Allocutio die XXVI Ianuarii A. D. MCMLX habita in secunda (1960.01.26)

Vatican portal publishes the Latin allocution of John XXIII from 26 January 1960, delivered at the second session of the Roman Synod, in which he exhorts clergy on the “virtues necessary to the dignity of priests,” organized under the rhetorical triad: “head, heart, and tongue.” He appeals to the Council of Trent, recommends study, defends discipline and clerical celibacy, calls for charity and prudence in speech, and frames all this as the ideal of the “true priest of Jesus Christ.” Behind a veneer of traditional vocabulary and citations, the text functions as a carefully calculated exercise: anchoring an already-planned revolution in a sentimental simulacrum of pre‑conciliar Catholicism.


Sanctity as Cosmetics: John XXIII’s Rhetoric before the Conciliar Upheaval

External Respectability as Ersatz for Supernatural Priesthood

The allocution repeatedly insists that priests must present themselves so that in “habit, bearing, gait, speech” they show “nothing but what is grave, moderate and full of religion,” and that even light faults in them are “very great” because of their position. At first glance this appears to echo the Tridentine decree on reform (Session XXII).

Yet here emerges the first structural falsification:

– The text exalts decorum as if the priestly ideal could be reduced to visible correctness and psychological respectability.
– The priest is presented primarily as a “mirror” for the faithful, an exemplar of good behaviour, rather than as the consecrated man ontologically configured to Christ the High Priest to offer the Unbloody Sacrifice of Calvary and remit sins.

Pre‑1958 doctrine is unambiguous: the essence of the priest is sacrificial and sacramental.

– The Council of Trent defines the priesthood in relation to the propitiatory Sacrifice and the power of consecration and absolution, not as a sociological exemplarism (Denzinger-Hünermann 1752–1754, 1764).
– Pius XI in Quas primas teaches that all order, private and public, must be subordinated to the social Kingship of Christ; the priest is first of all a minister of this royal dominion through sacrifice, doctrine and governance, not an ornament of ecclesiastical bourgeois decency.

By shifting emphasis from the altar to “habitus, gestus, incessus, sermo,” John XXIII exemplifies the modernist tactic condemned by St. Pius X in Pascendi: retain sacred words, empty their content, and reorient the faithful towards natural virtues and appearances. The priest becomes a religiously scented moral functionary, while the supernatural character, the dominion of grace, the terror of judgment, fade into polite background. This is not an accident; it is the pedagogy of the looming conciliar revolution.

Doctrinal Formation without Doctrinal Combat

The section on the “head” exalts study, praises Scripture, Fathers, St. Thomas, liturgy, canon law, warns against imprudent reading, and cites 2 Peter 1:19–20 and an allusion to Humani generis.

It seems impeccably “traditional,” yet several decisive omissions and distortions betray its modernist subtext:

1. There is no explicit insistence that the priest must adhere with internal, irrevocable assent to all papal and conciliar condemnations of liberalism, indifferentism, laicism, and rationalism as collected, for example, in the Syllabus of Pius IX and in Lamentabili sane exitu and Pascendi of Pius X.
2. There is no summons to combat, by name and anathema, the specific errors devouring the 20th century: religious liberty as a right, ecumenism with heretics and infidels, socialism, Freemasonry, biblical relativism, evolution of dogma. These are precisely the plagues denounced by Pius IX and Pius X, and the silence here is thunderous.
3. The invocation of prudent selection of books is not oriented toward defending immutable dogma, but toward a vague “avoidance of singularity” and trust in the teaching Church understood as the very authority that, with John XXIII, was preparing to welcome precisely those tendencies earlier condemned.

Lamentabili and Pascendi clearly brand as heretical the notion that:

– Dogma is an interpretation of religious experience;
– Revelation continues as evolving consciousness;
– Exegesis can correct the Church’s doctrinal sense.

John XXIII, instead of reaffirming these condemnations with militant clarity, offers an irenic admonition: do not be “original,” trust “the Church” — precisely as he steers that visible structure towards the “aggiornamento” that will enshrine religious freedom, ecumenism, the cult of man, and the new liturgy.

This is the technique of dissimulation: quote Trent and St. Thomas as decor, while the operative principle is the approaching betrayal.

The Heart: Sentimentality without Supernatural Militant Charity

On the “heart,” John XXIII calls for love of Jesus, of the Church, of souls, concern for sinners and the poor, purity, fidelity to celibacy, and laments scandals. On the surface, much is unobjectionable. But the allocation and selection of emphases again reveal a naturalistic deformation:

– Charity is described primarily in terms of psychological sweetness, human affability, and pastoral helpfulness.
– There is no mention that true charity is ordered to leading souls out of heresy, schism, false religions, and mortal sin into the one ark of salvation, the Catholic Church, and into the state of grace, under pain of eternal damnation.

