The confusion about what Pope Francis said, is going to say, and once thought about saying, and what everyone's opinion about what the pope said is, and what everyone's opinion about what the pope said ought to be continues to the point where I just don't read anything about the pope anymore until the dust is well settled. It's gotten to the point that if an angel of light appeared to me and gave me the latest update on the pontiff's pronouncements, I would say, "Oh yeah? Show me that on the Vatican website."
So now the Holy Father is writing an encyclical about the enivronment, and the customary circus of doubt, adulation, criticism, fear, incredulity, statements about how the Church is finally getting it right, and statements about how this is the Great Apostasy predicted in Revelation are in full swing, and I am in my default position of avoidance. But so help me, whenever I see a link to an article about the encyclical, this is all I can think about.
So Rex was sent to Farm Street to Father Mowbray, a priest renowned for his triumphs with obdurate catechumens. After the third interview he came to tea with Lady Marchmain. "Well, how do you find my future son-in-law?" "He's the most difficult convert I have ever met." . . .
... I asked him: 'Supposing the Pope looked up and saw a cloud and said "It's going to rain," would that be bound to happen?' 'Oh, yes, Father.' 'But supposing it didn't?' He thought a moment and said, 'I suppose it would be sort of raining spiritually, only we were too sinful to see it.' Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn WaughAnd then there's this. Save us.
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I don't want to let the feast of St. Raymond Peñafort pass without mention. If you have a moment to look, I wrote about him a bit here.