My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, 

We gather today at a time when the earth trembles beneath the weight of sin, and the heavens seem to cry with the groaning of creation. The very Bride of Christ – the Holy Catholic Church – is being torn and battered, not only by the world, but by those within her walls who should be her guardians. 

We must speak plainly. The wolves are not at the door – they are in the sanctuary. And we cannot whisper while they devour the flock. We must say with sorrow, but with truth, that even the voice of Peter has been muted. We honor the office of the pope, but we cannot deny the facts: under Pope Francis grave errors were unleashed – the blessing of same-sex unions, the scandalous claim that every religion is a path to God, the assault on the Mass of the Ages. And under Pope Leo XIV, these errors remain uncorrected. 

If we do not speak, if we do not resist, if we do not cleave to Christ and His Mother, then we will be swept away by a tidal wave of lies. 

Pope St. Pius X once thundered, “In our time more than ever before, the chief strength of the wicked lies in the cowardice and weakness of good men.” That is a sword to my own heart. Bishops, priests, fathers of families, mothers of children – if we remain timid, if we pray for comfort, then we share in the guilt. 

But thanks be to God, Christ has given us a Mother. Thanks be to God, He has raised up pillars to uphold His Church. Thanks be to God, that although the storm rages, the ark still floats – and the ark will reach its shore.

St. John Bosco was given a vision of a ship battered on every side, nearly capsizing under the waves of persecution and heresy. But it was anchored and secured when it was fastened to two mighty pillars rising from the sea: on one, the Most Holy Eucharist; on the other, the Immaculate Virgin Mary. Brothers and sisters, these are the pillars of our faith. 

The Eucharist – Jesus Christ truly present, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity – is the beating Heart of the Church. And Our Lady, the Immaculate Mother, is the sure refuge who guides us to Him. If we cling to these two, we will survive. If we abandon them, we will sink. 

And so today, as we begin, I ask you: are you ready to stand upon these pillars of faith? Are you ready to take refuge in Our Lady’s mantle? Are you ready to live or to die for Christ, because nothing less will do.  

I have been asked to talk today on this topic: “Pillar of Faith: Our Lady’s Vital Role in Our Spiritual Survival.” 

From the beginning, this battle line was drawn. In Genesis, after the fall, God spoke directly to the serpent: “I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel” (Genesis 3:15). The war of the ages is not just between Christ and the devil, but also between the Woman and the serpent. That Women is Our Lady. 

At the Cross, when the Church seemed to collapse in fear, she stood. St. John records with power: “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother … ” (John 19:25). When Peter had denied, when Judas had betrayed, when nearly all the apostles had fled, Our Lady stood as the last visible pillar of faith. And there, Christ entrusted her to us. “When Jesus therefore had seen his mother and the disciple standing whom he loved, he saith to his mother: Woman, behold thy son. After that, he saith to the disciple: Behold thy mother … ” (John 19:26-27). 

Pope Pius XII, in the dark years after World War II declared, “ … We put great confidence in the Holy Rosary for the healing of evils which afflict our times.” He called the Rosary a chain that binds the devil and a shield that guards the faithful. If it was true in his day, how much more in ours? 

At Fatima, Our Lady warned that if her requests were not heeded, Russia would spread its errors, and nations would be annihilated. Who can deny that her prophecy has unfolded before our very eyes? And yet, she also promised: “In the end, my Immaculate Heart will triumph.” That is not a gentle metaphor – it is a military victory. 

The devil rages because he knows his head will be crushed by a Woman’s heel. And brothers and sisters, that means if we cling to her, the victory is ours. But if we set her aside, if we treat devotion to Mary as optional, if we imagine that the battle can be fought by strategy and cleverness alone, then we will fall. 

Remember St. John Bosco’s vision: the ship could not survive by its own timbers or by the skill of its captain. It was only secured when tied to the two pillars: the Eucharist, and the Blessed Virgin. That dream is not a children’s tale. It is a roadmap for our time.  

To cling to Mary is to cling to survival. To take up the Rosary is to put a weapon in your hand. To consecrate yourself to her Immaculate Heart is to place your soul in the safest refuge the Lord has given on earth. Because she is not only the Mother of Our Lord – she is the Mother of the Church, and the Mother of every faithful soul who must endure the storm. 

As the Canticle of Canticles proclaims: “Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?” (Canticle of Canticles 6:9). That is Our Lady – gentle in mercy, terrible in battle. And that is why the devil fears her more than any general, any council, or any pope. He fears her, because God has ordained that through her heel, the serpent’s head will be crushed.  

My brothers and sisters, if we speak of pillars and survival, we must first speak of the storm. Because no man seeks shelter unless he knows the hurricane is real. No soldier takes up his sword unless he knows the enemy is advancing. 

And let us be clear: the enemy IS advancing. The devil has entered the walls. The Church is bleeding not only because of the assaults of the world, but because of the betrayal of those entrusted with her care. 

St. Paul warned us: “For there shall be a time, when they will not endure sound doctrine; but, according to their own desires, they will heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And will indeed turn away their hearing from the truth, but will be turned unto fables” (2 Timothy 4:3-4). That time is not in the distant future. It is now. 

