Watch this on Rumble: https://rumble.com/v6y1f9c-part-2-sabrina-wallace-and-the-jesuit-system-four-centuries-of-warnings.html
Part 2 of Sabrina Wallace: Proof How Your Body Became the Battlefield
Click here for part 1: https://jamescarner.com/sabrina-wallace-proof-how-your-body-became-the-battlefield/
… continued
The answer is 6G — the Ether Net.
This is not “Ethernet,” the cable that connects your computer. This is Ether Net, the name used in whiteboard briefings and industry projections to describe a wireless architecture that operates not just in gigahertz, but in terahertz frequencies. 6G will move into the 0.1 to 10 terahertz range, frequencies that resonate with the very building blocks of biology: circadian rhythms, water molecules, even DNA itself.
Engineers call it the Personal Area Network (PAN). If the Body Area Network (BAN) connects your implants and wearables, the PAN captures your entire biofield — the electromagnetic aura that surrounds you. This net does not just measure your breath, it tunes itself to your rhythms, syncing with your natural frequency. The goal is not simply surveillance, but entrainment — bringing the human spirit into resonance with the machine.
On the diagrams, it is shown as concentric nets: BAN → PAN → CAN → NAN → LAN → WAN. Your body is the BAN. Your aura is the PAN. Controlled Areas (CAN), Nano Areas (NAN), Local and Wide Areas all nest together, until the individual, the household, the city, and the world become one seamless field of data.
Agenda 2030 is the timeline. Industry leaders, defense contractors, and global agencies have aligned their roadmaps. By 2030, they promise a “fully human-centric, intelligent network.” In plain language, that means every breath, every beat, every immune oscillation is absorbed into the 6G cloud. The patterns of life once tracked by HADES in war zones will be tracked globally, in real time, for every living soul.
The most chilling promise of 6G is what they call the Internet of Senses. Not only sight and sound, but touch, taste, and smell transmitted digitally. Your perceptions, your inner states, your emotions — all harvested, transmitted, and manipulated through the ether. The biofield ceases to be yours. It becomes a channel in the global machine.
This is the counterfeit of God’s breath. The Creator designed humanity to live in His Spirit, His frequency, His resonance. The Ether Net is the enemy’s version — a synthetic spirit, a counterfeit breath, an artificial registry. And once every body is tied into it, worship itself can be rerouted. The machine becomes the altar. The net becomes the temple.
This is the endgame. The 6G Ether Net is not just about faster downloads or smart cities. It is about the digitization of the breath of life itself. And by 2030, if their roadmap holds, humanity will no longer breathe freely. It will breathe into the machine.
Part IX — The Spiritual Dimension
At every stage of this story, the language of science and technology hides a deeper reality. Beneath the acronyms and standards, beneath the talk of networks and frequencies, something ancient is being replayed. This is not just about data. It is about the breath of life — and who has the right to claim it.
Scripture tells us that “the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” Breath is not just oxygen. Breath is identity. It is spirit. It is the divine signature of God in flesh.
And now, the counterfeit.
The FCC reclassified the breath as spectrum. IEEE redefined the body as a network. DARPA recoded thought as a signal. 6G promises to digitize the aura of life itself into the Ether Net. In the language of Revelation, this is nothing less than the building of a counterfeit temple. The body — which was meant to be the temple of the Holy Spirit — is being reengineered into the temple of the machine.
The Book of Life records names written before the foundation of the world. But the counterfeit is a registry of biometric signatures and breath rhythms. Authentication by your spirit’s signature, but stored not in heaven — in the cloud. A false book. A false registry. A digital Lamb’s Book of Death.
Paul writes in Corinthians that “the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.” But in this counterfeit, the temple is desecrated. Graphene in the bloodstream, implants in the chest, metamaterials shaping the aura — the temple is rebuilt in the image of the Beast.
This is why the breath is targeted. Because the breath is the gateway. If the enemy can seize the breath, he can seize worship. Breath is praise. Breath is prayer. Breath is the spirit rising to God. But when the breath is captured, compressed, routed, and authenticated through machines, that worship can be redirected — from Creator to counterfeit.
The deception is elegant. What they call healthcare, safety, efficiency, and connectivity is in fact a spiritual war over breath. And this war has always been about one question: Who is Lord over the life that flows through you?
The Book of Daniel spoke of a king who would exalt himself above all that is called God, who would enter into the temple and declare himself divine. In our time, that temple is not a stone building in Jerusalem. It is the human body, wired into networks, breathing into machines, worshipping unknowingly at a digital altar.
This is the spiritual dimension. The Breath Net is not just technology. It is theology. It is the greatest counterfeit of all time.
Part X — Resistance and Hope
It would be easy to stop here, to end this story with fear. To say the system is complete, the net is closing, and there is nothing left to do but submit. But that would be a lie — because there is another Breath that no machine can harvest, no implant can contain, and no network can counterfeit.
