Spiritual Mass Murder Is Fun

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–> Goodbye, Good Men: How Liberals Brought Corruption into the Catholic Church, by Michael Rose [Amazon link. Available elsewhere, too]

–> Video:  Mr. Rose discusses his new bookGoodbye, Good Men: How Liberals Brought Corruption into the Catholic Church

–> Book Review: “An aspect of particular importance is his telling how young men who are both non-homosexual and who believe in traditional Catholicism are weeded out of the seminaries and barred from becoming priests.  The new orthodoxy isn’t passive; instead, it actively screens out those who don’t fit its mold.  The existence of this ostracism is perhaps the main thrust of his book.” [my emPHASis]

–> An interview with Michael Rose

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~ MOST PEOPLE IN THE PEWS, assuming the best, think seminaries and theology schools are holy centres for imparting piety, learning, wisdom, and Christ-like zeal to new clergy.

“Surely,” they suppose, “such places are little outposts of God’s Kingdom on earth, training up our ministers and priests into fine examples of preachers, teachers, pastors, and human beings.” You know, just like universities in 2017 are centres of learning, calm scholarship, and imparting the wisdom and skills of the ages to young and eager minds. Not unreasonable– but naive in 2017.

Because, The Asteroid.

The Truth-Shattering Kaboom

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Western church & society, 1930-1070s and onwards….

When the Awesome Utopian World Revolution was slow a-comin’ after the 1800s and the bloodthirsty Soviet revolt, Communists and Socialists decided to go after All The Things. Schools, and universities; governments; culture and media; business and Charitable Foundations; and especially all the churches. Afterwards, the outside would still appear the same– think all those hallowed & Ivy-clad towers of academe– but the inside would be radicalized beyond all recognition. The key was and is to keep the ordinary suckers mostly clueless, and still attending & paying for it all.

This group of fellow travellers were the Frankfurt School, and they taught the ideas and techniques for subversion. Imagine something which looks & sounds exactly like your dear Auntie Mabel, but she’s actually a pod person replacement.

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Unfortunately, a carcass skin suit doesn’t cover the stench of death.

For the churches, the same process that we see bearing fruit now in North American and European centres of higher learning– ignorance, violence, propaganda, safe-spaces, and a lock step progressive/ soft-Communist ideology which brooks no opposition, especially in the extremist professoriate. This same mutation has been ongoing since the early years of the last century. Those boys who died on the beaches of Normandy? Behind them, at home, the rot had begun to quietly settle into the very institutions and society they were fighting for Over There. A bittersweet thought.

Naming Names & Details

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A Very Bad Man, Catholic author & tattle-taler Michael Rose. Boo!

In his heart-breaking book Goodbye, Good Men: How Liberals Brought Corruption into the Catholic Church, Michael Rose details the 1990s American fruit of this process– how Catholic seminarians were and are bullied, brow-beaten, threatened, and charmed or coerced into hoop-jumping and ideological mutation– even homosexuality and heresy. If you are at all “rigid” (believe the faith), or “sexually immature™” (same-sexuality, its militancy, and that many of your fellow students and some professors were barely in the closet), you’d be black-balled– not only from that school or diocese, but almost all of them.

Young vulnerable students have left such places of mis-education utterly broken, or having lost their faith, or become radicals; older experienced students come away aghast, stressed, and boggle-minded at the horrid politics and brutal abuse of the faith and lives of people offering themselves to the Church as potential clergy or priests. Faithful souls are being sacrificed on the altar of political correctness at such places year in and out.

A Lovely Outpost Of Hell

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“Pish-posh!” you scoff, “Pish and posh! How bad can it be, really? Surely we must put our trust in such reputable and accredited places to help the church provide decent future leaders for itself.” Pish-posh?.. except, I’ve been there.

The Atlantic School of Theology sits on some muy pricey real estate waterside in Halifax’s wealthy South End. Ironically, some of the Leftist professors in my day lived in small mansions, and many students lived on campus, or in nearby apartments. Looks very spiffy & hallowed, eh? Local Anglicans, United, Catholics, and even Unitarians, go there.

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True Story– I Was There

When I attended in 1987-88, one of my professors was a pro-wicca (sorry, “wymyns spirituality’) lesbian, who seemingly predated on some of her female students every year. Another was apparently an all-but-avowed Communist. Still another was openly homosexual (although the best educated and freshest prof there by far).

