Bombshell: Pope Francis held two secret meetings with Pfizer CEO prior to Vatican vaccine mandates
Yet we have hope
“And he shall make all, both little and great, rich and poor, freemen and bondmen, to have a character in their right hand, or on their foreheads. And that no man might buy or sell, but he that hath the character, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.” —Revelation 13:16-17
What did Pfizer CEO Albert Bourla, a veterinarian, say to the pope to make Francis and his favorite bishops the world’s leading vaccine evangelists? And how does this news recall a prophecy by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI?
Bergoglio’s Secret Meetings with Pfizer’s CEO Disclosed
Edward Pentin of National Catholic Register broke the news that Pope Francis held two undisclosed meetings with Pfizer CEO Albert Bourla last year. These meetings were not previously disclosed to the public.
“The Register has learned that Pope Francis privately held undisclosed meetings with the CEO of Pfizer last year as questions arise over the efficacy of the vaccines in preventing transmission, which are now being mandated for all Vatican staff and visitors.”
—Edward Pentin, National Catholic Register
You may remember that the Pope signed and exlcusive deal with Pfizer, making Pfizer’s BioNTech vaccine the official vaccine of the Catholic Church. The Pope went on to impose a vaccine mandate on all persons entering Vatican City, demanding all employees and visitors show the mark of the vaccine.
Pope Held Secret Meetings with Melissa Gates
Pentin reminds us that the Pope in 2019 held secret meetings with Melinda Gates who was representing the Gates Foundation which has pushed universal vaccination since the beginning of the pandemic.
“Bourla’s meetings with the Pope would not be the first such unannounced papal encounter in recent years. In November 2019, shortly before the COVID-19 health emergency began, the Pope privately received Melinda Gates. The meeting, well known in the Vatican, was not announced and has never been officially acknowledged.” —Edward Pentin, National Catholic Register
A Papacy In Love With This World
These revelations fit with the overarching theme of Bergoglio’s reign: winning in this life on earth is all that matters. In fact, Bergoglio rarely mentions Christ, faith, salvation, or anything remotely Catholic. Here’s a word cloud of a typical papal address:
That tiny word circled in the lower left-hand corner is “Jesus.” Yes, the Holy Father actually found room in his bloviation to mention the Son of God once or twice. Good for him.
One might expect, though, that the head of Christianity, the man with the ultimate duty to carry out the Great Commission, would maybe say “human” less and “Jesus” more. Then, again, I’m kind of old fashioned.
The Benedictine Prophecy
Father V. today reminds us of a prophecy from Pope Emeritus Benedict. I don’t know if Mr. Pentin’s revelation inspired Fr. V. to post this tweet thread, but, to me, the two are related.
“Soon we will have priests reduced to social workers and the message of faith reduced to political vision. Everything will seem lost, but at the right time, just at the most dramatic stage of the crisis, the Church will be reborn. She will be smaller, poorer, almost catacombal, but also holier. For it will no longer be the Church of those who seek to love the world, but the Church of the faithful to God and his eternal law. Revival will be the work of a small remnant apparently insignificant but indomitable, passed through a process of purification. Because that's how God works. Against evil, a small flock resists.”
—Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI
The Faith Is Ancient; Bergoglio Is Old
Bergoglio’s cheerleaders remind Catholics of their duty to blindly obey the pope in all things. Coincidentally, these are the same people who, during Benedict’s pontificate, reminded Catholics that they must obey their consciences regardless of what the pope says. (I’m looking at you, Allen Ivereigh.)
As I’ve often written, the Church has always taught that we view modernity through the eyes of our ancient fathers in Christ. We distrust the new, especially when the new conflicts with or casts shadows on the old.
Father Chad Ripperger explored modern man’s superiority complex in Topics on Tradition, a book every Catholic—every Christian—should read.
There is a not so subtle superiority complex in modern man when he considers himself in relation to his predecessors. After all, modern man has computers, DVDs, hi-tech automobiles, jet aircraft and the achievement of putting men on the moon, among other things. There is a certain smugness in the average modern man who thinks to himself how much better he is than those earlier in history who knew nothing of digital movies, atomical physics and evolution.1
From a secular perspective, Nassim Nicholas Taleb refers to this tendency as “neomania,” a psychotic fixation on anything new.
In Anti-fragile: Things That Gain From Disorder (Incerto), Taleb sneaks up on his examination of neomania by describing fragilistas, people who over-intervene causing more harm than good:
In short, the fragilista (medical, economic, social planning) is one who makes you engage in policies and actions, all artificial, in which the benefits are small and visible, and the side effects potentially severe and invisible.
There is the medical fragilista who overintervenes in denying the body’s natural ability to heal and gives you medications with potentially very severe side effects.2
Taleb goes on to explain that fragilistas fail to recognize that the longer things have been around, the longer they’re likely to exist. For example, the home movie rental business sprang to life in the late 1980s and was all but dead by Obama’s first term just 20 years later. But the movie theatre, which has been around since the early 1900s and was predicted to die with advent of television, then the birth of cable, then the emergence of streaming, is alive well.
Taleb tells a wonderful tale of other, far more ancient inventions that prove the problem of neomaniacalism:
Tonight I will be meeting friends in a restaurant (tavernas have existed for at least twenty-five centuries). I will be walking there wearing shoes hardly different from those worn fifty-three hundred years ago by the mummified man discovered in a glacier in the Austrian Alps. At the restaurant, I will be using silverware, a Mesopotamian technology, which qualifies as a “killer application” given what it allows me to do to the leg of lamb, such as tear it apart while sparing my fingers from burns. I will be drinking wine, a liquid that has been in use for at least six millennia. The wine will be poured into glasses, an innovation claimed by my Lebanese compatriots to come from their Phoenician ancestors, and if you disagree about the source, we can say that glass objects have been sold by them as trinkets for at least twenty-nine hundred years. After the main course, I will have a somewhat younger technology, artisanal cheese, paying higher prices for those that have not changed in their preparation for several centuries. 3
Let this be a warning to you who love anything new: it is not likely to last. And we say this confidently because of Gott’s Law, which Taleb defines succinctly as: