Bishop Jean-Marc Micas of Tarbes and Lourdes. (Credit: Courtney Mares/CNA)
Lourdes, France, Feb 5, 2024 / 06:00 am (CNA).
The bishop of Lourdes says that he has received a “pile of letters” from Catholics all over the world as he considers whether to remove the shrine’s mosaics by alleged abuser Father Marko Rupnik.
Bishop Jean-Marc Micas of Tarbes and Lourdes told CNA that he hopes to make a decision by this spring. The bishop formed a special commission last year to determine the future of the Rupnik mosaics.
“This occupies my mind, my prayer, and my heart every day, especially when I meet victims of abuse,” Micas said.
In an interview at the bishop’s residence in Lourdes, Micas acknowledged that, for him, this is a “very, very difficult decision to make.”
“But I have to make it,” he added.
Mosaics by alleged abuser Father Marko Rupnik are displayed at the shrine in Lourdes, France. Credit: Courtney Mares/CNA
Since forming the commission, Micas has met with victims of abuse, heard from sacred art specialists, and consulted with experts from across France who make up the commission.
“And we’ve received letters, letters, a pile of letters — people very angry because the mosaics are still there and other people who were very angry at the idea we could remove them,” he said.
The bishop shared how he was inspired to form the commission after a conversation he had with a woman from England who had served as a volunteer in Lourdes for many years, aiding the sick who come to wash in the baths seeking healing.
“She told me … ‘I met many, many women who come to Lourdes in order to ask for special healing after abuse. And they come to the Immaculate Conception to be cured, to be healed, to find consolation.’”
The woman went on to describe how the architecture of Lourdes’ Basilica of the Immaculate Conception with its grand entrance of two large curving ramps on either side of “Rosary Square” was meant to convey “‘the arms of the Immaculate Conception embracing her children.’”
“‘And now, for me, for them, the arms are not the arms of the Immaculate Conception. They are the arms of Father Rupnik.’”
Mosaics by alleged abuser Father Marko Rupnik are displayed at the shrine in Lourdes, France. Credit: Courtney Mares/CNA
This encounter left an impression on the bishop and the rector of the Lourdes sanctuary, and shortly thereafter Micas decided to form the commission on Rupnik’s mosaics in March 2023.
Approaching the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes with its soaring spires, it is hard to miss the 21st-century addition by Rupnik’s mosaic school, Centro Aletti, to the facade of the lower basilica. Rupnik’s wide-eyed figures are set against bright gold backdrops in a marked contrast with the shrine’s neo-Gothic stone facade.
The original basilica was built at the request of the Virgin Mary during the 13th apparition to St. Bernadette Soubirous in the Lourdes’ Grotto in 1858: “Go and tell the priests to build a chapel here and that people should come in procession.”
The Rupnik mosaics, added in 2008, depict the luminous mysteries of the rosary with the “Wedding Feast at Cana” in the center. Rupnik’s signature red dot decorates one of the arched panels above the entrance.
Mosaics by alleged abuser Father Marko Rupnik are displayed at the shrine in Lourdes, France. Credit: Courtney Mares/CNA
Rupnik, a priest and artist, has been accused of spiritual, psychological, and sexual abuse of religious sisters. He was removed from the Jesuits last June, and the Vatican has announced that Rupnik will face a canonical process over the abuse allegations after Pope Francis decided to waive the statute of limitations on the claims.
The priest’s prolific art career that followed his alleged abuse has created a problem for many shrines and Catholic churches across Europe and North America. Rupnik’s workshop has accounted for projects for more than 200 liturgical spaces around the world, including Fatima, the Vatican, the John Paul II shrine in Washington, D.C., and the tomb of St. Padre Pio.
Some have argued that to remove Rupnik’s art would be a manifestation of “cancel culture” and point to the work of Renaissance artists with scandalous personal lives. Others highlight the allegations that the accused priest convinced religious sisters to commit sins with him by persuading them that sinful acts would worship God and ask if his sacred art might likewise be imbued with and communicate “a false Gospel.”
