Can You Build a Future on Borrowed Faith? Civilisational Exhaustion and the Moral Credit of Britain

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On the SSPX Announcement of New Episcopal Consecrations: Necessity, Succession, and the Care of Souls

Coat of arms featuring a shield with a fleur-de-lis and elements of ecclesiastical symbolism, inscribed with 'DEUS CARITAS EST'.

On the SSPX Announcement of New Episcopal Consecrations:
Necessity, Succession, and the Care of Souls

To the clergy, religious, and faithful of the Old Roman Apostolate,
and to all those who seek to preserve the Catholic faith in its integrity and fullness:
grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Carissimi

The announcement by the Priestly Society of Saint Pius X of its intention to proceed with new episcopal consecrations on 1 July 2026 will inevitably provoke strong reactions, ranging from alarm to applause. Such responses are understandable. Yet they risk obscuring the more serious question that confronts the Church once again: why this situation has arisen at all.

It is neither sufficient nor honest to treat the SSPX announcement as an isolated act of defiance, detached from history, dialogue, or pastoral reality. The Society has stated—credibly and verifiably—that it sought engagement with Rome, articulated concrete pastoral needs, and received no response capable of resolving the practical problem it now faces. One may dispute its conclusions; one cannot simply ignore the facts.

At present, the SSPX numbers well over 1,400 clerics and religious worldwide, drawn from more than fifty nations, yet is served by only two bishops capable of exercising episcopal ministry within the Society. This is not a theoretical imbalance. It concerns ordinations, confirmations, visitations, governance, and sacramental continuity on a global scale. Any bishop, regardless of canonical posture, recognises that such a situation cannot persist indefinitely without consequence for souls.

History matters here. Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre did not act in 1988 because dialogue had failed to occur, but because dialogue had failed to deliver certainty. The Protocol of 5 May 1988 stands as documentary proof that negotiations took place; the subsequent consecrations demonstrate that assurances without guarantees were judged insufficient. That judgment may be contested, but it cannot be dismissed as reckless or uninformed.

Nor should the Campos precedent be forgotten. The episcopal consecration of Licínio Rangel in 1991—canonically irregular at the time—was later healed by Rome in 2002 through the erection of the Personal Apostolic Administration of Saint John Mary Vianney. In other words, the Holy See itself has acknowledged, at least once, that an episcopal act undertaken under a claim of necessity can later be reconciled without repudiating the pastoral realities that gave rise to it.

None of this requires one to endorse the SSPX’s ecclesiological position in full. But it does oblige us to resist caricature. The present crisis is not fundamentally about personalities, nor even about canonical infractions. It is about an unresolved tension in the post-conciliar Church between authority and Tradition, between juridical regularity and doctrinal trust, between administrative control and pastoral reality.

From my own vantage point as a bishop, I must say this plainly: necessity is not invoked lightly by those who bear responsibility for souls. When it is invoked repeatedly across decades, by different actors, in different regions, and under different pontificates, the honest question is not merely whether the claim is correct, but why the underlying conditions persist.

The Church has healed irregularities before. She has also, at times, allowed them to fester by substituting delay for resolution. What she cannot afford—especially now—is to confuse unity with uniformity, or obedience with silence, or authority with administrative closure.

If the Church truly desires reconciliation, then it must be prepared not only to demand submission, but to offer credible, stable, and doctrinally coherent guarantees. Absent these, appeals to patience ring hollow, and history shows that pastoral necessity will again force decisions that no one truly desires.

The SSPX announcement should therefore be received neither with triumphalism nor with outrage, but with sobriety. It is not a cause for celebration. It is a sign—once again—that something remains gravely unresolved in the life of the Church.

And unresolved questions, when left unattended, do not disappear. They return—this time with fewer bishops, greater urgency, and higher stakes.

I speak this way not as a theorist, but as a bishop who has learned—through long pastoral experience in irregular times—that souls cannot be sustained indefinitely on assurances alone.

Haec est via.

I.X.

A formal signature of Jerome Seleisi, featuring an ornate script.

Brichtelmestunensis
In Purificatione Beatæ Mariæ Virginis MMXXVI A.D.

FSSPX Communique
Nuntiatoria Report


LATIN

De Nuntio a Fraternitate Sacerdotali Sancti Pii X edito circa novas Consecrationes Episcopales: de Necessitate, Successione, et Cura Animarum

Nuntius a Fraternitate Sacerdotali Sancti Pii X prolatus, quo declaratur consilium novas consecrationes episcopales die I mensis Iulii anni 2026 celebrandi, procul dubio varias excitabit reactiones, ab anxietate usque ad approbationem. Huiusmodi reactiones intellegibiles sunt. Attamen periculum est ne quaestio gravior, quae Ecclesiae iterum obversatur, obscuratur: cur ad talem condicionem res ipsa pervenerit.

Nec satis est nec rectum hunc nuntium tamquam actum solitarium defectionis tractare, a historia, dialogo, vel realitate pastorali seiunctum. Fraternitas enim — modo credibili atque comprobabili — affirmat se communionem cum Roma quaesivisse, necessitates pastorales concretas exposuisse, ac responsum accepisse quod difficultatem practicam hodie exstantem solvere non valeat. Conclusiones quidem disputari possunt; facta tamen neglegi non possunt.

Hoc tempore Fraternitas plus quam mille et quadringentos clericos ac religiosos toto orbe complectitur, ex plus quinquaginta nationibus oriundos, atque tamen solummodo duobus Episcopis fruitur, qui intra ipsam ministerium episcopale exercere possunt. Haec non est inaequalitas theoretica. De ordinationibus, confirmationibus, visitationibus pastoralibus, regimine ac de ipsa continuatione vitae sacramentalis in scala universali agitur. Nullus Episcopus, qualibet condicione canonica positus, affirmare potest talem statum sine detrimento animarum indefinite permanere posse.

Historia hic momentum decisivum habet. Archiepiscopus Marcellus Lefebvre anno 1988 non egit quia dialogus defuisset, sed quia dialogus certitudinem non attulerat. Protocollo diei V mensis Maii anni 1988 signato hoc documentis comprobatur; consecrationes quae secutae sunt demonstrant promissiones sine firmis cautionibus insufficientes iudicatas esse. Hoc iudicium disputari potest; temerarium aut imperitum appellari non potest.

Nec praetereundum est exemplum Camporum. Consecratio episcopalis Licinii Rangel anno 1991 peracta — tunc quidem canonice irregularis — postea a Sede Apostolica anno 2002 sanata est per erectionem Administrationis Apostolicae Personalis Sancti Ioannis Mariae Vianney. Id est, ipsa Sancta Sedes agnovit actum episcopalem ex necessitate peractum postea posse ad ordinem iuridicum redigi, quin realitates pastorales unde ortus est repudiarentur.

Haec omnia plenam adhaesionem positioni ecclesiologicae Fraternitatis non exigunt. Sed caricaturam respuere exigunt. Crisi enim hodiernae radix non est primum in personis neque tantum in transgressionibus canonicis. Potius patefacit tensionem adhuc non solutam in Ecclesia postconciliari inter auctoritatem et Traditionem, inter regularitatem iuridicam et fiduciam doctrinalem, inter rationem mere administrativam et realitatem pastoralem.

Ex mea ipsa experientia ut Episcopus loquens, id aperte dicendum est: necessitas non leviter invocatur ab iis qui curam animarum gerunt. Cum per plures decenniorum cursus, a diversis actoribus, in variis regionibus ac sub variis pontificatibus, eadem necessitas iterum atque iterum invocatur, quaestio honesta non solum est utrum argumentum rectum sit, sed cur condiciones quae illud gignunt perseverent.

Ecclesia iam antea irregularitates sanavit. Nonnumquam tamen eas etiam incrassescere permisit, solutionem dilatione substituens. Quod vero sibi praesertim hodie permittere non potest, est unitatem cum uniformitate confundere, obedientiam cum silentio aequare, aut auctoritatem ad clausuram mere administrativam redigere.

Si Ecclesia reconciliationem vere desiderat, parata esse debet non solum submissionem exigere, sed etiam cautiones credibiles, stabiles atque doctrinaliter cohaerentes offerre. His deficientibus, exhortationes ad patientiam inanes sonant, atque historia docet necessitatem pastoralem rursus ad decisiones compellere quas nemo re vera optat.

Nuntius igitur a Fraternitate Sancti Pii X editus nec triumphalismo nec indignatione excipiendus est, sed sobrietate. Non est causa celebrationis. Est potius signum — iterum — aliquid grave in vita Ecclesiae manere non solutum.

Quaestiones enim non solutae non evanescunt. Redeunt — hoc tempore cum paucioribus Episcopis, maiori urgentia, ac gravioribus ponderibus.

Haec scribo non ut theorista, sed ut Episcopus qui per longam experientiam pastoralem in temporibus irregularibus didicit animarum curam diutius promissionibus solis sustineri non posse.


FRANÇAIS

Sur l’annonce de la Fraternité Saint-Pie X concernant de nouvelles consécrations épiscopales : nécessité, succession et soin des âmes

L’annonce faite par la Fraternité Sacerdotale Saint-Pie X de son intention de procéder à de nouvelles consécrations épiscopales le 1er juillet 2026 suscitera inévitablement des réactions contrastées, allant de l’inquiétude à l’approbation. Ces réactions sont compréhensibles. Elles risquent toutefois d’obscurcir la question plus grave à laquelle l’Église se trouve une fois encore confrontée : pourquoi une telle situation a-t-elle surgi.

Il n’est ni suffisant ni honnête de traiter cette annonce comme un acte isolé de défiance, détaché de l’histoire, du dialogue ou de la réalité pastorale. La Fraternité affirme – de manière crédible et vérifiable – avoir recherché un dialogue avec Rome, exposé des besoins pastoraux concrets, et reçu une réponse incapable de résoudre le problème pratique auquel elle est aujourd’hui confrontée. On peut contester ses conclusions ; on ne peut ignorer les faits.

À l’heure actuelle, la Fraternité compte bien plus de 1 400 clercs et religieux à travers le monde, issus de plus de cinquante nations, tout en n’étant servie que par deux évêques capables d’exercer un ministère épiscopal en son sein. Il ne s’agit pas d’un déséquilibre théorique. Il concerne les ordinations, les confirmations, les visites pastorales, le gouvernement et la continuité sacramentelle à l’échelle mondiale. Aucun évêque, quelle que soit sa situation canonique, ne peut prétendre qu’une telle situation puisse durer indéfiniment sans conséquences pour les âmes.

L’histoire est ici déterminante. L’archevêque Marcel Lefebvre n’a pas agi en 1988 faute de dialogue, mais parce que le dialogue n’avait pas apporté de garanties. Le Protocole du 5 mai 1988 en constitue la preuve documentaire ; les consécrations qui ont suivi montrent que des assurances sans garanties ont été jugées insuffisantes. Ce jugement peut être discuté ; il ne peut être qualifié de téméraire ou d’ignorant.

Il ne faut pas non plus oublier le précédent de Campos. La consécration épiscopale de Licínio Rangel en 1991 – canoniquement irrégulière à l’époque – a été ultérieurement régularisée par Rome en 2002 par l’érection de l’Administration apostolique personnelle Saint-Jean-Marie-Vianney. Autrement dit, le Saint-Siège lui-même a reconnu qu’un acte épiscopal accompli sous le signe de la nécessité pouvait être ultérieurement réconcilié sans renier les réalités pastorales qui l’avaient motivé.

Rien de cela n’exige une adhésion pleine et entière à la position ecclésiologique de la Fraternité. Mais cela oblige à refuser la caricature. La crise actuelle ne relève pas fondamentalement des personnes, ni même d’infractions canoniques. Elle révèle une tension non résolue dans l’Église postconciliaire entre autorité et Tradition, entre régularité juridique et confiance doctrinale, entre une logique purement administrative et la réalité pastorale.

Du point de vue qui est le mien en tant qu’évêque, je dois le dire clairement : la nécessité n’est pas invoquée à la légère par ceux qui portent la charge des âmes. Lorsqu’elle est invoquée de manière récurrente sur plusieurs décennies, par des acteurs différents, dans des régions différentes et sous des pontificats différents, la question honnête n’est pas seulement de savoir si l’argument est juste, mais pourquoi les conditions qui le font naître persistent.

L’Église a déjà guéri des situations irrégulières. Elle a aussi, parfois, laissé ces situations s’envenimer en substituant le report à la résolution. Ce qu’elle ne peut se permettre – surtout aujourd’hui – c’est de confondre l’unité avec l’uniformité, l’obéissance avec le silence, ou l’autorité avec une fermeture administrative.

Si l’Église désire réellement la réconciliation, elle doit être prête non seulement à demander la soumission, mais à offrir des garanties crédibles, stables et doctrinalement cohérentes. À défaut, les appels à la patience sonnent creux, et l’histoire montre que la nécessité pastorale contraindra à nouveau des décisions que personne ne souhaite réellement.

L’annonce de la Fraternité Saint-Pie X doit donc être reçue ni avec triomphalisme ni avec indignation, mais avec sobriété. Elle n’est pas un motif de célébration. Elle est le signe, une fois encore, qu’une question grave demeure non résolue dans la vie de l’Église.

Car les questions non résolues ne disparaissent pas. Elles reviennent — cette fois avec moins d’évêques, plus d’urgence et des enjeux plus élevés.

Je parle ainsi non en théoricien, mais en évêque qui a appris, par une longue expérience pastorale en des temps irréguliers, que les âmes ne peuvent longtemps être soutenues par de simples assurances.


ITALIANO

Sull’annuncio della Fraternità San Pio X circa nuove consacrazioni episcopali: necessità, successione e cura delle anime

L’annuncio della Fraternità Sacerdotale San Pio X della sua intenzione di procedere a nuove consacrazioni episcopali il 1° luglio 2026 susciterà inevitabilmente reazioni contrastanti, dall’allarme all’approvazione. Tali reazioni sono comprensibili. Esse rischiano tuttavia di oscurare la questione più grave che si ripresenta ancora una volta nella vita della Chiesa: perché una simile situazione è giunta a maturazione.

Non è né sufficiente né onesto trattare questo annuncio come un atto isolato di sfida, avulso dalla storia, dal dialogo o dalla realtà pastorale. La Fraternità afferma — in modo credibile e verificabile — di aver cercato il confronto con Roma, di aver esposto esigenze pastorali concrete e di aver ricevuto una risposta incapace di risolvere il problema pratico che oggi si trova ad affrontare. Si possono contestare le conclusioni; non si possono ignorare i fatti.

Attualmente la Fraternità conta ben oltre 1.400 tra chierici e religiosi in tutto il mondo, provenienti da più di cinquanta nazioni, ed è tuttavia servita da soli due vescovi in grado di esercitare il ministero episcopale al suo interno. Non si tratta di uno squilibrio teorico. Sono in gioco ordinazioni, cresime, visite pastorali, governo e continuità sacramentale su scala globale. Nessun vescovo, qualunque sia la sua posizione canonica, può ritenere che una situazione del genere possa protrarsi indefinitamente senza conseguenze per le anime.

La storia è qui determinante. L’arcivescovo Marcel Lefebvre non agì nel 1988 per mancanza di dialogo, ma perché il dialogo non aveva prodotto garanzie. Il Protocollo del 5 maggio 1988 ne costituisce una prova documentaria; le consacrazioni che seguirono mostrano che promesse prive di garanzie furono giudicate insufficienti. Tale giudizio può essere discusso; non può essere liquidato come temerario o inconsapevole.

Non va neppure dimenticato il precedente di Campos. La consacrazione episcopale di Licínio Rangel nel 1991 — allora canonicamente irregolare — fu successivamente sanata da Roma nel 2002 mediante l’erezione dell’Amministrazione Apostolica Personale San Giovanni Maria Vianney. In altri termini, la Santa Sede ha riconosciuto che un atto episcopale compiuto in una situazione di necessità può essere successivamente riconciliato senza rinnegare le realtà pastorali che lo avevano generato.

Nulla di tutto ciò richiede un’adesione piena alla posizione ecclesiologica della Fraternità. Ma impone di respingere la caricatura. La crisi attuale non riguarda fondamentalmente le persone, né semplicemente infrazioni canoniche. Essa rivela una tensione irrisolta nella Chiesa post-conciliare tra autorità e Tradizione, tra regolarità giuridica e fiducia dottrinale, tra una logica puramente amministrativa e la realtà pastorale.

Dal mio punto di vista di vescovo, devo dirlo con chiarezza: la necessità non viene invocata con leggerezza da chi porta la responsabilità delle anime. Quando essa viene invocata ripetutamente nel corso dei decenni, da soggetti diversi, in contesti diversi e sotto pontificati diversi, la domanda onesta non è soltanto se l’argomento sia corretto, ma perché le condizioni che lo generano continuino a persistere.

La Chiesa ha già sanato situazioni irregolari. Talvolta, però, ha anche permesso che esse si incancrenissero sostituendo il rinvio alla risoluzione. Ciò che non può permettersi — soprattutto oggi — è confondere l’unità con l’uniformità, l’obbedienza con il silenzio, o l’autorità con una chiusura amministrativa.

Se la Chiesa desidera realmente la riconciliazione, deve essere pronta non solo a chiedere sottomissione, ma a offrire garanzie credibili, stabili e dottrinalmente coerenti. In mancanza di ciò, gli appelli alla pazienza risultano vuoti, e la storia dimostra che la necessità pastorale costringerà ancora una volta a decisioni che nessuno desidera realmente.

L’annuncio della Fraternità San Pio X deve dunque essere accolto né con trionfalismo né con indignazione, ma con sobrietà. Non è motivo di celebrazione. È il segno, ancora una volta, che una questione grave rimane irrisolta nella vita della Chiesa.

Le questioni irrisolte non scompaiono. Ritornano — questa volta con meno vescovi, maggiore urgenza e poste in gioco più elevate.

Parlo così non da teorico, ma da vescovo che ha imparato, attraverso una lunga esperienza pastorale in tempi irregolari, che le anime non possono essere sostenute a lungo da semplici rassicurazioni.


ESPAÑOL

Sobre el anuncio de la Fraternidad San Pío X relativo a nuevas consagraciones episcopales: necesidad, sucesión y cuidado de las almas

El anuncio de la Fraternidad Sacerdotal San Pío X de su intención de proceder a nuevas consagraciones episcopales el 1 de julio de 2026 suscitará inevitablemente reacciones encontradas, desde la alarma hasta la aprobación. Tales reacciones son comprensibles. Sin embargo, corren el riesgo de oscurecer la cuestión más grave a la que la Iglesia se enfrenta una vez más: por qué ha llegado a plantearse una situación de este tipo.

No es ni suficiente ni honesto tratar este anuncio como un acto aislado de desafío, desligado de la historia, del diálogo o de la realidad pastoral. La Fraternidad afirma —de manera creíble y verificable— haber buscado el diálogo con Roma, haber expuesto necesidades pastorales concretas y haber recibido una respuesta incapaz de resolver el problema práctico al que hoy se enfrenta. Se pueden discutir sus conclusiones; no se pueden ignorar los hechos.

En la actualidad, la Fraternidad cuenta con más de 1.400 clérigos y religiosos en todo el mundo, procedentes de más de cincuenta naciones, y sin embargo está atendida únicamente por dos obispos capaces de ejercer el ministerio episcopal en su seno. No se trata de un desequilibrio teórico. Afecta a las ordenaciones, las confirmaciones, las visitas pastorales, el gobierno y la continuidad sacramental a escala global. Ningún obispo, cualquiera que sea su situación canónica, puede sostener que una realidad así pueda prolongarse indefinidamente sin consecuencias para las almas.

La historia es aquí determinante. El arzobispo Marcel Lefebvre no actuó en 1988 por falta de diálogo, sino porque el diálogo no había ofrecido garantías. El Protocolo del 5 de mayo de 1988 constituye prueba documental de ello; las consagraciones que siguieron muestran que las promesas sin garantías fueron juzgadas insuficientes. Ese juicio puede ser discutido; no puede ser desestimado como temerario o ignorante.

Tampoco debe olvidarse el precedente de Campos. La consagración episcopal de Licínio Rangel en 1991 —canónicamente irregular en su momento— fue posteriormente sanada por Roma en 2002 mediante la erección de la Administración Apostólica Personal de San Juan María Vianney. En otras palabras, la Santa Sede reconoció que un acto episcopal realizado bajo una alegación de necesidad podía ser reconciliado posteriormente sin repudiar las realidades pastorales que le dieron origen.

Nada de esto exige una adhesión plena a la posición eclesiológica de la Fraternidad. Pero sí obliga a rechazar la caricatura. La crisis actual no se reduce fundamentalmente a personas ni siquiera a infracciones canónicas. Revela una tensión no resuelta en la Iglesia posconciliar entre autoridad y Tradición, entre regularidad jurídica y confianza doctrinal, entre una lógica puramente administrativa y la realidad pastoral.