Look at the reality before us: 

• Synodality has become a mask for doctrinal distortion. Instead of handing on the faith once delivered to the saints, there is an “anti-catechism” being written in real time. 

• At the very dicastery meant to guard the faith, Cardinal Victor Manuel Fernandez presides – a man who has openly promoted error and remains uncorrected. 

• Fr. James Martin continues to scandalize souls, preaching rebellion against God’s law on sexuality, and yet he is praised instead of rebuked. 

• Meanwhile, the Mass of the Ages – the Traditional Latin Mass that formed saints for centuries – is suppressed, restricted, and despised, as though it were a threat rather than the lifeblood of the Church. 

• And now, Cardinal Blasé Cupich orders that an award be given to Senator Dick Durbin – a man who for decades has championed abortion, who Bishop Paprocki rightly declared was not to receive the Eucharist. Instead of discipline, he is honored. Instead of correction, he is rewarded. This is not mercy; this is betrayal. 

Shall we pretend this is normal? Shall we call silence prudence when it is cowardice? The world is not confused about what this means. They see shepherds honoring abortionists, blessing sin, and suppressing the faith of our fathers. And the world concludes: the Church has changed. But truth does not change. The faith once delivered to the saints cannot be edited by synods or compromised by silence.  

Pope St. Pius X thundered these words more than a century ago: “The greatest obstacle in the apostolate of the Church is the timidity, or rather the cowardice, of the faithful.” 

Modernism has not died, it has metastasized. It is dressed in pastoral language. It is wrapped in synodal processes. It claims to listen, while it whispers the ancient lie: “You shall not surely die” (Genesis 3:4). 

So many shepherds have lost their courage. They do not wield the staff; they wave a white flag. They do not guard the flock; they open the gate. They do not silence wolves, they invite them to speak. 

Pope Pius XII diagnosed our time with chilling accuracy when he said, “The sin of the century is the loss of the sense of sin.” When sin is excused, when heresy is tolerated, when truth is negotiated, then the Church ceases to be light and becomes smoke. 

But let us be clear: Christ has not abandoned His Bride. He is testing her. He is purifying her. He is dividing cowardice from courage, truth from falsehood, the wheat from the chaff. 

We cannot be neutral. To be silent in the face of this storm is to side with the storm. To look away while the Mass is suppressed, while the deposit of faith is twisted, while souls are led astray, is to share in the guilt. 

The prophet Ezechiel heard the word of the Lord: “Son of man, I have made thee a watchman to the house of Israel: and thou shalt hear the word out of my mouth, and shalt tell it them from me” (Ezechiel 3:17). That is our duty. To be watchmen. To cry out. To warn the people of danger even if they will not listen. 

So I say to you with a shepherd’s heart but a soldier’s voice: do not be deceived. Do not be lulled. Do not let your children or grandchildren be fed poison while you remain silent. We must resist error – not with hatred, but with clarity; not with violence, but with truth; not with compromise, but with faith. 

If we cling to the pillars, we will stand. If we tie ourselves to the Eucharist and to Our Lady, the ship will not sink, no matter how fierce the tempest. But if we let go, we will be swept away.  

God has not left us without a weapon, nor without a Mother. The darker the night, the brighter her light must shine. 

St. Louis de Montfort foresaw this with piercing clarity. He said, “Mary must shine forth more than ever in mercy, in might, and in grace in these later times.”  He spoke of her as the one who would raise up apostles of the last days. He said, “They will become, in Mary’s  powerful hands, like sharp arrows, with which she will transfix her enemies. …  They will be like thunder-clouds flying through the air at the slightest breath of the Holy Spirit. “ 

Do we not see that time upon us now? When the shepherds fall silent, Our Lady raises up apostles. When the faith is mocked, she trains her children to fight with the Word of God as a two-edged sword. These are not pious dreams – they are marching orders. 

My friends, the question before us is not simply: What is wrong? The deeper question is: How do we survive? How do we remain faithful in the midst of betrayal, confusion, and apostasy? 

Survival is not found in strategy or politics. Survival is not secured by blending in or by keeping quiet. Our survival is only in Christ. And Christ gives us the means – the weapons, the shelter, the lifeline – through His Church. 

First and above all, the Holy Eucharist. St. Paul declares: “For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink the chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord, until he come” (I Corinthians 11:26). In every Mass, the sacrifice of Calvary is made present. In every consecrated Host, the living Christ is with us – Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. To abandon the Eucharist is to abandon life itself. 

St. John Bosco saw it in his dream: the ship of the Church was steadied only when anchored to the pillar of the Eucharist. This is why the devil hates the Mass, and why the world mocks our belief in the Real Presence. That is why the ancient liturgy is suppressed. Because the enemy knows that if we are tied to the Eucharist, we cannot be sunk. 

The second pillar, Our Lady, is inseparable from the first. She gave the world the Bread of Life. She is the Ark of the New Covenant, who carried the Word made Flesh in her womb. And she continues to point us to Him with the same words she spoke at Cana: “ … Whatsoever he shall say to you, do ye” (John 2:5). 

