A few years ago, my wife looked at me, after one of my rants about how bad things were getting in the Church, and asked me a simple question: “If this makes you so miserable, why are you still doing it?”
I understood her question to be about my work, in particular, but also about my fight for Catholicism against seemingly overwhelming odds. It was, truthfully, incredibly frustrating. And yet I immersed myself in it again and again, day after day. Don Quixote on his trusty Rocinante, heading into battle against an army of towering foes.
The truth was, I didn’t have an answer for her at first. In fact, it took me a few days before I thought I knew. I came back to her, and I did my best to explain it: