In the past, I had the terrible experience of being betrayed by my friends. My jailer pretended to be my friend, pretended to repent, pretended to be by my side, but at the end of my life, I was endowed with a keen discernment of spirits and knew that I could not trust him and the people who lived with me day and night.
My prison in exile was the Mater Ecclesiae monastery, and there was a special reason for that. God saw to it that I was inside, as his rightful shepherd, and not outside, to support the Church, to pray and live in penance, through a seemingly hidden and silent life, without any comfort except the occasional visits that my jailer allowed because he had to obey his Lord, who saw to it that I was isolated, devoid of communication with the world.
But I could never be deprived of communication with God. The more I suffered, the closer I came to the beating of Christ’s heart. My life became a constant prayer of intercession. I discovered the way to be truly free, and that was through prayer. My mind was never trapped as some would have liked. My decaying body was tortured and treated with drugs that threatened rather than improved my health, bringing me closer to eternity bit by bit.
I was aware of everything that was happening around me. God gave me clarity in his goodness, even though I was in such a painful situation. As the rightful representative of Christ, the only Shepherd, I was held captive by my executioners. Those who one day appointed me shepherd of shepherds were the same ones who would crucify me a short time later, just as it had happened to our Lord Jesus on Palm Sunday.
It is precisely in our human limitations and weaknesses that we are called to be conformed to Christ. With every minute that passed, I could clearly read my life in the light of Christ. Step by step I saw the fulfillment of the prophecies, and at the end of my life I saw myself more in Heaven than on Earth. I fully realized that I could be more useful to the Church if I went to God than if I stayed here in this valley of tears. And this thought alone encouraged me to carry the cross forward out of love for Him who gave himself completely to the cross out of love for me.
This is my public confession. I, Benedict XVI, Vicar of Christ, the last and legitimate successor of the Apostle Peter, to whom the Lord has given the key to the Kingdom of Heaven, have been thrown into prison like Peter. Because I proclaimed the truth, I have become hateful to the powers of the world, who with obvious cruelty have broken my clay body, but have freed my immortal spirit, which now enjoys the blessed sight of God, the reward of those who remain faithful to His Son Jesus Christ, to whom all honor and glory belongs forever.
I would have felt their boundless hatred of me, and had it not been for the mercy of God, who was always with me, I would certainly have succumbed to these attacks. They had several occasions to kill me, but God preserved me, for my hour had not yet come until the day when I would be eliminated. I knew that with my death the sheep would spread, but I was sure that the Divine Shepherd would gather them in His flock. I was only an instrument in the plan of salvation, nothing more, and soon the great purification would come. It is our Lord Jesus Christ who is truly in charge of His Church.
After my death, there was great confusion. Somehow, God allowed the wickedness of the hearts of those who claim to be true disciples of Christ, and who in reality become the Judas of this age, to cause even more confusion and division within the Church. With speed and cunning, they staged a coup d’état and convened a conclave to choose my supposed successor, bypassing my authority. In the conclave, there was a majority of Masonic cardinals, a long-organized attempt to undermine the college of cardinals, for which there is irrefutable evidence with extensive information.
The infiltration was led by Masonic allies in the United States, and at the behest of that country’s then-president, Barak Obama, pressure was put on the conclave demanding that I be replaced by their candidate because the world’s major elites, and China in particular, demanded it. They had frozen the Vatican bank and even threatened to kill me if I didn’t resign the next morning. It was an untenable situation that floated like a sharp sword in my soul. It is clear that the media was manipulated by the Vatican to destroy my image and make the world hate me.
The country of the United States contributed the most to my coup. Every time I said a word, there was great uproar among the cardinals, especially among the German clergy, who were among the first to raise their hands against me, and then I said to myself: a son who raises his hand against his father and causes a violent schism and encourages other communities to follow his example of stubborn rebellion. This situation reached such an unbearable and discouraging level for me that the Holy Spirit of God inspired me in prayer to decide to continue my Peter ministry in a different way, not so much actively and publicly as contemplative and prayerful. In this way I managed to divert attention from me within the central administration of the Curia of the Vatican, as they demanded of me, and thus avert the greatest schism of all time.
As Supreme Pontifex, I stood alone, without the support of anyone except a few loyal cardinals. Suddenly I was alone with God, and I realized that when human words have no effect, there is only one way out: prayer. And that’s what I did. I immersed myself in prayer, lived in repentance, which was torture for my modernist enemies, the friends of pederasty and all those revolutionary ideologies that go against God’s law and all Christian morality.
I, with the help of divine grace, have turned the bitter into the sweet and have taken advantage of the suffering for the good of the whole Church and her Mystical Body entrusted to me. It is precisely in human weakness and limitation that we are called to live in accordance with Christ. They manipulated the course of my life and made me a despicable person to the world, who had to be replaced as soon as possible. They spread the untrue rumor that I had protected pedophile priests, when the reality was very different.