Another faculty member was a glorified BA, who most assumed was a Ph.D. The liturgy expert (always beware those) was a bitterish radicalized nun, who loved everything about Vatican II, nothing before, and made it clear that the slightest dissent (from The Dissent) was not welcome. Yet another wonky Roman Catholic teacher told us during the Intro To Theology 101 class that the most important thing in reading in St. Augustine, was what we thought the saint meant. Uh?

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Other faculty taught as unquestionable Gospel only the most radical of theories about the Bible, morality, social justice (Marxism), theology, and the like. Our textbooks were mostly in the same line– a critique of classical Christianity, without ever actually teaching what the content or practice and worship of that faith properly was…. Er, oops.

Such A Friendly Place

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There was a remarkable amount of smiling and superficial bonhomie, hugs, and slightly creepy touching. Yet at every point, you were always under ‘pastoral’ surveillance for any ‘disaffirming’ (non-radical) opinions on theology, God, abortion, divorce, homosexual marriage, feminism, homosexuality, women clergy, the creeds, and political & social issues of the day. Warms the old cockles.

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Smile. Or else.

In fact, if you weren’t sporting a rictus (or smirking) and faux cheery-looking and accepting of everything & everyone at all times, that was suspect, too. Malcontent? Critical? Unpastoral? Grim? Judgmental? Not gruntled, or not with The ‘rich & challenging’ Program?!?

Not only the professors and ‘academic supervisors’ were on the snoop, but your fellow students were also watching for non-non-conformity, or ‘nurturing community’. Snitching (or “sharing pastoral concerns about X” with the leadership), I suspect, was encouraged.

Step out of line, be non-affirming, rigid, sexually immature, judgmental, narrow-minded, or dare question a prof? BAM. You risked a low grade, a black mark in your permanent record, being shunned by your fellow students and the faculty, and a non-recommendation for ordination. A nice little ‘Christian’ Gulag Archipelago nestled right there on Halifax’s Northwest Arm.

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Nurturing. Pastoral. Caring & sharing. Awwk. Even some of the more progressive students found the place rather a joke, and more than a little oppressive. TO be fair, not all of them were “true believers’ like most of the faculty was then.

Like Sheeps, No Shepherds

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Modernist theology schools.. where you can lose your faith, and your soul.  All according to the plan.

Sadly, many of my classmates were ‘second career’ mature candidates, with little or no university background, or relevant studies. Some were nice people, but barely able to write a term paper. Others were like innocent sheep before the sophistical and practiced academic brow-beating of their wolfish profs– academics who could and did at any moment crush hopes & futures with a bad review, or a word to your bishop or sponsoring group, or sneering and mocking of your ‘naive & pietistic’ faith in class.

Behold the ‘tolerant, affirming, open & flexible’ Revolution. It’s mind-warping and soul-crushing– and designed to be that way, precisely so you will imbibe and parrot the revolution and not The Christian Faith, then spread the infection to others. Or else.

Problem was, I came fresh to the place with a hot double BA in history and Philosophy/ Religious studies. 4.1 GPA. I’d been pushed for Ph.D work, but wanted to do parish work first, then a doctorate. “Narrow-minded and conservative, but warm and cuddly” was my motto for AST.

What Fresh Hell?…

161919-200x200-praise-dance-clip-art-5The daily worship at that school was predictably freakish– almost weekly the furniture was moved about, and we might get an angry feminist liturgy one day (with confession prayers only for the males present); or else rainbow stoles & vestments; a pro-Sandinista/ Liberation Theology homily the next; some women galumphing  liturgical dance in polyester and chiffon the week after, and then maybe Gaia-Mother Earth and native prayers scheduled for next time.

All this with a progressive/ Marxist post-Christian slant, all done very self-consciously and badly, even if robed or clothed in old-sounding forms. Missing out, or non-enthusiasm (eek!), or non-participation (GASP!) was duly noted.

Of course, nibbles plus the ideologically correct coffee from then-Communist Sandinista Nicaragua for afters. No joke.

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Joiiin Usssss.

Who Will Protect Us?

For my own class of first-years, I ended up as unofficial spokesman, despite my odd-man out status. When I announced I was leaving that school for another, several of the feminists– much to my shock– were openly upset (this, in the class poorly co-taught by The Feminist & The Communist.. one day, we even did colouring with crayons). As we discussed my leaving, a young woman classmate broke into tears, and actually said to me “But who will protect us from the professors, and ask all the right questions?”

