Deny
Reality, Live in Anger
by
Thomas A. Droleskey
[Author's
note: This article was published in the printed pages of Christ
or Chaos in 2002. It is being published on this site at this time
in light of the questions that a lot of good, earnest Catholics have
been asking about why there has been such silence from Catholic bishops
and priests concerning the death penalty, which its nearing its cruel
completion, that was imposed upon Mrs. Theresa Marie Schindler-Schiavo
by Florida Judge George Greer under the terms of an unjust law on the
statute books in the State of Florida. The answer in large part is to
be found in the very nature of the liturgical revolution that has devastated
the vineyard of Our Lord's true Church and has thus produced bishops
and chancery factotums who have sought to screen out men from the priesthood
who might have an affinity for the Catholic "past" and thus
resist the force of the revolutionaries' hatred for all that is authentically
Catholic. My own experience in the pursuit of a priestly vocation complements
the experiences recounted by Michael Rose in his 2002 book, Goodbye,
Good Men. It is my hope that those who are new to this site as
a result of the Terri Schindler-Schiavo tragedy will come to understand
that the problems we face in the Church are not going away anytime soon.
Men have been recruited for the priesthood to be actively hostile to
Catholic Tradition and thus to the Deposit of Faith Our Lord has entrusted
to His true Church. As I was so engrossed in my college studies and
in the following of baseball in the late-1960s, I did not know the extent
of what was happening in the Church until I started to pursue a priestly
vocation. And what a revelation I experienced as I started that process
in 1974. One will find a reading of this article to serve as a nice
segue to a reading of the magnificent interview Father Paul Sretenovic
gave to me, the first part of which is being published on this site
at this time.]
Michael Rose's
Goodbye, Good Men became a runaway best seller in Catholic
circles in 2002. Mr. Rose’s book documented the nearly thirty-year
long effort on the part of many vocations directors for dioceses and
religious communities to systematically screen out candidates for the
priesthood who are deemed to be orthodox. Although the book shocked
many believing Catholics, Michael Rose did not break new ground with
his book. The facts he documented so well have been known for a very
long time, and many stories have run in The Wanderer and The
Remnant over the years about the difficulties men noted for their
orthodoxy have had when applying for studies leading to priestly ordination.
Mr. Rose performed a valuable service for the Church by putting together
the stories of various individuals in the context of the pattern of
discrimination against orthodox candidates for priestly studies that
has been known by anyone who has followed this situation closely.
Despite the fact that the information Rose amassed was really nothing
new, he and his great book came under attack three years ago not only
from the usual suspects (diocesan vocations directors, chancery apparatchiks,
seminary rectors, et al.), but also from “conservative”
Catholic outlets such as the National Catholic Register, published
by the Legionaries of Christ, and Crisis. Goodbye, Good
Men also came in from attack by Our Sunday Visitor, which
should surprise no one; its circulation depends largely on distribution
in diocesan parishes. What better way to curry favor with diocesan officials
(and thus keep those checks flowing to OSV headquarters in Huntingdon,
Indiana) than attempting to assert with a straight face that the problems
Rose mentioned either do not exist at all or have been exaggerated out
of all proper proportion.
A one-time close friend of mine told me in the Fall of 2000 that Michael
Rose was seeking to interview men who had had “problem vocations.”
This man told Mr. Rose to contact me, which he did while I was busy
lecturing throughout the country that Fall. I wanted to write up my
own experiences concerning the pursuit of a priestly vocation. Unfortunately,
the travels, undertaken to fulfill the terms of a grant that had been
extended to me, exhausted me too much and drained my health considerably.
I just could not write up the story that follows and keep up with the
production of Christ or Chaos, then a printed journal, while
doing all of the travel and lecturing. For whatever it is worth, therefore,
I offer below on this website a story, printed originally in Christ
or Chaos in the Fall of 2002 and updated slightly for present purposes,
that might have been included in Goodbye, Good Men had I done
what I should I have done in the Fall of 2000. I had to experience the
saga described below in order to see for myself crisis the Church in
her human elements faced as a result of the doctrinal and liturgical
revolutions of the past forty to fifty yerars--and to come to the realization
that it is the abandonment of Tradition that is responsible for a rejection
of the sacerdotal nature of the priesthood and of the nature of the
Mass as a propiatory sacrifice for sins.
An Education in the Postconciliar Crisis
No man has a right to be ordained to the priesthood. The priesthood
is bestowed upon a man at the moment of his priestly ordination as a
result of an unmerited, gratuitous gift given him by God through Holy
Mother Church. The right to call a man to orders belongs either to a
diocesan bishop or to the head of a religious community. No man can
be assured that his call to the priesthood is absolutely valid until
such time as he receives the formal call for orders from his bishop
or the head of his religious community (who assures the ordaining bishop
of a candidate’s fitness for orders). Thus, even a transitional
deacon may discover that he is not being called to orders only several
days before he thought he was going to be ordained to the priesthood.
Our Lord created a visible, hierarchical Church. Decisions concerning
the ordination of men to the priesthood belong to those who are the
Successors of the Apostles, namely, bishops.
Unfortunately, as many of us have demonstrated over the years, most
of today's bishops are not of one mind and one heart with Our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ as He has revealed Himself through Holy Mother
Church. Those who are deficient in one regard or another wind up inevitably
appointing people or like (or worse) mind to chancery offices, including
diocesan vocations offices (which are staffed in many instances by nuns
who hate men and who want to destroy the sacerdotal priesthood of Our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the Chief Priest and Victim of every
Mass). Those who are slothful in the exercise of their episcopal office
appoint individuals to key positions on the basis of recommendations
made by others, content to delegate to those individuals an almost carte
blanche responsibility in matters of decision-making concerning the
acceptance of men to study for the priesthood, to say nothing of the
retention of men in seminary if they wind up being accepted. In God’s
mysterious Providence, however, even these deficient and/or slothful
bishops have the canonical authority to call or to reject men for priestly
ordination. There is no recourse in civil courts.
Priestly ordination is neither a civil nor an ecclesiastical right.
Men who believe they have been rejected unjustly must persevere in their
pursuit of a priestly vocation until such time as they come to believe
all reasonable avenues have been exhausted and that God is indeed leading
them to a different state-in-life. Indeed, not every man who has encountered
difficulties in pursuing a vocation to the priesthood in the past thirty
years has been the victim of an ideological crusade against orthodox
candidates by vocations directors for dioceses and religious communities.
