Maybe part of the metaphorical power of Roosevelt’s quote—“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood”—is that it’s possible to feel our faces marred with dust and sweat and blood when the arena is an emotional smackdown rather than a physical one. I felt beat-up on the way home from the lecture. Father Murray shined a light into a dark, unexplored corner of my behavior, and I knew that what I saw had to change.
