A Gay War in Gay Vatican
by Professor Marek Jan Chodakiewicz
22 June 2019
In their controversial The Pink Swastika: Homosexuality in the Nazi Party (Sacramento, CA: Veritas Aeterna Press, 2002) Scott Lively and Kevin Abrams reduced the interwar decade in Germany to the struggle between “butches” and “fairies”. The former were Nazis, while the latter leftists: liberals, socialists, and communists. Quite simply, in this telling, the 1920s and 1930s witnessed a life-and-death struggle among German homosexuals driven by competing ideologies.
A very similar paradigm obtains in Frédéric Martel — a gay activist, Catholic apostate at 13 years of age, currently a “Catholic atheist” (p. 547), a French laicite worshiper, a fan of decapitation in the revolution in France, an Opus Dei hater, an anti-anti-Communist, progressive journalist, and leftist sociologist. He recently wrote In the Closet of the Vatican: Power, Homosexuality, Hypocrisy (London and New York: Bloomsbury Continuum, 2019).
The objective of the author is straightforward: “Everything needs to be rebuilt and changed, or there is a risk that we will witness the disappearance of a religion” (p. 93). He defies “the outdated theocracy that is the Vatican” (p. 371). He proceeds to chart out a course which entails the embrace of the oppressed peripheries of humanity, including homosexuality, of course, to save the Catholic Church. It must start at the gay Vatican: “Welcome to Sodoma” (p. 152).
The author is a hard core blasphemer. He hates the Bible (p. 304). “Did McDonald’s exert pressure to ensure that the holy virgin [sic] was moved away from its McNuggets?” is one of Martel’s jokes (p. 308). Here’s another: “I discover the holy trinity [sic] of LGBT artists: Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangelo and Caravaggio” (p. 315).
For a Catholic to read this tabloidish work of blasphemy, a strong stomach is a must. The book should go on the Index; yet, I recommend familiarizing oneself with the author’s arguments and revelations, which go as follows:
The Vatican is much more rambunctious than San Francisco. The Holy See contains perhaps as many as 70% homosexuals (p. 309). The same applies to the Church at large. In Mexico, for example, the gay condition impacts over 70% of the episcopate and 75% of priests (p. 244). “There are now more ‘practicing’ homosexuals in the CEI [The Conference of the Italian Episcopate] than there are at San Francisco City Hall” (p. 395). All of them are closeted. Some are liberal and progressive but they suffer cruel repression by the conservatives and anti-Communists of the currently dominant faction. The latter preaches homophobia hatefully by day, and practices homosexuality hypocritically by night.
Thus, we witness an all out war between, on the one hand, gay liberators and mostly practicing “hypocrites” (but a few chaste ones as well), on the other. The war is further projected into the outside world in congruence with this dichotomous relationship. Take “gay marriage” as an example. “An army of homophilic priests and closeted homosexual prelates… mobilize against another army of ‘openly gay activists.’ The war over gay marriage was, more than ever, a battle between homosexuals” (p. 342).
How can we discover the “hypocrites” in the Church? We must assume they are everywhere. Martel obliges: “Homosexual life in the Vatican and more broadly in the Catholic Church, taking the form of clandestine companionship, seems to me to be structured as a rhizome” (p. 479). A wild bush, it is everywhere, horizontally and vertically, underground and above ground. The Vatican by-word is SWAG: “Secretly We Are Gay” (p. 276). And it is ok because Jesus was gay and in love with Saint John that is allegedly recorded in the Gospel of St. Luke (p. 276).
Yet, the crude rule “Don’t fuck the flock” (p. 152) falls on the deaf ears of many a priest, according to Martel. Some of the “hypocrites” are also brazen pedophiles. One hierarch in Cuba, for instance, allegedly enjoys “blessing boys’ penises” (p. 525). Consequently, the author insists, with no concrete proof, there are “tens of thousands” of abusers and “hundreds of thousands” of abused in the Church (p. 511). However, only hateful people, conservatives mostly, would see a connection between homosexuality and pedophilia. At any rate, the Vatican countenances such nefarious abuse of children. Nay, it actively shields the predators. So long as they publicly adhere to the Magisterium of the Church regarding homosexuality, they can disregard it privately.
According to Martel, this is the default reflex of the power hungry gay Curia. The author calls it “the parish,” or, alternatively, “gay freemasonry” (p. 169). He also insists that there is no “gay lobby” at the Vatican, but a multitude of factions. The “lobby” would entail unity and solidarity. But “the parish” is multifarious and multifaceted. Even within the “hypocritical” orientation, there are numerous coteries. So it’s personal and it’s a “system”: “a system of hypocrisy” (p. 273). That is the true face of Catholicism as far as its priestly cadres and top leadership.
In Martel’s view, not just the Vatican, but the Church at large is ridden with homosexuals. He recognizes five kinds, according to the typology introduced by French gay poet Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine (p. 533-535). The ubiquity of “queers” among the clergy stems from the fact that in the “homophobic” decades before Stonewall revolution, Catholic seminaries were the only places of refuge for the “odd” kids. And those seminarians eventually became priests so they would not have to touch women. They usually became sexually self-aware as adults, but more than a few of them experienced the sweet, yet homophobicly forbidden homosexual fruit while at the seminary. Some of the youth were simply raped by their superiors. Others explored their desires with similarly inclined seminarians, or took advantage of the confusion and weakness of the younger ones.
Some, in particular in the wake of the gay liberation movement, let their hair down and cruised for sex in the outside world prodigiously. “The fact that seminaries have a large majority of young gays has become quite banal: they experience their homosexuality as perfectly normal, and go out discreetly to gay clubs without too much difficulty” (p. 401), in particular in the United States, Cardinal Zenon Grocholewski’s efforts to thwart the practice to no avail. For all purposes, the rule “don’t ask don’t tell” applies to all seminarians nowadays (p. 409).
Now, fortunately, according to Martel, the sexual revolution renders the necessity to enroll in a seminary null and void. One can freely come out of the closet and enjoy life, in particular if one had to suppress his urges as painfully as former priest Krzysztof Charamsa from Poland, for example. He is now free, while others remain in pain, hypocritically closeted. The author has nothing but empathy for him and others. For example, “his Christ-like suffering” refers to the practicing homosexual “Father Louis” who died of AIDS, Martel’s parson and role model as a child (p. 550).
The French gay activist sees a remedy to such pathologies in promoting liberation theology within the Catholic Church. Martel places himself squarely behind so called “dissidents.” And he wholeheartedly elucidates their message: “the importance of race, sex or sexual orientation in relation to exclusion or poverty” (p. 485). In particular, “gay theology” or “queer theology” as expounded by James Adison excites the sociologist to no end (p. 485). Although, while discussing pre-1989 history, the gay activist always bristles at anti-Communism and conservatism and, instead, supports Marxism and revolution, Martel is happy that the new face of the liberation theology is no longer collectivist. The “dissidents” ditched Marx in favor of the post-modernists: Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida. Thus, the new brand of this “Catholic” revolution is finally individualistic as befits the requirements of Martel’s favorite dictatorship of pleasure.
Thus, now the liberation theology has embraced gay marriage, ordination of women, marriage of the clergy, including “gay marriage” of the priests, and other progressive pet causes. Further, liberation theologians embrace all the excluded and marginalized. And they make them “mainstream.” Some adherents to this particular creed go a step further: “Finally, because it is the key to the problem, it [the Church] must end the ‘celibacy of the priesthood’” (p. 343). That means that the clergy must be permitted to have sex with anyone and anything they wish: to save the Church, of course. This is surely an interesting way to resolve the vocation crisis, which Martel endorses. They believe they are unstoppable because of the support of such confidently heterosexual non-homophobes like Cardinals Reinhard Marx and Walter Kasper as well as, especially, Pope Francis. The Pontiff is “close to the poor, the excluded, prostitutes and migrants,” swoons the mantra spinner (p. 377). “Never has a Pope had so much empathy and, let’s say the word, fraternity, for homosexuals. It is a genuine Galilean revolution!” (p. 102). But even Francis does not always pass lefty muster because he was once caught referring to “ideology of gender” as “demonic” (p. 70).
