Domain: tiger-web1.srvr.media3.us User Profile: BrohanDavey | TigerDroppings.com
Favorite team:LSU 
Location:The Land Down Under
Biography:Duke of the Republic of West Florida
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Occupation:Legal Stuff
Number of Posts:783
Registered on:10/28/2018
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quote:

Yes. But government has no soul.

God's appeal to Constantine was to Constantine personally.


Allow me to break this down for you:

That line sounds clever, but it collapses the moment you remember what the Church actually teaches about authority.

Start here: yes—individual rulers have souls. But it does not follow that their exercise of authority is somehow spiritually neutral or sealed off from God.

1. Authority itself is accountable to God—not just the man holding it.

Scripture doesn’t treat government like a soulless machine operating outside morality:
- “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.” — Romans 13:1
- “For he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute his wrath on the wrongdoer.” — Romans 13:4

Those passages say that rulers/government authorities are “God’s servants” (d???????) for justice—not private individuals on a personal spirituality track.

If authority is instituted by God, then its exercise is morally judged by Him. You don’t get to hide behind “the state has no soul” while wielding power that affects millions of souls.

2. The Church has always addressed rulers as rulers.

The Church didn’t just whisper into ears—it corrected, guided, and sometimes rebuked political authority in its public capacity:
- Edict of Milan — Constantine the Great didn’t just “personally convert.” He used imperial authority to end persecution of Christians across the empire. That’s not private piety—that’s governance ordered (however imperfectly) toward justice.
- Ambrose of Milan vs. Theodosius I — Ambrose barred him from Communion after a massacre until he repented as emperor. Why? Because his public acts as ruler were morally culpable before God.

So no—the Church doesn’t treat political power like a spiritually irrelevant zone.

3. “Government has no soul” is a dodge.

Of course a state isn’t a human being imbued with a soul. That’s obvious—and irrelevant.

A corporation doesn’t have a soul either.

That doesn’t mean its actions are morally neutral or beyond judgment.

Government is an instrument wielded by persons. Its laws and actions are moral acts because they are chosen by moral agents.

So when the Church speaks to “nations,” she’s doing exactly what Christ commanded: forming consciences at every level where human decisions affect salvation.

4. Christ’s kingship isn’t limited to private life.

If Christ is Lord only of private conscience, He’s not really Lord.

“And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’” — Matthew 28:18

“All authority” includes political authority.

The idea that rulers can wall off their public decisions from Christ is basically a baptized version of secularism.
quote:

Does the gospel teach how to protect and enable pedophiles?


That’s a textbook straw man—and a lazy one at that.

No one said “the Gospel teaches how to protect criminals.” The claim was that the Church tries to live out the Gospel. You responded by swapping that with “the Gospel enables pedophiles,” which is a completely different (and obviously absurd) claim.

By that logic, any failure by any member of an institution invalidates the institution’s principles. That’s nonsense.

If a judge takes a bribe, does that mean the law itself teaches corruption?

If a cop commits a crime, does that mean the law promotes crime?

Of course not. It means a person violated the very standards they were supposed to uphold.

Same thing here. The Gospel—preached by Jesus Christ—calls for holiness, justice, protection of the innocent, and severe judgment for those who harm children (see Matthew 18:6). When clergy commit abuse, they’re not “following” the Gospel—they’re betraying it.

So no—the Gospel doesn’t enable evil. People who do evil in spite of it are the problem.

And reducing the Church that Christ founded and its 2,000-year tradition to the worst actions of individuals isn’t just wrong—it’s intellectually sloppy.
quote:

Yes, and Jesus did not preach to governments, political authorities or institutions. His message is for humans with souls. A Pope should also only message individuals. God did not direct his message to the Roman Empire, he directed it to an individual, Constantine.


That argument kind of collapses under its own weight once you bring up Constantine the Great.

If the claim is that Christ’s message is only for private individuals and never for rulers or institutions, then why is the one example you cite…the Roman Emperor himself?

Constantine wasn’t just “an individual with a soul” in the abstract—he was the head of the Roman state, and his conversion had massive public, legal, and institutional consequences (see the Edict of Milan). Catholicism went from persecuted to protected because a ruler responded to the Gospel as a ruler.

So you can’t have it both ways:
1) Either rulers are outside the scope of the Gospel, in which case Constantine is irrelevant; or
2) Rulers are accountable to the Gospel, in which case the Church absolutely can speak to governments and public life

Also, the premise itself is shaky. Christ didn’t avoid political authority:
1) He directly addressed Pontius Pilate about truth and kingship (John 18:33–37)
2) He spoke about Caesar and civic obligations (Matthew 22:21)
3) And His Church, from the beginning, engaged the public order (see St. Paul the Apostle appealing to Roman law and authority)

Bottom line: Christianity is directed to persons, yes—but persons don’t stop being moral agents when they hold office. A ruler is still accountable to God in how he governs, not just in his private life.