Although I encountered difficulties as a result of that ideological
crusade, it is clear to me now that I possess traits that would not
have made me an apt candidate for the reception of Holy Orders. My pursuit
of a priestly vocation, however, did educate me about what was going
on in the Church, and did acquaint me with a number of men who did get
ordained to the priesthood and who were, prior to my embrace of Tradition
without compromise, very receptive to my lecture programs over the years.
All in God’s Holy Providence. All to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
Although I was attracted to the priesthood as a young boy while attending
Saint Aloysius School in Great Neck, New York, from 1956-62, it would
not be until early 1974 that I came to believe that I might have a vocation
to study for the priesthood. I had just commenced my doctoral studies
in political science at the State University of New York at Albany,
knowing that I would be situated there for at least two years or so
before completing my degree. This gave me the opportunity, I thought
at the time, to start the process of investigating whether or not I
had a vocation to the priesthood. It was at that time that a man who
had received his B.A. and M.A. in four years, but who was so very clueless
about the state of the Church in the immediate aftermath of Vatican
II, got a real education about the crisis in the postconciliar Church.
I could write an entire book about the vagaries of the pursuit of what
I thought was a call from God to study for the priesthood. Obviously,
God had different things in mind for me. It took me a while to discern
His will and to respond to it, that process being made much more difficult
as a result of my own willfulness, pride, and the cumulative effect
of my sins on my soul. Nevertheless, I embarked upon my pursuit of a
priestly vocation as an earnest seeker of God’s will, one who
had, through no merits of his own, a good grasp of the Catholic doctrine
of the priesthood and its role in the administration of the graces won
for us by Our Lord on the wood of the Holy Cross to souls by means of
the sacraments. Was I ever in for a shock when I embarked on this pursuit!
After discussing the matter of a priestly vocation in the Spring of
1974 with a wonderful Carmelite priest who was stationed at Saint Joseph’s
Church in Troy, New York, a Father Mitchell NeJame (who died in February
of 1980 just ten years after he was ordained to the priesthood at the
age of 54), I decided to make inquiry in the local diocese where I found
myself, the Diocese of Albany. What did I know about the Diocese of
Albany except that I lived there? Sure, this was three years prior to
the installation of Howard Hubbard as the destroyer of the Faith there.
However, I just did not know how bad things were. I began to find out
when I met the touchy-feely vocations director, who thought my concept
of the priesthood as having been instituted by Our Lord for the administration
of the sacraments was very preconciliar and outdated. “You have
to update your theology, my friend,” he told me. This chap later
left the priesthood to get married, winding up with a job selling used
cars in Albany. As I told a group of seminarians during a lecture given
in the Philippines in the summer of 1991, “Instead of saying,
Hoc est enim Corpus Meum, this man now says, ‘Sold, for $2,000'.”
“Maybe things will be better back home on Long Island,”
I thought to myself, not knowing that things were far from perfect in
the diocese where I learned the faith so well in grammar school.
Thus, I made an appointment to visit with Father John Martin, then the
Director of Vocations for the Diocese of Rockville Centre. He outlined
the procedure I would have to follow, including a psychological evaluation
done by the late Dr. Leonard Krinsky, who was Jewish, in order to complete
an application for acceptance to the diocese. As I wanted to continue
with the pursuit of the doctorate, I canceled the appointment I had
made for such an evaluation in September of 1974, writing Father Martin
to say that I would keep the lines of communication open as I worked
on the doctorate.
Additionally, I kept fairly regular contact with Father Daniel Mulhauser,
then the vocations director for the New York Province of the Society
of Jesus. Although Father Edward Berbusse, a Jesuit who had taught for
years at Fordham and fought the secularization process there, told me
to be careful about the Society, I had a lot to learn about the problems
in the Jesuits. Part of that was learned when I went on a weekend of
recollection at the provincial novitiate located near LeMoyne College
in Syracuse, New York, in the Fall of 1974. The attitude of many of
the novices was shocking, especially as it related to the smoking of
marijuana and an openness to “dating.” Indeed, Father Mulhauser
told me in 1976 that I should consider “sowing some wild oats”
before entering religious life, though he second-guessed himself almost
immediately after saying that by telling me, “Well, I guess that
would be sinful, huh?” “Oh, boy,” I thought to myself,
“this is bad.”
The only voice of sanity (and sanctity) I encountered in 1974 was that
of the then Monsignor Austin Vaughn, then the rector of Saint Joseph’s
Seminary for the Archdiocese of New York in Dunwoodie, Yonkers. Monsignor
Vaughn’s kindness and solicitude were genuine. Things might have
been a lot different had I applied at that point to Saint Joseph’s.
Again, God wanted me to meet and marry Sharon Collins twenty-six and
one-half years later and then become the father of Lucy Mary Norma Droleskey.
I did not apply to the Archdiocese of New York for the same reason that
I did not keep the appointment with Dr. Krinsky: having come so far
so fast in my academic program at such a young age, I thought it would
be better to complete the doctorate.
After passing my comprehensive examinations on May 9, 1975, I went down
to visit my parents, who had relocated from Long Island to Texas in
early 1973. I returned to the Northeast in June of that year, deciding
to pay a courtesy call to Father John Martin at the Diocese of Rockville
Centre. A curt and abrupt man even on the best of days, Father Martin
just ripped into me for being a “coward,” as he saw it,
for backing out of the psychological evaluation. He continued to rip
into me until he could see tears well up in my eyes as a result of his
attacks on a man he did not know at all. When he saw that he had accomplished
his objective, he said, “Good. I wanted to see at what point you
would break. We have to be careful about who we let into seminary. There
are dioceses located within 200-300 miles of here that accept practicing
homosexuals. The only way we have to evaluate our candidates is the
psychological profile.” Although I thought it was good that he
wanted to keep homosexuals out of the priesthood, I was more than a
little taken aback by his approach.
Thunderstruck by the way in which he had conducted himself, I wrote
Father Martin a four page typewritten letter, explaining to him that
there were other ways for him to deal with candidates for the priesthood
than to subject them to verbal abuse to see at what point they would
“break.” I told him that his approach was not of Our Lord
and that it was most prideful of him, contrasting his approach with
the gentleness of the good Monsignor Vaughn. He wrote back to me saying
that my letter was full of “sneering innuendoes.” I wrote
back to him, saying that there were no innuendoes contained in my letter.
