Monday, October 26, 2015


Many of us who have never experienced "the Way" do not understand why people just don't leave it when confronted with obvious heretical teaching, psychological brutality, violence to their family, financial extortion, mental slavery, blackmail, and so on. Perhaps this letter from someone who escaped will help. But as you will see, the wounds remain.

Excommunication literally means to be "X'd" out of
a community.
And just a note why so many bishops support this great evil. 1. They get a third of "trash bag" collection. 2. They are too lazy to raise their own vocations so Kiko provides them. 3. They are too lazy to do the hard work of evangelization themselves so they opt for a turn-key Kiko franchise. And there is one more: Satan does not waste time with the sheep. The shepherd is the prize. 

The following was originally written in another language and run through a translator so there may be some inconsistencies in the English.

When I was expelled from my community and the Church, I felt like a 
knife sliced me in half without anesthesia. I do remember that stance 
as my spiritual death. I have not been able to set foot in a church ever 
since. I tried but I can’t. In my life this has become the silence of God. 
In  the  worse  moments  of  my  life,  where  suffering  is  unbearable,  the 
hardest  thing  is  the  silence  that  remains  after  your  soul  has  been 
destroyed.  Those  who  have  experienced  dramatic  moments  such  as 
these,  know  that  what  is  always  left  is  silence.  This  is  perhaps  what 
best defines a traumatic shock too immense to be expressed with the 
sound  of  words.  The  silence  after  a  bomb  ...  Something  like  that  is 
what happened to me that day.

The priest who expelled me was my  catechist’s  cathechist (one level
above mine). He has “walked” with Kiko, I do not know since when, but 
I know they have been together. He's retired now, I do not know if he’s 
a honorary pastor or priest in a parish, or what... he probably doesn’t 
even  remember  me,  because  he  never  apologized.  Had  he 
remembered  me,  I  believe  he  would  have  apologized.  Therefore,  I 
think  he  does  not  really  care  about  what  he  did.  In  his  mind,  he 
probably  thought  what  he  did  was "normal". Kiko  was  aware.  I  know 
this because there were some serious problems in the community and 
our catechists spoke to Kiko himself. Kiko gave them some advice and 
then  sent these  catechists to  speak to the  community,  supposedly to 
help.  But  in  reality  the  visit  consisted  of  a  type  of  Sanhedrin  trial. 
Everyone  was  full  of  fear  because  of  the  only  solution  that  is 
consistently  used  in  the  Way  for  everything:  are  you  willing  to  follow 
Jesus Christ ... Yes or no? If you said yes then the next question was: 
are you willing to obey the catechist above all and always? So I replied 
"yes, provided that the catechists follow the doctrine and teachings of 
the Church". And then the problems started. Because it is not allowed 
to add anything to that "yes" they want to hear.

So  when  they  heard  that  response  they  understood  that  I  was 
conditioning them, and therefore I was conditioning Christ. And so they 
repeated the same question. And I answered again. And then... war…. 
Tremendous  violence,  mental  violence,  violence  in  their  speech, 
absolute  psychologic  violence  ...  and  the  people  there  were  all  very 
scared.  That  night  I  saw  my  “brothers”  in  our  community,  those  that 
were usually high as castles, parents, grown men, trembling with fear, 
whimpering like children, really terrified. Why so much terror?

The answer is obvious. When you enter the “way” at 13 years old and 
your parents and  siblings are all in the “way”,  your husband,  your in-laws,
 your  co-­workers,  your  soul  friends  are  all  there  and  you  think 
about  the remote  possibility  of  suddenly  losing  everything...  so  many 
years of your life thrown away ... what can you explain to your young 
children? What do you say when your house is empty? What will you 
do when none of your friends look at you again or laugh with you? Who 
are  you  going  to  have  a  beer  with  and  talk  to,  or  have  dinner  or 
celebrate your birthday with? Our whole life was built around the “way”.

That  was  really  what  happened  to  us,  my  husband  and  me.  My 
husband  was  also  expelled.  And  suddenly  it  was  as  if  our  lives  fell 
apart, like the Hiroshima bomb. It was not a life worth living. There was 
only  death  and  silence. And  we  as  a  couple  and  our  young  children 
were  left  alone,  abandoned.  Thirty  odd  years  we  had  behind  to  start 
from  scratch.  I  do  not  want  to  comment  publicly  our  worst  personal 

They killed our faith. I felt as a woman whose baby was robbed. And 
where was our mother Church? I responded immediately to that priest 
that  I  would  personally  go  to  (the name of the bishop)  and 
told him really convinced that the Church could not allow that! Who did 
this priest think he was to expel us out of the Catholic Church? He just 
could not do it!

