It’s the feast of the patron of my parish today. I had never heard of St Sigismund before I moved here. And I could never really work up much enthusiasm about him. I don’t know why it has taken several years for me to realise that someone who killed his own son, and that someone not a godless barbarian but a zealous and pious lay activist, and still died in sanctity, is a fairly inspiring role model. He retired to a monastery when he came to his senses, to do penance and not for the cushy bachelor lifestyle and guaranteed pension. That is a life lived in the light of reality.  Maciel had to be told to go. What planet was he on?

On the other hand, it probably just confirms Don Reto Nay’s thesis, that it is better to be a whole-hearted serial killer than a lukewarm Catholic, because the former has a good chance of converting.