As Pope Francis approaches death, millions of Catholics around the world put aside their differences with the man to pray for him. Some pray for what Catholics call a “happy death” free from mortal sin. Some pray for his return to health. Some pray for his conversion or repentance.
“It’s a sad thing to say but there should be no controversy whatsoever about people sincerely praying for the salvation of the pope’s soul,” said Frank Wright, a British Catholic journalist. “I see nothing but good intentions for that. I pray for the soul of the pope myself. It’s our duty.”
It might be a theological duty in Wright’s eyes. But is it a moral one?
As FrontPage Magazine has repeatedly reported, Francis is trying to turn the Catholic Church into a tool of globalist, materialist utopians at the expense of centuries of moral teaching, especially on homosexuality and abortion. In the process, Francis has used rhetorical duplicity to dupe well-meaning but naive Catholics while promoting his agenda.
Perhaps even worse, Francis and some of his episcopal appointments have demonstrated neither understanding about the consequences of their core policies nor compassion for their victims — such as those who have been prey for illegal migrants or clerical sex abusers, or Chinese Catholics who refuse to worship at the state-aligned churches the Vatican supports.
Does anybody pray for those victims and their families? Does anybody publicly advocate praying for them? Or is a pope so important that those victims and their families become anonymous?
Suppose Francis recovers to the point where he could resume his duties with minimal health problems. What is the likelihood he would fundamentally reverse course — which is what repentance actually means in Christian theology — and reject values and policies in which he energetically invested the fiber of his being?
And if he does repent, what would that repentance look like?
For one thing, Francis would have to cashier or excommunicate some of his closest advisors and episcopal appointments. Among them would be the Rev. James Martin, a papal communications advisor who uses social media to promote gender ideology, even subtly advocating transgender surgery for minors, and to dismiss biblical teaching against homosexuality.
Others would be Luxembourg Cardinal Jean-Claude Hollerich, another close advisor who publicly rejected biblical teaching on homosexuality. Joining Hollerich would be four members of the Vatican’s highest theological body, the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, who support same-sex relationships and gender ideology. One of them, Cardinal Victor Fernandez, the prefect, even wrote blatant erotica disguised as theology.
Another leading prelate, Archbishop Vincenzo Paglia, during his tenure as president of the Pontifical Council for the Family from 2012-2016, released a sex-education course for teens that one Catholic psychiatrist called “the most dangerous threat to Catholic youth that I have seen over the past 40 years.”
“As a professional who has treated both priest perpetrators and the victims of the abuse crisis in the Church,” Dr. Rick Fitzgibbons said, “what I found particularly troubling was that the pornographic images in this program are similar to those used by adult sexual predators of adolescents.”
In 2016, Francis promoted Paglia by making him the president of the Pontifical Academy for Life, founded by Pope John Paul II to fight abortion.
Francis’ rainbow platoon includes two of the United States’ most prominent prelates: Cardinal Robert McElroy, who becomes Washington D.C.’s new archbishop March 11, and Chicago Cardinal Blase Cupich. In 2023, McElroy as the archbishop of San Diego, demanded “radical inclusion ” of LGBTQ Catholics regardless of whether they were sexually active. In response, Bishop Thomas Paprocki of Springfield, Ill. called McElroy a heretic and demanded his removal from church office.
Cupich went even further. He supports same-sex couples adopting children.
Repentance also would mean Francis would have to hold bishops accountable for protecting or enabling clerical predators, or engaging in such abuse themselves. Among the bishops who concealed sexual abuse are two of Francis‘ most recent episcopal appointments: McElroy for Washington and Archbishop Edward Weisenburger for Detroit.
Francis himself prevented an artist, the Rev. Marko Rupnik, from being held fully accountable for sexually abusing nuns, and has yet to issue any punishment to Argentine Bishop Gustavo Oscar Zanchetta, who was convicted in 2022 of aggravated sexual assault against two seminarians.
Does this pope’s previous behavior suggest he would categorically abandon any of his questionable agenda or actions — including, in some areas, his deliberate inaction?
More importantly, how much do Catholics know about Francis’ duplicity and how outraged are they? Apparently, some who know are willing to exchange any legitimate anger for an empathy that combines sentimentality with a false sense of duty.
“We have to pray for him no matter what,” said Joe McClane, host of a Catholic radio program and one of Francis’ persistent critics. “We need to call out the wolves in sheep’s clothing and have the greatest charity in our hearts toward those same wolves.”
Another forthright critic — Bishop Joseph Strickland, whom Francis purged from his position in Tyler, Texas — agreed.
“Pope Francis needs our prayers,” Strickland said. “If Jorge Bergoglio was not the pope but an 88-year-old man that was in the hospital in serious condition, we should pray for him. If that 88-year-old man had promoted gay marriage and covered up a lot of corruption, if he was Grandpa, we would say, ‘We need to pray for Grandpa.’ If we hear of a man in his late 80s whom we know has committed terrible crimes, we should still pray for him.”
But an 88-year-old grandfather owns nothing near the kind of influence a pope does. Nor the kind of demand for absolute obedience. Nor the kind of theological responsibility Catholics believe comes from God.
Nevertheless, Strickland persisted.
“We should love our enemies and Pope Francis isn’t our enemy,” he said. “Hopefully, Pope Francis will recover.”
Catholics will cite Jesus’ plea from the cross to “forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.” But what about Judas? Did Jesus pray for Judas after that disciple left a meal to betray him? Did Jesus pray for the Pharisees, who not only refused to understand him but dedicated themselves to sabotaging him? Did Jesus pray for Herod, a tyrannical pervert? Did Jesus ask his disciples to intercede for any of them?
If the biblical record is accurate, no. Why not?
Because Judas was evil. The Pharisees were evil. Herod was evil. So is Francis.
No other word but “evil” can describe a man who not only would try to make homosexually acceptable in the church but even allow a male drag dancer to perform in front of children.
No other word but “evil” would describe a man who sacrifices the victims of clerical sex abuse on the altar of institutional protection, or the victims of migrant crime and Chinese Catholics on the altar of political influence.
No other word but “evil” would describe a man who values environmental sustainability and economic redistribution over anything having to do with God.
No other word but “evil” describes a man who ignores the plight of unborn children because he has an advisor who once wrote a book advocating abortion to limit world population growth.
No other word but “evil” would describe a man who uses desperate immigrants as a human shield to cultivate a non-Christian agenda and to protect his church’s financial interests.
How much support do people owe fundamentally evil men — especially when such support overshadows the legitimate needs of their victims?
That question extends beyond Francis, beyond Catholicism, beyond Christianity, beyond religion.
In any event, sanctimonious myopia makes a poor substitute for a moral compass that has been pulverized into billions of subatomic particles.
https://www.frontpagemag.com/should-good-people-pray-for-a-malicious-pope/
