Every boss needs someone who will occasionally say, "Whoa! Let's think about
this, Chief." But few bosses want to hear that, and consequently, the sort of
people who tend to rise in the corporate world are the sort who say, "That's a
great idea, Boss!" even when they know it isn't. Underlings concerned with
advancement tend to keep their doubts to themselves.
That's why wives are so important. They don't keep their doubts to themselves.
In that sense, it's really a shame that Roman Catholic priests cannot marry,
because if anybody needs a wife, it's Archbishop Raymond Burke. Shortly before
Christmas, he announced that the six lay members of the board of directors of
St. Stanislaus Kostka Church and a priest they had hired to be their pastor had
been excommunicated. He made the announcement in a column he writes for the
That column would never have appeared if the archbishop had a wife.
"Let's see what you've written for the paper, Raymond."
"Here it is, Martha."
She starts reading it, shakes her head and looks at her husband.
"You can't be serious. You're excommunicating them at Christmas?"
"In a technical sense, they have excommunicated themselves. I am simply
declaring it. I am just an instrument. That is the point I'm trying to make in
this column, Martha."
"Nobody is going to understand that, Raymond. All that comes across is that you
are excommunicating these people right before Christmas, and you're doing it
because they want to celebrate Christmas Mass at the church they love."
"Martha, you have to understand that . . ."
"No, Raymond. You have to understand. This fight was never about religion. It's
not like they're worshipping Satan over there. This has been a fight about
property rights. Property! Past archbishops let it slide. I know you well
enough to know you're not doing this for the money, Raymond. You're just a
little over the top about order and everything being in its rightful place. But
the bottom line is, you took away their priest and now you're excommunicating
them because they've hired a new one."
"He's been suspended, Martha."
"Suspended? So what? Haven't you ever read any Graham Greene novels? Think
about the priest in "The Power and the Glory." He was a drunk, Raymond. He
fathered a child. But he loved God, and he was willing to lose everything to
bring the sacraments to the people. There is something heroic about a flawed
priest who loves God, Raymond."
The archibishop stands there, taking in his wife's words. She continues.
"If you do this, the focus of the entire holiday is going to be on St.
Stanislaus. They'll probably draw 1,500 for the Christmas Eve Mass. Maybe
2,000. It's magical - a flawed priest bringing the sacraments to the people.
Also, did you see what that priest did at his news conference when he arrived
in town? He went around and introduced himself to every single reporter and
photographer there. He shook their hands. He welcomed them. When was the last
time you spoke with anybody from the press?"
"You know I don't talk to the press, Martha."
"I know you don't, Raymond. And I'll admit, they are a rather common lot. And
liberals, too, most of them. They did give you the business during the
election. But still, you need to learn to mingle with all kinds, Raymond. You
really do. But that's a lesson for another day. Right now, I want you to throw
out this column. Write something about love and faith and joy. Leave the canon
law and the property fights for another day. I mean, Raymond, this is