Meanwhile, according to Martel, the traditionalist, no matter how charitable and loving, will never pass the muster because all they do is judge and hate. And most are hypocritical because they adhere to outdated notions of Catholicism. They should be at least severely marginalized or, better yet, eliminated altogether from Mother Church, the home of post-modernist liberation theology. That is the essence of the post-modern “ministry.” This is the kind of Church that cultural “Catholic” Martel can perhaps put up with, so long as it stays out of sight.
The new liberation theologians are allegedly the brightest side of the Church. They are the only true hope for the future. Nay, they are the future given the recent changes in the Vatican itself.
In this context, the villains of In the Closet of the Vatican are definitely Saint John Paul II (“control freak,” p. 89) and Benedict XVI. One complemented the other. They worked hand in glove. The German pope condemned gays, while suppressing his own homosexuality. The Polish pope spewed homophobia, while condoning sexual abuse in the Church. That means his teachings were orthodox, purely Augustinian. Thus, in 1979 he endorsed the American bishops stance “Homosexual activity, to be distinguished from homosexual tendencies, is morally evil” (p. 273).
Therefore an expert endorsed by “Global Network of Rainbow Catholics,” gay journalist Robert Carl Mickens, a former seminarian, complains: “He was a pope who had never known democracy, so he made all his decisions on his own, with his brilliant intuitions and his archaic Polish-Catholic prejudices, including prejudices about homosexuality” (p 273). Further, Karol Wojtyła “played a belated but decisive role in this spectacular hardening of the Church’s sexual morality” (p. 176).
According to Martel, the Polish Pope was “one of the most homophobic popes in the history of the Church” (p. 273). That made him evil of course: “John Paul II, a mystical pope whom witnesses described as a man of great vanity and a misogynist” (p. 247). Please note the hint. Throughout In the Closet of the Vatican, the author links misogyny with homosexuality. He restrains himself from invoking “the parish” in this case, though. But the parish winks happily. Everyone is gay, right? But some are bad homosexuals, conservative ones. The “dark side” of JP II was that he overlooked all the sexual scandals in the Church. Perhaps, Martel implies, he was too busy financing “Solidarity” against the Communists to pay attention to the pedophiles (p. 195-196). No wonder then that his pontificate created a system “where men were intoxicated by power and bad habits, without any opposing force to halt their deviations” (p. 356).
The followers and close collaborators of John Paul II and Benedict XVI emulated them in persecuting gays. The “villain” (quotation marks by Martel) of In the Closet of the Vatican is definitely Cardinal Angelo Sodano. He covered up cases of sexual abuse by priest all over the world. This allows the author to climb the high moral horse and thunder that Sodano was a bad homosexual because of his staunch anti-Communism and support for General Augusto Pinochet of Chile and his “gay entourage” (p. 225) and “real gay mafia” (p. 227). Presumably, by this logic, a good homosexual would have condemned Pinochet and blown the whistle on sexual abuse. What does one have to do with the other? One can argue that a good human being would crush both totalitarian Communism in the world and pedophilia in the Church. But apparently for Martel, human beings, including homosexuals, are good only when they are left wing.
Further, the author casts Cardinal Stanisław Dziwisz as the Rasputin of the Polish Pontiff. “It was Dziwisz who was in charge” at the Vatican (p. 211). Power and money hungry, he enabled some of the worst abuses, including by the ghoulish Marcial Maciel Delgallado. This is supposedly the norm in the Holy See and its dioceses globally. Now in retirement in Cracow, the Polish leftists nicknamed him “The Widow,” in mourning because of John Paul II’s passing (p. 198).
Fortunately, their reign of terror might be over because of the ascendancy of Pope Francis, a tentative hero of the book. The new Pontiff has concentrated on removing some of the restrictions, like encouraging gays and divorcees to receive communion. “Who am I to judge?” is all too often the Argentinian Pope’s default line on many challenges to Christian orthodoxy in contemporary world. Thus, Francis has brilliantly reversed the oppressive theory and practice of his predecessors as well as eliminated many of their partisans by early retirement or removal from Rome. The harshest condemnations fall on the head of Cardinal Raymond Leo Burke, arguably the greatest threat to the progressive project at the Vatican. But no one is beyond the author’s scathing psychoanalysis.