So saying “a Pope should only message individuals” ignores both history and basic logic. The Church speaks to souls—including the souls of those running nations.
Pope Leo XIV isn’t just "dabbling in politics" when he addresses President Trump’s tweets or actions regarding Iran; he is fulfilling the fundamental moral mandate of the Petrine office. As the Vicar of Christ, the Pope’s primary duty is to be a prophetic voice for the "Gospel of Peace," which transcends national borders and election cycles. Catholic Social Teaching, particularly the Just War Theory, strictly forbids the kind of "total war" rhetoric—such as threats to eradicate civilizations or target civilian infrastructure—that has appeared in recent social media posts. For a Pope, especially the first American one, to remain silent in the face of rhetoric that risks the lives of millions of innocents would be a dereliction of his duty to protect the "human family" and uphold the sanctity of life.

Furthermore, the Church’s authority to speak on these matters is rooted in the belief that the moral law applies to all human actions, including statecraft and international diplomacy. When Pope Leo calls for an "off-ramp" or labels certain threats as "truly unacceptable," he is applying the Catechism’s requirement that the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. By challenging the "delusion of omnipotence" and focusing on the common good, he is acting not as a partisan operative, but as a shepherd reminding world leaders that they are ultimately accountable to a higher moral standard. In the Catholic view, peace isn't just the absence of war, but the "tranquillity of order," and it is well within the Pope’s rights—and indeed his job description—to point out when modern rhetoric threatens to shatter that order.

To build on that, we have to look at the crucial theological distinction between preemptive and preventative war, which is where the moral "line in the sand" is drawn for the Church.

From a traditional Catholic viewpoint, a preemptive strike is a tragic but potentially justifiable response to an imminent and certain attack—essentially, the enemy’s sword is already mid-swing, and you move to parry. In contrast, preventative war—attacking a nation simply to stop a potential threat that might develop years down the road—is categorically rejected by Just War Theory. The Catechism requires that for a war to be "just," the damage inflicted by the aggressor must be lasting, grave, and certain. Striking someone because they might one day become a threat fails the test of "certainty" and violates the principle of "last resort." 

This brings us to the President’s recent rhetoric. If, as the President himself has claimed, Iran has already lost its nuclear capabilities, then the primary justification for military intervention effectively evaporates. If the "threat" is no longer imminent or even developing, there is no "just cause" for the U.S. to maintain a combat presence or threaten further strikes. From Pope Leo's perspective, continuing to push for war when the stated danger has been neutralized isn't "defense"—it's an act of aggression that risks millions of lives for no moral end. By pointing this out, the Pope is simply holding the President to the logic of his own claims, reminding the world that if the peace can be kept, it must be kept.
quote:

Superboy? DC gonna be pissed.


Speaking of, the latest Marvel/DC crossover “Spider-Man/Superman no. 1” just dropped today to commemorate the 50th anniversary of “Superman vs. The Amazing Spider-Man,” the first-ever Marvel/DC crossover. The latest issue has 26 variant covers.
The Society of Jesus, founded in 1540 by St. Ignatius of Loyola, began as one of the most disciplined and intellectually formidable forces in the Catholic Church, especially during the Counter- Reformation. The Jesuits were known for their rigorous education, strict orthodoxy, and unwavering loyalty to the pope, quickly becoming leaders in theology, philosophy, and global missionary work, with figures like Matteo Ricci in China exemplifying their reach and influence.

However, their growing power and independence made them enemies among European monarchs, leading to their suppression in 1773 by Pope Clement XIV, largely due to political pressure. Although the order was restored in 1814, this disruption marked a turning point in their institutional identity.

In the modern era, particularly after the Second Vatican Council, the Jesuits underwent a noticeable shift in emphasis. While they remained committed to education and intellectual life, many within the order began prioritizing social justice, engagement with contemporary culture, and political realities, especially in the developing world. This gave rise to movements like liberation theology in Latin America, where some Jesuits focused heavily on advocating for the poor and confronting systemic injustice. To their supporters, this represented a faithful application of the Gospel to modern conditions; to critics, especially more traditional Catholics, it signaled a drift away from doctrinal clarity and a move toward progressive or even politicized interpretations of the faith.