Desde mi propia perspectiva como obispo, debo decirlo con claridad: la necesidad no es invocada a la ligera por quienes cargan con la responsabilidad de las almas. Cuando se invoca reiteradamente a lo largo de décadas, por actores distintos, en regiones distintas y bajo pontificados distintos, la pregunta honesta no es solo si el argumento es correcto, sino por qué persisten las condiciones que lo provocan.

La Iglesia ha sanado irregularidades antes. También ha permitido, en ocasiones, que se agraven sustituyendo la resolución por el aplazamiento. Lo que no puede permitirse —especialmente hoy— es confundir la unidad con la uniformidad, la obediencia con el silencio o la autoridad con un cierre meramente administrativo.

Si la Iglesia desea verdaderamente la reconciliación, debe estar dispuesta no solo a exigir sumisión, sino a ofrecer garantías creíbles, estables y doctrinalmente coherentes. En ausencia de estas, los llamamientos a la paciencia resultan vacíos, y la historia demuestra que la necesidad pastoral volverá a forzar decisiones que nadie desea realmente.

El anuncio de la Fraternidad San Pío X debe ser recibido, por tanto, ni con triunfalismo ni con indignación, sino con sobriedad. No es motivo de celebración. Es una señal —una vez más— de que algo grave permanece sin resolver en la vida de la Iglesia.

Las cuestiones no resueltas no desaparecen. Regresan —esta vez con menos obispos, mayor urgencia y mayores consecuencias.

Hablo así no como teórico, sino como obispo que ha aprendido, a través de una larga experiencia pastoral en tiempos irregulares, que las almas no pueden sostenerse indefinidamente sobre simples garantías.


TAGALOG

Tungkol sa Anunsyo ng Fraternidad ni San Pio X hinggil sa mga bagong konsagrasyong obispal: pangangailangan, pagsunod, at pangangalaga sa mga kaluluwa

Ang pahayag ng Fraternidad ng mga Pari ni San Pio X tungkol sa kanilang hangaring magsagawa ng mga bagong konsagrasyong obispal sa ika-1 ng Hulyo 2026 ay tiyak na magbubunga ng sari-saring reaksiyon, mula sa pangamba hanggang sa pagsang-ayon. Ang gayong mga reaksiyon ay mauunawaan. Gayunman, may panganib na matabunan nito ang mas mabigat na tanong na muling humaharap sa Simbahan: bakit umabot sa ganitong kalagayan ang sitwasyon.

Hindi sapat, at hindi rin tapat, na ituring ang anunsyong ito bilang isang hiwalay na kilos ng pagsuway, na walang kaugnayan sa kasaysayan, sa diyalogo, o sa konkretong realidad pastoral. Ipinahayag ng Fraternidad — sa paraang kapani-paniwala at mapapatunayan — na sila ay humingi ng pakikipag-ugnayan sa Roma, naglahad ng malinaw at kongkretong pangangailangang pastoral, at tumanggap ng tugong hindi nakatugon sa praktikal na suliraning kanilang kinakaharap ngayon. Maaaring pagtalunan ang kanilang mga konklusyon; hindi maaaring ipagsawalang-bahala ang mga katotohanan.

Sa kasalukuyan, ang Fraternidad ay binubuo ng mahigit 1,400 na mga klero at relihiyoso mula sa mahigit limampung bansa sa buong mundo, subalit pinaglilingkuran lamang ng dalawang obispong may kakayahang gumanap ng ganap na ministeryong obispal sa loob ng samahan. Hindi ito isang teoretikal na kakulangan. Saklaw nito ang ordinasyon, kumpil, mga pagdalaw pastoral, pamamahala, at ang pagpapatuloy ng buhay sakramental sa pandaigdigang saklaw. Walang sinumang obispo, anuman ang kanyang kalagayang kanonikal, ang makapagsasabing ang ganitong sitwasyon ay maaaring magpatuloy nang walang hanggan nang walang masamang epekto sa mga kaluluwa.

Mahalaga rito ang kasaysayan. Hindi kumilos si Arsobispo Marcel Lefebvre noong 1988 dahil sa kakulangan ng diyalogo, kundi dahil ang diyalogo ay hindi nagbunga ng katiyakan. Ang Protokolo ng ika-5 ng Mayo 1988 ay nagsisilbing dokumentadong patunay nito; ang mga konsagrasyong sumunod ay nagpapakita na ang mga pangakong walang matibay na garantiya ay itinuring na hindi sapat. Maaaring kuwestiyunin ang paghatol na iyon; hindi ito maaaring ituring na pabaya o walang kaalaman.

Hindi rin dapat kalimutan ang naunang karanasan sa Campos. Ang konsagrasyong obispal ni Licínio Rangel noong 1991 — na noon ay itinuturing na kanonikal na iregular — ay kalaunang inayos ng Roma noong 2002 sa pamamagitan ng pagtatatag ng Personal Apostolic Administration ni San Juan Maria Vianney. Ipinakikita nito na kinilala ng Banal na Luklukan na ang isang gawaing obispal na isinagawa dahil sa pangangailangan ay maaaring paglaon ay mapanumbalik sa kaayusan nang hindi itinatatwa ang mga pastoral na realidad na pinagmulan nito.

Wala sa mga ito ang nangangailangan ng ganap na pagsang-ayon sa posisyong eklesiyolohikal ng Fraternidad. Ngunit hinihingi nito ang pagtanggi sa karikatura. Ang kasalukuyang krisis ay hindi pangunahing usapin ng mga personalidad, ni simpleng mga paglabag na kanonikal. Ipinapakita nito ang isang hindi pa nalulutas na tensiyon sa Simbahang post-konsilyar sa pagitan ng awtoridad at Tradisyon, ng legal na kaayusan at tiwalang doktrinal, ng lohikang purong administratibo at ng realidad pastoral.

Mula sa aking sariling pananaw bilang isang obispo, malinaw kong sinasabi ito: ang pangangailangan ay hindi basta-bastang ipinahahayag ng mga may pananagutan sa mga kaluluwa. Kapag ito ay paulit-ulit na binabanggit sa loob ng maraming dekada, ng iba’t ibang mga tagapaglingkod, sa iba’t ibang mga lugar at sa ilalim ng iba’t ibang mga pontipikado, ang tapat na tanong ay hindi lamang kung tama ang katuwiran, kundi kung bakit patuloy na umiiral ang mga kundisyong nagbubunsod nito.

Ang Simbahan ay nakapagpagaling na ng mga iregularidad noon. May mga pagkakataon ding hinayaan niyang lumala ang mga ito sa pamamagitan ng pagpapalit ng paglutas ng paulit-ulit na pagpapaliban. Ang hindi niya maaaring ipagkamali — lalo na sa ating panahon — ay ang ipaghalo ang pagkakaisa at pagkakapare-pareho, ang pagsunod at katahimikan, o ang awtoridad at pagsasara na pawang administratibo.

Kung tunay na ninanais ng Simbahan ang pagkakasundo, kailangan niyang maging handa hindi lamang humiling ng pagsunod, kundi mag-alok ng mga garantiya na kapani-paniwala, matatag, at doktrinal na magkakaugnay. Kung wala ang mga ito, ang mga panawagan sa pagtitiyaga ay nawawalan ng saysay, at ipinakikita ng kasaysayan na ang pangangailangang pastoral ay muling magtutulak sa mga pasyang walang sinuman ang tunay na nagnanais.

Ang anunsyo ng Fraternidad ni San Pio X ay dapat tanggapin hindi sa diwa ng pagtatagumpay o galit, kundi sa kahinahunan. Hindi ito dahilan ng pagdiriwang. Ito ay tanda — muli — na may isang mabigat na suliraning nananatiling hindi nalulutas sa buhay ng Simbahan.

Ang mga tanong na hindi nalulutas ay hindi basta nawawala. Sila ay bumabalik — sa pagkakataong ito na may mas kaunting mga obispo, higit na pagkaapurahan, at mas mabigat na mga implikasyon.

Ako ay nagsasalita hindi bilang isang teorista, kundi bilang isang obispo na natuto, sa mahabang karanasang pastoral sa mga panahong hindi regular, na ang mga kaluluwa ay hindi maaaring patuloy na mapanatili sa pamamagitan lamang ng mga pangakong walang katiyakan.


GERMAN

Zur Ankündigung der Priesterbruderschaft St. Pius X über neue bischöfliche Weihen: Notwendigkeit, Sukzession und die Sorge um die Seelen

Die Ankündigung der Priesterbruderschaft St. Pius X, am 1. Juli 2026 neue bischöfliche Weihen vornehmen zu wollen, wird unweigerlich unterschiedliche Reaktionen hervorrufen – von Besorgnis bis Zustimmung. Solche Reaktionen sind verständlich. Sie bergen jedoch die Gefahr, die ernstere Frage zu verdecken, mit der sich die Kirche einmal mehr konfrontiert sieht: Warum ist es überhaupt zu einer solchen Situation gekommen?

Es ist weder ausreichend noch redlich, diese Ankündigung als einen isolierten Akt des Widerstands zu betrachten, losgelöst von Geschichte, Dialog und pastoraler Wirklichkeit. Die Bruderschaft erklärt – glaubwürdig und überprüfbar –, sie habe den Dialog mit Rom gesucht, konkrete pastorale Bedürfnisse vorgetragen und eine Antwort erhalten, die nicht geeignet war, das praktische Problem zu lösen, vor dem sie sich heute sieht. Man mag ihre Schlussfolgerungen bestreiten; die Fakten lassen sich nicht ignorieren.

Derzeit zählt die Bruderschaft weltweit weit über 1.400 Kleriker und Ordensangehörige aus mehr als fünfzig Nationen, wird jedoch lediglich von zwei Bischöfen betreut, die innerhalb der Gemeinschaft ein bischöfliches Amt ausüben können. Dies ist kein theoretisches Ungleichgewicht. Es betrifft Priesterweihen, Firmungen, bischöfliche Visitationen, Leitung und die sakramentale Kontinuität auf globaler Ebene. Kein Bischof – unabhängig von seiner kanonischen Stellung – kann ernsthaft behaupten, ein solcher Zustand könne auf unbestimmte Zeit ohne Schaden für die Seelen fortbestehen.

Hier kommt der Geschichte entscheidende Bedeutung zu. Erzbischof Marcel Lefebvre handelte 1988 nicht, weil es an Dialog gefehlt hätte, sondern weil der Dialog keine Verlässlichkeit hervorgebracht hatte. Das Protokoll vom 5. Mai 1988 liefert hierfür einen dokumentarischen Beleg; die darauffolgenden Weihen zeigen, dass Zusicherungen ohne belastbare Garantien als unzureichend beurteilt wurden. Diese Einschätzung mag diskutiert werden; sie kann jedoch nicht als leichtfertig oder unkundig abgetan werden.

Ebenso wenig darf das Beispiel von Campos übergangen werden. Die bischöfliche Weihe von Licínio Rangel im Jahr 1991 – damals kanonisch irregulär – wurde später im Jahr 2002 durch den Heiligen Stuhl geheilt, durch die Errichtung der Personalapostolischen Administration St. Johannes Maria Vianney. Mit anderen Worten: Der Apostolische Stuhl selbst hat anerkannt, dass ein aus einer Notlage heraus vollzogener bischöflicher Akt später rechtlich geordnet werden kann, ohne die pastoralen Gegebenheiten zu verleugnen, aus denen er hervorgegangen ist.

All dies verlangt keine uneingeschränkte Zustimmung zur ekklesiologischen Position der Bruderschaft. Es verpflichtet jedoch dazu, Karikaturen zurückzuweisen. Die gegenwärtige Krise ist ihrem Wesen nach weder eine Frage von Persönlichkeiten noch allein von kanonischen Verstößen. Sie offenbart vielmehr eine bis heute ungelöste Spannung in der nachkonziliaren Kirche zwischen Autorität und Tradition, zwischen rechtlicher Ordnung und lehrmäßiger Vertrauenswürdigkeit, zwischen einer rein administrativen Logik und der pastoralen Wirklichkeit.

Aus meiner eigenen Perspektive als Bischof sage ich dies offen: Notwendigkeit wird von denen, die Verantwortung für Seelen tragen, nicht leichtfertig geltend gemacht. Wenn sie über Jahrzehnte hinweg, von unterschiedlichen Akteuren, in unterschiedlichen Regionen und unter unterschiedlichen Pontifikaten immer wieder geltend gemacht wird, dann lautet die ehrliche Frage nicht nur, ob das Argument zutrifft, sondern warum die Bedingungen, die es hervorrufen, fortbestehen.

Die Kirche hat Unregelmäßigkeiten bereits früher geheilt. Sie hat es jedoch zuweilen auch zugelassen, dass sie sich verfestigen, indem Aufschub an die Stelle von Lösung trat. Was sie sich – gerade heute – nicht leisten kann, ist, Einheit mit Uniformität zu verwechseln, Gehorsam mit Schweigen gleichzusetzen oder Autorität auf eine bloß administrative Abschließung zu reduzieren.

Wenn die Kirche wirklich Versöhnung wünscht, muss sie bereit sein, nicht nur Unterordnung einzufordern, sondern glaubwürdige, stabile und lehrmäßig kohärente Garantien anzubieten. Fehlen diese, wirken Appelle zur Geduld hohl, und die Geschichte zeigt, dass pastorale Notwendigkeit erneut Entscheidungen erzwingen wird, die niemand wirklich wünscht.

Die Ankündigung der Priesterbruderschaft St. Pius X sollte daher weder triumphalistisch noch empört aufgenommen werden, sondern mit Nüchternheit. Sie ist kein Anlass zur Freude. Sie ist vielmehr ein weiteres Zeichen dafür, dass in der Kirche eine schwerwiegende Frage ungelöst bleibt.

Ungelöste Fragen verschwinden nicht. Sie kehren zurück – diesmal mit weniger Bischöfen, größerer Dringlichkeit und höheren Einsätzen.

Ich spreche so nicht als Theoretiker, sondern als Bischof, der durch lange pastorale Erfahrung in unregelmäßigen Zeiten gelernt hat, dass Seelen auf Dauer nicht von bloßen Zusicherungen getragen werden können.



Please note that all material on this website is the Intellectual Property (IP) of His Grace, the Titular Archbishop of Selsey and protected by Copyright and Intellectual Property laws of the United Kingdom, United States and International law. Reproduction and distribution without written authorisation of the owner is prohibited.

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“Non est bonum esse hominem solum”: A pastoral epistle for Septuagesima 2026

Coat of arms featuring a shield with a fleur-de-lis and elements of ecclesiastical symbolism, inscribed with 'DEUS CARITAS EST'.

“Non est bonum esse hominem solum”
A pastoral epistle for Septuagesima 2026

To the clergy, religious, and faithful of the Old Roman Apostolate,
and to all those who seek to preserve the Catholic faith in its integrity and fullness:
grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Carissimi

“It is not good for man to be alone” (Gen 2:18), as the Church enters the ancient season of Septuagesima, she does not yet command us to fast, but she does command us to remember. She places us, deliberately and soberly, at the threshold of Lent. The alleluias fall silent. The liturgy grows restrained. We are reminded that we live east of Eden, that the world is wounded, and that man does not naturally dwell in harmony—with God, with others, or even with himself.

Septuagesima is a season of realism. Before the discipline of Lent begins, the Church teaches us why discipline is necessary at all.

We live in an age that speaks endlessly of freedom and yet suffers deeply from isolation. Loneliness has become one of the most pervasive features of modern life—experienced not only by the elderly or the marginalised, but by the young, the educated, and the materially secure. Families fracture. Friendships thin. Communities weaken. Many find themselves surrounded by people, yet profoundly alone.¹

This loneliness is not merely a social inconvenience. It is a spiritual wound.

In recent years, this wound has been sharply deepened by the experience of the COVID lockdowns. For long months, ordinary patterns of human life were suspended. Families were separated, the elderly isolated, children removed from peers, and communal worship interrupted. What was presented as a temporary emergency measure has left enduring marks on the human psyche—marks that have not simply disappeared with the lifting of restrictions.²

For many, especially the young, formative years were spent in enforced isolation at precisely the stage of life when identity, trust, and social confidence are normally forged through embodied relationship. Screens replaced presence. Distance replaced affection. Even now, the after-effects linger: anxiety, social withdrawal, difficulty forming relationships, and a pervasive sense of disconnection.³

These effects are not unprecedented. They have long been observed wherever communion is deliberately removed.

Those who minister in prisons have known for decades what prolonged isolation does to the human soul. Psychological and pastoral observation alike confirm that extended solitary confinement produces disorientation, anxiety, emotional blunting, and lasting harm.⁴ This is not a rhetorical comparison. It is a moral insight.

Man was never designed to endure prolonged isolation without damage. Whether imposed by punishment, policy, illness, or fear, separation from human communion erodes the person. What prisons demonstrate in extremis, modern society has now experienced more broadly.⁵

Septuagesima helps us understand why. It reminds us that man’s struggle is not merely social or psychological, but theological. We are wounded because communion has been fractured—and because we have forgotten what communion is for.

At the heart of this crisis lies a forgotten truth: the human person is created for communion. Not for isolation. Not for self-construction. Not for solitary autonomy. From the beginning, God declares: It is not good that man should be alone (Gen 2:18). This is not sentiment; it is anthropology.⁶

God Himself is not solitary.
He is eternal communion: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost—distinct, yet perfectly united in love. Creation flows not from divine lack, but from divine abundance. To be made in the image and likeness of God is therefore to be ordered toward relationship—toward communion with God and with one another.⁷

Loneliness, therefore, is not healed by distraction, stimulation, or self-expression. It is healed only by restored communion. The experiences of lockdown isolation and prison confinement testify to this with painful clarity. Remove communion for long enough, and the soul begins to fracture.⁸

Yet our culture increasingly teaches the opposite. Dependence is framed as weakness. Obligation is treated as oppression. Fulfilment is presented as radical self-definition. Family bonds are reduced to preference. Inheritance is cast as a burden. In the name of freedom, many are quietly severed from the very relationships that make freedom livable.⁹

The lockdowns did not create this mentality, but they intensified it. Isolation was normalised. Withdrawal was moralised. Presence itself was treated as a risk. For many—especially the young—this confirmed an already growing suspicion of embodied community. What began as an emergency hardened into habit. Relearning how to belong has proved harder than expected.¹⁰

The breakdown of the family is one of the clearest signs of this rupture. The family is not a social arrangement or lifestyle option. It is the primary school of communion. It is where the human person first learns sacrifice, authority, belonging, and love—where identity is received before it is chosen, and freedom is formed through responsibility.¹¹

Family breakdown today often occurs even where families remain physically intact. The fracture is not always absence, but mediation. Screens, devices, and algorithm-driven environments quietly displace shared meals, conversation, and attention. Presence remains, but communion fades.

Research consistently shows that heavy, unstructured use of internet-connected devices correlates with social alienation, diminished empathy, weakened family bonds, and increased psychological distress.¹² Children increasingly turn not to parents or parish, but to online figures—“influencers” and digital communities—for belonging and moral formation. These do not merely entertain; they catechise.¹³

Alongside digital saturation, parental absence in its many modern forms—divorce, single parenthood, economic overwork, irregular schedules, and chronic time poverty—further erodes family communion. The causes differ. The effects are strikingly consistent.

Children need more than provision. They need presence—predictable, attentive, emotionally engaged presence. Where this is fragmented or absent, vulnerability to anxiety, insecurity, and external influence increases markedly.¹⁴ Even where material provision is adequate, the loss of shared rhythms and stable relational authority leaves a formative gap that cannot easily be filled.¹⁵

Even in intact families, modern work patterns increasingly function as a form of absence. Long hours and constant connectivity steadily erode shared meals, conversation, and intergenerational time—activities repeatedly shown to protect mental health and social development.¹⁶

The Domestic Church as the School of Communion

If the family has been wounded by isolation and fragmentation, it is also within the family that healing must ordinarily begin. The Church has long spoken of the Christian household as the domestic Church—not as a metaphor, but as a lived reality. The family is the first place where the Gospel is practised before it is explained, and where communion is learned through habit as much as instruction.

In an age marked by disconnection, the ordinary life of a Catholic family becomes quietly countercultural. It does not argue against isolation; it simply lives otherwise.

This witness is profoundly ordinary. It is built through shared practices that form the soul over time: common meals, common prayer, shared reading and study, conversation, work, rest, and recreation. These are not optional embellishments. They are the ordinary means by which human beings learn how to belong.