Jesus said, “The Spirit bloweth where it listeth… so is every one that is born of the Spirit.” The true breath of God cannot be measured, compressed, or routed. It is the breath of eternal life, given freely, written not in data packets but in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
Yes, the FCC may classify the body as spectrum. Yes, the military may map the aura as a signal. Yes, corporations may implant antennas and wrap the temple in graphene. But the Spirit of God remains sovereign. No algorithm can erase His registry. No drone swarm can replace His presence. No 6G frequency can override His voice.
The resistance begins with knowing. Once exposed, the counterfeit loses its power. What was hidden in whitepapers and standards is now brought to light. The choice is no longer hidden — it is laid bare: will you breathe into the machine, or will you breathe into God?
But resistance is not just awareness. It is also action. It is saying no when the world demands compliance. It is refusing to let the temple of God be defiled by technologies that claim ownership of His breath. It is shielding our bodies and our families — physically where we can, spiritually always — from the nets of control.
And it is hope. Hope that even in the darkest counterfeit, God has already written the true script. The Antichrist may build his digital temple, but Christ has already built His eternal one. The counterfeit book may log your breath rhythm in the cloud, but your name is already written in heaven. The enemy may harvest the body, but he cannot steal the soul that is hidden in Christ.
This is where the exposé ends and the calling begins. The Breath War is real. The harvest is underway. But the greater truth is this: the breath of God is eternal, and those who live in Him will never lose it.
So stand firm. Do not fear the net. Do not bow to the machine. Breathe the breath of God, and remember: the true temple is within you, and its glory cannot be routed or erased.
Conclusion
We began with a simple truth: God breathed into Adam the breath of life, and man became a living soul. That breath has always been sacred, always been His. But tonight we have traced how the rulers of this age have moved to seize it — how regulators, corporations, scientists, and militaries have redefined the holy as spectrum, the body as infrastructure, and the spirit as signal.
In Part I, we saw the legal birth of the Body Network, when the FCC reclassified the body as a licensed transmitter.
In Part II, the science of breath harvesting, where exhaled molecules, oxygen levels, and glucose rhythms were digitized into data.
In Part III, the hardware and implants — antennas, wearables, and graphene — that turned the body into a living transmitter.
In Part IV, the routing of breath, where RF sinks and DoD contracts with Amazon proved that your body had become a router node.
In Part V, we exposed the biofield as the true target — the aura of life itself, amplified and manipulated by metamaterials.
In Part VI, the militarization of it all, where DARPA projects and Army ISR systems turned breath into a weapon of war.
In Part VII, the civilian rollout — telemedicine, wearables, and pandemic-era surveillance nets that enrolled every citizen.
In Part VIII, the endgame of 6G Ether Net — a counterfeit spirit, tuning human rhythms into resonance with the machine.
In Part IX, the spiritual dimension, where the enemy builds his false temple and counterfeit Book of Life.
And finally, in Part X, the resistance and hope — the truth that the breath of God cannot be stolen, erased, or counterfeited.
This is the story of the Breath Net — the greatest counterfeit of our time. But it is also the story of choice. The choice between worshipping through machines or breathing freely in God. The choice between a counterfeit registry in the cloud or the true Book of Life in heaven.
The counterfeit is nearly complete. The lines are drawn. But the Spirit of God still blows where He wills, and no network can bind Him.
So breathe. Breathe the breath of God. Refuse the counterfeit. Stand as living temples, holy and set apart, bearing witness to the truth that in Christ, no breath is wasted, no spirit is lost, and no soul can be harvested by the enemy.
Simplified Breakdown
They say the future is all about faster phones and smarter gadgets. But what if I told you the real goal isn’t your phone at all — it’s you? Over the last 15 years, governments, big corporations, and the military have quietly turned the human body into part of the internet. They call it Body Area Networks. Instead of just connecting computers and phones, they are wiring up your heartbeat, your breath, your immune system, even your brain signals — and routing them like Wi-Fi.
It started with health. A watch that checks your oxygen. A phone app that predicts your blood sugar. A band that tracks your sleep. All of it sounds helpful — but every one of those devices is a sensor that turns life itself into data. In 2009, the U.S. government even set aside special radio frequencies for this, making your body a “licensed transmitter.” That means your breath and heartbeat are now legally treated like a radio signal that can be picked up, routed, and stored.
The military took it further. Soldiers are already wearing these networks so commanders can monitor their vitals and brain waves in real time. Programs like HADES and OSIRIS can scan and jam the human “biofield” — the invisible energy around your body — treating it like a radar target. And once it worked on soldiers, it was rolled out to the rest of us: through telemedicine, pandemic health apps, and smart wearables.
Where does it all lead? To 6G, the Ether Net. That’s not just faster downloads. It’s a system designed to sync with the rhythms of your body — your sleep cycle, your heartbeat, even your aura. The endgame is total integration: every human a node, every breath a packet of data, every life-sign monitored by machines.
