Escriva’s canonization injures the Mystical Body

By Ruth Bertels

On Sunday, October 6, bells will peal out from the Vatican over the hills of Rome, and, thanks to modern technology, to every city and hamlet in the world, announcing the canonization of Josemaria de Balaquer, causing rejoicing to many and deep sadness to others.

      According to Vittorio Messori, author of Opus Dei Leadership and Vision in Today’s Catholic Church,300,000 to 400,000 were present in St. Peter’s Plaza for Escriva’s beatification. May 17, 1992. Word has it from Opus Dei headquarters that Sunday’s crowd will be even larger.

      A Phyrrhic victory will it be, however, its benefits forever resting upon the hidden, shifting sands of the new saint’s history of political maneuvering for power, honors and riches, not much associated with the attainment of the high holiness of a St. Francis of Assisi or a John of the Cross.

      Any teacher, preacher, or parent who sets up Escriva as an example of sanctity to Catholics of any age is risking scandal, either because the listeners know of his less than heroic virtue, or because they will eventually discover the truth, and will resent their having been deceived.

      The Church jealously guards its sacred places: cathedrals, chapels, convents, monasteries, etc., and when they have been desecrated, they must be consecrated anew to their solemn purpose.

      Is the elevation of Escriva to the rank of sainthood in St. Peter’s Plaza, the use of a sacred space to present as true that which is not so? Countless Catholics, both clergy and lay would say so.

      Despite the Maxim 677 he enjoined upon his followers, “Honors, distinctions, titles, things of air, puffs of pride, lies, nothingness,.” in 1968 Escriva petitioned for and was granted the title of Marques de Peralta, and had collected such decorations as the Grand Cross of St. Raymond of Penafort, the Grand Cross of Alfonso X the Wise, the Grand Cross of Isabel the Catholic and others, as well as sundry gold medals. (Opus Dei by Michael Walsh).

      Walsh goes on to say that Escriva had a strange notion of poverty. His private chapel in the Opus Rome HQ was opulently decorated.

      Maria del Carmen Tapia, a former member, said the founder demanded the best of everything: plates of porcelain, cutlery of silver. An archbishop was invited to lunch in 1965 during the last session of the Vatican Council, and was served on gold plates, which he found impossible to reconcile with the high ideals of Christian living they were discussing during the Council, and could not eat the exquisitely prepared and perfectly served food.

      Escriva’s frequent bursts of temper were well known throughout the organization, which was ruled by fear, rather than respect and love.

      Walsh concludes his book with this statement: “It is, I firmly believe, a basic tenet of Christianity that faith in Jesus Christ should be a liberating force in people’s lives, that it should free them to become more themselves, more in charge of their own destinies. Opus with its rules and regulations, its censorship, its control of the minutiae of members’ day-to-day living, its class-related structures, its association with elites of wealth and of power, as I have attempted to describe in this book, could not claim to be a force for liberation. And to the extent that it fails this test, it is not merely, as a sect, less than Catholic.

      “It is less than Christian.”

      The physical structure of St. Peter’s will not be desecrated with this canonization, but the Spiritual Body of Christ will suffer a severe blow, a test of faith for its members, resulting, I think, in an increased sense of disconnect from Rome.

        Our people are hurting, reeling from the clergy abuse scandals, the financial scandals, the terror of 9/11, and they are seeking a safe place where they can count upon those in authority to be shepherds, to walk with them in love and compassion. To walk with them in the light of truth.

      We are blessed to find the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi, with his deep love of people, true spirituality, and dedication to poverty two days ahead of Escriva’s feast. There is so much to be gleaned from Francis’ holy life, who could fault priests and teachers from spreading his feast over a three-day period, surreptitiously side-stepping all that shifting sand?

 
     
 

By Ruth Bertels

October 4, 2002 
 
 

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