The shared family meal is among the most powerful acts of resistance to fragmentation. Gathered around a table, without distraction, families learn patience, attentiveness, gratitude, and restraint. Conversation unfolds across generations. Research consistently associates regular family meals with improved mental health, reduced risk behaviours, stronger academic outcomes, and greater emotional resilience in children and adolescents.¹⁷

Family prayer anchors the household in its true centre. Whether through the Rosary, Scripture, simple forms of the Divine Office, or nightly prayer, families who pray together learn that life is received, not manufactured. Shared religious practice within the home is associated with greater psychological stability, stronger moral formation, and increased resilience in children and adolescents.¹⁸

Shared reading and study deepen this communion further. When families read together—Scripture, history, the lives of the saints, or serious literature—they enter a common narrative larger than themselves. Shared reading correlates with improved language development, attention, empathy, and long-term educational outcomes, while also strengthening relational bonds.¹⁹

Time spent together without agenda—play, work, and simple presence—is equally essential. Such time cannot be replaced by devices or programmes. It is here that children learn humour, forgiveness, perseverance, and the art of living with others who are not curated to their preferences.²⁰

None of this requires perfection. Catholic family life is not an idealised image free from tension or fatigue. It is a school of charity precisely because it involves weakness and perseverance. Fidelity, not flawlessness, is what bears fruit.

When lived consistently, the domestic Church bears visible fruit beyond the household. Children formed in stable, prayerful families tend to exhibit greater emotional security and stronger identity. Guests notice the atmosphere. Friends are drawn to the peace that arises not from ease, but from order. In this way, families evangelise without slogans.

Septuagesima prepares us to reclaim this vision. As Lent approaches, the Church calls families not first to extraordinary penances, but to renewed fidelity in ordinary life. The restoration of communion begins at home. From ordered households, wounded communities are healed.

The Church does not respond to this crisis with condemnation, but with truth and mercy. She knows that many carry wounds they did not choose: isolation, loss, fear, interrupted education, incarceration, broken routines, and fractured relationships. Communion cannot be commanded into existence, and it cannot be rebuilt overnight. But it can be healed—patiently and concretely—when grace is received and relationships are restored.²¹

Christ does not save isolated individuals. He gathers. He forms a Body. He establishes a household of faith in which no one is meant to stand alone. The Church herself is not an institution added onto belief; she is the sacrament of communion—where divine life is shared and human bonds are restored.²²

Communion is not a sentimental ideal; it is the motivation and the goal of the Gospel. Christ dies not merely to forgive sins, but to reconcile—to God and to one another. Lent will school us in this reconciliation. Septuagesima prepares us to recognise our need for it.

As we stand at the threshold of the holy season, the Church invites us to ask difficult but necessary questions. Where has communion been lost in our lives? Where have we substituted isolation for freedom, distraction for presence, autonomy for love?

May we enter Lent with honesty, humility, and courage—ready to labour again in the vineyard, not as isolated workers, but as a people restored to communion in Christ.

Oremus pro invicem.

I.X.

A formal signature of Jerome Seleisi, featuring an ornate script.

Brichtelmestunensis
S. Martinæ Virginis et Martyris MMXXVI A.D.

Oremus

Deus, Pater noster,
qui nos non ad solitudinem, sed ad communionem creasti,
respice propitius super populum tuum.

Tu, qui es Trinitas caritatis,
et ex abundantia amoris tui nos ad imaginem tuam formasti,
sana vulnera divisionis et solitudinis quae animas nostras gravant.

Dona nobis humilitatem cordis,
ut veram libertatem non in separatione, sed in caritate inveniamus;
ut ad te redeamus non ut singuli dispersi,
sed ut corpus unum in Christo reconcilia­tum.

Confirma familias nostras,
ut fiant Ecclesiae domesticae,
ubi fides colitur, caritas exercetur,
et communio cotidie renovatur.

Praepara nos hoc tempore Septuagesimae
ad fructum paenitentiae in Quadragesima,
ut, reconciliati Deo et invicem,
ad plenitudinem vitae in Christo perveniamus.

Per Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum,
qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitate Spiritus Sancti, Deus, per omnia saecula saeculorum.
Amen.

O God, our Father,
who created us not for isolation but for communion,
look with mercy upon your people.

You who are the Trinity of love,
and who formed us in your image from the abundance of your charity,
heal the wounds of division and loneliness that burden our souls.

Grant us humility of heart,
that we may find true freedom not in separation, but in love;
that we may return to you not as scattered individuals,
but as one Body reconciled in Christ.

Strengthen our families,
that they may become domestic churches,
where faith is nurtured, charity is practised,
and communion is renewed day by day.

Prepare us in this season of Septuagesima
for the fruitful penance of Lent,
so that, reconciled with God and with one another,
we may attain the fullness of life in Christ.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever.
Amen.


Footnotes

  1. Office for National Statistics (UK), Loneliness—What characteristics and circumstances are associated with feeling lonely?; Cigna Group, Loneliness Index (2018–2023).
  2. World Health Organization, Considerations for Quarantine in the Context of COVID-19 (2020).
  3. Loades et al., “Impact of Social Isolation on Children and Adolescents,” Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry 59 (2020).
  4. Stuart Grassian, “Psychiatric Effects of Solitary Confinement,” Washington University Journal of Law & Policy 22 (2006).
  5. Haney, “Mental Health Issues in Long-Term Solitary Confinement,” Crime & Delinquency 49 (2003).
  6. Genesis 2:18; Augustine, De Genesi ad Litteram, IX.
  7. Augustine, De Trinitate, I–IV.
  8. Cacioppo & Patrick, Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection (2008).
  9. Charles Taylor, The Ethics of Authenticity (1992).
  10. NHS England, Mental Health of Children and Young People (2022).
  11. Catechism of the Catholic Church §§2201–2206.
  12. Twenge, iGen (2017); Orben & Przybylski, Nature Human Behaviour 3 (2019).
  13. Livingstone et al., Children, Risk and Safety Online (Policy Press, 2012).
  14. Bowlby, Attachment and Loss, Vol. 1 (1969); Lamb (ed.), The Role of the Father in Child Development (Wiley, 2010).
  15. Amato, “Consequences of Divorce for Adults and Children,” Journal of Marriage and Family 62 (2000).
  16. Fiese et al., “Family Mealtimes: A Contextual Approach,” Journal of Family Psychology 20 (2006).
  17. Fiese & Schwartz, “Reclaiming the Family Table,” Journal of Family Psychology 22 (2008); Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, The Family Dinner Project.
  18. Pew Research Center, The Transmission of Religious Beliefs and Practices (2019); King & Furrow, “Religion as a Resource for Positive Youth Development,” Journal of Psychology and Christianity 23 (2004).
  19. OECD, PISA Reading Literacy Framework; Mol & Bus, “To Read or Not to Read,” Review of Educational Research 81 (2011).
  20. Milkie et al., “Time with Children and Adolescent Well-Being,” Journal of Marriage and Family 77 (2015).
  21. Pius XII, Summi Pontificatus, §§27–29.
  22. Lumen Gentium §§1, 7 (in continuity with perennial ecclesiology).

LATIN

Non est bonum esse hominem solum

Epistula pastoralis pro tempore Septuagesimae
de communione, conversione et sanatione vitae communis

Dilectissimi in Christo,

Ecclesia, dum antiquum tempus Septuagesimae ingreditur, nondum nos ad ieiunium adigit, sed ad memoriam nos graviter advocat. Consulto enim atque sobrie nos ad limen Quadragesimae sistit. Alleluia silent. Liturgy severior fit. Revocamur ad condicionem nostram: nos ad orientem Eden vivere, mundum vulnere peccati affectum esse, hominemque non naturaliter in perfecta concordia consistere—neque cum Deo, neque cum proximi, neque etiam secum ipso.

Septuagesima tempus est lucidae veritatis. Priusquam disciplina Quadragesimae incipiat, Ecclesia nos instruit cur disciplina ipsa necessaria sit.

Vivimus aetate quae libertatem assidue praedicat, sed solitudine graviter premitur. Solitudo inter communissimas experientias vitae hodiernae numeratur—non solum apud senes aut marginales, sed etiam apud iuvenes, eruditos, ac materialibus bonis abundantes. Familiae dissolvuntur. Amicitiae languescunt. Communitates debilitantur. Multi hominum multitudine circumdati sunt, et tamen intime soli remanent.

Haec solitudo non est tantum incommodum sociale. Est vulnus spirituale.

Hoc vulnus his annis recentioribus acrius patefactum est experientia clausurarum publicarum. Per longum tempus cursus ordinarius vitae humanae interruptus est. Familia separatae sunt; senes segregati; pueri a sodalibus avulsi; cultus communis suspensus. Quod tamquam remedium temporarium proponebatur, vestigia diuturna in mente atque affectibus hominum reliquit—vestigia quae sublatis restrictionibus non evanuerunt.

Multis, praesertim iuvenibus, anni maxime formativi in solitudine coacta transacti sunt, eo ipso tempore quo identitas, fiducia et facultas communionis per praesentiam corporalem ordinatim conformantur. Praesentia per instrumenta substituta est; proximitas affectuum in distantiam versa. Etiam nunc manent effectus: anxietas, recessus socialis, difficultas relationes stabiliendi, sensus alienationis late diffusus.

Haec tamen non sunt phaenomena nova. Iam diu observantur ubicumque communio deliberata subtrahitur.

Qui in carceribus pastorale ministerium exercent, iam pridem noverunt quid solitudo diuturna animae humanae inferat. Testimonium psychologicum et pastorale concorditer demonstrat clausuram solitariam prolixam confusionem, anxietatem, obtusionem affectuum atque laesiones diuturnas efficere. Non est haec comparatio rhetorica, sed iudicium morale.

Homo non est ad solitudinem longam sine detrimento sustinendam creatus. Sive poena, sive lex, sive morbus, sive metus eam imponat, separatio a communione personam paulatim erodit. Quod carceres extremo modo manifestant, societas hodierna latius iam experta est.

Hic Septuagesima lumen affert. Monet enim pugnam hominis non solum socialem aut psychicam esse, sed theologicam. Vulnerati sumus quia communio disrupta est—et quia obliti sumus ad quid communio ordinetur.

In ipso corde huius crisis stat veritas neglecta: homo ad communionem creatus est. Non ad solitudinem. Non ad sui ipsius fabricationem. Non ad autonomiam solitariam. Ab initio Deus pronuntiat: Non est bonum esse hominem solum (Gen 2,18). Hoc non est affectus, sed anthropologia.

Ipse Deus solitarius non est.
Est communio aeterna: Pater, Filius et Spiritus Sanctus—distincti, sed perfecte caritate coniuncti. Creatio non ex defectu, sed ex abundantia divina procedit. Imaginem Dei gerere significat igitur ad relationem ordinari—ad communionem cum Deo et cum aliis.

Quapropter solitudo neque distractione, neque stimulatione, neque sui expressione sanatur. Solummodo communione restituta curatur. Experientia clausurarum et incarcerationis hoc aperte testatur. Ubi communio nimis diu sublata est, anima frangi incipit.

Cultura tamen nostra contrarium magis magisque inculcat. Dependere pro infirmitate habetur; obligatio pro oppressione; plenitudo vitae pro radicali sui definitione. Vincula familiaris ad praeferentias rediguntur; traditio pro onere reputatur. Sub specie libertatis, multi a relationibus ipsis seiunguntur quae libertatem humanam sustentant.

Clausurae hanc mentem non genuerunt, sed corroboraverunt. Solitudo normalis facta est; recessus moralizatus; ipsa praesentia suspecta. Multis—praesertim iuvenibus—hoc diffidentiam iam crescentem erga communitatem incarnatam confirmavit. Quod ut necessitas coepit, in consuetudinem abiit. Rursus discere ad alios pertinere difficilius evasit.

Dissolutio familiae inter manifestissima huius rupturae signa numeratur. Familia non est structura arbitraria nec optio privata, sed prima schola communionis. Ibi homo primum discit sacrificium, auctoritatem, adscriptionem et amorem; ibi identitas recipitur ante electionem; ibi libertas per responsabilitatem formatur.

Hodie fractio familiae saepe etiam fit ubi domus corpore integra manet. Ruptura non semper absentia est, sed mediatio. Instrumenta electronica et ambitus algorithmici convivia, colloquia et attentionem mutuam tacite substituunt. Praesentia manet; communio deficit.

Investigationes constanter ostendunt usum inordinatum instrumentorum digitalium cum alienatione sociali, imminutio empathiae, debilitatione vinculi familiaris atque incremento perturbationis psychologicae coniungi. Pueri magis magisque ad figuras digitales quam ad parentes aut parochiam convertuntur ad sensum adscriptionis et formationem moralem. Non solum delectant; formant.

Huic saturationi adiungitur absentia parentum variis formis hodiernis—divortium, uniparentalitas, nimia occupatio laboris, tempora inaequalia, penuria temporis—quae communionem domesticam ulterius corrumpunt. Causae variant; effectus fere idem manent.

Pueri plus indigent quam rebus materialibus. Indigent praesentia—stabili, attenta, affectuosa. Ubi haec deficit, vulnerabilitas ad anxietatem, incertitudinem et influxus externos augetur. Etiam ubi subsidia adsunt, amissio rhythmorum communium et auctoritatis relationalis vacuum formativum relinquit.

Etiam in familiis integris, rationes laboris hodiernae sensim in absentiam degenerant. Horae prolixae et connexio continua convivia communia, colloquia et tempus inter generationes consumunt—opera ad sanitatem mentis et progressionem socialem necessaria.

Ecclesia domestica, schola communionis

Si familia solitudine et fragmentatione vulnerata est, in ipsa familia sanatio ordinarie incipit. Ecclesia domum christianam Ecclesiam domesticam appellat—non per metaphoram, sed ut rem viventem. Familia est primus locus ubi Evangelium vivitur antequam explicetur, et ubi communio per consuetudinem discitur.

In aetate disiunctionis, vita ordinaria familiae catholicae tacite fit contra-culturam. Non contra solitudinem disputat; aliter vivit.

Ex communibus consuetudinibus nascitur hoc testimonium: convivia communia, oratio communis, lectio et studium, colloquium, labor, quies et recreatio. Haec sunt media ordinaria quibus homines discunt ad se invicem pertinere.

Convivium familiare est unus ex efficacissimis actibus contra fragmentationem. Circa mensam congregati, patientiam, attentionem, gratiam et moderationem discunt. Sermones inter generationes fluunt. Id experientia confirmat utilissimum esse ad sanitatem mentis, moderationem morum et firmitatem affectivam.

Oratio communis domum in suo vero centro collocat. Familia quae simul orat discit vitam accipi, non fabricari. Hic habitus stabilitatem moralem et constantiam animi fovet.

Lectio communis familiam in narrationem latiorem inducit—Scripturae, historiae, vitae sanctorum—qua lingua, empathia et iudicium formantur simulque vincula roborantur.

Tempus sine consilio una actum—ludus, labor, vel simplex praesentia—aeque necessarium est. Hic pueri discunt veniam, perseverantiam et artem convivendi.

Haec omnia perfectionem non exigunt. Vita familiaris catholica schola caritatis est quia fragilitatem et constantiam complectitur. Fidelitas, non impeccantia, fructum fert.

Ubi constanter vivitur, Ecclesia domestica etiam extra domum fructificat. Pueri securitatem affectivam ac identitatem firmiorem ostendunt. Hospites pacem sentiunt. Amici ad ordinem caritatis attrahuntur. Ita familiae sine verbis evangelizant.

Septuagesima nos ad hanc visionem recuperandam praeparat. Ecclesia familias non ad extraordinaria primum vocat, sed ad fidelitatem ordinariam renovandam. Communio domi instaurata communitates sanat.

Ecclesia huic crisi veritate et misericordia respondet, non condemnatione. Communio imperari non potest, nec subito reparari; sed sanari potest, ubi gratia recipitur et relationes restituuntur.

Christus non solitarios salvat. Vocat, congregat, Corpus format. Ecclesia non est fidei additamentum, sed sacramentum communionis, ubi vita divina communicatur et vincula humana curantur.

Communio non est affectus, sed finis et motus Evangelii. Christus non solum peccata dimittit, sed reconciliat. Quadragesima nos ad hoc opus format; Septuagesima ad eius necessitatem agnoscendam nos disponit.

Ingrediamur igitur Quadragesimam cum veritate, humilitate et fortitudine—parati rursus in vinea laborare, non ut operarii solitarii, sed ut populus in communione Christi restitutus.


TAGALOG

Hindi Nilalang Upang Maging Mag-isa

Isang Pastoral na Liham para sa Septuagesima tungkol sa Pakikipag-ugnayan, Pagbabalik-loob, at Pagpapagaling ng Ating Sama-samang Buhay

Mga Minamahal kay Cristo,

Sa pagpasok ng Simbahan sa sinaunang panahon ng Septuagesima, hindi pa niya tayo inuutusang mag-ayuno, ngunit malinaw niya tayong inaanyayahang umalaala. Sinasadya at may kabigatan niya tayong inilalagay sa pintuan ng Kuwaresma. Tumatahimik ang mga alleluia. Nagiging mas payak ang liturhiya. Ipinapaalala sa atin na tayo’y nabubuhay sa silangan ng Eden—na ang daigdig ay sugatan, at ang tao ay hindi likás na namumuhay sa ganap na pagkakaisa: sa Diyos, sa kapwa, ni maging sa kanyang sarili.

Ang Septuagesima ay panahon ng pagharap sa katotohanan. Bago magsimula ang disiplina ng Kuwaresma, itinuturo muna ng Simbahan kung bakit kinakailangan ang disiplina.

Nabubuhay tayo sa isang panahon na walang tigil sa pagsasalita tungkol sa kalayaan, ngunit labis na nagdurusa sa pag-iisa. Ang kalungkutan ay isa sa pinakakaraniwang karanasan sa makabagong buhay—nararanasan hindi lamang ng matatanda o mga nasa laylayan, kundi pati ng kabataan, ng mga may pinag-aralan, at ng mga may sapat na kabuhayan. Nagkakawatak-watak ang mga pamilya. Kumakaunti ang tunay na pagkakaibigan. Humihina ang mga pamayanan. Marami ang napapalibutan ng tao, ngunit nananatiling malalim ang pag-iisa.¹

Ang ganitong kalungkutan ay hindi lamang isang suliraning panlipunan. Ito ay isang sugat ng espiritu.

Sa mga nagdaang taon, ang sugat na ito ay lalong lumalim dahil sa karanasan ng mga lockdown noong pandemya ng COVID. Sa loob ng mahabang panahon, naputol ang karaniwang takbo ng buhay ng tao. Nagkahiwalay ang mga pamilya. Nahiwalay ang mga matatanda. Napagkaitan ang mga bata ng ugnayan sa kanilang mga kalaro. Naputol ang sama-samang pagsamba. Ang inilarawan bilang pansamantalang hakbang ay nag-iwan ng pangmatagalang bakas sa isipan at damdamin ng tao—mga bakas na hindi basta naglaho nang alisin ang mga restriksiyon.²

Para sa marami, lalo na ang kabataan, ang mga panahong humuhubog sa pagkatao ay ginugol sa sapilitang pag-iisa—sa mismong yugto ng buhay kung kailan karaniwang nahuhubog ang pagkakakilanlan, tiwala, at kakayahang makipag-ugnayan sa pamamagitan ng buhay at pisikal na relasyon. Napalitan ng mga screen ang presensya. Napalitan ng distansya ang lambing. Hanggang ngayon, nananatili ang mga epekto: pagkabalisa, pag-iwas sa pakikisalamuha, hirap sa pagbuo ng matibay na ugnayan, at malalim na pakiramdam ng pagkakahiwalay.³

Hindi bago ang mga epektong ito. Matagal na itong nasasaksihan sa mga lugar kung saan sinasadyang alisin ang pakikipag-ugnayan.

Matagal nang batid ng mga naglilingkod sa mga bilangguan kung ano ang idinudulot ng matagal na pag-iisa sa kaluluwa ng tao. Pinatutunayan ng sikolohiya at ng karanasang pastoral na ang matagal na solitary confinement ay nagdudulot ng pagkalito, matinding pagkabalisa, pamamanhid ng damdamin, at pangmatagalang pinsala.⁴ Hindi ito palamuti ng pananalita. Isa itong aral na moral.

Ang tao ay hindi nilikha upang magtiis ng matagal na pag-iisa nang hindi napipinsala. Maging ito man ay bunga ng parusa, patakaran, karamdaman, o takot, ang pagkakahiwalay mula sa pakikipag-ugnayan ay unti-unting sumisira sa pagkatao. Ang matagal nang nakikita sa mga bilangguan sa pinakamatinding anyo ay naranasan na ngayon ng mas malawak na lipunan.⁵

Tinutulungan tayo ng Septuagesima na maunawaan kung bakit. Ipinapaalala nito na ang pakikibaka ng tao ay hindi lamang panlipunan o sikolohikal, kundi teolohikal. Tayo’y sugatan sapagkat naputol ang pakikipag-ugnayan—at sapagkat nakalimutan natin kung para saan ito.