PROTECT. They knew. What a sad commentary, that. I almost stayed. However, after those same profs tried (and failed) to give me a rotten mark, I knew the fix would be in if I remained there.

Spiritual Mass Murder

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Why is the church shrinking, and why are so many clergy so weird? How did we get here?

This spiritual holocaust of the future leadership of the Church has been going on now since I was born… that’s two or two-and-a-half generations of mistreatment, mutation, abuse, radicalization, mis-education of the very people who are supposed to set forth the Gospel to the Church and world, lead on moral, social and theological questions, and save souls unto heaven. Instead, we have hard-progressive or squishy or compromised and shallow clergy, many of whom may mean well, but who don’t have the education or spiritual resources people think they do, and that they should have.

The Canadian & U.S. (and U.K.– Google ‘Maynooth Scandal’) Roman Church clergy formation system has it very bad, but most of the protestant schools are close behind them. It is a horror story, a tale of abuse of trust, fraud, authority, rank heresy, and cruelty.. and a cynical exploitation of the innocent students and financial supporters of such places.

But Wait, There’s Moar!

So what? Here’s what.

(1) Don’t EVER assume your clergy have had a proper education, spiritual formation, or that their cleverness in the pulpit is worth listening to. Test the spirits. Seek out the good ones, and help, pray for, and support them.

(2) If you or someone you know or care for are thinking about going into the clergy, warn him to do lots of deep research, interviews, and fact-checking about the places they are considering. Some are outposts of heaven, most are sinks of hell, or wastes of time.

(3) The “clergy selection processes” in many parts of the church are geared against non-radicals, and are as impartial and fair-minded and godly as an ecclesiastical Gestapo. The gatekeepers are meant to weed out the “difficult”, and pass through the malleable, the naive, the well-meaning, the clueless, or the people who can conceal their real selves and just go through the motions.

(4) If you or any wealthy person you know thinks piling money, bequests, and donations into such corrupted places of clergy malformation is a great and pious work, think again. Starve these progressive outposts of post-Christianity of cash, and do your research properly. Don’t unwittingly aid and abet these outposts of darkness because the people seem nice, and it’s a fancy old building, and the profs talk all holy on founder’s day.

(5) If you’re stuck at such a place, keep your head down, keep in touch with allies outside the place who can vouch & fight for you when the hammer comes down, and do your own course of studies in all the major areas, with the best authors, so you’ve actually learned something in your time. Be friendly and happy.. the predatorial system has broken better far people than you, and spit them out like ground-up bones. Pray, pray, pray without ceasing, for yourself, your fellow students, and your professors. Prayers of light exorcism may also help. You will be scarred, hurt, and mistreated.

ITYS.

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Finally, In Conclusions

This abuse-scandal has been largely hidden for 50 years and more, and books like that of Michael Rose– though dated now– lift the rug on the creepy-crawlies, filth and dirty secrets of the radicalized Church, which has captured many ecclesiastical institutions, yet pretended to be the same as before.

And no, DON’T go to the Atlantic School of Theology in Halifax, Nova Scotia, for any reason whatsoever. Don’t give to it, or support it. Very pretty landscape, though. ~

Thus saith,

Teh Binks

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The true spirit behind many modern seminary experiences.

 

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SwissAir 111, 1998– A Terror Bombing?

 

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–> Twice As Far: Book, Reviews, in-depth data

–> Hagmann & Hagmann Video Interview – Sgt. Tom Juby & Swissair 111

–> BOOK REVIEW: Swissair crash investigator believes there was a cover-up; Q & A With Author

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I CANNOT FORGET the gawd-awful BOOOOOOOOM. The rectory office windows rattled a bit; I felt the shake through the floor as well as in the air. September 2, 1998, 9:31pm.

Rushing outside, I peered in the direction of the Tim Hortons.. had their propane gone up? Nothing. The night was dark. No alarums or excursions or bright lights, but I felt deep in my bones this noise was bad.  Bad bad.

Hmm. As a chaplain to the local fire department, I headed over there.. just next door. The doors were open, some members were milling about with coffee, and the TVs were on the news…

Word began to come in.. a Swiss airliner flying from New York to Switzerland had crashed somewhere near us… possibly inland, they thought. The alarm went off, cars raced up, the members were still hauling on gear as the trucks raced off with them, leaving a small crew behind to man the radio, and monitor the news. Tom the fire chief told me later that they’d even beaten the Hubbard’s Volunteer Fire Department to the scene.. only.. there was no scene.

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Cell Phones: Not Useless

I called all the local clergy I could.. the Pentecostal guy on Tancook, the Anglican rectors along the coast in Blandford and elsewhere; the local Baptist guy. Local & area fishermen were heading out for some basic search and rescue, if possible.. they found only wreckage of the McDonnell Douglas MD-11.. luggage.. shredded body parts.. everywhere, the stench of aircraft fuel. 229 men women and children went into the water, but none were now alive to rescue.

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In Halifax, my Anglican bishop called some clergy to come to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital to wait for possible survivors. No survivors ever came. The clergy– from as far as an hour and a half out from Halifax– drove home in the early hours, as the scope of the disaster became clear.

As then-rector of the nearby Chester Parish, I helped out as I was able, including holding an internationally reported-on church service which filled the main parish church to the rafters, partly recorded for PBS. I gave interviews, made a small blog for news, tried to help my fire-fighters and other local clergy in the aftermath.

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St. Stephen’s Anglican Church, Chester, Nova Scotia

Fast Forward

As a typical Canadian, I assume the best about “order and good government”; and that people are, on the whole, not too bad. Assume– or hope for– the best.

Of course, Canadians had served, fought, and died in many 20th century wars: World Wars 1 & 2, The Korean “Police Action”; Vietnam; the Balkans & Somalia; the Bush Family Iraq Wars; Afghanistan; and even the illegal attacks on Libya in support of the terrorist-backed “Arab Spring” being engineered out of NATO & Washington and other Western capitals.

Still, it doesn’t happen here, eh? We’re nice. Mostly harmless. Nobody would think to– directly or indirectly– exploit, abuse, or harm us, would they? This deliberate niavete continues to 2017, and our widespread official non-response to the realities of Jihad, Islamic culture, and Muslim Supremacist activities in our country.

Opening My Eyes

The last I knew– after the ridiculous official Mourning Show & Hug In put on by Liberal then-Prime Minister Chretien and his bullying PMO, which actually forbade all the Christian clergy attending from naming Jesus Christ in the ‘ecumenical service’– was that the official report blamed the onboard entertainment service for causing a fire, etc. etc., loss of power, crash, all lives lost. Very sad, all over except the crying.

Until about 10 days ago.

Must Pee The Dog

Wee Wallace The Wonder Poodle has his routine, and I like to stick to it. His latter walk includes going up the hill to be snarled at by a neighbor-dog ‘Coco’; and then hoping to see his darling poochy-love Bella.. a small Lassie-type dog.

I was chatting with Bella’s owner, and she said her husband had come across an eye-opening book by a retired RCMP investigator for the SwissAir 111 case. The book said that the crash was due to a bomb, but the authorities– including the RCMP, and the powers that be in Ottawa, had been part of a cover-up.

So I told her a little of my involvement in the matter, and she left me outside for a second– with Bella & Wallace doing their doggy-waltz– and got the book to lend. I just finished reading it yesterday.

Given what we all thought we knew, this was a revelation. I could be no more shocked than if I heard that ground-shaking BOOOOM all over again at this very moment.

The Book

Swissair 111 crashed in 1998. Now, 19 years later, the leading RCMP forensic investigator for the Swissair, RCMP Sgt. Tom Juby, has tried to connect the dots, and set the record straight. He has paid personally, professionally and humanly for his due diligence in research, expertise, identifying remains, the recording & photographing the wreckage of the crashed airline after it was recovered from the sea-floor by divers and huge grapple-salvage barges and the help of other ships.

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It’s dense; well-written; factual; I’m not going to give a review except to say it possibly reveals fraud, criminal conspiracy, interference in police investigation and forensic evidence gathering, a massive cover-up, and blatant lying and falsifying the truth to America, Canada, the Swiss, and the world– all in line with the likewise covered-up crash of TWA800, and other terror attacks which have blighted our world since the original Twin Towers Bombing of 1993.

Long story short: an incendiary device of some sort appears to have been deliberately inserted in the “attic space” of Swissair 111, where it would do the most damage to the electrical system. The resulting fire burnt at 1700C, melting aluminum and sealing in tell-tale chemical traces into the nearby wires. Whether this was terrorism, or has to do with the missing cargo of diamonds and paintings, and a hope that the plane would have crashed deep in the ocean remains unclear. The recipe for the bomb-type used was (and still is) readily available on the internet.

Make It Worse? OK.