Today, the Jesuits remain one of the most influential orders in the Church, but also one of the most debated. That tension is embodied in the papacy of Pope Francis, whose leadership reflects many Jesuit priorities such as mercy, pastoral outreach, and concern for the marginalized. For some, this confirms that the Jesuits are continuing their historic mission in a new context; for others, it raises concerns about whether the order has moved too far from its original role as a defender of orthodoxy. In that sense, when people ask “what happened to the Jesuits,” they are usually reacting not to a disappearance, but to a transformation—from the Church’s most disciplined doctrinal force into one of its most prominent and sometimes controversial voices in the modern world.

More specifically, and with that background information in hand, after the Second Vatican Council, many Jesuit institutions—especially universities in the United States—leaned more heavily into academic engagement with modern culture, social issues, and open inquiry. Jesuit schools historically prized intellectual rigor and dialogue, and over time that has often translated, in practice, into allowing a wider range of viewpoints and course topics than you might find in more tightly controlled Catholic settings. So when you hear about classes discussing subjects like pornography, gender, or sexuality, the schools themselves would typically frame that as analysis (philosophical, psychological, sociological, or ethical), not endorsement.

That said, the criticism you’re raising is very real and widely debated within the Church. Many faithful Catholics argue that some Jesuit universities have gone beyond neutral academic discussion and are tolerating—or even promoting—ideas that conflict with Catholic moral teaching, particularly on sexuality. They see this as a downstream effect of the Jesuits’ broader post–Vatican II emphasis on engagement with contemporary culture, which in their view sometimes comes at the expense of clarity about sin and moral doctrine. From that perspective, allowing professors who openly dissent from Church teaching to shape curricula can create confusion, especially for those students who expect a distinctly Catholic formation.

On the other side, administrators and many Jesuits argue that a university setting is not a seminary and must allow serious examination of difficult or controversial topics. They would say that confronting issues like pornography in an academic context can actually deepen moral understanding, equip students to engage the real world, and ultimately strengthen—not weaken—faith when done properly. They also point to the Church’s long intellectual tradition, where difficult questions are studied rather than avoided.

So the tension really comes down to how a Catholic university should balance two goods: fidelity to Church teaching and genuine academic freedom. Critics believe some Jesuit schools have tipped too far toward the latter; defenders believe that open inquiry is part of their mission. That debate—more than any single class or professor—is what people are reacting to when they connect “what happened to the Jesuits” with controversial teaching in Jesuit colleges today.

TL;DR:

After the Second Vatican Council, many Jesuit universities in the U.S. leaned harder into academic freedom and engaging modern culture. That means they’ll allow classes on controversial topics (like pornography or sexuality) as subjects of study, not necessarily endorsement.
Ranch dressing and sour cream.
quote:

She didn’t know he was married and he tried to control her but she refused. She’s a strong, independent woman.


Ah yes—the classic “I’m a victim, I’m a survivor, and conveniently I’m also now an author.” Give it six months and we’ll get a hardcover titled Kiss Cam, Crisis & Clarity: My Journey Through Corporate Trauma—complete with a foreword about boundaries, a chapter on “healing,” and a book tour sponsored by Pinot Grigio and book clubs in gated subdivisions.

She’s so full of shite, but hey…you can’t waste a perfectly good PR pivot.
So do the Protestants that love Zionism and subscribe wholesale to everything that the modern nation-state of Israel does still think this is some kind of faith-based alliance, or are people finally seeing it’s just politics dressed up as religion?

re: Motta/Giles Trial

Posted by BrohanDavey on 3/20/26 at 1:15 pm to
quote:

Too nice of a body to be in jail and she has a kid.


That’s a flattering picture of her. I saw her at a conference last year, and she was as big as a house. And I mean BIG.

2026 - Vanessa Motta Walking Into Court

Appears that she’s on the Ozempic, unless she managed to lose 70 lbs in a year, which is doable, possibly even due to stress, but unlikely. Probably bossing up for life after disbarment.
That analogy only works if you flatten everything into a cartoon.

The issue people are raising isn’t “France shouldn’t defend itself”—of course a nation has a right to defend itself against real threats. The issue is whether every action taken in response is justified, proportional, and morally defensible, especially when it involves large-scale civilian harm.

Your hypothetical conveniently removes all the complicating factors that exist in real life: (1) decades of historical conflict; (2) disputed land claims; (3) civilian populations caught in the middle; and (4) questions about proportionality and long-term strategy.

People aren’t criticizing because they think a country has no right to defend itself—they’re questioning how that defense is carried out and whether it crosses moral lines.

Also, invoking “lobbies” or “control” is a distraction. Most Americans support allies when they’re under attack. What people debate—and should debate—is whether U.S. involvement aligns with our interests, our values, and basic principles of just war.