Pre‑1958 magisterium speaks without ambiguity:

– Pius IX (Syllabus, props. 15–18 condemned): it is an error to hold that any religion leads to salvation or that “good hope” is to be had for all outside the true Church.
– Pius XI in Mortalium animos denounces as betrayal the very ecumenical mentality that the “Roman Synod” era was cultivating.
– Pius XI in Quas primas teaches that society can only have peace when it recognizes publicly the Kingship of Christ; any charity abstracted from the rights of Christ the King is disordered.

John XXIII speaks of love for all, especially the poor and sinners, but omits the demand that they convert to the true faith, submit intellectually and socially to Christ’s reign, and flee the errors of liberalism and modernism. This omission is not neutral: in the context of his pontificate, it anticipates the horizontal and worldly “pastoral” charity of the conciliar sect—humanitarian, dialogical, denuded of the supernatural absoluteness of one true Church and one saving confession.

When he defends priestly celibacy, he rightly rejects the illusions of relaxing the law. But even here the argumentation remains mainly historical and aesthetic (“splendid ornament”), instead of being grounded in the priest’s identity as victim with Christ and in the eschatological absoluteness of his separation from the world. Celibacy is praised; the priestly ontology that justifies it is fogged.

The Tongue: Moralism without Doctrinal Parrhesia

The final section, on the “tongue,” uses St. Peter and St. James to warn against slander, harshness, unbridled speech, and to praise modest discourse and peacemaking.

Again, what is affirmed is true in itself: calumny and detraction are grave sins; clerical gossip is poisonous. But, crucially:

– There is no word on the sacred duty of pastors to denounce public error, to condemn heresies, to name enemies of the faith, to warn flock against wolves, including infiltrated clerics, Freemasonry, and modernist theologians.
– The passages of St. Paul on anathematizing contrary gospels, reproving publicly those who sin, and fighting wolves are passed over in silence.

The effect is perverse and perfectly aligned with the conciliar strategy:

– Any sharp doctrinal clarity, any explicit condemnation, can be socially perceived as “bad use of the tongue,” “lack of charity,” “malediction.”
– The clergy are conditioned to equate fidelity to truth and necessary polemics with a violation of the ideal of amiable silence and endless benevolence.

Thus, under the banner of St. James, John XXIII disarms the priesthood, psychologically conditioning priests to be shy of denunciation just on the eve of the greatest doctrinal onslaught since the Arian crisis. This stands in direct tension with the pre‑1958 magisterium, which repeatedly commands pastors to expose modern errors vigorously:

– Pius IX, in texts linked to the Syllabus, orders bishops to unmask liberal and masonic sects, not to coexist with them.
– Pius X, in Pascendi, commands the establishment of vigilance councils to detect and expel modernists; silence and irenicism are branded complicity.

To exalt a gagged, inoffensive priest as ideal is to invert the apostolic pattern. It is a moralization of cowardice.

Hermeneutic Weaponization of Trent and the Fathers

The allocution decorates itself with citations from Trent, St. Peter, St. James, St. Thomas, St. Bernard, Laurence Justinian. This is precisely why it must be judged severely.

From the perspective of unchanging Catholic teaching prior to 1958, several manipulative strategies are evident:

Selective reception: Trent is quoted on decorum and discipline; Trent’s anathemas against Protestant errors, its confessional clarity, its definition of sacrifice and priesthood, are not invoked to frame the crisis of the time.
Authoritative shell, modernist kernel: The Fathers and saints are instrumentalized as authorities on private virtue, while their intransigent doctrinal militancy, their condemnation of heresy, and their insistence on Church’s exclusive claims are quarantined from practical application in 1960.
Equivocation on “teaching Church”: Exhortation to trust the Church’s magisterium is voiced by the very authority preparing to contradict the constant magisterium on religious liberty, collegiality, ecumenism, and liturgy. The faithful priest is psychologically driven into obedience to a forthcoming rupture disguised as continuity.

This is the essence of the “hermeneutics of continuity” later trumpeted by the conciliar sect: use pre‑conciliar language to lubricate post‑conciliar apostasy. Pius X had already unmasked this technique: modernists hide beneath Catholic vocabulary while subverting its sense (Pascendi, on “double life” and “doctrinal evolution”).

Silence on Modernism, Freemasonry, and the Social Kingship of Christ

The gravest accusations are always the silences.