In imitation of Christ, the divine Master, I remained silent and did not open my mouth, I relied on divine intervention, placed myself in the hands of the righteous Judge, and like a meek lamb I was led to the slaughter to shed my blood for the good of the Church. As a true pastor of the Catholic Church, I did not back down, even though I was called a traitor by the manipulated and generously paid information of the various media. My enemies said that the Church would harden with me and that I intended to return to the pre-conciliar era.
I was the most reviled and discredited pope. My name caused gnashing of teeth in the corridors of the Vatican Curia. Among the many slanders that were spread about me was that I was a coward who would get off the cross and flee from the wolves. Everything I said in public or in private was twisted with the sole intention of organizing a coup. Another said: He is the worst pope we have ever had, and so one by one the swords drilled into my heart. Faced with the harsh reality I saw, I went my way, and that way was to follow Christ to Calvary. The disobedience of the college of cardinals reached such a level that I could not possibly rule.
As a shepherd, I was always respectful, cordial, and polite in my dealings with everyone, without exception. In return, I received contempt, slander, and insults. My so-called personal secretary was not my confidant, on the contrary, I knew he could not be trusted. He was my executioner, an open microphone for my enemies. It was Francis who had me locked up in solitary confinement and heavy guard. Apparently, he feared that I would say something that would damage his reputation. He feared that I would reveal the truth and thwart his secret plans to destroy the Catholic Church. I made that clear to Georg (Gänswein) when I told him: It seems that Pope Francis no longer trusts me.
Even the carefully selected and trained nuns who accompanied me could not be trusted. I felt very lonely, I was literally in a prison. More than once I wept before the Blessed Sacrament, looked to Christ, and asked for the strength not to give in and for the wisdom to do God’s will in all things.
My secretary Georg saw me do it. It was in the second year of my exile in prison and exactly on my secretary’s birthday when I spoke these words: Georg, today is a special day for you. He said to me, “Thank you, Your Holiness,” and he looked at me with a fixed gaze. I continued: You know that my true program of government was not to do my will, but to listen to the word and will of the Lord, together with the whole Church, and to be led by Him. He replied, “Yes, Holy Father, I know.” “Well, today I want to tell you that it is our Lord Jesus Christ who, in this hour of our history, in this moment of my apparent uselessness, leads the Church and will bring it to a happy end, because He has promised that the powers of hell will not overpower the Church. Do you believe what I’m telling you?” He said, “Yes, Your Holiness,” and there was a great silence around us and we looked at each other. For the first and only time, I saw in his gaze a trace of genuine friendship. At that moment I prayed to the Lord in the depths of my soul for the conversion of Georg and all my enemies, and I said in the depths of my heart, “Lord forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.”
I was certainly in Mary’s school of silence, which kept everything in her heart, and among the many things I learned in that painful exile was silence. Silence is not weakness, silence is not fear or cowardice, silence is the wisdom of God, it is prudence. And the truly wise person is the one who knows how and when to shut up, not the one who talks a lot. And there are times when the Holy Spirit prompts to speak or remain silent. The silence of the righteous prompts the righteousness of God to act, for we put ourselves in the… in the hands of God, the righteous judge.
When I began my pontificate, I made it clear that I listen to God’s Word with the Church, always do His holy will, am always docile to His Word, always willing to forgive as often as necessary and give a second chance, for it is the souls who must insist on a true shepherd who always avoids judgment not to be judged and who is willing to correct when it does is needed; and while I recognize that one has human weaknesses, and I had them, it is also true that I have never let go of the hand of God, who was always in the boat with me. And although there were many storms, I never distrusted the power of God.
Despite my many failures, I always remained faithful to the Lord and repeated in my heart the words of Peter: Lord, You know, You know that I love You. It was very painful for my broken humanity to discover that they were slowly poisoning me, for I heard my master Georg Gänswein, without them noticing, giving instructions from Francis to the nuns who served me. I heard him say: keep giving him the medicine, do everything so that it seems natural, suspect nothing, do not ask questions, orders from above, do not worry, you will be well rewarded. I pretended not to notice anything, and from that moment on, every food or medicine I was given was torture, I avoided eating it for fear that it might have been poisoned. And this lack of food was even more damaging to my already weak health. I always blessed the drugs because I was sure they replaced them.
My life in prison, which had lasted almost 10 years, was coming to an end. God was in a hurry with me. Even if I had wanted to speak clearly, I could not have done it. They wouldn’t even have believed me. They would have twisted my words, I had no one around me to trust. It was a very stressful situation, so God enlightened me so that I could somehow communicate through codes and parables, through the books, hoping that at least someone would understand the way I spoke.
On the occasion of my 95th birthday, Francis came to visit me, brought a bottle of wine with caramel paste and asked if he could be alone with me. I never thought his cynicism and capacity for evil were so outspoken. Again I saw his hatred of me, of the Church and, above all, of boundless hatred of the Mother of God. I had always considered myself a peaceful and diplomatic person: What could I do? Only suffering in silence, in great solitude, for at the end of my life I found myself in perfect agreement with the suffering Christ who had also been abandoned by all divine help. That was part of my catharsis. I understood.