I had spelled out in no uncertain terms that he was not fit to be a
vocations director. I found out later that summer while doing research
for my dissertation that other young men had been treated by Father
Martin exactly as I had been treated.
Thus, I abandoned my pursuit of a vocation in the diocese where I had
lived from its creation in 1957 to my going off to Notre Dame for my
Master’s in January of 1973, concentrating on the doctorate and
on considering various religious communities. A very orthodox Jesuit
by the name of Father Thomas Egan, who was from Port Washington, New
York, originally, became my spiritual director while I was completing
my dissertation at SUNY Albany and also while I was teaching at Mohawk
Valley Community College in 1976-77. He was stationed at the North American
Martyrs Shrine in Auriesville, New York. In fact, I believe he was the
Shrine Director during the time I took spiritual direction from him.
He gave me a real education about the state of the Church, believe me.
After considering and discounting the Jesuits and the Vincentians (the
vocations director for the Eastern province gave me an article written
by a Father Walter Burghardt, S.J., that contended that Protestant “churches”
exist by the will of God precisely because they exist!), my old pastor
from Saint Aloysius Church in Great Neck, New York, Monsignor Henry
Reel, who died in 1987, told me that in March of 1979 that “things
had changed” in the Diocese of Rockville Centre. A new bishop,
John Raymond McGann, a protege of his, had appointed one of his former
curates, a Father Brendan Riordan, to be the vocations director for
the diocese. Father Martin had been shifted over to the permanent deacon
program. Monsignor Reel told me to consult with him, which I did after
moving from Illinois State University, where I taught between 1977 and
1979, to Allentown College of Saint Francis de Sales in May of 1979.
'
Father Riordan was very friendly, although he said my letter to Father
Martin of five years earlier had caused a few waves. He said that it
would most likely be the case that I would be ordained within two years
once I entered the seminary if I was accepted for study. The then incoming
rector, a Monsignor Denis Regan (who I found out later was a notorious
supporter of the heresy of the fundamental option, which contends that
one has to make a conscious, permanent decision to turn away from God
in order to be culpable for one’s sins, vitiating the teaching
that even venial sin of its nature is a turning away from God to please
self), concurred with that assessment when I met with him briefly in
Father Riordan’s office in May of 1979. The stage was thus set
for the psychological evaluation with Dr. Krinsky that I had canceled
five years before.
Dr. Krinsky was not the friendliest person one will ever meet. He can
be described as cold, clinical, almost antiseptic in his approach towards
his interviewees. He asked me why I wanted to be a priest. I told him
that I wanted to be a priest to celebrate the Holy Sacrifice of the
Mass, to hear confessions, to administer the other sacraments, and to
preach and teach the Faith to souls. That answer would come back to
haunt me. Other questions were simply silly, such as, “Who do
you love more, your father or your mother?” I responded, “I
love them both equally.” He actually frowned at that one. I had
to complete what is called the Minnesota Multiphasic Personnel Inventory
(MMPI) after that wonderfully warm personal interview with Dr. Krinsky.
Well, I received the results on June 22, 1979, in Father Riordan’s
office at 50 North Park Avenue in Rockville Centre, New York. Father
Riordan read the report to me, but would not let me have a copy of it
(one found its way to me in 1994). Dr. Krinsky wrote that my desire
to be a priest to celebrate Mass and administer the sacraments was “considered
to be preconciliar and self- centered.” My desire to teach and
to preach was also considered to be a sign of “self-centeredness.”
My desire to live a life of priestly penance and mortification was termed
“a source of possible masochism.” I was also said to have
“little or no sense of humor.” Dr. Krinsky’s report
concluded by saying that while I was “intelligent, creative, and
had the capacity for rich, interpersonal relationships,” I “lacked
the sufficient flexibility needed to adapt to the changing circumstances
of a postconciliar vocation.”'
Father Riordan explained to me that the definitive call to priestly
ordination comes when the “community” renders it applause
following the imposition of hands by the bishop and the concelebrating
priests. The priesthood is about community service just as much as it
is about the sacraments, he told me. It was clear that I did not understand
the meaning of the priesthood in the wake of Vatican II. He urged me
not to proceed with the application to the board of reviewers so as
to spare me a formal rejection. I thus withdrew the application at that
point.
However, I was really thrown for a loop. Although I had been a daily
communicant for a little over five years at that point, it has been
only in the previous year that I had developed the routine of the spending
time in prayer on a regular basis before the Blessed Sacrament. I accepted
God’s will as He had manifested it to me with respect to the Diocese
of Rockville Centre. However, I was truly shocked that candidates for
the priesthood would have to be subjected to evaluation by a Jewish
psychologist, a man who knew nothing about the Catholic priesthood other
than the paradigm given him about the priesthood by priests who had
revolutionary concepts about their own priesthood.
As I found out a few years later, a letter I sent to Wladyslaw Cardinal
Rubin, then the Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Oriental
Rites and a boyhood friend of a former professor of mine from Saint
John’s University, Dr. Tadeusz Cieplak, wound up in the hands
of the Papal delegate to the United States. Bishop McGann and Father
Riordan evidently had to answer inquiries from Rome about the matter.
And a colleague of mine from Illinois State University wrote to Father
Riordan to explain to him that Dr. Krinsky’s evaluation of me
was unjust and that the concept of the priesthood he was working with
was non-Catholic. My fate had been sealed, however, in the Diocese of
Rockville Centre.
My own fitness or lack thereof for priestly ordination is really irrelevant.
The Diocese of Rockville Centre had manifested a concept of the Catholic
priesthood that was, as my colleague from ISU had noted, decidedly non-Catholic.
Indeed, men noted for their orthodoxy had to walk a minefield while
attending Immaculate Conception Seminary in Lloyd Harbor, New York.
A man I met at Holy Apostles Seminary in 1983, Michael Scott, ordained
for the Diocese of Metuchen, New Jersey in 1987, was thrown out of Immaculate
Conception Seminary six months after my meeting with Father Riordan
because he was caught consuming fragments of a consecrated loaf of bread
that had fallen on the floor of the seminary chapel during the distribution
of Holy Communion. Presuming the validity of the matter and understanding
that each particle was the complete Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity
of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the then Mr. Scott wanted to consume
those fragments so that further sacrilege would not be done. He was
caught, accused of “Eucharistic scrupulosity” and thrown
out of the seminary. Father Scott, who worked closely with Mother Teresa’s
Missionaries of Charity in the South Bronx, was told by Mother herself
that he would have to do the same thing again if he encountered a similar
experience in the future.
