30 January 2008

The Five-Minute Altar

Your brilliant and dedicated FSSP priests at work...

27 January 2008

Galette du Roi

In France, around the time of the Feast of the Epiphany, one sees patisseries filled with galettes du roi to celebrate the gifts brought by the three kings to the infant Jesus. Several weeks later, the patisserires have emptied of these pastries, except the handful sold at reduced prices. It consists of flaky pastry filled with frangipane, in which is hidden the little figurine (originally porcelaine, now plastic) of a king. The one who receives the piece with the figurine becomes "king" for the day and must offer the next galette. (A similar tradition is held in some of the southern states, including Louisiana, which associates the cake with Mardi Gras.) It has a mild, not oversweet flavor (this is one of the nice things about pastry here--it is sweet enough, and no more), and the pastry is light and flaky. It goes perfectly with a steaming cup of Assam.

500g flaky pastry dough
250g of frangipane cream
1 egg
Porcelaine figurine

Pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Whip the eggs in a bowl. Roll out half the dough into a flat square. Pour the frangipane into the center in the shape of a circle of about 1-2 cm thickness. Brush the egg on the surrounding dough. Place the figurine anywhere in the cream. Flatten the other half of the dough into a square, and place firmly over the mixture. Cut the dough in a circle around the frangipane and press the edges. Brush egg over the dough. You may make criss-cross designs into the dough with the edge of a knife. Place in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until the dough rises and turns golden brown.

Bon appétit!

25 January 2008

Stations of the Cross Replaced...with MDGs

The Episcopal Church’s charitable arm, Episcopal Relief and Development (ERD) has released a liturgy to encourage American Anglicans to focus their Lenten devotions upon the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs).

The liturgy “Stations of the MDGs” is “designed to be used during Lent in lieu of the traditional Stations of the Cross service."
So instead of meditating on the heart of the crucified Christ thrust through with a lance, we can think of ways to "create a global partnership for development"--whatever that means.

(snitched from the Llama Butchers)

23 January 2008

Classic Victor Borge

Musical Phonetic Punctuation

Hungarian Rhapsody #2 for Four Hands

Tarte Chèvre et Épinards

Goat cheese? Spinach? Pastry? What else is there to say?

Serves six

Flaky pastry dough
2 goat cheese logs chopped into 1 cm rolls
400g chopped spinach
4 eggs
(optional: grated Gruyère)

Pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Mix the eggs and grated Gruyère and pepper. Flatten the dough into a 9-inch pie pan. Cover the bottom with spinach. Pour egg mixture over the spinach, and arrange goat cheese on top. Bake for 30 minutes.

Warning: Not good for the figure.


The abortion rate is at its lowest since 1976.

Pro-lifers are decreasing in age, and increasing in number.

Dave Andrusko sums it up well:
Someday future generations of Americans will look back on us and wonder how and why such a rich and seemingly enlightened society, so blessed and endowed with the capacity to protect and enhance vulnerable human life, could have instead so aggressively promoted death to children and the exploitation of women by abortion both here and overseas.

They will note with keen sadness that some of our most prominent politicians and media icons often spoke of human or civil rights, while precluding virtually all protection to the most persecuted minority in the world today, unborn children.

21 January 2008

215th Anniversary of the Death of King Louis XVI

All over France, Masses are being held in honor of the martyred king.

Despite the distortions of Jacobinist history, King Louis XVI died like a saint, holding fast to his Catholic faith to the end, his faithful priest and confessor at his side, who cried out when the blade fell, Fils de St. Louis, montez aux Cieux! ("Son of St. Louis, ascend to Heaven!").

16 January 2008

While Americans ready for the annual March for Life in Washington, D.C., the French will have their own march just a couple of days earlier, on January 20th. It will commemmorate the thirty-third anniversary of the Loi Veil (Veil Law), named after politician Simone Veil, passed January 17, 1975 decriminalizing abortion in France. It complemented the Loi Neuwirth legalizing contraception. According to this Lifesite article, 6 million children have been aborted in France since passage of the law.

Five French bishops have shown their public support for the march:

Mgr Bagnard, of Bellez-Ars, Mgr Cattenoz, of Avignon, Mgr Centène, of Vannes, Mgr Rey, of Fréjus-Toulon, and Mgr Fort, of Orléans.

