VaticanNews portal reports on the final days of the apostolic journey of Robert Prevost — the individual currently occupying the Vatican under the name “Pope Leo XIV” — across Africa, specifically in Equatorial Guinea. The article describes his visit to the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Mongomo, where he celebrated what is passed off as Mass; his encounter with prisoners in Bata, where he declared that “no one is excluded from God’s love”; and a stadium meeting with young people who danced in the tropical rain. The entire reportage is suffused with the therapeutic, naturalistic, and horizontal spirit of the conciliar sect — a masterclass in the reduction of the Catholic faith to humanitarian sentimentalism, where the supernatural order, the salvation of souls, the reality of sin, and the necessity of repentance are conspicuous by their total absence. The article, dated 22 April 2026, presents this spectacle as though it were a pastoral triumph, when in reality it is yet another public relations exercise by the structures occupying the Vatican — an abomination of desolation performing feel-good theater for the cameras.
The “Basilica” and the Oil: A Church That Blesses Injustice
The article opens with a description of the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception in Mongomo, described as “Africa’s second-largest Catholic church.” Let the reader pause and consider: a basilica built in a country whose obscene wealth — derived from oil discovered in the 1990s — “remained in the hands of a select few,” as the article itself admits without a shred of moral indignation. The conciliar sect celebrates its grandest temples in lands grotesquely marked by inequality, corruption, and the exploitation of the poor, and calls this “evangelization.” The fireworks in the colors of the Equatoguinean flag rising from the colonnade are a perfect symbol: the fusion of the neo-church with the apparatus of a corrupt state, indistinguishable from the civic religion of any secular republic.
Prevost’s homily at this “Mass” — the quotation marks are obligatory, for the Novus Ordo Missae is a Protestantized assembly that obscures the propitiatory sacrifice of Calvary — focused on the “great natural wealth” of Equatorial Guinea and the need to make it “a blessing for all.” This is the language of the United Nations Development Programme, not of the Catholic Church. Where is the call to distributive justice rooted in the virtue of charity? Where is the condemnation of the sin of hoarding wealth while others starve? Where is the reminder that the goods of the earth are meant for all, as Leo XIII taught in Rerum Novarum, and that those who accumulate vast fortunes while the poor perish are guilty of mortal sin? The conciliar sect has replaced the Church’s social doctrine — which is inseparable from her supernatural mission — with the bland, toothless language of “sustainable development” and “shared prosperity” that any secular NGO could endorse.
The article notes that Prevost spoke of a “hunger for a future imbued with hope,” a future “we ourselves are called to build with God’s grace.” This is Pelagianism dressed in pastoral vestments. The Catholic faith teaches that grace is not a supplement to human effort but the absolutely necessary cause of every salutary act, as defined at the Council of Orange (529) and reaffirmed at the Council of Trent. The entire thrust of the conciliar revolution has been to restore the Pelagian heresy under the guise of “the dignity of man” and “co-creatorship with God” — a blasphemous concept condemned by every Pope before 1958.
Prisoners Without Sin: The Annulment of Moral Order
The visit to Bata’s prison is perhaps the most revealing episode. The article describes inmates standing in “neat rows, with shaven heads and jumpsuits whose colour varied according to the crimes for which they been imprisoned.” The article acknowledges that “rights organisations have raised concerns about the treatment of prisoners” — a passing nod to the humanitarian concerns of the world — but the substance of Prevost’s message is the real scandal.
“No one is excluded from God’s love,” he declared. “Each of us, with our unique stories, mistakes and sufferings, remains precious in the Lord’s eyes.”
Let us be precise about what is being said and, more importantly, what is being omitted. It is true that God’s love, in the sense of His antecedent will, extends to all men — God wills all men to be saved (1 Timothy 2:4). But the Catholic faith has always taught, with St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, and the Council of Trent, that God’s salvific will is inseparable from the moral order, from the reality of sin, and from the necessity of repentance. The Church has never taught that a man may persist in mortal sin — in the commission of crimes against God and neighbor — and remain “precious in the Lord’s eyes” without conversion. This is the heresy of universalism, the denial of the reality of hell, and the destruction of the moral law.
Where is the call to repentance? Where is the exhortation to confess one’s sins, to make satisfaction, to amend one’s life? Where is the reminder that unrepentant sinners face eternal damnation? The silence is deafening — and damning. Pius XI, in Quas Primas, taught that Christ the King possesses judicial authority, “as an inseparable part of judgment, is also included the right of the judge to reward and punish men even during their lifetime.” The conciliar sect has abolished this kingship in practice, replacing it with a therapeutic God who loves everyone unconditionally — a God who, by definition, does not judge, does not punish, and does not require repentance. This is not the God of Catholic revelation. This is the god of Modernism, the “religious consciousness” of the human race elevated to the status of deity, as condemned by St. Pius X in Pascendi Dominici Gregis and in the 65 propositions of Lamentabili sane exitu.