For Lourdes, the problem is felt acutely as the Marian shrine is known throughout the world as a place of healing and consolation, and in this unique role should be a privileged place for abuse victims seeking healing. The French bishops have underscored this by gathering in Lourdes to pray and fast for victims of abuse.
Bishop Micas is aware that many other Catholic shrines and churches that also contain Rupnik’s mosaics may be looking to Lourdes to see what he decides.
“I very often say that the decision we will make here is made for Lourdes and only for Lourdes,” he said.
“It cannot be extended to any other place where there are mosaics of Rupnik’s because Lourdes is Lourdes and it is for weak people, sick people, special people. And we have to serve the message of Lourdes, whatever the cost.”
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Maureen McKinley milks one of her family’s goats in their backyard with help from three of her children, Madeline (behind), Fiona and Augustine on Monday, Aug. 2, 2021. McKinley and her family own two goats, chickens, a rabbit, and a dog. / Jake Kelly
Denver Newsroom, Aug 10, 2021 / 16:32 pm (CNA).
With five children ages 10 and under to care for, and a pair of goats, a rabbit, chickens and a dog to tend to, Maureen and Matt McKinley rely on a structured routine to keep their busy lives on track.
Chores, nap times, scheduled story hours – they’re all important staples of their day. But the center of the McKinleys’ routine, what focuses their family life and strengthens their Catholic faith, they say, is the Traditional Latin Mass.
Its beauty, reverence, and timelessness connect them to a rich liturgical legacy that dates back centuries.
“This is the Mass that made so many saints throughout time,” observes Maureen, 36, a parishioner at Mater Misericordiæ Catholic Church in Phoenix.
“You know what Mass St. Alphonsus Ligouri, St. Therese, St. Teresa of Avila and St. Augustine were attending? The Traditional Latin Mass,” Maureen says.
“We could have a conversation about it, and we would have all experienced the exact same thing,” she says. “That’s exciting.”
Recent developments in the Catholic Church, however, have curbed some of that excitement. On July 16, Pope Francis released a motu proprio titled Traditiones custodis, or “Guardians of the Tradition”, that has cast doubt on the future of the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) – and deeply upset and confused many of its devotees.
Pope Francis’ directive rescinds the freedom Pope Benedict XVI granted to priests 14 years ago to say Masses using the Roman Missal of 1962, the form of liturgy prior to Vatican II, without first seeking their bishop’s approval. Under the new rules, bishops now have the “exclusive competence” to decide where, when, and whether the TLM can be said in their dioceses.
In a letter accompanying the motu proprio, Pope Francis maintains that the faculties granted to priests by his predecessor have been “exploited to widen the gaps, reinforce the divergences, and encourage disagreements that injure the Church, block her path, and expose her to the peril of division.”
Using the word “unity” a total of 15 times in the accompanying letter, the pope suggests that attending the TLM is anything but unifying, going so far as to correlate a strong personal preference for such masses with a rejection of Vatican II.
Weeks later, many admirers of the “extraordinary” form of the Roman rite – the McKinleys among them – are still struggling to wrap their minds and hearts around the pope’s order, and the pointed tone he used to deliver it.
Maureen McKinley says she had never considered herself a “traditionalist Catholic” before. Instead, she says she and her husband have just “always moved toward the most reverent way to worship and the best way to teach our children.”
“It didn’t feel like I became a particular type of Catholic by going to Mater Misericordiæ. But since the motu proprio came out, I feel like I have been categorized, like I was something different, something other than the rest of the Church,” she says.
“It feels like our Holy Father doesn’t understand this whole group of people who love our Lord so much.”
McKinley isn’t alone in feeling this way. Sadness, anger, frustration, and disbelief are some common themes in conversations among those who regularly attend the TLM.
