There is a time to blog, and there is a time to refrain from blogging. The Bear is pretty sure that's in the Bible somewhere.
Once when the hapless Ralph Wiggums, a kid in the Simpsons, uttered one of his trademark stupid comments, and the teacher said, "The children are right to laugh at you."
At long last, the Catholic Church has reached its Ralph Wiggums moment.
The world's largest employer of homosexuals demands that we all value gay super powers the Church needs now more than ever.
Indeed, the children are right to laugh at the Church.
The Bear will resist the temptation to further ridicule. There's really not much more to say about this fiasco in the Bear's opinion. The Church's ability to communicate has become deranged since Pope Francis came on the scene.
Of course, it isn't about homosexuals. They are a minuscule percentage of the population, at least outside the Church. However, they are a minuscule percentage that has become the touchstone for social acceptability. What it is really about is the Church turning away from Christ to dance to the tune of the Prince of the World. It's that old pinch of incense in new form, and the sickly sweet smoke is billowing from the synod chambers.
Does this mean the Church is merely a human institution that follows worldly fashions, only one bad pope away from a crash-and-burn?
You see, this is the Bear's secret fear. This doesn't look like much of a rock, not very gates-of-Hell-won't-prevail. This looks like the floor of the Democratic national convention, although no one has actually -- yet -- booed God. This looks like all the other so-called Catholic institutions that can't wait to demonstrate their relevance, their tolerance, their godlessness. This looks like the Israelites of old whoring after those hip, fun-loving Canaanite gods.
In a word, the Church looks like a fake. Phoniness is becoming the Catholic rule, not the exception.
More precisely, it reminds us that the Church has looked like a fake since Vatican II struck with all its fury and wiped away centuries of truth and beauty. The cognitive dissonance is cranked up as far as it will go, and there is surely more to come.
The Bear thinks it is good to vent these fears. So now where do we go?
The Pope loves to talk about walking, even more than smelling. This is a time for sitting, like Job's friends: sitting, lest we keep on walking. We go nowhere and we formulate no answers. We wait, like Job, and we wait like the exiles of the prophet Jeremiah's time. Better times may come. Or they may not. May the Bear be found waiting in either case.
"And I am brought to nothing, and I knew not. I am become as a beast before thee: and I am always with thee."
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