Sa puso ng krisis na ito ay isang nakalimutang katotohanan: ang tao ay nilikha para sa pakikipag-ugnayan. Hindi para sa pag-iisa. Hindi para sa sariling paglikha. Hindi para sa ganap na awtonomiya. Mula pa sa simula ay sinabi ng Diyos: Hindi mabuti na ang tao ay mag-isa (Gen 2:18). Hindi ito damdamin; ito ay katotohanang ukol sa likás ng tao.⁶

Ang Diyos mismo ay hindi nag-iisa.
Siya ay walang hanggang pakikipag-ugnayan: Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo—magkakaiba, ngunit ganap na nagkakaisa sa pag-ibig. Ang paglikha ay hindi nagmula sa kakulangan ng Diyos, kundi sa Kanyang kasaganaan. Kaya’t ang pagiging nilikha sa wangis at larawan ng Diyos ay nangangahulugang pagiging likás na nakatuon sa ugnayan—sa Diyos at sa kapwa.⁷

Samakatuwid, ang kalungkutan ay hindi napagagaling ng libangan, labis na stimulasyon, o pagpapahayag ng sarili. Ito ay napagagaling lamang ng muling pagbabalik ng pakikipag-ugnayan. Malinaw itong ipinakikita ng karanasan ng lockdown at ng pagkakakulong. Kapag matagal na inalis ang pakikipag-ugnayan, nagsisimulang mabiyak ang kaluluwa.⁸

Gayunman, itinuturo ng ating kultura ang kabaligtaran. Ang pag-asa sa kapwa ay itinuturing na kahinaan. Ang pananagutan ay itinuturing na pang-aapi. Ang katuparan ay inihaharap bilang radikal na paglikha ng sarili. Ang ugnayang pampamilya ay ginagawang usapin ng personal na kagustuhan. Ang pamana ay itinuturing na pabigat. Sa ngalan ng kalayaan, marami ang tahimik na inihihiwalay sa mismong mga ugnayang nagbibigay-buhay sa kalayaan.⁹

Hindi nilikha ng lockdown ang ganitong kaisipan, ngunit pinalala nito. Ang pag-iisa ay naging normal. Ang pag-iwas ay ginawang moral na tungkulin. Ang presensya mismo ay itinuring na panganib. Para sa marami—lalo na ang kabataan—pinagtibay nito ang dati nang pag-aalinlangan sa buhay at pisikal na pamayanan. Ang nagsimula bilang emerhensiya ay naging ugali. Ang muling pagkatutong makibahagi sa kapwa ay naging mahirap.¹⁰

Ang pagkasira ng pamilya ay isa sa pinakamalinaw na tanda ng pagkakaputol na ito. Ang pamilya ay hindi isang panlipunang kaayusan o estilo ng pamumuhay. Ito ang pangunahing paaralan ng pakikipag-ugnayan. Dito unang natututuhan ng tao ang sakripisyo, awtoridad, pag-aari, at pag-ibig—dito tinatanggap ang pagkakakilanlan bago ito piliin, at hinuhubog ang kalayaan sa pamamagitan ng pananagutan.¹¹

Sa kasalukuyan, ang pagkasira ng pamilya ay madalas mangyari kahit buo pa sa pisikal na anyo ang sambahayan. Hindi laging kawalan ang sanhi, kundi pamamagitan. Tahimik na pinapalitan ng mga screen, gadget, at algorithm ang pagsasalo ng pagkain, pag-uusap, at pagbibigay-pansin. Nananatili ang presensya, ngunit humihina ang pakikipag-ugnayan.

Patuloy na ipinakikita ng pananaliksik na ang labis at walang kaayusang paggamit ng mga aparatong konektado sa internet ay kaugnay ng paglayo sa kapwa, pagbawas ng empatiya, paghina ng ugnayang pampamilya, at paglala ng kalagayang sikolohikal.¹² Lalong bumabaling ang mga bata hindi sa magulang o parokya, kundi sa mga online na pigura—mga “influencer” at digital na pamayanan—para sa pakiramdam ng pag-aari at paghubog ng moralidad. Hindi lamang sila naglilibang; sila ay naghuhubog.¹³

Kasabay ng labis na impluwensiyang digital, ang kawalan ng presensya ng magulang sa iba’t ibang anyo nito—diborsyo, pagiging solong magulang, labis na trabaho, pabago-bagong iskedyul, at kakulangan ng oras—ay lalo pang sumisira sa pakikipag-ugnayang pampamilya. Iba-iba ang sanhi, ngunit magkakatulad ang epekto.

Ang mga bata ay nangangailangan ng higit pa sa materyal na suporta. Kailangan nila ng presensya—tiyak, mapagmatyag, at may pusong nakikibahagi. Kapag ito’y naputol o nawala, lumalaki ang kahinaan sa pagkabalisa, kawalan ng katiyakan, at impluwensiyang panlabas.¹⁴ Kahit sapat ang materyal na tulong, ang pagkawala ng magkakasamang ritmo at matatag na awtoridad ay nag-iiwan ng puwang na mahirap punan.¹⁵

Kahit sa mga pamilyang buo, ang makabagong paraan ng trabaho ay nagiging anyo rin ng kawalan. Ang mahabang oras at tuluy-tuloy na koneksyon ay unti-unting sumisira sa pagsasalo ng pagkain, pag-uusap, at ugnayang intergenerational—mga gawaing napatunayang mahalaga sa kalusugang mental at panlipunang pag-unlad.¹⁶

Ang Domestikong Simbahan bilang Paaralan ng Pakikipag-ugnayan

Kung ang pamilya ay nasugatan ng pag-iisa at pagkakawatak-watak, sa loob din ng pamilya karaniwang nagsisimula ang paggaling. Matagal nang tinatawag ng Simbahan ang sambahayang Kristiyano bilang domestikong Simbahan—hindi bilang talinghaga, kundi bilang isang buhay na realidad. Ang pamilya ang unang lugar kung saan isinasabuhay ang Ebanghelyo bago ito ipinaliwanag, at kung saan natututuhan ang pakikipag-ugnayan sa pamamagitan ng ugali at gawain.

Sa panahong laganap ang pagkakahiwalay, ang karaniwang buhay ng pamilyang Katoliko ay nagiging tahimik ngunit makapangyarihang kontra-kultura. Hindi ito nakikipagtalo laban sa pag-iisa; simple nitong isinabubuhay ang kabaligtaran.

Ang patotoong ito ay payak ngunit malalim. Nabubuo ito sa mga magkakasamang gawain na dahan-dahang humuhubog sa kaluluwa: sama-samang pagkain, sama-samang panalangin, sabayang pagbabasa at pag-aaral, tapat na pag-uusap, paggawa, pahinga, at libangan. Hindi ito mga dagdag na gawain lamang sa buhay-pamilya. Ito ang karaniwang mga paraan kung paano natututuhan ng tao ang pakikibahagi at pakikipamuhay sa kapwa.

Ang pagsasalo ng pagkain ng pamilya ay isa sa pinakamabisang panlaban sa pagkakawatak-watak. Sa pag-upo sa iisang hapag, nang walang distraksiyon, natututuhan ang pagtitiyaga, pakikinig, pasasalamat, at pagpipigil sa sarili. Ang usapan ay kusang dumadaloy sa pagitan ng mga henerasyon. Patuloy na ipinakikita ng pananaliksik na ang regular na family meals ay kaugnay ng mas mabuting kalusugang mental, mas kaunting mapanganib na asal, mas matatag na pagganap sa paaralan, at mas malalim na emosyonal na katatagan ng mga bata at kabataan.¹⁷

Ang panalangin ng pamilya ang nagbabalik ng sambahayan sa tunay nitong sentro. Sa pamamagitan man ng Rosaryo, Banal na Kasulatan, payak na anyo ng Liturhiya ng mga Oras, o panalangin bago matulog, ang mga pamilyang sabay na nananalangin ay natututuhan na ang buhay ay tinatanggap, hindi nililikha. Ang sabayang pananalangin sa tahanan ay kaugnay ng mas matatag na sikolohikal na kalagayan, mas malinaw na paghubog ng moralidad, at mas mataas na katatagan sa harap ng pagsubok.¹⁸

Ang sabayang pagbabasa at pag-aaral ay lalo pang nagpapalalim ng pakikipag-ugnayan. Kapag magkakasamang nagbabasa ang pamilya—ng Banal na Kasulatan, kasaysayan, buhay ng mga santo, o makabuluhang panitikan—pumapasok sila sa iisang salaysay na higit na malawak kaysa sa sarili nilang karanasan. Ang ganitong gawain ay kaugnay ng mas mahusay na pag-unlad ng wika, empatiya, kakayahang mag-isip nang may lalim, at pangmatagalang tagumpay sa edukasyon, habang pinatitibay ang ugnayang pampamilya.¹⁹

Ang oras na magkakasama nang walang itinakdang layunin—laro, trabaho, o simpleng presensya—ay kasinghalaga rin. Hindi ito mapapalitan ng mga gadget, iskedyul, o programang panlabas. Dito natututuhan ng mga bata ang pagpapatawad, pagtitiis, katatawanan, at ang sining ng pamumuhay kasama ang iba—hindi bilang mga produktong iniayon sa sariling kagustuhan, kundi bilang mga taong minamahal sa kabila ng pagkakaiba.²⁰

Wala sa mga ito ang humihingi ng kasakdalan. Ang buhay-pamilyang Katoliko ay hindi isang huwarang larawan na walang tensiyon o pagod. Ito ay isang paaralan ng pag-ibig sapagkat may kahinaan, pagkukulang, at patuloy na pagsisikap. Ang katapatan, hindi pagiging perpekto, ang tunay na nagbubunga.

Kapag isinabuhay nang tuluy-tuloy, ang domestikong Simbahan ay nagbubunga hindi lamang sa loob ng tahanan kundi lampas dito. Ang mga batang hinubog sa matatag at mapanalanging pamilya ay karaniwang mas ligtas ang damdamin at mas malinaw ang pagkakakilanlan. Napapansin ng mga panauhin ang kapayapaan. Nahihikayat ang mga kaibigan sa kaayusang nagmumula hindi sa kaginhawaan, kundi sa kaayusan ng pag-ibig. Sa ganitong paraan, ang pamilya ay nag-eebanghelyo nang hindi gumagamit ng islogan.

Inihahanda tayo ng Septuagesima na muling yakapin ang ganitong pananaw. Habang papalapit ang Kuwaresma, inaanyayahan ng Simbahan ang mga pamilya hindi agad sa pambihirang penitensiya, kundi sa panibagong katapatan sa pang-araw-araw na buhay. Nagsisimula sa tahanan ang pagpapanumbalik ng pakikipag-ugnayan. Mula sa mga sambahayang may kaayusan, unti-unting gumagaling ang sugatang pamayanan.

Hindi tumutugon ang Simbahan sa krisis na ito sa pamamagitan ng paghatol, kundi sa pamamagitan ng katotohanan at awa. Batid niya na marami ang may dalang sugat na hindi nila pinili: pag-iisa, pagkawala, takot, naputol na edukasyon, pagkakakulong, sirang ritmo ng buhay, at basag na ugnayan. Ang pakikipag-ugnayan ay hindi maaaring ipag-utos, at hindi ito agad naibabalik. Ngunit maaari itong pagalingin—dahan-dahan at sa konkretong paraan—kapag tinatanggap ang biyaya at muling itinatayo ang mga ugnayan.²¹

Hindi inililigtas ni Cristo ang mga tao bilang magkakahiwalay na indibidwal. Kanyang tinatawag. Kanyang tinitipon. Kanyang binubuo ang isang Katawan. Itinatatag Niya ang isang sambahayan ng pananampalataya kung saan walang sinumang dapat manatiling nag-iisa. Ang Simbahan mismo ay hindi idinagdag lamang sa paniniwala; siya ang sakramento ng pakikipag-ugnayan—kung saan ang buhay ng Diyos ay ibinabahagi at ang ugnayan ng tao ay pinapanumbalik.²²

Ang pakikipag-ugnayan ay hindi isang sentimental na ideya; ito ang motibasyon at layunin ng Ebanghelyo. Hindi lamang namatay si Cristo upang patawarin ang kasalanan, kundi upang pagkaisahin—sa Diyos at sa isa’t isa. Ang Kuwaresma ang magtuturo sa atin ng ganitong pagkakasundo. Inihahanda tayo ng Septuagesima upang makilala ang ating pangangailangan nito.

Habang tayo’y nakatayo sa pintuan ng banal na panahon, inaanyayahan tayo ng Simbahan na itanong ang mahihirap ngunit kailangang tanong:
Saan natin nawala ang pakikipag-ugnayan sa ating buhay?
Saan natin ipinagpalit ang kalayaan sa pag-iisa, ang presensya sa distraksiyon, ang pag-ibig sa awtonomiya?

Nawa’y pumasok tayo sa Kuwaresma nang may katapatan, kababaang-loob, at lakas ng loob—handang muling magpagal sa ubasan, hindi bilang mga nag-iisang manggagawa, kundi bilang isang bayan na muling ibinalik sa pakikipag-ugnayan kay Cristo.


ESPANOL

No Fuimos Creados para Estar Solos

Carta Pastoral para Septuagésima sobre la Comunión, la Conversión y la Sanación de Nuestra Vida Común

Amados en Cristo,

Al entrar la Iglesia en el antiguo tiempo de Septuagésima, aún no nos manda ayunar, pero sí nos llama claramente a recordar. Nos coloca deliberadamente, con sobriedad y gravedad, en el umbral de la Cuaresma. Los aleluyas enmudecen. La liturgia se vuelve más contenida. Se nos recuerda que vivimos al oriente del Edén: que el mundo está herido y que el hombre no habita naturalmente en plena armonía —ni con Dios, ni con los demás, ni siquiera consigo mismo.

La Septuagésima es un tiempo de realismo. Antes de que comience la disciplina cuaresmal, la Iglesia nos enseña por qué la disciplina es necesaria.

Vivimos en una época que habla incesantemente de libertad y, sin embargo, sufre profundamente de aislamiento. La soledad se ha convertido en una de las experiencias más extendidas de la vida moderna —no sólo entre los ancianos o los marginados, sino también entre los jóvenes, los instruidos y los materialmente seguros. Las familias se fragmentan. Las amistades se debilitan. Las comunidades se erosionan. Muchos se encuentran rodeados de personas y, sin embargo, profundamente solos.¹

Esta soledad no es sólo una incomodidad social. Es una herida espiritual.

En los últimos años, esta herida se ha profundizado de modo particular a causa de la experiencia de los confinamientos por la COVID. Durante largos meses, se suspendieron los ritmos ordinarios de la vida humana. Las familias fueron separadas. Los ancianos quedaron aislados. Los niños fueron apartados de sus compañeros. El culto comunitario fue interrumpido. Lo que se presentó como una medida temporal de emergencia dejó marcas duraderas en la psique humana —marcas que no simplemente desaparecieron con el levantamiento de las restricciones.²

Para muchos, especialmente los jóvenes, años decisivos para la formación de la identidad fueron vividos en aislamiento forzado, precisamente en la etapa en que la confianza, la pertenencia y la capacidad de relación suelen forjarse mediante vínculos encarnados y reales. Las pantallas sustituyeron a la presencia. La distancia reemplazó al afecto. Hasta hoy persisten los efectos: ansiedad, retraimiento social, dificultad para formar relaciones estables y una sensación generalizada de desconexión.³

Estos efectos no son nuevos. Han sido observados desde hace tiempo allí donde la comunión es retirada de forma deliberada.

Quienes ejercen su ministerio en las cárceles conocen desde hace décadas lo que el aislamiento prolongado hace al alma humana. La observación psicológica y pastoral confirma que el confinamiento solitario prolongado produce desorientación, ansiedad, embotamiento emocional y daños duraderos.⁴ Esto no es una comparación retórica. Es una intuición moral.

El hombre no fue creado para soportar un aislamiento prolongado sin sufrir daño. Ya sea impuesto por castigo, política, enfermedad o miedo, la separación de la comunión erosiona a la persona. Lo que las cárceles muestran en su forma extrema, la sociedad moderna lo ha experimentado ahora de manera más amplia.⁵

La Septuagésima nos ayuda a comprender por qué. Nos recuerda que la lucha del hombre no es sólo social o psicológica, sino teológica. Estamos heridos porque la comunión ha sido quebrada —y porque hemos olvidado para qué existe la comunión.

En el corazón de esta crisis se encuentra una verdad olvidada: el ser humano fue creado para la comunión. No para el aislamiento. No para la auto-construcción. No para la autonomía solitaria. Desde el principio, Dios declara: No es bueno que el hombre esté solo (Gn 2,18). Esto no es sentimentalismo; es antropología.⁶

Dios mismo no es solitario.
Él es comunión eterna: Padre, Hijo y Espíritu Santo —distintos, pero perfectamente unidos en el amor. La creación no brota de una carencia divina, sino de una abundancia divina. Ser creado a imagen y semejanza de Dios significa, por tanto, estar ordenado a la relación —a la comunión con Dios y con los demás.⁷

La soledad, por consiguiente, no se cura con distracción, estimulación o autoexpresión. Sólo se sana mediante la restauración de la comunión. Las experiencias del aislamiento durante los confinamientos y del encarcelamiento lo atestiguan con dolorosa claridad. Cuando la comunión se retira durante demasiado tiempo, el alma comienza a resquebrajarse.⁸

Sin embargo, nuestra cultura enseña cada vez más lo contrario. La dependencia se presenta como debilidad. La obligación como opresión. La plenitud como auto-definición radical. Los vínculos familiares se reducen a preferencias. La herencia se considera una carga. En nombre de la libertad, muchos son silenciosamente separados de las mismas relaciones que hacen posible una libertad vivible.⁹

Los confinamientos no crearon esta mentalidad, pero la intensificaron. El aislamiento se normalizó. El retraimiento se moralizó. La presencia misma fue tratada como un riesgo. Para muchos —especialmente los jóvenes— esto confirmó una sospecha ya existente hacia la comunidad encarnada. Lo que comenzó como una emergencia se convirtió en hábito. Reaprender a pertenecer se volvió difícil.¹⁰

La desintegración de la familia es uno de los signos más claros de esta ruptura. La familia no es un arreglo social ni una opción de estilo de vida. Es la escuela primaria de la comunión. Es donde la persona humana aprende por primera vez el sacrificio, la autoridad, la pertenencia y el amor; donde la identidad se recibe antes de ser elegida y donde la libertad se forma mediante la responsabilidad.¹¹

Hoy, la ruptura familiar ocurre con frecuencia incluso cuando el hogar permanece físicamente intacto. La fractura no siempre es ausencia, sino mediación. Pantallas, dispositivos y entornos gobernados por algoritmos desplazan silenciosamente las comidas compartidas, la conversación y la atención mutua. La presencia permanece, pero la comunión se desvanece.

La investigación muestra de forma consistente que el uso intenso y desestructurado de dispositivos conectados a internet se correlaciona con alienación social, disminución de la empatía, debilitamiento de los vínculos familiares y aumento del malestar psicológico.¹² Los niños recurren cada vez más no a los padres o a la parroquia, sino a figuras en línea —“influencers” y comunidades digitales— para encontrar pertenencia y formación moral. No sólo entretienen; forman.¹³

Junto a la saturación digital, la ausencia parental en sus diversas formas modernas —divorcio, monoparentalidad, exceso de trabajo, horarios irregulares y pobreza de tiempo— erosiona aún más la comunión familiar. Las causas varían. Los efectos son notablemente constantes.

Los niños necesitan más que provisión material. Necesitan presencia —previsible, atenta y emocionalmente comprometida. Cuando esta presencia se fragmenta o desaparece, aumenta considerablemente la vulnerabilidad a la ansiedad, la inseguridad y la influencia externa.¹⁴ Incluso cuando la provisión material es suficiente, la pérdida de ritmos compartidos y de una autoridad relacional estable deja un vacío formativo difícil de llenar.¹⁵

Incluso en familias intactas, los patrones laborales modernos funcionan cada vez más como una forma de ausencia. Las largas jornadas y la conectividad constante erosionan progresivamente las comidas compartidas, la conversación y el tiempo intergeneracional —actividades que se ha demostrado protegen la salud mental y el desarrollo social.¹⁶

La Iglesia Doméstica como Escuela de Comunión

Si la familia ha sido herida por el aislamiento y la fragmentación, es también dentro de la familia donde ordinariamente debe comenzar la sanación. Desde hace mucho tiempo, la Iglesia ha hablado del hogar cristiano como Iglesia doméstica —no como metáfora, sino como realidad vivida. La familia es el primer lugar donde el Evangelio se practica antes de explicarse, y donde la comunión se aprende tanto por el hábito como por la instrucción.