The situation in Rockville Centre became so notorious in the 1980s that
parish priests who had been through the process in the 1970s or knew
how bad things had gotten advised any young man who sought their counsel
to seek admission elsewhere, including the Archdiocese of New York.
And though the Archdiocese was at first a little reluctant to slap a
neighboring diocese in the face, it was the case under the late John
Cardinal O’Connor that men from the Rockville Centre diocese were
permitted to apply directly to the archdiocesan seminary. One married
couple, Arnold and Marcia Pilsner, saw two of their sons leave Seaford,
New York, on Long Island to become priests for the Archdiocese of New
York (a third become a priest for a religious order). One man from Bellmore,
New York, who had been thrown into the wilderness by the Diocese of
Rockville Centre, Timothy Hirten, just kept persevering in his vocation
despite the advance of years and was ordained for the Diocese of Brooklyn
in 1993 when he was around the age of forty. There are more than a handful
of such other stories, although it is also the case that in more recent
years orthodox candidates have had less difficulty in the Diocese of
Rockville Centre than they once had.
I should have accepted the will of God for me as manifested in the decision
of the Diocese of Rockville Centre. College teaching is where I belonged,
though I did not accept that as God's definitive will for me at the
time. So, I continued to make inquiries, including one of the Bishop
of Springfield-Cape Girardeau, Missouri, in the Spring of 1980, one
Bishop Bernard F. Law. He actually telephoned me in June of that year
to commend me for an article I had written about Catholic education,
urging me to keep in contact with him through his vocations director,
which I did. Ultimately, though, it was Bishop Law’s belief that
my views were not “nuanced enough” to serve the needs of
a largely rural diocese. I made no formal application. However, Bishop
Law believed that I belonged in a “larger metropolitan area”
where my views could be more effectively challenged. That’s one
of the reasons he, as cardinal archbishop of Boston, did not find Father
Paul Shanley’s involvement in the creation of the North American
Man-Boy Love Association an insuperable problem. After all, nuance instructs
us not to rush to judgments on these matters, right?
Another inquiry concerned the Diocese of Providence, Rhode Island. A
priest, Father Arthur Meloche, who had conducted a parish mission in
Normal, Illinois, in September of 1978 thought it might be a good idea
for me to visit with Bishop Louis Gelineau, about whom I knew nothing.
So, I drove from the Lehigh Valley area, where I taught at Allentown
College of Saint Francis de Sales during the 1979-80 academic year,
to Providence in June of 1980 to visit with Bishop Gelineau and his
vocations director, a Father Halloran, who was nattily attired in a
powder blue pinstriped jacket over his clerical shirt. I spoke to both
Bishop Gelineau and Father Halloran very frankly about the way in which
dissent prevailed at Allentown College, and expressed my hope that liturgical
abuses would cease with the issuance of Dominicae Cenae by
Pope John Paul II and Inaestimabile Donum by the Sacred Congregation
for the Sacraments and Divine Worship.(I did not realize at the time
that the Novus Ordo Missae was the ultimate liturgical abuse!)
I also discussed the influence of homosexuals in the Church, something
that seemed to make Bishop Gelineau more than a little nervous. Not
surprisingly, I received a letter back from Father Halloran shortly
after my visit in which I was told that it was clear that I was “not
living in the spirit of Vatican II.” Indeed.
Additionally, I dropped by Saint Joseph’s Seminary to visit with
Monsignor William B. Smith, the noted moral theologian who was also
a columnist in the National Catholic Register. He had just
written a series of scathing articles concerning the push being made
at that time by the Bishops’ Committee for the Liturgy (BCL) for
Communion under both kinds. Entitled “Winegate,” the articles
were dripping with sarcasm. Thus, I thought it would be good to talk
with him frankly about my experiences with Rockville Centre and the
influence of theological relativism at Allentown College of Saint Francis
de Sales. He listened, but I learned later he formed a very negative
opinion of me that has not changed to this very day. Indeed, he told
people I know that my efforts to aid a pastor on Long Island in the
Spring of 1983, which wound up saving that man’s pastorate, were
“meddling” on my part in clerical matters. At the time,
though, he said that I should talk to the new rector of the Saint Joseph’s,
Monsignor Mescall, if I wanted to apply to the Archdiocese of New York.
I met with Monsignor Mescall in September of 1980, shortly after returning
to my beloved Long Island to teach at Nassau Community College. It was
not a good meeting. I was gushing with enthusiasm over the pontificate
of Pope John Paul II. Monsignor Mescall frowned, saying, “This
Pope is only a bullet away from death, you know.” That was just
a little shy of eight months before Mehmet Ali Agca put bullets in the
abdomen and wrist of Pope John Paul II. The point he was making, obviously,
was that popes come and go. Anyone, therefore, expecting the “conservatism”
of John Paul II to be long lasting would be in for a surprise. (The
truth is, of course, that the light of Tradition reveals the early expectations
of Pope John Paul II by one time “conservatives” such as
myself were entirely misplaced.) It was not a fruitful meeting.
It was about that time that my former pastor from Normal, Illinois,
Father John King, reminded me of something he had told me shortly after
I had been rejected in a de facto manner by the Diocese of Rockville
Centre: that Bishop Edward O’Rourke of Peoria, Illinois, would
most likely accept me in a heartbeat. I applied formally to the Diocese
of Peoria in the Fall of 1980, speaking to and having correspondence
with Father John Myers, the Chancellor and Vocations Director, now Archbishop
John Myers, the Archbishop of Newark, New Jersey, who became Bishop
O’Rourke’s successor in 1988. Upon the advice of Father
Meloche, the priest who had conducted a parish mission at Father King’s
parish in Normal in September of 1978, I did not inform the Diocese
of Peoria that I had applied to the Diocese of Rockville Centre. Father
Meloche saidt said, perhaps Jesuitically, that a formal application
involved an ultimate decision rendered in writing by the diocese. As
I withdrew the application, I could say truthfully that I had never
applied. I took his advice, and then stewed in doubt for about a year
as to the validity of my acceptance by the Diocese of Peoria.