A better framing is this:

“You can support a country’s right to defend itself while still scrutinizing its actions and opposing policies that harm civilians or escalate conflict unnecessarily.”

That’s not hypocrisy—that’s applying consistent moral standards instead of blind loyalty.
quote:

Even as vile and disgusting as they may be, they're still far less pieces of shite than personal injury attorneys. And that's a hill I'll die on.


Why are personal injury attorneys “pieces of shite”?
quote:

Growing up protestant, I can say we don't think much about you at all.


Every now and then someone confidently declares that Protestants “don’t think about Catholics,” only to immediately write several paragraphs about Catholics. The irony usually goes unnoticed by the person making the claim (you).

The idea that Catholics obsess over Protestants while Protestants ignore Catholics is one of those comforting myths that collapses the moment you look at the history of Protestantism itself. Protestantism literally begins with a protest against the Catholic Church. Martin Luther didn’t nail the 95 Theses to the door of the Wittenberg church because Catholics were irrelevant to him. John Calvin did not write the Institutes of the Christian Religion in order to ignore Catholic theology. The English Reformation did not dissolve monasteries and execute priests because Catholics were “cute but not to be taken seriously.” Entire Protestant confessions of faith—such as the Westminster Confession—contain long sections explicitly written to refute Catholic doctrine.

So the claim that Protestants don’t think about Catholics is absurd. Protestantism was born in reaction to Catholicism and has spent five centuries defining itself against it.

quote:

We think your need to put a man between a person and God is ridiculous


Another familiar talking point is the idea that Catholics “put a man between a person and God.” This caricature is repeated so often that many Protestants like yourself assume it must be true.

It isn’t.

Catholics believe exactly what Christians have believed since the first century: Jesus Christ is the one mediator between God and man (1 Timothy 2:5). The Church teaches that priests act in persona Christi when administering the sacraments, meaning they serve as instruments through whom Christ Himself works. In other words, the priest is not a barrier between you and God; he is part of the sacramental system Christ established.

Ironically, Protestants who mock this concept usually have no problem asking their pastor to pray for them or seeking spiritual counsel. Once you understand that Christianity has always had ministers, bishops, and sacramental authority, the accusation collapses.

quote:

This country was founded on Protestantism. Our Founding Fathers didn't trust Catholics because they were worried about loyalty to the Pope instead of the country. Protestantism is the religion of America, whether you like it or not.


Then there is this lame inevitable historical claim: America was founded on Protestantism. This is one of those statements that sounds convincing until you actually read the Founding documents.

The United States Constitution—the highest legal authority in the country—contains no reference to Protestantism whatsoever. In fact, Article VI explicitly states that “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.” That clause was written precisely to prevent the kind of sectarian exclusion that you, the commenter, seem to admire.

The First Amendment goes even further by forbidding the establishment of any national religion. If the Founders wanted the United States to be a Protestant nation, they had every opportunity to say so. They deliberately chose not to.

And the idea that Catholics are somehow incompatible with American loyalty has been thoroughly disproven by history. Catholic Americans have fought and died in every American war—from the Revolution to the present day. Entire military units, such as the Irish Brigade in the Civil War, were overwhelmingly Catholic. The suggestion that Catholics are secretly loyal to the pope and only the pope is a 19th-century nativist conspiracy theory that should have been buried with the Know-Nothing Party.

quote:

You remind me of State fans trying to act as if they are as relevant as the flagship university.


Comparing Catholics to a lesser university trying to compete with a flagship school might feel clever, but it accidentally exposes another problem: historical perspective.

Catholicism existed for 1,500 years before Protestantism appeared. Every Christian Bible used by Protestants was canonized by the Catholic Church. The doctrines of the Trinity and the nature of Christ—foundational beliefs for all Christians—were defined at councils convened by the Catholic Church.

If we are going to use the university analogy, Protestantism would be less like a flagship institution and more like a collection of splinter campuses that broke away from the original university while continuing to use its textbooks.

The deeper issue is insecurity disguised as bravado. Protestantism, by its nature, is fragmented. There are tens of thousands of Protestant denominations worldwide, many of which disagree on fundamental questions of doctrine, authority, and even the meaning of baptism and communion. Without a central teaching authority, the result is endless theological division.

Catholicism, by contrast, maintains the same sacramental structure, apostolic succession, and doctrinal framework it has preserved for two millennia.

That continuity is precisely why Protestant polemics so often circle back to Catholicism. You cannot explain Protestantism without referencing the Church it separated from.


TLDR:

Catholics do not need Protestants to legitimize their faith. The Catholic Church predates every Protestant denomination by over a millennium and traces its authority to the apostles themselves.