En una época marcada por la desconexión, la vida ordinaria de una familia católica se convierte silenciosamente en contracultural. No discute contra el aislamiento; simplemente vive de otro modo.

Este testimonio es profundamente ordinario. Se construye mediante prácticas compartidas que forman el alma con el tiempo: comidas comunes, oración común, lectura y estudio compartidos, conversación, trabajo, descanso y recreación. No son adornos opcionales. Son los medios ordinarios por los cuales los seres humanos aprenden a pertenecer.

La comida familiar compartida es uno de los actos más poderosos de resistencia contra la fragmentación. Reunidos alrededor de una mesa, sin distracciones, las familias aprenden paciencia, atención, gratitud y dominio de sí. La conversación fluye entre generaciones. La investigación asocia de manera consistente las comidas familiares regulares con mejor salud mental, menor conductas de riesgo, mejores resultados académicos y mayor resiliencia emocional en niños y adolescentes.¹⁷

La oración familiar ancla el hogar en su verdadero centro. Ya sea mediante el Rosario, la Sagrada Escritura, formas sencillas de la Liturgia de las Horas o la oración nocturna, las familias que rezan juntas aprenden que la vida se recibe, no se fabrica. La práctica religiosa compartida en el hogar se asocia con mayor estabilidad psicológica, formación moral más sólida y mayor resiliencia en niños y jóvenes.¹⁸

La lectura y el estudio compartidos profundizan aún más esta comunión. Cuando las familias leen juntas —la Escritura, la historia, las vidas de los santos o literatura seria— entran en una narrativa común más amplia que su propia experiencia. La lectura compartida se correlaciona con mejor desarrollo del lenguaje, mayor empatía, atención y logros educativos a largo plazo, al tiempo que fortalece los vínculos relacionales.¹⁹

El tiempo compartido sin agenda —juego, trabajo o simple presencia— es igualmente esencial. No puede ser sustituido por dispositivos ni programas. Es aquí donde los niños aprenden el humor, el perdón, la perseverancia y el arte de vivir con otros que no están hechos a la medida de sus preferencias.²⁰

Nada de esto exige perfección. La vida familiar católica no es una imagen idealizada libre de tensión o cansancio. Es una escuela de caridad precisamente porque implica fragilidad y perseverancia. La fidelidad, no la impecabilidad, es lo que da fruto.

Cuando se vive con constancia, la Iglesia doméstica produce frutos visibles más allá del hogar. Los niños formados en familias estables y orantes suelen mostrar mayor seguridad emocional y una identidad más sólida. Los invitados perciben la atmósfera. Los amigos se sienten atraídos por la paz que brota no de la comodidad, sino del orden. De este modo, las familias evangelizan sin consignas.

La Septuagésima nos prepara para recuperar esta visión. Al acercarse la Cuaresma, la Iglesia invita a las familias no en primer lugar a penitencias extraordinarias, sino a una fidelidad renovada en la vida ordinaria. La restauración de la comunión comienza en el hogar. De hogares ordenados, sanan comunidades heridas.

La Iglesia no responde a esta crisis con condena, sino con verdad y misericordia. Sabe que muchos cargan heridas que no eligieron: aislamiento, pérdida, miedo, educación interrumpida, encarcelamiento, ritmos de vida quebrados y relaciones fracturadas. La comunión no puede imponerse, ni reconstruirse de la noche a la mañana. Pero puede ser sanada —paciente y concretamente— cuando la gracia es recibida y las relaciones son restauradas.²¹

Cristo no salva a las personas como individuos aislados. Él llama. Él reúne. Él forma un Cuerpo. Establece un hogar de fe en el que nadie está destinado a permanecer solo. La Iglesia misma no es un añadido a la fe; es el sacramento de la comunión, donde la vida divina se comparte y los vínculos humanos son restaurados.²²

La comunión no es un ideal sentimental; es la motivación y la meta del Evangelio. Cristo no muere sólo para perdonar pecados, sino para reconciliar —con Dios y entre nosotros. La Cuaresma nos formará en esta reconciliación. La Septuagésima nos prepara para reconocer nuestra necesidad de ella.

Al situarnos en el umbral de este tiempo santo, la Iglesia nos invita a plantearnos preguntas difíciles pero necesarias:
¿Dónde se ha perdido la comunión en nuestra vida?
¿Dónde hemos sustituido la libertad por el aislamiento, la presencia por la distracción, el amor por la autonomía?

Que entremos en la Cuaresma con honestidad, humildad y valentía —dispuestos a trabajar de nuevo en la viña, no como obreros aislados, sino como un pueblo restaurado a la comunión en Cristo.


FRANCAIS

Nous n’avons pas été créés pour être seuls

Lettre pastorale pour la Septuagésime sur la communion, la conversion et la guérison de notre vie commune

Bien-aimés dans le Christ,

Alors que l’Église entre dans l’antique temps de la Septuagésime, elle ne nous commande pas encore de jeûner, mais elle nous appelle clairement à nous souvenir. Elle nous place, délibérément et avec gravité, sur le seuil du Carême. Les alléluias se taisent. La liturgie devient plus sobre. Il nous est rappelé que nous vivons à l’est de l’Éden, que le monde est blessé, et que l’homme ne demeure pas naturellement en pleine harmonie — ni avec Dieu, ni avec les autres, ni même avec lui-même.

La Septuagésime est un temps de réalisme. Avant que ne commence la discipline du Carême, l’Église nous enseigne pourquoi cette discipline est nécessaire.

Nous vivons à une époque qui parle sans cesse de liberté et qui pourtant souffre profondément de l’isolement. La solitude est devenue l’un des traits les plus répandus de la vie moderne — touchant non seulement les personnes âgées ou marginalisées, mais aussi les jeunes, les personnes instruites et celles qui sont matériellement en sécurité. Les familles se fragmentent. Les amitiés s’amenuisent. Les communautés s’affaiblissent. Beaucoup se trouvent entourés de personnes et pourtant profondément seuls.¹

Cette solitude n’est pas seulement un désagrément social. Elle est une blessure spirituelle.

Ces dernières années, cette blessure s’est trouvée fortement aggravée par l’expérience des confinements liés à la COVID. Pendant de longs mois, les rythmes ordinaires de la vie humaine ont été suspendus. Les familles ont été séparées, les personnes âgées isolées, les enfants privés de leurs pairs, et le culte communautaire interrompu. Ce qui fut présenté comme une mesure d’urgence temporaire a laissé des marques durables dans la psyché humaine — des marques qui ne se sont pas simplement effacées avec la levée des restrictions.²

Pour beaucoup, en particulier les plus jeunes, des années décisives de formation ont été vécues dans un isolement imposé, précisément au moment où l’identité, la confiance et la capacité de relation se forgent habituellement par des relations incarnées et concrètes. Les écrans ont remplacé la présence. La distance a remplacé l’affection. Aujourd’hui encore, les effets persistent : anxiété, retrait social, difficulté à nouer des relations durables et sentiment généralisé de déconnexion.³

Ces effets ne sont pas nouveaux. Ils ont été observés depuis longtemps partout où la communion est délibérément retirée.

Ceux qui exercent leur ministère dans les prisons savent depuis des décennies ce que l’isolement prolongé fait à l’âme humaine. L’observation psychologique et pastorale confirme que le confinement cellulaire prolongé produit désorientation, anxiété, émoussement affectif et dommages durables.⁴ Il ne s’agit pas d’une comparaison rhétorique, mais d’une intuition morale.

L’homme n’a pas été créé pour supporter un isolement prolongé sans en être blessé. Qu’il soit imposé par la peine, la politique, la maladie ou la peur, l’éloignement de la communion érode la personne. Ce que les prisons manifestent à l’extrême, la société moderne l’a désormais éprouvé plus largement.⁵

La Septuagésime nous aide à comprendre pourquoi. Elle nous rappelle que la lutte de l’homme n’est pas seulement sociale ou psychologique, mais théologique. Nous sommes blessés parce que la communion a été brisée — et parce que nous avons oublié à quoi elle est ordonnée.

Au cœur de cette crise se trouve une vérité oubliée : l’être humain a été créé pour la communion. Non pour l’isolement. Non pour l’auto-construction. Non pour une autonomie solitaire. Dès l’origine, Dieu déclare : Il n’est pas bon que l’homme soit seul (Gn 2,18). Il ne s’agit pas d’un sentiment, mais d’une anthropologie.⁶

Dieu Lui-même n’est pas solitaire.
Il est communion éternelle : Père, Fils et Saint-Esprit — distincts, mais parfaitement unis dans l’amour. La création ne procède pas d’un manque divin, mais d’une surabondance divine. Être créé à l’image et à la ressemblance de Dieu signifie donc être ordonné à la relation — à la communion avec Dieu et avec les autres.⁷

La solitude, dès lors, ne se guérit ni par la distraction, ni par la stimulation, ni par l’expression de soi. Elle ne peut être guérie que par la restauration de la communion. L’expérience de l’isolement durant les confinements et celle de l’incarcération en témoignent avec une douloureuse clarté. Lorsque la communion est retirée trop longtemps, l’âme commence à se fissurer.⁸

Pourtant, notre culture enseigne de plus en plus l’inverse. La dépendance est présentée comme une faiblesse. L’obligation comme une oppression. L’accomplissement comme une auto-définition radicale. Les liens familiaux sont réduits à de simples préférences. L’héritage est perçu comme un fardeau. Au nom de la liberté, beaucoup sont discrètement séparés des relations mêmes qui rendent la liberté vivable.⁹

Les confinements n’ont pas créé cette mentalité, mais ils l’ont intensifiée. L’isolement a été normalisé. Le retrait a été moralisé. La présence elle-même a été traitée comme un risque. Pour beaucoup — surtout les jeunes — cela a confirmé une méfiance déjà croissante envers la communauté incarnée. Ce qui avait commencé comme une urgence s’est transformé en habitude. Réapprendre à appartenir s’est avéré plus difficile que prévu.¹⁰

L’effondrement de la famille est l’un des signes les plus manifestes de cette rupture. La famille n’est ni un simple arrangement social ni une option de style de vie. Elle est la première école de la communion. C’est là que la personne humaine apprend d’abord le sacrifice, l’autorité, l’appartenance et l’amour ; là où l’identité est reçue avant d’être choisie, et où la liberté est formée par la responsabilité.¹¹

Aujourd’hui, la rupture familiale survient souvent même lorsque la famille demeure physiquement intacte. La fracture n’est pas toujours une absence, mais une médiation. Les écrans, les appareils et les environnements régis par des algorithmes remplacent silencieusement les repas partagés, la conversation et l’attention mutuelle. La présence demeure, mais la communion s’estompe.

Les recherches montrent de manière constante que l’usage intensif et non structuré des dispositifs connectés à Internet est corrélé à l’aliénation sociale, à la diminution de l’empathie, à l’affaiblissement des liens familiaux et à une détresse psychologique accrue.¹² Les enfants se tournent de plus en plus non vers leurs parents ou la paroisse, mais vers des figures en ligne — « influenceurs » et communautés numériques — pour y trouver appartenance et formation morale. Ils ne se contentent pas de divertir ; ils forment.¹³

Parallèlement à cette saturation numérique, l’absence parentale sous ses formes modernes — divorce, monoparentalité, surcharge professionnelle, horaires irréguliers et pauvreté du temps — érode encore davantage la communion familiale. Les causes varient. Les effets, eux, sont remarquablement constants.

Les enfants ont besoin de plus que de pourvoir à leurs besoins matériels. Ils ont besoin de présence — stable, attentive et engagée affectivement. Lorsque cette présence est fragmentée ou absente, la vulnérabilité à l’anxiété, à l’insécurité et aux influences extérieures augmente de manière significative.¹⁴ Même lorsque les besoins matériels sont satisfaits, la perte de rythmes partagés et d’une autorité relationnelle stable laisse un vide formatif difficile à combler.¹⁵

Même dans les familles intactes, les modes de travail contemporains fonctionnent de plus en plus comme une forme d’absence. Les longues heures et la connectivité permanente érodent progressivement les repas communs, la conversation et le temps intergénérationnel — des activités dont il est démontré qu’elles protègent la santé mentale et le développement social.¹⁶

L’Église domestique comme école de la communion

Si la famille a été blessée par l’isolement et la fragmentation, c’est aussi au sein de la famille que la guérison doit ordinairement commencer. Depuis longtemps, l’Église parle du foyer chrétien comme de l’Église domestique — non comme d’une métaphore, mais comme d’une réalité vécue. La famille est le premier lieu où l’Évangile est pratiqué avant d’être expliqué, et où la communion s’apprend autant par l’habitude que par l’enseignement.

À une époque marquée par la déconnexion, la vie ordinaire d’une famille catholique devient discrètement contre-culturelle. Elle ne polémique pas contre l’isolement ; elle vit simplement autrement.

Ce témoignage est profondément ordinaire. Il se construit par des pratiques partagées qui, avec le temps, forment l’âme : repas communs, prière commune, lecture et étude partagées, conversation, travail, repos et loisirs. Ce ne sont pas des embellissements facultatifs. Ce sont les moyens ordinaires par lesquels les êtres humains apprennent à appartenir.

Le repas familial partagé est l’un des actes les plus puissants de résistance à la fragmentation. Réunis autour d’une table, sans distraction, les membres de la famille apprennent la patience, l’attention, la gratitude et la maîtrise de soi. La conversation circule entre les générations. Les recherches associent de manière constante les repas familiaux réguliers à une meilleure santé mentale, à une diminution des comportements à risque, à de meilleurs résultats scolaires et à une plus grande résilience émotionnelle chez les enfants et les adolescents.¹⁷

La prière familiale ancre le foyer dans son véritable centre. Qu’il s’agisse du Rosaire, de l’Écriture Sainte, de formes simples de la Liturgie des Heures ou de la prière du soir, les familles qui prient ensemble apprennent que la vie est reçue, non fabriquée. La pratique religieuse partagée au sein du foyer est associée à une plus grande stabilité psychologique, à une formation morale plus solide et à une meilleure résilience chez les enfants et les jeunes.¹⁸

La lecture et l’étude partagées approfondissent encore cette communion. Lorsque les familles lisent ensemble — l’Écriture, l’histoire, la vie des saints ou une littérature exigeante — elles entrent dans un récit commun plus vaste que leur propre expérience. La lecture partagée est corrélée à un meilleur développement du langage, à une empathie accrue, à une meilleure capacité d’attention et à des résultats éducatifs à long terme, tout en renforçant les liens relationnels.¹⁹

Le temps passé ensemble sans programme — jeu, travail ou simple présence — est tout aussi essentiel. Il ne peut être remplacé par des appareils ou des activités programmées. C’est là que les enfants apprennent l’humour, le pardon, la persévérance et l’art de vivre avec d’autres qui ne sont pas façonnés selon leurs préférences.²⁰

Rien de tout cela n’exige la perfection. La vie familiale catholique n’est pas une image idéalisée sans tension ni fatigue. Elle est une école de la charité précisément parce qu’elle implique fragilité et persévérance. La fidélité, et non l’irréprochabilité, est ce qui porte du fruit.

Lorsqu’elle est vécue avec constance, l’Église domestique porte des fruits visibles au-delà du foyer. Les enfants formés dans des familles stables et priantes manifestent généralement une plus grande sécurité affective et une identité plus solide. Les invités perçoivent l’atmosphère. Les amis sont attirés par la paix qui naît non du confort, mais de l’ordre. Ainsi, les familles évangélisent sans slogans.

La Septuagésime nous prépare à retrouver cette vision. À l’approche du Carême, l’Église invite les familles non d’abord à des pénitences extraordinaires, mais à une fidélité renouvelée dans la vie ordinaire. La restauration de la communion commence au foyer. De foyers ordonnés, les communautés blessées sont guéries.

L’Église ne répond pas à cette crise par la condamnation, mais par la vérité et la miséricorde. Elle sait que beaucoup portent des blessures qu’ils n’ont pas choisies : isolement, perte, peur, scolarité interrompue, incarcération, rythmes de vie brisés et relations fracturées. La communion ne peut être imposée, ni reconstruite du jour au lendemain. Mais elle peut être guérie — patiemment et concrètement — lorsque la grâce est accueillie et que les relations sont restaurées.²¹

Le Christ ne sauve pas des individus isolés. Il appelle. Il rassemble. Il forme un Corps. Il établit une maison de foi où personne n’est destiné à demeurer seul. L’Église elle-même n’est pas un ajout à la foi ; elle est le sacrement de la communion, où la vie divine est partagée et où les liens humains sont restaurés.²²

La communion n’est pas un idéal sentimental ; elle est la motivation et la fin de l’Évangile. Le Christ ne meurt pas seulement pour pardonner les péchés, mais pour réconcilier — avec Dieu et les uns avec les autres. Le Carême nous formera à cette réconciliation. La Septuagésime nous prépare à reconnaître notre besoin de celle-ci.

Alors que nous nous tenons au seuil de ce temps saint, l’Église nous invite à poser des questions difficiles mais nécessaires :
Où la communion a-t-elle été perdue dans nos vies ?
Où avons-nous substitué l’isolement à la liberté, la distraction à la présence, l’autonomie à l’amour ?

Puissions-nous entrer dans le Carême avec honnêteté, humilité et courage — prêts à travailler de nouveau dans la vigne, non comme des ouvriers isolés, mais comme un peuple rétabli dans la communion du Christ.



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“Per Tempus Concussionis et Ventilationis”: a Pastoral Epistle for the New Year 2026

Coat of arms featuring a shield with a fleur-de-lis and elements of ecclesiastical symbolism, inscribed with 'DEUS CARITAS EST'.

“Per Tempus Concussionis et Ventilationis”
a New Year Pastoral Epistle

To the clergy, religious, and faithful of the Old Roman Apostolate, and to all those who seek to preserve the Catholic faith in its integrity and fullness:
grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

Carissimi

As we cross the threshold into the year of Our Lord 2026, I write to you not merely to observe the calendar’s turning, but to acknowledge what many of you already feel in your bones: that we are living through a season of shaking and sifting. Laws have been passed which strike at the very heart of human dignity; children are sacrificed to ideology in clinics and classrooms; the name of Christ is pushed to the margins of public life while false religions and false unities are courted and indulged. Within the Church, liturgy is bent to personalities, doctrine is “managed” as if it were policy, and ecumenical ceremonies are staged without any serious call to conversion.⁷

Faced with this, the temptation is either despair or distraction. But for Christians, neither is permitted. Our Lord did not promise us comfort; He promised us a Cross and His own abiding presence: “In the world you shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”¹

This epistle is therefore not a lament but a call to action. I want to speak plainly about what you, as ordinary faithful, can do in 2026 to stem, and by God’s grace begin to reverse, the tide that seems so strong against us. The work begins where it always has: at the altar, in the confessional, in the home, in the mind, in the public square, and in the daily formation we receive.

I. Christ First: Rebuilding from the Altar Outward

Every renewal in the history of the Church has started, not with strategies, but with worship. When Israel forgot the law, the prophets rebuilt the altar. When Christ came, He established, not a programme, but a Sacrifice. When the world grows darker, the first duty of the faithful is to ensure that somewhere, in their time and place, God is truly adored in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.²

For us, this means redoubling our love and reverence for the sacred liturgy in its traditional form. Where the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is offered worthily and devoutly, according to the rites handed down, there the Kingship of Christ is already visibly proclaimed, whatever the politicians may legislate and whatever confusion may reign in chancelleries and dicasteries.⁸

In practical terms, I ask you in this new year:

Make Sunday Mass non-negotiable, even at real cost. Arrange your work, your travel, your family gatherings around the altar, not the altar around your convenience. Where you are able, sanctify at least one weekday each week by assisting at Mass. The world is not sustained by our activism but by the Blood of Christ made present on our altars. Examine your manner of assisting at Mass. Come early enough to recollect; dress as if you really believed you were going to Calvary; remain in thanksgiving after Mass rather than rushing away as soon as the last word is said. Recover Eucharistic adoration in our chapels wherever it is possible. Half an hour of silent adoration each week will do more to steady your soul and re-order your priorities than hours of anxious news-consumption.

If laws are now passed that permit abortion to birth, if children are experimented on in the name of “gender affirmation,” if public blasphemies are staged in parliaments and city squares, it is above all because Christ is not recognised as King.⁸ The most radical thing you can do in 2026 is to adore Him with faith and reverence in the Blessed Sacrament and to place the Mass at the centre of your week and your decisions.