They want to understand and support the Holy Father, but they also see the restriction as unnecessary, especially when plenty of other more pressing issues in the Church abound.
Eric Matthews, another Mater Misericordiæ parishioner, views the new restrictions as an “attack on devout Catholic culture,” citing the beauty that exists across the rites recognized within the Church. There are seven rites recognized in the Catholic Church: Latin, Byzantine, Alexandrian or Coptic, Syriac, Armenian, Maronite, and Chaldean.
“It’s the same Mass,” says Matthews, 39, who first discovered the TLM about eight years ago. “It’s just different languages, different cultures, but the people that you have there are there for the right reasons.”
Eric and Geneva Matthews with their four children. / Narissa Lowicki
Different paths to the TLM
The pope’s motu proprio directly affects a tiny fraction of U.S. Catholics – perhaps as few as 150,000, or less than 1 percent of some 21 million regular Mass-goers, according to some estimates. According to one crowd-sourced database, only about 700 venues – compared to over 16,700 parishes nationwide – offer the TLM.
Also, since the motu proprio’s release July 16, only a handful of bishops have stopped the TLM in their dioceses. Of those bishops who have made public responses, most are allowing the Masses to continue as before – in some cases because they see no evidence of disunity, and in others because they need more time to study the issue.
But for those who feel drawn to the TLM – for differing reasons that have nothing to do with a rejection of Vatican II – it feels as if the ground has shifted under their feet.
Maureen McKinley wants her children to understand the importance of hard work, of which they have no shortage when it comes to their urban farm. After morning prayer, Maureen milks the family’s goats with the help of the children. Madeline (age 10) feeds the bunny; Augustine (7) exercises the dog; John (6) checks for eggs from the chickens; and Michael (4) helps anyone he chooses.
With a noisy clatter in the kitchen, the McKinleys eat breakfast, tidy up their rooms, and begin their daily activities. They break at 11 a.m. to head to daily Mass at Mater Misericordiæ, an apostolate of the Priestly Fraternity of Saint Peter (FSSP), where they first attended two years ago.
Matt, 34, wanted to know how the early Christians worshipped.
“The funny thing about converts is they’re always wanting more,” says Maureen, who was, at first, a little resistant to the idea of attending the TLM because she didn’t know Latin. “Worship was a big part of his conversion.”
Maureen agreed to follow her husband’s lead, and they continued to attend the TLM. What kept them coming back week after week was the reverence for the Eucharist.
“Matt had a really hard time watching so many people receive communion in the hand at the other parish,” says Maureen. “He says he didn’t want our kids to think that that was the standard. That’s the exception to the rule, not the rule.”
Reverence in worship also drew Elizabeth Sisk to the TLM. A 28-year-old post-anesthesia care unit nurse, she attends both the Novus Ordo, the Mass promulgated by St. Paul VI in 1969, and the extraordinary form in Raleigh, North Carolina, where her parish, the Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral, offers the TLM on the first Sunday of the month.
Sisk has noticed recently that more people in her area — especially young people who are converts to Catholicism — are attending both forms of the Mass. While the Novus Ordo is what brought many of them, herself included, to the faith, she feels that the extraordinary form invites them to go deeper.
“We want to do something radical with our lives,” Sisk says. “To be Catholic right now as a young person is a really radical decision. I think the people who choose to be Catholic right now, we’re all in. We don’t want ‘watered-down’ Catholicism.”
Elizabeth Sisk stands in front of Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral in Raleigh, North Carolina.
With the lack of Christian values in the world today, Sisk desires “something greater,” which she says she can tell is happening in the TLM.
Many TLM parishes saw an increase in attendance during the pandemic, as they were often the only churches open while many others shut their doors or held Masses outside. This struck some as controversial, if not disobedient to the local government. For others, it was a saving grace to have access to the sacraments.
The priests at Erin Hanson’s parish obtained permission from the local bishop to celebrate Mass all day, every day, with 10 parishioners at a time during the height of the COVID pandemic.