In 1960 — after the condemnations of Pius IX, Leo XIII, St. Pius X, Pius XI, Pius XII; after the proven action of Freemasonry, socialism, laicism, and modernism against the Church — John XXIII exhorts priests at a Roman Synod and:

– Says nothing about the infiltration of modernists into seminaries, universities, chanceries.
– Says nothing about the duty to reject liberal democracy’s religious indifferentism condemned in the Syllabus (props. 55, 77–80).
– Says nothing about the public rights of Christ the King taught in Quas primas: no insistence that priestly ministry must strive to subject individuals, families, and states to Christ’s reign; no warning about the cult of “human rights” severed from divine law.
– Says nothing about the internal enemies denounced by St. Pius X — those who, “enemies of the Church, are found in her very bosom” (Pascendi).
– Says nothing about the satanic role of masonic sects in waging war on the Church, exposed by the pre‑conciliar popes.

This is not a casual omission; it is programmatic. The conciliar sect being gestated in these years is characterized precisely by:

– replacement of supernatural combat with horizontal benevolence;
– abandonment of the social Kingship of Christ in favour of secular pluralism;
– refusal to name Freemasonry and modernism as structural enemies;
– transformation of the priest into an administrator of community and a nice functionary of “dialogue.”

Where pre‑1958 popes cried Non possumus to liberalism and modern civilization’s apostasy, John XXIII, in allocutions like this, trains clergy for peaceful coexistence with the very forces his predecessors anatomized as instruments of the “synagogue of Satan” (Pius IX’s language).

Symptomatic Expression of the Conciliar Revolution

This allocution must be read symptomatically:

– The rhetorical triad “head, heart, tongue” is in itself not erroneous; but it is deployed to construct an ideal priest who is:
– decorous (without necessarily being doctrinally combative),
– kind and affective (without necessarily being zealous for exclusive truth),
– discreet in speech (without necessarily denouncing falsehood).
– The supernatural realities most offensive to modern ears — hell, judgment, exclusivity of salvation in the Catholic Church, absolute obligation of states to recognize Christ’s Kingship, the mortal danger of modern errors — are absent.

This is precisely how an ecclesiastical body in doctrinal metastasis speaks to itself: it repeats fragments of Tradition as museum pieces, while operationally relativizing them through omission and sentimental overlay.

From the perspective of integral Catholic faith:

This text is not a safe guide. It is a mild, sugar-coated anesthesia administered to the clergy of Rome two years before the opening of the assembly that would enshrine religious freedom and ecumenism and prepare the destruction of the Roman rite.
This text is a case study in pre‑conciliar double-speak. By invoking Trent while preparing to neutralize its doctrinal intransigence, John XXIII anticipates the entire “neo-church” technique: continuity in slogans, rupture in substance.

Pseudo-Reform versus True Reform of the Priesthood

Authentic Catholic reform, as defined by Trent and pre‑1958 Magisterium, entails:

– return to sacrificial identity of the priest as one ordained to offer the Most Holy Sacrifice and absolve sins;
– strict doctrinal formation in Thomistic theology and submission to all prior papal condemnations of error;
– militant rejection of modernist novelties, rationalism, false ecumenism, democratization of the Church;
– cultivation of interior life ordered to God’s glory and the salvation of souls in the one true Church;
– firmness in speech, charitably but clearly condemning heresy and warning against all structures of sin, including anti‑Catholic states and sects.

The allocution of John XXIII partially imitates the vocabulary of this program (Trent, St. Thomas, celibacy) but systematically suppresses its combative, exclusive, and supernatural core. It elevates a “reform” of manners without the necessary reform of doctrine, and in fact as a prelude to doctrinal subversion.

This is the spiritual and theological bankruptcy unveiled:

– virtue reduced to aesthetics,
– charity reduced to horizontal benevolence,
– obedience redirected from the constant Magisterium to a paramasonic conciliar agenda,
– silence imposed where God demands anathema.

In such discourse priests are not armed for the battle prophesied by Pius IX and Pius X; they are being delicately disarmed.

Conclusion: The Mask before the Eclipse

When measured by the immutable teaching expressed, for example, in the Syllabus of Pius IX, Lamentabili and Pascendi of St. Pius X, and Quas primas of Pius XI, this allocution reveals itself as a polished mask:

– It borrows the light of Tradition to illuminate a path leading away from Tradition.
– It cajoles priests into a spirituality of harmlessness at the threshold of the greatest doctrinal crisis in centuries.
– It exemplifies the rhetorical strategy of the emerging neo-church: continuity of quotations, discontinuity of spirit.

Integral Catholic faith requires not to be deceived by such cosmetic appeals. The priest of Christ is not formed by sentimental appeals to be “nice” and “prudent” in a structure preparing apostasy, but by unwavering adherence to the perennial Magisterium up to 1958, militant rejection of modernism in all its guises, and fearless proclamation of the full, hard, saving truth under the Kingship of Our Lord Jesus Christ.


Source:
Allocutio die XXVI Ianuarii A. D. MCMLX habita in secunda Synodi sessione
  (vatican.va)
Date: 08.11.2025