The Warmth of a Corpse

Bl. John Henry Newman on worshiping the Jesus of our choosing rather than the real one:

Meanwhile, the religious world little thinks whither its opinions are leading; and will not discover that it is adoring a mere abstract name or a vague creation of the mind for the Ever-living Son, till the defection of its members from the faith startle it, and teach it that the so-called religion of the heart, without orthodoxy of doctrine, is but the warmth of a corpse, real for a time, but sure to fail.

Translation: The modern church is complacent and oblivious.  We are unconcerned that our bland, emasculated vague Jesus bears no resemblance to the real one, though vast numbers of people leaving Church may startle us [note: so far it hasn't].   This "religion of the heart", this mood of
mere sentimentality that we call the Faith, this tepid and forced excitement, all feeling and no understanding, "without orthodoxy of doctrine", without obedience, virtue or practice is ... well, is "but the warmth of a corpse, real for a time, but sure to fail."

It occurred to me that what I hate and complain about in the Church is not the church.  What I hate and despise in the church is the Ape of God, a foppish parody, no more living than a quickly cooling corpse, real for a time, but sure to fail.