“We were being told by the world that church is not necessary,” says Hanson, a 39-year-old mother of three. “Our priest says, ‘No, that’s a lie. Our church is essential. Our salvation is essential. The sacraments are essential.’”
Andy Stevens, 52, came into the Church through the TLM, much to the surprise of his wife, Emma, who had been a practicing Catholic for many years. Andy was “very adamantly not going to become Catholic,” but was happy to help Emma with their children at Mass. It wasn’t until they attended a TLM that Andy began to think differently about the Church.
“He believed that you die and then there is nothing, and he never really spoke to me about becoming a Catholic,” says Emma, 48, who was pregnant with their seventh child at the time.
Andy noticed an intense focus among the worshippers, which he recognized as a “real presence of God” that he didn’t see anywhere else. After the birth of their 7th child, he joined the Church.
All 12 of the Stevens’ children prefer the TLM to the Novus Ordo.
Emma and Andy Stevens with their 12 children in Oxford, England.
“It’s a Mass of the ages,” says their eldest son, Ryan, 27. “I can feel the veil between heaven and earth palpably thinner.”
A native of Chicago, Adriel Gonzalez, 33, remembers attending the TLM as a child, which he did not particularly like. It was “very long, very boring,” and the people who went to the TLM were “very stiff and they could come off as judgmental” towards his family, he says.
Gonzalez, who also attended Mass in Spanish with his family, didn’t understand the differences among rites, since Chicago was a sort of “salad bowl, ethnically,” he says, and Mass was celebrated in many languages and forms.
He took a step back from faith for some time, he says, noting that he had a “respectability issue” with the Christianity he grew up with. He watched as some of his friends were either thoughtless in the way they practiced their faith, or were “on fire,” but lacked intentionality. When he did come back to the faith, it was through learning about the Church’s intellectual tradition.
He spent time in monasteries and Eastern Catholic parishes with the Divine Liturgy because there was “something so obviously ancient about it.” He decided to stay within the Roman rite with a preference for a reverent Novus Ordo.
When he moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, Gonzalez committed to his neighborhood parish, which had a strong contingent of people who loved tradition in general. The parish instituted a TLM in the fall of 2020, when they started having Mass indoors again after the pandemic.
Hallie and Adriel Gonzalez.
“If I’m at a Latin Mass, I’m more likely to get a sense that this is a time-honored practice, something that has been honed over the millennia,” he says. “There is clearly a love affair going on here with the Lord that requires this much more elaborate song and dance.”
For Eric Matthews, the TLM feels a little like time travel.
“It could be medieval times, it could be the enlightenment period, it could be the early 1900s, and the experience is going to be so similar,” he says.
“I just feel like that’s that universal timeframe – not just the universal Church in 2021 – but the universal Church in almost any time period. We’re the only church that can claim that.”
What happens now?
The motu proprio caught Adriel Gonzalez’ attention. He sought clarity about whether his participation in the extraordinary form was, in fact, part of a divisive movement, or simply an expression of his faith.
If it was a movement, he wanted no part of it, he says.
“As far as I can tell, the Church considers the extraordinary form and the ordinary form equal and valid,” says Gonzalez. “Ideally, there should be no true difference between going to one or the other, outside of just preference. It shouldn’t constitute a completely different reality within Catholicism.”
With this understanding, Gonzalez says he resonated with some of the reasoning set forth in the motu proprio because it articulated that the celebration of the TLM was never intended to be a movement away from the Novus Ordo or Vatican II. Gonzalez also emphasized that the extraordinary form was never supposed to be a “superior” way of celebrating the Mass.
Gonzalez believes the Lord allowed the growth in the TLM “to help us to recover a love for liturgy, and to ask questions about what worship and liturgy looks like.” He would have preferred if what was good was kept and encouraged, and what was potentially dangerous “coaxed out and called out.”