When  he  mocked  us,  laughing  and  saying  that  he  and  (the bishop) were 
good friends and it wouldn’t do any good to go and talk to him, I felt, 
besides  being  robbed  of  my  “baby”,  my  faith,  that  he  crashed  me 
against  the rocks...  and  I remember  that  psalm we  often  sung  in  the 
community...  "along  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  remembering  you, 
Jerusalem, we wept."

The  worse  thing  happened  that  night  when  we  were  phoned  by  the 
main  catechist responsible for that team (not the priest), a  very good 
man, very humble. He asked us to apologize that priest because that 
“was his way of being”; and "he lost his mouth", he said. He asked us 
to  forget  everything  he  had  told  us  and  go  back  to  our  community. 
However, he also said we were not to go to the parish for some time, 
and the pastor (who was also at the meeting) forbade us to go to the 
Easter Vigil. What??? That was the final blow, like the one bullfighters 
give the bull in the back of neck to rid him of his misery.

That  day,  only  two  brothers  in  our  community  joined  us  and  left  the 
room with us. No one else moved. I know many wanted to, but did not 
have  the  courage  because  they  were  afraid  of  being  expelled  and 
“ruin”  their  lives,  or  so  we  heard  later.  They  chose  to  betray 
themselves,  going  against  their  conscience,  mainly  for  their  children, 
who were about to enter the “way” into their own communities.

We  told  them  that  we  could  not  want  for  our  children  what  was  not 
good for us. Since then, my children have just set foot in a church for 
very few things. I cannot educate them in the Catholic faith because I 
have no faith left. I can no longer believe in the Church. I'm sorry but I 
cannot. And my children do not question me about this either. 

The eldest, after a few years, had to go to therapy. He later said that 
when he was little and we took him to the parish the nannies hit him. 
He never told us anything back then. We just remembered that every 
time we left him with the nannies we later had to take him to the E.R. 
because  he  had  high  fever  and  was  drowning.  It  was  like  automatic. 
We came to the celebrations, we left him with the other children during 
the Eucharist, Easter, retreats, etc. and he was always crying non-­stop, 
we  found  him  always  red,  with  fever,  covered  with  mucus,  coughing 
and vomiting. And he was always crying, from the very first minute until 
the last, a few hours later.

Later on the doctors diagnosed a severe allergy to a fungus that grows 
in places with high humidity. In the basement of that parish the children 
and  nannies  were  put  into  a  very  small  room  with  no  windows  or 
ventilation, full of dirt and dust. In the halls of the parish, which were 
flooded  when  it  rained,  there  were  rats,  and  since  there  were  many 
bills  to  pay,  the  pastor  called  the  pest  control  people  only  when 
neighbors complained. Those were the unsanitary conditions I usually 
left my kids in, and so my oldest one got so sick. Because of that, he 
cried a lot and nannies hit him because he did not shut up.

When  I  learned  all  of  that  by  the  psychologist  who  helped  my  son 
(because  of  a  school  matter),  I  felt  a  lot  of  anger  and  outrage. 
Catechists  always  said  that  children  with  asthma  were  sick  because 
they have hysterical mothers. So I was a hysterical mother, of course, 
because  my  son  had  asthma.  Strange  that  asthma  crisis  appeared 
when  we  had  the  parish  full  of  nannies,  rats  and  fungus.  What  a 
coincidence!  My  catechist  was  clear  to  me  that  my  son  got  sick 
because the devil wanted to pull me away from the “way”. He said that 
children  can  never  take  you  away  from God  because  they  belong  to 

All of this happened years ago, and yet I cannot write without an alias 
because I still have some close relatives in the “way”, and in the same 
parish  that  I  was  in.  They  are  my  only  link  with  them,  unfortunately. 
They still know EVERYTHING about my life through that person. They 
know  everything  ...  if  I'm  right,  if  I'm  wrong,  if  my  children  have 
problems, if I enter or leave my house ... they know everything.

