The Curtain Falls

Pope Benedict is the fourth Pope of my lifetime, but the first to ascend the Throne of Peter during my adulthood; yet when I think of him, I feel as though I am one of the kids in this picture.  I always felt a more personal attachment to this Pope than to his predecessor, even though the latter's reign began when I was eight, and ended when I was 34.  Pope John Paul II traveled extensively and visited his flock all over the world; yet in a way, his rock-star charisma made him seem more remote and inaccessible, at least to me.  Benedict has always seemed closer, more fatherly and down-to-earth, even with his staggering intellect and long list of books and scholarly achievements.  I have often thought that if I were to meet Pope Benedict face-to-face, I would cry like a baby.  The sun has now set on the last full day of his reign, and -- barring a miracle -- I will not meet him in this life; I will cry like a baby anyway.

Some people think that by abdicating, the Holy Father is running out on his family.  If he had decided to quit being a Catholic, then I think the case for abandonment could be made.  But he is going to stay in the Vatican and devote himself to a life of prayer in the bosom of the Church.  He is no more running out on us than a grandfather does who hands over the active headship of his family to his son, and lives out his days at home amid his loved ones.  Prayer is no less service to the Church than the active life of a reigning Pope, and no less important.  In fact, one of the reasons the Church has suffered so greatly in recent decades is precisely because not enough of her children -- even in religious houses -- have been living lives grounded in prayer.

Prayer will be Pope Benedict's last labor of love for the Church, in whose service he has worn himself out.  The hard work, long hours, grueling schedule and -- above all -- the rebellion and intransigence of people even within the Church have sapped the Pope's vitality.  I am still thinking about St. John Bosco's 1862 prophecy of the fallen Pope.  This prophecy seems even more relevant now that the Holy Father has dispensed with the customary waiting period for the beginning of the next conclave.  "But hardly is the Pontiff dead," said Don Bosco, "than another Pope takes his place.  The pilots, having met together, have elected the Pope so promptly that the news of the death of the Pope coincides with the news of the election of the successor."  Who can say yet whether this is the moment referred to?  But if it is, we can find consolation in what comes next: the enemies lose courage, and are ultimately routed.

Within hours, Benedict XVI will cease to be Pope, and the sede vacante will begin.  God bless Pope Benedict, and the new Pope, whoever he is, upon whom will be laid burdens and responsibilities the like of which we will never be asked to assume.

Roman Collars, Iron Men

Servant of God Emil Kapaun celebrates Holy Mass on the hood of a jeep in 1950, less than a month before he was captured by the Communists.

The 68th anniversary of the raising of the Stars and Stripes on Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima seems a fitting moment to announce the news that Servant of God Emil Kapaun will be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his valor during the Korean War.  Father Kapaun, a captain in the U.S. Army, served bravely at the front, but even more bravely and daringly in the Communist prison camp to which he was confined after being captured on November 2, 1950.  The good priest would sneak out of his own compound in order to minister to the other prisoners, and, by the intercession of St. Dismas, the Good Thief, to scrounge for basic necessities to help them survive their hellish conditions.  He got even non-Catholic prisoners praying the Rosary, and also made himself irritating to the Communists by answering them back and openly defying them in their daily forced indoctrination sessions.  For a long time, they did not dare retaliate, for fear of provoking the other prisoners to rebellion; but when Father Kapaun came down with an eye infection and a blood clot in his leg, they seized the opportunity to carry him off to an isolated "hospital" and starve him to death.  His cause for sainthood opened in 2008.

Father Kapaun will be the latest in a line of American military chaplains awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor since World War II, every one of whom was a Catholic priest.  He is the second CMH chaplain to have a cause for sainthood.  The other CMH chaplains are:

Fr. Joseph Timothy O'Callahan, Commander, U.S. Naval Reserve.  Father O'Callahan was the only chaplain to be awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor in World War II, out of 464 recipients.  He was awarded the CMH for his heroism aboard the U.S.S. Franklin under a withering Japanese attack on March 19, 1945.

Fr. Angelo J. Liteky, Captain, U.S. Army.  He was awarded the CMH for ministering to his men, directing medical evacuations, and personally rescuing more than 20 wounded men, all under heavy fire and despite being wounded himself, in Vietnam in December, 1967.

Fr. Charles Joseph Watters, Major, U.S. Army.  He was killed in action in Vietnam on November 19, 1967 while rescuing wounded men and ministering to them under heavy fire.

Servant of God Fr. Vincent Robert Capodanno, Lieutenant, U.S. Navy. On September 4, 1967, Father Capodanno ministered to his men and rescued the wounded under intense fire in Vietnam, refusing to stop even after sustaining serious wounds to his arms and legs and losing part of his right hand.  He finally fell under a burst of machine gun fire.

You can -- and should -- read their citations here.

And there are more brave soldier-priests than just those who have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.  You can read about some of them here, and find out why it is particularly fitting that priests wear the Roman collar, originally a military accoutrement.  May these shepherds in combat boots intercede for our poor country, and for our armed forces, who are being used as a laboratory for social experimentation, and among whom our Catholic chaplains are stretched far too thinly.

P.S. Here is an interesting item on Chesty Puller (an Episcopalian) and his admiration for Catholic chaplains.

The Holy Father Steps Down

Today, I have been thinking about St. John Bosco's 1862 vision of the two pillars, concerning the future trials and tribulations of the Church.  In it, he sees arising out of the sea two great pillars.  One is topped by a statue of the Blessed Virgin with the legend "Auxilium Christianorum" (Help of Christians).  This pillar symbolizes devotion to the Blessed Virgin.  The other, topped by a great Host and the legend "Salus Credentium" (Salvation of the Faithful), symbolizes frequent Communions.  

On the sea, the great Barque of Peter, commanded by the Pope and escorted by a fleet of smaller ships, is being assaulted by many enemy ships, which stand for persecutions.  The battle rages relentlessly, and the Pope's great ship sustains many blows and even great breaches in her hull, yet never sinks.  The enemies, in a frenzy, strive to fight hand to hand, cursing and blaspheming.  Then, says Don Bosco,

All at once the Pope falls gravely wounded.  Immediately, those who are with him run to help him and they lift him up.  A second time the Pope is struck, he falls again and dies.  A shout of victory and of joy rings out amongst the enemies; from their ships an unspeakable mockery arises.

The Church is full of enemies within, near enough to fight hand to hand.  How many within the Church there are, even among bishops and priests, who hate and despise the Holy Father and openly defy him.  He has not been safe even within his own household.  Some of the Pope's enemies publicly demanded his resignation.  How they must be crowing tonight over the end of his reign.  Will they have the last laugh?  Don Bosco:

But hardly is the Pontiff dead than another Pope takes his place.  The pilots, having met together, have elected the Pope so promptly that the news of the death of the Pope coincides with the news of the election of the successor.  The adversaries begin to lose courage.

The new Pope, putting the enemy to rout and overcoming every obstacle, guides the ship right up to the two columns and comes to rest between them; he makes it fast with a light chain that hangs from the bow to an anchor of the column on which stands the Host; and with another light chain which hangs from the stern, he fastens it at the opposite end to another anchor hanging from the column on which stands the Immaculate Virgin.  

Then the enemy ships are put to confusion and chaos, scattering and wrecking each other; meanwhile, other ships, some of which had retreated during the battle, approach and also fasten themselves to the two pillars.  Then a great calm descends over the sea.

Is Pope Benedict XVI the slain Pope in this vision?  Who can say, until the events precipitated by today's stunning announcement have unfolded?  We can only completely understand prophecies in their fulfillment.  But whether or not we are witnessing the actual events Don Bosco describes in his dream, there are lessons to be taken from it:

-- God is in charge.

-- The enemies of the Barque of Peter will never sink her, try as they might.

-- God is in charge.

-- We have been provided with the means necessary to overcome our present trials, if only we will avail ourselves of them: devotion to Mary and frequent Communions.

-- God is in charge.

Have I mentioned that God is in charge?  God bless our present Holy Father -- and he is still the Holy Father, until the end of the month.  The liberals hoped the successor of John Paul II would be a mere "caretaker Pope" who would be out of touch and not rock the boat, and under whom they could start things sliding back their way.  To their consternation, however, Pope Benedict has done great things for the Church, out of all proportion to the length of his reign.  Among other things, he has restored the Mass of Tradition and the traditional forms of the Sacraments and the Breviary, thus suddenly making the life work of the Bugninians merely optional; and he has opened a path of re-entry into the Church for the long-sundered Anglicans.  

I am sad that Pope Benedict intends not to die in harness, and that some will view him as a coward and a shirker for not staying on the throne of Peter to the end.  I do not want to see this set a precedent.  On the other hand, we are not in a position to know all that the Holy Father knows, and see all that he sees, and I believe that he sees farther and deeper than most.  Perhaps he is taking the extraordinary step of abdicating in order to avert some great evil that would otherwise come as a result of others assuming more of his responsibilities as he grows weaker and sicker.  Or perhaps he is abdicating because he foresees wrenching trials in the immediate future that only a younger and/or stronger man can cope with.  I would not rule out the possibility that he has some insight into who that man will be, and that he is making way for his successor so that the latter can take over while still in his prime.

I say again, God bless our Holy Father, Benedict, the sixteenth of that name.  And God bless the man who will succeed him.

P.S. I will venture a couple of predictions.  (1) The next Pope will be Raymond Cardinal Burke.  (2) He will take the name of Benedict XVII, to signal his intention of continuing the work of Benedict XVI.  Meanwhile, God's will be done.

Opus Bono Sacerdotii

Did you know that many priests are in trouble, even here in the U.S.?  There are priests in prison, some deservedly, some not; priests with legal difficulties, some deserved, some not; priests excluded from ministry, justifiably or not, who are without means of support; priests in spiritual, emotional or mental crisis; priests in financial trouble; and -- perhaps most heartbreaking -- elderly, infirm priests living in destitution because their dioceses do not, for one reason or another, take care of them.  Consider the testimony of one of these, Father Charles:

I’m 82 years old and have been a Catholic priest for a very long time. I am a priest in good standing and have been retired for some time now. Because of my infirmities (I am also blind in one eye), I am no longer able to offer Mass or administer the sacraments at the local parishes where I would receive a stipend to help supplement my Social Security of $670. I am paying rent on a small apartment. We are a small diocese and have no money to give priests like me who can’t work anymore at the parishes....I do have health insurance, but the co-pays for prescriptions and doctors visits are hard for me to manage. I am really afraid that I will have to stop taking my medicine. 

Why are so many priests in dire straits?  It is true that, like other men, priests can be their own worst enemies.  But whether or not particular priests are in distress through their own fault, it is also true that, good or bad, they are Other Christs, chosen and set aside to exercise His power on earth.  A bad priest will have a lot to answer for before God, but the Mass he offers is still valid; the Sacraments he administers are still efficacious.  When we are at death's door, we will be thankful to have a priest hasten to our bedside, and will not ask whether he has led a good life.  

Surely the reason so many priests are in dire straits is that we in the pews have stopped loving these men as the spiritual fathers that they are.  There is no question that many of the alleged "reforms" in the Church have served to obscure the special dignity and fatherhood of priests, and diminish their standing in the eyes of their flocks.  For example, did we have the problem of elderly priests living in penury and loneliness before pastors started being transferred from parish to parish?  Here indeed is some of the "fresh air" we let in by opening the windows of the Church onto the world: the contempt of society at large for fathers has infested the Church, until parishes resemble the broken, fatherless families increasingly prevalent in the West.  Instead of parishes having fathers, who by definition are permanent fixtures in healthy families, they have an endless parade of step-fathers.  With priests coming and going, neither they nor their parishioners have long-term stakes in each other’s well-being.  This is an inescapable reality, regardless of the good will of either priest or parishioners.  It’s time to re-examine this policy of constantly uprooting priests.  

The destitution of priests is also a fruit of secularization within the Church.  The priesthood is viewed even by some priests as a job or a career, rather than a calling, so that the priest is useful only for as long as he can continue in active ministry.  How many local churches have, for years and years, been run primarily along business lines, by bishops who act more like middle management bureaucrats than shepherds of souls?  Small wonder that charity runs cold, and trust in Divine Providence occupies the back burner, if indeed it is to be found on the stove at all.

But we shouldn't look to the chanceries for the solution to the problem of abandoned priests.  It is the laity's responsibility to support the Church and her ministers, and for too long, we have looked to bureaucracies, whether religious or secular, to handle problems that we should be taking care of ourselves.  Fortunately, some laymen who take their responsibility seriously have formed an association to come to the aid of priests in distress.  Opus Bono Sacerdotii -- Work for the Good of the Priesthood -- is an apostolate that reaches out to priests in need with concrete assistance, both corporal and spiritual.  Among other things, they provide financial assistance to priests struggling to support themselves; support to priests in prison; counseling for priests in crisis; consolation for friendless priests; even, in some rare cases, suicide watches for priests in despair.  This apostolate is worthy of support, and needs all the (tax-deductible) donations it can get.  

We still need a reform of the "reforms" of the last half-century in the Church.  In addition to the reforms in the liturgy and in the government of the Church that our present Holy Father has introduced, I vote we also get rid of the game of musical pastors.  Priests should resume their status as spiritual fathers by staying in one parish permanently, and living in the rectory. Then, when a priest gets older and his health begins to fail him, he should not be ruthlessly put out of the way to make room for fresh blood, but continue to live there as a mentor to younger priests, exercising his ministry to the extent he still can, for as long as he can, all the while having his needs looked after by his spiritual children, in whose loving care he dies. That would be in line both with charity and subsidiarity.  

