Filioque - "and the Son"

The Nicene–Constantinopolitan Creed is a central prayer and foundational statement of faith in the Catholic Church. It is recited during the Mass, serving as a communal profession of belief that summarizes core Christian doctrines, particularly the Trinity, and is used in baptismal liturgies.

Recently, Xavier Reyes-Ayral stated that the visions of Marie-Julie Jahenny, a 19th and 20th century French mystic, Catholic stigmatist, and visionary from Brittany, France, foretold of two anti-popes who would precede the arrival of the Anti-Christ. Francis I and Leo XIV may very well be those popes. Francis I had been elected via known violations of Canon Law, and then in making drastic changes to Canon Law in his decree and new Book VI of the Code of Canon Law, which contains the Church’s universal penal law. If Francis' election was a violation of Canon Law, then all the bishops and cardinals whom Francis elevated to prince of the church (i.e. cardinal) were ineligible to elect Leo. For Leo to be playing with the Trinity and challenging the church's earlier doctrine is pretty important stuff, and may lend credence to Jahenny's prophecy. Could omitting "the filioque" begin the reunification process for the Catholic Church and Orthodoxy, as well as usher in the arrival of the Anti-Christ. Lest we forget, Francis was a Jesuit, and most likely a Freemason. Leo is a mystery and walks like a duck. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it could be a goose. 

After Pope Clement XIV's suppression of the Society of Jesus, or SOJ - Jesuits, in 1773, Weishaupt became a professor of canon law, a position that was held exclusively by the Jesuits until that time. Weishaupt was a jew and a  Rothschild proxy, chosen to form the Illuminati in 1776. Was Francis loyal to the Rothschilds and Satan? There were situations when some felt Francis did not believe in Jesus. It really is some pretty interesting stuff - only Heaven knows the truth.

Best,

Joseph Pede

The Filioque

by Fr Daniel Agbaza

 

The Roman Catholic Church has just signaled something extraordinary: the very concept of magisterial infallibility may not be infallible at all. The newest papal letter marking the 1700th anniversary of Nicaea contains a brief but revealing admission about the filioque that raises questions Rome has worked hard to avoid.

The letter notes that the filioque (which means, “and the Son”) is not part of the ecumenical Nicene–Constantinopolitan Creed, that it was added to the Latin text in 1014, and that it remains a subject of ongoing Orthodox–Catholic dialogue rather than a universally binding dogmatic definition. This is not an incidental observation. It touches directly on the way Rome has presented its own teaching authority.

For centuries, the Catholic Church insisted that the filioque expressed a dogmatic truth binding on all Christians. Medieval councils defended it. Popes treated it as essential to orthodox Trinitarian doctrine. To question it was to question the Magisterium itself.

Yet the present Pope now elevates the original Creed—without the filioque—as the universal standard for Christian unity. The filioque is no longer positioned as a mandatory article of faith, but as a later Western development that can be evaluated, discussed, or even set aside without undermining communion.

This shift creates a significant tension. If the filioque was taught with the weight of infallibility in earlier centuries, then the current papal posture represents a reversal. However, if the current papal stance is correct, then earlier claims about its universally binding status were overstated or mistaken. Either scenario undermines the idea that the Magisterium’s doctrinal judgments are irreformable.

The bottom line is that a teaching cannot be both an infallible dogma and a negotiable theological expression. By treating the filioque as the latter, Rome has implicitly conceded that its doctrinal pronouncements are not always what they are claimed to be—infallible and irreformable.

The quiet implication is difficult to avoid: the Magisterium can err—and history shows that it has.