Occult symbols in the Jubilee 2025 logo?

Readers have perhaps come across the logo selected by the Pope for the Vatican’s 2025 Jubilee “year of hope”. Like most artwork coming out of Rome these days, there’s nothing remotely Catholic about it, and like many of those ecclesial projects which should be prayerfully and solemnly thought out, the logo was the result of a competition which was open to anyone at all.

Some say it reminds them of Happy Hour at a gay bar, which is perhaps unsurprising as its creator is a gay masseuse. After being contacted by a Vatican official, who told him he had won, the creator uttered an ambiguous compliment about the prelate, saying that he had “felt the human closeness of Monsignor Fisichella.”

Very disappointed in the result and its use of LGBTI rainbow colours, one Catholic art historian remarked: “The Vatican presents its emblem of hope as a badge of ‘pride.’ And pride comes before a fall.”

The artist apparently had no clear idea in mind for his artwork but believes that is no impediment to its influence: “I think my work will have a great effect, I hope so but I really believe it because I have never given it a connection, a single label, I have never framed it. In a basic concept, I left it open to everyone and gave it to the world.

Fr Z shared the little gem (at right) on his website. Note the similarity with the logo’s colours? Proof that the logo will please the entire spectrum of toddlers from ages two to three.

A friend of mine has a somewhat different take of the logo, however. He is someone with an interest in occult symbology and is experienced at ‘seeing through’ what most of us overlook or simply take for granted. He believes that the emblem represents a sinister agenda being played out at the Vatican, one that mocks faithful Catholics by hiding in plain sight:

The logo is coded numerically and by colours, and the elements and colours are quite common in New Age art.

One of their favourite wiccan/masonic occult codes is what they call “functions of four”, “four cubed” being a prime example. 4 coloured heads x 4 coloured bodies x 4 symbol (the pagan equal-armed cross) = 4x4x4 = 4 cubed = 64.

4 cubed: the number of the goddess, Mother Earth, Satan in a skirt.

The colours blue, green, yellow, red represent earth, air, fire and water, that is, the pagan elements of Mother Earth, alchemy and magic(k). (For more on magick, see here: “Magick, Liber ABA, Book 4 is widely considered to be the magnum opus of 20th-century occultist Aleister Crowley.”)

They love the equal-armed cross – it’s an old pagan symbol. I see the gay theme as secondary to the numerology and maybe the colours. This logo is, numerologically and by colours, above all a tribute to Mother Earth, alchemy and magick, with of course a gay twist as you have identified.

Fiona Foley (the indigenous artist whose occult-inspired works were used in the Brisbane Cathedral) would have loved this.

Little wonder Pachamama Papa Francis wants people to know he personally chose this design.

Occult specialist brought in for Italian church design

NOTE: This article was updated on Feb 21, 2022, to include the link to this video from Rome Reports. In the video, you can see the architect explaining that the rough stone altar represents ‘giving oneself to the earth.”

When we see a church like the newly-completed San Giacomo Apostolo in Ferrara, Italy, our second question is usually, “Why?” (Our first question might be along the lines of, “Is this for real??”)

Designed by a secular architectural firm who tried to create something that “didn’t look like a church”, the building does have most of the essentials of a church – even though they are rather dark, distorted versions. There is an altar, baptistry, Blessed Sacrament chapel, nave, spartan Stations of the Cross, and multiple crosses, although none appear to hold a corpus.

The design is the result of a competition run by the Italian Bishops Conference, who needed a new church for the city of Ferrara. The exterior is meant to echo the finale of the local hot-air-balloon festival, in which the balloons slowly deflate. I suspect that this does not represent the hopes and dreams of the Fathers fading away after the Council, but it would make an apt metaphor.

In the words of the architect, one enters the church through a grove which seems innocent enough until one realises that groves are often associated with paganism and with the occult. They are even mentioned in the Bible in connection with the worship of false gods. Of course, this may be simply a turn of phrase, as the poplars surrounding the site were obviously planted long before this church was built. But it is an odd choice of words, seeing as the trees are lining the perimeter, rather than being grouped together, as the word “grove” suggests.

Above the altar is an oculus, (Latin for eye; in architectural terms this refers to any eye-shaped feature, such as a hole at the centre of a dome); these are quite often found in churches. This particular one is decidedly creepy, though, surrounded by cold concrete and interwoven timbers, punctuated by the immense, rough cross, and crowning the almost windowless church. The overall effect is less than inviting, and the lack of windows is, well ….. somewhat Masonic.

View of the sanctuary, topped by the oculus, with the cross suspended over it – all the charm of a Goth nightclub.
Another view of the enormous cross, which looks ready to crush the occupants, and gives little assurance that Our Lord will help us to carry ours.

To the left, you can see the way both crosses almost intersect, with another cross mounted at an angle on the far wall; the clashing, intersecting crosses found in Paul VI’s Masonic-inspired portrait come to mind – more on that here.

The cross that adorns the wall behind the sanctuary is not a Christian one: the radiating arms of the cross are of the same length, suggesting a Rosicrucian cross. Rosicrucianism is an occult movement, linked

with Freemasonry and which contains elements of Kaballah, Alchemy, Christian Mysticism and Hermeticism. Jewels surround this cross: these have no apparent Christian reference, but the architect thought they might remind the faithful of angels. At least that’s what she told the media.

The jewels, stone crosses and bizarre black statuary are the work of the occult-artist, Enzo Cucchi, who was invited by the architects to collaborate with them. The designers describe Cucchi’s black statues, which represent scenes from the Old and New Testaments, as resembling “oozing basalt.”

One of the many cement crosses, all sans corpus, represented as being ‘taped’ to the wall.
“Oozing basalt” statues and …. fireflies???

Enzo Cucci is part of an art movement known as transversalism, and was included in an art exhibition entitled S*** and Die. (Caution – there’s some mild nudity if you click on the link.) The whole thing gets even worse: a documentary film made about that exhibit was called “Seance.”

The baptismal font (right) in this unappealing chamber sits atop what looks like a bidet. Decorum prevents me from drawing a parallel with the art show mentioned above.

The stone font is actually an authentic liturgical antique: it came from an abandoned church in Bergamo. Bergamo, for the historically-minded, is the birthplace of John XXIII and was once the bishopric of the (rather evil) Cardinal Radini-Tadeschi.

Back to the occultist, Cucchi: here’s what one biographer had to say about him:

“Cucchi is the painter as seer, demon and saint, possessor and possessed, he is at once the creator and subject of his tale. He is the painter as mad visionary, participant in and witness to the nether world from which one can emerge after a ritual of fire and purification, to the realm of the sublime.”

Description of Cucchi by a devoted fan and art critic.

The painter as demon? Hardly the kind of man one would want working on a church. Unless, of course, one wanted a church reminiscent of an occult-themed safe-room.

The Archbishop of Ferrara, Gian Carlo Perega, is an interesting character. He is by no means a traditionalist, as you would expect after seeing this strange building, but he recently – and post Traditiones Custodes – set up TLM personal parish. Perhaps this was to appease, if not to protect, the rather large traditionalist base in his Archdiocese. Perego is, however, better known as a progressive who promotes the plight of migrants.

I know the sedevacantists like to have fun with churches like this one: I suppose they see it as a vindication of their position. To me, it is just sad. Sad for the people who worship there and don’t know any better. Sad for the priest who doesn’t understand his vocation. Sad for the bishop who thinks being edgy will make him popular. And very sad for the liturgical designer who thinks there are no eternal consequences for making occult motifs an integral part of a Catholic church.

Masonic elements in a California Cathedral

Christ Cathedral in Orange County, California, is another example of a modern church with Masonic overtones. The anti-Catholic theme begins outside with this contemporary take on a Masonic obelisk ….

Exterior of Christ Cathedral, California

… and continues all the way to the sanctuary and altar. The altar itself is square, unlike the rectangular design of traditional Catholic altars. It is topped by a strange crucifix with crescent-moon shapes attached to the four ends of the cross. Crescent moons are a common symbol in witchcraft and the occult.

Theologian and philosopher, Peter Kwasniewski, gives this description of the sanctuary and offers an example of Freemasonic architecture for comparison:

“The location of the altar in the center of the room, the placement and type of presiders’ chairs, the dark torches on the ground punctuating the corners, the square mensa, and the all-seeing eye below the altar table at once bring us to a blood-curdling full stop. Can it be by accident that the altar at Christ Cathedral is a carbon copy of the altar of Freemasonry? Do we have a “reasonable hope” for denial? Even a cursory look at a Masonic altar makes the visual and symbolic link inescapable.

If one ignores the superior craftsmanship and style of the following Masonic temple, one can see the exact parallel in the disposition of the chairs — the tall chair in the center flanked by lower seating on either side — and then the square altar with the freestanding candles. (There is of course a fourth candle in the church, for it would have looked too strange to retain the asymmetry of three.)

https://onepeterfive.com/dark-symbolism-christ-cathedral/
Dr Kwasniewski gave this example of a Masonic Lodge layout

One liturgical ‘expert’ who contributed to the Christ Cathedral was Brother William Woeger. Brother Woeger designed the “Crux Gemmata” – the crucifix – as well as the candlesticks, reliquary and other features. Jesus’ crown of thorns and the altar’s reliquary are studded with strange crystals, reminiscent of those used by New Agers. Below is another design by Brother Woeger, which again shows Masonic influence. Note the checked floor, another square altar, surrounded by large candlesticks and the rows of pews which face each other.

I might return to Brother Woeger in a future article.