Meanwhile, we should not wait for reforms in canon law to take care of our troubled priest.  We can, and should, support Opus Bono Sacerdotii with both alms and prayer, right now.

Edwarda O'Bara: Confounding the Wise and the Strong

But the foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that He may confound the wise; and the weak things of the world hath God chosen, that He may confound the strong. 1 Corinthians 1:27.

Edwarda O'Bara had dreams of becoming a pediatrician.  But in 1970, the year she turned 17, Edwarda took a course that neither she nor her family could have anticipated.  After being rushed to the hospital during an illness, she slipped into a diabetic coma.  She would never come out of that coma, but she would live another 42 years, finally passing away at home on November 21, 2012 at the age of 59.

Judging by the world's standards, Edwarda's was a wasted life, unworthy of being allowed to continue.  But fortunately for her, and for an ungrateful world, Edwarda belonged to a family of devout Catholics who never ceased caring for her up until the moment of her natural death, despite mounting debts and other trials.  Before losing consciousness, Edwarda made her mother, Kaye, promise never to leave her side; Kaye kept that promise until 2008, when she died at the age of 80.

Why was this fortunate for the world?  Because those who suffer in Christ draw down countless blessings and graces from heaven.  It is precisely for this reason that St. Faustina said that it was an unfortunate convent that had no sick sisters.  The same can be said for any family or society that does not have or care for sick and suffering members.  To repudiate these crosses is to despise grace; and to despise grace is to incite God's wrath.  That is what our aborting, contracepting, euthanizing society is doing right now.  It is putting us on the greased skids to hell.

The magnitude of our folly is shown by the lives that Edwarda touched.  Many who are active in the world fail to produce anything like the fruits that she produced merely by lying helpless in bed.  Her mother's steadfast, sacrificial love was an inspiration to many who came in from all over the world to visit the daughter who was the object of such love.  Her sister, Colleen, who gave up her career in order to care for her after their mother died, sums up what Edwarda herself accomplished.  "She taught me so much," said Colleen, "and I'm talking about now, after she was in the coma. She taught me so much about unconditional love that I couldn't say I had it before. She taught me about patience, that I didn't have before. I learned so much from taking care of my sister. It's like I grew up overnight."  Imagine how much poorer and worse off our already pathetic world would be if Edwarda O'Bara's family had followed the "wisdom" of the culture of death.

The O'Bara family is asking for help to pay for Edwarda's funeral, which will take place on Wednesday.  They probably also have an Everest of medical bills to pay.  Donations can be sent to the Edwarda O'Bara Fund, P.O. Box 693482, Miami FL 33269.

UPDATE: More on Edwarda O'Bara's extraordinary story.

November 23: Bl. Miguel Pro, S.J. (Re-Post)

Here is a comparatively rare event in the history of the Church: a camera is witness to a martyrdom. The whole affair was orchestrated in 1927 by a fierce enemy of the Church whose savage blows only served to strengthen and glorify both her and the individual victims of his wrath.

A sketch of Bl. Miguel Pro's life brings to mind the story of his spiritual forbears, the martyr-priests in post-Reformation England. Like them, he lived at a time when his nation's leaders turned against the Church. The young Jesuit novice went into exile during the Mexican revolution; like many seminarians during the English persecution, Miguel Pro had to study for the priesthood abroad; he was ordained in Belgium on August 31, 1925. Like his English forbears, Fr. Pro conducted his ministry on the sly, and frequently in disguise.

Fr. Pro was known not only for his devotion and prayerfulness, but also for his wit, his playfulness and his good cheer, especially in the face of a distressing stomach ailment. He was much loved; however, he was eventually betrayed to the authorities and ultimately condemned to death on a trumped-up charge of attempting to assassinate the vice-president.

On the day of Fr. Pro's execution by firing squad, the fiercely anti-Catholic president Plutarcho Calles brought the press out to photograph the event, secure in the belief that he would thereby prove that impending death reduced Catholics to sniveling cowards. In the first photograph above, we see Fr. Pro praying, the picture of serenity in the face of the violent death from which he is only moments away. The next photograph shows Fr. Pro confronting the firing squad, sans blindfold, his arms raised in the form of the cross, with a crucifix in one hand and a rosary in the other. Fr. Pro forgave his executioners; and as they took aim, he shouted his last words, "¡Viva Cristo Rey! (Long live Christ the King!)." The firing squad was so shaken by his courage that it succeeded only in wounding him; in the final photograph, a soldier dispatches the fallen priest at point-blank range.

Naturally, these photographs had the opposite effect to that intended; Plutarcho Calles ended up confiscating and outlawing them. And Calles obviously did not succeed in entirely destroying the camera's witness to Fr. Pro's courage, since they survive down to the present day.

Chaplet of Bl. Miguel Pro

Blessed Miguel, before your death, you told your friend to ask you for favors when you were in Heaven. I beg you to intercede for me and in union with Our Lady and all the angels and saints, to ask Our Lord to grant my petition, provided that it be God's Will. [Mention the request.]

We honor and adore the triune God. Glory be...

We ask the Holy Spirit for guidance. Come Holy Spirit...

We pray as Jesus taught us to pray. Our Father...
We venerate with love the Virgin Mary. Hail Mary...
All you angels, bless you the Lord forever.
Saint Joseph, Saint [name of your patron], and all the saints, pray for us.

Blessed Miguel, high spirited youth, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, loving son and brother, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, patient novice, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, exile from your homeland, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, prayerful religious, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, sick and suffering, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, defender of workers, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, courageous priest in hiding, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, prisoner in jail, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, forgiver of persecutors, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!
Blessed Miguel, holy martyr, pray for us. ¡Viva Cristo Rey!

More on the Travesty of "Brain Death"

Nicholas Coke was born in 2009 without higher brain functions.  This is because all he had was his brain stem.  He was not expected to survive more than a few hours.  Indeed Nicholas did die -- two years and 11 months later.  Today, the Solemnity of All Saints, Nicholas Coke breathed his last.  

Nicholas defies the culture of death.  Having no brain, was he not "brain dead"?  Shouldn't he have been aborted?  Shouldn't his organs have been harvested for the sake of "worthier" children?  Yet his heart beat on its own; he breathed on his own; he could take nourishment and medication; he could respond to treatment; he moved; he grew; he smiled.  Persons who are dead can do none of these things, with or without machines, to which Nicholas was never hooked up.  Nicholas could neither see nor hear, but he gave signs of awareness that he was being held.  Clearly, the child had a soul, and was therefore very much alive, even though his faculties were severely impaired.  He had a soul, with all the gifts of the soul, dormant though they were in his frail body, even though he literally had no brain.  That is not supposed to be possible -- yet there he was!  Thank God Nicholas was born into a family that cherished his life.  He was surrounded by love, and touched hearts in his turn.

Nicholas Coke is not only a testament to love and life, but also a rebuke and a warning.  He is a rebuke to the arrogance of a society that purports to redefine death for the sake of convenience.  He is a warning that we have made ourselves the enemies of what God holds dear, and that sooner or later we will have Him to reckon with.

Benghazi

Some things to remember on Election Day.

On September 11, 2012, a horde of terrorists assaulted the U.S. Consulate in Benghazi, Libya, murdering our ambassador, J. Christopher Stevens; U.S. Foreign Service Information Management Officer Sean Smith; and two former Navy SEALs, Glen Doherty and Tyrone Woods.       This attack coincided not only with the 11th anniversary of 9/11, but also with the storming of our embassy in Cairo.  Aided and abetted by the media, the administration portrayed these outrages as having been provoked by a purportedly anti-Islamic film uploaded to YouTube, the producer of which was rounded up and tossed into jail.   The Secretary of Defense, Leon Panetta, stated that no rescue operation was launched because it was too unclear exactly what was happening. 

This was on Thursday of last week, when we learned that, not only did the White House know the attack was premeditated, and who perpetrated it, but that they were receiving a live video feed of the attack from a drone.  The White House knew what was happening, while it was happening.    Then Friday, we learned that operatives at the CIA annex in Benghazi were not only thrice denied permission to go in and defend the consulate; they were specifically ordered to stand down, and were denied military assistance.   

Two former Navy SEALs, Glen Doherty and Tyrone Woods, defied the order to stand down, along with at least two others.  Tyrone Woods singled out the source of mortar fire on the consulate, and painted it with his laser in the expectation that a missile would come in and take out the target.  "Expectation" is the key word here.  There would be no point in painting a target with a laser unless you were counting on a missile, especially since, by painting the target, you give away your position.  Tyrone Woods had reason to believe a missile would be forthcoming.  No missile came.  The mortars were not taken out.  Tyrone Woods was killed by mortar fire.

The Obama administration's response to this casus belli rises only from the mendacious to the buffoonish.  When the bodies of our slain embassy personnel were brought back to the United States, their families -- who did not plan to comment publicly until the White House's real-time knowledge became known -- were nonplussed at the apparent lack of concern on the part of the President and top members of his administration.  To the father of Tyrone Woods, the Vice President of the United States said: "Did your son always have balls the size of cue balls?"

How appropriate that the Obama flag logo has as much class as the Vice President, and looks like blood smears.

A Birthday in Heaven

Tonight, as I happen to be watching A Man for All Seasons, I have been reminded that, although St. Thomas More's feast is June 22d on the new calendar, the anniversary of his martyrdom is today, July 6th.

St. Thomas, who gave his life to vindicate the rights of St. Peter, died on the Utas of St. Peter -- the eighth day after the feast of Peter.  His headless body was buried in a mass grave in the church of St. Peter ad Vincula -- St. Peter in Chains.

Venerable Fulton J. Sheen

On the same day as the announcement that Obamacare has survived in the Supreme Court, we receive the news of the decree that Servant of God Fulton J. Sheen was possessed of heroic virtues, and thus will henceforth be Venerable Fulton J. Sheen. 

Unless there is a Good Friday in your life, there can be no Easter Sunday.

-- Ven. Fulton J. Sheen

¡Viva Cristo Rey!

I come home tonight, a little queasy from the greasy popcorn that was my dinner, after seeing For Greater Glory.  I hereby mount the bandwagon of bloggers who think every Catholic ought to see this movie -- including the credits, all the way to the end.  I saw For Greater Glory in a theater that I shared with about six other people, illustrating the need to promote by word of mouth this independently-made film that enjoys the backing of no major studios in post-Christian Hollywood.

For Greater Glory is about the 1926-1929 Cristero War in Mexico, a rebellion against Plutarco Calles' brutal persecution of the Catholic Church.  The Catholic forces made mistakes and had plenty of sinners in their ranks, including priests who actually took up arms, thereby excluding themselves, if not from heaven, at least from potential causes for canonization.  Indeed, the most unlikely people found their way into the ranks of the Cristeros, especially Enrique Gorostieta (played by Andy Garcia), the retired liberal atheist general who turned the rebels into an army.   The war did not result in the overthrow of Plutarco Calles, or in total restoration of liberty for the Church; but it did produce many saints and martyrs, including the boy martyr Jose Sanchez del Rio (played by Mauricio Kuri), who was beatified by Pope Benedict during the first year of his reign.  Bl. Miguel Pro, perhaps one of the best-known figures of the war, is not mentioned by name in this film, but there is a scene instantly recognizable as a re-enactment of his martyrdom.

Why is For Greater Glory worth promoting?  Despite liberties taken with the history for the sake of drama, it is a worthy film in every respect.  There is certainly violence, resulting in an R rating, but the violence does not attain to levels of gratuitousness.  There is no sex, no nudity (in one brief scene, female Cristeros are seen in their underwear, secreting on their persons ammunition for smuggling to the troops), no blue language.  And, for once, Catholics are the good guys, and priests are not shown as perverts -- not even Fr. Reyes Vega, who was known not only for his brilliant soldiery but also for his cruelty and his less-than-strict adherence to his priestly obligations.  There are a number of scenes showing the Cristeros at worship.  The Tridentine Mass has a particularly compelling, edgy beauty  when celebrated on the battlefield, or amid ruins, or in a fugitive camp hidden in the desert.  The priest at the altar, with hundreds of scruffy soldiers kneeling behind him, looks like a general leading his troops into battle. Indeed, he is doing precisely that: exercising the priesthood of the baptized, the Cristeros will offer themselves up on the field of battle in union with the Sacrifice of Calvary, for the sake of the Kingdom.  The physical battles of the Cristero War are but the outward, sensible manifestations of the greater spiritual war against the forces of hell; the stakes are nothing less than the eternal destiny of souls.  For Greater Glory is about so much more than freedom in the political order; it is about how individual souls find redemption -- or lose it.     

Finally, For Greater Glory comes out at a time when it has taken on a far greater relevance in the United States than what its makers had anticipated when it was filmed.  Politicians of the same ideological stamp as Plutarco Calles have taken power in this country and have already begun enacting laws that encroach on the freedom of the Church.  In Mexico, Calles' laws against the Church were followed up by brute force; is it not naive to suppose that the same could not happen here?

¡Viva Cristo Rey!  

Planning, Working, and Praying

A tip from the peerless Father Erik has led to about an hour's reading on a subject not inappropriate for Memorial Day: one of America's most colorful and successful generals, George S. Patton.  In view of Patton's work, beliefs, sayings, and general outlook on life, it was perhaps a mercy that he did not long survive the troops who had given their lives under his command, or live to see the fruits of their hard-won victories squandered.  It is not hard to guess what his take would have been on the West's increasing post-war confusion, or the muddle of the Vietnam War, in which his own son, George Patton IV, served as a general, and which our politicians willed to lose. It is tempting to meditate on what would happen if, by some miracle of modern medicine, the elder Patton had lived long enough to find himself under the overlordship of the present occupant of the White House.

One notable incident of Patton's career in the European Theater has become distorted in our sissified, politically correct times, and needs to be set straight.  The 1970 movie Patton contains a scene in which the general is shown bullying a chaplain into praying for good weather for killing Germans, against the chaplain's conscience.  The chaplain in question -- Msgr. James H. O'Neill, Chief Chaplain of the Third Army -- told a rather different story in an account he wrote in 1950, which was published 21 years later in Review of the News, when Msgr. O'Neill was a retired brigadier general.  He describes General Patton as a devout and practicing Episcopalian, possessing "all the traits of military leadership, fortified by genuine trust in God, intense love of country, and high faith In the American soldier"; he describes himself, the allegedly bullied chaplain, as not at all reluctant to carry out his commander's wishes in the matter of the prayer.

The story begins, interestingly enough, on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, 1944.  Disturbed by the unrelenting, torrential rain that hampered his war effort, Patton called up the Chief Chaplain and asked him if there was a prayer for good weather.  Not finding an appropriate prayer, the chaplain undertook to compose his own:

Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee, of Thy great goodness, to restrain these immoderate rains with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for Battle. Graciously hearken to us as soldiers who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies and establish Thy justice among men and nations.

Chaplain O'Neill typed the final draft of this prayer on a 5"x3" filing card, along with a Christmas message to the troops from Patton, and presented it to the general, who affixed his signature to the Christmas message and ordered the printing of a quarter of a million copies for distribution to every man in the Third Army.

Then Patton asked O'Neill a question that would probably get a commanding officer in today's Army court-martialed: how much praying was being done in the Third Army?  When told that not much prayer was going on, Patton said:

Chaplain, I am a strong believer in prayer. There are three ways that men get what they want; by planning, by working, and by praying. Any great military operation takes careful planning, or thinking. Then you must have well-trained troops to carry it out: that's working. But between the plan and the operation there is always an unknown. That unknown spells defeat or victory, success or failure. It is the reaction of the actors to the ordeal when it actually comes. Some people call that getting the breaks; I call it God. God has His part, or margin in everything. That's where prayer comes in. Up to now, in the Third Army, God has been very good to us. We have never retreated; we have suffered no defeats, no famine, no epidemics. This is because a lot of people back home are praying for us. We were lucky in Africa, in Sicily, and in Italy. Simply because people prayed. But we have to pray for ourselves, too. A good soldier is not made merely by making him think and work. There is something in every soldier that goes deeper than thinking or working--it's his "guts." It is something that he has built in there: it is a world of truth and power that is higher than himself. Great living is not all output of thought and work. A man has to have intake as well. I don't know what you it, but I call it Religion, Prayer, or God.

Whereupon the general ordered the chaplain to draft a training letter to all the chaplains on the importance of prayer.  "We've got to get not only the chaplains but every man in the Third Army to pray. We must ask God to stop these rains. These rains are that margin that hold defeat or victory."

So Chaplain O'Neill got to work on Training Letter No. 5.  Both it and the prayer cards were distributed to the troops in the Third Army between December 12-14.  On December 16th, the Germans, favored by the poor weather, launched their final offensive of the war through the Ardennes: the Battle of the Bulge.  On the 19th, Patton and his Third Army rushed to Bastogne to meet it; and on the 20th came perfect weather for wave after wave of Allied air attacks on the Germans.  The prayer for good weather was answered, and the Germans were defeated.

What if George S. Patton had lived to observe the state of this country in 2012?  No doubt his prescription would include, among other things, planning, working and -- above all -- praying.  Especially praying: and to hell with any executive orders, acts of Congress, federal regulations, Supreme Court decisions or any other government directives to the contrary.  

Speaking Truth to Totalitarians

The Left is fond of the idea of "speaking truth to power," but what they really mean by it is: leftists destroying traditional institutions, and drowning out the voices of those who support such institutions.  When leftists are in power, and anyone has the temerity to gainsay them, it's a whole different story.

Exhibit A: the European Parliament's responses to British member Nigel Farage, former commodities broker and now leader of the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP).  Here he is last June, addressing the Parliament on the subject of its relationship with reality.  Clearly, they would like nothing better than for Farage to just dry up and blow away.

Here he is again just the other day, on the legitimacy of the EU's authority:

Most sobering of all is this exchange in the Parliament in the wake of the Irish rejection of the Lisbon Treaty in 2008:




After discovering this guy on Dr. Sanity over the weekend, I spent some time watching videos of him giving interviews and addressing the European Parliament.  The sight of Nigel Farage telling the eurocrats where to get off, bursting their bubbles, calling out their totalitarian tactics, and even identifying the "ex" Communists among them -- all right to their faces -- is not only first-class entertainment, but also positively bracing in this age of mealy-mouthed political correctness.  Besides plainly exposing Euro-hypocrisy, Farage's trenchant comments have the additional virtue of eliciting reactions from the eurocrats that cause them to betray their antipathy for liberty, their disdain for the hoi polloi, and their dedication to ideology at the expense of flesh-and-blood human beings. 

I don't pretend to be versed on the ins and outs of Euro-politics, but I do know plain speech when I hear it, and courage when I see it.  It is looking more and more as though the sole virtue of the European Parliament is that it provides a forum for Nigel Farage to speak truth to totalitarians.  May this good work of his soon be no longer needed; and until then, may he keep it up. 

A Prophetic Diagnosis

Ever wonder why the religious orders went so far off the rails?  Since the crisis in the religious life is much in the news with the crackdown on the LCWR, it seems worthwhile to focus attention on the thoughts of Jean Cardinal Daniélou (1905-1974).  Forty years ago, this brave Jesuit gave an interview on Vatican Radio in which he spoke frankly about the insanity that was already blatantly apparent in the religious life, its causes and the necessary remedies.  For this, he was ostracized by his brother Jesuits, and his untimely death was permitted to appear as though it had taken place under compromising circumstances.

The crisis of consecrated life is a worthwhile subject of consideration, for the simple reason that the rot and corruption within convents and priories and monasteries spread far beyond their walls.  St. Paul tells us that when one part of the Body of Christ suffers, the whole Body suffers with it; surely no one can doubt that the infirmities of secular society are intimately linked to those in the religious orders.  A sample of Cardinal Daniélou's brief yet powerful interview:

I think that there is now a very grave crisis of religious life, and that one should not speak of renewal, but rather of decadence. I think that this crisis is hitting the Atlantic area above all. Eastern Europe and the countries of Africa and Asia present in this regard a better state of spiritual health. This crisis is manifesting itself in all areas. The evangelical counsels are no longer considered as consecrations to God, but are seen in a sociological and psychological perspective. We are concerned about not presenting a bourgeois facade, but on the individual level poverty is not practiced. The group dynamic replaces religious obedience; with the pretext of reacting against formalism, all regularity of the life of prayer is abandoned and the first consequence of this state of confusion is the disappearance of vocations, because young people require a serious formation. And moreover there are the numerous and scandalous desertions of religious who renege on the pact that bound them to the Christian people.

Get the whole thing here.

H/T Fr. Philip Neri Powell, O.P.

How to Suffer

This little boy -- shown here a couple of months before his death at the age of 12 -- was never well a day in his life. 

This is an illustration of the profits that can be reaped by means of suffering united to the Cross.  It is far from the picture of squalid, abject meaninglessness the culture of death paints in order to justify murder.  It is just such lives as this that the culture of death, mired in atheism and materialism, says are not worth living.  It is the Garvan Byrnes, who light the way to the world to come, that are targeted for extermination.  


If we go on snuffing out these lights, how can we imagine we will escape retribution?

Divine Mercy Sunday and Lifeboats

My daughter, tell the whole world about My Inconceivable Mercy. I desire that the Feast of Mercy be a refuge and shelter for all souls, and especially for poor sinners. On that day the very depths of My tender Mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the fount of My Mercy.

Diary of St. Faustina

On April 15, 1912, the Divine Mercy reached even the doomed passengers of the "unsinkable" Titanic.  The ship failed to carry the necessary number of lifeboats, but God fitted her out with three lifeboats, each of which could carry to eternal life everyone who approached them: Fr. Joseph Benedikt Peruschitz, O.S.B., a German Benedictine on his way to work at a new monastic school in Minnesota; Fr. Juozas Montvila, a young Lithuanian priest on his way to take over a parish in America (the location is in dispute); and Fr. Thomas Byles, an English priest on his way to officiate at his brother's wedding in New York.  All of these priests refused seats on lifeboats, preferring to help the other passengers to safety, hear confessions, grant absolution, and prepare those who were to die to meet God.  When last seen, Fr. Byles was leading the doomed passengers in the Rosary.  How fitting that the last Masses these martyrs of charity celebrated was the Mass for Low Sunday -- what would later become today's Feast of Divine Mercy.

A religious on board the Titanic escaped via lifeboat -- the lifeboat of obedience.  Br. Francis Browne, S.J., boarded the ship at Southampton for Cobh, Ireland.  He fell in with some wealthy passengers who offered to pay his way to America.  When he wired his provincial for permission to continue on to the States, he received the terse reply: "Get off that ship."  Because he obeyed, Br. Browne was not aboard the Titanic during its fatal collision with the iceberg in the north Atlantic.  He went on to be ordained into the priesthood, and served as a military chaplain with Fr. Willie Doyle, S.J., the saintly Trench Priest of World War I, extending the Divine Mercy even into the hell of No Man's Land.  Fr. Browne died in 1960; to the end of his days he carried in his wallet the wireless message that had saved his life through religious obedience.

Look for God's Mercy in every situation.  Every situation.  It really is there.

Nec Laudibus Nec Timore: Bl. Clemens von Galen

It does not seem that very many people have heard of Bl. Clemens August Graf von Galen.  He gets short shrift in popular histories of the Nazi era: in William Shirer's The Nightmare Years: 1930-1940, for example, he rates one sentence in one footnote; in The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, by the same author, he gets less than that; he gets no mention at all in Wallace Deuel's People under Hitler, or in Winston Churchill's multivolume war memoirs.  At the time of his beatification in 2005, the only English-language biography of Bl. von Galen was one that subjected him to revisionist vilification similar to that which has been leveled at Ven. Pius XII since the 1960s.  Yet throughout the Hitler years, few opponents of religious persecution, racialism, state-sponsored thievery and euthanasia were as outspoken and forthright as Bl. Clemens von Galen.  At a time when the Catholic Church is again beset by both moral confusion from within and increasing attack and encroachment from without, Bl. von Galen should be looked to both as an example for and as a patron to the faithful, and especially clergy, who struggle to do the right thing.

Clemens August von Galen was born in 1878 into a noble Catholic family which, for centuries, had given the Church many priests and bishops.  He was ordained to the priesthood in 1904, and was for years a big-city pastor.  He was an imposing figure both in body (at 6 feet 7 inches tall) and in personality.  His piety -- founded on penance, study, and deep devotions to the Blessed Virgin, the Sacred Heart, the Rosary, the Stations of the Cross, and Holy Scripture -- was as straightforward and uncomplicated as his world view, which was pervaded by a sense of the supernatural.  He was known for his sense of duty, his kindliness, and his accessibility, and also scorned for his staunch traditionalism, his opposition to the increasing secularization of public life, and his rejection of the notion that the Church must change in order to become more "relevant" to the modern world.  One critic faulted him for being "entirely 13th century."  The apostolic nuncio went so far as to complain to then-Vatican Secretary of State Eugenio Pacelli (later Pope Pius XII) that von Galen possessed an "overbearing attitude, stubbornness and too schoolmasterly a manner for a simple pastor."  Even the Holy See was not enthusiastic about the idea of giving von Galen a position of responsibility in the Church in Germany.  

So it was with dismay that many received the news of his elevation to the bishopric of Münster in 1933 -- the same year that Hitler came to power.  In calling for the intervention of the Holy Spirit upon his accession to the episcopal throne, von Galen's critics failed to recognize that this deplored accession was itself precisely the Spirit's intervention.  While the devil arrayed his army for battle, God was not idle in preparing His counteroffensive.  This purportedly overbearing, stubborn, doctrinaire and inflexible cleric was precisely what was needed in that time and place.  Von Galen let it be immediately and unambiguously known that human respect would have no part in his government of affairs in his diocese when he took as his episcopal motto Nec laudibus nec timore: "Neither praise nor fear."

Bishop von Galen lost no time becoming a thorn in Hitler's side.  One of his first acts as the Shepherd of Münster was to establish perpetual Eucharistic adoration in a centrally located parish in the diocese.  To prevent the seduction of his sheep, he studied Nazi literature and repeatedly publicly challenged the tenets of Nazi doctrine.  He publicly protested Nazi initiatives to the authorities.  When government officials seized convents and monasteries, turning their inhabitants out into the streets, the bishop called them thieves and robbers to their faces.  After failing to prevent a rally in Münster headed by Alfred Rosenberg, the official Nazi party "philosopher," Bishop von Galen responded the next day with a huge procession of his own.  

Again and again, Bishop von Galen courted martyrdom, fully expecting it -- perhaps even hoping for it -- at any moment.  At a sermon given at St. Lambert's in Münster on July 13, 1941, he said:

None of us is safe — and may he know that he is the most loyal and conscientious of citizens and may he be conscious of his complete innocence —  he cannot be sure that he will not some day be deported from his home, deprived of his freedom and locked up in the cellars and concentration camps of the Gestapo. I am aware of the fact: This can happen also to me, today or some other day. And because then I shall not be able to speak in public any longer, I will speak publicly today, publicly I will warn against the continuance in a course which I am firmly convinced will bring down God's judgment on men and must lead to disaster and ruin for our people and our country.

