You can't serve tradition while disobeying the church
In the mist-covered Swiss Alps, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered to witness an act of deliberate ecclesiastical defiance — the Society of St. Pius X consecrating four bishops without the blessing of Pope Leo XIV, triggering automatic excommunication and widening a fracture that has run through the Catholic Church for more than half a century. The society, founded in opposition to the modernizing reforms of Vatican II, does not see itself as breaking from the Church but as preserving it, a conviction that places it in irreconcilable tension with the very institution it claims to love. What unfolded in Econe was not merely a canonical violation but a collision between two visions of sacred authority — one rooted in continuity with Rome, the other in continuity with tradition.
- Pope Leo XIV issued a direct personal appeal the day before the ceremony, calling the planned consecrations a 'sin of extreme gravity' — and was openly ignored.
- A five-hour ceremony in a rain-soaked Alpine field, attended by 16,500 faithful, conferred the episcopacy on four men as the society declared all resulting punishments 'without validity.'
- The SSPX is no marginal movement — with six bishops, 751 priests, and followers across 50 nationalities, it now functions as a fully operational parallel Catholic institution.
- Automatic excommunications have taken effect, but the Vatican has yet to announce how it will formally respond or what further penalties, if any, will follow.
- The act deepens a schism that has persisted since 1988, when founder Archbishop Lefebvre performed the same defiance — and raises urgent questions about whether reconciliation remains possible under Leo XIV.
On a rainy Wednesday morning in the Swiss Alps, near the village of Econe, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered in a field to watch the Society of St. Pius X consecrate four new bishops — without the permission of Pope Leo XIV, and in full knowledge of the excommunications that would follow.
The American pontiff had tried to prevent it. In a letter sent the day before, he warned that proceeding would constitute a sin of extreme gravity and ultimately harm the faithful the society claimed to protect. The appeal changed nothing. At dawn, hundreds of priests processed toward an altar beneath a tent as 16,500 worshippers — families, pilgrims, believers from across the world — sat through a downpour in their finest clothes.
The five-hour ceremony was elaborate and unapologetic: gold-trimmed vestments, Latin chanting, clouds of incense, and the laying-on of hands by Bishop Alfonso de Galarreta, himself excommunicated in 1988 for the same act. Four men received the episcopacy — one Swiss, one American, two French. A priest read aloud a statement declaring all resulting censures invalid. The society's superior insisted the consecrations were an act of love for the Church, necessary for the salvation of souls.
The SSPX is not a fringe group. It operates six bishops, 751 priests, 264 seminarians, and religious communities representing 50 nationalities — a parallel Catholic structure with genuine institutional weight. Founded in 1969 by French Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in opposition to Vatican II's modernizing reforms, the society has long positioned itself as the guardian of authentic tradition. The excommunications from Lefebvre's own 1988 consecrations were lifted by Pope Benedict XVI in 2009, but the society has never been granted legal standing within the Church.
Among those gathered were believers who spoke of seeking a safer road to heaven, of rediscovering tradition, of grief over Rome's direction mixed with pride in the society's courage. Critics, including a Catholic ethics scholar, were blunt: you cannot serve tradition while defying the authority that tradition is built upon.
For Pope Leo XIV, who has prioritized unity and sought to ease tensions with traditionalists, Wednesday's events mark a serious test. The Vatican had not yet announced how it would formally communicate the excommunications or what further response might come. The deeper question — whether this schism can be healed, or whether the SSPX's parallel church will continue to grow — remains unanswered.
On a misty Wednesday in the Swiss Alps, beneath power lines strung across a field near the village of Econe, thousands of traditionalist Catholics gathered to witness an act of open defiance against their pope. The Society of St. Pius X, a breakaway group that has spent decades opposing the modernizing reforms of the 1960s, consecrated four bishops without papal consent—a move that triggered automatic excommunication and deepened one of the Catholic Church's most persistent internal fractures.
Pope Leo XIV had tried to stop them. In a letter sent Tuesday, the American pontiff warned that proceeding with the consecrations amounted to a "sin of extreme gravity" that would ultimately harm the very faithful the society claimed to serve. The appeal fell on unmoved ears. At dawn on Wednesday, as bells tolled through the valley, hundreds of priests processed two-by-two toward an altar erected under a tent. An estimated 16,500 worshippers—many of them families with children too numerous for organizers to count—sat in the field through a downpour, dressed in their finest clothes, ready to witness what their movement considered a necessary act of faith.
