(CNN) – [Pope Emeritus] Benedict also wrote that he believes celibacy carries “great significance” and is “truly essential” as a priest’s path to God becomes the foundation of his life. “The call to follow Jesus is not possible without this sign of freedom and of renunciation of all commitments,” he wrote. “Celibacy must penetrate, with its requirements, all of the attitudes of existence.”
- Retired Pope Distances Himself From Book [From the Depth of Our Hearts by Robert Sarah] Seen as Undercutting Pope Francis on Celibacy (January 14, 2020)
***
Breaking News
Wickylinks Document Release
March 8, 2021
Purported excerpts—vetting for authenticity by Wickylinks is WIP—including margin notes and some edits from early drafts of Pope Emeritus Benedict’s prologue to Robert Sarah’s book (see CNN article above):
***
As a younger man, still contemplating a calling to the life of a religious, I was committed [very committed?] to penetrating as many “attitudes of existence” as I could manage and, though I fear committing the sin of pride here, I penetrated more than my share.
*
Often [very often?] when I felt the vexing call of “all [worldly?] commitments,” I sought privacy and issued forth a series of ejaculations—one after the other after the other—until I would collapse into a blissful heap, relieved of Satan’s torments. Sadly, as I age, I find it difficult to issue more than one ejaculation before having to wait, in prayerful contemplation and meditation [and fervent anticipation?] for my spiritual reserve to replenish in sufficient amounts so that I might issue another.
*
Jovial young men that we were in our seminary days, we would compare our growing “signs of freedom” in the communal showers after waking from a night of earthly dreams, declaring one of us the beholder of “greatest significance” of celibacy for the day.
*
It was not uncommon for me to don a loose-fitting cassock before breakfast so that the local women attending us would not observe the enormity of my “renunciations.”
*
The seminary abbot, an older, portly man, was attuned to our stresses and empathetic to the minds of young, trusting and robust men on the spiritual path. He would call the most miserable of us to his private prayer chambers where he shared the accumulated learnings of his own journey, anointing us with sacred oils [and scented gels and lubricants?] before pounding Satan’s temptations out of us with acts he deemed “truly essential” lest our faith crumble before us and the path to priesthood be blocked.
*
Germany, in those days, was the epicenter of many movements of which I took part joyfully, though—as has been discussed to the point of nausea when I ascended the Papal Throne—some, clearly, I joined under duress or with some measure of naivety. I remember once, after a day of adolescent shenanigans on one of our many Hitler Youth [Boy Scout?] field trips to Berlin—a day in which I have absolutely no recollection and deny any of the malicious charges that plague me whenever the subject comes up—my friends and I changed out of our uniforms (I still favor black and tan when out of church garb)—and visited the salons and bars in the darker corners of the city to preach the words of Der Fuhrer [the Holy Father] in Rome. What remarkable times those were. All sorts of pleasures were made available to us and we accepted them openly and without prejudice of any type. I have so much to be grateful for from those days [mention penicillin here?]. I still think about them in great detail so that I can renounce them, and their concomitant pleasures, with utmost clarity every day until the Lord accepts me into his heavenly domain which I hope is soon, the misery so great.
*
Once, while still but a Cardinal, I found myself in the middle of night—naked and engorged to the point of glorious agony (oh thank you, Lord, for these temptations so that we can renounce them and prove our love for you!)—standing atop, and at the edge, of Saint Peter’s roof overlooking the steps and empty square laid out before me. I looked down upon the strapping forms of two Swiss Guards who stood erect at the Basilica doors, adorned in their glittering, striped finery, their halberds and shiny swords shimmering in the moonlight, seemingly thrust out from their breeches. Enraptured—in the thrall of “celibacy, with its requirements”—I called out my thanks to the Lord for the blessings of an unconsummated life, closed my eyes and stepped one foot out over the abyss below when someone pulled me back from the precipice and gave me quick comfort before disappearing over the dome and into the darkness. It was as if I were back in Berlin. Thank you, dearest Lord, for this gift of celibacy that blesses me every second of every minute of every hour of every day. Thank you, as well, anonymous rescuer, whom I beseech to reveal himself [for who am I to judge? Right Francis? Ha ha] so that I might return the favors provided me on that cool masonry roof.
*
Francis is a good man in his way. Not the guy in The Two Popes, mind you (nor am I, although I thought Anthony Hopkins did a good job with me overall). But nice enough. More Colonel Klink than Hogan, if you know what I mean. The African contingent won’t let him get away with anything too bold, anyway, so I am not unduly worried about any of this.
*
As I reminisce about that rooftop moment on Saint Peter’s so many years ago, I recall a man, Tomas, who worked around the Papal offices. He would nod to me whenever our eyes met and throw me a gentle smile that was somehow familiar. I think of him sometimes and call out his name during my ejaculations which are made the better for it. Alas, we never spoke.
*
I am blessed to have experienced celibacy and to not have experienced it as well. Clearly, this is something that should be on the minds of all who know that a chaste life is the “priest’s” path to God [and] becomes the foundation of his life.” Thank you, Lord, for your forbearance and for those you have sent me in your stead to guide me this way and that.
***