That doubt was most self-serving, as I was very torn between staying
put at Nassau Community College and taking a leave of absence to study
for the Diocese of Peoria at Mount Saint Mary’s Seminary in Emmitsburg,
Maryland. I was very much of a divided mind, not a sign, obviously,
of a man who has committed himself to pursue a priestly vocation. However,
as noted earlier, I was meant to be at Mount Saint Mary’s in the
Fall of 1981 in order to meet many men who would themselves become priests
and invite me into their parishes to speak. Additionally, I learned
the horror stories of men who had bounced about quite a bit in their
search for a diocese to sponsor them for priestly ordination.
It was while at Mount Saint Mary’s from late-August to early-December
of 1981 that I found out that there were more than a handful of bishops
who were aware that men were being unjustly denied entrance to seminary
study because of their orthodoxy. Bishop Thomas Welch of Arlington,
Virginia, was most hospitable to men from other parts of the nation,
as was Bishop Justin Driscoll of the Diocese of Fargo, North Dakota,
and Bishop Glennon Flavin of the Diocese of Lincoln, Nebraska. Bishop
Joseph V. Sullivan of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, was also very receptive
to what were termed “problem vocations.”
Mount Saint Mary’s was in a period of transition when I was there.
Some of the professors, such as the late Father Thomas Byrd, were very
angry that the freshman class entering in 1981 appeared to me “more
conservative” than those in the past. “These are dark days
for the Church,” he would say aloud as he walked through the halls
watching seminarians finger their Rosary beads. Upperclassmen called
those who spent time before the Blessed Sacrament in prayer as DOTS
(daughters of Trent) or “cookie worshipers.” There were
more than a handful of effeminate, if not openly homosexual, men at
the Mount in the Fall of 1981. It was not the “Pink Palace,”
a moniker reserved for Saint Mary’s Seminary in Baltimore, Maryland.
However, at least one seminarian from that entering class in 1981, left
the priesthood to live with his partner in perversity after ordination.
And after I had made my decision to return to teaching late in the Fall
1981 Semester, many of my classmates inveighed me to go to the rector,
Monsignor Richard McGuinness, to inform him that one of our fellows
openly supported abortion. That supporter of abortion was ordained in
1985 for a southern diocese.
I was not ready to be in seminary in 1981. When push came to shove,
however, the fact that I did not inform the Diocese of Peoria about
my application to the Diocese of Rockville Centre just ate and ate and
ate at me. Too, I was uncertain that I could make a permanent commitment
to live as a priest in the Midwest, and I did not want to do what a
number of seminarians at the Mount said at the time they were doing:
using one diocese to get ordained as a means of biding their time until
their own bishop died and they could go home once more. I had Father
Riordan forward Dr. Krinksy’s psychological evaluation to the
Diocese of Peoria. Father Myers wrote to me that while the report raised
some questions about my ability to live as a priest, certainly in the
Midwest, “it could not be read in a largely negative sense.”
Ultimately, my doubts persisted to the point of believing it would be
wrong to continue to accept the support of the Diocese of Peoria.
As it turned out, my mother was dying of stomach and esophogeal cancer
by the time I was at the Mount. We didn’t know it at the time,
but we knew that something was wrong with her. She was losing weight
rapidly and having difficulty swallowing food. My returning to teaching,
albeit at a Catholic high school in Queens until my year’s leave
of absence had expired at Nassau Community college, was indeed Providential.
I would have missed most of the Spring 1982 Semester if I had stayed
at the Mount. Nevertheless, I would return on many occasions in the
years afterward, regaling my classmates at the Pizza Hut in Emmitsburg
(to the consternation of seminary officials, who made sure that eyes
and ears were present several tables away to listen to our frolicking).
You would think that I would have sense to stop the pursuit of the vocation
then and there God was not through humbling me into accepting His will
once and for all. And He was not through introducing me to men, both
priests and seminarians, who would play important parts in my life.
It was evident when I returned to Nassau Community College in the Fall
of 1982 that my days there were numbered. The man who had been hired
to replace me when I was away during the 1981- 82 academic year was
able to stay on at NCC when I came back for the 1982-83 academic year
because the other full-time political scientist had taken a year’s
research leave. It became apparent that the members of the thoroughly
left-leaning History and Political Science Department wanted to find
some way to get me out of my tenure track position in order to have
their fellow traveler placed in my budgetary line. As it turned out,
the fellow who replaced me had a disturbed wife (who later wound up
killing herself by stabbing herself over three hundred times) and a
severely retarded daughter. He needed that budgetary line more than
I did. Thus, I decided to relinquish my budgetary line effective at
the end of the 1982-83 academic year. Although my decision placed me
in temporal limbo, it did permit me the opportunity to catechize my
students even more directly than I had been doing, much to the consternation
of the leftists (who knew they could not do a thing to me; I had taken
away the only carrot they had to use against me: retention). Indeed,
I gave a valedictory address to all of my students on May 17, 1983,
in which I gave an apologia for the Holy Faith. One student from a Jewish-Quaker
background was received into the Faith by a priest at Our Lady of Lourdes
Church in Massapequa Park, New York, on June 20, 1986.
With no place to pitch my tent for the 1983-84 academic year, several
priest friends urged me to continue my pursuit of a priestly vocation.
I had met with Bishop Joseph V. Sullivan of Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
in August of 1982, just a month before his sudden death. Bishop Sullivan
had given a home to several men from outside of his diocese, knowing
full well that qualified, sensible candidates for the priesthood were
being discriminated against in one diocese against another as a result
of their orthodoxy. His Chancellor and Vocations Director, Monsignor
Robert Bergreen, was very supportive of my interest in the Diocese of
Baton Rouge, and he encouraged me to apply to the diocese after Bishop
Stanley Ott had been appointment to replace Bishop Sullivan. I met with
Bishop Ott in February of 1983 (after being given an earful about the
new bishop by Monsignor Cage Gordon, now deceased, who was then the
Vicar General of the diocese). He was noncommittal, saying that he had
his doubts as to whether a personal with a background in college education
could fit in well in Louisiana pastoral life. “I’ll just
have to see where the Holy Spirit is leading me as you get closer to
ordination.” As I knew that Bishop Ott froze out a transitional
deacon who was awaiting ordination to the priesthood at the time of
Bishop Sullivan’s death, I was not inclined to accept a conditional
acceptance and then be out in the cold with no funds and no place to
live.