Mater Misericordæ Catholic Church in Phoenix, Arizona. / Viet Truong
Erin Hanson, of Mater Misericordiæ, agrees.
“If [Pope Francis] does believe there is division between Novus Ordo and traditional Catholics, I don’t think he did anything to try to fix that division,” she says.
Hanson would like to know who the bishops are that Pope Francis consulted in making this decision, sharing that she doesn’t feel that there is any of the transparency needed for such a major document. If there are divisions, she says, she would like the opportunity to work on them in a different way.
“This isn’t going to be any less divisive if he causes a possible schism,” Hanson says.
According to the motu proprio and the accompanying letter, the TLM is not to be celebrated in diocesan churches or in new churches constructed for the purpose of the TLM, nor should new groups be established by the bishops. Left out of their parish churches, some are worried their only option to attend Mass will be in a recreation center or hotel ballroom.
Eric Matthews hopes that everyone is able to experience the extraordinary form at least once in their life so they can know that this is not about division.
“I can’t imagine someone going to the Latin Mass and saying, ‘This is creating disunity,’” he says. “There’s nothing to be afraid of with the Latin Mass. You’re just going to be surrounding yourself with people that really take it to heart.”
Maureen McKinley was home sick when her husband Matt found out about the motu proprio. He had taken the kids to a neighborhood park, where he ran into some friends who also attend Mater Misericordiæ. They asked if he had heard the news.
“I felt disgust at a document that pretends to say so much while actually saying so little and disregards the Church’s very long and rich tradition of careful legal documents,” Matt McKinley says.
Bishop Thomas Olmsted of Phoenix stated that the TLM may continue at Mater Misericordiæ, as well as in chapels, oratories, mission churches, non-parochial churches, and at seven other parishes in the diocese. Participation in the TLM and all of the activities of the parish are so important to the McKinleys that they are willing to move to another state or city should further restrictions be implemented.
For now, their family’s routine continues the same as before.
At the end of their day, the McKinleys pray a family rosary in front of their home altar, which has a Bible at the center, and an icon of Christ and a statue of the Virgin Mary. They eat dinner together, milk the goat again, and take care of their evening animal chores. After night prayer, the kids head off to bed, blessing themselves with holy water from the fonts mounted on the wall before they enter their bedroom.
“The life of the Church springs from this Mass,” Maureen says. “That’s why we’re here—not because the Latin Mass is archaic, but that it’s actually just so alive.”
Classroom in a Catholic school. / Wuttichai jantarak/Shutterstock
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12 Comments
The good bishop appears to be bidding his time in the hope that this will blow over.
There is no reason to maintain the display of these grossly deficient derivative images executed by Marko Rupnik. His work is nothing but pedestrian confection produced by a perverted fraud.
This situation highlights a few problems in the Church among many. Inadequate understanding of what constitutes legitimate and masterful liturgical art, a willingness to turn the back to the reality of mortal unbelief in the Mystical Body, and the propensity to excuse the inexcusable for a spectrum of rationalizations.
None of this will be resolved until we cease to provide credence to bold fraudulence.
Rip these pedestrian derivative images the facade of the shrine. Perhaps it will provide Fatima the intestinal fortitude to do the same where the Basilica of the Holy Trinity is defaced by the same fraudulence. I witnessed it long before Rupnik’s hidden story was publicized. His imagination and execution is simply inauthentic.
The Rupnik artifacts are clip-art-icons of a morally deceitful fraud enterprise, run by a sociopath sex abuser.
They are a perfect distillation of “the-contemporary-iconoclast-anti-christ-church-built-by-frauds-like-McCarrick.”
They communicate the “wind-swept-soul” of the monied mediocrity of the post-Christian-katholik zombie-church-establishment.
Given the above, I am not surprised at all that this particular Bishop of Lourdes, and I am regret to admit, most Bishops, are finding it very difficult to let go of the Rupnik artifacts.
A beautiful hymn heard on Sunday can help us make the “WWJD” decision:
“In Him there is no darkness at all.”