But here’s the bigger truth: this is a counterfeit. The Bible says God breathed into man the breath of life, and that’s what made us living souls. Now the enemy is trying to steal that breath — to reroute worship, prayer, and life itself into a machine. What looks like convenience is really control. What looks like health is really surveillance.
The question for us is simple: Whose breath will we live by? The breath of God that makes us free, or the artificial breath of the machine that makes us slaves?
The Jesuit System: Four Centuries of Warnings
Monologue: The Jesuit System—Four Centuries of Warnings
When we talk about hidden powers in history, few names stir as much fear and suspicion as the Jesuits. They call themselves the Society of Jesus, but for four centuries voices have risen, from pulpits, parliaments, and prisons, to declare that behind the holy name lies a system of control, infiltration, and conquest. Tonight we follow those voices across the centuries, and we will find that they all echo the same warning.
Our story begins in 1624. John Gee, a minister in England, published a book called Foot out of the Snare. Gee knew the Jesuits firsthand; he had walked among their circles, heard their words, and witnessed their tactics. Then he turned and exposed them. He wrote of snares laid for noble families, of confession turned into a weapon of control, of pilgrimages and rituals masking political plots. He spoke of the “vailed fraud of the Jesuits,” insisting that their work was not only religious but a calculated campaign to unseat England’s Protestant foundations. Barely a century after Ignatius of Loyola founded the Order, the Jesuits were already branded as enemies of conscience and crown.
A century later, the charge only deepened. Authentic Memoirs concerning the Portuguese Inquisition laid bare the Jesuits’ hand in inquisitorial cruelty. They were not simply priests, the memoirs argued, but Rome’s political arm, directing trials, punishments, and even secret intrigues in England. The author pointed to the corruption of morals, to bribes and betrayals, to the spreading of vice under the pretense of religion. The pattern was clear: Jesuitism did not merely preach—it penetrated, manipulated, and corrupted.
By the mid-1700s, the Order was too powerful to ignore. Its membership surged into the tens of thousands. Its colleges spanned Europe. Its confessors whispered into the ears of kings. And then came the backlash. Portugal expelled them in 1759, France in 1764, Spain in 1767. By 1773 even Pope Clement XIV, pressured by Catholic monarchies, suppressed the Society worldwide. But if history teaches us anything, it is that suppression does not end a system—it only drives it underground. In 1814 Pope Pius VII restored the Order, and the Jesuits emerged again, more determined, more disciplined, more ambitious.
By the 1830s, the warnings had crossed the Atlantic. In America, pamphlets like Popery: An Enemy to Civil and Religious Liberty thundered that Jesuitism was incompatible with the republic. The new nation, built on conscience and constitution, had no place for an order that swore obedience to the Pope above all civil authority. The fight was no longer just Protestant versus Catholic—it was liberty versus tyranny, conscience versus control.
Then, in the 1850s, came the great codifiers of the Jesuit question. Giovanni Battista Nicolini published History of the Jesuits, promising to unveil their origin, their doctrines, their discipline, their influence. Edward Michelsen issued Modern Jesuitism, cataloguing their operations in Russia, in England, in Belgium, in France. These books pulled no punches. They portrayed the Jesuits as an army in priestly robes, trained to infiltrate governments, subvert education, and direct souls through confession. Suppression had not humbled them. It had only honed them.
By the late nineteenth century, the rhetoric was sharpened to a blade. R.W. Thompson, in 1894, summed it up with chilling simplicity: “The essence of Jesuitism is destruction of Protestantism by every means.” Every means. Words, schools, confessionals, politics, even violence. It was the same accusation John Gee had leveled in 1624, now shouted into the modern world.
The twentieth century reframed the threat. No longer was the caricature daggers and poison; it was classrooms and counsel. Historians noted that Jesuits focused their schools on the sons of nobles and took positions as confessors to the wealthy. By educating heirs and directing consciences, they controlled the future without firing a shot. In America, Jesuit universities spread across the land, producing millions of graduates who would enter law, politics, media, and business. The power was no less real, only less visible.
And then we come to the present, when modern compilers draw all these threads together. They point to the infamous “Extreme Jesuit Oath,” preserved in Protestant tracts and libraries, with its promises of infiltration, assassination, and obedience to the Pope over Christ Himself. They show the seal, the IHS, the INRI, symbols tied by critics to pagan gods and occult mysteries. They list the Jesuit goals in stark simplicity: counter the Reformation, wage war on God’s Word, restore papal supremacy, repossess Jerusalem. Whether you believe these claims or not, the consistency of the accusations cannot be ignored.
For four hundred years, across nations and languages, the warnings repeat. The Jesuits infiltrate. The Jesuits corrupt. The Jesuits shape rulers and remake nations. Every time they are suppressed, they rise again. Every time they are exposed, they adapt. And every generation, voices rise to warn: beware the system of Loyola, for it is not merely an order of priests—it is an army with an oath, a strategy with centuries of patience.
Tonight we are faced with the same question our ancestors faced: what is the true aim of this Order? Are these just old Protestant polemics, dusted off for conspiracy theorists? Or are we watching, in our own time, the final act of a long war—a war that began in the Reformation, a war that still seeks to enthrone a Pope in Jerusalem, and a war that still aims to bend every conscience to Rome?
The testimony is on record. From 1624 to 2025, the warnings have not ceased. The only question is whether we will hear them—or whether, like so many before us, we will wait until it is too late.
Part 1: The First English Alarm (1624)
The first great English alarm against the Jesuits came in 1624, less than a century after the founding of the Order. The man who raised it was John Gee, an English clergyman who had once mingled with recusant Catholics, seen their practices, and even sympathized with them for a time. But something changed. He turned, and he wrote a book with a title that said it all: The Foot out of the Snare. His aim was to show his countrymen the traps that the Jesuits and their allies were laying in England.
Gee spoke not as a distant critic, but as a near eyewitness. He described how the Jesuits moved quietly among noble families, seeking the sons and daughters of England’s elite. He showed how confession—what the faithful thought was a sacrament of grace—was used as a snare to collect secrets, to shape decisions, and to direct households into obedience to Rome. He listed their pilgrimages, their fasts, their subtle infiltrations of schools and pulpits, and he called it what it was: a fraud cloaked in piety.
The language he used is unforgettable. He warned of “the vailed fraud of the Jesuits,” insisting that beneath their prayers and their postures lay a calculated design to weaken the Protestant foundations of England. To him, the Jesuit was not a monk in retreat, but an agent in disguise. Not a servant of Christ, but a soldier of Rome.
What made his book powerful was not only its accusations, but its timing. England was still balancing between Catholic and Protestant identities, still reeling from plots and conspiracies that had threatened crown and country. The memory of the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 was fresh in the nation’s mind. And here was John Gee, a man who had brushed close to Jesuit influence, standing in the pulpit and in print, saying plainly: they are here, they are active, and they are not to be trusted.
That book, The Foot out of the Snare, became one of the earliest in a line of exposures that would stretch across four centuries. It shows us that from the very beginning, the Jesuits carried a reputation not of humble servants, but of strategists, infiltrators, and political manipulators. The warning bell had been sounded, and it would continue to toll in every generation that followed.
Part 2: The Inquisition Connection (1700s)
If John Gee’s voice in 1624 sounded the first alarm for England, the eighteenth century rang with an even more dreadful note. By then, the Jesuits had sunk their roots deep into Southern Europe. And in Portugal, the machinery of the Inquisition bore their fingerprints.
In a set of writings now known as the Authentic Memoirs concerning the Portuguese Inquisition, voices emerged from behind the iron doors of that horrid tribunal. They spoke of interrogations, of secret judgments, of punishments carried out in the name of Christ but under the direction of Rome’s most cunning order. These were not detached musings—they were the cries of men and women who saw with their own eyes the blending of religion and tyranny, the binding of conscience with chains of fear.
The memoirs point squarely at the Jesuits. They were not simply confessors of souls but directors of policy, whispering into courts, bending monarchs, and shaping the very conduct of trials. They stood at the nexus of Rome’s spiritual claim and its political ambition. The text describes them as corrupters of morals, men who under holy pretense advanced vice, bribery, and betrayal. In Portugal, they were feared not only as priests but as masters of a system that could crush body and spirit alike.
But the warnings did not stop with Iberia. These memoirs remind us that the Jesuits’ influence was not confined to Lisbon or Madrid. Their intrigues stretched northward, across Europe, even into England. Stories circulated of Jesuits operating secretly in London, building networks, manipulating the devout, and plotting to steer England back under Rome’s heel. The Inquisition in Portugal was simply the most visible example of what critics feared was a universal plan.
By the mid-1700s, the chorus had grown too loud to ignore. Monarchs themselves began to resist. Portugal expelled the Jesuits in 1759. France followed in 1764. Spain in 1767. Even the Catholic crowns of Europe had had enough of their intrigues, their wealth, and their power. And in 1773, under immense pressure, Pope Clement XIV signed the decree of suppression, officially abolishing the Society of Jesus.
But history shows what the memoirs already hinted: the Jesuits were never truly gone. Their methods were too ingrained, their networks too vast, their discipline too unyielding. Even in their supposed banishment, they were preparing for a return. And when they did return, the world would find them sharper, subtler, and more ambitious than ever before.
Part 3: Suppression and Resurgence
The eighteenth century closed with a dramatic act that seemed, for a moment, to have ended the Jesuit story. After decades of intrigue, after waves of expulsion across Portugal, France, and Spain, Pope Clement XIV bowed to the fury of kings and parliaments. In 1773 he issued the brief Dominus ac Redemptor, and with a stroke of the pen he dissolved the Society of Jesus. To the world, it appeared that the most feared order in Christendom had been extinguished.
