"Where Christ is not king, chaos rules"

Hieronder de tekst van bisschop Rob Mutsaerts op de Catholic Identity Conference die jaarlijks in Pittsburgh wordt gehouden:

 

Where Christ is not king, chaos rules

Everyone speaks about the crises of our age: political division, economic uncertainty, the threat of war. Yet beneath all this turmoil lies a deeper crisis that is often overlooked: a spiritual crisis. As my hero Chesterton once observed, we tend to worry about the wrong dangers. We fear wars and financial collapses, while the real threat is the moral and spiritual corruption that gnaws at the soul .

At its root, our modern world has neglected the spiritual dimension. It is not so much the chaos around us, but the emptiness within us that destabilises society. People become lost because they no longer know why they are here – which is a profoundly spiritual problem. We need higher goals and a moral compass, not merely new political slogans. When humanity turns its gaze away from God, a vacuum emerges that is filled with substitutes: ideologies, fads, and obsessions that may mask discomfort but never heal it.

In a time when faith was still alive, the impossible happened: Christianity conquered the Roman Empire, built cathedrals, created art, literature, and systems of law. But the modern world, which calls itself rational and enlightened, has abandoned miracles and lives in spiritual poverty. It denies the supernatural and then complains that it is not there. This is the tragedy of the modern world. It says: “Show me a miracle, and then I will believe.” But in reality, it is the other way around: believe, and then you will see the miracle. The miracle is not that God appears with splendor and majesty; the miracle is that He stood in a workshop, sawing planks.

 

“Idolatry is not only committed by setting up false gods, but also by setting up false devils; by making men afraid of war or alcohol or economic laws, when they ought to be afraid of spiritual corruption and cowardice.” – G.K. Chesterton

This witty remark from 1909 sounds almost prophetic today. We identify all manner of earthly enemies – from climate change to viral outbreaks – and mobilise against them, while ignoring the invisible enemies of the soul: meaninglessness, moral decay, and despair. It is as if humanity is busy extinguishing a small fire in the front yard, while the foundations of the house – the spiritual ground – are slowly sinking away.

One of the most remarkable and radical aspects when Jesus sends out His apostles is the command of Jesus: “If anyone will not receive you and will not listen to you, shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.” Here we see something that in modern times is almost unthinkable: the absolute certainty of faith. This is a crucial point: Catholicism is not one of many possible opinions about God and the world. It is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (I know that line from american tv series). And truth is not a matter of debate, synodality or compromise. The apostles are not commanded to debate, to negotiate endlessly, or to adapt themselves to the wishes of their listeners. If someone does not accept what the apostles proclaim, they move on.

This is the opposite of modern Christianity, which often apologizes for itself, twists and turns in every possible way to remain acceptable and relevant to the secular world. The command to shake the dust from their feet is not a call to contempt, but a sign of the objective truth of the faith. If people refuse Christ, it is not a matter of interpretation, but a tragic rejection of reality itself. Here resounds a warning to the Western Church: do not be afraid of being unpopular. The apostles were not popular either. And yet, they changed the world.

The apostles set out and call for repentence, for conversion. Not vague spirituality, not a general message of love, peace and understanding, but conversion - the call to a radically new way of life. Religion is not merely a personal preference without consequences. Christianity is not an optional spiritual lifestyle. It is the way to salvation. And that is why the mission of the apostles is the mission of the Church throughout the ages. The Church is not a neutral institution that preserves cultural heritage. She is a fighter for the truth, a Church that does not bow to the whims of the times but fulfills her mission without compromise. The Church that takes her mission seriously will be persecuted. The Church that tries to be agreeable to the world will be ignored.

And then, as the crowning climax, the apostles go out and cast out evil spirits. This is the peak of the adventure: the real battle is not against people, not against cultures, not against rulers. The real battle is against the powers of darkness. The mission of Jesus is the defeat of evil. That is therefore also the mission of the Church. Christianity is not a theory, not merely morality, not a purely human affair. It is a war against evil itself. The modern world has the tendency to psychologize evil, to reduce it to social factors, to treat it as an abstraction. But Christianity is far more realistic: evil is a reality.

Because the root of the crisis is spiritual, the solution must also be spiritual. It is, at its core, a battle for the soul. We may pass a hundred laws and invent technological wonders, but if the soul is sick, the symptoms will keep returning. We see this clearly: prosperity and science have achieved much, but inner restlessness and moral confusion have not diminished. In fact, as people put less trust in God, they put their trust in everything else. Chesterton captured this paradox: When men stop believing in God, they don’t believe in nothing; they believe in anything.