The March will start from the Place de la République in Paris at 2:30 p.m.

15 January 2008

Les Aumôniers de la Guillotine Part IV

Part I
Part II
Part III

My translation of Jacques Hérissay's essay continues below.

This first encounter passed so well that Richard no longer raises any objection to what she repeats: Fr. Magnin can thus see the queen again several times, hear her confession, even give her Holy Communion. Miss Fouché on her part continues her visits, bringing the detainee fruit, rye bread, some delicacies, and garments that will replace the coarse linens furnished by the Nation.

A few trusted royalists, notably Mrs. Quélen, mother of the future archbishop of Paris, have been placed in confidence, and charge the messenger to offer some dresses to Marie-Antoinette; they retract the offer only for fear of drawing attention to the commissioners who visit the cell each day. The Sisters of Charity of St. Roch, the superior, Sister Julie, and her assistant, Sister Jeanne, will only persaude the ex-sovereign to accept some elastic garters and warm stockings lined with silk--for, in the frightening cell, the cold, despite the season, is glacial.

The queen would be happy to benefit from these intermediaries in order to send some news to those dear to her, but she dares not write; if the letter were discovered, it would surely mean the death of the detainee... She finds, however, a little ebony case that had inadvertently escaped successive searches; this case enclosed a porcelaine teacup bordered with silver. One night, she entrusts it to Miss Fouché, saying to her, "If it is possible for you, give this last souvenir to Madame Royale, and if the unhappy times do not permit you to send it to my daughter, I give this cup to you; keep it in my memory."

At the beginning of September, an event takes place that appears to put an end to these consoling visits.

On September 3rd, a gentleman, Mr. de Rougeville, has been introduced to the queen by the municipal officer Michonis; in the course of the interview, he had negligently dropped a carnation at the heart of which was concealed a note giving vague indications of a possible escape. Marie-Antoinette had responded with some words traced with the point of a needle on a piece of paper.

The guard Gilbert, whom the poor woman thought could be trusted, betrayed her; the affair quickly took enormous proportions. The Committee on General Safety saw in it a serious plot. In place of arresting the unassailable de Rougeville, Michonis and Richard were arrested, a new jailer placed in the Conciergerie, surveillance tightened, and, on September 11th, the queen was transferred to another cell, more deeply hidden in the heart of the prison--a miniscule room, whose door was loaded with a perfected system of locks and bolts, and whose openings were nearly hermetically sealed, only leaving a barred basement window with wire netting.

When Miss Fouché and Fr. Magnin return hoping, as usual, to access the prisoner, they learn with despair of these changes... How then to continue these visits?

Thanks to God, the new concierge Brault, who previously occupied the same position in the Force, is hardly any worse than Richard; he is also known to Miss Fouché. She has scarcely to let him in on the secret to persuade him to close his eyes by the example of his predecessor... The secret meetings could thus resume without delay.

Thanks to Miss Fouché, the jailer let himself be moved in Marie-Antoinette's favor; as she shows him how much more humid is the new cell compared to the last, he runs to find in a corner of the attic a shabby old tapestry, and he nails it to the walls. When the commissioners see it and become angry, he responds, "Citizens, I swear I am acting in response to the prisoner... Outsiders, if they speak loudly enough, can get some words through to her and receive her responses; this coarse rug will hinder that."

It is thus that Miss Fouché conceives the project to procure for the queen the good fortune of attending Mass celebrated in her cell. After some halfhearted resistance, Brault consents. "Calm yourself," she says. "You needn't trouble yourself except to get us two little candles; we will take care of the rest."

The priests in this epoque were obliged to officiate anywhere on a moment's notice, reduced to using only those objects strictly necessary for worship; they possessed tiny chalices of silver or pewter that could be dismantled, thin missals, portable stone altars just large enough to hold the base of he sacred vessel; all were enclosed in a workbag and could easily be concealed in a pocket... Fr. Magnin takes care of these, and Miss Fouché will bring a chasuble of simple taffeta, some altar linens, the water, the wine, and two candles.

The queen is informed as well as the two guards who keep watch over her; these two, named Lamarche and Prud-homme, are known to be trustworthy--brave men who, because of duty and the necessity of the times, fill positions for which they are not trained, and who remain attached to a religion now forbidden: not only will they enclose themselves within her cell, they will also take part with joy in a ceremony they have been so long deprived of.

The Conciergerie thus sees on this night the unfurling of the most unexpected of spectacles, a spectacle that, if they could have suspected it, would have made foam with rage the Héberts, the Chaumettes, the Chabots, the Clootzes, the Momoros, these fools who believed they could forever abolish the beliefs of the past.

The little wooden table has been transformed into an altar, two trembling lights brighten the pale face of the priest, whose voice is going to call down Our Lord in the Host; behind, lost in shadow, Marie-Antoinette, Miss Fouché, and the two soldiers kneel, following, without misssing a single thing, the liturgical gestures and words; then, when the moment for communion comes, the queen, the first, approaches the Holy Table, then it is Miss Fouche's turn, and finally, very humbly, the guards receive their God.

Nothing is suspected; the cell's vaults will keep their secret, and, the ceremony now ended, when Fr. Magnin and his companion return to their lodgings, Marie-Antoinette, remaining alone with her guardians, will have the long hours to pray to Him Who will give her the strength to climb, to the end, her calvary.

Jacques Hérissay, Les Aumôniers de la Guillotine, Chapitre II, 1963

14 January 2008

Les Aumôniers de la Guillotine Part III

Part I
Part II

Queen Marie Antoinette in the Conciergerie: the Prayer Table, 1856-57, by Charles Muller

On tiptoe--for everyone seemed asleep in this immense building--she follows the concierge: doors open successively, a humid hallway is crossed, at the end of which a low door appears, loaded with locks and bolts.

It is there that the queen is enclosed.

She has certainly been informed, for she shows no surprise upon seeing this stranger coming near her at such an hour... Miss Fouché in her first moments is mute with emotion: Marie-Antoinette has retained all her majesty, despite her white hair, her hollow cheeks, her pale skin, and she appears as at ease here as at Versailles, in the surroundings of this small room where the walls of stone seep dismally, and where the only furnishings are a bed, an old armchair stuffed with straw, two chairs, a little table, and a washbasin; for hangings, one saw only the divider separating the unfortunate from her two guards.

In an instant, the visitor recovers her spirits. As simply as possible, she speaks of the motives that bring this French woman and this Christian here; she offers some food that she has brought, going so far as to propose to be the first to eat, in order to gain her trust. The queen, however, remains impassible, responds with nothing, refuses to accept what is given to her.

Only at the end, as the good young lady, before leaving, asks permission to return, a glacial response falls from the thin lips. "As you wish."

Outside, having exited the Conciergerie, Miss Fouché finds Fr. Magnin, who awaits her in an obscure corner of the cour de Mai. Together in the night, they quickly return to rue St. Merri.

Soon the attempt is renewed... This time again, only Miss Fouché is introduced to Marie-Antoinette. In the interval, she has reflected, has been touched by the visitor's tone, and has let go of her suspicions that had at first crossed her mind. Her welcome was less cool, almost friendly. Miss Fouché hazarded thus to propose a few things.

"Madame," she says, "the disposition of the mind is such that it is no longer permitted to conceive the least hope for you. Religion alone can offer you its last consolations, and it is to procure them for you that I've dared to present myself before you. If you accept what I propose, you can trust me to put you in touch with a Catholic non-juring priest. If Your Majesty deigns to answer me, I will neglect nothing in order to serve you."

The effect of these words is immediate: the queen throws herself into Miss Fouché's arms, embraces her, offers her gratitude... An apprehension, however, comes to her. "You know, then, a priest who has not sworn the oath?"

Reassured on this point, Marie-Antoinette only expresses her joy; it is understood that the next time, Fr. Magnin will come. It is even agreed that, if the ecclesiastic is displeasing to her, a simple sign would suffice, and he would leave.

The difficulty now is to get the priest inside... He is known to Richard, since he comes daily to the prison for his so-called commerce in old garments, but it is quite another thing to introduce him to her who was not allowed to see any strangers...

By force of insistence, certainly as well as by the help of clinking, flowing silver, Miss Fouché manages to persuade the worthy concierge. "Let Fr. Magnin present himself; he will be admitted."

Some days later, the thing is done: the queen will talk with the priest for an hour and a half... The discussion will end in tears "of happiness and of gratitude."