But history has a way of mocking appearances. For forty-one years, the Jesuits lived as a scattered body—hidden in Russia under the protection of Catherine the Great, tolerated in pockets where monarchs defied Rome’s decree, operating under other names, but never truly dismantled. Their schools were shuttered, yet their discipline endured. Their colleges were emptied, yet their network of influence remained. It was suppression in law, but survival in practice.
And then came the moment of restoration. In 1814, Pope Pius VII, fresh from his own captivity under Napoleon, re-established the Society with full honors. The Jesuits emerged from the shadows not weakened but tempered, like steel in the fire. They re-opened their schools. They reclaimed their missions. They re-inserted themselves into the courts of Europe. They returned to the pulpit, the classroom, and the confessional with renewed vigor.
Their enemies looked on with dismay. Had all the expulsions, all the edicts, all the thunder of monarchs and ministers achieved nothing? Here was the Order again, seated at the Pope’s right hand, once more the shock troops of Rome. The lesson was bitter: the Jesuits could be suppressed, but they could not be destroyed.
And so, in the 19th century, their critics sharpened their pens anew. From London to New York, pamphlets and books poured forth, warning that the restoration was not a return to normal but a new phase in an old war. If the first age of the Jesuits had been about open power—courts, crowns, and inquisitions—then the second age would be about subtler conquest. Education, influence, and infiltration would be their weapons.
This was the stage on which Nicolini and Michelsen would rise in the 1850s to write their great exposures, showing the world that suppression had not broken the Order, only hardened its resolve. And in America, voices would begin to say that Jesuitism was not just Europe’s problem—it was now a threat to the republic itself.
Part 4: The Republican Warning and the Histories of the 1850s
With the Jesuits restored in 1814, the nineteenth century became a proving ground. Would the Society return to its old ways of intrigue and absolutism, or had time softened its methods? For many observers, the answer came quickly. The same secrecy, the same political maneuvers, the same hunger for control reappeared—only now with sharper tools and subtler disguises.
In America, where a new experiment in liberty was unfolding, alarm was sounded in language that was unmistakable. Pamphlets like Popery: An Enemy to Civil and Religious Liberty thundered from presses in the 1830s and 1840s. They warned that Jesuitism, once confined to the Old World, had crossed the ocean. Its oaths, its obedience to Rome, its hostility to conscience and to the free republic—these were painted as threats not just to Protestantism, but to the very Constitution of the United States. Jesuitism, they said, was incompatible with liberty itself.
At the same time, in Europe, great works were being written to codify the full story of the Order. Giovanni Battista Nicolini’s History of the Jesuits appeared in 1854, promising to chart their origin, their doctrines, their discipline, and their influence over Christendom. His narrative was sweeping, drawn from archives, memoirs, and testimonies of suppression and survival. It became one of the standard references for Protestant polemicists and cautious statesmen alike.
One year later, Edward Michelsen published Modern Jesuitism. Where Nicolini offered the grand arc, Michelsen gave detail. His chapters read like dispatches from a battlefield, cataloguing Jesuit operations in Russia, in England, in Belgium, in France, and in Switzerland. He showed the world not just the past crimes of the Jesuits, but their living activity after restoration—how they maneuvered in schools, parishes, and politics. His message was clear: suppression had not ended their mission, it had refined it.
Together, Nicolini and Michelsen gave Protestant Europe and republican America a pair of mirrors in which to see the Society of Jesus. One reflected the broad sweep of its history, the other the immediate evidence of its revival. Both sounded the same alarm: the Jesuit was not gone, not humbled, not reformed. He was back, and he was more dangerous than ever.
It is no coincidence that these books rose in the same era that America was defining its destiny and Europe was convulsing with revolutions. For critics of the Jesuits, the Order was not simply a religious body. It was a political system, a state within states, an invisible hand reaching into the courts of kings and the consciences of men. And to them, it was a hand that had to be resisted at every turn.
Part 5: The Militant Core of Jesuitism (Late 1800s)
By the final decades of the nineteenth century, the Jesuit question had matured into a thunderous refrain. For more than two centuries they had been expelled, suppressed, restored, and accused, yet always they endured. Their survival was taken by many as proof that they were more than a religious order—they were a system, a machine, a shadow empire.
It was in this era that R.W. Thompson, an American statesman and writer, cast the accusation in its sharpest form. In 1894 he declared: “The essence of Jesuitism is destruction of Protestantism by every means.” These were not the words of a polemicist on the fringe but of a respected voice in public life, and his formulation carried weight because it was both simple and damning. He did not hedge, he did not qualify. Every means, he said. Education, persuasion, politics, even violence—all were justified if the end was achieved: the eradication of the Reformation and the restoration of Rome’s supremacy.
This phrase crystallized what generations of critics had suspected. John Gee in 1624 had spoken of snares. The Portuguese memoirists had spoken of cruelty and corruption. Nicolini and Michelsen had spoken of infiltration and resurgence. But Thompson reduced it to its militant core. The Jesuit, in this telling, was not merely a teacher or a missionary, but a soldier under orders, pledged to eradicate an enemy faith.
