What John XXIII REALLY said on his deathbed

The claim is often heard that John XXIII, allegedly remorseful on his deathbed about ever having convoked the Council and wishing to put an immediate stop to the unbridled revolution with its contemptuous spirit for the venerable Tradition of the Church then underway by radical progressivists such as Cardinal Suenens, Yves Congar, Hans Küng, Karl Rahner, and Joseph Ratzinger (to name just a few), cried “Stop the Council! Stop the Council!”. Is there any truth to this claim? On the face of it, the claim sounds more than a little dubious, and when considered with just some care to the facts is shown to be patently false. For Angelo Roncalli/John XXIII is the same man who welcomed theologians such as Karl Rahner, Yves Congar, and others, previously suspected of heresy by the Holy Office, to be Conciliar theological periti. Furthermore, John XXIII himself had somewhat of a reputation as a progressive, particularly after the publication of the encyclical Pacem in Terris on April 11, 1963, which drew universal praise around the world from freethinkers of all stripes ranging from “conservative” Freemasons to communists. And we here find that, as is often the case, whatever sounds dubious, turns indeed to be not merely dubious, but manifestly false when researched carefully.

So, what exactly did Angelo Roncalli/John XXIII state as he lay at death’s door? Let us see what Angelo Roncalli’s biographer, Peter Hebblethwaite, has to say in his work, “John XXIII: Pope of the Council” (Geoffrey Chapman - London, 1985, pp 501-502). After expressing some pious sentiments and recalling his early priestly vocation, he goes on to remember fondly his modernist mentors who guided him in the early years of his priesthood: “Along the way I’ve met holy priests and good superiors. Oh! Don Francesco Rebuzzini, monsignor Radini[-Tedeschi], cardinal Ferrari…all helped me and loved me. I had lots of encouragement.” Next, he makes the surprising remark that, after more than 80 years of earthly existence as a sinner in this valley of tears he is unaware of having offended anyone, but begs forgiveness if such has been the case, “For my part, I’m not aware of having offended anyone, but if I have, I beg their forgiveness…” (Apparently, he never offended Christ for opening the windows of the Church during Vatican II to the odious stench of modernism, neither did he offend the millions of Christian souls suffering under the boot of communist barbarism, or those languishing in communist prisons or the Soviet Gulag by refusing to condemn the most evil ideology then in existence, namely communism). The all-important work of the Council had made a sure, solid start and was set to continue with his next successor; Roncalli’s mission on earth was complete and his conscience was clear before God: “In this last hour I feel calm and sure that my Lord, in his mercy, will not reject me.” For Roncalli, intentionally giving free license to the Conciliar revolutionaries in order to pillage and plunder the sacred treasures of the Church had served the causes of, “truth, justice, and charity”: “Unworthy though I am, I wanted to serve him, and I’ve done my best to pay homage to truth, justice, and charity…” He next goes on to express a wish for the false “unity” preached and promoted by Freemasonry to finally descend upon mankind, even though the Church teaches that that unity is already fully present within the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. From this false search for a “unity” already in existence, came the inspiration for the false ecumenism thoroughly permeating the “spirit” of the Council – also one of Freemasonry’s projects –, which was as it were its beating heart and one of its guiding principles that would finally bring a Utopian “peace” to mankind (hence the later “Spirit of Assisi” and its calls for peace): "My time on earth is drawing to a close. But Christ lives on and the Church continues its work. Souls, souls. Ut unum sint! Ut unum sint! [i.e.: may they be one!]" But that is not all. To members of the curia and the cardinals coming in to pay their last respects he expressed the hope, not that the Council would be stopped, but that it would be successfully concluded: “…I’m sure the bishops will bring the Council to a happy conclusion”!

Regarding his modernist mentors whose memory he fondly recalled, we point out that Radini-Tedeschi was the bishop of Bergamo who took Roncalli under his wing as his private secretary. Working as a professor of ecclesiastical history in Bergamo’s seminary, Roncalli would teach from the overtly modernist History of the Early Church by the modernist Duchesne. St Pius X complained bitterly that nowhere in all of Italy was the modernist History so widespread among the clergy as in the diocese headed by the modernist friendly Bishop Radini-Tedeschi. Cardinal Andrea Carlo Ferrari of Milan who Roncalli also mentioned as one of his guiding mentors also led a diocese heavily influenced by the modernism then spreading like wildfire, particularly among the younger clergy. Ferrari thus had a rocky relationship with St Pius X for his dubious orthodoxy and for his hesitancy to engage in the combat against modernism in his diocese.

