SALZBURG—Driving through Europe it is easy to understand why war is endemic in the Continent’s vast history: This is a continent of differences.

Drive a few hours in any direction from virtually any start point, and you’ll run into some of these differences. First, Europe’s smorgasbord of languages is a recipe for tension. In Paris, they speak French. Three hours northeast, it’s Dutch, three hours east, in Switzerland, it’s German, Italian and French; a couple hours farther, in Austria and Germany, it’s all German. Drive south eight hours, and they’re speaking Spanish.

Consider as well the contrasts in topography. The Low Countries (particularly Belgium and the Netherlands), with their flat, fertile plains cut with networks of gently flowing canals, are easily penetrable—their vulnerability enticing to the imperialistic eye. Drive seven hours south, however, and the jaw drops and ears pop during the climb into one of the most spectacular, impregnable features in the world, the Bavarian and Austrian Alps.

The differences between the national characteristics of European peoples also undermine the idea of a united Continent. It’s fascinating how people so close geographically can be so noticeably different in both appearance and personality. In Belgium, the people are reserved, yet efficient and accommodating. Parisians seem less inhibited, more cosmopolitan and, from limited experience, less efficient and obliging. The Germans are genteel, robust in character, and thrive on orderliness down to the minutest detail. (It was captivating, vacating the lunch table one day, to watch an older German friend take time before leaving to command the entire squadron of chairs on her side of the table into a perfectly straight line.)

It is in spite of these stark, in some cases tension-inducing differences, that the Trumpet—for going on 20 years now—has forecast, repeatedly and with growing urgency, the impending unification of the European continent.

After hopscotching part of the Continent for the past two weeks, I can appreciate the standpoint of the many who oppose this view. Europe is indeed a cauldron of diverse people, different cultures and divergent national interests. That a united superstate could ever emerge from such a morass appears impossible to many.

The only problem with that assessment is that it ignores a significant and deciding factor. “The nations of Europe have been striving to become reunited,” wrote Herbert W. Armstrong 30 years ago. “In only one way can [European unification] be brought to fruition—by the ‘good offices’ of the Vatican, uniting church and state once again, with the Vatican astride and ruling” (Plain Truth, January 1979).

He’s absolutely right.

Unconvinced? Then drive through Europe: The Catholic Church is indelibly tattooed across it from one end to the other!

The Vatican’s presence occurs in various shapes and shades. In the older parts of cities and villages, its presence is palpable, even dominating. In the newer, trendier areas, its presence is less blatant, more nuanced. Wherever you go though, the Vatican’s presence is ubiquitous—whether it’s the giant crosses piercing the skylines over cities and villages, the striking Roman architecture of the ancient edifices, the cobblestoned streets exuding a medieval aura, or the hideous gargoyles intended to guard buildings from evil forces.

Take Paris, a city famous for its 1,063-foot tower. When it comes to durability and historical import, the steel beams of the Eiffel Tower are overshadowed by another dominant feature on Paris’s skyline. Situated on a small island in the middle of the Seine, Notre Dame (“Our Lady”) Cathedral, with its towering twin watchtowers, looms equally as prominent over the city. With its elaborate sculptures, Roman arches and half-man, half-beast gargoyles, the cathedral is an imposing reminder of the Vatican’s 1,300-year existence at the center of French society.

The Vatican’s presence is similarly striking in most cities and villages. Strolling through many city centers and villages is like taking a trip back to medieval times. The imprint of the Catholic-dominated Roman Empire is everywhere, from the architecture of the archaic buildings, replete with the distinctive Roman arch, to the ancient murals with “Christian” scenes, to the sculptures of “Christian” figures. It’s the same in the countryside, where the most notable characteristic, be it in major towns or quaint little villages, is the cathedral jutting from the Catholic church located in the heart of the village.

This place is covered with the Vatican’s fingerprints. The cross is featured on walls everywhere, inside and out. Sculptures of the Madonna saddle buildings and line windowsills; gargoyles seem to stalk you as you walk. In the gift shops in Austria and southern Germany, the “Christian” cross is everywhere: on shields, coat of arms, flags, shot glasses, swords, figurines—each a miniature testament to the Vatican’s historic presence in the region.

Of course, many of these medieval trinkets don’t compare with their larger, more spectacular forebears, the many castles that dot Europe’s landscape. These castles are stunning structures, built strong and made to last. Some are grafted seamlessly into the ribs of a mountain; others are perched like imposing birds of prey at the summit of high mountains. These castles are vestiges of a feudalistic age when absolute monarchies, generally empowered by and in consort with Catholic clergy, oppressed, often inhumanly and with terrific cruelty, the paupers working their lands and inhabiting their villages below.

Everywhere you look across Europe, the picture is the same: The Catholic Church is rooted in every square inch of this continent!

European nations “have wanted to unite politically, with a common currency and common military force, for some time—but have been unable,” wrote Mr. Armstrong in 1980. It can be accomplished, he wrote, but “only through the Vatican.”

The Vatican is the single greatest constant in Europe. History shows European powers excel as powerful forces of destruction when they submit to the influence of the Vatican. Study the history of the Holy Roman Empire; consider Charlemagne, and Otto the Great and Napoleon. For more than 1,500 years, the Vatican has been the spiritual and emotional engine empowering, and often guiding, European powers in their imperialistic quests!

Sure, there are factors working against unification today. Europe is a continent of differences. Church attendance in some parts is not what it once was. Islam’s imprint is growing. Secularism and materialism are more prominent than in the past; many Europeans focus more on Gucci and bmw than on Rome. But, like Mr. Armstrong explained for decades, Europe will unite. How?

Even an atheist turns religious during times of crisis!

And don’t we live in a period of mounting crises? America’s economy is on the precipice of collapse, which is bringing on an earthshaking transformation of the global financial system. Nuclear weapons are falling into the hands of leaders with apocalyptic ambitions. Formerly imperialistic superpowers are reemerging. Headlines are dominated by tumult and travesty, “wars and rumors of wars.”

After trekking across this continent for two weeks, it’s not difficult to recognize the “religion” Europeans will turn toward as the crises worsen. In fact, the infrastructure for a Catholic renaissance in Europe already exists. It sits atop buildings and straddles mountain peaks; it pierces city and village skylines; it owns prime real estate in cities and towns; it exists in the architecture and the cobblestoned streets; it’s featured in Europe’s museums; it saturates traditional art and culture.

European nations are separated by a number of differences. But behind these differences is a religious heritage that is common to all European states. It’s called the Roman Catholic Church. And it is, as Herbert Armstrong accurately forecast decades ago, the means by which European unification will be achieved.