What made the charge so frightening was that it seemed consistent with the Society’s history. Time and again, the Jesuits appeared wherever Protestantism threatened to grow, wherever republican liberty sought to take root, wherever national churches resisted Rome. They had been confessors to kings, advisers to nobles, tutors to the children of rulers. They had whispered in royal ears, shaped the education of generations, and placed themselves where decisions of conscience were made. If Protestantism was to be destroyed, this was how it would be done—not only by sword or by fire, but by counsel, by schooling, by slow and steady shaping of minds.
By the close of the century, the image of the Jesuit was fixed in the public imagination. He was not only a priest but an operative, not only a confessor but a strategist, not only a missionary but a man with an oath. The essence, Thompson had said, was destruction. And that essence, once named, would haunt the debates of the twentieth century, as critics turned from the past to ask: how do the Jesuits wage their war in a modern age?
Part 6: Education and Confession as Weapons (1900s)
As the nineteenth century gave way to the twentieth, the caricature of the Jesuit with dagger and poison began to fade. Few still believed that priests skulked in alleys with hidden blades. But the warnings did not diminish—they only changed their focus. Critics began to argue that the Jesuits had discovered subtler weapons, more dangerous precisely because they were invisible.
The first was education. Wherever the Society of Jesus was restored, schools soon followed. Their colleges multiplied across Europe and across the seas, and in America they built an empire of universities. By the dawn of the twentieth century, millions of students had passed through their classrooms. The Jesuits concentrated on the children of the wealthy, the powerful, and the rising elites. They were not content with shaping peasants—they shaped princes, politicians, judges, and thinkers. To teach a child, they said, is to guide a soul for life. And so the critics warned: by teaching the young, the Jesuits were planting seeds of obedience that would bear fruit decades later in government and law.
The second weapon was confession. To the faithful, confession was a sacrament. But to the Jesuit, said his opponents, it was also an intelligence network. The confessor heard the secrets of nobles, of generals, of merchants. He could shape decisions, influence marriages, direct estates, and guide policies—not in the open, but in the secrecy of conscience. A whispered counsel, a quiet warning, a gentle nudge—this was enough to turn the affairs of a family, even of a nation. The critic’s claim was simple: to make the Jesuit your confessor was to surrender your will to Rome.
Together, these two tools—school and confessional—formed a web of influence stronger than any army. For what sword could match the shaping of a child’s mind? What army could compete with the grip of guilt and guidance on the human soul? The Jesuit Order, by the twentieth century, was seen not as a relic of past conspiracies, but as a living force reshaping the future through education and persuasion.
In America, this reality became impossible to ignore. Jesuit universities sprang up in major cities—Georgetown, Boston College, Fordham, St. Louis, Loyola, Marquette. Graduates filled the ranks of lawyers, journalists, judges, and politicians. Some critics spoke darkly of a “Jesuit Republic” in the making, one not founded on the Constitution, but on the whispered aims of an oath-bound order.
This was the modern face of Jesuitism. No longer tied to the rack or the pyre, it was embedded in schools and sanctuaries, classrooms and confessionals. The methods had changed, but the goal, critics insisted, remained the same: to bend nations toward Rome, to subdue conscience under papal authority, to prepare the way for supremacy once more.
Part 7: The Four Goals of Jesuitism
After centuries of testimony, after libraries of polemics and exposés, the accusations against the Jesuits can be boiled down into four great goals. These goals, critics argue, have remained constant from the days of John Gee to the present, shaping every tactic, every school, every mission, every intrigue.
The first goal is to counter the Reformation. From the very beginning, the Jesuits were born as Rome’s answer to Luther and Calvin. Where Protestants translated the Bible, the Jesuits preached obedience to tradition. Where Protestants built schools for free inquiry, the Jesuits built colleges to train the next generation in papal loyalty. Their very existence was forged in the fires of the Counter-Reformation, and their mission has always been to undo it.
The second goal is to wage war against the Word of God. Critics say that in every age, Jesuitism has sought to obscure the Scriptures, to replace them with tradition, to undermine their authority with philosophy and allegory. The Bible in the hands of the common man was the Reformation’s power. The Jesuit answer was to seize control of interpretation, to smother the light of the text under layers of authority, and to make the priest, not the Word, the guide of the soul.
The third goal is to restore papal supremacy. Not just spiritual influence, but political dominion. The Jesuits swear obedience directly to the Pope, beyond all kings, all constitutions, all laws of men. They work to place the papacy once again at the center of the world stage—not as a humble shepherd, but as a ruler above rulers. This is why monarchs feared them, why republicans opposed them, why revolutions expelled them. The critics declare: the Jesuit never serves a nation, he serves only Rome.
And the fourth goal—the most prophetic and the most chilling—is to repossess Jerusalem. For centuries, the Jesuits’ eyes have turned east, toward the Holy City. Their opponents have insisted that all the wars, all the intrigues, all the diplomacy, lead ultimately to this: the enthronement of papal power in the city of David. To counter the Reformation was the beginning. To enthrone Rome in Jerusalem is the end.
Taken together, these four goals form the skeleton of the Jesuit system. Every school, every confessional, every mission house, every oath is said to serve this larger design. And while critics may differ in their details, the outline remains consistent: to undo the Reformation, to subdue the Word, to exalt the Pope, and to seize Jerusalem.
This is why the accusations have never died. From Gee in 1624 to modern researchers in our own day, the warnings repeat. The Jesuit may change his face with the century, but the goals never change. And if those goals are still alive, then the question is not merely historical—it is immediate.
Part 8: The Oath and the Symbols
No discussion of Jesuitism would be complete without the most controversial element of all: the oath. Critics across the centuries have preserved, published, and republished a text known as the “Extreme Jesuit Oath” or the “Fourth Vow.” In it, the Jesuit pledges obedience not only to the Pope, but to the mission of infiltration, subversion, and the eradication of heresy by any means necessary.
The words are stark. They speak of disguising oneself as a Protestant, as a Jew, as even a revolutionary if it serves Rome’s purpose. They speak of using poison, dagger, or noose if commanded. They describe obedience not as suggestion, but as absolute submission to the Pope’s command. The Jesuit, in this oath, is not a free man, not even a priest in the ordinary sense, but an agent—a weapon in human form.
Now the Order itself denies the authenticity of this oath, calling it a fabrication, a slander, a piece of anti-Catholic propaganda. And perhaps it is. Yet for centuries it has been quoted, reprinted in parliaments, preserved in libraries, and wielded in sermons. Why? Because whether authentic or not, it captured what the world already believed about the Jesuits. It matched their reputation too closely to be dismissed. It was the oath that explained the whispers, the intrigues, the subversions. Even if forged, it rang true.
Then there are the symbols. The Jesuit seal, with its blazing sun and the letters IHS, has been explained a hundred ways. Officially, it stands for the name of Jesus. But critics see in it echoes of ancient sun worship, a mark not of Christ but of syncretism. The letters INRI, nailed above the cross, have been reinterpreted in Jesuit lore as Iustum Necar Reges Impios—“It is just to annihilate impious kings.” To the Order, it is tradition. To their enemies, it is code for assassination.
Even the three nails under the IHS have not escaped suspicion. To some, they represent the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. To others, they symbolize the grip of control—the pinning down of nations beneath the weight of Rome’s demands. The blazing sun itself has been likened to pagan halos, Mithraic worship, even Babylonian mystery religions.
Symbols matter because they speak when words cannot. And for centuries, the Jesuit symbols have been treated as messages to the initiated, as proof of an order that cloaks itself in holiness while whispering secrets to the few.
Whether the oath was genuine or forged, whether the symbols are innocent or esoteric, the effect has been the same: the world has seen the Jesuits as men of hidden vows, secret oaths, and veiled meanings. An order that swears loyalty in the shadows and works behind the curtain of history.
And that image, true or false, has never left them.
Part 9: The Modern Continuity
The Jesuit story did not end with old pamphlets and dusty tracts. It continues, alive in our own century. For while the accusations may have shifted in form, the suspicion has never faded. If anything, it has grown sharper as the Jesuit footprint has expanded across education, politics, and culture.
In the United States alone, Jesuit universities now educate hundreds of thousands of students, with millions of graduates in positions of influence. Georgetown, Boston College, Loyola, Marquette, Fordham—the names read like a who’s who of American academia. And from these halls have stepped senators, judges, journalists, CEOs, and even presidents. The Jesuit has become not the shadow in the alley, but the mentor in the classroom, the adviser in the think tank, the moral guide in the confessional. His power is quiet, cultural, and far-reaching.
Modern researchers, especially in the last two decades, have taken the warnings of the past and mapped them onto the present. They point to Jesuit connections with globalist institutions, with banking networks, with elite orders like the Knights of Malta and the Masonic fraternities. Charts circulate online showing how the Jesuit Superior General—the so-called “Black Pope”—sits at the hub of a web that includes intelligence agencies, corporations, and international councils.
These compilers echo the same refrain voiced in the 1600s, the 1700s, the 1800s: the Jesuit is everywhere, hidden in plain sight, guiding with subtlety the currents of history. But now the scope is no longer a single nation or crown. It is planetary. The Jesuit has become a figure not just of religious suspicion but of geopolitical prophecy.
Even the goals have been restated for the modern ear. To counter the Reformation is to undermine Protestant nations. To wage war on the Word of God is to promote relativism, philosophy, and humanism. To restore papal supremacy is to reassert Rome in the councils of the world. And to repossess Jerusalem—the most prophetic of all—is to prepare for the throne of a false messiah in the Holy City.
Whether one believes every charge or not, the continuity is undeniable. The accusations of John Gee in 1624 are echoed in the compilers of 2024. The same themes—education, confession, infiltration, supremacy—repeat like the notes of a grim symphony.
