By Anna Von Reitz
Other than basketballs, the word "rebound" most often is used in terms of love and the aftermath of recovery from a devastating loss of love relationships. We speak of the suffering soul as "rebounding" from the loss, striving to find new meaning----and, someday, after enough time has elapsed and healing has come, to find new love and purpose.
For many Catholics, their relationship with their Church is now like a broken love affair. There has been so much dirt dug up about mismanagement and corruption of the Church, so many scandals, so much money squandered, so many breaches of trust at all levels, that the heart is crushed.
If your Church is not trustworthy, what is? Nothing. Nothing and nobody, ever at all--- or so it seems. A weariness comes with this conclusion, a vast sense of emptiness and of being burdened and alone, all at the same time.
Could Satan ask for more? A greater victory?
I have spent a considerable portion of the past dozen years arguing with Catholics, listening to Catholics, and, yes, letting them cry on my shoulder when the arguing and the anger is gone, and all that is left ---at least momentarily--- is despair.
It is a spiritual misery that parallels the misery many Americans feel when they realize the actual nature and status of "their" government, a sense of confusion, followed by fear, followed by anger, followed by despair, followed by peace.
It's a long process of healing that brings us finally to a new foundation, and a new determination to rise up and rise above, either by correction and restoration or by embracing a new love.
"The Church is not our Church," they all say.
And they are right.
Their Church has been "redefined" in ways that render it unrecognizable, just as our government was "unlawfully converted". It's the same process.
Call it by a new name. Speak a new language. Embrace different values. "Ecumenicalize" everything. Give everyone everything they want, let them do whatever they want. Let the tail wag the dog. Who cares? Who is responsible?
The liberalization of the Roman Catholic Church, like the liberalization of society and government, leads to what I call "the melted Lalapalooza".
Baskin-Robbins used to have a gigantic sundae called the "Lalapalooza" featuring all 31 flavors, 31 scoops of ice cream, with all the toppings imaginable. I once ate one on a bet.
I ate it really, really fast, so that all 31 scoops were still 31 separate scoops.
My challenger ate much more slowly, and was left with a puddle of indistinguishable sweet goo the color of mud, and was unable to stomach it.
Our whole world, including the Church, is now part of the melted Lalapalooza, a dreary sameness of pattern, a lack of diversity in the midst of mindless calls for accepting diversity.
We've all accepted diversity to the point wherein we have lost ourselves, lost sight of who we are, what we stand for, what we believe, and even what is right or wrong.
All the mainstream churches are now liberalized to a point of being the same, all the mainstream media is the same, and, if the enemies of Mankind have their way, all the governments will be the same, too.
One big puddle of nondescript goo, unable to stand for anything true.
Yes, the Church is "on the rebound", but the Church is alive. The Church, hurt, dishonored, dragged through the dirt, betrayed from within, assaulted from without, is waking up just like the gobsmacked Americans facing up to the apostasy of their government.
At least I can tell the Catholics that they are not alone. What has happened to their Church has happened to our country, too. And just as a broken bone heals stronger, so will we heal and be stronger, too.
For my Catholic friends who no longer go to Church: