The National Catholic Register reports on the emotional aftermath of the Artemis II lunar mission, in which commander Reid Wiseman, describing himself as “not really a religious person,” broke down in tears upon seeing the cross on a Navy chaplain’s collar after splashdown. The article presents this as a spontaneous, authentic encounter with the divine — a moment of transcendence that supposedly validates the spiritual significance of space exploration. Yet beneath this sentimental veneer lies a profound theological void, a naturalistic reduction of the supernatural order, and a telling silence about the only true source of grace and salvation: the Holy Catholic Church and her sacraments. The article’s framing — celebrating a NASA astronaut’s emotional reaction to a chaplain’s collar while ignoring the state of his soul, the validity of his baptism, and the doctrinal content of his faith — is symptomatic of the post-conciliar Church’s capitulation to secular humanism and its replacement of supernatural religion with mere sentimentality.
The Eclipse of Supernatural Faith by Naturalistic Sentimentality
The article recounts Wiseman’s experience of witnessing a solar eclipse from lunar orbit: “The sun eclipsed behind the moon… I turned to Victor and I said I don’t think humanity has evolved to the point of being able to comprehend what we are looking at right now, because it was otherworldly and it was amazing.” This is presented as a quasi-religious epiphany — a moment of awe before the cosmos. Yet what is conspicuously absent is any reference to the Credo, to the God Who created the heavens and the earth, to the Incarnate Word through Whom all things were made (John 1:3). The astronaut gazes upon the works of the Creator and can only muster the language of evolutionary humanism: “humanity has evolved.” This is not faith; it is pantheistic naturalism dressed in the language of wonder — precisely the error condemned by Pope Pius IX in the Syllabus of Errors, Proposition 1: “There exists no Supreme, all-wise, all-provident Divine Being, distinct from the universe, and God is identical with the nature of things.”
The article’s author, Alyssa Murphy, frames this as a spiritual moment: “Yet, after touching the furthest reaches of human travel, their first instinct was to reach for the divine.” But what “divine” is being reached for? There is no mention of Jesus Christ, no mention of the Blessed Sacrament, no mention of the necessity of the Catholic Church for salvation. The “divine” here is an abstraction — a vague, sentimental theism indistinguishable from the natural religion condemned by Pius IX in Qui pluribus (1846). The article reduces the supernatural order to an emotional reaction, a “visceral” response to the sublime. This is the religion of Rousseau, not the religion of St. Thomas Aquinas.
The Cross Without the Church: A Symbol Stripped of Its Saving Power
Wiseman’s tears at the sight of the cross on the chaplain’s collar are presented as the emotional climax of the article: “When that man walked in — I’d never met him before in my life, but I saw the cross on his collar, and I just broke down in tears.” The cross — the instrument of our redemption, the sign of the victory of Christ over death — is reduced to a trigger for emotional catharsis. But the cross saves no one apart from the Church that Christ founded, apart from the sacraments He instituted, apart from the grace that flows through the true priesthood.
The article makes no inquiry into the state of Wiseman’s soul. Was he validly baptized? Is he in the state of grace? Does he profess the integral Catholic faith — the faith of the Nicene Creed, the faith that professes “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church”? These questions are not merely academic; they are the questions that determine eternal salvation. Yet the post-conciliar Church, of which the National Catholic Register is a product, has abandoned the duty to ask them. The Register celebrates an emotional reaction to a symbol while remaining silent about the only thing that matters: whether this man is in communion with the true Church of Christ.
Pius XI, in Quas Primas, taught with unmistakable clarity: “His reign, namely, extends not only to Catholic nations or to those who, by receiving baptism according to law, belong to the Church, even though their erroneous opinions have led them or discord has separated them from love, but His reign encompasses also all non-Christians, so that most truly the entire human race is subject to the authority of Jesus Christ.” The reign of Christ the King is not a sentiment; it is a juridical and theological reality. It demands obedience, profession of faith, and submission to the Church’s authority. The article’s reduction of this reign to an astronaut’s tears is a blasphemous trivialization of the Kingship of Christ.
