“It took a long time and a lot of work. Interior work of teaching myself to accept and trust the reality I could see, and exterior work of re-ordering my life to be in keeping with that reality. But I think it’s only having done that work that I could ever have become useful to anyone else. No one can.”
Dear Hilary,
Your tweets are disappearing again—which is awesome. I can say that with confidence, since I realize I’m one of those whose been reading you since before you took to Tweeting.
The second of the two 2016 posts you link to above includes a bibliography which is really helpful. You’re constantly thumping “Do the reading,” giving me flashbacks of the late Fr. Mark Pilon from my seminary days, who I remember once, disgustedly and abruptly ended class to our shame and embarrassment when he correctly realized that hardly anyone had done the reading. Or, similarly, when the late Fr. Bob Zylla, looked over the podium at our sleepy faces and, having reached Pilon’s same conclusion simply scowled, “Soft.”
I got a jump on the Von Hildebrand, “Trojan Horse” on a recent retreat, but since the book belonged to the house, I couldn’t take it with me. I’m thinking about springing for my own copy of it.
I’m grateful, especially, for the chronicle of your “red-pilling” as you did five years ago. More please!
When you mentioned the halcyon days of the JPII vocations boom, I flashed-back to the early days of my vocation. As much as I really do attribute his vocation story to helping me hear mine, it never sat right with me when folks would time and time again come up and tell me, beaming from ear-to-ear gushing proudly that I’m going to be one of those “JPII priests.” I loved JPII, still do. But it was never so clear to me even then that it was not, nor ever could be about JPII; that it could only ever always be about Jesus Christ. Something in their enthusiasm seemed off. It became so apparent, that it turned into a joke. I’d joke with a priest friend of mine that we’d quote the Sermon on the Mount and folks would think it was JPII and love us for that. “What did you preach on?” He’d ask. I’d say, “Don’t commit adultery.” “Wow,” he’d say “that’s so JPII!”
Your take is positive. “Do the hard thing.” It’s a huge service to others to pursue the truth as best you know how. That’s positive, too. That’s also where the real joy and the real cheerfulness is. The sham-joy becomes easy to spot after that. Who’d settle for it?
Separately, on behalf of the families of some of my parishioners I'm asking for prayers for the eternal rest of a young couple killed in a car crash yesterday nearby my parish. Shawn & Melody were engaged to be married this coming November and were doing marriage-prep with me. They were one of those couples taking their spiritual preparation for the Sacrament seriously. I had just given them both Holy Communion on Sunday. They were in good shape.
Odd place to ask for this, I know, but Hilary's readers seem like the type who'd be good for it.
“It took a long time and a lot of work. Interior work of teaching myself to accept and trust the reality I could see, and exterior work of re-ordering my life to be in keeping with that reality. But I think it’s only having done that work that I could ever have become useful to anyone else. No one can.”
Dear Hilary,
Your tweets are disappearing again—which is awesome. I can say that with confidence, since I realize I’m one of those whose been reading you since before you took to Tweeting.
The second of the two 2016 posts you link to above includes a bibliography which is really helpful. You’re constantly thumping “Do the reading,” giving me flashbacks of the late Fr. Mark Pilon from my seminary days, who I remember once, disgustedly and abruptly ended class to our shame and embarrassment when he correctly realized that hardly anyone had done the reading. Or, similarly, when the late Fr. Bob Zylla, looked over the podium at our sleepy faces and, having reached Pilon’s same conclusion simply scowled, “Soft.”
I got a jump on the Von Hildebrand, “Trojan Horse” on a recent retreat, but since the book belonged to the house, I couldn’t take it with me. I’m thinking about springing for my own copy of it.
I’m grateful, especially, for the chronicle of your “red-pilling” as you did five years ago. More please!
When you mentioned the halcyon days of the JPII vocations boom, I flashed-back to the early days of my vocation. As much as I really do attribute his vocation story to helping me hear mine, it never sat right with me when folks would time and time again come up and tell me, beaming from ear-to-ear gushing proudly that I’m going to be one of those “JPII priests.” I loved JPII, still do. But it was never so clear to me even then that it was not, nor ever could be about JPII; that it could only ever always be about Jesus Christ. Something in their enthusiasm seemed off. It became so apparent, that it turned into a joke. I’d joke with a priest friend of mine that we’d quote the Sermon on the Mount and folks would think it was JPII and love us for that. “What did you preach on?” He’d ask. I’d say, “Don’t commit adultery.” “Wow,” he’d say “that’s so JPII!”
Your take is positive. “Do the hard thing.” It’s a huge service to others to pursue the truth as best you know how. That’s positive, too. That’s also where the real joy and the real cheerfulness is. The sham-joy becomes easy to spot after that. Who’d settle for it?
Separately, on behalf of the families of some of my parishioners I'm asking for prayers for the eternal rest of a young couple killed in a car crash yesterday nearby my parish. Shawn & Melody were engaged to be married this coming November and were doing marriage-prep with me. They were one of those couples taking their spiritual preparation for the Sacrament seriously. I had just given them both Holy Communion on Sunday. They were in good shape.
Odd place to ask for this, I know, but Hilary's readers seem like the type who'd be good for it.
I'm grateful.
Eternal memory!