You Take 16 Nuns And What Do You Get?

How to complete the phrase making up the title to this post so that it matches with the song made famous by Tennessee Ernie Ford?  In the circumstances, I suppose something like:  "An undersized, dubious Catholic sect."  How's that?

It's unusual for me to post about the Church twice in a single month, but I find myself fascinated by the news about 16 Spanish nuns, of the Order of St. Clare or "the Poor Clares", who have declared themselves separated from Rome and their putative superiors in the well-established Catholic hierarchy, thereby becoming a self-described sect.  The Church has had a number of sects and heretics over the centuries, but this one must be remarkable at least for its small size and the fact that it's made up of nuns.

Instead of the Pontifex Maximus (as I enjoy calling the Pope) and their duly appointed bishop, the nuns have pledged their allegiance, as it were, to a person who calls himself a bishop, Pablo de Rojas Sanchez-Franco, who was excommunicated by the Church in 2019.  The declaration or manifesto of the nuns in which their schism from the Church was announced makes it clear that they object not only to the current occupant of the Throne of St. Peter, but to all of those who have sat in it since Pius XII.

From these facts it may be inferred that the sectarian nuns are very conservative Catholics, or traditional Catholics, or perhaps best described as Catholics who utterly reject the reforms which have taken place since 1958, when Pius departed this sinful world.  And if what we read about the manifesto is correct, that certainly is the case.  I'll admit I haven't read it, and must do so.  In fact I will do so now, if I can locate it via Google.

Well, perhaps not.  It seems to be 70 pages long, and I'm having trouble finding it.  I'll read the letter to which it's attached instead.

No, I won't.  As far as I can ascertain, both the manifesto and the letter are only available in Spanish.  Perhaps there'll be a translation someday.  No doubt I won't be interested in reading it then.

There are indications in some articles I've read that the manifesto may echo criticisms of clerics of the Church's authorization of the blessing of same sex marriages.  It's uncertain whether that's true, as it may be the person who wrote the articles merely refer to that as an example of dissent in the Church.  The nuns presumably condemn this practice as well, by implication if not expressly, its authorization being given post-Pius XII.  Regardless, it appears the Sisters complain that in general, Catholic pastors have failed their flocks, leaving them exposed to the (homosexual?) wolves.

What we see here may be another example of the claimed tendency of modern Catholics to desire a return to the "halcyon days" of the Church, i.e. the days pre-Vatican II, which has been remarked on by some as I noted in a prior post.  If that's the case, this desire goes beyond the aesthetic (and perhaps sentimental) preference I have for the old forms and rituals of the Church, which I think is understandable given the dreariness of its current ritual.  It is instead, I think, a sign of a sort of atavism among Catholics.  There is it seems a desire to revert to the past, not only as to form but substance.

I wonder if this desire is a sign that many of us today seek certainty more than anything else.  Certainty of thought and doctrine, even if that means disregard of what's taking place, perhaps even the disregard of what facts and reason indicate or suggest is true, or regarding the nature of the world with which we must interact.  Adherence to a doctrine already established and unquestionable creates a sense of comfort and stability, lacking in our all-too-interesting times.  It also instills a sense of fellowship; those who accept the doctrine and the lore are part of a community, no longer alone in the face of seeming chaos.  

What can compete with such a sense of solace?