My office as Christ’s vicar required a great purification. Much had been entrusted to me, and soon I would have to answer to God for all my administration. I had to answer, not only for my soul as a baptized Christian, but for the whole church. What a great responsibility, what a heavy cross I had to bear as pope. From that moment on, everything was clear to me, and this realization made me doubly uncomfortable.
Under the seal of confession and in his usual flattering attitude of false brotherhood, Bergoglio, or rather Francis, told me in a mocking tone and in his very cynical and ruthless way that he liked to have the Church in his hands, that he would completely destroy her and bury the Eucharist forever. He said: I will wipe your God off the face of the Earth, I have many allies to help me, not only from within but also from without. The Curia kneels at my feet, and the College of Cardinals, they are faithful dogs, as you know. You can’t deny that they are faithful, that they obey, and he smiled mischievously. “I brought them here for you, and in case you don’t know, I’ll confirm it for you. Consider it a favor on my part. I’m not as bad as they say. He smiled again, this time icy.
His gaze frightened me, and having him in front of me was like seeing Satan. He confessed to me that one of his goals was to throw mud at the Mother of God, to eradicate dogma if possible, and to trample on the Eucharist. He told me that he would eradicate the extraordinary rite in one fell swoop, leaving only the current rite with its many prophecies and sacrileges. Eventually, the new rite was worked out by a Freemason who was an expert in liturgy, and he confessed to me that he felt joy when he went to the Tepeyac and insulted the Queen of Heaven face to face.
He talked about Mexico. And then he took great pleasure in the pantomime he performed with a supposed devotion of Russia and the world to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. He said to me, coming even closer and with irony: Do you want to know who I have invoked for the beloved image of Our Lady of Fatima? I replied to him that it was not necessary. He told me he would tell me anyway because he knew it would hurt me: I have called upon the King of Darkness, you understand? I stayed in complete silence, then he said, “Oh grandfather, I admit I had a lot of fun, but it’s time to end the farce. The Catholics are ignorant and mindless, and it is good that they should continue like this, obedient and submissive to everything that is said to them.” And he smiled again.
He confessed to me that it gave him the most satisfaction to see me suffer. He told me that he liked it and that I was his prey, that he had my life in his hands, that he could lock me up for good at any moment, that it wasn’t the first time he did it and that he didn’t mind. He said: Do you know what euthanasia is? And he smiled, shook his head, and said with a look, “Are you in pain?” I was shocked by everything I heard him say, I could not believe such wickedness, in his heart there was only hatred and from his lips came nothing but horror.
Immediately he said to me, Holy Father, do not worry, your suffering will soon be shortened, I promise you, and I looked at him and answered: You fear God not. And he said to me, I know no fear, and he added, What is fear? I said to myself, He is the destroyer of the Church, and it is clear that he was under the influence of Satan. Then my thoughts flew to Fatima and tears came to my eyes. I was sure that my days were numbered and that the curtain of my life would soon fall.
The person responsible for shortening those days was my jailer. My seemingly loyal secretary Gänswein. This task had been entrusted to him, and he had to fulfill it without leaving the slightest suspicion of murder. The day before my death, my secretary received a phone call. It was Francis, and he said this phrase, “It’s time,” and he hung up. I had heard it because he was near me and I thought I was asleep. I did not resist my executioner. I waited patiently for my end. What else could I have said or done since I was completely isolated and guarded 24 hours a day, since they were really in charge within the Vatican and they, who are now in the majority thanks to Francis, manipulated information and published a truth that was modified and generously paid by the Vatican itself.
It is no secret that throughout history, many popes were murdered and poisoned by the same Masonic cardinals who had infiltrated the central government. After they became secretaries of state, many of these murders were dismissed as natural death or heart attack, and to dispel any suspicion, they were canonized. To name just one example: the files of Pope John Paul I and the great John Paul II, on whom they had made several failed assassination attempts, and who was eventually silenced with an unnecessary and conveniently performed laryngectomy. Finally, I am here, and I can assure you that there are many ways to kill.
His gaze was a glimpse into infinity, that of Benedict XVI. I couldn’t believe, sister Benedicta says, what I heard. I felt a great pain in my heart and a great indignation, but there I was, sitting on the edge of the bed, in complete silence, writing as if I were the pope’s secretary and saying to myself: What a horror, my God. What a lowness. Then the Holy Father looked at me and said, “Be strong and keep writing. I still have a lot to say, all of this is already part of the story. Write, daughter.”
I said, “I listen to you, Holy Father”, and he went on:
As Pope, I always wore the white soutane, hoping that the world would realize that I had never resigned and that I was under pressure to act and make decisions for the good of the Church. In the few conversations I could have, I always expressed myself in a veiled way so as not to arouse the suspicion of my enemies who were constantly watching me, and I had to be very careful.
My enemies were numerous and had many microphones. Now I enjoy great peace, for God is righteous and He always chooses the right time. These are times when many think they own and know the truth. The truth is only one: Christ, and to Him alone we must always remain faithful, even if it costs us life, as it does with me.