The Passion leads to the Resurrection - A reflection as the conclave convenes

Transcript from A Shepherd's Voice - May 5, 2025

Welcome back to another episode of A Shepherd’s Voice. This week, as the cardinals of the Church gather in Rome to elect a new pope, the eyes of the world turn once again to the Vatican. For many faithful Catholics, this is not a moment of joy or confidence – but of sorrow, confusion, and fear. The scandals of recent years have shaken trust in the shepherds of the Church. The legacy of the last pontificate has left deep wounds.

The vast majority of the cardinal electors were appointed by Pope Francis, and while we must pray for every one of them, it is no secret that many have expressed or defended ideologies and practices contrary to the perennial Magisterium of the Church. Scandals – both doctrinal and moral – have wounded the Body of Christ, and the silence or complicity of shepherds has led many to lose confidence in the human element of the Church.

This is a deep trial for the faithful. The temptation arises to despair, to detach from the visible Church, or even to treat the Church as if it were merely a political institution, where power struggles take the place of spiritual discernment.

However, as St. Francis de Sales wrote, “The Church is an immortal society: she may be storm-tossed, but she cannot sink” (Treatise on the Love of God, Book 2).

Therefore, in times like this, we see clearly that God permits trials in the Church – not to abandon her, but to purify her.

However, many of the faithful are asking, “How can I hold on to hope in a Church that seems to be crowned with thorns?”

Today’s episode is not about predictions. It’s not about politics. It is about Christ. And it is about His Passion – a Passion that is not only past tense, but ongoing in His Mystical Body, the Church.

Let us begin with the words of St. Paul:

“If we suffer with Him, we shall also reign with Him” (2 Timothy 2:12).

We are not spectators in this conclave. We are participants in a mystery far deeper than votes and ballots. What we are witnessing is not a coronation – but a crucifixion. Not a triumph of man’s power – but the stripping away of human pride.

When our Lord was brought before Pilate, He wore a crown – but not one of gold. He was robed in purple and mocked: “Hail, King of the Jews.” They did not understand what they were doing. Yet in their hatred, they revealed a truth they could not silence: Christ reigns even in suffering.

St. Augustine once wrote:

“The Church progresses on her pilgrimage amidst this world’s persecutions and God’s consolations.”

Right now, the Church is not entering a moment of glory. She is ascending Calvary. And the conclave, for all its ceremony, is not the enthronement of a victorious general. It is the placing of a crown of thorns upon the visible head of Christ’s Body

And still – Christ reigns.

The Passion of the Church does not disprove the truth – it fulfills it.

St. John Chrysostom wrote:

“The floor is not cleansed except by the whirlwind; the grain is not separated from the chaff except by the flail; and the soul is not tried except by tribulation.”

This conclave is a flail. And each of us must decide: Will we remain faithful, even when the face of the Church is bruised and bleeding?

The cardinals may choose poorly. They may elect another who continues the errors, the silence. But their failures do not excuse ours. We must cling to the faith – not sentimentality, not nostalgia, but the true doctrine handed down from the apostles.

“Jesus Christ, yesterday, and today: and the same forever. Be not led away with various and strange doctrines” (Hebrews 13:8-9).

One of the most painful experiences for the faithful is the apparent silence of God in the face of evil. We ask, “Why doesn’t He stop this? Why doesn’t He intervene?” But we forget that Christ was silent, too. Before Pilate, before Herod, before the mob.

“But Jesus held His peace” (Matthew 26:63).

Sometimes, the silence of God is His greatest mercy. It gives us room to choose – to trust, to remain loyal, to grow.

As St. Teresa of Avila said:

“Patience obtains all things. He who has God lacks nothing. God alone suffices.”

God is not absent. He is hidden. And just as Christ was hidden beneath His bruised flesh on Good Friday, so too He is hidden beneath the bruises of His Church today. And yet still He reigns.

What does it mean that Christ reigns in His Passion?

It means that His power is made perfect in weakness. It means the victory of love over violence, of truth over lies. It means that Satan can rage, bishops can betray, and cardinals can fail – but none of it dethrones Christ.

“And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself” (John 12:32).

Lifted up – not on a throne, but on a Cross.

Pope Pius XII wrote:

“The Church, which includes both the divine and the human, remains always the same. Though her human elements may be disfigured by sin, her divine soul remains immaculate.”

When we see Christ crowned with thorns, we do not say He is defeated. We say: Here is our King. And when we see His Church suffering, we must say the same.

This is the paradox of the Christian life. In suffering, there is consolation. In the wounds of Christ, we find our healing. In the crown of thorns, we find the strength to endure. And we, as members of the Church, are called to enter into this mystery.

But the suffering we experience today is not just about enduring trials with silent resignation. It’s about standing firm in the truth – uncompromising, unyielding, and resolute in our love for Christ and His Church. It’s about witnessing to the world that even in darkness, Christ is the Light. Even in defeat, Christ is victorious.

