of my God, though in a manner much different from the way I perceived my New Friend. It was as if I myself were the good Jesus-He, my Divine Guest, listened to me without being bored. And I, without hearing His holy voice, listened atten­tively and lovingly to what Jesus wished from His little servant: that I never, never commit even one sin, so that He, Jesus, might never be separated from me-not even once, not even for one moment!

Then getting up from the chair, I knelt down and made a little cross with my two index fin­gers. This I kissed in my childish simplicity and said with the most firm resolution: "Oh good and beloved Jesus, I swear to Thee, my Lord, that I do not want ever to commit any sin." This was the first and only oath that I ever took in the world. Perhaps I did not understand the immense obligation that I assumed. I cannot say, but I do know this much: I made this oath moved by a great desire never to offend the good God. Until today I kept this oath as a secret in my heart. I never revealed it to any­one. I took this oath while Jesus was within me and my New Friend was at my side.

And this is the moment when I reveal my secret.

Jesus, the good Jesus, accepted and guarded in His most Sacred Heart this oath of a weak crea­ture; and through His grace He took care that this oath was never broken, even to this date.

Oh my God, please continue to take care of Thy little spouse. Enclose in Thy most Sacred Heart until my last breath this oath which I made to Thee with such great love and sincerity.”

 

 

The source for this information is the wonderful Autobiography “Under Angel Wings”. See link at the top of this article on how to obtain it. Later in the narrative, we read how her Guardian Angel would spread forth his wings and shield her from viewing the bathers at the beach, and also certain movies at the movie theater, always keeping a close watch over her modesty and purity.

Sister Maria Antonia died a holy death on the night of April 24, 1939, at age 40.

Sister Maria Antonia, pray for us!

 

"My holy and most faithful New Friend, only today do I realize the innumerable dangers to which I was exposed in this evil world, and from which I escaped unharmed, solely on the account of the special grace of my God, and thy most faithful protection. Oh my God, may You be eternally glorified in the weakness of Thy little creature! And to thee, my New Friend, I give my grateful love, the love of thy little sister and friend. Amen." -Sister Maria Antonia writing shortly before her death