The bishop of Gubbio’s message to the world

So, I’ve been away for a few days, visiting a Carthusianesque monastery waaaaaay far away from everything. But sort of vaguely in the vicinity of Gubbio, of St. Francis-and-the-wolf fame.

I *knew* I was going to find the world more annoying after three days in the monastery. I knew it. Why didn’t I think it would be this painful? Why am I so dumb?

So, Maurizio the super-duper-nice taxi driver comes to pick you up at the monastery to drive you back to Gubbio where you can get the bus back to Perugia. It’s a bit early so you have a bit of time to kill, two hours in fact. You don’t really have the energy or inclination for museums, so you think, “Hey, I’ve been praying for three days, why stop now? There are churches in this town, right? and it’s only 11 am, so they’re prolly open.”

Yeah… sort of…

You climb waaaaay up to the top of the town to find a quiet place to say your mid-day Office. The Cathedral, right? Sure, you think, the cathedral is prolly good. And it’s so far up the hill there aren’t going to be many tourists.

Yeah…

No.

This is what the diocese of Gubbio thinks is a good idea. The two big double doors open, so you can look in, down the nave, but blocked off with a railing, containing various tourist brochures and a request for a donation for the upkeep.

And each door on the sides with this sign.


It says, essentially,

“F__k off.”

(“If you try to open the door, an alarm will sound, so don’t even try, you worthless plebes.”)

How do I hate you, Modernia?

Oh, there are so many ways.

And, contra the logic, ALL of the reasons are the most heinous, the most revolting, the most depressing, the most disgraceful, the most offensive. All. of. them.

Modernia, do not I hate thee, who hate the Lord? And do I not loathe thee who rise up against Him? With a perfect hatred do I hate thee;

Thou has become mine enemy…

I related elsewhere the story of the local parish curate where I live. Nice enough guy, I guess. Speaks English because Indian. (Dot, not feather.) He welcomed me to the area and we chatted a bit. I noticed that there was, with four or five churches locally, no daily Mass at any of them, and then made the mistake of asking him where and when Confessions were scheduled:

“Oh, just call me.”

A bit taken aback, me.

“I have to make an appointment?” (With strongly implied exclamation points.)

“Well, just come to Mass a few minutes early…”

Yeah, thanks, but I think I’ll make other arrangements.

Either the Modernian Novusordoists want us to go to Hell, or, as has been said, they just don’t believe in any of this Catholic… err.. “stuff”.

Now, I deserve hell for my sins, that’s a given. But I’d sure like the opportunity to try not to, you know?

UPDATE: I went to the nearest bar (not the same as a bar in North America; in Italy a “bar” means a coffee shop where you can get a sandwich, but that also serves alcohol, and is an institution in Italy with a social role similar to the village pub in England) to get a soda and a sandwich to find a shady place to sit and kill the time.

I asked the friendly bar-guy: “When are the Masses at the cathedral? Is there a daily Mass?”

“No, no Masses are said at the Cathedral now. It’s being reconstructed.”

“Oh, was it damaged in the earthquakes?”

“Not really. Not so you’d notice.”

“So, reconstructed?”

“Oh, just to refurbish, you know. Modernize it.”

I decided to have a pint instead of a soda.

I hate everybody. And everything.

~

12 thoughts on “The bishop of Gubbio’s message to the world”

  1. Alan says:

    “Dot, not feather.” True, explanatory, not demeaning, and wonderfully politically incorrect!

    But “feather” is not likely to be found in Europe, and the distinction is increasingly necessary here in the western United States.

  2. Evangeline says:

    How I empathize! I might as well have been sitting right there as all this was going on! I bet we were all there in some metaphysical way, all of us standing there gaping or jaw set in frustration and some sadness…
    I accept it now. I’ve accepted it for about a month. It’s over, pretty much. Only divine intervention is going to save us now. The NO Church is dead, too many vampires. I have stopped expecting it to be any different, and I realize, I’m ruined, I can’t take the NO anymore. If you’re going to finish off the church, do it without us.

  3. philip johnson says:

    In response to Andrew when he says that 99%of ,so called, Catholics are not Catholic at all.I totally agree with that statement.The Conciliar Novus Ordo Church is a dying wreck-and long may it perish!Find a Traditional Catholic Church with sound Catholic sermons and STAY there.

  4. NidahoCatholic says:

    Why do Indian women have dots? It’s because of their husbands poking them in the forehead saying “Shut the (colorful Anglo-German word) up!

  5. James C says:

    You could have taken that crazy flying bucket up the mountain to St Ubaldo’s basilica. I did that when I had a bit of down time. As it’s an important shrine, I expect it’s ‘aperta non-stop’ as they say in Italy.

    But a beer in this heat was a good choice. I’m in the hunt for a bottle of Leffe to support the monks of Norcia: http://www.leffepernorcia.it/

  6. Pingback: Canon212 Update: Sodano’s FrancisVatican Communists Will Never Kill the True Church – The Stumbling Block
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  8. Martha says:

    Yes, dot not feather is a phrase I grew up with- figured it was colloquial.

    Your lamentation is lovely: you could mark it down for those necessary moments. And no, they cannot possibly believe any of that ‘stuff;’ otherwise what they’re all committing would be spiritual suicide.

  9. The Very Reverend says:

    This is all very sad. You are right to be angry.

  10. Mark Docherty says:

    You had me at dot not feather.

  11. Hilary White says:

    Actually there’s quite a demand for the Faith here. The Masses so far have all been packed.

  12. Andrew Dunn says:

    So if a priest has jurisdiction over five churches but doesn’t offer a daily Mass at at least one of them, and doesn’t have a scheduled hour of Confession during the week, what exactly is he doing six days a week? I’m sure Sunday is a busy, hectic day, racing between the five churches, saying the novus ordo to a dwindling number of people but really, does it take six days to recover from such stress?

    It reminds me of a time when I met a Sister of Mercy (remember them for what they were, not what they are today) a few years ago. She asked where I went to Church and I told her. “Oh, that’s where I go,” she said. “Oh”, I said back, “You must go to the 11:00 because I haven’t seen you at the 8:00.” “Oh no,” she said. “I like to keep Sunday open, so I go to the Saturday Vigil.” Keep Sunday open? For what? You’re a bride of the Church, I thought to myself with a sense of sadness. Can you not find the time in your retirement to respect the Third Commandment. Wasn’t the Saturday Vigil created for people who have to work on Sunday and therefore need some way to fulfill their Sunday obligation? Sorry, but if you’re retired other than volunteering a few hours a week at the hospital, then you have no excuse not to attend Mass on Sunday – especially if you’re a Religious.

    Let’s face it, probably 99 percent of the world’s churches today with the word “Catholic” on them are not Catholic at all but modernist, novus ordo congregations. I hope I live to see the day when that changes.

  13. edison says:

    “(Dot, not feather.)”
    Is it wrong that I laughed? Because I did….

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