We don't fear it. It pains us immensely, but we believe the good we seek is greater.
In a valley in the Swiss Alps, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered to witness an act their Church had explicitly forbidden — the consecration of four bishops without papal approval. The Society of St. Pius X, long estranged from Rome over the reforms of the Second Vatican Council, pressed forward despite Pope Leo XIV's warnings of automatic excommunication and formal schism, invoking what they called a state of necessity to serve their global flock. It is an old human story: those who believe they alone preserve something sacred, and who conclude that obedience to institution must yield to obedience to truth. The question the Church now faces is whether a wound this deliberately opened can ever fully close.
- The SSPX consecrated four bishops on Wednesday in Econe, Switzerland, in direct defiance of Pope Leo XIV, triggering automatic excommunication and pushing the Church toward formal schism.
- Rather than solemnity or crisis, the atmosphere at Econe resembled a celebration — countdown clocks, commemorative wine, baseball caps — signaling a community that sees itself as making history, not breaking faith.
- Pope Leo XIV issued a last-minute warning calling the act a 'sin of extreme gravity,' but the SSPX's leadership responded with calm defiance, declaring they were 'changing absolutely nothing' in their plans.
- The society justifies its actions through a 'state of necessity,' arguing that with only two aging bishops remaining, it cannot adequately serve 800 worship sites across 77 countries without new episcopal leadership.
- The rupture echoes a 1988 schism and traces its roots to the SSPX's founding rejection of Vatican II — a decades-long conviction that the modern Church has abandoned authentic Catholic tradition.
- Even Catholics sympathetic to traditional liturgy are divided, with critics arguing that no claim to tradition can justify defying the very authority that tradition is meant to uphold.
On a Wednesday in early July, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered near Econe in the Swiss Alps to witness something Rome had explicitly forbidden. The Society of St. Pius X consecrated four bishops without papal approval — an act that, under Catholic canon law, triggers automatic excommunication and constitutes formal schism. The atmosphere, remarkably, felt more like a festival than a fracture. Commemorative wine, baseball caps stamped with 'Econe2026,' and a countdown clock on the society's website all signaled a community convinced it was marking a historic occasion rather than committing an ecclesiastical crime.
Pope Leo XIV had tried to intervene. In a letter published the day before the ceremony, he called the consecrations a 'sin of extreme gravity' that would ultimately harm the faithful the SSPX claimed to serve. The society's media manager responded with measured resolve: 'We don't fear it. It pains us immensely, but we believe that the good we seek is greater than the pain that will be inflicted upon us.' The four men consecrated — two Swiss, two French, one American — were presented as a necessity. With only two of the society's original bishops still living, the SSPX argued it could not adequately serve its 800 worship sites across 77 countries without new bishops to ordain priests and preside over confirmations in the ancient Latin rite.
The conflict stretches back to the 1960s, when the Second Vatican Council modernized the Church — permitting Mass in the vernacular, reforming relations with other faiths, and engaging more openly with the contemporary world. French Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre founded the SSPX in direct opposition to those changes, convinced the Church had been infected with modernism and liberalism. When Lefebvre consecrated bishops without permission in 1988, Rome declared it a schismatic act. That wound never healed, and the society's historical associations — Lefebvre's ties to the Vichy regime, a bishop who denied the Holocaust — deepened the estrangement.
The divide, as historian George Weigel has noted, is not merely about liturgical preference. It is a fundamental rejection of Vatican II's teachings on salvation, religious freedom, and the Church's relationship to the wider world. Even Catholics who favor traditional worship have struggled with the SSPX's logic. As one theologian put it: 'You can't serve tradition while disobeying the church and her authority.' The SSPX disagrees — and on that Wednesday in the Alps, with the Pope's warnings unheeded, the Catholic Church moved measurably closer to a formal and perhaps irreversible split.
In the Swiss Alps, in a valley near the town of Econe, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered on a Wednesday in early July to watch their church do something the Vatican had explicitly forbidden. The Society of St. Pius X was about to consecrate four bishops without permission from Pope Leo XIV—an act that, under Catholic canon law, would trigger automatic excommunication for the bishops themselves and the bishop performing the rite, and would formally constitute a schism, an intentional fracture in the unity of the global Catholic Church.
The SSPX had been preparing for this moment with the air of a celebration rather than a defiance. Their website displayed a countdown clock. Seminarians unloaded boxes in cheerful preparation. Participants could purchase commemorative wine—a 75 Swiss franc gift set called "Cuvee des Sacres," featuring four bottles of Swiss wine, each labeled with images of a bishop's miter, ring, cross, or crozier staff. Baseball caps bearing the "Econe2026" seal were distributed. Nothing about the atmosphere suggested a church in crisis; everything suggested a church marking a historic occasion.