This is why the Rosary is not a string of beads – it is a chain that binds the devil. Pope Pius XI said with clarity: “The Rosary is a powerful weapon to put the demons to flight and to keep oneself from sin … If you desire peace in your hearts, in your homes, and in your country, assemble each evening to recite the Rosary.” The weapon has already been placed in our hands. The only question is whether we will wield it. 

But survival also requires reparation. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is wounded by blasphemy, by sacrilege, by indifference. And Our Lady of Fatima asked us directly: “Do you wish to offer yourselves to God to endure all the sufferings that He may be pleased to send you, as both an act of reparation for the sins with which He is offended and an act of supplication for the conversion of sinners?” 

To survive, we must not only avoid sin ourselves, but offer our prayers, sacrifices, and sufferings to repair the damage caused by others. 

This is the mission of the apostolate in which I serve as Spiritual Director, Pillars of Faith. It is not a political movement, not a think tank nor a social club. It is an ark for souls in the storm – a place where we tie ourselves to the two pillars of the Eucharist and Mary. It is a call to stand, to watch, to pray, to repair. 

Our spiritual survival depends on choosing the harder path. It demands courage – not the loud courage of human pride, but the humble courage of faith. 

St. Peter warns us: “Be sober and watch: because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour” (I Peter 5:8). The lion is roaring louder than ever. But if we resist – tied to the Eucharist, shielded by Our Lady, armed with the Rosary, sustained by reparation – then we will not be devoured. 

Brothers and sisters, survival is not passive. It is a fight. It is vigilance in the night, fasting when the world feasts, and speaking truth when the world lies. But we are not alone. The Church may be battered, but she is not abandoned. The storm may rage, but Christ is still in the boat. And His Mother is still at His side.  

My dear brothers and sisters, we have named the storm, we have named the pillars, and we have named the weapons of survival. Now comes the question: will we stand, or will we fall? 

Christ Himself has promised: “ … Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18). Those words are not a pious slogan – they are a battle cry. The gates of hell will not prevail. But hear me well: the promise is not that the gates will not attack, but that they will not prevail. And they are attacking. 

This is why we must be clear-eyed, fearless, and faithful. The Eucharist is our anchor. Mary is our refuge. The Rosary is our weapon. Reparation is our shield. These are not options. They are survival. 

St. Louis de Montfort declared: “When Mary has struck her roots in a soul, she produces there marvels of grace, which she alone can produce, because she alone is the fruitful Virgin who never has had, and never will have, her equal in purity and in fruitfulness.” Let us be that soil. Let us allow her to strike her roots deep in us, so that in the day of battle, she bears fruit for Christ. 

The storm will not end tomorrow. The betrayals will not vanish with a snap of the fingers. But neither will the pillars fall. Neither will the gates prevail. Neither will Our Lady fail in the mission God has entrusted to her. 

Brothers and sisters, let us stand as watchmen on the walls. For too long, too many voices have fallen silent. I cannot. I will not. By God’s grace and under Our Lady’s mantle, I pledge to speak with fire and with truth – not as my choice, but as my duty. If this voice burns, let it burn. If it is rejected, let it be rejected.  

But let it never be said that when the faith was betrayed, we were silent. Let it never be said that when wolves prowled in shepherd’s clothing, we folded our hands. Let it never be said that when Christ was mocked, we chose comfort over courage. 

No! Let it be said that we stood!  Let it be said that we fought!  Let it be said that we clung to the Eucharist and Our Lady with a grip that would not break, even if the world collapsed around us!  

The storm is fierce, but it is not final. The night is dark, but the dawn is coming. The Cross is heavy, but the Resurrection is sure. And so we fight on. We march beneath the banner of Christ the King, and we take shelter beneath the mantle of His Mother. We fight not with hatred, but with holiness. We fight not with compromise, but with conviction. We fight not with human strength, but with the fire of the Holy Ghost. 

And when history is written, when heaven’s story is told, when the trumpet of judgment sounds, may it be said that we did not flinch. May it be said that we were watchmen who cried out in the night until the dawn broke. For the final word is not the serpent’s hiss – it is the cry of the Woman: “Fiat! Be it done!” And the final crown is not for the betrayers of truth, but for those who loved Christ unto the end. 

Brothers and sisters, tie yourselves to the pillars. Cling to the Eucharist. Take refuge in Our Lady. Lift high the Rosary. Offer reparation with your lives. And march forward with courage, until the trumpet sounds, and the Immaculate Heart shines in victory. 

Let us live and, if need be, let us die upon these two pillars – the Eucharist and the Blessed Virgin Mary. 

For the final word belongs to heaven, not to hell. The final triumph belongs to the Woman, not the serpent. The final crown belongs to Christ the King, not the powers of this world. And if we are faithful, that triumph, that crown, that victory, will also be ours. 

“Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?” (Canticle of Canticles 6:9). That is Our Lady. That is our hope. That is our survival. 

So let us tie ourselves to the pillars. Let us not waver. Let us not fall. And let us march forward with courage, until the trumpet sounds and the Immaculate Heart of Mary shines in victory. 

Bishop Joseph E. Strickland 

Bishop Emeritus