(To be continued)

Les Aumôniers de la Guillotine Part II

Part I


The old director of the little seminary in Autun, Fr. Magnin, about thirty years old, was refuged in Paris after having refused the oath, and had found asylum at the home of Miss Fouché, from Orléan of an excellent family, and who lived with her sister on the rue des Arcis, almost right across the way from the church of St. Merri--here in this old quarter where so much of the past survived, and was vanishing little by little under the demolitioning ax.

As pious as they were royalist, these saintly young women never ceased to devote themselves to these two causes dear to them and, at the peril of their lives, helped refractory priests and hunted aristocrats, hiding them, lodging them, helping them escape.

In order to exercise his ministry, Fr. Magnin had entirely transformed his personality; one only knew him now under the name of citizen Charles--a good patriot, seller of second-hand clothes who traveled the streets of the capital without fear of the police, buying and selling old garments; thus he could easily penetrate Christian homes where, impatiently awaited, he brought the sacraments; the Conciergerie had also opened its doors--without suspicion, if not with a certain complicity, letting him circulate under the pretext of practicing his commerce with the detainees. This circumstance would give Miss Fouché the idea of introducing the priest to Marie-Antoinette.

Like so many others, the pious girl was authorized at times to visit the prisoners, parents or friends, and she had connections to the concierge Richard, a brave guard who, despite his official duties, remained compassionate toward his prisoners, disposed to render them service and to alleviate their pain.

On this date, the regime of the houses of detention was not very severe, and for the queen alone they were ordered to take extra precautions, unseen up until then: day and night soldiers watched her, two never leaving her tightly locked cell, where the concierge alone, along with his wife, their servant Rosalie Lamorlière, and another woman charged specially with care of the prisoner were allowed access.

One day--likely in the second half of August--Miss Fouché, her visit ended, remains chatting with Richard. Abruptly, she asks the guard, "Would it be permitted me to visit the queen?"

An absolute "No" is the first response, but the lady persists.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" repeats Richard.

By the sound of his voice, however, the petitioner "believed this resistance was not definite," that by some means this "No" could easily become a "Yes"--and, playing the temptress, she presents to the man some pieces of gold brought for this purpose.

At the sight of them the guard's resolve weakens. In a very low voice, after ensuring no one can hear, he whispers, "Listen closely! Four guards are assigned to keep watch over the prisoner. Two of them are devils, the other two are good men. They take over at midnight. Come at 12:30 and we will see..."

Miss Fouché asks for no more. Radiant, she re-enters rue St. Merri and announces the great news to Fr. Magnin: "I am going to see the queen!"

At the hour said, the intrepid lady runs to her appointment; the priest accompanied her, as the nights in revolutionary Paris were unsafe, and frequent were the patrols that, without pity, stopped passersby.

Without disturbance, however, both arrive at the pont au Change, at the end of which, to the right, the towers of the Horloge, of César, of Argent and of Bonbec stand with their sinister silhouettes. By the rue de la Barillerie, they enter the Palais: Richard had kept his word; he opens the door of the jail and, silently and alone, Miss Fouché enters.

(To be continued)

13 January 2008

Les Aumôniers de la Guillotine Part I

One of my Christmas gifts was a compilation of essays by French Catholic authors, among them Jacques Hérissay, president of the association of French Catholic Writers, and honorary president of the International Committee of Catholic Writers. His essay, The Chaplains of the Guillotine, includes a chapter on Fr. Magnin, who had the distinct honor of hearing Marie-Antoinette's last confession before her end on the scaffold. I offer my translation of his essay below.

M. Magnin, Confessor to Marie-Antoinette.


Marie-Antoinette, deferred to the revolutionary tribunal, was taken to the Conciergerie August 2nd, 1793 at two in the morning; she had left at the Temple her children and Madame Elisabeth, whom she would not see again. From this moment her end was fixed, and there was no more illusion to be made: sooner or later she would submit to the same end as Louis XVI.

In these royalist surroundings, one knew the immense joy there had been for the king to have the assistance in his last moments of a non-juring priest [priest who had refused to swear the oath to the Constitution]. Now, one didn't dare dream of a comparable grace for the queen: only the juring priests could still show themselves--and how timidly!--the refractory priests, pursued, were constrained to an absolute retreat, risking death at each moment. Despite everything, certain priests awaited a miracle from Providence, even making novenas toward this end. No one doubted the miracle would be realized.

