As I have said and thought in the past, it would eventually get to the point where our shepherds, in order to do their basic duty and to avoid scandal, could resort to no further excuse for not doing one of two things, depending on whether they think the putative abdication of Benedict XVI effective:
1) Declare that Benedict XVI is still pope because his putative abdication was not valid;
2) Declare that Bergoglio has lost any claim to the papacy by pertinacious public heresy, deposed by Christ Himself, or the Church, or the College, or by the result of his own actions, whichever theory seems best to them.
Has that time now come? Pray God it hasn’t passed. I need not type the litany of reasons why. But how much outrageous treatment of the Mystical Body of Christ will we stand by and take before doing the necessary thing? Hello?
And he to me, as one who comprehends:
“Here one must leave behind all hesitation;
here every cowardice must meet its death.
For we have reached the place of which I spoke,
where you will see the miserable people,
those who have lost the good of the intellect.”
And when, with gladness in his face, he placed
his hand upon my own, to comfort me,
he drew me in among the hidden things.
Here sighs and lamentations and loud cries
were echoing across the starless air,
so that, as soon as I set out, I wept.
Strange utterances, horrible pronouncements,
accents of anger, words of suffering,
and voices shrill and faint, and beating hands—
all went to make a tumult that will whirl
forever through that turbid, timeless air,
like sand that eddies when a whirlwind swirls.
And I—my head oppressed by horror—said:
“Master, what is it that I hear? Who are
those people so defeated by their pain?”
And he to me: “This miserable way
is taken by the sorry souls of those
who lived without disgrace and without praise.
They now commingle with the coward angels,
the company of those who were not rebels
nor faithful to their God, but stood apart.
The heavens, that their beauty not be lessened,
have cast them out, nor will deep Hell receive them—
even the wicked cannot glory in them.”
And I: “What is it, master, that oppresses
these souls, compelling them to wail so loud?”
He answered: “I shall tell you in few words.
Those who are here can place no hope in death,
and their blind life is so abject that they
are envious of every other fate.
The world will let no fame of theirs endure;
both justice and compassion must disdain them;
let us not talk of them, but look and pass.”
Inferno, Canto III, Dante