We see this everywhere. Where church pews empty, self-help gurus, horoscope websites, and trendy “spiritualities” overflow. The human hunger for meaning remains, even when Christ is rejected. But substitutes – whether blind faith in the market, science-worship as almighty savior, or esoteric experiments – cannot replace Christ. They are like salt without flavor.

Thus, when we abandon Christ, the crisis only deepens. We see it around us: as Christian faith disappears, moral norms fade and communities unravel. A society that loses its soul also loses its solidarity and direction. In place of the Gospel’s charity, we inherit a cold culture of radical self-assertion, where everyone has their own “truth” and nothing remains sacred. This breeds loneliness, polarization, and hopelessness – a crisis of the spirit that amplifies every other crisis. It always leads to decadence and finally to destruction. Checq your historybooks.

How come? Let me tell you about my neighbour. I like to go to his house. Why? Het has good coffee: a fancy Italian Barrista coffemachine. I happend to be there when he unpacked this Barrista machine. And tried to get it to work. But we failed. It produced just steam, a next try just a lot of noise and another try just some drab. So, a very disappointing experience. The next day he did something very sensible: he took put the instruction-booklet and followed the instructions. Result: delicious coffee. It is quite simple: the person who made this machine knows how it works. He designed it. Follow his instructions and it will result in what it was made for. Ignore the instructions, and you either get lousy coffee or it doesn’t function at all or at worst destroys the machine.

Why is this bishop you bothering with coffee machines. Well, how does a human being function well? We have a creator, we are designed by a Designer. How do we know what our purpose is and how to realise that pupose? Did He provide instructions? Yes, He did. He gave us the Old testament (mainly the diagnose what went wrong), and He gave us the cure: the New Testament: Jesus Christ, The Apostles, The Church, Tradition, Church teaching. Follow the instructions, and you will  find out what your purpose in life is and how to reach your destination: eternal life. Ignore the instructions of our Creator, and thing will go wrong. Like the doffe machine went wrong. Where Christ is out of the picture, things get devastatingly wrong. Where Christ is not King, Chaos rules. And that, my dear friends, is what we call modernity.

Without God it is up to us to cure the world of its flaws. That things go wrong since beginning of times is obvious. Without Christ, what is the cure? The world believes in progress. But why bother about progress when the Condition Humaine is the problem. The problem is that modernity does not think that that is the problem. They think society is the problem, structures are the problem, other people are the problem, economics are the problem, politics are the problem, and we can do something about just that. That is what the French Revolutionairs thought, what the Bolsjewist thought, the Arabian Spring was supposed to do. And we know where it lead to: chaos and destruction. The biblical story of the Tower of Babel already made that clear: human attemp to regain Paradise. We know how that ended. And we keep believing that it is possible: European union, New World Order, the great reset.

Before the age of enlightment nobody believed in progress (christianity was dominant; Utopian ideas did not stand a chance). The Enlightment didn’t believe in God. Man was basicly good, structures of society were the problem. Voltaire had this idea of the nobel savage. Where there is no money and christianity to ruin peaceful living together, there must be harmony, love, peace and understanding. Well, that turned out to be a mistake. Voltaire also wrote a book on raising kids. Did he have kids himself? Yes; 5. You know how he raised them? He didn’t. Straight after birth he delivered them all 5 of them at the orphanige. I rest my case.

We still believe in progress: progress in technic, in science. While the Enlightment also believed in moral progress, since the 20th century (Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot) we don’t believe in that anymore, but since we don’t believe in life after death and not in moral progress, what is left: insanity, absurdity, the opposite of a utopian society. How come: two reasons. 1. We erased God out of the equasion.   2. Common sense is not common anymore, as Chesterton already noticed a century ago.

The Catholic Church has always embraced the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas. Why? Because it is based on common sense. The philosophy of St. Thomas rests on the universal conviction that eggs are eggs. That may seem obvious, but in a confusing world it no longer is. The Hegelian may say that an egg is really a chicken, because it is part of an endless process of becoming. The Berkeleyan may claim that poached eggs exist only as a dream exists, since it is just as easy to say that the dream caused the eggs as that the eggs caused the dream. The Pragmatist may believe that we get the best out of scrambled eggs by forgetting that they were ever eggs and remembering only the scramble.