The queen had been enclosed in the old room of the Council, which, before her, had been occupied by Custine--a room on the ground floor, big enough, receiving its only light through a low window, almost at the level of the lady's courtyard.

On the next day of this incarceration, August 3rd, Mr. Emery [a non-juring priest working secretly to minister to souls in prison] is, in his turn, transferred to the Conciergerie, coming from Carmel; immediately he learns of the presence of Marie-Antoinette and does not delay in corresponding with her: if he does not find means to approach her, he succeeds at least in having a terse note sent:

Prepare to receive absolution; today, at midnight, I will be outside your door and will pronounce over you the sacramental words...

At the hour said, in effect, the priest was able to descend from his chamber, situated on the upper floor, to approach the queen's cell and, through the door, hear her sighing, speak some moments with her, and finally give her absolution--after which he left without disturbance.

This event, without doubt, seems strange, but the superior of St. Sulpice [seminary], whose word one must trust, himself later recounted the story of this ministry, and we will see from what remains what very great liberties he enjoyed in the jails where he had to spend his time.

No one outside, however, suspected that the sacrament of penance had been, so auspiciously, brought to the detainee in the interior of the prison. Some faithful and pious souls dreamed on their part of obtaining this comfort, and perhaps also that, more precious still, of the Holy Eucharist.

Onto the scene enter Miss Fouché and Father Magnin--two figures as one only finds in times of profound social chaos.

(To be continued)

(Tea at Trianon has a related post here.)

09 January 2008


Vos infirmités, vos fautes, tout ce qui vous trouble, c'est Lui, par ce contact continuel, qui veut vous en délivrer. N'a-t-il pas dit : << Je ne suis pas venu pour juger, mais pour sauver. >> Rien ne doit vous paraître un obstacle pour aller à Lui.

Your infirmities, your faults, all that troubles you, it is He, by continual contact, who wants to deliver you from them. Has He not said: "I have not come to judge, but to save." Nothing should seem to you an obstacle to coming to Him.

Nous sommes bien faibles, je dirais même nous ne sommes que misère, mais Il le sait bien, Il aime tant nous pardonner, nous relever, puis nous emporter en Lui, en sa pureté, en sa sainteté infinies.

We are very weak, I would even say we are only misery, but He knows this well; He loves so much to forgive us, to rebuild us, then to carry us with him, in His purity, in His infinite holiness.

Je pense que c'est parce que je suis si faible qui'Il m'a tant aimée, qui'Il m'a tant donné.

I think that it is because I am so weak that He loves me so much, that He gives me so much.

Même si tu Lui as fait de la peine, rappelle-toi qu'un abîme appelle un autre abîme et que l'abîme de ta misère attire l'abîme de sa miséricorde, oh!

Even if you have caused Him pain, remember that one abyss calls to another abyss, and that the abyss of misery attracts the abyss of His mercy.

--Bienheureuse Élisabeth de la Trinité

06 January 2008

Kenya in Chaos

(See update below)

From a recent e-mail:

Please pray for our friend, Jacinta, who lives as the sole caretaker of 23 orphaned children in the slum area of Kitale.... We had been trying to contact her since we heard about the situation in Kenya and she was finally able to call us tonight. It was one of the most difficult conversations I have ever had. She is alone in a small 2 bedroom home with 22 children who have not been able to leave the house for days because of the tensions in town. She was fri ghtened, alone and pleading for our help. I could hear the children's cries in the background. Jacinta is Kikuyu and knows that her tribe is under attack. She said that she has listened to gun shots near her home the entire day. The city is dangerous with mobs of roaming protesters who carry machetes, torches and clubs and are threatening Kikuyu people. She has limited food, no minutes on her cell phone (she used her last one to call us) and no one to call for help. She can't leave the house for fear of the roving mobs in town. She told me she is trying to stay away from the windows for fears of the 'bullets' that are flying.

From The Sunday Herald:
The past week has shattered Kenya's reputation as a country of peace and stability, where the press is free, democracy rules and Western tourists can holiday.

More than 300 people have been killed and at least 250,000 displaced as anger at Mwai Kibaki's disputed re-election has exploded into violence unknown on this scale in Kenya.
In Eldoret, in the west of the country, where about 30 people were massacred in a church last week, Kikuyus have had their houses burned down by gangs of Kalenjins, Luhyas and Luos. Neighbour is turning on neighbour. Families have split up, with Kikuyu wives leaving Kalenjin husbands for fear of what their neighbours would do.

