Back to the Underground

Coronavirus lockdown says no.

I think that most readers would have heard the news from last week that an Easter service in London was shut down by police who invaded the pulpit on the most holy of Catholic days. And that a similar attempt in Canada had a slightly different outcome, with the priest kicking out the same type of petty officials while displaying palpable scorn.

While some may think that the lesson to be gleaned from this is to stand up to nasty secular bullies, that’s not why I’m putting fingers to keyboard about it. Directly related to this was something that I saw posted on Gab and which I have entirely misplaced. But it went somewhere along the lines of there now exist underground churches in Canada and that persecution is right here, right now.

What I say to this is that you’re late to the party.

Real Catholics these days go to underground churches. They are nondescript places of worship in little villages in out of the way places. The congregations are tiny but extremely dedicated and serious in their faith. The priests are not the type of men to toe the prevailing line. They believe in the word of God in its pure form, before the Church was deformed by evil Freemasons and Satan worshiping pedophiles. When the plate is passed around for donations, people give their money with joy in their hearts that it is going to a real place of worship that fulfills their spiritual needs.

But most of all, the parishioners in these underground churches do not fear the banging of the petty officials at the door. Since they are outside the bounds of the disfigured Church, what do they care of government rules and regulations? There is no mask wearing in these churches. The holy water is used to make the sign of the cross. The Gregorian chanting is lusty and loud. They shake the hand of the priest and greet each other with hugs and kisses. Most importantly, Holy Communion is taken on their tongues while on their knees, the golden plate held firmly beneath their upturned chins.

No fear. If you no longer fear death, then what hold does this world have on you?

My fellow parishioners are a virile and healthy lot. They have large families, and their young children are the most vocal in the Latin mass. There is no anonymity. The first time I attended mass they were respectful and polite. The second time, they exchanged phone numbers with me. I am now part of the family, a real church family with a brave priest bravely leading his brave congregation.

And perhaps if Christianity is to regain its spiritual vigor then being pushed underground could be the best thing for it. Nothing is more romantic to the chicks than a bit of naughty boy standing up to the man underground Catholic spiritual intensity no sex for you until we’re married you naughty wench why aren’t you in the kitchen man you look fine in that long flowing dress we better put the eleven kids to bed and hope that God smiles on us again.

Underground churches are where it’s at.

Originally published at Pushing Rubber Downhill On April 13. You can purchase Adam’s books here.