But no disciple of St. Thomas has to rack his brains to reach the conclusion that an egg is simply an egg. The Thomist knows that eggs are not chickens, nor dreams, nor mere practical assumptions, but things confirmed by the authority of the senses. Thus spoke the apostle with the great mind, G.K. Chesterton.

Apparently, there are few Thomists and Chestertonians left—people for whom it is clear that a boy is a boy and a girl is a girl. These are biological facts that can be perceived with the senses. A boy does not exist the way a dream exists; it is not the dream that is the cause of his being, nor his being the cause of the dream. You may apply as much plastic surgery as you like and then forget what the body originally looked like—yet that does not change the fact that he is still a boy. And a baby is a baby…

There are two central truths that Chesterton defends: the family and the faith. The whole of modern society wages war against these two truths. The attack on the family is an attack on life itself, and the attack on faith is an attack on the Creator of life.

Every child is Jesus: a visitor from heaven, entrusted for a time to his parents. Marriage is a sacrament. It reveals a religious truth: that love is unconditional, and that love is life-giving. The attack on the family is above all an attack on a religious truth. And it is an attack on the religion that revealed this truth: the Roman Catholic Church. To defend the faith means to defend the family. But it also means defending the faith itself—its precepts, its practices, its purity. The attacks come from every side, both subtle and overt. Chesterton says: “What is really at work in the world today is anti-Catholicism and nothing else.”

Chesterton: “The opponents of Christianity would believe anything except Christianity.” And indeed, we have seen that the most bizarre sects and cults are taken seriously, while the Church is mocked. Every heresy has taken a fragment of the truth and discarded the rest. Thus Lutherans became obsessed with “faith alone,” Calvinists with the sovereignty of God, Baptists with the Bible, Seventh-Day Adventists with the Sabbath, and so on.

The Catholic Church is attacked for being too austere or too ostentatious, too material or too spiritual, too worldly or too unworldly, too complex or too simplistic. Catholics are criticized for being celibate but also for having too many children; criticized for being unfair to women but also because “only women” go to Mass. The modernists complain that the Catholic Church is dead, and then complain even more loudly that she has so much power and influence. Secularists admire Italian art while despising Italian religion. The world reproaches Catholics for their sins - and worse still, for confessing their sins. Protestants say Catholics do not take the Bible seriously, and then criticize them for being so literal about the Eucharist.

In the end, every attack on the Church is an attack on the priesthood and the Eucharist. Every attack on the Church is an attack on Christ: God who came as a child, who founded a Church, and who held up the bread and the chalice and said: “This is my body. This is my blood.” Chesterton defended the Church even when he was still an outsider. Ironically, today we sometimes have to defend the Church against insiders - against Catholics, even in Rome itself - who wish to undermine their own faith. Thank God, thing are going back to normaal again, so it seems.

And yet, this battle is not hopeless. On the contrary, the first step toward healing is recognition: to admit that what we face is not merely political or economic, but a moral and spiritual emergency. Only then can we choose the right weapons. And so we must ask: how do we fight a spiritual battle? Faith is an individual matter. Jesus suffered the most on the cross knowing that He wouldn’t save everybody, that not everybody would believe in Him (my people, look what I have done for you; what more could I have done. That is why Jesus weet over Jerusalem). It is true, we have a free will. It is up to us to cooperate with Jesus’ salvatioplan. The secular world want to solve problems; Christians look for salvation.

In times of crisis, some lament that Christianity has failed, that the Church has become irrelevant. But has the Christian ideal ever truly been tried and found wanting? Our world does not suffer because we followed Christ too closely, but because we did not follow Him at all. Even within the Church this is the problem. The Church after Vatican II …. Not the actual Council, but what they made of it: The so called Spirit of Vat II. There is not much wrong with the actual document of Vat II. Sacrosanctum Concilium stresses the importance of Latin, of Gregorian Chant, there is no mention of removing altarrails, and replacing the Highalter for a kitchen table. But media and the likes of Küng and Schillebeeckx (B) hijacked the Council and changed it into something completely different. I have had hundreds discussions and I alway ask them the same question: Have you read the documents. The answer is alway: no, but… No, no, no buts, read them and then come back. They never do. Sure, Vat II had its flaws and its pastoral language gave room for different interpretations, but let us not confuse the actual council with the council of the media and those who were out to change church teaching. The fruits: sour grapes. Then you know something is really wrong.

Problem of course is that it was not a dogmatic council. The only reason councils were held was to clear things up. By the way, we should be thankful for Arius and other heretics. Without them we would’n have the confession of faith as given its formulation by the Council of Nicea. Councils were there to bring discussions to an end: if you believe this, you are in, if you don’t you’re out. Roma locuta, causa finita. No more Sed Contra.