This leads us to another reflection, and that is, the Martyrdom of Fidelity.

It is the martyrdom of fidelity to the truth, even when the world, the culture, and even the Church herself seem to be swaying in the winds of compromise.

St. Thomas More, who was beheaded for refusing to accept King Henry VIII’s break with the Church, knew that fidelity to the truth was a costly thing. Yet, he did not shrink back from it, even when faced with death. He wrote, just before his execution:

“I die the King’s faithful servant, but God’s first.”

His words are a powerful reminder that, even when everything seems to be falling apart around us, we must remain faithful to the truth of Christ, regardless of the consequences. This is not a call to defy the pope or reject the Church, but rather to hold fast to what has been revealed to us, to refuse to bow before falsehood or injustice, and to remain steadfast in the face of persecution, ridicule, or isolation.

In our time, many of us feel like we are being asked to endure a similar martyrdom – a martyrdom of the heart. We are asked to choose between standing with the truth or standing with the tide of popular opinion. We are called to decide whether we will hold firm in our Catholic identity or succumb to the pressures of a world that no longer shares our values.

St. John Paul II once said:

“Do not be afraid. Open, I say open wide the doors to Christ.”

This is the call we must answer today. We must open the doors of our hearts wide to Christ, even if those doors lead us through a path of suffering.

Therefore, as we reflect on the passion and suffering of the Church, it is important to remember that our hope is not in human leaders, but in Christ alone. The election of a pope is important, but it does not determine the fate of the Church. Christ is the Head of the Church, and He will never abandon His Bride. Even if men fail, God will provide what is needed for the Church’s preservation.

In his encyclical Caritas in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI wrote:

“In Christ, the new Adam, the victory of love over sin and death is already won, and this victory will be definitively manifest at the end of history.”

This is our hope. Christ has already won the victory, and we are called to participate in that victory through our fidelity to Him. This is a victory that transcends human politics, power struggles, or corruption. It is a victory that is rooted in the eternal truth of God’s love for His Church.

So as the Conclave unfolds, remember that no matter the outcome, Christ remains on His throne.

However, in these trying times, you might ask - what are we called to do?

The first answer is prayer. Now more than ever, we must intercede for the Church, for the cardinals, and for the whole world. We must pray that God’s will be done in the Conclave, and that His truth and justice will be upheld.

Second, do not be scandalized. Evil in the Church is real – but it is not new. Judas was an apostle. The High Priest tore his garments. Peter denied. The Sanhedrin lied.

Third, stand firm. Do not run. Stay with Christ and His Church.

Fourth, speak truth with love. Charity is not silence in the face of sin. But neither is it rage without mercy. Let your witness be bold, but also peaceful.

Finally, hope.

“But they that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength: they shall take wings as eagles: they shall run and not be weary: they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31).

Remember, we are not waiting for a man to save us. We are waiting for the Lord.

The conclave may place a crown on the head of a new pope – but the true King already reigns. He reigns from the Cross. He reigns in the Holy Eucharist. He reigns in every soul that refuses to bow to falsehood.

And His crown is not made of gold, but of thorns.

It is true that we are facing an uncertain and difficult conclave, but the Church has been through darkness before. The history of the Church is not tidy. There were times when error spread, when corruption reached even the papal throne, when saints were exiled, martyred, silenced.

The Arian heresy overtook nearly the whole Church. Most bishops – yes, most bishops – professed a heretical understanding of Christ. St. Athanasius was one of the few who held fast. He was exiled, threatened, lied about. And yet – he stood firm. Why? Because he had faith. He trusted the promise: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Not: “the gates of hell will never attack.” No – they are always attacking. But they will not prevail.

But through it all, the true faith remained – preserved in the hearts of the faithful, in the teaching of the Church, and in the unbroken promise of Our Lord.

This is not a time to pretend. This is a time to watch and pray. To weep, yes – but not without hope. Because our hope is not in men. Our hope is in Jesus Christ, who reigns over His Church even when her stewards are unfaithful.

And that’s why your faith matters today. You may feel like your voice is lost in a sea of noise. But if you hold the faith – if you stay true to what the Church has always taught, what the saints have always believed – you are not alone. You are part of the unbroken thread stretching from the upper room in Jerusalem to this very day.

“But the just live by faith: but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him” (Hebrews 10:38).

May the grace of God strengthen you to hold the line. May His Holy Spirit inspire you to stay firm in these times of trial. And may Our Lady, the Immaculate Conception, protect and guide you as you walk this path, faithful to Christ to the end.

Thank you for listening to A Shepherd’s Voice. May God bless you, and may we remain united in the fight for truth.

And always, ALWAYS - remember this - The Passion leads to the Resurrection.