Pack ‘em up…and gift them to the doorway over every single Jez college campus and seminary, under the assumption that “art-Rupnik” is a fitting adornment for “the-Jez-culture.”
Terrible as Rupnik is the far bigger disgrace and affront to the faithful is the disturbing fact that Lourdes a place where miracles of healing are said to take place no longer, since covid allows people to bath in the miraculous waters. You can wash your face and hands but full immersion is out. Apparently just as the superbug knew the difference between a scotch egg and pizza it can also differentiate between legs and arms.
Rupnik’s soulless faces, vacant eyes reflect his own interior. The sooner Bishop Micas stops wringing his hands and tears the monstrosities down the better for all including himself.
I do not evaluate the worth of a book by the life of its author. When I admire a painting, I do not first think of the painter and how (s)he spent their life when they were not painting. For me, it is first and foremost about the art itself.
I do not think of an artist’s life when I look at his painting either.
However, Rupnic’s art does not belong to a category of a secular art where a successful self-expression of an artist is all that counts, his personal conduct being unimportant. Because Rupnic’s art is in the Church it is called “sacred” or “ecclesial” art or “icons”. “Ecclesial” means that the art within the church’s walls belongs to all faithful. The Christian sacred art expresses the Church’s understanding of God, it is “theology in colours”. Its major function is to lift a soul to God and to aid a prayer. This is how the function of the sacred art was defined by the Seventh Ecumenical Council which is binding for the Roman Catholics as much as it is binding for the Eastern Orthodox.
An artist who works for the Church has a grave responsibility:
– to be a good theologian not to twist the faith in his images;
– to have humility to surrender to God and forget about an unrestrained self-expression;
– to try to live as pure a life as possible because his work demands the help of the Holy Spirit.
Basically, an iconographer in his work is a slave to God. It is a work which demands extreme self-denial.
Does Rupnic fit those categories and description? Does his art speak of pure Love of Christ for a soul? Does it induce peace and contemplation? Does it help to develop an attachment to Our Lord?
I am aware of the fact that the Western Church lost a concept of an iconographer and sacred art long ago. One can refresh his memory via googling “western medieval art”. For true Christian mosaics, google “Ravenna Mosaics” and observe the spirit there. The works of Rupnic are the best evaluated next to the examples of the true ecclesial art.
And thank you for your second comment relaying the story of Rupnik’s destruction of true iconography, to make way for what can very fairly be called his “diabolical-graphics.”
And I am appalled (but not in the least surprised) that the Church establishment granted authority to Rupnik to destroy the iconography of Kornoukhiv.
The “diabolical-Rupnik-iconoclast-kraft-works” are a testament to the delusions of our contemporary-katholik-establishment, who, being seduced by the “spirit-of-Rupnik,” are revealed to be themselves bereft of Christian culture.
It sounds as if you subscribe to Oscar Wilde’s idea that life imitates art far more than art imitates life. Rupnik’s art belies his life. Vacuous, banal, simple, and stupid.
OTOH, Jesus said: Let your yes be yes and your no mean no. The productions originating from our mouths as well as from our hands betray the inner workings of one’s mind, thought, heart, and soul.
The bishop of Lourdes should tear down the ‘art.’ He should recommend the confessional to Rupnik; as penance, Rupnik could be asked to refund whatever he charged for the forgeries he pawned as art representing holy figures of History and the Beloved and True Faith.
Rupnik wouldn’t know holy if it gobsmacked and whisked him to heaven.
I will add something relevant here. I am an iconographer yet I did not know about the following event. More than two decades ago Pope John Paul II, who was very keen to bring the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches together, commissioned an Orthodox iconographer Alexander Kornoukhov (well-known in Russia) to make mosaics for his personal chapel ‘Redemptoris Mater’. Not then so well-known Rupnic was already in his studio in Rome so he overseed the organizational stuff there. Kornoukhov worked for two years and completed the altar wall with a ceiling and was in the process of doing other three walls when Rupnic ordered the demolition of his mosaics. Only one survived. Rupnic then used that space for his own art which is still there.
