Saturday I impersonated Jeff Culbreath, pretending I was a gentleman farmer. Took down a 30 foot poplar that was blocking the sun on the porch. Wasn't sure which way it would fall so tied a rope to insure success even though only about 90 degrees of the 360-degree radius would cause bad consequences (i.e. hit my neighbor's house). Watered the garden (radishes, sunflower, corn & tomatoes). Mowed the lawn. Then took a chair out to the end of the propery line and read about Eveyln Waugh in between long glances at my neighbor's four acre field.
Soon I was hungry for a run. How long had it been since I wanted to run? On a lapidary day I lapped up the miles...
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Interesting Q&A for ex-Congressman/current FoxNews O'Reilly fill-in John Kasich in Columbus Dispatch:
"Q: Do you ever read strictly for pleasure? A: It seems that all I ever do is read. Reading is necessary for individuals to be interesting. I don’t read political books; they bore me."___
"Wisely, sadly" Kathy Shaidle added parenthetically in a paragraph in A Catholic Alphabet regarding a meeting that didn't take place between author Graham Greene and Padre Pio. He had refused to meet because "meeting a saint would mean I would have to change". I found it tragic though I asked myself what would I have done in his shoes. Perhaps the same. A meeting with a saint is perfectly optional; there are no laws requiring it. And yet Greene knew that with Pio, who could see souls, there was no chance of self-subterfuge.
That St. Philip Neri quote I'd happened across Friday ("Sympathy with those who have fallen is the best way of not falling yourself") came at a good - dare I say providential - time. Later that night I would learn of a particularly hypocritical betrayal of trust. Weakness is understandable, but weakness topped with the hypocrisy of thinking oneself innocent? Or is that merely another weakness coating the original weakness? Rationalization has got to be one of the key ingredients in sin since otherwise the conscience kicks in, so I don't know why I am so surprised. And yet does not his emphasizing of God's mercy in his writings implicitly hint that deep down he is aware of his crime? It reminds me of a gentle priest in our diocese who constantly emphasized God's mercy. It was like a salve. And then it came out that he had sexually abused a young boy many years ago and then that message of mercy, at least from him, had a bitter taste. It was like he had an agenda. And yet don't we all? Who among us has not sinned?
I've long wanted to read a biography, or autobiography, of one of the fallen televangelists. Jim Bakker or Jimmy Swaggert. How did they preach while doing what they were doing? Was their being exposed actually a sign of God's mercy (i.e. 'He chastizes whom He loves')? If only the strong survive in the physical world, do only the weak survive in the spiritual? The words to a Peter Gabriel song come unbidden:
I looked up at the tallest buildingI feel more deeply what Bill Luse recently wrote: "Now if...Zippy or Riddle or Terry or Ellyn or Peony and some others went haywire, I'd be upset because I feel I know them in some limited way. If Culbreath went, I'd know the world was coming to an end." There's a keen desire for me to talk about this scandal as if that would be heal it. But it doesn't. Better to recall St. Philip's admonition. Between the pedophile priests, Bud MacFarlane and now this latest, it at least serves to solidify my trust in the only place it is secure: with Christ.
Felt it falling down
I could feel my balance shifting
Everything was moving around...
Downside up, upside down
Take my weight from the ground
Falling deep in the sky
Slipping in the unknown
All the strangers look like family
All the family looks so strange
The only constant I am sure of
Is this accelerating rate of change
UPDATE: MamaT writes:
Perhaps those writings on mercy (and homilies on mercy by the pedophile priest) were cries out to God himself, knowing perhaps even subconsciously, that they were in such need of mercy that it was the only straw they had to hold onto in the roiling sea of sin that they were in. I'm not saying this right, I'm sure. But perhaps in both cases they weren't preaching/writing it as an AGENDA, but as a way of begging God for what they could not ask outright.
And maybe it was a case of being like a child with only undeveloped faith--"Oh, please, please, please let this be true."
I say this, not to make light of either Chris' or the priest's sins. I am appalled by them. But I know that the children involved were not the only ones damaged by the sin. And whether WE can see it or not, the potential loss of those two OTHER souls mean something to God, too. It's hard for us to see that, in our righteous (and I believe in many cases it IS righteous) anger, God is mourning the damage to ALL the souls involved. Even the ones we'd like to kick to the curb.
Blessings to you! This is hard, isn't it? I spent a great deal of last night praying for Chris' soul. Lord knows he needs it. And one day, maybe when I need it too, someone will do the same for me. I have long said that I live and breathe only because some obscure Carmelite nun somewhere is praying for someone she doesn't even know.
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