My catechists have died. My community was mortally wounded. That is 
the  proof  that  things  were  not  done  well.  As  I  learned  recently,  my 
catechist’s  catechist  had  to  do  exactly  what  they  should  have  done 
when  we  were  visited  that  day,  but  they  would  not  listen  to  us  and 
killed  the  messenger  hoping  to  avoid  the  message.  Apparently  the 
widow  of  the  humble  catechist  who  called  us  home  that  night 
immediately  reminded  us  to  the  rest  of  the  team  when  they  finally 
opted  for  the  solution.  She  said  something  like  "do  you  remember 
those brothers wanted desperately to say “something” to us years ago? 
They told my husband  something,  something  very  serious was going 
on in the community". Lady widow catechist, I thank you deeply in my 
soul that at least someone is decent enough among eighty people who 
witnessed the events that day... but the evil they did and agreed upon, 
the harm they did will never heal.

I feel that this writing is too long. I will translate it and send it to Jungle 
Watch so they can also read it. My fellow friends in Cruxsancta already 
know all this.  I have told  this many times in my  comments along the 

I  think  we  should  conclude  that  it  is  necessary  to  join  forces  among 
former members of different languages ​​so  that our experiences reach 
to the ends of the Earth. I do not want anything I have experienced and 
lived happen even to my worst enemy.

In  Cruxsancta,  former  kikos  (it  is  a  convenient  way  to  speak)  from 
different Spanish­ speaking countries write about our experiences, and 
we all agree... there are too many things in common that are repeated 
no matter where in the planet, or with whom. The “way” has the seeds 
of  destruction.  Evil  is  inherent  in  the  system  itself,  independently  of 

In  my  case,  two  different  teams  of  catechists,  coming  from  different 
parishes  are  involved.  Maybe  if  there  were  different  circumstances,  I 
would not have suffered, but the parish next door would have. I know 
there are many other cases like mine, at least because of the fact of 
being  excluded  on  grounds  of  conscience.  The  “way”  is  very 
contradictory on key issues of the Catholic faith.

There are many people who follow Kiko and the catechists like sheep, 
including  many  priests,  especially  the  Redemptoris  Mater  ones,  who 
have understood that even above the Pope, there is Kiko and they are 
therefore authorized spokesmen, replicated copies of Kiko in a smaller 
scale, his catechists.

Our hope is that among the fat and happy sheep in the “way” there are 
people  who  try  to  follow  Christ  in  a  spirit  of  truth  and  consistency, 
without  hipocrisy  or  conveniences,  and  they  sometimes  feel  their 
consciences  grind  because  the  pieces  on  this  puzzle  do  not  fit. 
However,  it  is  too  high  a  price  to  pay.  It  is  an  inhumane  price.  My 
suffering  for  all  that  happened  has  caused  me  considerable  physical 
and psychological damage.

I  know  some  who  were  good  friends  back  then  are  still  buried  there 
suffering a lot, and are not happy. Their sons heard catechesis and are 
in communities. They are still playing the same roles. Indeed the “way” 
survives thanks to the children and grand children of the old people. At 
least in Spain, very few come out to form new communities, and even 
fewer are not related to  someone already in. That's what makes it at 
least easier, even if they are not happy, they go along. They chose to 
live in a ghetto and the ghetto they have built is very comfortable. Of 
course, it is a very effective ghetto.

Kiko has built a town of his own. I do not know if you can call it like a 
“New People of Israel”, because they don’t help to build the Catholic, 
Universal  Church,  but  his  particular  vision  of  what  he  wants  as  the 
Church:  a  grand  community  of  communities  ...  Neocatechumenal,  of 
course, not ever otherwise.

When I listen to some bishops say that the “Way” is the one who best 
represent  the  faith  in  Christ  (lol),  I  think  they  are  sincerely  enjoying 
something  like  a  drunken  honeymoon  affair  with  Kiko.  And  they  will 
land on their feet, perhaps sooner than they think.

The  problem  is  people  of  good  will  who  trust  their  pastors  ... People 
who think they really are guided by Christ, not by Kiko. And Jesus the 
Good  Shepherd  is  not  Kiko.  The  “prophet”  of  Palomeras,  Pako  the 
Punishment, as we call him in Cruxsancta, only wants a certain type of 
sheep  and  wants  the  best  meadows.  The  rest  matters  little,  in  my 
opinion. His way of settling the issues are the same as those followed 
by the catechists with us: "You are either with me or against me... or 
me or nothing, the “way” or death.

I am badly wounded but alive. And while I live, I'll speak my heart out. 
Thank you.

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