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188 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 2013
I think about the motley chaotic confusing house that is Catholicism. I think about the mad wondrous prayer of the Mass. I thing about how htere are such stunning and wonderful and confusing people in the clan of Catholic. I think about how we are all several kinds of people at once and hardly know ourselves let alone anybody else. I think about how possible the Church is, and how possible we are. I think about how really the Church is lots and lots of us mulish miracles gathered for little holy meals and story-swaps. I think about how religions are like people, capable of both extraordinary evil and unimaginable grace. I think about how the Church is sort of like the windows above me which catch these timbers of sun and focus them on the human comedy. I think about how I'd be a lot less of a man if I didn't have ways ot wake up to what I can be if I harness mercy and humor and grace and wisdom and attention and prayer and humility and courage and grace.Read it once.
Which is what all true stories are about. Which is what we are, really, at our best--true stories. And true stories, stories with love and power in them, can save your life and save your soul and bring you, if even for only a flickering instant, face-to-face with the unimaginable creative force that once, a very long time ago, explained itself to Moses as, simply and confusingly, I Am. That force is in you, in every moment, in every story; which you know and I know, and which we hardly ever admit, which we should, so I do, amen.
(the clan of catholic)
The third person to bless my rosary was a small girl in sage country. She is six years old. Whatever it is that we call the creative force that made us all and can be seen most unadorned in children beams out of this kid with the force of a thousand suns. She put my rosary on top of her head and held it there with her right hand as she put her left hand on my face and said I hope these beads will always have holy in them for when Mister Brian needs it, which is a very good blessing it seems to me.Some are stream of consciousness.
(ten blessings)
At least look her in the eye and be gentle. Christ liveth in her, remember? ... Also in the grumpy imam, and in the surly teenager, and in the raving man under the clock at Flinders Street Station, and in the foulmouthed man at the footy, and in the cousin you detest with a deep and abiding detestation and have detested since you were tiny mammals fresh from the wombs of your mothers. When he calls to ask you airily to help him lug that awful vulgar elephantine couch to yet another of his shabby flats, do not roar and use vulgar and vituperative language, even though you have excellent cause to do so and who could blame you? But Christ liveth in him. Speak hard words into your closet and cast them thus into oblivion. Help him with the couch, for the ninth blessed time ...Some, like the example we began with way back at the top of this piece, are in-between.
(how to be good)