Of course, Martel coquettishly winks at us, it can be that both Cardinals Burke and Dziwisz are of “the parish.” As far as the former, whom the author never met, this opinion arose during his surreptitious perusal of the American clergyman’s closet. His ceremonial garb and the pomp and circumstance attendant, so appropriate in Europe’s last non-parliamentarian, traditionalist monarchy must be, of course, a sign of homosexuality. So is the Cardinal’s vow of chastity a dead gay giveaway (p. 181). But Burke’s kind of alleged homosexuality is inappropriate. It is closeted and it is homophobic. Martel hates the lot. As many parvenus, the author loathes tradition, and even condemns good manners as incongruent etiquette from another epoch (p. 171). After all, he is a nihilist, who profusely praises Friedrich Nietzsche and his successors.
By this method of sartorial recognition, according to the sociologist, every Swiss Guardsman at the Vatican must be gay. They march in an old fashioned stride, while resplendent in their Renaissance uniforms. And, indeed, homosexuality is rampant among the Guards, who serve, at their own pleasure or displeasure, as offerings at the Vatican’s meat market for the clergy. How does Martel know this? He has anonymous sources. And he interviewed others who extrapolate from ubiquitous insinuations and gossip. There were similar press reports and a few true scandals. That’s enough to claim that the Vatican is a more prodigious gay sex hotspot than San Francisco.
If gossip fails to suffice, the gay activist rolls out Rufmord: character assassination. Consistently, this weapon is trained against Pope Benedict XVI (p. 476-477). The Pontiff emeritus sinned, among other things, because Martel considers his personal assistant very attractive physically. Even a minor Vatican player can expect a similar treatment. For example, Father Lech Piechota found himself in Martel’s crosshairs because the priest refused to talk to him; he drives a fancy car; and he had served as an aide to Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone (p. 460-461). What does that signify? Gay sex undoubtedly.
Make no mistake. In the Closet of the Vatican is no scholarly work. The author failed even to define homosexuality persuasively. For example, he cannot make up his mind whether it is an inherent condition or a “choice of lifestyle” (p. 183)? If it is the latter, why does the sociologist get mad when the Church works to change it, including through “reparative therapies” (p. 354)?
Martel descends to his lowest perhaps when he condescends and patronizes the African Cardinal Robert Sarah, who preaches “total abstinence” (p. 331). Imagine that. “In 2015 he delivered a hysterical speech in which he denounced, as if he were still in his animist village, ‘the beast of Apocalypse’… ‘the ideology of gender,’ homosexual unions and the gay lobby” (p. 329-330). This smacks of racism. Again, the problem is Cardinal Sarah’s Augustinian orthodoxy. But for the sociologist, the prelate “comes close, whether consciously or not, to the most caricatured homophiles, who have sublimated or repressed their inclinations into asceticism or mysticism” (p. 331). Thus, chastity allegedly reflects a pathology of closeted homosexuality. Voila! Pop-psychoanalysis at the service of gay liberation.
Over and over, Martel’s methodology treads a predictable path: his anonymous sources spin a tale, more often than not, at his prompting. “A priest in the Curia, one of the best informed, gives me this analysis” and a story follows but not the name of the clergyman (p. 397). Or: “Together we managed over the years to identify ‘informers’ who were capable of helping us with each of the ‘major’ Roman seminaries. We now had contacts in about twelve of these pontifical establishments… Thanks to these ‘representatives’, we were able to approach over fifty gay seminarians in Rome and, by osmosis, dozens more in several other countries… This way, I was able to investigate the homosexual ‘problem’ at the heart of the Church: in the alma mater of the priests” (p. 398). Little wonder that the incestuous little gay milieu provided Martel with precisely what he thought he would find. This “methodology” continues throughout the book (see e.g., pp. 254-264).