II. Return to the Fountain: Confession, Conversion, and the Interior Life

We cannot hope to convert our culture if we ourselves will not be converted. The crisis “out there” is sustained, in part, by tepidity within the Church. The line between good and evil runs through every human heart, including mine and yours.

Therefore:

Seek regular confession. Do not content yourself with an annual visit to the confessional, as if you were renewing a licence. Make a firm decision now: monthly, or even fortnightly, you will kneel before Christ’s representative and accuse yourself humbly of your sins.³ Do this even if you must travel or wait. The sacrament of Penance is not a decorative extra; it is the instrument by which God renews His image in us and equips us with grace for the battles of our time.

Establish a rule of daily prayer. Many Catholics attempt to fight great cultural battles with almost no interior life. Decide on a daily minimum and hold to it firmly: morning offering, consciously uniting the day to God; at least fifteen minutes of mental prayer or meditative reading of Scripture; the daily Rosary, even if you must divide the decades through the day; nightly examination of conscience, however brief, with an act of contrition.

Without this, you will find your reactions shaped more by fear, anger, and the media cycle than by the Holy Ghost. With it, you will begin to discern where God is calling you to act and where He is calling you to be silent, to suffer, or to wait.

III. The Domestic Church: Guarding Children and Re-Christianising the Home

The enemies of Christ understand something many Catholics have forgotten: whoever forms the children, owns the future. It is no accident that so much pressure is placed on schools, media, and medicine to normalise grave sin, confuse identities, and sexualise the young. If we do not actively guard and form our children, others will gladly do it for us.⁴

For parents and grandparents, I therefore speak with urgency.

First, reclaim authority in the home. You are not the chaplains of the State; you are the first pastors of the souls entrusted to you. No government, school, or clinician has a greater right over a child than his or her parents acting in accordance with God’s law.⁴ If policies or programmes directly contradict the moral law or the teaching of the Church, you have not only the right but the duty to say “no.”

Second, reform the home around the family altar. Enthrone an image of the Sacred Heart; keep a crucifix prominently displayed; mark the feasts and fasts of the Church with visible signs — blessed candles, an Advent wreath, a simple family altar. Let the liturgical year be kept not only in the chapel but in the kitchen and living room. Children whose imaginations are formed by crucifixes, icons, and the Rosary will be less captivated by the glowing idols of the screen.

Third, be intentional about schooling and catechesis. If your children are in state schools, you must recognise that you are sending them into mission territory. Know what they are being taught about sex, gender, and religion. Read the policies. Ask questions. Withdraw them from sessions that contradict your faith and morals. If you can homeschool, or support genuinely Catholic schools that refuse ideological capture, seriously consider this sacrifice.⁵

Do not delegate catechesis. Teach your children the basics of the faith from solid sources — the Catechism of the Council of Trent, the Baltimore Catechism, the traditional prayers and devotions of the Church. Family catechism for half an hour each week will do more for their souls than a lifetime of vague “religious education.”⁵

Finally, guard their innocence in the digital sphere. Unfiltered smartphones and unguided internet access are among the most efficient tools for undoing everything you try to teach. Set limits. Use filters. Do not be afraid to be thought “old-fashioned.” Your duty is not to make your children fashionable but to help them reach Heaven.

IV. Formation of the Mind: Thinking with the Church in an Age of Confusion

Much of the present crisis is intellectual. Laws are passed, policies implemented, and ecumenical gestures staged on the basis of confused or deliberately distorted ideas about the human person, the Church, and God. Catholics who cannot think with the Church will be swept along, however orthodox their sentiments.

For this reason, I urge you in 2026 to make serious study of the faith part of your Christian life. This does not mean amassing internet arguments, but drinking from sound wells.

Choose one reliable catechism and read it through. The Catechism of Trent or the Baltimore Catechism are excellent foundations. Take a small section each day or each week, read it slowly, and discuss it in the family or parish group.⁵

Read Scripture with the mind of the Church. The Bible is not a weapon to be wielded for private interpretation; it is the book of the Church, to be read within Tradition. Consider choosing one Gospel and one Epistle this year and reading them meditatively, perhaps with a commentary from a trustworthy Father or Doctor, such as St Augustine, St John Chrysostom, or St Thomas Aquinas.

Be intentional in your media and news consumption. You do not need to know every outrage in real time. Choose a small number of sources that you know will not lie to you, and limit your intake. For the rest, do not be afraid to turn things off. A mind perpetually inflamed by outrage will not perceive where God is asking it to act.

On questions of sex, gender, and the body, acquaint yourself with the Church’s perennial teaching on creation, marriage, and the natural law. Understand why hormonal interventions on healthy children are wrong; why “assisted dying” is in truth assisted killing; why pornography is not merely a private vice but a grave injustice that deforms the soul and poisons society.⁶ Catholics who can explain these things calmly and clearly will be a rare and necessary leaven.¹⁴

V. Christian Action in the Public Square: Witness Without Illusion

Not every Catholic is called to stand in Parliament or to appear in the media. But every Catholic, by baptism and confirmation, is called to confess Christ before men in whatever station Providence has placed him.⁶

In 2026, this will demand both courage and prudence.

First, resolve never to cooperate in a lie. There will be increasing pressure in workplaces and institutions to affirm falsehoods about marriage, sex, and identity; to use words that deny reality; to treat abortion as healthcare and euthanasia as mercy. While there may be room for discretion and silence in some circumstances, there is never room for formal cooperation in error. Do not place your signature, your vote, or your voice behind statements that contradict the law of God. If policy demands that you affirm what you know to be false, seek advice and, if necessary, be ready to accept professional or financial loss rather than betray the truth.⁶

Second, support those on the front lines. Not everyone can bring legal challenges, stand for office, or lead campaigns. But many can write letters, sign petitions, attend peaceful vigils, support crisis-pregnancy centres, contribute to legal defence funds, or simply stand beside those who are being singled out for punishment because they have refused to compromise. In an age of official intimidation, honest men and women must know that they are not alone.

Third, exercise your duties as citizens. Vote when you can do so in good conscience. Make your representatives aware that their positions on life, family, and freedom are not marginal issues but decisive ones. Write respectfully but clearly. Where public consultations are opened on matters such as hate-speech legislation, “conversion therapy,” or restrictions on homeschooling, take the time to respond.

At the same time, do not allow politics to become your functional religion. The Kingdom of Christ is not tied to any party programme. When earthly parties or movements align more closely with the moral law, they may deserve your support; when they do not, withdraw it. Keep your ultimate loyalty for Christ and His Church.⁶ There is a fine line between rightful Christian engagement and idolatry of the political process; cross it, and you will find your spiritual life withers even as your activism increases.

VI. Building Small Strongholds: Communities of Faith, Charity, and Culture

We are too scattered. One of the devil’s most effective strategies has been to isolate faithful Catholics: each family thinking itself alone in its convictions, each priest imagining himself the last of his kind. This is not only emotionally draining; it is also strategically disastrous. Lone Christians are easier to intimidate than communities.

In 2026 I ask every chapel, mission, and group within the Old Roman Apostolate to take concrete steps toward forming small, sturdy communities of faith and friendship.

After Sunday Mass, do not rush away. Make a point of greeting those you do not yet know. Learn names. See who is standing alone. Over time, encourage the formation of guild-type groups: men’s confraternities, women’s sodalities, youth circles, study groups, practical mutual-aid networks.

Consider how your chapel can become a centre not only of worship but of Christian culture: catechism classes, talks, book groups, shared meals on feast days, practical workshops on living the liturgical year at home. The more the faithful know and love one another, the harder it will be for hostile structures to drive them into silence or compromise.⁹

Do not neglect works of mercy. The credibility of our witness depends in part on whether we actually care for the poor, the lonely, the sick, the unborn, the women in crisis pregnancies, the victims of abuse and neglect. Ask what your community can realistically do: perhaps supporting a local pro-life initiative, visiting the housebound, assisting a family in need of schooling help, or helping refugees who are genuinely fleeing persecution rather than exploiting systems. Start small, but start somewhere.⁹

VII. Standing Firm in the Church: Fidelity Without Servility

Some of you carry heavy burdens over the situation in the wider Church: the marginalisation of the traditional Mass, the confusion spread by ambiguous documents, the wounds of the abuse crisis, the sight of bishops hugging those who promote or live in public contradiction to the moral law while ignoring or disparaging those attached to Tradition. You ask: how can we remain obedient sons and daughters without endorsing manifest disorder?

The answer is the same as it has always been in times of crisis: cling to what the Church has always taught; love and receive the sacraments wherever they are validly and worthily celebrated; respect the office of the Pope and the bishops without imagining that every prudential decision or personal opinion they voice binds your conscience.

We in the Old Roman Apostolate have taken a particular path within this tension: neither abandoning the Roman See nor colluding in its present confusions; neither pretending that nothing is wrong nor declaring the See vacant; neither inventing a new Church nor accepting a new religion.¹¹ This position is not comfortable, but it is, I am convinced, the one that best preserves both the faith and the hope of eventual restoration.

You can assist this work by praying daily for the Pope, for the bishops, and for us who labour in this small portion of the Lord’s vineyard. Pray especially for holy priests and vocations. Encourage young men of faith and character to discern the priesthood; do not discourage them with your cynicism. Whatever else changes, the Church will always need altars, priests, and souls hungry for the sacraments.

VIII. Nuntiatoria and Old Roman TV: Daily Formation, News, and Worship

In this struggle for truth, you are not without companions and tools. One of the great dangers of our time is confusion: Catholics drinking from poisoned wells, relying on media that misrepresent the Church, and being formed more by partisan slogans than by the mind of Christ. It is therefore vital that you make use of sound, faithful resources.

For this reason, I commend to you in a particular way our own apostolate of word and image: Nuntiatoria and Old Roman TV.

Nuntiatoria exists to do three things for you.¹²

First, catechesis. Through essays, doctrinal reflections, and explanations of the liturgical year, Nuntiatoria aims to help you think with the perennial Magisterium of the Church, drawing especially on the Fathers, the traditional catechisms, and the pre-conciliar papal encyclicals. Make a habit of reading one substantial piece each week. Use it in family discussion, parish groups, or personal study. Let it sharpen your understanding and clarify your speech.

Second, informed news and analysis. We do not pretend to be encyclopaedic, but we strive to be honest: presenting key developments in Church and world through a Catholic lens neither captured by the secular left nor beholden to a merely political “right.” Many of you cannot spare hours to sift through partisan outlets. Let Nuntiatoria help you see what truly matters and why, so that you are neither naïve nor consumed by rage.

Third, orientation in the cultural battle. Our editorials on abortion, assisted dying, grooming gangs, Islamism, false ecumenism, academic freedom, policing, attacks on Christians, and the crisis in Rome are not meant merely to alarm you, but to arm you: with facts, principles, and language to speak the truth in your own circles.

Alongside Nuntiatoria, Old Roman TV — our daily online apostolate of worship and devotions — is there to sustain you when distance, illness, or circumstances prevent physical attendance at Mass or public devotions.¹³

Let me be clear: the livestreamed Mass does not fulfil your Sunday obligation when attendance is possible, and it can never replace the grace of sacramental Communion. But for the sick, the housebound, those too far from an Old Roman chapel, or those impeded on weekdays, the daily broadcast of the Holy Sacrifice, the Rosary, and other devotions can be a real consolation and a strong aid to prayer. Unite yourselves spiritually to the altar; make acts of spiritual communion; let the prayers and readings penetrate your heart.

I therefore encourage you: bookmark Nuntiatoria and consult it regularly for catechetical and news content; subscribe to our channels and share material judiciously with those who may benefit; when you cannot attend physically, join the streamed Mass or devotions with recollection, avoiding the temptation to treat holy things as background noise.

If we are to rebuild Christian civilisation from the altar outward, we must also rebuild a Catholic mind and imagination. Nuntiatoria and Old Roman TV are offered to you precisely for that purpose: to help you pray, to help you understand, and to help you stand.

IX. Hope That Does Not Lie: Looking to 2026 and Beyond

It would be easy, surveying the past year, to become paralysed. Abortion to birth, assisted dying, experimental treatments on children, open blasphemy, institutional cowardice before Islamism, false ecumenism that trades dogma for vague unity, the slow criminalisation of Christian speech — all these things are real, and we must not pretend otherwise.¹⁴

Yet despair is a sin because it denies either God’s power or His goodness.¹⁰ Christ remains the same yesterday, today, and forever. Grace is not weaker in the twenty-first century than it was in the first. The Holy Ghost has not retired. Divine Providence has chosen you to live in this time, with these particular challenges, because there are acts of faith, hope, and love that only you can perform: in your family, your workplace, your parish, your nation.

Our task is not to guarantee visible success. Our task is to be found faithful. If we adore Christ as King in the liturgy, if we confess our sins and strive for holiness, if we raise children who know that they are made male or female in the image of God and called to chastity and charity, if we refuse to lie on command, if we build small strongholds of Christian life, if we suffer rather than betray the truth — then we have already begun to reverse the tide, whether or not we live to see the full fruits.

Dearly beloved, I ask you this year to stop saying “someone ought to” and to begin asking, “Lord, what do You want me to do?” Then do that thing with all your heart, all your mind, all your strength, and all your love. Heaven does not measure the size of our sphere, but the depth of our fidelity within it.

May the Blessed Virgin Mary, who kept the faith beneath the Cross when all seemed lost, obtain for you the grace of persevering courage. May St Joseph guard your homes. May the martyrs and confessors of every age strengthen you to choose the hard right over the easy wrong. And may Christ, our King and High Priest, bless you, your families, and our whole Apostolate in this new year, and bring us at last to that Kingdom where no error can mislead, no sin can wound, and no tear remains un-wiped.

Given at the beginning of the year of Our Lord 2026,
in the Octave of the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ,

Haec est via.

I.X.

Signature of Jerome Seleisi, written in an elegant script.

Brichtelmestunensis
S. Silvestri Papæ et Confessoris A.D. MMXXV

Oremus

Deus, qui in commotione temporum fideles tuos non deseris: præsta, quæsumus, ut in huius sæculi concussionibus et ventilationibus
in veritate tuæ doctrinæ radicati et in caritate Christi firmati, in confessione sancti Nominis tui usque ad finem perseveremus. Per Dominum nostrum Iesum Christum Filium tuum, qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitate Spiritus Sancti Deus, per omnia sæcula sæculorum. Amen.

O God, who in times of turmoil dost not forsake Thy faithful: grant, we beseech Thee, that amid the shakings and siftings of this age, being rooted in the truth of Thy doctrine and strengthened in the charity of Christ, we may persevere unto the end in the confession of Thy holy Name. Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.


  1. Jn 16:33.
  2. Council of Trent, Session XXII, Doctrina de sanctissimo Missæ sacrificio, ch. 1–2.
  3. Council of Trent, Session XIV, Doctrina de sacramento Pœnitentiæ, ch. 1–2.
  4. Pope John Paul II, Familiaris Consortio, 22, 36–40, on the family as “domestic Church” and parents as first educators.
  5. Catechismus ex decreto Concilii Tridentini (Roman Catechism), Part II, Baptism; The Baltimore Catechism, esp. Q. 585–606 on parents’ duties.
  6. Pope John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor, 80; 95–99, on intrinsically evil acts and the duty not to cooperate in moral error.
  7. Pope Pius XI, Mortalium Animos, on false irenicism and unity without conversion.
  8. Pope Pius XI, Quas Primas, esp. 11–19, on the social Kingship of Christ and the consequences of excluding Him from public life.
  9. Acts 2:42–47; Heb 10:24–25, on the early Christian community, common life, and persevering assembly.
  10. St Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiæ II–II, q.20, a.1–4; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2091–2092, on despair as a sin against hope.
  11. Old Roman Apostolate, foundational declarations and statements on ecclesial position and mission (cf. selsey.org; brightonoratory.org).
  12. Nuntiatoria: Old Roman online periodical for doctrine, culture, and commentary (nuntiatoria.org).
  13. Old Roman TV: daily online apostolate of the Old Roman Apostolate, broadcasting Mass and devotions since 2008 across digital platforms.
  14. Independent Review of Gender Identity Services for Children and Young People (Cass Review), Final Report; relevant UK parliamentary debates on abortion decriminalisation and assisted dying (2025).


Please note that all material on this website is the Intellectual Property (IP) of His Grace, the Titular Archbishop of Selsey and protected by Copyright and Intellectual Property laws of the United Kingdom, United States and International law. Reproduction and distribution without written authorisation of the owner is prohibited.

(©)The Titular Archbishop of Selsey 2012-2025. All Rights Reserved.


“O sacerdos! Tu quis es?” A pastoral epistle to the clergy for the New Year 2026

Coat of arms featuring a heraldic design with a cross, fleur-de-lis, and decorative elements. Below the coat of arms, the Latin phrase 'DEUS CARITAS EST' is inscribed.

Carissimi Filii

Beloved Sons in Christ,

As we stand at the threshold of a new year of grace, I write to you not as an administrator issuing directives, nor as a supervisor evaluating outcomes, but as a father speaking to his sons in the priesthood—men marked by an indelible character, conformed sacramentally to Christ the Eternal High Priest, and entrusted with the care of souls in an age that scarcely remembers what a priest is meant to be.

The words of the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen, which I place before you at the opening of this year, cut through all illusion and sentimentality:

O sacerdos! Tu quis es?
Non es a te, quia de nihilo.
Non es ad te, quia es mediator ad Deum.
Non es tibi, quia soli Deo vivere debes.
Non es tui, quia es omnium servus.
Non es tu, quia alter Christus es.
Quid ergo es? Nihil et omnia.¹

“O priest! What are you?
You do not come from yourself, for you come from nothing.
You do not belong to yourself, for you are ordered to God.
You do not live for yourself, for you must live for God alone.
You are not your own, for you are the servant of all.
You are not yourself, for you are another Christ.
What then are you? Nothing—and everything.”

This is not poetry for ornament’s sake. It is metaphysical truth. It expresses the very ontology of the priesthood. The priest does not possess his vocation as one might possess a skill or office; he is possessed by it. Holy Orders imprints a character that cannot be erased, a permanent configuration to Christ the High Priest, whether the world recognises it or not.² As I wrote to you last July, “the key to true discipleship and authentic spiritual progress lies not in being affirmed, promoted, or seen, but in the complete surrender of the possessive self.”³

In an age intoxicated with self-expression, self-definition, and self-sovereignty, the priest stands as a living contradiction. The modern world exhorts man to “be himself,” to assert his identity, to claim autonomy as a right. The priest, however, is commanded to do the opposite: to surrender selfhood, to disappear into Christ, to become transparent to Another.⁴

You were not ordained to affirm yourself, but to be consumed. You were not ordained to be affirmed by the age, but to be faithful to the Gospel. You were not ordained to speak your own word, but to hand on what you yourself received.⁵

This is why the priesthood has always been a sign of contradiction. It stands athwart the spirit of every age—not by political agitation, but by ontological witness. The priest is not his own property. He belongs to Christ, and therefore he belongs to the Church, and therefore he belongs to souls. And many of you—particularly the younger clergy—know what it is to “be treated as if you are irrelevant relics or even rebellious interlopers,” to be “ignored by chancelleries, snubbed by peers, questioned by family, and denied even the companionship of many once called brethren.”

Such a vocation will never be comfortable.

You will be misunderstood. You will be ignored. At times you will be opposed—sometimes even by those within the household of faith. You may labour in obscurity, minister in small flocks, or carry burdens unseen and unacknowledged. Yet heaven measures differently than the world. A single faithful Mass offered in obscurity outweighs a thousand eloquent speeches. A single absolution pronounced in faith repairs more than a thousand editorials ever could. “The hiddenness you endure is not failure—it is purification.”

Remember: the priesthood does not derive its dignity from visibility, numbers, or influence, but from sacrifice. The altar—not the platform—is its centre. The confessional—not the microphone—is its true tribunal. The tabernacle—not the crowd—is its true audience.⁸

You are not called to save the Church by strategy or reform. You are called to be holy. Holiness is the Church’s true reform. Every authentic renewal in the history of the Church has begun not with structures, but with saints.⁹

Therefore, I urge you, my sons: guard your interior life with vigilance. Be faithful to the daily offering of the Holy Sacrifice. Guard the silence of prayer. Love the sacred liturgy, not as a performance but as the action of Christ Himself. Teach sound doctrine without compromise, and do so with charity. Flee from the temptation to accommodate error for the sake of peace. Truth is never served by dilution.¹⁰

Above all, remain priests—priests of the altar, priests of the confessional, priests of the Cross. “The priest is not his own. He belongs to Christ. He is not here to be served, but to serve. Not to shine, but to burn.”¹¹

You are nothing.
And in Christ, you are everything.