But because von Galen had so much prestige, and was so much loved by the people of Münster, the Nazis never dared to touch him, although they longed to be rid of him.  Even the officers of the Gestapo -- of which he was an outspoken critic -- feared to take their lives into their hands by allowing the residents of Münster to see them carting their beloved bishop off to concentration camp.  To the bishop's dismay, they preferred to retaliate against his priests, of whom a number were sent to concentration camps, some never to return.  After the war, upon his return from the consistory where he was created a cardinal, von Galen affectionately chided the people of Münster for their great love and support which had deprived him of the crown of martyrdom.

The centerpiece of von Galen's episcopate was three sermons he gave during 1941, when Hitler's power was at its height.  Despite Nazi censorship of Catholic writings, these homilies were printed, and copies smuggled all over the Reich and beyond.  They electrified the world, and inspired opponents of the Hitler regime.  The Allies used them in their propaganda campaign against Nazism, and the Pope himself approved them in the strongest terms.  The good bishop fully expected to be arrested after preaching these sermons, but still the regime did not dare to touch him, contenting itself instead with rounding up 24 of his secular priests and 13 religious priests.

The first sermon is the one quoted above from July 13, 1941.  In it, the bishop denounces the expulsion of religious communities from Westphalia and the confiscation of their houses, and exposes the hypocrisy of the authorities in the matter of summary "justice."  This homily had an answer for those who took his denunciations during wartime as unpatriotic and subversive.  It is instructive for those who denounce as "counterproductive" the punishing of dissidents within the Church, or the raising of Catholic voices against present-day injustices:

My Christians! It will perhaps be held against me that by this frank statement I am weakening the home front of the German people during this war. I, on the contrary, say this: It is not I who am responsible for a possible weakening of the home front, but those who regardless of the war, regardless of this fearful week of terrible air-raids, impose heavy punishments on innocent people without the judgment of a court or any possibility of defence, who evict our religious orders, our brothers and sisters, from their property, throw them on to the street, drive them out of their own country. They destroy men's security under the law, they undermine trust in law, they destroy men's confidence in our government. And therefore I raise my voice in the name of the upright German people, in the name of the majesty of Justice, in the interests of peace and the solidarity of the home front; therefore as a German, an honourable citizen, a representative of the Christian religion, a Catholic bishop, I exclaim: we demand justice! If this call remains unheard and unanswered, if the reign of Justice is not restored, then our German people and our country, in spite of the heroism of our soldiers and the glorious victories they have won, will perish through an inner rottenness and decay.

On the following Sunday, July 20, 1941, Bishop von Galen delivered what may be thought of as his Hammer and Anvil sermon.  After denouncing in the strongest terms the continuing persecution of the religious orders, the bishop painted a metaphorical picture of a Church under persecution:

Become hard! Remain firm! At this moment we are the anvil rather than the hammer. Other men, mostly strangers and renegades, are hammering us, seeking by violent means to bend our nation, ourselves and our young people aside from their straight relationship with God. We are the anvil and not the hammer. But ask the blacksmith and hear what he says: the object which is forged on the anvil receives its form not alone from the hammer but also from the anvil. The anvil cannot and need not strike back: it must only be firm, only hard! If it is sufficiently tough and firm and hard the anvil usually lasts longer than the hammer. However hard the hammer strikes, the anvil stands quietly and firmly in place and will long continue to shape the objects forged upon it.

The anvil represents those who are unjustly imprisoned, those who are driven out and banished for no fault of their own. God will support them, that they may not lose the form and attitude of Christian firmness, when the hammer of persecution strikes its harsh blows and inflicts unmerited wounds on them....

We are the anvil, not the hammer! Unfortunately you cannot shield your children, the noble but still untempered crude metal, from the hammer-blows of hostility to the faith and hostility to the Church. But the anvil also plays a part in forging. Let your family home, your parental love and devotion, your exemplary Christian life be the strong, tough, firm and unbreakable anvil which absorbs the force of the hostile blows, which continually strengthens and fortifies the still weak powers of the young in the sacred resolve not to let themselves be diverted from the direction that leads to God. 

In the third sermon, delivered on August 3, 1941, Bishop von Galen denounced another horror: the systematic murder of the aged, infirm, crippled and incurably ill.  Since the competent authorities could not be moved to put a stop to these killings, "these unfortunate patients are to die...because in the judgment of some official body, on the decision of some committee, they have become 'unworthy to live,' because they are classed as 'unproductive members of the national community.'"  The following words are no less pertinent to our own brutal time than to the one in which they were originally uttered:

If the principle that men is entitled to kill his unproductive fellow-man is established and applied, then woe betide all of us when we become aged and infirm! If it is legitimate to kill unproductive members of the community, woe betide the disabled who have sacrificed their health or their limbs in the productive process! If unproductive men and women can be disposed of by violent means, woe betide our brave soldiers who return home with major disabilities as cripples, as invalids! If it is once admitted that men have the right to kill "unproductive" fellow-men — even though it is at present applied only to poor and defenceless mentally ill patients — then the way is open for the murder of all unproductive men and women: the incurably ill, the handicapped who are unable to work, those disabled in industry or war. The way is open, indeed, for the murder of all of us when we become old and infirm and therefore unproductive. Then it will require only a secret order to be issued that the procedure which has been tried and tested with the mentally ill should be extended to other "unproductive" persons, that it should also be applied to those suffering from incurable tuberculosis, the aged and infirm, persons disabled in industry, soldiers with disabling injuries!

Then no man will be safe: some committee or other will be able to put him on the list of "unproductive" persons, who in their judgment have become "unworthy to live." And there will be no police to protect him, no court to avenge his murder and bring his murderers to justice.

Who could then have any confidence in a doctor? He might report a patient as unproductive and then be given instructions to kill him! It does not bear thinking of, the moral depravity, the universal mistrust which will spread even in the bosom of the family, if this terrible doctrine is tolerated, accepted and put into practice. Woe betide mankind, woe betide our German people, if the divine commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," which the Lord proclaimed on Sinai amid thunder and lightning, which God our Creator wrote into man's conscience from the beginning, if this commandment is not merely violated but the violation is tolerated and remains unpunished!

These thundering denunciations did not prove to be the end of the career of this wonderful bishop, the Lion of Münster.  He soldiered on throughout the war and even the destruction of his cathedral and his house under Allied bombs.  When American tanks approached, on Easter Sunday, 1945, he personally went out to meet them.  Yet his gratitude for deliverance from the Nazi oppressors did not prevent him from becoming a thorn in the side of the occupying forces who allowed Russian and Polish former slave laborers to run riot and take their revenge upon his people.  Once again, Bishop von Galen lived up to his motto: neither praise nor fear.  Nec laudibus nec timore.

