We Catholics often underestimate the rewards of faithful perseverance.
As in days of old – going back to Old Testament times – God’s chosen people, the Israelites, got tired of being set apart for Him, and demanded that their prophet and judge, Samuel, give them an earthly king (1 Sam 8). “We want to be as other nations,” they raged at Samuel. They longed to enjoy the tantalizations rumored from afar, and taste the comforts, honors, and wealth of neighboring pagan nations – military might, prestige, glory, opulence, and unrestricted carnality. They were late to the party, but could still make it. In reality, Israel had what wealth couldn’t buy – the Ark of the Covenant with God’s law and Presence ever with them, and commensurate protection.
But they preferred earthly kingship to God’s.
I once worked for a major Catholic company exec who said, “We Catholics want to be cool, too, you know” while we were planning a promotional campaign for a new product. He was ready to boogie with Kool and the Gang, and buy in to edgy persuasions to get noticed. It would prove a marketing nightmare and mockery of the company image. I wondered what had gotten to him. What society deems “cool” versus what Catholicism teaches as “worthy” are usually mutually exclusive. But he was serious. The rest of us: overruled.
The product? Failed, at ridiculous cost. Mr. Cool? Still there … go figure.
If philanthropy works to promote the welfare of others, usually by monetary contribution and largesse, even more should Catholics extend spiritual altruism through prayer, sacrifice, and exemplary demeanor. Because without God leading a charge, the Red Sea will inevitably close in.
In late September as bizarre new accusations erupted upon Judge Brett Kavanaugh, his family, and legacy – despite his prevailing in earlier confirmation hearings – Legatus magazine had just gone to press with a profile on him as a Catholic. Each hour’s breaking news was like a sickening psycho film without a predictable ending. Staffers were asking “should we still run the story?” Each time, the same conclusion emerged: he hadn’t been proven guilty of anything. Were we going to abandon him without cause? As rumors gave birth to more shocking ones – a real-life horror flick – it got harder to stay in the theatre.
Final Senate vote was scheduled for Saturday, October 6. The date was gnawing at me. The next day, October 7, would be the Feast of Our Lady of Victory, commemorating the meager Christian army’s prevailing over Muslim myriads at the Mediterranean Battle of Lepanto in 1571 – a miracle-triumph attributed to their rosaries.
A friend in Washington, D.C. told me Kavanaugh was spotted praying in his parish church on that Saturday. October 6 was also the culmination of America’s 54-day coast-to-coast rosary novena.
Amid coven-like protestors screaming in the Senate hall that afternoon, the fifth Catholic Supreme Court justice was voted in, 50-48, on a First Saturday, on the eve of the worldwide Feast of the Holy Rosary –which would be prayed across 57 countries. There’s simply no match for heaven’s intervention.
CHRISTINE VALENTINE-OWSIK is Legatus magazine’s Editor.