In Jorge Bergoglio’s lexicon, the words love and peace are vacant of meaning. Love dwindles down to nice feelings; peace shrinks to an ostrich-like refusal to acknowledge encroaching peril. On the flight back to Rome from Fatima, our shepherd delivered this reversal of reality to the court press:
An atheist said to me: “I am an atheist”; he didn’t say what nationality he was or where he came from. He spoke in English, so I couldn’t tell and I didn’t ask him. Continue Reading
