They say all roads lead to Rome—and apparently, one of them is now a rainbow-paved freeway from Hell. This weekend, that road ended at St. Peter’s Basilica, where the world’s most famous cathedral became a parade ground.
The pictures tell the story better than the Vatican ever will—men committing shameless acts with men, holding hands beneath Bernini’s canopy, rainbow-painted crosses lifted in defiance, drag queens grinning for the cameras while the crowd cheered. This wasn’t a rogue stunt. It was the Jubilee. Rome’s own event. Their house party.
The Vatican’s Cardinal Mario Grech’s office sent the invitation. Eight members of We Are Church were registered, their participation blessed by Rome itself, and a meeting with Pope Leo XIV confirmed by Avvenire. The result is what you see…the “holiest” shrine of Rome recast as a carnival of rebellion, under the dome they claim shelters Peter’s bones.



But this is simply the fruit of Rome’s oldest bargain. When you dethrone Scripture and enthrone a man, when you turn papal mutterings into marching orders and call it “infallibility,” you don’t get light—you get drift. You get indulgences and Marian superstition. You get transubstantiation on demand. And now, inevitably, you get rainbow processions in the basilica and applause from the world that once hated her.
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For centuries, Rome kept a mask on. It wagged its finger at the world, pretending to hold a moral line, while denying the very gospel that could save it. That pretense is over. The mask has been ripped away like a discarded vestment, and what’s left is just another religious NGO—blessing what God calls abomination.
This is no accident. This is no misunderstanding. The Jubilee belongs to Leo XIV. The Synod belongs to Leo XIV. The invitation came from his Secretariat. One word from him could have shut this down before the first rainbow flag was waved. Instead, the doors were opened, the cameras rolled, and the Vatican smiled while a liturgy of defiance was staged under its dome.
Rome is not drifting—it is driving. The institution that once postured itself as the last moral guard now hands out keys to those demanding its final demolition. The basilica that once symbolized Rome’s pride is now her parade float.
There is nothing holy about this Holy Year. There is nothing sacred about a rainbow cross waved where Rome claims Peter was laid. There is nothing righteous about turning a year of repentance into a celebration of the sins we are commanded to repent of.
This is the inevitable result of replacing God’s Word with man’s word. Doctrine becomes decoration. Holiness becomes a plaything for synods to vote on. The Roman Church, which once held the line on the bedroom even as it lost the gospel, now blesses the bedroom sins themselves.
Rome was never the true Church. But under Leo XIV, she has dropped even the pretense of being a moral one.






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