With paternal affection and the assurance of my prayers,

Oremus pro invicem.

I.X.

A formal signature of Jerome Seleisi, featuring an ornate script.

Brichtelmestunensis
S. Silvestri Papæ et Confessoris MMXXV A.D.


Footnotes

  1. Fulton J. Sheen, The Priest Is Not His Own (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1963), adapted from his meditation on the ontological identity of the priest. The Latin formulation is commonly attributed to Sheen’s paraphrase of traditional spiritual theology.
  2. Council of Trent, Session XXIII, Doctrine on the Sacrament of Order, cap. 4: “In the sacrament of Order a character is impressed which can neither be effaced nor taken away.”
  3. Jerome of Selsey, “Humiliati et Absconditi: A Pastoral Epistle to the Clergy” (17 July 2025).
  4. Cf. Galatians 2:20; John 12:24–26.
  5. 1 Corinthians 11:23; 1 Corinthians 4:1–2.
  6. Jerome of Selsey, ibid.
  7. Ibid.
  8. St. John Chrysostom, De Sacerdotio, Book III.
  9. Pope Pius XI, Ad Catholici Sacerdotii (1935), on the supernatural dignity of the priesthood.
  10. Council of Trent, Session XXII, Doctrine on the Sacrifice of the Mass.
  11. Fulton J. Sheen, The Priest Is Not His Own, Chapter 1.

    TAGALOG

    Minamahal kong mga anak kay Kristo,

    Habang tayo ay nakatayo sa bungad ng panibagong taon ng biyaya, sumusulat ako sa inyo hindi bilang isang tagapangasiwa na nagbibigay ng mga kautusan, ni bilang isang superbisor na sumusuri ng mga resulta, kundi bilang isang ama na nakikipag-usap sa kanyang mga anak sa pananampalataya at pagkasaserdote—mga lalaking may tandang hindi na mabubura, na sakramentong hinubog ayon kay Kristo na Walang Hanggang Kataas-taasang Saserdote, at pinagkatiwalaan ng mga kaluluwa sa panahong halos limot na kung ano ba talaga ang pari.

    Ang mga salita ng Kagalang-galang na si Fulton J. Sheen, na inilalagak ko sa inyong harapan sa pagsisimula ng taong ito, ay tumatagos sa lahat ng ilusyon at sentimentalismo:

    O sacerdos! Tu quis es?
    Non es a te, quia de nihilo.
    Non es ad te, quia es mediator ad Deum.
    Non es tibi, quia soli Deo vivere debes.
    Non es tui, quia es omnium servus.
    Non es tu, quia alter Christus es.
    Quid ergo es? Nihil et omnia.¹

    “O pari! Sino ka?
    Hindi ka nagmula sa iyong sarili, sapagkat ikaw ay mula sa wala.
    Hindi ka para sa iyong sarili, sapagkat ikaw ay itinakdang tunguhin ang Diyos.
    Hindi ka nabubuhay para sa iyong sarili, sapagkat dapat kang mamuhay para sa Diyos lamang.
    Hindi ikaw ang may-ari ng iyong sarili, sapagkat ikaw ay lingkod ng lahat.
    Hindi ka ikaw, sapagkat ikaw ay isa pang Kristo.
    Ano ka nga ba? Wala—at lahat.”

    Hindi ito panulaan para lang sa palamuti. Ito ay isang pilosopikal at teolohikal na katotohanan. Ipinahahayag nito ang mismong ontolohiya ng pagkasaserdote. Ang pari ay hindi basta mayroong bokasyon gaya ng isang kasanayan o tungkulin; siya ay pagmamay-ari nito. Ang Banal na Orden ay nag-uukit ng isang tandang hindi na nabubura, isang permanenteng pagkakahubog kay Kristo bilang Kataas-taasang Saserdote, kahit hindi ito kilalanin ng mundo.² Gaya ng isinulat ko noong Hulyo, “ang susi ng tunay na pagsunod at tunay na paglago sa espiritu ay hindi ang makilala, maitaas, o makita, kundi ang ganap na pagsuko ng makasariling sarili.”³

    Sa isang panahon na lasing sa pagpapahayag ng sarili, sa pagbibigay-kahulugan sa sarili, at sa sariling pamumuno, ang pari ay isang buhay na kontradiksiyon. Tinuturuan ng modernong mundo ang tao na “maging siya mismo,” na igiit ang kanyang pagkakakilanlan, at angkinin ang awtonomiya bilang karapatan. Ngunit ang pari ay inuutusang gawin ang kabaligtaran: isuko ang sarili, maglaho kay Kristo, maging malinaw na salamin ng Isa pa.⁴

    Hindi kayo naordinahan upang pagtibayin ang inyong sarili, kundi upang magpakasayang buo. Hindi kayo naordinahan upang aprubahan ng daigdig, kundi upang maging tapat sa Ebanghelyo. Hindi kayo naordinahan upang magsalita ng sariling salita, kundi upang ipasa ang inyong natanggap.⁵

    Ito ang dahilan kung bakit ang pagkasaserdote ay laging naging isang tanda ng kontradiksiyon. Tumitindig ito laban sa espiritu ng bawat panahon—hindi sa pamamagitan ng pulitikal na pagkilos, kundi ng ontolohikal na saksi. Ang pari ay hindi sarili niyang ari-arian. Siya ay kay Kristo, at samakatuwid ay sa Simbahan, at samakatuwid ay para sa mga kaluluwa. At marami sa inyo—lalo na kayong mas nakababatang klero—ang nakararanas kung paano “itrato na tila kayo’y mga hindi mahalagang relikya o mapaghimagsik na banyaga,” na “hindi pinapansin ng mga opisina ng simbahan, kinukutya ng mga kapwa lingkod, kinikwestiyon ng sariling pamilya, at pinagtatabuyan ng dati’y mga kapatid sa pananampalataya.”⁶

    Hindi kailanman magiging maginhawa ang bokasyong ito.

    Kayo’y hindi maiintindihan. Kayo’y hindi papansinin. Minsan ay lalabanan pa kayo—maging ng mga nasa loob ng sambahayan ng pananampalataya. Maaaring kayo’y maglingkod sa kabila ng kawalang-kilala, magpastol ng maliliit na kawan, o magpasan ng mga pasaning di-nakikita at di-kilala. Subalit iba ang pamantayan ng langit kaysa mundo. Ang isang matapat na Misa na inaalay sa lihim ay higit na mahalaga kaysa sanlibong talumpati. Ang isang absolusyon na binigkas sa pananampalataya ay higit na nakapagpapagaling kaysa sanlibong artikulo. “Ang pagiging nakatago na inyong dinaranas ay hindi kabiguan—ito’y paglilinis.”⁷

    Alalahanin: ang dangal ng pagkasaserdote ay hindi nagmumula sa kasikatan, bilang, o impluwensiya, kundi sa sakripisyo. Ang altar—hindi ang entablado—ang sentro nito. Ang kumpisalan—hindi ang mikropono—ang tunay na tribunal. Ang tabernakulo—hindi ang madla—ang tunay na madla.⁸

    Hindi kayo tinawag upang iligtas ang Simbahan sa pamamagitan ng estratehiya o reporma. Kayo ay tinawag upang maging banal. Ang kabanalan ang tunay na reporma ng Simbahan. Bawat tunay na pagbabagong panloob sa kasaysayan ng Simbahan ay nagsimula hindi sa mga estruktura kundi sa mga santo.⁹

    Kaya’t hinihimok ko kayo, aking mga anak: bantayan ninyong mabuti ang inyong panloob na buhay. Maging tapat sa araw-araw na pag-aalay ng Banal na Sakripisyo. Bantayan ang katahimikan ng panalangin. Ibigin ang sagradong liturhiya, hindi bilang pagtatanghal kundi bilang kilos ni Kristo Mismo. Ituro ang tunay na doktrina nang walang kompromiso, at gawin ito nang may pag-ibig. Tumakas sa tukso ng pakikisama sa kamalian alang-alang sa katahimikan. Hindi kailanman napaglilingkuran ang katotohanan sa pamamagitan ng pagpapalabnaw nito.¹⁰

    Higit sa lahat, manatili kayong mga pari—mga pari ng altar, mga pari ng kumpisalan, mga pari ng Krus. “Ang pari ay hindi kanya. Siya ay kay Kristo. Siya ay narito hindi upang paglingkuran kundi upang maglingkod. Hindi upang magningning kundi upang magliyab.”¹¹

    Kayo ay wala.
    At kay Kristo, kayo ay lahat.

    Sa pagmamahal ng isang ama at sa katiyakan ng aking panalangin,


    ESPANOL

    Amados hijos en Cristo:

    Al encontrarnos al umbral de un nuevo año de gracia, os escribo no como un administrador que dicta directrices, ni como un supervisor que evalúa resultados, sino como un padre que habla a sus hijos en el sacerdocio—hombres marcados por un carácter indeleble, configurados sacramentalmente con Cristo, el Sumo Sacerdote Eterno, y encargados del cuidado de las almas en una época que apenas recuerda lo que verdaderamente debe ser un sacerdote.

    Las palabras del Venerable Fulton J. Sheen, que os presento al inicio de este año, cortan toda ilusión y sentimentalismo:

    O sacerdos! Tu quis es?
    Non es a te, quia de nihilo.
    Non es ad te, quia es mediator ad Deum.
    Non es tibi, quia soli Deo vivere debes.
    Non es tui, quia es omnium servus.
    Non es tu, quia alter Christus es.
    **Quid ergo es? Nihil et omnia.**¹

    “¡Oh sacerdote! ¿Quién eres?
    No vienes de ti mismo, porque vienes de la nada.
    No llevas a ti mismo, porque eres mediador hacia Dios.
    No vives para ti, porque debes vivir solo para Dios.
    No eres tuyo, porque eres servidor de todos.
    No eres tú mismo, porque eres otro Cristo.
    ¿Entonces qué eres? Nada… y todo.”

    Esto no es poesía ornamental. Es verdad metafísica. Expresa la ontología misma del sacerdocio. El sacerdote no posee su vocación como quien tiene una habilidad o un cargo; él es poseído por ella. El Orden Sagrado imprime un carácter que no puede borrarse, una configuración permanente con Cristo Sumo Sacerdote, aunque el mundo no lo reconozca.² Como escribí el pasado julio, “la clave del verdadero discipulado y del progreso espiritual auténtico no está en ser afirmado, promovido o visto, sino en la entrega total del yo posesivo.”³

    En una era embriagada por la autoexpresión, la autodefinición y la autoafirmación, el sacerdote es una contradicción viviente. El mundo moderno exhorta al hombre a “ser él mismo”, a afirmar su identidad, a reclamar la autonomía como un derecho. El sacerdote, en cambio, recibe un mandato inverso: renunciar a sí mismo, desaparecer en Cristo, volverse transparente a Otro.⁴

    No habéis sido ordenados para afirmaros, sino para ser consumidos. No habéis sido ordenados para ser reconocidos por este siglo, sino para ser fieles al Evangelio. No habéis sido ordenados para hablar por vosotros mismos, sino para transmitir lo que habéis recibido.⁵

    Por eso el sacerdocio siempre ha sido señal de contradicción. Contradice el espíritu de cada época —no con agitación política, sino con un testimonio ontológico. El sacerdote no se pertenece. Pertenece a Cristo, por tanto a la Iglesia, y por tanto a las almas. Y muchos de vosotros —sobre todo los más jóvenes— sabéis bien lo que es “ser tratados como reliquias anticuadas o incluso como elementos perturbadores; ignorados por las cancillerías, rechazados por los compañeros, interrogados por los familiares, e incluso privados de la fraternidad de quienes alguna vez fueron llamados hermanos.”⁶

    Tales vocaciones nunca serán cómodas.

    Seréis incomprendidos. Seréis ignorados. A veces seréis resistidos —a veces incluso por quienes comparten la fe. Puede que sirváis en la sombra, que atendáis rebaños pequeños, o que carguéis cruces invisibles y no reconocidas. Pero el Cielo mide distinto que el mundo. Una sola Misa fiel celebrada en el anonimato vale más que mil discursos elocuentes. Una sola absolución dada con fe repara más que mil editoriales. “La invisibilidad que soportáis no es un fracaso —es una purificación.”⁷

    Recordad: la dignidad del sacerdocio no depende de la visibilidad, del número ni de la influencia, sino del sacrificio. El altar —no la plataforma— es su centro. El confesionario —no el micrófono— es su tribunal. El sagrario —no la multitud— es su verdadero auditorio.⁸

    No habéis sido llamados a salvar la Iglesia con estrategia o reformas. Estáis llamados a ser santos. La santidad es la verdadera reforma de la Iglesia. Toda renovación auténtica en la historia de la Iglesia ha comenzado no con estructuras, sino con santos.⁹

    Por eso os exhorto, hijos míos: cuidad con celo vuestra vida interior. Sed fieles a la ofrenda diaria del Santo Sacrificio. Preservad el silencio de la oración. Amad la santa liturgia, no como espectáculo, sino como la misma acción de Cristo. Enseñad la sana doctrina sin componendas, y hacedlo con caridad. Huid de la tentación de acomodar el error para conservar la paz. La verdad nunca se sirve aguada.¹⁰

    Y sobre todo, permaneced sacerdotes: sacerdotes del altar, sacerdotes del confesionario, sacerdotes de la Cruz. “El sacerdote no se pertenece. Pertenece a Cristo. No está para ser servido, sino para servir. No para brillar, sino para arder.”¹¹

    No sois nada.
    Y en Cristo, sois todo.

    Con afecto paternal y la seguridad de mis oraciones.


    FRANCAIS

    Bien-aimés Fils dans le Christ,

    Alors que nous nous tenons au seuil d’une nouvelle année de grâce, je vous écris non pas comme un administrateur émettant des directives, ni comme un superviseur évaluant des résultats, mais comme un père s’adressant à ses fils dans le sacerdoce — des hommes marqués par un caractère indélébile, configurés sacramentellement au Christ, Souverain Prêtre éternel, et chargés du soin des âmes en une époque qui a presque oublié ce qu’est réellement un prêtre.

    Les mots du Vénérable Fulton J. Sheen, que je vous offre en ce commencement d’année, tranchent dans l’illusion et le sentimentalisme :

    O sacerdos! Tu quis es? Non es a te, quia de nihilo. Non es ad te, quia es mediator ad Deum. Non es tibi, quia soli Deo vivere debes. Non es tui, quia es omnium servus. Non es tu, quia alter Christus es. Quid ergo es? Nihil et omnia.¹

    “Ô prêtre ! Qui es-tu ? Tu ne viens pas de toi-même, car tu viens du néant. Tu ne mènes pas à toi, car tu es médiateur vers Dieu. Tu ne vis pas pour toi-même, car tu dois vivre pour Dieu seul. Tu ne t’appartiens pas, car tu es serviteur de tous. Tu n’es pas toi-même, car tu es un autre Christ. Qu’es-tu donc ? Rien — et tout.”

    Ce n’est pas une poésie pour l’ornement. C’est une vérité métaphysique. Elle exprime l’ontologie même du sacerdoce. Le prêtre ne possède pas sa vocation comme on posséderait une compétence ou une fonction ; il en est possédé. L’Ordre sacré imprime un caractère qui ne s’efface pas, une configuration permanente au Christ Prêtre éternel, que le monde le reconnaisse ou non.² Comme je vous l’écrivais en juillet dernier, « la clé du véritable discipulat et du progrès spirituel authentique ne réside pas dans le fait d’être affirmé, promu ou reconnu, mais dans l’abandon total du moi possessif. »³

    En un temps enivré par l’expression de soi, la définition de soi et la souveraineté de soi, le prêtre est une contradiction vivante. Le monde moderne exhorte l’homme à “être lui-même”, à affirmer son identité, à revendiquer l’autonomie comme un droit. Le prêtre, quant à lui, reçoit un commandement inverse : renoncer à soi, disparaître dans le Christ, devenir transparent à un Autre.⁴

    Vous n’avez pas été ordonnés pour vous affirmer, mais pour être consumés. Vous n’avez pas été ordonnés pour être reconnus par ce siècle, mais pour être fidèles à l’Évangile. Vous n’avez pas été ordonnés pour parler en votre nom, mais pour transmettre ce que vous avez reçu.⁵

    C’est pourquoi le sacerdoce a toujours été un signe de contradiction. Il contredit l’esprit de chaque époque — non pas par l’agitation politique, mais par un témoignage ontologique. Le prêtre n’est pas sa propre propriété. Il appartient au Christ, donc à l’Église, donc aux âmes. Et beaucoup parmi vous — en particulier les jeunes clercs — savent ce que c’est que « d’être traités comme des reliques démodées ou même des perturbateurs indésirables », « ignorés par les chancelleries, rejetés par vos pairs, interrogés par vos proches, et privés même de la fraternité de ceux qu’on appelait autrefois vos frères. »⁶

    Une telle vocation ne sera jamais confortable.

    Vous serez incompris. Vous serez ignorés. Parfois vous serez opposés — parfois même par ceux qui partagent la foi. Vous pourrez œuvrer dans l’ombre, servir de petits troupeaux, ou porter des fardeaux invisibles et non reconnus. Mais le Ciel mesure autrement que le monde. Une seule Messe fidèle célébrée dans l’oubli vaut mieux que mille discours éloquents. Une seule absolution donnée avec foi répare plus que mille éditoriaux. « L’invisibilité que vous supportez n’est pas un échec — c’est une purification. »⁷

    Souvenez-vous : la dignité du sacerdoce ne dépend pas de la visibilité, du nombre ou de l’influence, mais du sacrifice. L’autel — non l’estrade — en est le centre. Le confessionnal — non le micro — en est le véritable tribunal. Le tabernacle — non la foule — en est le vrai auditoire.⁸

    Vous n’êtes pas appelés à sauver l’Église par stratégie ou réforme. Vous êtes appelés à être saints. La sainteté est la véritable réforme de l’Église. Chaque renouveau authentique dans l’histoire de l’Église a commencé non par des structures, mais par des saints.⁹

    Je vous exhorte donc, mes fils : gardez votre vie intérieure avec vigilance. Soyez fidèles à l’offrande quotidienne du Saint Sacrifice. Préservez le silence de la prière. Aimez la sainte liturgie, non comme une performance, mais comme l’action même du Christ. Enseignez la saine doctrine sans compromis, et faites-le avec charité. Fuyez la tentation d’accommoder l’erreur pour préserver la paix. La vérité n’est jamais servie par la dilution.¹⁰

    Par-dessus tout, demeurez prêtres : prêtres de l’autel, prêtres du confessionnal, prêtres de la Croix. « Le prêtre ne s’appartient pas. Il appartient au Christ. Il n’est pas là pour être servi, mais pour servir. Pas pour briller, mais pour brûler. »¹¹

    Vous n’êtes rien. Et dans le Christ, vous êtes tout.

    Avec affection paternelle et l’assurance de mes prières.


    Christmas Message & Benediction

    Coat of arms featuring a shield with a fleur-de-lis and elements of ecclesiastical symbolism, inscribed with 'DEUS CARITAS EST'.

    Christmas Message & Benediction

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    Beloved in Christ and all who pause to listen to this Christmas message,

    Today the Church does not merely recall a birthday. She proclaims a judgment upon the world.

    Into a world ordered by power, calculation, and fear, God enters in silence. Into history swollen with empires and ideologies, He comes not as a ruler demanding allegiance, but as a child asking to be received. Not to flatter our strength, but to expose our poverty.

    He is laid in a manger, not a quaint cradle, but the feeding trough of sacrificial lambs. In Bethlehem, the house of bread, the Bread of Life is placed where victims are prepared for offering. Before there is a cross, before there is Calvary, the logic of sacrifice is already present. Christmas already contains the Mass. The crib already casts the shadow of the altar.

    And who are summoned first?
    Not princes.
    Not scholars.
    Not those with influence or prestige.

    But shepherds — men of no status, no voice, no security. In the ancient world they were mistrusted and overlooked. Yet heaven opens to them. Angels fill the night sky not to entertain, but to command: Glory to God and peace to men of good will.

    The message is unmistakable. God bypasses the powerful and entrusts His revelation to the humble. He still does.

    Even the angels teach us something essential. They do not debate. They do not negotiate meaning. They adore. And having announced Christ, they withdraw. They do not replace Him. They point to Him.

    So too must the Church.

    And so too must we.

    Christmas therefore confronts us. Neutrality is no longer possible. To welcome Christ is to choose allegiance. To kneel before the crib is to reject the lie that life can be lived without sacrifice, that love has no cost, that truth can be reshaped to suit our fears.

    Yet this is not a message of despair. It is a message of hope. God has not abandoned the world. He has entered it. Quietly. Decisively. Irreversibly.

