A young man called Francis, before the town of Assisi, threw off his clothes, renounced riches and the paternity of his earthly father and entrusted himself to his Bishop, to whom he presented himself naked.
Nowadays, sorrowfully, it is Bishops who are naked, and men and women, young and old, who must remind them to clothe themselves in Christ.
Over the years on this blog I have offered some commentary on Pope Francis and his bizarre, scandalous and increasingly diabolical pontificate. Of late, I have tried to keep it light, trying to offer some comic relief on the papacy arranged meticulously in a conference room in Hell. Later still, I stopped blogging, mostly due to time constraints, domestic and work commitments. Before I stopped blogging, I was confident enough in my own limited knowledge of the Church to offer some insights into what I thought had gone wrong in the time since 13 March 2013.
Reasons for the catastrophe I offered over the time were varied, from the election of a 'mad Pope' to the election of an apostate Bishop to the Papacy, to someone who was elected Pope but who resisted the Truth and simply taught his own beliefs instead. Who hasn't thought, 'Oh, he's a Jesuit, what could anyone expect?' Did I say these things explicitly? Some yes, others I expect not, because with this situat…