At roadblocks set up on every route out of town, gangs of up to 1000 young Kalenjin men, armed with machetes and bows and arrows, demand to see identity cards. Those with Kikuyu names are dragged out of cars and trucks - some are killed, others manage to flee. Less than 300 yards up the road, police, mainly drawn from the Kalenjin, sit idly by. Tens of thousands have sought refuge in churches and cathedrals.

It has been easy to describe the violence as tribal because much of it has been. But the trigger was political - the feeling, shared by foreign observers, diplomats, even influential members of the Kikuyu business community, that Kibaki's people stole the election.

Separating tribe from politics in Kenya is not so simple. Politics here is unashamedly tribal; there is no left and right, no liberal and conservative. The manifestoes of the two main leaders hardly differ.
Kikuyus have dominated the economy and the political scene since Kenya won independence in 1963. Even during the time of Daniel arap Moi, who was a Kalenjin, Kikuyus still held many of the most influential posts. At the last election in 2002, the first truly democratic vote in Kenya, the two main candidates were both Kikuyu.

This latest election was the first time the old Kikuyu political guard had faced the very real threat of defeat; the first time Luos, one of Kenya's largest tribes but one marginalised since independence, believed they could claim power.
The Kenyan blogosphere, already one of Africa's most vibrant, has never been so necessary. Bloggers such as Mental Acrobatics, Thinkers Room and Kenyan Pundit provided vital up-to-date information about the situation across the country. Often their sources, particularly Kenyan Pundit's, were better than those of most journalists.
Kenya has struggled with its national identity since 1963. Tribal divisions have been expertly exploited by a succession of leaders. Cornelius Korir, the bishop of Eldoret, who is currently sheltering some 10,000 people in the grounds of his cathedral, said too many Kenyans identify themselves by their tribe first, their nation second.
Update:: By GOD's wisdom and HIS establishing contacts via Steve ******** and others, over the years, the children and Jacinta were escorted out and brought to a safe place with food and shelter and love!!

Grâce a Dieu!

03 January 2008

Mary Mediatrix of All Graces

Fr. Chad Ripperger, FSSP, professor of Dogmatic and Moral Theology at Our Lady of Guadalupe Seminary in Denton, Nebraska, teaches the essential role of Mary to our salvation. (It is available via Sensus Traditionis; the files are not free, but "penanceware", which means you are asked to offer up some form of penance for Fr. Ripperger's intentions each time you download or link to his talks.) I found this bit interesting:

Because God has willed it, the Blessed Virgin is all the more necessary for men to attain their final end. St. Louis tells us, "Consequently, we should not place devotion to her on the same level as devotion to other saints, as if it were merely something optional. Since all the grace which you receive comes from Our Lady, your salvation therefore ultimately depends on Her, and therefore you shall not enter Heaven without a devotion to Her, either developed in this life, or in the next life in Purgatory, when your dependence on her as mediatrix of all grace will have become absolutely clear.

Please note the additions to the blogroll

Père Laurent Demets, FSSP, a French priest serving in Arkansas, whose blog can be found at De Fide Catholica;

Rorate Caeli, a group blog on all things Catholic and traditionalist; and

Gesta Dei per Francos, whose description reads:
Si vous aimez la France, si vous n'avez pas oublié qu'elle n'est pas née en 1789 mais qu'elle est l'oeuvre de huit siècle de monarchie avec ses hauts et ses bas, si vous n'êtes pas de ceux qui crachent sur notre histoire, si vous êtes catholique respectueux du magistère de l'Eglise au lieu de prôner le mariage des prêtres, l'ordination des femmes, ou si vous n'êtes pas catholique mais simplement épris des valeurs élevées qui fondent une civilisation et un peuple alors soyez les bienvenus.
Translation: If you love France, if you haven't forgotten that she was not born in 1789 but that she is the work of eight centuries of monarchy with its highs and its lows, if you are not of those who spit on our history, if you are a Catholic respectful of the Magisterium of the Church instead of praising the marriage of priests, the ordination of women, or if you are not Catholic but simply infatuated with the exalted values that found a civilization and a people, then you are most welcome here.