After wallowing in the information from his anonymous or pseudonymous helpers, the author follows up with more sources, asking questions he believes he already knows the answers to. Now the sources no longer need to be anonymous. He simply approaches them to confirm his own preexisting prejudices. Whatever information the writer obtains he fits into his gay paradigm. And, voila!, the results are exactly as can be expected. According to this method, practically everyone at the Vatican turns out to be homosexual. And it looks like this is the case among the priesthood at large world over. Martel claims, by analogy, that this must surely be likewise with the nuns, but he admits that he has not researched the topic of lesbianism in the Vatican (p. 535). But why bother? Everyone is gay, or subconsciously so. Isn’t what gay ideologists have been preaching all along?
The pivot of the author’s inquiry is gossip. And Martel is unapologetic about it: “Some will say that I am being bold with my hypotheses; to tell the truth, I’m not nearly bold enough. It’s simply that I sometimes have to attribute to hearsay what could have been written as fact!” (p. 207). Don’t be shy. Go ahead, write it. He might just as well.
The sociologist further brags about yet another powerful methodological tool of his. It is his “gaydar.” He relies on it to sniff out homosexuals, just like anti-Semites and Jewish nationalists can allegedly spot hidden Jews. Thus, his “gaydar” tells Martel that homosexuals are everywhere in the Vatican and the Church at large. And the results, once again, are predictable — just like in his interviews.
How does that work? For example, several times Martel flatters himself that, during his work on In the Closet of the Vatican, a number of priests, including cardinals and archbishops, hit on him. The sociologist allegedly turned them down either directly or indirectly, through body language. An supposedly suggestive batting of an eye by a prince of the Church means, of course, the “parish.” So does soft walk, refined jewelry, or love of music, or that tell-all gay icon of St. Sebastian — a “veiled code” for the “parish” (p. 110).
Martel spots all this without fail. And if he does, those the author targets must be just like him. What they say, do, wear, admire, and listen to much be all a “veiled code.” Ergo, they are of “the parish.” Simple. N’est ce pas? However, what happened to the good old cigar being just a cigar?
The progressive journalist also specializes in “cruising.” He knows perfectly, for example, where to find male prostitutes in Rome and elsewhere. To investigate the seedy underworld, including the homosexual transgressions of priests, the author enjoys the help of Italy’s gay police association. Of course anonymously. And the author knows how to surf the internet to the same end: anything from the street-walking bottom feeders to high-class male escorts (pp. 125-152).
Martel never tires of reminding us that he is a refined connoisseur of art, music, jewelry, fashion, gay literature, techy gadgets, and fine dining. In addition to all the globalist and leftist clichés, there is more than a whiff of Gaelic snobbery of a new man, a peasant child from outside of Nantes, who believes to have achieved the summit of culture (and there is only one: French) because of his gay self-discovery. In a way, the author is a fabulous caricature of himself and his progressive European Union milieu. And so is his book.
On the face of it, In the Closet of the Vatican appears impressive. It has come out in eight languages, including English and Polish, and is scheduled to appear in at least five more. Its creator spoke to 350 clergymen, including twenty-eight who were “openly gay with me” at the Vatican alone (p. 19, 555). Many non-clergy gays and others chimed in as well. This resulted in a total of 1,500 of interviews in at least 50 countries. The gay activist took advantage of a team of 15 lawyers and over 80 research assistants. The research assistants were incestuously similar. The ones Martel obsesses most about are invariably gay and all of them are most certainly leftist, like the three Poles he mentions: even if he does not spell their names right (p. 202). All in all, In the Closet of the Vatican must be one of the most expensive books to put out ever. Some investment.
But when one peers beyond the façade of the beefed up “bibliography” and “sources” of the book, one finds huge gaps in the author’s methodology. First of all, it is all post-modernist. And post-modernism is predicated on the denial of the existence of absolute truth. The denial absurdly and illogically elevates the proposition that there is no truth to the status of the truth revealed. Martel is not bothered by it. But is he is not interested in the truth, what is he looking for at the Vatican? Are his fantasies about homosexuality just that? Fantasies? Enter Nietzsche, Foucalt, Derida, Freud, and others into the mix.