The ceremony itself was a five-hour spectacle of pageantry and conviction. Velvet vestments trimmed in gold, clouds of incense, Latin chanting, and the ritualistic laying-on of hands by Bishop Alfonso de Galarreta—himself excommunicated in 1988 for performing a similar consecration—conferred the episcopacy on four men: Pascal Schreiber of Switzerland, Michael Goldade of the United States, Michel Poinsinet de Sivry of France, and Marc Hanappier, also of France. Each received a miter hat, gloves, and a pastoral staff. The livestream reached viewers in multiple languages across the globe. The society even sold commemorative wine—a "Cuvee des Sacres" gift box featuring pinot noir and syrah, each bottle labeled with a bishop's miter—for 75 Swiss francs.
The defiance was deliberate and unapologetic. A priest read aloud a statement declaring that any punishment or censure resulting from the consecrations would "have no validity." The society's superior, Rev. Davide Pagliarani, insisted in his homily that the act was necessary for the salvation of souls, and that it was done precisely because the society loved the pope and the church—they simply could not stand by while, in their view, false shepherds led the faithful astray. The SSPX has long accused the Vatican of harboring heresies and errors, positioning itself as the sole guardian of authentic Catholic tradition.
What made Wednesday's event remarkable was not just the scale of the defiance but the institutional weight behind it. The Society of St. Pius X is no fringe sect. It now operates six bishops, 751 priests, 264 seminarians training across five seminaries, 145 religious brothers, 88 oblates, and 250 religious sisters representing 50 nationalities. It functions as a parallel Catholic structure, with real reach and real resources. The society was founded in 1969 by French Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in opposition to Vatican II—the Second Vatican Council of the 1960s that revolutionized the church's relations with other faiths and allowed Mass to be celebrated in vernacular languages rather than Latin. In 1988, Lefebvre himself consecrated four bishops without papal consent, triggering excommunications that Pope Benedict XVI later lifted in 2009, though the SSPX remains without legal standing in the church.
Among the 16,500 gathered in Econe were believers who saw themselves as defending the faith against a world gone wrong. Arlina Onglao, a 71-year-old travel agent from the Philippines, said she felt she was on "a safer road to heaven" by standing with the society. Wulfran Lindzondzo, a 42-year-old medical researcher from Gabon, spoke of wanting to "rediscover tradition." Eduardo Limón from Mexico expressed simultaneous sadness and joy—sad that Rome continued to reject tradition, happy that the society had the courage to proceed. Yet not all Catholics agreed. Rev. Robert Gahl, an ethics expert at the Catholic University of America, argued plainly: "You can't serve tradition while disobeying the church and her authority."
For Pope Leo XIV, who has made church unity a priority and sought to heal tensions with traditionalists that worsened under his predecessor, Wednesday represented a major test of papal authority. The Vatican had not immediately commented on how it would formally communicate the excommunications or what other penalties might follow. The question now hanging over the church is whether this act of schism can be healed, or whether the SSPX's parallel structure will continue to grow, drawing away Catholics who believe the modern church has abandoned them.
Notable Quotes
We consider every punishment and censure brought to bear against this step will have no validity.— SSPX priest, reading statement at the ceremony
I feel like I'm on a safer road to heaven.— Arlina Onglao, 71-year-old travel agent from the Philippines
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the Pope's warning fail? What made these bishops decide the risk was worth it?
Because for them, the risk of staying silent was greater. They believe the church itself has strayed from truth. A papal letter carries weight only if you accept the Pope's authority to begin with—and they've decided that authority has been compromised by modernism.
But they claim to love the Pope. How do you reconcile that with direct disobedience?
In their minds, they're saving the Pope from himself. They see false shepherds around him, leading him astray. Loving the institution means, to them, refusing to follow it into what they see as error. It's a kind of tough love, but it's also a claim that they know better.
The ceremony had a celebratory feel—wine sales, countdown clocks, 16,500 people. Does that suggest this is less about principle and more about building a movement?
Both things are true at once. They're celebrating because they believe they've done something sacred and necessary. But yes, the scale and organization also show they're not a desperate fringe—they're a functioning parallel church with resources, reach, and growing confidence.
What happens now? Can the Pope bring them back?
That's the real question. Benedict XVI lifted excommunications in 2009, but the SSPX still has no legal standing. Leo could try reconciliation, but the gap has only widened. They've now shown they'll act without permission. The Vatican has to decide whether to negotiate or let the schism deepen.
Do ordinary Catholics in the pews care about this?
Some do deeply—those who feel abandoned by the modern church. But many others, even traditional ones, see it as disobedience that weakens the church. The schism isn't just between Rome and Econe. It's also between different kinds of Catholics who disagree on what fidelity means.