In World War II, there were Catholic priests and nuns who gave their lives to stand in solidarity with the Jewish people, such as St. Maximilien Kolbe and St. Edith Stein. Yet there were also wicked priests and bishops in the immediate aftermath of the war who were all-too-willing to assist Nazi war criminals escape to countries like Argentina and Chile. Such a schizophrenic response toward the Holocaust and its perpetrators partially motivated the move by participants of Vatican II—and Church theologians, lay evangelists, and hierarchy for decades thereafter—to give assurance-after-assurance to Jewish organizations that, as an institution, the Church would never fumble the ball again on Jewish persecution; instead, the next time someone came for the Jews, the Church would be ready. But fast forward 59 years to a world where “Palestinian” activists in the U.S. vandalize Jewish businesses and student protesters surround, kick, and bludgeon Jewish students, and it’s clear that far too many traditionalist and liberal Catholics among the laity and clergy have forgotten that promise. With this for context, I’ve taken some time to provide links for fellow Jews who are also fellow Catholics, who may need encouragement that the Church—or at least the Church Triumphant—will never be against them.

There’s a distinctly American quality of believing—or at least wanting to believe—that the best is yet to come. And as a result, there’s almost an instant dislike for the cynic. In fact, when we call someone a cynic, we don’t even think of its dictionary definition—“the belief that most people lack sincerity and operate out of self-interest”—(much less the philosophers of cynicism like Diogenes or Metrocles). When we call someone a cynic, we’re calling them bitter. A “content cynic” or “happy cynic”, most Americans would tell you, is an oxymoron. Cynics are grouchy. Cynics are not personable. Nobody likes a naysayer (a word, by the way, that originated in the American colonies in 1721). In American culture, if somebody tells you they have dreams, the only socially acceptable response is to validate them. You don’t ask questions and you certainly don’t suggest that somebody’s dream is a bad idea. We are a dream culture. We traffic in dreams. When Martin Luther King marched on Washington, his immortal words were “I have a dream.” And in a dream society, realism—especially if it leans toward the negative—is considered rude. Instead we are optimistic. We believe in anti-aging cream, fad diets, and New Year’s Resolutions. But worse, we still believe politicians and parties can be our saviors.

Yes, yes… I know that even a specific legal definition of pornography has vexed anti-porn campaigners in the past. But surely a nation which invented scotch tape and sent a guy to the moon can come up with a happy medium definition of “visual pornography” that allows us to watch Bridgerton but prevents us from watching Gag Me Harder Stepbrother 2.

After discussions with my wife and many long nights staying awake in conversation with good godly friends, I have made the decision to “cross the Tiber”.

If aliens exist and if they have evolved consciousness just as humans do, wouldn’t it make sense that the God of the universe would have something to do with them too? Wouldn’t He also be their Creator? Wouldn’t He know everything there is to know about their civilizations, the course of their history, the structure of their languages and customs? Embark with me upon a brief exercise of imagination…

To some extent conservatism’s association of managers, bosses, and executives with “hierarchy and order” has been influenced by America’s historically Puritan roots, which taught us to equate idleness and wealth with slothfulness and avarice, and thus by extension equate leisure time and prosperity with wrongdoing; this negatively predisposes us to view disgruntled workers who want more time and more money as being morally suspect.