But let us consider, for prudence’s sake, that perhaps, just perhaps, these were the mindless ravings of a poor man at death’s door whose mind was hopelessly clouded by the ravages of the terminal stages of cancer and thus unable to think through things clearly. Perhaps in the months before his death he had been having second thoughts about the prudence and necessity of convening the Council? Quite the contrary. In an address delivered on December 8, 1962 he said that the first session of the Council, “had been like a slow and solemn introduction to the Council – a generous willingness to enter into the heart and substance of the divine plan.” (ibid, p 464) His last words were an expression of undimmed optimism for the fruits that the Council would give forth. To him, it seemed as though the Heavenly court itself was looking down from on high in approval as the Council progressed: “the heavens are opened above our heads, and the splendour of the heavenly court shines down upon us.” (ibid, p 466) And finally, in order to ensure that the Council would be continued in exactly the same rebellious spirit as was observed in the first session, John XXIII told the editor of Civiltà Cattolica on February 9, 1963 that in the short time he had to live before his own death he had to do everything possible, ”to prevent the conclave after my death being a conclave ‘against me’, because then it might make a choice that would destroy everything I have started to achieve.” (ibid, p 475) Let us take this opportunity to “bust” another myth surrounding Roncalli and his (not the Church’s) pseudo-Council. As recently as 2020, the Rorate Caeli weblog published an interview called an “expose” with Fr Charles Murr on “Mother Pascalina, Bugnini, Paul VI, and Other Major Figures”. Here, Fr Charles Murr contends that, “Roncalli originally wanted a Council that would begin and end in three months’ time and he hoped to close it with the beatification of Papa Mastai-Ferretti (Pius IX of Vatican I)!” Both points made here are false: 1) Roncalli was in no hurry to have the Council finished, and as pointed out above, he was quite happy to describe the first session as a “slow and solemn introduction to the Council”. 2) It was not “Papa Mastai-Ferretti” that Roncalli was in a hurry to beatify, but his old philo-modernist mentor, Cardinal Ferrari of Milan (ibid, p 475). On the contrary, according to Msgr Capovilla’s account (Roncalli’s private secretary), he continually and intentionally kept delaying Pius IX’s beatification under specious pretenses (ibid, p 465).

We believe to have found the original source of the “Stop the Council!” myth; not the exact words, for which we have found no properly cited reference, but the mind-set which set the “stage” for some crafty individual to come up with the words out of thin air, and (alas) repeated endlessly ad nauseam ever since. In her work, The Desolate City: Revolution in the Catholic Church Anne Roche Muggeridge describes a perfectly orthodox John XXIII whose only desire was to give some fresh air to the Church through the Council: “There is no hint in his life or words [!] that the ‘Good Pope John’ who touched off the revolution had anything more in mind by aggiornamento than a modernization and simplification of procedures and disciplines, a kind of cheerful spring-cleaning of all the Church’s treasures…”, while the hapless and sadly clueless Roncalli “seems not to have understood the new meaning the word ‘ecumenism’ had taken on.” (The Desolate City, Harper & Row, 1986, p 72). Here is the most relevant quote, the one that deals directly with the aforementioned myth: “When, during the rebellious first session of the Council, he realized that the papacy had lost control of the process, he attempted, as Cardinal John Heenan of Westminster later revealed, to organize a group of bishops to try to force it to an end. Before the second session opened he had died.” The reference provided for this completely unfounded statement is a “letter” written by a certain Rev. Joseph W. Oppitz directed to America magazine found in the edition from 15 April 1972. That is, this is not even a direct account of events by the one who supposedly witnessed them, Card. Heenan himself. Muggeridge, it turns out, was a staunch supporter of John Paul II, the man influenced by the gnosis of Steinerian anthroposophy handed down to him by figures like his old mentor and friend Kotlarczyk. One cannot help but cringe when reading such statements by Muggeridge about John Paul II so totally disconnected from reality: “The revolution within the Catholic Church and its supporters without have from his election directed at John Paul II a stream of vituperation unparalled in modern times” (ibid, p 150); she expresses clear evidence for “…the Holy Ghost’s hand in the choice of John Paul II” (!); “The election of John Paul II marks the point at which the idea of counter-revolution became tenable. I shall here touch briefly on the pope’s counter-revolutionary program…”; “…the Pope puts first things first. For him doctrine is the all important thing”; “John Paul II, through his missionary travels and his understanding of modernity, has dispelled the post-Conciliar confusion.” (ibid, p 152) And, given these statements, it is probably no surprise to learn that Muggeridge was an equally enthusiastic supporter of the Kabbalah inspired sexual gnosis of Karol Wojtyla, his so called “Theology of the Body” reminiscent of the gnosis found in such Kabbalistic texts as the Zohar. This is indeed the so called “counter-revolutionary program” of Karol Wojtyla that clueless neo-Catholics like Muggeridge were enthusiastically applauding at the time.

The myth of an Angelo Roncalli desperately pleading for his pseudo-Council to be brought to a speedy conclusion, therefore, appears to have its genesis and support in neo-Catholics and pseudo-traditionalists who are quite content in believing that Vatican II did not indeed introduce any novelties or new doctrine into the Church, that all the chaos and disarray that followed in the wake of the Council was due to the media’s “virtual Council” overtaking the “real Council” (a myth apparently first proposed by Joseph Ratzinger, but defended by figures such as Roberto de Mattei); people who enthusiastically express their admiration for the deeds and purported orthodoxy of “St” John Paul II by adding “The Great” to his name (!), and so on. It is from this false traditionalism and lukewarm Catholicism that we must be on our guard against.