The National Register portal reports on an exchange between a young woman named Desirée and the antipope Leo XIV during a vigil in Barcelona (June 9, 2026), where she asked how to forgive her father and reconcile with God after childhood trauma. The response from the usurper on Peter’s throne—and the commentary by Greg Popcak—reveals the complete theological bankruptcy of the conciliar sect: it replaces the supernatural order with naturalistic psychologism, denies the reality of original sin, and offers the Holy Spirit as a self-help coach rather than the Sanctifier who justifies souls through grace.
A Trauma Narrative Devoid of Supernatural Truth
The article presents Desirée’s harrowing story: her father attempted to kill her mother, a bystander was murdered in her defense, her mother descended into addiction, and she was raised in state care before being baptized into the post-conciliar sect. Her anguished cry—“Where were you?”—is not merely personal; it is the existential scream of every soul wounded by the consequences of original sin. Yet neither the antipope nor the commentator addresses this foundational dogma. Instead, they offer a diluted, therapeutic deism masquerading as Catholic teaching.
Pope Leo XIV’s reply—“We cannot attribute to God what has been entrusted to our responsibility”—is a half-truth wrapped in modernist evasion. While it is correct that human free will bears moral culpability for evil acts, the statement omits the most essential truth: all suffering enters the world through the Fall of Adam. As the Catechism of the Council of Trent teaches, “By one man sin entered into the world, and by sin death; and so death passed upon all men, in whom all have sinned” (Romans 5:12). To speak of human responsibility without affirming the ontological rupture caused by original sin is to preach a gospel without the Cross.
Forgiveness Redefined: From Supernatural Virtue to Psychological Technique
The article reduces forgiveness to a “decision to surrender our desire for revenge,” citing St. Augustine and John Paul II—but only selectively. What it omits is that forgiveness is a supernatural virtue, impossible without sanctifying grace. The Council of Trent (Session VI, Chapter 7) declares: “If any one saith that the justice received is not preserved and also increased before God through good works… let him be anathema.” Forgiveness is not a human achievement; it is a fruit of justification, itself a gratuitous gift of God (Trent, Session VI, Canon 1).
Moreover, the article dangerously conflates forgiveness with reconciliation, suggesting one can forgive while refusing relationship—even when the offender remains unrepentant or dangerous. While prudence may dictate physical separation, the Church has always taught that charity demands we will the good of the sinner, including his conversion. As Our Lord commanded: “Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you” (Matthew 5:44). The article’s framing implies that emotional safety supersedes the supernatural obligation of fraternal correction and intercession—a hallmark of the neo-church’s anthropocentric inversion.
“Forgiving God”: Blasphemy Disguised as Pastoral Sensitivity
The most egregious error lies in the very title: “How Can I Forgive… God?” This phrase is not merely imprecise—it is blasphemous. God, being infinitely holy, just, and merciful, is incapable of offending man. To suggest that man must “forgive” God is to imply divine injustice, which contradicts the very nature of God as revealed in Scripture: “God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5). The Council of Trent (Session VI, Chapter 14) anathematizes anyone who says that God commands impossibilities: “If any one saith that man can be justified before God by his own works… without the grace of God through Jesus Christ… let him be anathema.”
Yet the article treats this blasphemous premise as a legitimate pastoral question. Greg Popcak writes: “How can I reconcile with God when the things I have suffered cause me to feel that he abandoned me—or worse.” The “or worse” hangs ominously, implying that God might be complicit in evil. This is the fruit of the modernist heresy condemned in Pascendi Dominici Gregis (1907), which St. Pius X identified as “the synthesis of all heresies”: the reduction of faith to subjective religious experience, detached from objective truth.
Theology of the Body as Gnostic Escape from the Cross
Popcak invokes John Paul II’s “Theology of the Body” to argue that our expectation of a pain-free life is an “ancient, collectively unconscious memory” of Eden. This is not Catholic doctrine—it is Gnostic mythology dressed in theological language. The Church has never taught that suffering is an illusion to be overcome by recovering primordial consciousness. Rather, suffering is the just penalty for sin, and the Cross is the only remedy.
Pius XI, in Quas Primas (1925), proclaimed that Christ’s kingdom is “opposed only to the kingdom of Satan and the powers of darkness,” and that His followers must “deny themselves and carry their cross.” The article, by contrast, presents suffering as a problem to be solved by “unleashing the power of good” through human virtue and psychological resilience. This is Pelagianism repackaged: salvation through self-effort, not grace.
The Holy Spirit as Inner Voice, Not Sanctifier
The article claims: “That isn’t our voice (even if it sounds like us). It’s the voice of the Holy Spirit calling us out of despair and promising healing.” But this is not how the Church understands the Holy Spirit’s action. The Third Person of the Blessed Trinity does not merely whisper encouragement; He sanctifies, justifies, and deifies. As the Athanasian Creed states: “The Holy Spirit is not made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding from the Father and the Son… who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified.”
To reduce the Holy Spirit to an inner therapeutic voice is to deny His divinity and His sacramental action. The true Church teaches that the Holy Spirit operates through the sacraments—especially Baptism, Confession, and the Most Holy Eucharist—not through vague interior promptings. The article’s silence on the sacraments is deafening: no mention of Confession for the father, no call to Eucharistic adoration, no exhortation to pray the Rosary for the conversion of sinners. Instead, we get “More2Life Radio” and “CatholicCounselors.com”—the apostolate of naturalism.
The Church Militant Abandoned
The article briefly acknowledges that “Catholics call the Church on earth, ‘The Church Militant,’” but immediately reduces this to a metaphor for psychological struggle. In reality, the Church Militant is the visible society of the baptized waging war against the world, the flesh, and the devil under the banner of Christ the King. Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King precisely to combat the laicism and secularism that now permeate every utterance from the Vatican usurpers.
Yet Leo XIV offers no call to spiritual combat, no mention of mortal sin, no warning about hell, no invitation to the sacraments. His message is pure naturalism: “God does not desire suffering; he bears it with us and invites us to trust in him perseveringly.” This is the language of a Unitarian minister, not the Vicar of Christ—because there is no Vicar of Christ in Rome today.
Conclusion: The Abomination of Desolation Speaks
The exchange between Desirée and Leo XIV is not a moment of pastoral care—it is a microcosm of the conciliar apostasy. A soul cries out in agony, and the response is psychology, not the Gospel. The Cross is replaced by self-esteem. Original sin is erased. The Holy Spirit becomes a life coach. And the antipope, seated on the throne of Peter, offers not the Bread of Life but the stones of humanistic counseling.
Let the faithful remember: there is no forgiveness without repentance, no reconciliation without grace, and no peace without the true Church. The structures occupying the Vatican are not that Church. They are the abomination of desolation (Matthew 24:15), and their words—however soothing—lead only to spiritual death.
Source:
How Can I Forgive… God? (ncregister.com)
Date: 12.06.2026