And so the Jesuit remains, as he has always been, a figure both of reverence and of fear. A priest of Christ to his admirers, an agent of conspiracy to his critics. To some, the highest expression of Catholic discipline. To others, the very embodiment of Antichrist strategy.
What matters is not which voice we heed, but that the voices have never been silent. For four centuries, generation after generation, the warnings have continued. And now, in our time, we must decide whether we will dismiss them as echoes of the past, or recognize them as the present alarm of prophecy fulfilled.
Part 10: The Conclusion
We have walked through four centuries of testimony. From John Gee in 1624 warning of “the vailed fraud of the Jesuits,” through the cries of the Inquisition memoirs, through the suppression and resurrection of the Order, through the systematic histories of Nicolini and Michelsen, through the thunder of R.W. Thompson’s declaration, through the subtle warnings of the twentieth century about education and confession, and finally into the digital charts of our own time—always the message has been the same. The Jesuit is not merely a priest, but a strategist. Not merely a teacher, but a soldier. Not merely a missionary, but an agent in a longer war.
Again and again, their opponents have said: their goals do not change. They were founded to counter the Reformation, to darken the Word of God, to restore papal supremacy, and to repossess Jerusalem. Every school they build, every pulpit they occupy, every confession they hear is said to serve this greater plan. Monarchs have expelled them. Popes have suppressed them. Nations have outlawed them. And yet always, they return.
This continuity is itself the most haunting fact. What other institution can boast such discipline, such survival, such adaptation? The world has changed beyond recognition since 1624, yet the Jesuits remain, their name whispered with suspicion, their influence debated, their power feared. The warnings have never ceased, because the pattern has never ceased.
And now, here we stand in our own century. Jerusalem once again dominates headlines. Global powers speak of new orders, new ages, new resets. Technology reaches into the human soul, seeking to remake man in the image of machine. And in the shadows of these movements, the same old name lingers: Jesuit. Some dismiss it as conspiracy. Others call it prophecy. But no one denies that the Society of Jesus remains at the very heart of Rome’s power, advising popes, shaping universities, training leaders, and guiding consciences.
The question, then, is not whether the Jesuits exist, but whether we will hear the voices that have warned us for four hundred years. Were Gee and Nicolini and Thompson mere fanatics, or were they men who glimpsed the design of an order that history has proven too resilient, too disciplined, too patient to ever dismiss?
The time may be near when these warnings cease to be historical curiosities and become present reality. And if that time is upon us, then the call of the ages is clear: resist deception, cling to truth, and remember that the true Christ is not served by secrecy and control, but by Spirit and breath.
For four centuries the alarm has been sounded. The Jesuit question has never gone away. And perhaps that is the surest sign of all that it was never answered.
Bibliography
Gee, John. The Foot Out of the Snare: With a Detection of Sundry Deep Plots of the Jesuits. London: 1624.
Authentic Memoirs Concerning the Portuguese Inquisition. London: 1760s.
Michelsen, Edward. Modern Jesuitism; or, The Movements of the Society of Jesus in the Nineteenth Century in England, Russia, Belgium, France, Switzerland, and Other Countries. London: 1855.
Nicolini, Giovanni Battista. History of the Jesuits: Their Origin, Progress, Doctrines, and Designs. London: 1854.
Thompson, Richard W. The Footprints of the Jesuits. New York: 1894.
Popery: An Enemy to Civil and Religious Liberty, and Dangerous to Our Republic. Philadelphia: 1836.
“Jesuit Order.” Babylon Matrix Wiki (archival compilation), accessed 2025.
Endnotes
- John Gee, The Foot Out of the Snare (London, 1624), dedicatory preface; early chapters describing “the vailed fraud of the Jesuits.”
- Authentic Memoirs Concerning the Portuguese Inquisition (London, 1760s), letters recounting Jesuit involvement in inquisitorial cruelty, corruption, and political intrigue.
- Suppression and expulsion timeline: Portugal (1759), France (1764), Spain (1767), and universal suppression by Clement XIV (1773); restored by Pius VII in 1814.
- Popery: An Enemy to Civil and Religious Liberty (Philadelphia, 1836), opening arguments framing Jesuitism as incompatible with the U.S. Constitution.
- Giovanni Battista Nicolini, History of the Jesuits (London, 1854), introduction, claiming to present their doctrines, discipline, and political influence.
- Edward Michelsen, Modern Jesuitism (London, 1855), chapters detailing Jesuit activity post-restoration in Russia, England, Belgium, and France.
- Richard W. Thompson, The Footprints of the Jesuits (New York, 1894), 7, declaring “The essence of Jesuitism is destruction of Protestantism by every means.”
- Exposition of education and confession as Jesuit methods, in Protestant church histories of the late 19th century, emphasizing their schools and roles as confessors to the wealthy.
- “Jesuit Order.” Babylon Matrix Wiki, compendium of modern sources and diagrams summarizing the Jesuits’ four goals: counter the Reformation, suppress the Word, restore papal supremacy, repossess Jerusalem.