The Pope had tried to stop them. In a letter published the day before the ceremony, Leo XIV warned that consecrating bishops without papal mandate constituted a "sin of extreme gravity" that would ultimately harm the very faithful the SSPX claimed to serve. The warning carried weight: automatic excommunication is the harshest penalty the Catholic Church can impose. And yet the SSPX's media manager, Marc-André Mabillard, responded with calm resolve. "We don't fear it," he said. "It pains us immensely, but we believe that the good we seek is greater than the pain that will be inflicted upon us." The society's superior, Rev. Davide Pagliarani, urged the Pope to wait before declaring any penalty. But the SSPX made clear it would not be deterred. "We are changing absolutely nothing in our plans," Mabillard said.
The four men being consecrated were Pascal Schreiber of Switzerland, Michael Goldade of the United States, Michel Poinsinet de Sivry of France, and Marc Hanappier, also of France. The SSPX justified their consecration by invoking what it called a "state of necessity." With only two of the original four bishops still alive, the society argued, it simply could not adequately serve its global flock—800 places of worship spread across 77 countries—without additional bishops to ordain priests and preside over confirmation ceremonies in the ancient Latin rite.
This conflict did not begin on that Wednesday in July. It stretched back decades, to 1988, when the Vatican had declared an earlier set of SSPX bishop consecrations a schismatic act, automatically excommunicating those bishops. The roots went deeper still, to the 1960s and the Second Vatican Council, when the Catholic Church had undergone sweeping modernization. The Council revolutionized the Church's relationships with other Christians, with Jews, and with people of other faiths. It permitted Mass to be celebrated in the vernacular—in the language of the congregation—rather than exclusively in Latin. These reforms had been intended to make the Church more accessible, more engaged with the modern world.
The SSPX, founded by French Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in direct opposition to Vatican II, had never accepted those changes. The society believed that the modernized Church had abandoned true Catholic tradition and had become infected with heresies: modernism, liberalism, ecumenism. Only the SSPX, in their view, upheld the authentic faith of Christ. They celebrated the ancient Latin Mass and rejected what they saw as the Church's compromises with the contemporary world.
But the divide between the SSPX and Rome was far deeper than a preference for Latin over English. As the historian George Weigel had written, the conflict centered on "a rejection of the Second Vatican Council's teaching on the church, salvation, religious freedom, church–state relations, and the church's relationship to other religions." The SSPX's historical roots were also troubling: Lefebvre had been a supporter of the Vichy regime in Nazi-occupied France, and one of the original SSPX bishops had denied the Holocaust.
Many Catholics, even those who favored traditional liturgy, opposed what the SSPX was doing. Rev. Robert Gahl, an ethics expert at the Catholic University of America, articulated the fundamental tension: "You can't serve tradition while disobeying the church and her authority." The SSPX disagreed. They insisted that their consecrations were not a rejection of papal authority but a necessary response to a crisis of faith. They claimed they were not challenging the Pope's power but simply exercising their right to preserve their tradition and minister to their people. The Pope's warnings had no effect. On that Wednesday in the Swiss Alps, the ceremony proceeded as planned, and the Catholic Church moved closer to a formal, irreversible split.
Citas Notables
We don't fear it. It pains us immensely, but we believe that the good we seek is greater than the pain that will be inflicted upon us.— Marc-André Mabillard, SSPX media manager
You can't serve tradition while disobeying the church and her authority.— Rev. Robert Gahl, ethics expert at Catholic University of America
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would a group of Catholics deliberately invite excommunication? What's worth that price?
They believe the modern Church has abandoned the true faith. To them, staying silent would be a greater betrayal than defying Rome. They see themselves as preserving something essential that the institution itself has lost.
But they're not a tiny fringe—they have 800 worship sites in 77 countries. How did such a large movement form?
Vatican II in the 1960s was seismic. It changed everything about how Catholics experienced their faith. For some, it was liberation. For others, it felt like the Church had surrendered its identity. Lefebvre gave those people a home.
The Pope called it a "sin of extreme gravity." Did that language ever work on them before?
Not in 38 years. They've heard warnings before. They've been excommunicated before. At this point, the threat has lost its force. They've made a choice about what they believe matters more.
What strikes you most about how they're treating this—the wine bottles, the countdown clock, the celebration?
They're not acting like rebels. They're acting like they're doing something right, something worth commemorating. That's the real rupture—not just the defiance, but the certainty that they're on the correct side of history.
Can this ever be healed?
Not easily. Both sides have spent decades entrenching. The SSPX sees modernization as corruption. Rome sees tradition as rigidity. They're not arguing about the same thing anymore.