Claude Levi-Straus provides the model to study “indigenous tribes” because allegedly only anthropology can explain adequately the allegedly homosexual relationship between the “protectors” and “protected” within “the parish” of the Vatican. And, thus, according to this paradigm, it is clear why Cardinal Dziwisz sponsored Dino Boffo (p. 408). It is no surprise that the sociologist endorses the long-discredited Kinsey report, which falsely touted homosexuality as normal and universal, but failed to mention that the control group consisted of male prisoners, a detail Martel skips of course (p. 179).
Next, it seems that much, if not most research help for the book comes from what used to be referred to as the homosexual demimonde but now enjoys the status of mainstream minority all over the Western world. The bulk of the author’s anonymous informants, in particular the priests, also adhere to the homosexual orientation. And most of them remain anonymous, except for a handful of defrocked clergymen, who seem also to adhere to the gay orientation. But some must remain anonymous (or pseudonymous) because they continue to rely on the Church for their livelihood, for example working for Radio Vatican and so forth. According to one of such pseudonymous informants, a defrocked priest, “I’m so happy to have left and to be ‘out’! ‘Out’ of the Church and also publicly gay. Now I can breathe. It’s a daily battle to earn my living, to live, to reconstruct myself, but I’m free. I’M FREE [emphasis in the original]” (p. 378).
Both the open and the clandestine sources, as well as the author, come across as extremely gossipy and catty. How else should we view Martel’s informers referring to Cardinal George Pell as “Pell Pot” (p. 111)? Or to an anonymous prelate the author disapproves of as “a Gay Pride March all by himself” (p. 106)?
Outing an archbishop appears as everyone’s favorite sport, in particular if the prince of the Church happens to be a conservative. In the United States we used to call it the pornographer Larry Flynn’s system. Martel does cross check the information but primarily by confirming his prejudices with the like-minded. Predictably, an echo chamber ensues.
Martel proposes 14 rules to understand power, homosexuality, and hypocrisy in the Catholic Church. The most important rule is that the more a prelate defends traditional family and the more he invokes natural law, the more likely that he is homosexual. Of course, the author does not put it this way. Instead, he claims that “the most homophobic clergy are often the most enthusiastic practitioners” (p. 82). And he criticizes “the violent rejection of homosexuality outside of the Church; its extravagant endorsement within the holy see [sic]” (p. 169).
The author then deploys the rule indiscriminately. For example, about Cardinal Carlo Caffarra, “he was so vocal in his opposition to gay marriage that this obsession gives him away” (p. 113). Some methodology. And so it continues. About Paul VI’s alleged homosexuality there are “rumours,” Martel salivates, but initially stops short of endorsing them unequivocally for the Vatican dastardly withholds documents that the author is sure exist at the Secretariat of State. How does he know? An anonymous source there told him so (p. 174). But then the author obsessively returns to Paul VI’s sexual preferences and rules him gay. After all, it is written in Wikipedia (p. 185). Yet the origin of the tale is a French “militant homosexual,” who was a Fascist. So Martel is torn. Would a rumor by a gay Communist be more to his liking? If that is not to be had, how about Poland’s post-Trotskyite Gazeta Wyborcza, which repeated the gossip about the “homophilia” of the pope by the compromised seminarian molester archbishop Julian Paetz of Poznań (p. 188)? Finally, the sociologist has meted out the verdict after too many pages of exalted anguish: Maybe that Giovanni Battista Montini was not gay but plenty of people around him were (pp. 186-190).
The Church is corrupt because it is allegedly controlled by repressed homosexuals. Naturally, they learned how to relate to their homosexuality either by denying it, or suppressing it, or living it out secretly. So long as they protect the magisterium of the Church it is ok to bang guys on the side. In most cases their intellectual model stems from the great French Catholic thinker Jacques Maritain who was, of course, a closet homosexual (p. 162). He preached chastity as a way to deal with his own homosexuality. Hence, potentates of the Church, such as Joseph Ratzinger, internalized such lessons and tried to live it up to it, while attacking active homosexuality as unnatural. Others were not as strong as the “tragic” Ratzinger, and pursued homosexual joys in private, while thundering against the vice in public.
