The article from the National Catholic Register (April 10, 2026) reports on the Artemis II mission, where astronauts proposed naming lunar craters “Integrity” and “Carroll” (after the late wife of astronaut Reid Wiseman). It highlights moments of emotion among the crew and draws a connection to Jesuit contributions to lunar mapping and astronomy, suggesting a continuity between Catholic tradition and modern space exploration. Yet this sentimental narrative obscures the spiritual void at the heart of such endeavors—where personal grief is elevated over divine worship, and scientific achievement is divorced from its ultimate purpose: the glory of God and the salvation of souls.
The Eclipse of the Supernatural in Space Exploration
The article presents the Artemis II mission as a moment of “faith, remembrance and a renewed sense of wonder at God’s creation.” But what kind of faith is this? It is a faith reduced to sentimentality—a tearful embrace in zero gravity, a crater named after a deceased wife. This is not the faith of the martyrs who confessed Christ before kings, nor the faith of the saints who sought only the glory of God. It is a naturalistic faith, centered on human emotion and personal loss, devoid of any reference to the supernatural order.
The Church has always taught that the universe is a manifestation of God’s wisdom and power, but its study must be ordered toward knowing and loving Him. As Pope Pius XI declared in *Quas Primas*, “Christ reigns over the minds of men… because He Himself is Truth, and men must draw truth from Him and accept it obediently.” Yet the article reduces the cosmos to a backdrop for human drama, ignoring the divine mandate to subject all knowledge—including astronomy—to the reign of Christ the King.
The Jesuit Legacy: From Sacred Science to Secular Accommodation
The article praises Jesuit astronomers like Giovanni Battista Riccioli and Christopher Clavius for their contributions to lunar mapping and calendar reform. While their work was indeed rooted in a Catholic worldview—where science served theology and the liturgical life of the Church—the modern successors of these men have largely abandoned that mission. The Vatican Observatory, once a beacon of Catholic intellectual rigor, now operates as a mere appendage of secular science, seeking dialogue with the world rather than proclaiming the kingship of Christ.
Brother Guy Consolmagno, the observatory’s former director, is emblematic of this decline. His refusal to comment on the crater-naming proposal due to his role with the International Astronomical Union (IAU) reveals a Church more concerned with institutional approval than with prophetic witness. The IAU, a secular body, holds authority over the naming of celestial features—a symbolic surrender of the Church’s right to interpret creation in light of divine revelation.
The Cult of Sentimentality Over Sacred Duty
The emotional core of the article—the naming of a crater after Carroll Wiseman—exposes the modern obsession with personal grief as a form of public worship. While the loss of a loved one is indeed a cross to bear, the Church has always directed the faithful toward supernatural consolation: prayer for the dead, the offering of Masses, and trust in God’s mercy. Instead, the astronauts seek immortality in a lunar crater—a pagan gesture, reminiscent of the ancient practice of deifying the dead.
Reid Wiseman’s tribute to his wife, though understandable on a human level, lacks any reference to the sacraments, the communion of saints, or the hope of resurrection. It is a purely naturalistic memorial, stripped of supernatural faith. As St. Pius X warned in *Lamentabili sane exitu*, modern man seeks to “explain the mysteries of faith by natural causes” and reduces religion to “a certain interpretation of religious facts worked out by the human mind.” This is precisely the error at work here: grief is secularized, and the moon becomes a monument to human love rather than a testament to divine creation.
The Silence on Christ’s Kingship Over Creation
Most damning is the article’s complete silence on the social reign of Christ the King over all creation, including the cosmos. Pope Pius XI, in *Quas Primas*, explicitly stated that “the kingdom of Christ extends not only to Catholic nations… but also to all non-Christians, so that most truly the entire human race is subject to the authority of Jesus Christ.” This dominion includes the heavens themselves: “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 18:2), not the glory of astronauts or their personal tributes.
Yet the article presents space exploration as a neutral, even noble, endeavor—unconnected to the Church’s mission to bring all things under the lordship of Christ. There is no mention of the duty to evangelize, to consecrate the cosmos to the Sacred Heart, or to recognize that all scientific achievement must serve the supernatural end of man. Instead, we are offered a bland narrative of “continuity” between Jesuit science and NASA—a continuity that masks the apostasy of a Church that now seeks relevance in the eyes of the world rather than fidelity to its divine Founder.
Conclusion: A Moon Without a Cross
The Artemis II mission, as presented in this article, is a microcosm of the modern Church’s spiritual bankruptcy. It celebrates human emotion over divine worship, scientific achievement over supernatural truth, and institutional approval over prophetic witness. The naming of a lunar crater after a deceased astronaut may be a touching gesture, but it is a gesture empty of Catholic substance—a moon without a cross, a universe without a Creator.
Let us return to the teaching of the Church before the conciliar revolution: that all creation must be subjected to Christ the King, that science must serve theology, and that the only true memorial for the dead is the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Until then, we must reject these sentimental narratives and call the faithful back to the unchanging truth: “Thou hast made him a little less than the angels; thou hast crowned him with glory and honor, and hast set him over the works of thy hands” (Psalm 8:6). All honor belongs to God alone—not to astronauts, not to craters, and not to a Church that has forgotten its mission.
Source:
Artemis II, Carroll Wiseman and the Catholic Connection (ncregister.com)
Date: 10.04.2026