The SSPX Thinks We’re All Going To Hell (And Honestly, Same)
Look, I get it. The world’s on fire, housing costs more than my soul, and we’re all just one bad TikTok away from a complete mental breakdown. In times like these, people usually turn to religion for comfort, hope, and maybe a potluck. But the Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX for those of you who didn’t go to Catholic school) has decided that the only appropriate response to the modern era is to double down on the Latin Mass, excommunicate everyone in their hearts, and act like the Vatican II council was a drunken frat party gone wrong.
If you haven’t heard of the SSPX, congrats on not doom-scrolling Catholic Twitter. They’re basically the “back in my day” grandpa of the Catholic Church, except grandpa believes the Pope is a heretic and that the only valid Mass is one where the priest has his back to you and mumbles in Latin for 90 minutes. They split from the mainstream Church back in 1988 when Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre decided that Pope John Paul II wasn’t trad enough and ordained four bishops without asking for permission. You know, standard family drama.
Fast forward to 2025, and the SSPX is still out here, running their own parishes, schools, and summer camps where kids probably learn how to properly hold a thurible and debate the finer points of transubstantiation. They recently made headlines again because, surprise surprise, they’re still mad about everything. A new statement from their Superior General, Father Davide Pagliarani, basically told the world that modern society is a cesspool of sin, that the Vatican has abandoned the faith, and that anyone who isn’t in their club is probably toast.
And honestly? I’m not even mad. I’m impressed by the commitment to the bit.
Let’s break down the SSPX’s latest hot take, because it’s a banger. They argue that the Church after Vatican II (the 1960s council that said “hey, maybe we should talk to other religions and not burn them at the stake”) has lost its way. They claim that the modern Church is infected with “liberalism, secularism, and indifferentism”—which sounds like a law firm that represents terrible people. They want to go back to a time when the Church was the only game in town, when you couldn’t just skip Mass and go to brunch, and when everyone knew their place (spoiler: your place was in the pew, shut up and pray).
But here’s the thing that makes the SSPX truly viral-worthy: they’re not just a fringe group of weirdos in polyester cassocks. They have actual influence. They’ve got parishes in like 60 countries. They run seminaries that are packed with young men who want to be priests. And their shtick—traditionalism, aesthetic purity, and a deep, burning hatred for anything post-1965—is catnip for a certain kind of young person. You know the type: the guy who unironically owns a fedora, listens to Gregorian chant, and thinks the Council of Trent was the peak of human civilization.
And let’s be real, there’s a certain appeal to their message. The world is chaotic. The Church has been rocked by scandals that would make Dante blush. The Pope says things like “who am I to judge?” and some people want a Pope who will judge, and judge harshly, preferably with a side of Latin and incense. The SSPX offers certainty in an uncertain time. They offer a clear enemy (everyone else), a clear path (the Tridentine Mass, and nothing else), and a clear reward (salvation, but only for you and your ten kids named after obscure saints).
The problem is that the SSPX is also, objectively, a hot mess of theological stubbornness. They’re in a canonical gray area—basically, the Vatican says they’re in an “irregular situation,” which is Catholic code for “we’re really annoyed but we don’t want to start a civil war.” Pope Francis has tried to reach out, even giving them some limited ability to hear confessions and perform marriages. But the SSPX basically responded with “cool, thanks, but you’re still a heretic and we don’t recognize your authority.”
This is the kind of energy I can only respect. Imagine telling your boss, “I’ll do the work, but I don’t think you’re a real manager.” That’s the SSPX. They’re the employee who shows up, does their job, but spends the whole time muttering about how the company lost its way after the merger.
Now, why does this matter to you, the average American scrolling through your feed while avoiding your responsibilities? Because the SSPX is a perfect mirror of our current cultural moment. We live in an era of radical polarization. Everyone is retreating into their own silos, their own safe spaces, their own versions of reality where they are the only ones who are right. The SSPX is just doing that for the Catholic Church. They’re the ultimate “no, we’re not the crazy ones, everyone else is crazy” group.
And let’s not pretend that this isn’t a vibe. How many times have you felt like the only sane person in a world that’s gone mad? How many times have you wanted to just go back to a simpler time, before smartphones, before social media, before everyone started fighting about pronouns and vaccine mandates? The SSPX is just the religious version of that. They want to go back to a time before guitars at Mass, before altar girls, before the priest faced you like he’s your therapist. They want the mystery back. They want the fear of God back. They want a world where you don’t ask questions, you just kneel.
But here’s the kicker: the SSPX is also deeply, hilariously out of touch. Their latest statement bemoans the “loss of the sense of sin” and the “confusion between good and evil.” My brother in
Final Thoughts
Having watched the Society of St. Pius X navigate the treacherous waters between schism and reconciliation for decades, it's clear that the real crisis isn't doctrinal minutiae, but the Vatican's willingness to grant a practical amnesty for the sake of institutional unity. Ultimately, this saga reveals a Church so anxious to heal the wounds of the Second Vatican Council that it risks granting a permanent safe harbor to those who fundamentally reject the council's spirit, creating a peculiar kind of internal exile that serves neither tradition nor reform. The irony is bitter: by refusing to fully discipline or fully embrace them, Rome has ensured the SSPX remains a perpetual ghost at the banquet, haunting a Church that can't decide whether to set a place for them or shut the door.