James Day Commentaries – April 10, 2026
The article from the National Catholic Register portal presents a commentary by James Day, Operations Manager at EWTN, on the character of Abbé Faria from Alexandre Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo. The reflection centers on the priest’s role in forming Edmond Dantès, exploring themes of suffering, intellectual and spiritual formation, and the moral ambiguity of shaping another soul. While the piece begins as a literary meditation, it subtly reveals the theological and spiritual bankruptcy of modernist Catholicism’s approach to formation, priesthood, and suffering—errors that have festered since the conciliar revolution.
The Illusion of Neutral Formation
At first glance, the article appears harmless—a thoughtful reflection on a fictional priest’s influence. But beneath its polished prose lies a dangerous assumption: that formation is morally neutral. Day writes, “Faria undoubtedly gives Dantès extraordinary gifts: knowledge, discipline and clarity. Yet he does not, at least explicitly, redirect him away from vengeance and toward forgiveness.” This statement, while seemingly balanced, betrays a profound theological error. In Catholic doctrine, formation is never neutral. As St. Thomas Aquinas teaches, gratia supponit et perficit naturam (grace builds upon and perfects nature). True formation must orient the soul toward God, truth, and charity—not merely equip it for worldly action.
The article’s failure to condemn Faria’s omission is symptomatic of a broader modernist tendency: the reduction of priesthood to intellectual or emotional support, divorced from its supernatural mission. The Council of Trent unequivocally states that the priest acts in persona Christi, ordained not merely to teach, but to sanctify (Session XXIII, Chapter 1). Faria’s failure to guide Dantès toward forgiveness is not a tragic ambiguity—it is a dereliction of duty. Yet Day treats it as an inevitable limitation, even a mark of humility: “No teacher, father or priest forms another person perfectly.”
This is the language of modernist therapeutic deism, not Catholic theology. The priest is not called to be a life coach or a mentor in secular wisdom. He is a mediator of grace, a guardian of souls, and a dispenser of the mysteries of God (1 Corinthians 4:1). When he fails to order the soul toward its supernatural end, he commits a grave sin of omission. Pius XI, in Quas Primas, insists that Christ’s kingship extends over all aspects of life—including the intellect and will. To form a man without directing him to God is to build a house on sand.
The Myth of “Hidden” Holiness
Day draws a parallel between Faria and saints like Maximilian Kolbe and John of the Cross, claiming that Faria “sustained a spiritual life for others” in the darkness of prison. This comparison is not only flawed—it is blasphemous. Kolbe died as a martyr, sacrificing his life for another out of pure charity, in union with Christ’s sacrifice. His suffering was redemptive, offered to God for the salvation of souls. Faria, by contrast, uses his suffering to fuel a worldly project: the education of an avenger. His “spiritual life” is a humanist fantasy, a self-constructed intellectual haven devoid of true supernatural virtue.
Moreover, the article’s mention of Kolbe is deeply problematic. As established in our ideological assumptions, Kolbe was not a martyr in the strict sense—he died for a fellow prisoner, not for the faith. More importantly, he was “canonized” by an antipope, rendering the act null and void. To invoke him as a model is to legitimize the conciliar sect’s false sanctity. True sanctity is found only in communion with the pre-conciliar Church, where the Mass is the true Sacrifice of Calvary, and the saints are those recognized by the immutable Magisterium.
Similarly, the reference to John of the Cross is misleading. The Doctor of the Union with God endured suffering not to build an intellectual empire, but to purify the soul for divine union. His Dark Night is a journey of detachment, not a curriculum of worldly empowerment. Faria’s cell is not a Carmelite cloister—it is a laboratory of human ambition. The article’s attempt to sanctify this is a hallmark of modernist hagiography, which elevates human effort over divine grace.
The Danger of Secular Wisdom
The article celebrates Faria’s intellectual achievements: “He writes, studies, invents, reasons—and prays.” But what does he pray to? The God of Revelation, or the god of reason? In Dumas’ novel, Faria is a product of Enlightenment rationalism, a man who trusts in human intellect to overcome adversity. His “prayer” is likely a vague deism, not the liturgical, sacramental prayer of the Catholic Church. Yet Day presents this as a model of priestly formation.
This reflects the modernist heresy condemned in Lamentabili sane exitu (1907), which rejects the idea that human reason alone can attain truth without reference to God (Proposition 3). Pius X warns that the pursuit of novelty in sacred sciences leads to “deplorable consequences” and the corruption of faith. Faria’s cell is a temple of secular wisdom, not a sanctuary of divine truth. His formation of Dantès is not ordered toward God, but toward worldly power.
The article’s silence on this point is deafening. There is no mention of the sacraments, grace, or the supernatural virtues. Instead, we are offered a vision of priesthood as intellectual mentorship, stripped of its sacrificial and redemptive character. This is the conciliar priesthood in miniature: a facilitator of human potential, not a mediator of divine life.
The Moral Weight of Influence
Day acknowledges that “to shape another life… is to take part in a mystery that is both creative and dangerous.” But he fails to grasp the full weight of this responsibility. In Catholic moral theology, the one who cooperates in another’s sin shares in the guilt. If Faria knowingly equips Dantès for vengeance without correcting him, he becomes an accessory to sin. The article treats this as an unfortunate ambiguity, but it is a moral failure.
The modernist Church, however, has abandoned such rigor. In the name of “accompaniment” and “discernment,” it has embraced a pastoral relativism that refuses to judge actions as objectively sinful. This is the fruit of Vatican II’s Dignitatis Humanae, which denies the Church’s authority to condemn error and imposes a false religious liberty. The article’s tone—cautious, sympathetic, non-judgmental—is the tone of a Church that has lost its prophetic voice.
True formation requires not only intellectual instruction but moral correction. As St. Paul writes, “If a man be overtaken in any fault, you, who are spiritual, instruct such a one in the spirit of meekness” (Galatians 6:1). Faria does not instruct Dantès in meekness—he arms him for war. And the article applauds this as a “gift.”
The Absence of Redemption
The article concludes with a tantalizing hint: “the possibility—still open, still unfolding—of redemption.” But redemption in what sense? In the novel, Dantès eventually shows mercy, but this is a humanistic mercy, not a conversion to God. There is no sacramental confession, no penance, no return to the Church. His “redemption” is a literary device, not a supernatural reality.
This is the ultimate failure of the article: it substitutes human fulfillment for divine salvation. The modernist Church, like Faria, offers tools for living but not the means of grace. It forms men for the world, not for heaven. It promises influence but not sanctification.
In contrast, the true Church—the Church of all ages—offers the sacraments, the Mass, and the fullness of truth. Her priests are not mere mentors but alter Christus, configured to Christ the High Priest. Their formation is not intellectual but supernatural, aimed at union with God, not worldly success.
Conclusion: A Call to Return to Tradition
The article by James Day is a microcosm of modernist Catholicism: intellectually engaging, spiritually empty, and morally compromised. It celebrates a fictional priest who forms a man for vengeance, compares him to false saints, and ignores the supernatural mission of the priesthood. It is a symptom of a Church that has abandoned its divine mandate to sanctify souls.
We must reject this vision and return to the immutable Tradition. Let us seek true formation in the sacraments, under the guidance of validly ordained priests who act in persona Christi. Let us remember that suffering, when united to Christ’s Cross, is redemptive—not a catalyst for worldly ambition. And let us never forget that the true measure of a priest is not his intellect, but his fidelity to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords.
Ad maiorem Dei gloriam.
Source:
The Priest Who Counsels the Count of Monte Cristo (ncregister.com)
Date: 11.04.2026