Catholic Chaplains reading guidance from the Bishops to Catholics is sedition against the commander-in-chief.
I don't know what to say, except to say this guy is a no good bum and I think it's going to get ugly.
One of my favorite chapters in the book In the Likeness of Christ, is a chapter called The Triumph of Failure.
A few excerpts:
There is a peculiar evenness and balance in Our Lord's life. He is not more wonderful in act than in repose - in speech and in silence. In itself, especially with Our Lord, Whose nature was so perfect, there must needs be an immeasurable distance between the intrinsic value of a word fallen from His lips, and the same word withheld. Something of much value would have been so lost to the world - a treasure never brought to light. Yet is is not so. Christ expressed Himself fully in His life. All His greatness sees to be in the perfection with which he endured each succeeding circumstance - whether that demanded the putting forth or the cessation from activity. The bending of Himself to things - His perfect pliability to things - His power of maintaining His disposition perfect in every conjecture seems to be the aim and purpose of His life, rather than something positive to achieve. He seems to have left achievement to us, taking endurance (or passion) to be His. He knows full well that it is thus he world is saved by Him, and that it is by following His example in this that each individual soul is to be forged to perfection. In the establishment of the Kingdom of God, He assumes to Himself the function of the Sower. He went through the world sowing in tears; others seemed to be regarded rather for what they effected outside of Himself. His life, in a word, intensely active as it was, was rather a perfect subjugation to things rather than a radical conquest of things. In this lies the sublimity of Our Lord's life, and it's grandeur.
Richly endowed by nature and by grace with every quality that could assure success in His dealings with men and with human affairs - majestic presence, charm of manner, persuasiveness of speech, profound insight, limpidity of soul, infinite wealth of grace -- His life, nevertheless, as men judge things, was a complete failure. "The pattern of all human perfection achieves His triumphs, His kingship in hearts by a pilgrimage of which failure and continued agonizing effort under failure, is the beginning, the middle and the end." Those He healed were ungrateful; those He taught remained ignorant; and the hearts which He labored to soften and convert remained obdurate. Neither His eloquence nor His kindness won for Him the loyalty of His people. The few whom He did win to His side abandoned Him in the crises of His life. We miss the real pathos of Our Lord's life when we read the Gospel, because we have the vague half-formed idea that in all He went through, He was buoyed up by the view He had of ultimate success. This would have taken from the absolute perfection of Our Lord's Fortitude. It did not take one whit from the sharpness and harshness of the trials of His life, that He foresaw the salvation of men would be ultimately effected through that life. Just as the Beatific Vision which He enjoyed did not detract in the least from the intensity of His sufferings, so that the salvation of the world ultimately achieved did not minimize the pain of the actual positive failure of the moment in which He lived. As the knowledge of the Resurrection that was to follow Calvary could not blunt the sharp sword of grief that transfixed the heart of Mary, so the vision of a world ultimately to be transformed by His Sacrifice did not minister any natural support to our Lord's fortitude.
Jesus' feelings were habitually determined by His experimental knowledge and He experienced daily scarcely anything but re3verses and disappointment. Our Lord had constantly to drink the dregs of he cup of bitter and abject failure. He knew He would succeed in practically nothing, regard being had to the immediate object of His personal action. And yet, He did not for all that put any less firmness, force and intensity into His acts. he labored with as much assiduity and heart as if He hoped to succeed, though with His vision of the immediate future, He knew He could not. And even if we abstract from the certitude of this foreknowledge, He read His failure in the signs of the times as they revealed themselves to His penetrating gaze. As he stood before the multitudes and set before them in gracious and eloquent, though simple and picturesque language, doctrines consoling as well as sublime, He could read the positive resistance to truth in the frozen glances of some, the dullness begotten of vice in the looks of others, and the absolute incomprehension in the eyes of most. He knew that He possessed Truth, and He knew, too, that He expressed it in the way best adapted to the human intelligence. He knew how these truths, if accepted, would, for His hearers, solve the riddle of existence, satisfy the restless yearnings of their souls, and banish all unhappiness, if not all pain from their lives. He knew what the acceptance of these thoughts of His mind, which He clothed in such persuasive language, would mean of happiness for his fello-men, what loss would be involved for them in their rejection, and He used all the vast resources of His mind and soul to succeed - and He failed.
Something to keep in your heart as we proceed.