Now one can see in ‘Redemptoris Mater’ an odd combination, of a “cut out” from the environment mosaic ‘Heavenly Jerusalem’ by Kornoukhov surrounded by quite diabolical Rupnic’s stuff.
I am at loss with the sheer evil here. One may like or dislike the work of an Orthodox artist but there is no question that it conveys light and awe and faith. I personally like it very much and I am glad I discovered it.
So, Rupnic apparently not only “killed” the souls of the Sisters and blasphemed, he also killed the true art.
What cuts me most though is that Rupnic was permitted to do so.
The good bishop appears to be bidding his time in the hope that this will blow over.
There is no reason to maintain the display of these grossly deficient derivative images executed by Marko Rupnik. His work is nothing but pedestrian confection produced by a perverted fraud.
This situation highlights a few problems in the Church among many. Inadequate understanding of what constitutes legitimate and masterful liturgical art, a willingness to turn the back to the reality of mortal unbelief in the Mystical Body, and the propensity to excuse the inexcusable for a spectrum of rationalizations.
None of this will be resolved until we cease to provide credence to bold fraudulence.
Rip these pedestrian derivative images the facade of the shrine. Perhaps it will provide Fatima the intestinal fortitude to do the same where the Basilica of the Holy Trinity is defaced by the same fraudulence. I witnessed it long before Rupnik’s hidden story was publicized. His imagination and execution is simply inauthentic.
Rupnik’s grotesque, empty-eyed “art” reveals the huge void within the man’s soul.
How can this be a “difficult” decision?
It’s the biggest non-brainer ever. Good vs. evil — those are the choices.
If our Church’s leaders aren’t able to discern the right path here — which any five-year-old child could tell you — then what hope is there for us?
This bishop needs until the Spring to make his decision to remove Rupnik’s “art”? This exemplifies what’s wrong with so many of our Church leaders.
The Rupnik artifacts are clip-art-icons of a morally deceitful fraud enterprise, run by a sociopath sex abuser.
They are a perfect distillation of “the-contemporary-iconoclast-anti-christ-church-built-by-frauds-like-McCarrick.”
They communicate the “wind-swept-soul” of the monied mediocrity of the post-Christian-katholik zombie-church-establishment.
Given the above, I am not surprised at all that this particular Bishop of Lourdes, and I am regret to admit, most Bishops, are finding it very difficult to let go of the Rupnik artifacts.
A beautiful hymn heard on Sunday can help us make the “WWJD” decision:
“In Him there is no darkness at all.”
Pack ‘em up…and gift them to the doorway over every single Jez college campus and seminary, under the assumption that “art-Rupnik” is a fitting adornment for “the-Jez-culture.”
Terrible as Rupnik is the far bigger disgrace and affront to the faithful is the disturbing fact that Lourdes a place where miracles of healing are said to take place no longer, since covid allows people to bath in the miraculous waters. You can wash your face and hands but full immersion is out. Apparently just as the superbug knew the difference between a scotch egg and pizza it can also differentiate between legs and arms.
Rupnik’s soulless faces, vacant eyes reflect his own interior. The sooner Bishop Micas stops wringing his hands and tears the monstrosities down the better for all including himself.
I do not evaluate the worth of a book by the life of its author. When I admire a painting, I do not first think of the painter and how (s)he spent their life when they were not painting. For me, it is first and foremost about the art itself.
I do not think of an artist’s life when I look at his painting either.
However, Rupnic’s art does not belong to a category of a secular art where a successful self-expression of an artist is all that counts, his personal conduct being unimportant. Because Rupnic’s art is in the Church it is called “sacred” or “ecclesial” art or “icons”. “Ecclesial” means that the art within the church’s walls belongs to all faithful. The Christian sacred art expresses the Church’s understanding of God, it is “theology in colours”. Its major function is to lift a soul to God and to aid a prayer. This is how the function of the sacred art was defined by the Seventh Ecumenical Council which is binding for the Roman Catholics as much as it is binding for the Eastern Orthodox.