Aggionamento. We thought we had to go with the flow of the secular society. We wanted to be relevant in these modern times; the Church of Nice instead of the Church of Nicea. Social gatherings. We restricted the 10 commandments to 1 commandment: love thy neighbour, be nice. That reflected in the Novus Ordo: the altar was replaced by a table [not in Sacrosanctum Concilium]. Altar means sacrifice. Eucharist is sacrifice in the form of a meal. Not a meal in the form of a sacrifice. Jesus broke bread at the Last Supper, but that referred to the sacrifice on the cross! And not to ‘breaking and sharing’! O yes, we are very social, but who mentions life after death, judgement, the 4 extremes.

The problem is not that the Gospel is outdated, but that we have traded it for easier substitutes. Half-truths cannot heal the soul. Only the radical, whole truth of Christ can. This is not a “medieval” ideal. The crisis of our time – loneliness, injustice, bitterness – cries out for real Christians who bring courageous love and hope where cynicism and despair reign.

Some turn away from faith because of the failures of Christians – scandals, hypocrisy, compromise. True enough, these have harmed the Church’s credibility. But this does not negate the truth of her message. The Church is not holy because her children never sin, but because she offers sinners a path to holiness. The failures of Christians prove not that Christ failed, but that we have failed to follow Him.

The path out of crisis begins with an authentic return to Christ. Faith must not be a cultural accessory, but the source of life. When Christians live their faith seriously – not as compulsion, but as love – it shines outward. The soul of the world can only be healed when our own souls burn again with faith, hope, and love.

This brings us to the role of the Church. Some communities still try to stop decline by going with the times – modernizing, simplifying, polishing until nothing offends. Others do the opposite: swimming against the tide, holding fast to tradition and orthodoxy even if it seems “outdated.” Which truly works?

Chesterton, a convert to Catholicism, was blunt: adapting the Church to every fad is pointless. “We do not want, as the papers say, a church that will move with the world. We want a church that will move the world” . In other words: a church gains credibility not by echoing the world, but by correcting it. We need a faith that confronts us when we are wrong, not one that only reassures us when we already agree .

And indeed, what do we see? The so-called “liberal” churches – those that dilute or relativize doctrine to appear relevant – are collapsing. Their pews are graying and emptying. Sociologists put it simply: “Liberal churches have no children.” They cannot inspire new generations . Already by the early 2000s, such communities were acknowledged to be fading, visited mostly by the elderly . Youth are not drawn to a lukewarm, secularized Christianity. A “warmed-over humanism” has no power to inspire .

Meanwhile, orthodox churches – those that boldly proclaim what they believe, rooted in tradition – are attracting youth . These are churches that stand for something, and people notice. A church that dares to be an oasis in the desert, offering living water to the thirsty, draws seekers in . This is no fantasy: recent surveys confirm that younger generations, surprisingly, are showing a modest return to faith, and that orthodox communities benefit most .

In short: the churches that remain faithful – whether through reverent liturgy, clear doctrine, or uncompromising moral teaching – are precisely those drawing new life, especially among the young. I meet quite a lot of them. They don’t want to be pampered, but challeged. They want to if there is something to believe in and live according to it. They want to know the truth. They show up in our churches totally out of the blue. The Numbers are small, but they are there. And it happens everywhere (4 eigenschappen: 1 secular enviroment 2 want to know the truth 3 very young 4 all young men/boys).

Paradoxically, amidst decline, we see signs of hope among the young. In some places, Generation Z appears slightly more religious than the Millennials before them . In the Netherlands, for example, surveys show that 30% of young adults between 15 and 35 now identify as religious. That may not seem a lot, but the numbers seemed to decline to next to nothing. Moreover, orthodox Christian communities – Catholic, Orthodox, and Evangelical – are growing .

Why? Because young people seek depth and clarity. They grew up in a culture of “everyone has their own truth,” but found that this left them empty. They long for a Truth greater than themselves, a foundation under shifting sands. They do not want half-belief, but the real thing. And they crave community. In an atomized, individualistic culture, authentic Christian community shines like a family. This is why youth groups, pilgrimages, and traditional parishes full of young families are flourishing. Far from being repelled by demanding faith, many are drawn to it. They want mystery, beauty, and challenge – not a watered-down copy of secular culture.