The Silence About the State of the Church: The Elephant in the Room
The article is dated April 17, 2026. At this point, the See of Peter has been occupied by usurpers for over six decades — from John XXIII through the current antipope, Leo XIV (Robert Prevost). The structures occupying the Vatican are not the Catholic Church; they are, as the evidence overwhelmingly demonstrates, a paramasonic structure that has systematically dismantled the faith, the liturgy, and the sacramental order. The chaplain whose collar bore the cross — was he a validly ordained priest? Was he in communion with the true Church, or with the conciliar sect? The article does not ask, because the Register does not know, or does not care.
This silence is not accidental. It is the defining characteristic of post-conciliar journalism: the systematic omission of the single most important fact of our time — that the Catholic Church has been occupied by enemies of Christ. St. Pius X, in Pascendi Dominici gregis (1907), warned that the Modernists — the “enemies within” — would infiltrate every level of the Church’s life. The Register, by celebrating a NASA chaplain’s cross without questioning the ecclesiastical authority under which he operates, demonstrates that it has fully capitulated to the modernist program. It is a journalistic organ of the neo-church, not of the Catholic Church.
The Cult of Human Achievement vs. the Primacy of the Supernatural
The article celebrates the Artemis II mission as “living history” — a feat “once thought impossible.” The astronauts are presented as heroes who have “touched the furthest reaches of human travel.” This is the religion of human progress, the cult of man that Pius IX condemned in the Syllabus, Proposition 39: “The State, as being the origin and source of all rights, is endowed with a certain right not circumscribed by any limits.” When human achievement becomes the measure of meaning, when space exploration replaces the quest for sanctity, the supernatural order is not merely neglected — it is denied.
The true “otherworldly” experience is not a solar eclipse viewed from a spacecraft; it is the moment of transubstantiation at the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, when the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. The true “amazing” thing is not the far side of the moon; it is the reality of the Real Presence, the miracle of miracles that occurs at every valid celebration of the Holy Mass. The article’s silence about the Mass — the one true source of grace and the center of the Christian life — is the gravest accusation that can be leveled against it.
St. Pius X, in Lamentabili sane exitu, condemned the proposition that “the Church is an enemy of the progress of natural and theological sciences” (Proposition 57). But he also insisted that all knowledge must be ordered toward the supernatural end of man: the vision of God in eternity. The Register’s celebration of space exploration without reference to this end is a betrayal of the integral Catholic vision. It is the spirit of the world masquerading as the spirit of faith.
The Tears That Do Not Save
Wiseman wept at the sight of the cross. But tears are not contrition. Emotion is not faith. A natural reaction to a symbol is not the supernatural virtue of hope. The article presents these tears as evidence of a spiritual awakening, but the Catholic faith teaches that only sanctifying grace, received through the sacraments of the true Church, can save a soul.
The Register would have its readers believe that a NASA astronaut’s emotional breakdown is a moment of grace. But grace is not an emotion; it is a supernatural reality, a participation in the divine life, conferred by Christ through His Church. Without valid baptism, without confession, without the Holy Eucharist, without the profession of the true faith — the tears of Reid Wiseman are as spiritually efficacious as the tears of any pagan before a idol.
The article ends with a prayerful wish: “May the images and video from this mission lead us to do the same.” Lead us to what? To weep before a cross without knowing Whose cross it is? To gaze at the heavens without adoring the God Who made them? To celebrate human achievement while ignoring the divine judgment that awaits every soul? This is not a Catholic conclusion; it is a modernist conclusion — the synthesis of all errors that St. Pius X condemned, dressed in the language of piety.
The true response to the beauty of creation is not tears before a symbol; it is the Te Deum, the act of faith, the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Until the Register — and the structures it serves — returns to the unchanging Tradition of the Catholic Church, its articles will remain what they are: elegant, sentimental, and spiritually bankrupt.
Source:
Artemis II Astronaut ‘Broke Down in Tears’ After Seeing Cross on Chaplain’s Collar (ncregister.com)
Date: 17.04.2026