The article notes that Prevost called the rain “a sign of God’s blessing,” prompting “raucous cheering.” This is superstition, not theology. The Catholic faith distinguishes sharply between the natural order and the supernatural order; rain is a natural meteorological phenomenon, not a divine sign. To present it as such is to reduce God to a tribal deity who sends weather as a mark of favor — a conception more appropriate to pagan animism than to the Summa Theologica.
Dancing in the Rain: The Liturgy of the New Church
The stadium meeting with young people in Bata is described in terms that would be more appropriate to a music festival than to a religious gathering. “Tens of thousands” gathered, “sang and danced under an intense tropical rainstorm.” Some “ran for cover,” but “others stayed under the torrential rain, dancing together in a large group.” When Prevost appeared, “huge cheers went up not only for the Pope, but also for the locals who came up on stage with him to share stories of their faith and perform traditional dances.”
This is the conciliar liturgy in its purest form: the replacement of the adoration of God with the celebration of man. The Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass — the unbloody renewal of Calvary, the center of all Catholic worship — has been supplanted by singing, dancing, and the sharing of “stories of faith.” Prevost told the young people that “the brightest light here is the one that shines in your eyes, on your faces, in your smiles and through your songs.” This is the cult of man, the worship of the human person, the very essence of the conciliar revolution as codified in Gaudium et Spes — the “Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World” that is, in reality, a pastoral constitution on the modern world’s church.
Where is Christ in this spectacle? Where is the Blessed Sacrament? Where is the call to holiness, to mortification, to the carrying of one’s cross? Prevost encouraged his listeners to “always set an example of harmony among yourselves” and to demonstrate that “the greatest joys, in every situation, come from knowing how to give.” This is the language of a motivational speaker, not of a successor of St. Peter. The greatest joy, according to the Catholic faith, is the Beatific Vision — the face-to-face knowledge of God in eternity. The path to that joy runs through the narrow gate of the Gospel, through repentance, through the sacraments, through the denial of self. It does not run through “harmony” and “giving” in the vague, sentimental sense employed here.
St. Pius X, in Lamentabili, condemned the proposition that “the Church is an enemy of the progress of natural and theological sciences” (prop. 57) and that “contemporary Catholicism cannot be reconciled with true knowledge without transforming it into a certain dogmaless Christianity, that is, into a broad and liberal Protestantism” (prop. 65). The stadium in Bata is the living embodiment of this condemned proposition: a dogmaless, formless, sentimental gathering that could be mistaken for a rally of any syncretistic movement on earth.
The Silence That Condemns
What is absent from this entire reportage is far more significant than what is present. There is no mention of the Most Holy Trinity, of the Incarnation, of the Redemption, of the Real Presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, of the necessity of baptism, of the reality of sin and its eternal consequences, of the obligation of states to submit to the social reign of Christ the King, of the duty of Catholic rulers to govern according to the laws of God, of the existence of hell, of the necessity of the sacrament of confession, of the immortality of the soul, of the Last Judgment.
Pius IX, in the Syllabus of Errors, condemned the proposition that “the Roman Pontiff can, and ought to, reconcile himself, and come to terms with progress, liberalism and modern civilization” (prop. 80). The entire apostolic journey of Robert Prevost across Africa is precisely this reconciliation — the capitulation of the structures occupying the Vatican to the spirit of the age, to the horizontal, naturalistic, humanitarian ethos of modern liberalism. The conciliar sect does not convert the world; it is absorbed by it.
The article closes with the invitation to “subscribe to our daily newsletter” and to make a “contribution for a great mission: support us in bringing the Pope’s words into every home.” This is the language of a media corporation, not of the Church of Jesus Christ. The mission of the Church is not to bring the words of a “pope” into every home; it is to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, to administer the sacraments, to save souls. The substitution of media outreach for the apostolate of preaching and teaching is the final, logical consequence of the conciliar revolution: the Church as content provider, the “pope” as brand ambassador, the faith as product.
Conclusion: The Abomination Continues
The apostolic journey of Robert Prevost to Equatorial Guinea is not an act of Catholic evangelization. It is a public relations exercise by the structures occupying the Vatican — the paramasonic, modernist, conciliar sect that has occupied the chair of Peter since 1958. Every element of the visit — the stadium dancing, the prison sentimentalism, the blessing of oil wealth, the reduction of the faith to “harmony” and “giving” — is a symptom of the systemic apostasy that has consumed the visible Church.
The true Church of Jesus Christ endures — in the faithful who profess the integral Catholic faith, who attend the true Mass of all time, who reject the conciliar revolution in its entirety, and who await the restoration of the social reign of Christ the King over all nations, all peoples, and all aspects of human life. Adveniat regnum tuum — Thy kingdom come. Not the kingdom of dancing, drivel, and criminals, but the kingdom of truth, justice, and supernatural grace.
[The full article content as presented above]
Source:
Day Ten in Africa: Dancing in the rain in Bata (vaticannews.va)
Date: 22.04.2026