Father John A. Hardon, though, who helped to place many men who had
been screened out of their home dioceses find a bishop to sponsor them,
mentioned the President of the Blue Army, Bishop Jerome Hastrich of
Gallup, New Mexico. Bishop Hastrich was a kind man. He understood that
men were being persecuted because of their orthodoxy when applying for
priestly studies. It was his policy to require any man he ordained to
the priesthood to spend five years on an Indian “hogan”
before giving him his freedom to seek incardination elsewhere, if he
wanted to do so. I met with Bishop Hastrich in Detroit, Michigan, during
a conference in July of 1983. He was very positive concerning my application,
and not at all distressed by the fact that I had helped to save the
pastorate of Father Robert Mason at Our Lady of Lourdes Church in Massapequa
Park by writing to Silvio Cardinal Oddi, then the Prefect of the Sacred
Congregation for the Clergy, to document the way in which Rockville
Centre Bishop John R. McGann was persecuting priests devoted to the
entire Deposit of Faith. However, the assistance I rendered to Father
Mason ultimately played a pivotal role in blocking my acceptance by
seminaries and dioceses in the years ahead.
Bishop Hastrich accepted me. It was his intention to send me to study
at Saint Joseph’s Seminary in Yonkers. Monsignor Connors, who
had succeeded Monsignor Mescall as the seminary’s rectory, sent
me a letter indicating I had been accepted to study at St. Joseph’s,
although I had filled out no formal application. Thus, I sold most of
my belongings and made arrangements to vacate the apartment in East
Norwich, Long Island, where I had lived from the time I left Mount Saint
Mary’s in December of 1981 until that time, August of 1983. The
roof caved in shortly after I received Monsignor Connors’s initial
letter.
I received a second letter from Monsignor Connors, telling me that he
did not realize that I “had applied to and been rejected”
by Saint Joseph’s Seminary in the past. I could therefore not
be accepted as a seminarian for the Fall 1983 Semester. Absolutely shocked,
I telephoned Monsignor Smith, who I did not realize at the time was
instrumental in denying me admission. He said that an application need
not be made in writing to be considered formal, noting that I had spoken
to him and to two of the rectors (Monsignors Mescall and Connors) in
recent years. Bishop Hastrich believed at first that I had misled him,
although I assured him that I had never even filled out any application
form for Saint Joseph’s Seminary, something that Monsignor Connors
himself ultimately acknowledged in a written response to an inquiry
made by Bishop Hastrich. As I found out a few months later when a document
was leaked to me, it was Monsignor Smith, who denounced me in the most
scathing terms for “meddling in clerical matters,” who had
convinced Monsignor Connors not to accept me. Cardinal Oddi thanked
me for having helped Father Mason. Monsignor Smith, who never once spoke
to me directly about his antipathy, condemned me.
Bishop Hastrich said that it would be best for me to try to go to Holy
Apostles Seminary in Cromwell, Connecticut, to establish myself there
for a year before he could make a decision about my future in the Diocese
of Gallup. Although I had learned about Holy Apostles when I was at
Mount Saint Mary’s, I had never been to the seminary that specialized
in “second career vocations” until August 8, 1983.
As a counterpoint to the many dioceses and religious communities that
screened out candidates noted for their orthodoxy, Holy Apostles, in
order to keep itself afloat financially, took in almost any man who
applied. As the aforementioned Michael Scott told me a few months later
after he had gotten to know me at Holy Apostles, “I said to myself
when I met you, ‘If they accept this man, they’ll take anybody
in here.’” There was almost no discrimination present in
the acceptance process at Holy Apostles at the time. Indeed, there were
more than a handful of men who spent an entire four years in the theologate
without ever getting sponsorship from a bishop or a religious community.
Desperate to keep their doors open, the seminary took in anybody who
had money to pay the room, board and tuition (which was around $5,000)
a year or who could sign their name to a student loan form to pay the
freight.
Again, this story is not about my own fitness for orders. What I am
trying to illustrate is my own pursuit of a priestly vocation in the
context of the situation that developed following Vatican II. And while
things were indeed terrible in one diocese after another, Holy Apostles
actually exploited the situation of men who, for one reason or another,
stood next to no chance of obtaining sponsorship from a diocese or a
religious community. I perhaps fell into that category myself, given
what I had done to help Father Mason earlier in 1983–and given
my own personality weaknesses. However, Holy Apostles accepted a man
in his seventies who had signs of Alzheimer’s disease. Another
man was accepted even though he suffered from a bit of simple senility
in his seventies, evidenced by his driving on the wrong side of an interstate
highway for about a hundred miles before he realized something was amiss.
To be sure, Holy Apostles did afford some very qualified men the opportunity
to get ordained for the priesthood. Father John Trigilio, whose own
story is recounted somewhat in Goodbye, Good Men, was at Holy
Apostles for a year before he was accepted for the Diocese of Harrisburg,
Pennsylvania, completing his seminary studies at Mary Immaculate Seminary
in Northampton, Pennsylvania. Father David Taurasi, who had been rejected
by his home archdiocese, the Archdiocese of Boston, earlier in 1983
(David told me at the time that only three men were accepted for priestly
study by Boston in 1983 out of 303 applicants! Tell me, please, there
was no screening out of orthodox men!), was ordained for the Diocese
of Corpus Christi, Texas. Fathers Michael Scott and Anthony Mary Dandry
were ordained for the Diocese of Metuchen, New Jersey. Many other men,
who would never have stood a chance for priestly ordination, were also
ordained.
However, there were more than a few clunkers who got through Holy Apostles.
One priest, who was ordained for a southern diocese, was a devotee of
hard core pornography. Another priest believed in the heresy that the
accidents of bread and wine in the Eucharist actually become the matter
of flesh and blood. This fellow also went on the public record in favor
of the shooting down of baby- killers. There was yet a third priest
ordained after priestly study at Holy Apostles who was taken out of
his rectory in the Midwest in a strait jacket shortly after ordination.
It was incidents such as these that earned Holy Apostles such nicknames
as “Holy Old Fossils Seminary,” “Chock Full of Nuts
Seminary,” and “Dr. Moreau’s Island of Lost Vocations.”
For me, though, the one year I spent at Holy Apostles gave me the opportunity
to meet Father John Joseph Sullivan, the subject of the “Jackie
Boy” piece I included in the late-November/mid- December 2000
issue of Christ or Chaos (and to re-published on this site
soon). Father Sullivan was a masterful teaching of dogmatic theology,
having been trained at Saint Bernard’s Seminary in Rochester,
New York, in the late-1930s prior to his ordination to the priesthood
on May 22, 1941. A giant of a man who knew the Faith intellectually
and defended it with both his brains and his fists, Father Sullivan
became a dear friend, a man who would help so many of my former students
in the ensuing years. I brought him down to give retreats and talks
on Long Island as late as 1992 before his health began to deteriorate
and he could no longer travel as much as he had in the past. Father
Sullivan alone was worth the price of admission. I also had the opportunity
to get to know Father Vincent Miceli better than I had. What a tremendous
intellect and fighter for the Faith–and for our living liturgical
tradition.
However, there were priests who belonged to the Missionary Society of
the Holy Apostles, which ran the seminary at the time, who were a bit
contemptuous of Catholic doctrine and tradition.
One of these,
Father Patrick Boyhan, tried to discourage the practice of exposing
the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance for adoration by the seminary
community on Thursday evenings. He wrote an intellectually dishonest
monograph, which he sent to every seminarian, to attempt to “prove”
that Eucharistic piety was no longer the mind of the Church. He changed
two paragraphs found in Inaestimable Donum, took them entirely
out of context, and then attributed them to the Holy Father. As I was,
for better or for worse, familiar with the conciliar and postconciliar
documents (believing at the time that all we needed was enforcement
of the “proper” Vatican II intent), I went to town on Father
Boyhan’s intellectual dishonesty, writing a seven page treatise
that destroyed his every premise. Father Boyhan admitted he had done
what I had charged him with, though he vowed to exact revenge quite
publicly when he met with students to discuss the matter early that
Fall 1983 Semester (which revenge was made manifest in the Spring of
1984).
My decision to go to Holy Apostles meant that I, again, had no place
to live when the seminary was not in session, as had been the case when
I left Oyster Bay in the summer of 1981 to go to Mount Saint Mary’s.
Unlike my earlier experience, however, I had no safety net to fall back
on in case things came a cropper at Holy Apostles. Although I was adjuncting
at Saint John’s University in Queens on Saturdays in the graduate
program of the Department of Government and Politics (making $88 twice
a month), I was at the mercy of friends for places to stay on the weekends
and during the semester breaks. However, my decision to go to Holy Apostles
resulted in a series of financial catastrophes that would snowball and
not be fully resolved until July of 2001. No job, no home, no means
to support myself. I simply trusted that I would get sponsorship and
that the student loan I had taken out would be, as Father Frank Fajella,
then the vocations director for the seminary, told me, paid by the diocese
of religious community “that picked me up.”
Well, although I did very well in my studies and was able to complete
all of my moral theology courses by means of challenge examinations
(examinations designed to prove my knowledge of the subject matter independent
of actual course work), I was too much of a marked man by the time I
was at Holy Apostles. Rejected by Corpus Christi, I was conditionally
accepted by the Diocese of Charlotte, North Carolina. I found the conditions,
though, to be less than propitious. And, not surprisingly, I was voted
out of Holy Apostles by the faculty in May of 1984 as a direct result
of what had happened during the Fall of 1983 concerning Eucharistic
adoration. An effort spear-headed by the rector, Father Leo Ovian, and
Father William Heidt (aided by Fathers Miceli and Sullivan) resulted
in a compromise: I would be allowed to return in the Fall of 1984 I
agreed to receive psychological counseling as to why I had acted the
way I did during the Fall of 1983. Those who were in my corner said
that they had done the best they could have under the circumstances.
I did not discount the possibility of returning. However, I had determined
in the Spring of 1984 that I would only return if had secured sponsorship
for my continued studies at Holy Apostles. I did not want to be $10,000
in debt after two years of study and without sponsorship. My return
to Holy Apostles all depended on whether the Diocese of Metuchen, New
Jersey, would accept me. Things looked positive. The psychological report
for the Diocese was positive. My interviews with the lay members of
the “vocations discernment process” went fairly well. Alas,
I shot myself in the foot when my loud, sonorous voice was booming out
the news of my pending acceptance by Metuchen in early July (or thereabouts)
of 1984 after attending Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes in Massapequa Park,
New York, on a Sunday. To paraphrase Ralph Kramden, ‘I HAVE A
BIIIIIIG MOUTH!” I was overheard by parishioners who were most
unsympathetic to Father Mason–and very angry at me for helping
to save his pastorate. (A copy of the letter I wrote to Cardinal Oddi
was stolen from the purse of the woman was the high school religious
education director at OLL while she was attending Mass on Tuesday of
Holy Week in 1983, just days after Cardinal Oddi had intervened to help
Father Mason. The two priests who had been sent into the parish in June
of 1982 to foment trouble against Father Mason confronted him with the
letter moments after it had disappeared from Marion Harrington’s
purse. The purloined letter later wound up on Bishop McGann’s
desl. I kid you not, I am not making any of this up.) They wrote, as
I found out from Michael Scott, an “anonymous” letter to
Bishop Theodore McCarrick to urge my rejection by the Diocese of Metuchen.
And that letter did me in, although the vocations director, Monsignor
Anthony Gambino, who revealed this tidbit to Scott, also said of me,
“He’s crazier than a bedbug.”
Well, that was it. I decided that it would imprudent to return to Holy
Apostles. Instead, I tried to eke out a living by adjuncting three courses
in political science in the Fall 1984 and Spring 1985 Semesters at Saint
John’s University, making the grand sum of $254 twice a month.
A quite lengthy period of homelessness lasted between December of 1984
and August of 1985. There were more than a few nights when I had to
sleep in my car and shower in the gymnasium facilities at Saint John’s
University.
There were a few efforts after Holy Apostles to pursue a vocation to
the priesthood. I made inquiries of Monsignor John McCarthy, the founder
of the Oblates of Wisdom, in 1984 and 1985. However, all efforts to
raise funds for my incidental expenses and travel proved fruitless (and
I made lots and lots of inquiries). And the aforementioned Father Sullivan
urged me in December of 1990 to consider being ordained by a Filipino
bishop who wanted to establish chapels of Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration
around the world. I did look into it in August of 1991, but concluded
that Bishop Felix Zafra of Tagbiliran City was exercising poor judgment
by laying his hands on the heads of men who he did not know and had
no jurisdiction over for priestly orders. Indeed, several of the Americans
he ordained proved to be monumentally disastrous. When he failed to
heed the warning of the Papal Nuncio to the Philippines to stop his
unauthorized ordinations, the Holy Father removed Bishop Zafra in November
of 1991, several months after he ordained three American men to the
priesthood he had met some six weeks before. Part of this story was
written up in The Remnant in August of 2004.