Martel does not seem to appreciate that, in theological terms, the Christians inherited the heterosexual preference from the ancient Hebrews. Hate the sin, stone the sinner the latter ordered (Book of Priests). Christian charity, as expressed by St. Augustin and St. Thomas Aquinas, modified the Old Testament admonition in congruence with the New Testament: Hate the sin, love the sinner. Homosexuality is in nature, so God made it. But it is not natural, for it defies the commandment to be fruitful and multiply. Homosexuality further fails to complement and complete the couple: physically, psychologically, spiritually, and emotionally. It is Adam and Eve, and not Adam and Steve.
The author of In the Closet of the Vatican would have none of this. Gay priest liberation or bust. Catholicism must jettison the odious, reactionary shackles of the past. It must dump strictures against post-modernity. It must embrace homosexuality, and everything else coming its way from the contemporary world. If it does not keep up, the Church will quickly become irrelevant. As it is, it already has become so, Martel tells us with glee. The churches are empty, in Western Europe in particular. Soon they will become irrelevant everywhere in the world.
Only the unenlightened primitives in Africa, including their prelates, stick to orthodoxy. And of course the same afflicts the irredeemable Poles, a target of much opprobrium by the author on the account of the stubborn Catholic persistence in Poland. Let us remember, Martel insists, following the nuggets of wisdom from his lefty and self-styled Buddhist informer Adam Szostkiewicz, that because of John Paul II’s charitable help for his homeland during martial law (1981-1989), “Catholics benefitted from a freedom unavailable to others: the Polish [Communist] authorities tolerated these activities” (p. 248). Never mind Catholics constituted over 95% of Poland’s population and there was not enough aid for most of them. Never mind the Church shared with all needy it could, including non-Catholics, in particular various leftist dissidents of Jewish origin. But Martel can only blubber about alleged “suitcases of money” that disadvantaged the non-Catholics (p. 249).
The Vatican did help the Poles in their anti-Communist struggle. And that was bad because? Oh, yes. Anti-Communism means conservatism and tradition and that is bad for the gay liberation project. Martel opposes people he brands as “obsessively anti-Communist” (p. 247). But the Poles were also obsessively “anti-Nazi”? Is that ok? Or would someone consider adding “obsessive” next to anti-Nazism as churlish?
What to make of this book? Well, I warn against taking it at its face value and adopting its methodology and conclusion. Conservatives realize that homosexuals are not the majority among priests, at least not yet. It is always a Bolshevik minority that appears the most powerful in times of chaos. However, because of the confusion wrought by Vatican II and the superseding insane race to bend the timeless message of Jesus Christ to the post-modern world, the Church has allowed ancient heresies to re-surface in Her very bosom.
The heresies are as old as the world. One of them reflects the shenanigans of the “lavender mafia.” That outfit fields currently plenty of “Uncle Teds” who parley their outward liberalism into temporal popularity among the reigning elite which shields their sexual shenanigans, including homosexuality and pedophilia. They infiltrated the Church and must be brought to heel; if they do not repent, they must be expelled. Once Francis is gone, let’s hope the succeeding Pontiff will make short shrift of such pathologies. However, the Church is also us, its children. It is up to us to prepare the field for the future Pontiff.
It is important to understand that Martel’s alleged expose of the ubiquity of homosexuality in the Catholic Church is a handy tool to undermine the Body of Christ. Thus, paradoxically, the sociologist quite clearly expects moral revulsion at the corruption of the Church and homophobia is his trigger. Thus, homophobia is the method is to destroy an institution that the gay community and its supporters consider homophobic. Further, the French sociologist pretends that pathology is the norm in the Church. But the Church is the norm. Pathology has insinuated itself into it. The remedy is not to remodel the Church in a progressive image by encouraging more pathology but to excise the pathology to be free of it.
What can we do? We can either pray or go on a crusade or both. I’ll take number three. Any volunteers?
— A Book Review Posted by David Archibald —