That Was The Week That... Whoa!!!

Geez, Louise! I leave my desk for a few days, and all of Saint Blog's goes to hell in a handbasket.

One of our members, Mark Windsor, recently shut down his weblog, citing the negative attitudes of his fellows:

"The harshness I’ve seen, that Sherry Weddell notes above and that Mark Shea has argued against for ages, has become so dominant that I no longer see a valid reason to continue this blog. The rational people may eventually leave out of boredom with the tiresome rage-aholics.... I can serve my fellow man far more effectively in my own parish, or in my own home, than I can here; arguing in endless circles with those for whom rage is a staple of life...."

I'm not saying he's wrong. He could be right. But for my own part, I'm not sure it's as serious as all that. True, there has been a lot of complaining about people in the Church, especially those who are supposed to be running the show. And between Mr Hudson and that whole Ave Maria thing in Florida, there has been a lot of hootin' and hollerin' among those who would otherwise be of like mind.

Dom Bettinelli's observation is a case in point:

"It’s hysterical. Carol McKinley labels me the Dan Rather of bloggers (whatever that means) for failing to stand up and defend Deal Hudson to the last drop of my blood, but now Bill Cork is attacking me because he says I was defending Deal Hudson. So which is it, was I defending him or not?"

Personally, my biggest complaint is the lack of imagination. It seems that most of us in the Catholic blogosphere all report on either the same thing, or each other. A few manage to have something original to say. Most of us don't. And each of us can do what they will, of course. If you only follow a select few, it's hard to notice.

Of course, I could also be jealous of the better-known bloggers. Yeah, that's it. I could be one of those luminaries on the Catholic lecture circuit, talkin' a good game about orthodoxy, having people line up for me to sign copies of my latest book, a few rich and well-preserved devout Catholic widows slipping me their phone numbers...

Wait, let's re-focus a minute.

Imagine someone receiving an award at some fancy-pants Catholic dinner here in the big-@$$ town of Washington, DC. The moment comes to give a speech:

"I'd just like to thank
all the little people
I had to step on,
to help me get
to where I am today.
I look forward to seeing
each and every one of them
on my way back down."

Now, you gotta imagine somebody saying that right about now. I know I do.

We can look back on certain saints now, and tell each other how wonderful and saintly they were and all that. But we have the benefit of hindsight. Back when they were alive, most people thought they were nuts. Probably because they were.

On October 1, we celebrated the Feast of Saint Therésè of Lisieux. She was only 23 when she died, still a novice in the Carmelite order. (You read it right, a novice. Ever notice the white veil with the brown habit? Big clue!) But the sum total of her writings is miniscule (an autobiography, letters to priests and family members and the like), compared to that which is written about her.

And now, we're got another movie about her -- this time in English. It's called... Therésè.

Today, on October 4, we remember Francis of Assisi. It's easy to remember him as the founder of a great religious order. (You know, the Franciscans.) It's not so easy to remember that his idea of a "little band of brothers," living day-to-day off the charity of others, without being either self-supporting or living off endowments, was unthinkable for its time. Harder still, is the knowledge that he was actually kicked out of his own order by his successor, and died in relative obscurity, in the company of a few loyal followers.

By the standards of today's Suburban Parish Busybody Committee, Francis was a complete loser who failed at building a consensus. That doesn't stop us from blessing animals in his name, or putting statues of him in our backyards.

Right next to the statue of Saint Therésè.

I know this priest who became famous at an early age; as a writer, a speaker, a publisher, you name it. He was on CNN and EWTN. He told me of how, whenever he travels to a public appearance, he prays the rosary, for the grace of humility. I was surprised by this revelation. He tells the Truth, even when it hurts, especially when it grinds against the Status Quo. But bishops around the country turn to him for advice and counsel (for what little evidence there is that they follow his advice and counsel), and every time he gets knocked down, he gets right back up again, and starts over. What a trooper!

If we accomplish great things in the sight of others, is it really self-aggrandizing to offer it all to Someone greater than ourselves? Do we offer our failures to Him as well?

This week, less than three months before my fiftieth (!!!) birthday, I'll be going back to college. If you had told me five years ago that these buncha suits I work for would have had to foresight to invest in me for the long haul, I would never have believed you.

It could be a new lease on life, a chance to jump-start my career, and get through the proverbial mid-life crisis relatively unscathed.

Whatever it is, I hope I never forget Who to thank. (Not to mention the point I was making.)