Finally, acting upon the recommendation of Bishop James Sullivan of
Fargo, North Dakota, who I served physically in Fargo in 1988-89–and
continued to serve in a writing capacity until 1998, I applied to the
Diocese of Pensacola, Florida, in the Fall of 1992 while I was teaching
at Morningside College in Sioux City, Iowa. Alas, the Bishop McGann-Cardinal
Oddi-Father Mason incident was a determining factor there, along with
other factors.
Everything happens in God’s Providence. He writes straight with
crooked lines, and there are few lines more crooked than those found
within this writer. I got quite an education during the process of my
pursuit of what I thought might be a priestly vocation. As I was to
find out in April of 2001, however, I was called to the married state.
I was meant to be the father of Lucy Mary Norma Droleskey (and however
many other children God sees fit to send us) for all eternity, and to
be the husband of the former Sharon Collins until death does us part.
This is my state-in-life. It took me until nearly the age of fifty to
discern God’s will for me. Admittedly, as I noted at the beginning,
my own pride and willfulness and the cumulative effect of my sins made
this process of discernment infinitely more difficult. However, God
meant to humble me into submission. And God knew that I would come to
embrace our living liturgical tradition, something that would have caused
me a great many problems had I found myself ordained for the diocesan
priesthood.
What I did learn along the way, however, was that there has been and
continues to be a crisis in the Catholic Church in the United States
(and elsewhere) concerning the screening out of candidates for the priesthood
who are orthodox and the screening in of those who are “malleable”
(that is, open to “diverse” theological “opinions”)
and of those who are subtly effeminate, if not outright homosexuals.
My quest for a priestly vocation did help me in very large measure to
find my way, although admittedly in a very round about manner, to the
Immemorial Mass of Tradition.
If Michael Rose’s great work in Goodbye, Good Men does
not reflect the truth, then a number of good priests and bishops who
have helped men rejected in their own home dioceses all had to be wrong
over the years. In addition to the bishops I mentioned earlier in this
article, Bishops Charles Chaput (when he was Bishop of Rapid City),
James Sullivan of Fargo, Fabian Bruskewitz of Lincoln, Nebraska, Paul
Dudley of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Rene H. Gracida of Corpus Christi,
Texas, Walter Curtis of Bridgeport, Connecticut, each would have had
to have been living in a fantasy world if the problems documented by
Mr. Rose did not prompt them to accept men for priestly study who had
been persecuted time and again because of their orthodoxy. Indeed, even
Bishop Myers, when he was Bishop of Peoria was willing to accept men
being spirited to him for priestly study from a neighboring diocese
until the bishop of that neighboring diocese complained about the matter.
This has not deterred, however, a priest committed to fostering vocations
from taking men from that diocese elsewhere, including to traditional
communities.
As I came to learn much too late in my life, the postconciliar vocations
crisis is entirely the direct result of the doctrinal and liturgical
revolutions against the Holy Faith. Many ordained priests who have come
to recognize this themselves are now seeking out the fullness of Tradition.
The Society of Saint Pius X has received over 400 requests for an instructional
video on the Traditional Latin Mass from priests who have come to realize
that they must reject the Novus Ordo Missae and all of the
attendant errors and novelties engendered by conciliarism. I have used
several articles in The Remnant to plead with priests to abandon
the new Mass and to offer the faithful what is their absolute due, the
Traditional Latin Mass, which does not depend upon an “indult”
from any bishop, including the Pope, for its offering by a validly ordained
priest. The time to flee from the horror of the Novus Ordo Missae
is now. Not later. Now. I am gratified to learn that a few priests are
making inquiries of Fathers Patrick Perez and Father Lawrence Smith
of Our Lady Help of Christians Church in Garden Grove, California, and
Father Stephen P. Zigrang at Queen of Angels Church in Dickinson, Texas.
If one denies reality, one will live in angry denial. This is evidently
what has happened with the critics of Goodbye, Good Men. It
is those critics that were wrong, not Michael Rose and his Goodbye,
Good Men. Perhaps some other author will write the necessary follow-up
book, Goodbye, New Mass. There must be a total rejection of
the new Mass and the synthetic, syncretist faith it enshrines and propagates.
The Church is divinely founded. She will last until the end of time.
The jaws of Hell will never prevail against her. We are living at exactly
the moment God has known from all eternity that we would be alive. His
grace is sufficient for us to deal with the aftermath of the liturgical
and doctrinal revolutions that have devastated His vineyard that is
Holy Mother Church. By relying upon Our Lady–and making sacrifices
so that some Pope might actually honor her Fatima requests and actually
consecrate Russia to her Sorrowful and Immaculate Heart–and being
totally consecrated to her Immaculate Heart, we know that our efforts
to restore Tradition will bear fruit in an abundance of priestly vocations
for men to offer Mass that begins with a priest addressing God at the
foot of the altar and ends with the Gospel of the Incarnation.
Our Lady, Help of Christians, pray for us.
A Short
Bibliography for Recommended Reading About the Second Vatican Council
and the Novus Ordo Missae
As Father
Patrick Perez noted in his interview with me, published on this site
on March 4, 2005, and in the March issue of Catholic Family News,
the following works are most helpful to learn more about the Second
Vatican Council and the Novus Ordo Missae: Michael Davies'
3-volume work The Liturgical Revolution, The Rhine Flows
Into the Tiber, The Great Façade, We Resist
You to the Face, The Problems with the New Mass, The
Problems with the Orations of the New Mass, and Iota Unum.
I would also add Michael Davies' pamphlets on Dignitatis Humanae
(The Declaration on Religious Liberty) and Mass Facing the People,
Alfredo Cardinal Ottaviani's Critical Study of the Novus Ordo Missae,
Michael Davies' Liturgical Time Bombs in Vatican II, Father
Paul Kramer, ed., The Devil's Final Battle, Attila Guimarae's
In the Murky Waters of Vatican II, and my own G.I.R.M.
Warfare, which is about to enter its second edition. Also instructive
are: Michael Davies' three volume Apologia Pro Marcel Lefebvre and
Bishop Tissier's biography of Archbishop Lefebvre (each of which is
available from Angelus Press, Kansas City, Missouri). The Society of
Saint Pius X has marvelous apologetics materials to explain the State
of Emergency that justifies the late Archbishop Lefebvre's episcopal
consecrations of June, 1988. These can be examined at: www.sspx.org.
Finally, there are a number of articles on this site that deal with
the crisis we face in the Church.