So when someone claims that Protestants “don’t think about Catholics,” yet feels compelled to write paragraphs attacking Catholicism, the contradiction speaks for itself.

You don’t spend that much energy dismissing something unless, at some level, you know it matters.
The entitlement that some, if not most, of our elected and appointed officials possess is loathsome.

“I have always been allowed on the dirt based on the county’s relationship with the rodeo, regardless of wristband,” Hidalgo wrote in the letter. “Nobody has ever told me I needed a special pass to access the dirt.”

She’s not above the rules. The article said the chute ticket cost $425. Certainly someone who had suite tickets could afford that if she wanted to sit in the chute area.

“These days, not only are we fighting a war abroad, but some people, mostly white men, have felt emboldened to treat others, particularly Hispanics, with physical force,” Hidalgo wrote. “I don’t travel without my passport anymore. Many of us do, especially those of us who are not white-passing.”

The pièce de résistance: doesn’t get her way so she cries racism.

Get fricked where you breathe, Your Honor.
While I would typically agree that God uses imperfect figures (because humanity is born into sin and not divine in nature) to accomplish His purpose, no politician is a messianic figure.
quote:

I always assumed consent couldn't legally be given by an unconscious person.


Correct. Louisiana’s aggravated rape, simple rape, and sexual battery all involve consent and being able to give consent.

Louisiana criminal law follows a simple rule: Consent requires the ability to knowingly and voluntarily agree. A person who is unconscious, asleep, or otherwise incapable of awareness cannot legally give consent.

Louisiana courts generally treat unconsciousness as automatic incapacity, meaning: (1) no consent can legally exist; and/or (2) the act is non-consensual by definition.
quote:

UltimaParadox


quote:

If we look at this objectively, the insane number of priests that abused children kind of nullifies this argument..


Ah yes, the classic internet move: someone makes a theological argument and you respond with a completely unrelated scandal because you don’t actually have an argument.

The topic is female pastors, not abuse. Bringing up abuse is a red herring.

Also, the idea that abuse is uniquely a Catholic problem is historically illiterate. Abuse scandals have happened in public schools, Protestant churches, the Boy Scouts, sports programs, and families—often at comparable or higher rates. The difference is that the Catholic Church is the only institution people pretend invented the problem.

The Church itself teaches that abusing a child is a grave moral evil, and the criminals who did it betrayed the very faith they claimed to represent. Condemning the Church because some priests committed crimes is like condemning medicine because some doctors commit malpractice.

And none of that even touches the actual issue: Christian priesthood comes from Christ and apostolic tradition, not modern identity politics.

So no, bringing up abuse doesn’t “nullify” the argument. It just shows you don’t have one.
quote:

Chad504boy


quote:

what is their stance on preventative pedophilia?


That’s a pretty weak straw-man. The quote you’re responding to is about preventive war between nations under international law, and instead of addressing that, you jumped to an unrelated outrage topic, which no doubt causes justifiable outrage. But it’s not an argument—it’s a deflection.

Also, the premise of your jab is wrong. The Catholic Church explicitly condemns sexual abuse of minors and punishes it under its own law. See Canon 1398 §1 of the Code of Canon Law (2021 revision):

“A cleric who commits an offense against the sixth commandment with a minor… is to be punished with deprivation of office and other just penalties, not excluding dismissal from the clerical state if the case warrants it.”

In plain English: sexual abuse of a minor is a grave canonical crime that can get a priest removed from ministry and permanently laicized. If someone were to assess the Pope’s and relevant dicasteries internal disciplining and having an issue with them not being severe enough in internal discipline, that’s one thing, but it’s not like the Church does not condemn that behavior amongst a whole host of other sinful behaviors.

But more importantly, your comparison doesn’t even make sense. The Vatican comment is about whether sovereign states can justify launching wars based on hypothetical future threats—a question from just war theory and international law. Clerical abuse is an individual criminal offense handled under criminal and canon law. Completely different categories.

So, instead of trying to derail the conversation with a cheap “gotcha,” you could try engaging the actual point. Otherwise, it just looks like you didn’t have a response—so you changed the subject.
Fun idea, but that’s not how defamation works in Louisiana. You don’t sue because a coach made bad football decisions or benched you in a weird way. You need a false statement of fact, published to a third party, that actually harms reputation—and for a public figure, you’ve got to show actual malice, not just incompetence or ego. “Brian Kelly mismanaged Nuss” may be true and likely is true, but it’s not defamatory. It’s just bad coaching. Not to mention that Nuss was hurt.

That said…glad Kelly is gone. Football malpractice isn’t actionable in court, but it is fireable in Baton Rouge.