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Worse, leading figures and their intermediaries in the the RCMP and the TSB (Canadian Transportation Safety Board) appear to have lied and concealed the truth of what happened to the 229 homicide victims of Swissair 111, as well as from the U.S government and investigators, the FAA, the FBI, and the US, Canadian, and Swiss public.

Good old (Liberal) Canadian officialdom. Lies, cover-ups, collusion, pre-determined reports counter to evidence; top-down bullying & incompetence and illegal threat-making. Blame the lower-downs. Hide the stuff. Don’t make important people look bad. Don’t let the media know, or the public suspect. It’s all settled– “Accident”– so keep on message. Or else.

While Justin Trudeau is in power, there will be no re-opening or proper criminal investigation of the crash or the cover-up of this shameful episode in Canadian history, given that it took place on the Liberal Party watch. Sunny days.

Bomb, fraud & criminal cover-up. Mind blown.

Thus saith,

The Binks

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Look! A Squirrel!

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~ SO THERE WAS your humble WebElf, reading (online) the Pusey translation of The Confessions of St. Augustine (Book VIII), and I came across pre-saint Augustine’s comments about how deeply moved he was by the book, The Life Of Anthony (of Egypt). Quotation below.

My brain is.. well.. not unlike a goofy hamster on caffeine, so away I went to find a copy of the said other book, and started reading that.. before having finished Confessions... which I promptly forgot to finish. Welcome to my world.

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What’s not to like? A book written by a saint.. about a saint, which inspired another man to eventually become a saint. Doesn’t that insta-rate five stars.. or, perhaps, haloes?

The Book Itself

Written by St. Athanasius of Alexandria, The Life Of St. Anthony of Egypt, primary founder of Christian monasticism, is a readable, gripping, and inspiring Christian classic. St. Augustine, in his confessions, describes reading it along with his friends, and being deeply moved by it.

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A youngish St. Augustine and his mother, St. Monica, she of the very very patient and constant prayers for her wayward son.

None of us knows the effect of our lives, actions, words– or failures in the same– on our neighbours and times, or those to come. For St. Anthony and St. Augustine both knew that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is faithful, and sow they spiritually sowed their seed and cleared the fields of rocks in their times. Lo and behold, those earlier heroes of the faith inspired one of the great Church Fathers in his day and age to fight the battles,  the good fight of faith, in his day and age.

A reminder to abide faithful, however hard the slog or dark the times.

Cheers,

Binks, Elf of Web


 

14. Upon a certain day, then, Nebridius being away (why, I do not remember), lo, there came to the house to see Alypius and me, Pontitianus, a countryman of ours, in so far as he was an African, who held high office in the emperor’s court. What he wanted with us I know not, but we sat down to talk together, and it fell out that upon a table before us, used for games, he noticed a book; he took it up, opened it, and, contrary to his expectation, found it to be the Apostle Paul—for he imagined it to be one of those books which I was wearing myself out in teaching. At this he looked up at me smilingly, and expressed his delight and wonder that he had so unexpectedly found this book, and this only, before my eyes. For he was both a Christian and baptized, and often prostrated himself before You our God in the church, in constant and daily prayers.

When, then, I had told him that I bestowed much pains upon these writings, a conversation ensued on his speaking of Antony, the Egyptian monk, whose name was in high repute among Your servants, though up to that time not familiar to us. When he came to know this, he lingered on that topic, imparting to us a knowledge of this man so eminent, and marvelling at our ignorance. But we were amazed, hearing Your wonderful works most fully manifested in times so recent, and almost in our own, wrought in the true faith and the Catholic Church. We all wondered— we, that they were so great, and he, that we had never heard of them.

15. From this his conversation turned to the companies in the monasteries, and their manners so fragrant unto You, and of the fruitful deserts of the wilderness, of which we knew nothing. And there was a monastery at Milan full of good brethren, without the walls of the city, under the fostering care of Ambrose, and we were ignorant of it. He went on with his relation, and we listened intently and in silence.

He then related to us how on a certain afternoon, at Triers, when the emperor was taken up with seeing the Circensian games, he and three others, his comrades, went out for a walk in the gardens close to the city walls, and there, as they chanced to walk two and two, one strolled away with him, while the other two went by themselves; and these, in their rambling, came upon a certain cottage inhabited by some of Your servants, poor in spirit, of whom is the kingdom of heaven, where they found a book in which was written the life of Antony. This one of them began to read, marvel at, and be inflamed by it; and in the reading, to meditate on embracing such a life, and giving up his worldly employments to serve You….

Conf. VIII. 14-15.