On February 18, 1946, Clemens August Graf von Galen received from the hands of Pope Pius XII the cardinal's red hat, to the acclaim of the whole world.  He was the first Bishop of Münster to be raised to the College of Cardinals.  Yet the Anvil of the Church who had outlasted the hammer of the Hitlerites had reached the close of his earthly career.  On March 22, 1946, six days after his 68th birthday and his return home from Rome, the redoubtable bishop who had survived the Nazi terror, the world war, and the Allies' destruction of his beloved Münster, succumbed to a perforated appendix.  Amid profound grief, Bishop von Galen was laid to rest in the family crypt in Münster's ruined cathedral.  On December 20, 2003, Pope John Paul II declared him Venerable; on October 9, 2005, his fellow countryman, Pope Benedict XVI, beatified him.

Today, Christian civilization, and particularly the Catholic Church, are under assault not only in the Third World but even in its nursery, Europe, and in the New World, which prides itself on its tradition of religious freedom.  But neither the faithful nor their shepherds need to wonder how to handle the threats of the modern world: they have the Lion of Münster to show them how it's done, even under the most extreme circumstances.  As Pope Benedict said in his Angelus message on the day of von Galen's beatification: "[T]he message of Blessed von Galen is ever timely: faith cannot be reduced to a private sentiment or indeed, be hidden when it is inconvenient; it also implies consistency and a witness even in the public arena for the sake of human beings, justice and truth."

Nec laudibus nec timore.

Fr. Guarnizo Sheds Light

The embattled Fr. Marcel Guarnizo has issued a public statement regarding the lesbian-Communion affair and his removal from public ministry in the Archdiocese of Washington.  The entire text of his statement can be found here.

In my first round of comments on this ugly business, I asked what effect the occasion (a funeral) had on the Can. 915 requirement of "manifest grave sin" to justify withholding Communion.  I pointed out that the daughter of the deceased was a prominent attendee of this particular Mass, rather than just another face in the crowd, and that the congregation most likely knew about her lifestyle.  I think Dr. Ed Peters has now answered my question, based on Fr. Guarnizo's public statement.  Addressing Can. 915, Peters says (emphases and comments added):

Prescinding from rarely encountered excommunication and interdict situations, Canon 915 lays out several distinct conditions that must be simultaneously satisfied before a minister of Holy Communion may (and indeed, should) withhold the Eucharist from a member of the faithful. To justify withholding the Eucharist under Canon 915 according to its plain terms, the conduct in which a communicant perseveres must be obstinate, manifest, grave, and sinful. [In other words, the conjunction "and" tells us all of these conditions must be met.  This principle of statutory construction also applies in the secular world.]These conditions must be understood and assessed according to the Church’s canonical tradition, else, one is no longer talking about the law of the Catholic Church.

Given the very strong canonical presumptions accorded the faithful in regard to reception of the sacraments, and given the strict interpretative hermeneutic set out in Canon 18, the burden is, without question, on the minister of holy Communion to verify that all of the conditions listed in canon 915 are satisfied before he withholds holy Communion from a member of the faithful who approaches for it publicly. Put another way, the burden is not on Guarnizo’s critics to prove that he should not have acted as he did in this case, rather, the burden is on Guarnizo to prove that he acted in accord with Church discipline.

...

Guarnizo did not know, and could not have verified, whether Johnson’s sin (speaking objectively), which could be grave (a conclusion I think a Catholic could reach based on the words used here) was also manifest, as well as obstinate and perseverating. Yet such factors, according to a host of respected commentators writing over many decades, must be verified before withholding holy Communion from a member of the faithful. Consider:

“If the priest … doubts the publicity or notoriety of the crime, it would certainly be safer to give the Holy Eucharist to one who publically asks for it.” Dom Augustine, COMMENTARY (1920) IV: 230.

“Occulto peccatori qui publice accedit ad sacram Mensam administranda vero est sacra communio … si fideles, quippe cum eis indignitas non sit nota, timore afficiantur, ne et ipsi infamentur, si sacerdos ob … ignoratiam, errorem, etc, eos praetereat.” Jone, COMMENTARIUM (1954) II: 100.

“If there is doubt about the notoriety of the sin, the communicant is to be favored in public.” Abbo-Hannan, SACRED CANONS (1960) I: 854.

“Before a minister can lawfully refuse the Eucharist, he must be certain that the person obstinately persists in a sinful situation or in sinful behavior that is manifest (i.e. public) and objectively grave.” Kelly, in GB& I COMM (1995) 503.

“The minister of holy communion should not publicly deny communion to a person who, being afflicted by grave sin and/or subject to a non-declared penalty latae sententiae [e.g., for apostasy] is not notoriously under those situations.” Gramunt, in EXEGETICAL COMM (2004) III/1: 615-616.

I know of no commentator who disputes these views. In terms of Canon 915, and given Guarnizo’s factual admissions above, I conclude that Guarnizo erred in withholding Communion.

So basically, what I understand Dr. Peters to be saying is this: at the very moment that Holy Communion is withheld, (1) the requirements of obstinacy, manifestness, gravity and sinfulness must exist simultaneously; and (2) the minister of Holy Communion must have a subjective knowledge that all these conditions exist.  So even if the four requirements of Can. 915 are in fact in place, the minister who denies Communion is still not covered as long as he has a doubt (which I take it means legitimate doubt, not born of willful blindness) that they were in place.  What the minister finds out afterwards, or what later turns out to be the case, is not relevant: what is relevant is what he knows at the moment of the incident.

The inescapable conclusion, then, is that Fr. Guarnizo did not comply with Can. 915 in withholding Communion.  For reasons that he delves into in his post linked above, Peters also concludes that Fr. Guarnizo's action was not covered by canon law on any of the other potential grounds for denying the woman Communion.  In short, Fr. Guarnizo was wrong and stands in need of correction.

But what Fr. Guarnizo doesn't stand in need of is persecution.  He erred, but he erred on the side of love for the Eucharist and for the deluded soul of the woman who provoked him: on that point, he requires no correction.  I have said before, and continue to maintain, that this whole thing was a set-up, and that the penalties visited upon Father are out of all proportion to the offense.  Yes, there has been a firestorm, but Fr. Guarnizo's error was merely the excuse for the firestorm: it is the so-called injured party who has fanned the flames.  The lesson that needs to be drawn from this is that a priest's best defense against attacks of this kind is solid, thorough training in the proper application of canons governing the administration of the Sacraments.

Based on the foregoing, I accept that Fr. Marcel Guarnizo erred under canon law in this incident.  But (a) he has received a vastly disproportionate, and therefore unjust punishment; and (b) the Archdiocese of Washington gives every appearance of throwing him under the bus, all while coddling the woman who put him in such a dreadful position.  To my way of thinking, that is the greatest scandal in this whole affair.