An artist who works for the Church has a grave responsibility:
– to be a good theologian not to twist the faith in his images;
– to have humility to surrender to God and forget about an unrestrained self-expression;
– to try to live as pure a life as possible because his work demands the help of the Holy Spirit.
Basically, an iconographer in his work is a slave to God. It is a work which demands extreme self-denial.
Does Rupnic fit those categories and description? Does his art speak of pure Love of Christ for a soul? Does it induce peace and contemplation? Does it help to develop an attachment to Our Lord?
I am aware of the fact that the Western Church lost a concept of an iconographer and sacred art long ago. One can refresh his memory via googling “western medieval art”. For true Christian mosaics, google “Ravenna Mosaics” and observe the spirit there. The works of Rupnic are the best evaluated next to the examples of the true ecclesial art.
Well said Anna. Thank you.
And thank you for your second comment relaying the story of Rupnik’s destruction of true iconography, to make way for what can very fairly be called his “diabolical-graphics.”
And I am appalled (but not in the least surprised) that the Church establishment granted authority to Rupnik to destroy the iconography of Kornoukhiv.
The “diabolical-Rupnik-iconoclast-kraft-works” are a testament to the delusions of our contemporary-katholik-establishment, who, being seduced by the “spirit-of-Rupnik,” are revealed to be themselves bereft of Christian culture.
It sounds as if you subscribe to Oscar Wilde’s idea that life imitates art far more than art imitates life. Rupnik’s art belies his life. Vacuous, banal, simple, and stupid.
OTOH, Jesus said: Let your yes be yes and your no mean no. The productions originating from our mouths as well as from our hands betray the inner workings of one’s mind, thought, heart, and soul.
The bishop of Lourdes should tear down the ‘art.’ He should recommend the confessional to Rupnik; as penance, Rupnik could be asked to refund whatever he charged for the forgeries he pawned as art representing holy figures of History and the Beloved and True Faith.
Rupnik wouldn’t know holy if it gobsmacked and whisked him to heaven.
I will add something relevant here. I am an iconographer yet I did not know about the following event. More than two decades ago Pope John Paul II, who was very keen to bring the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches together, commissioned an Orthodox iconographer Alexander Kornoukhov (well-known in Russia) to make mosaics for his personal chapel ‘Redemptoris Mater’. Not then so well-known Rupnic was already in his studio in Rome so he overseed the organizational stuff there. Kornoukhov worked for two years and completed the altar wall with a ceiling and was in the process of doing other three walls when Rupnic ordered the demolition of his mosaics. Only one survived. Rupnic then used that space for his own art which is still there.
Now one can see in ‘Redemptoris Mater’ an odd combination, of a “cut out” from the environment mosaic ‘Heavenly Jerusalem’ by Kornoukhov surrounded by quite diabolical Rupnic’s stuff.
After completing ‘Redemptoris Mater’ a career of Rupnic reportedly took off. The interested can see the image of Christ Pantocrator in the ceiling by Kornoukhov (left) that was demolished with Rupnic’s work (right):
https://wiez.pl/2023/03/22/dzielo-jako-slad-duchowosci-autora-na-marginesie-sprawy-marko-rupnika/
This is the work of Kornoukhov before a demolition
https://www.kornoukhov.com/kopiya-1996-1997-karaganda-dk-nemce
I am at loss with the sheer evil here. One may like or dislike the work of an Orthodox artist but there is no question that it conveys light and awe and faith. I personally like it very much and I am glad I discovered it.
So, Rupnic apparently not only “killed” the souls of the Sisters and blasphemed, he also killed the true art.
What cuts me most though is that Rupnic was permitted to do so.