We began with the claim that today’s crisis is, at heart, spiritual. And indeed, the deepest answers must also be spiritual. The apostle Paul reminds us in his letter to the Ephesians: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms”. In other words, the deepest battle of the Christian is not against men and women of flesh and blood, but against the invisible powers of evil. This is not medieval superstition, but a sober reality of Christian life. We live, as C.S. Lewis once put it, in enemy-occupied territory, where darkness still prowls despite the decisive victory already won by Christ on Calvary.

Yet this spiritual struggle feels awkward or unreal to many. In our modern, enlightened age, talk of devils and angels sounds outdated. Evil is explained away as psychology or sociology, with no supernatural agency at work. But perhaps that skepticism is precisely what satan wants. We can fall into two opposite traps regarding the devil: either we deny his existence altogether, or we become unhealthily obsessed with him. As Lewis observed in The Screwtape Letters, the devil is equally pleased with both extremes. The wise Christian remains alert without hysteria: acknowledging evil soberly without paranoia.

The prince of darkness, is not God’s equal opposite. He is no eternal anti-god, but a fallen angel — a creature once good, now in revolt. He is limited. Clever and dangerous compared with us, yes, but finite and ultimately subject to God’s power. There is indeed a war in the universe, but not between two equal gods. It is the rebellion of a creature against his Creator. This perspective prevents both overestimation and underestimation of the enemy.

Paul warns of the “schemes of the devil”. Schemes suggest deception and subtlety. The devil does not usually appear in horns and red tights. His aim is to draw us away from God, and he does so through lies and temptations disguised as ordinary thoughts and moods.

Have you noticed how quickly your mood can shift from faith and joy to doubt or discouragement, sometimes without clear cause? There may be a darker intelligence eager to exploit those weak moments. The devil knows our vulnerabilities. He whispers: “Your prayer makes no difference; give it up.” He drags up old guilt to dishearten us. His tactic is not usually outright denial of God, but the gradual corrosion of trust in God’s goodness.

Consider a quarrel within the church. On the surface it looks like a human disagreement. But soon pride or resentment creeps in. The other person begins to look like the enemy. Paul’s words remind us: that person is not the real enemy. The real enemy laughs when Christians turn on each other.

Or take modern temptations. Often the devil need not frighten us at all — he prefers to lull us to sleep. He drowns us in entertainment, distraction, and comfort until God fades into irrelevance. Thanks be to God, He has not left us defenseless. Paul prescribes the armor of God (Eph. 6:13–17). The imagery is that of a Roman soldier, but the weapons are spiritual virtues, not steel. Let us examine them:

•             The Belt of Truth: A soldier’s belt held everything together. So truth keeps us from collapsing in confusion. In a world of relativism and falsehood, honesty and love of truth are our first defense.

•             The Breastplate of Righteousness: The breastplate guards the heart. Righteousness means both Christ’s gift of justification and our moral integrity.

•             The Shoes of Readiness to Proclaim the Gospel of Peace: Shoes give stability and movement. Our readiness to live and share the Gospel makes us firm-footed.

•             The Shield of Faith: With faith, we extinguish the “flaming arrows of the evil one.” Faith is trust in God’s promises.

•             The Helmet of Salvation: The helmet protects the mind. Salvation is our assurance of belonging to Christ and our hope of eternal life.

•             The Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God: The only offensive weapon. “Do you think I came to bring peace? No, division”

•             Paul then adds what breathes life into all: prayer. Prayer is the communication line with our Commander. It keeps us connected to headquarters. Without prayer, even the finest armor leaves us isolated.

Have the courage to go against the tide. Do not be ashamed of orthodoxy or “old-fashioned” values. They are precisely what give credibility.

Build communities of real catholics. A parish or family wher Christ is truly king is a powerful answer to the crisis of meaninglessness. Unite the clans.

The struggle is not yet won. But neither is it lost. History shows that Truth, though suppressed or forgotten, always rises again. And in our darkest age, the light of Christ can shine brightest.

“The world is full of fools who say the times are dark. But I say: it is precisely in darkness that a single candle - the little remnant - shines brightest.

So let us hold high the candle of faith. Not with bitterness, but with joy; not with resignation, but with hope. For Christ alone is the answer that can turn the crisis. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Some days the armor feels heavy. Some days we feel weary. Yet the battle is the Lord’s. Our role is to remain faithful, to pray, to stand. Remember: the weakest saint, clothed in God’s armor, is stronger than hell. Strive to become a saint. If that is not your goal in life, you totally wasted it.

Thank for not dozing of, for your kind attention.Viva Christo Re!