    For some, this Christmas will be joyful. For others, it will be quiet, heavy, or uncertain. The Christian faith does not deny that reality. It speaks into it. It tells us that meaning has not vanished, that goodness still matters, and that even when the world grows dark, light remains.

    This Christmas, make room.
    In your homes.
    In your consciences.
    In your lives.

    Let the child who lay among the sacrificial lambs reign in you, so that whatever the year ahead brings, His peace may dwell within you.

    A blessed and holy Christmas to you all.



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    “Parvulum enim natus”: a Christmas Pastoral Epistle

    Coat of arms featuring a shield with a fleur-de-lis and elements of ecclesiastical symbolism, inscribed with 'DEUS CARITAS EST'.

    “Parvulus enim natus”
    a Christmas Pastoral Epistle

    To the clergy, religious, and faithful of the Old Roman Apostolate, and to all those who seek to preserve the Catholic faith in its integrity and fullness:
    grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

    Carissimi

    Parvulus enim natus est nobis, et filius datus est nobis, et factus est principatus super humerum eius.¹

    Beloved in Christ.

    A child is born to us, a son is given to us — and the government is upon His shoulder. In this single sentence, Holy Scripture gathers together what the world insists on separating: humility and authority, weakness and rule, infancy and sovereignty. Christmas opens not with sentiment but with ontology. It does not begin by asking how we feel, but by declaring what is. Before consolation, before peace, before even hope as the world understands it, the Church proclaims a fact about reality itself: Christ is King.

    This Kingship is not symbolic, not postponed, and not dependent upon recognition. It is rooted in who Christ is. The Child born at Bethlehem is King not because He will later acquire power, but because He is the eternal Son through whom all things were made. The Incarnation does not suspend His sovereignty; it reveals the manner in which divine sovereignty truly operates. The government rests upon His shoulder because all authority in heaven and on earth already belongs to Him — not by concession, but by nature.

    The year now drawing to its close has made this truth unavoidable, precisely by attempting to deny it. Again and again, we have witnessed authority exercised as though it were self-grounding: law severed from truth, power detached from reason, and moral language emptied of objective content. Institutions have demanded obedience without accountability, compliance without coherence, and trust without truth. Compassion has been invoked not as a moral virtue ordered to the good, but as a rhetorical solvent dissolving moral distinction. As Nuntiatoria has documented throughout the year, this inversion has not yielded peace or justice, but anxiety, coercion, and fragmentation.² Christmas responds not by proposing an alternative ideology, but by reasserting the metaphysical ground of authority itself: the principatus belongs to Christ.

    Nowhere has this been more evident than in the collapse of trust in institutions charged with justice and protection. Policing, courts, and safeguarding bodies have too often functioned as instruments of ideological enforcement rather than guardians of truth.³ Speech has been regulated while falsehood has been protected; narratives have been curated while facts have been obscured. In such circumstances, law ceases to be a participation in the eternal law and becomes merely an exercise of will. The result is not order, but fear. Christmas stands as a quiet rebuke to this deformation of authority. The Child who governs does not coerce. He illumines.

    The suffering of children this year exposes the same theological failure in its most tragic form. When safeguarding becomes procedural rather than moral, when responsibility is displaced by policy, and when reputations are valued more than lives, authority has already abdicated its purpose.⁴ The Incarnation judges this failure with terrifying gentleness. God enters history not as one who dominates, but as one who must be protected. In doing so, He reveals that the measure of any authority is its willingness to suffer for the innocent. Systems that sacrifice the vulnerable in order to preserve narratives or maintain ideological coherence stand condemned by the manger.

    Within the Church herself, the year has revealed a crisis not primarily of discipline or numbers, but of Christological confidence. Episcopal authority has too often been justified in managerial terms, as though governance were a technical skill rather than a participation in Christ’s own pastoral Kingship.⁵ Unity has been pursued by restriction rather than truth, by control rather than conversion.⁶ The priesthood has been flattened into a function, and the liturgy instrumentalised as a means to pastoral ends rather than received as the Church’s supreme act of worship.⁷ These developments are not merely administrative misjudgements; they reflect a deeper uncertainty about how Christ actually reigns in His Church.

    Christmas answers that uncertainty decisively. Christ reigns not through bureaucratic neutrality, but through sacramental reality. He governs His Church through truth taught, sins absolved, sacrifices offered, and souls sanctified. Authority in the Church is not creative; it is ministerial. It does not invent the faith, but hands it on. Where this is forgotten, governance becomes anxious and defensive. Where it is remembered, authority becomes luminous and life-giving.

    The disorders we have witnessed are not confined to one nation or communion. Across the Western world, the same moral grammar has asserted itself: emotion elevated over reason, inclusion over truth, process over substance.⁸ Yet alongside this decay, signs of grace have been quietly at work. Families have sought tradition not as an aesthetic preference, but as a school of reality. Young men have rediscovered discipline and vocation in a culture that has offered them neither meaning nor responsibility. Faithful souls have chosen reverence over novelty because they have intuited that worship shapes belief, and belief shapes life.⁹ These are not marginal developments. They are the beginnings of renewal.

    The Son is given. This is the grammar of divine rule. Christ does not seize His throne; He receives it through obedience unto death. His Kingship is cruciform before it is glorious. That is why it endures when all others collapse. Earthly regimes rule by force or manipulation; Christ rules by truth and love ordered by justice. A Church that forgets this seeks relevance through accommodation and becomes indistinguishable from the age. A Church that remembers it becomes a sign of contradiction — and therefore a sign of hope.¹⁰

    To our priests, this year has clarified your vocation with particular urgency. You are not managers of decline, nor facilitators of consensus, nor curators of institutional calm. You are configured sacramentally to Christ the King, the Priest, and the Judge. This configuration is not metaphorical, but ontological. By the character impressed upon your soul, you stand at the intersection of heaven and earth, charged not with inventing the Church’s mission, but with faithfully mediating Christ’s own authority to His people.

    In a time when law collapses into power, when language is emptied of meaning, and when truth is negotiated rather than proclaimed, the priest is tempted either to retreat into silence or to seek safety in accommodation. Resist both temptations. Your fidelity to the altar is not ritualism; it is an act of governance, for Christ reigns first and foremost through His Sacrifice. Your fidelity to the confessional is not optional pastoral provision; it is the restoration of divine justice through mercy, the place where shattered consciences are healed and moral reality is re-established. Your fidelity to the full truth of the faith — taught without distortion, apology, or reduction — is not rigidity, but charity. Souls cannot be healed by half-truths.

    Many of you have laboured this year under discouragement, isolation, or misunderstanding. Some have been pressured to soften what must be spoken plainly; others have been sidelined for refusing to confuse compassion with indulgence. Know this: Christ governs His Church not through managerial success, but through priestly fidelity. When you celebrate Mass reverently, preach the truth in season and out of season, and remain available to souls even when gratitude is scarce, you are exercising real authority — the authority of Christ Himself. It is through such hidden faithfulness that Christ continues to rule His people, even when His reign is denied in public discourse.¹¹

    To our faithful, the implications of this year are no less serious. Neutrality is no longer a viable posture, nor is a private faith content to remain unseen. To raise children in the Catholic faith in a culture hostile to moral formation; to pray publicly when prayer is dismissed as eccentric or threatening; to speak truthfully when silence is rewarded and falsehood protected; to order one’s life according to Christ’s law rather than the shifting norms of the age — these are no longer culturally supported actions. They are acts of allegiance.

    You should not be surprised if such fidelity costs you comfort, reputation, or ease. The Kingdom to which you belong is not an abstraction. It makes claims upon time, conduct, and conscience. You are not spectators to history, nor passive observers of cultural decline. You are subjects of a Kingdom that is real, demanding, and ultimately victorious. Your daily choices — often unnoticed and unrewarded — participate in that victory. The quiet perseverance of Christian families, the steady witness of moral integrity, and the refusal to surrender truth for acceptance are themselves signs that Christ’s reign has not been extinguished.¹²

    Christmas does not promise that the coming year will be easier. It promises something far more bracing and far more consoling: that history is governed. The Incarnation is not a sentimental interruption of a tragic story; it is the decisive claim of God upon His creation. The manger already casts the shadow of the Cross, and the Cross already bears the title of the King. The Child who lies in straw already reigns from the Tree. His Kingship is not delayed until the end of time; it is exercised now — patiently, mysteriously, and often beneath the surface of events.

    This truth steadies us when appearances suggest otherwise. History is not drifting toward chaos, nor surrendered to the will of the powerful. It is being judged, purified, and claimed. What seems like disorder is often the exposure of false authorities; what feels like loss may be the stripping away of illusions. Christ reigns even when His reign is denied, and He governs even when His governance is contested.

    As we commend the year past to God’s mercy and entrust the year ahead to His providence, we do so without illusion. Trials will continue. Confusion will persist. Authority will be contested. But the government remains where it has always been: upon His shoulder. No court can revoke it. No synod can redefine it. No ideology can erase it.

    The Nativity of Our Lord is not merely the revelation of divine humility; it is the manifestation of divine authority. As Pope Pius XI taught in Quas Primas, Christ’s Kingship is intrinsic to His Person and therefore extends beyond private devotion to laws, institutions, and public life itself.¹³ To separate Christmas from this doctrine is to sentimentalise the Incarnation and render it harmless. The Child laid in the manger already claims the nations. To deny Him that claim is not neutrality, but rebellion. To acknowledge it is not extremism, but obedience.

    Christ reigns. Christ judges. Christ will triumph.

    May the peace of Christ the King rule in your hearts and homes. May Our Lady, who first acknowledged His reign in her fiat and bore Him into history, intercede for us all. And may the blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, descend upon you and remain with you always.

    Haec est via.

    I.X.

    Signature of Jerome Seleisi, written in an elegant script.

    Brichtelmestunensis
    In Vigilia Nativitatis Domini, A.D. MMXXV

    Oremus

    Deus, qui nos redemptiónis nostræ ánnua exspectatióne lætíficas: præsta; ut Unigénitum tuum, quem Redemptórem læti suscípimus, veniéntem quoque Júdicem secúri videámus, Dóminum nostrum Jesum Christum, Fílium tuum: Qui tecum vivit et regnat in unitáte Spíritus Sancti Deus per ómnia sǽcula sæculórum. R. Amen.

    O God, You Who gladden us year after year with the expectation of our redemption, grant that we, who now welcome with joy Your only-begotten Son as our Redeemer, may also gaze upon Him without fear when He comes as our judge, our Lord Jesus Christ. Who livest and reignest with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. R. Amen


    ¹ Isaias 9:6 (Vulgate).
    ² “Police Fabrication and the New Double Standard: The Maccabi Ban, Sectarian Politics, and the Moral Collapse of British Institutions,” Nuntiatoria, 23 November 2025.
    ³ Ibid.; see also “The Failure of the Via Media: How the ‘Reformed but Catholic’ Motif Collapsed in Anglicanism,” Nuntiatoria, 7 November 2025.
    ⁴ “The Invisible Child: The Death of Sara Sharif and the Culture that Failed Her,” Nuntiatoria, 14 November 2025.
    ⁵ “New Archbishop of Westminster: Biography, Context, and the Crisis of Episcopal Confidence,” Nuntiatoria, 19 December 2025.
    ⁶ “The Leaked CDF Assessment and the Fiction of Liturgical Unity,” Nuntiatoria, 10 July 2025.
    ⁷ “The Forgotten Disposition: The Crisis of Priesthood and the Loss of Sacramental Culture,” Nuntiatoria, 7 December 2025.
    ⁸ “The Illusion of Restoration: Christianity Without Christ, the Church Without Authority,” Nuntiatoria, 19 July 2025.
    ⁹ “Generational Shift in the Priesthood: Young Clergy, Tradition, and the Collapse of Synodal Enthusiasm,” Nuntiatoria, 24 October 2025.
    ¹⁰ Ibid.; cf. “The Orphaned Altar: On the Crisis of Episcopal Fatherhood,” Nuntiatoria, 17 October 2025.
    ¹¹ “The Holiness of Priests Contributes to Make the Faithful Holy,” Nuntiatoria, 16 December 2025.
    ¹² “The Apathy of Apostasy: False Compassion and the Collapse of Faith,” Nuntiatoria, 24 July 2025.
    ¹³ Pius XI, Quas Primas (11 December 1925), §§17–18.



    Please note that all material on this website is the Intellectual Property (IP) of His Grace, the Titular Archbishop of Selsey and protected by Copyright and Intellectual Property laws of the United Kingdom, United States and International law. Reproduction and distribution without written authorisation of the owner is prohibited.

    (©)The Titular Archbishop of Selsey 2012-2025. All Rights Reserved.


    O Emmanuel

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    The seventh great “O” is: O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos Domine Deus noster.

    English: O Emmanuel, God with us, our King and lawgiver, the expected of the nations and their Savior: come to save us, O Lord our God.

    It reflects the following prophecies and Scripture:

    O Emmanuel, God with us, our King and lawgiver, the expected of the nations and their Saviour:

    • immanuel03Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Isaiah 7:14 [also Isaiah 8:8; Isaiah 8:10] The Hebrew word ‘virgin’ occurs seven times in the Old Testament. It means a young woman of marriageable age, normally a virgin (Gen. 24:43). The Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament made about 150 b.c.) translated with a word more specifically meaning “virgin.” The New Testament understands Isaiah to be designating the Virgin Mary (Matt. 1:23). See “The Virgin Birth of Jesus” at Luke 1:27. Immanuel means “God with us.” The name conveys God’s promise to save, bless, and protect His children. Tradition identifies the child as the Messiah, a divine personage whose birth is above nature. It equates the Child named “Immanuel” with the Child possessing God’s titles in 9:6, and with the “Branch” of ch. 11.
    • Isaiah7.14Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us. Matthew 1:23 Jesus’ conception by a virgin is miraculous, announcing that God will soon redeem His people and is present with them. This quotation is the first of a number of Old Testament references Matthew uses to show that Jesus fulfills the Old Testament. A parallel thought is found in  John 1:14 And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. Highlighting the fulfilment of the Messianic prophecies in Christ (see O Adonai)
    • And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the LORD of hosts. Haggai 2:7 (see O Rex gentium)

    come to save us, O Lord our God.

    • Again the Church expresses the prayer of the redeemed who recognise Christ as the “Word” i.e. the “logos”, the “Ruach Elohim” the Creator with God of the world, see O Sapientia.

    O Rex gentium

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    The sixth great “O” is: O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum, lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum: veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti.

    English: O King of the gentiles and their desired One, the cornerstone that makes both one: come, and deliver man, whom you formed out of the dust of the earth.

    It reflects the following prophecies and Scripture:

    O King of the gentiles and their desired One,

    • council_in_heaven2And they sing the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb, saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints. Revelation 15:3 Most probably the song of deliverance after the passage of the Red Sea (Exodus 15.), to which this bears a general resemblance. Moses is called the “servant of God” in Exodus 14:31 and elsewhere. The song of Moses is also the song of the Lamb; the Old Testament and the New Testament Churches are one. Saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty (cf. Exodus 15:7, “And in the greatness of thine excellency thou hast overthrown them;” also Psalm 111:2; Psalm 139:14). This song, like that in Revelation 4:8, is addressed to the “Lord God Almighty.” Christ is in this song addressed as a divine person, as Lord of all, God over all, blessed for ever, the Almighty God, as His works declare Him to be; His works of creation, providence, and redemption, which are all great and marvellous, particularly the accomplishment of the glorious things spoken of His church, and the destruction of His enemies, which are here designed (see O Adonai and O Clavis David).

    the cornerstone…

    • The Corner StoneTherefore thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation: he that believeth shall not make haste. Isaiah 28:16 [comp. The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner. Psalm 118:22] In contrast with the insecure refuge and false ground of confidence whereon the nobles relied, the prophet puts forward the one sure “Rock” on which complete dependence may be placed – which he declares that Jehovah is laying, or “has laid,” in Zion as a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation. The imagery is, no doubt, drawn from the practice of Oriental kings, and notably Solomon, to employ foundation-stones of enormous size and weight at the corners of buildings. Some of those uncovered at the corners of Solomon’s temple by the Palestine Exploration Fund are more than thirty-eight feet long, and weigh above a hundred tons (see ‘Our Work in Palestine,’ pp. 38, 115). But the reference cannot, of course, be to the material structure of the temple as Israel’s true refuge. Rather, Jehovah himself would seem to be the Rock (Isaiah 26:4; Isaiah 30:29, etc.) intended; and hence the application to Christ by the writers of the New Testament (Romans 9:33; Ephesians 2:20; 1 Peter 2:6-8) was natural and easy.

    …that makes both one:

    • High_Priest_Jesus_heaven_Ark-of-the-Covenant“Jesus saith unto them, Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner: this is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes?” Matthew 21:42 [Mark 12:10; Luke 20:17] By the Old Testament saints, and by saints in all ages, who have ventured their souls on Him, and laid the whole stress of their salvation upon Him, and have been saved by Him; and by Satan, and his principalities and powers, by his temptations of Him in the wilderness, and by his attacks upon Him in the garden, and on the cross, and found Him to be an immovable stone, and were broken by Him; and by His divine Father, who tried His faithfulness by trusting Him with all His elect, and the salvation of them; and His great strength, by laying upon Him all their sins, and the punishment due unto them. Some render it, “a stone of trial”, or “a trying stone” by which men are tried, and discovered to be what they are, whether believers or unbelievers, sincere Christians or hypocrites; which may be known by their conduct and behaviour to Christ; if they come to Him as a living stone, and He is precious to them, they are true believers; but if He is to them a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence, they are unbelievers, and reprobate persons, 1 Peter 2:4,
    • This is the stone which was set at nought of you builders, which is become the head of the corner. Acts 4:11 So the Apostles preach themselves that Christ is the foundation of all their ministry, so that the churches “…are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone” Ephesians 2:20

    come, and deliver man, whom you formed out of the dust of the earth.

    • So the Church expresses the prayer of the redeemed who recognise Christ as the “Word” i.e. the “logos”, the “Ruach Elohim” the Creator with God of the world, see O Sapientia.

    O Oriens

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    The fifth great “O” is: O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol iustitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis.

    English: O dawn of the east, brightness of light eternal, and sun of justice: come, and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

    It reflects the following prophecies and Scripture:

    O dawn of the east, brightness of light eternal, and sun of justice:

    • desert_sunriseBut unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall. Malachi 4:2 The sun which is righteousness, who radiates the healing rays of salvation. This Divine righteousness shall shine forth upon them that live in holy fear of the the Name of God, filling and flooding them with joy and light, healing all wounds, removing all miseries, making them incalculably blessed. The Fathers generally apply the title of “Sun of Righteousness” to Christ, who is the Source of all justification and enlightenment and happiness, and who is called  “The Lord our Righteousness.” (Jeremiah 23:6)
      The happiness of the righteous is illustrated by a homely image drawn from pastoral pursuits. They had been, as it were, hidden in the time of affliction and temptation; they shall go forth boldly now, free and exulting, like calves driven from the stall to pasture (comp. Psalm 114:4, 6; Song of Solomon 2:8, 17).
    • Through the tender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us, Luke 1:78 So praises Zacharias in his noble hymn, all this tender care for Israel (though really for all humanity, if he hadn’t guessed it) is owing to the deep love of God. Whereby “the Dayspring from on high hath visited us.” In his temple service at Jerusalem the priest must have seen the ruddy dawn rise grandly over the dark chain of the distant mountains, and lighting up with a blaze of golden glory the everlasting hills as they stood around Jerusalem. This same thought has ever been held by the Church who in her worship bids us face East towards the Lord. The thought which pictured the advent of Messiah as a sunrise was a favourite with the prophets, “Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For behold… Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of the; rising” (Isaiah 60:1-3). “Unto you that fear my Name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in his wings” (Malachi 4:2).

    come, and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

    • walkedindarknessThe people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined. Isaiah 9:2 All the world was “in darkness” when Christ came; but here the Jews especially seem to be intended. “The Light of the world,” “the Sun of righteousness,” “the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world,” “first broke on man in that northern tract” by the way of the sea, “when Jesus came forward to teach and to preach in “Galilee of the Gentiles.” For thirty years He had dwelt at Nazareth, in Zebulon. There He had first come forward to teach in a synagogue (Luke 4:16-21); in Galilee He had performed His first miracles (John 2:11; John 4:54); at Capernaum. “Upon the sea coast, in the borders of Zabulon and Nephthalim,” He commenced His preaching of repentance (Matthew 4:13-17). The “light” first streamed forth in this quarter, glorifying the region on which contempt had long been poured, before bursting forth across the world, through the rays of the apostolic mission reaching through the ages to every quarter of the globe through their preaching of the Gospel.