BOOKS
Heartfelt account explores aspects of the Catholic faith
Reviewed by Andrew Junker | May 7, 2009 | The Catholic Sun
“Light Reading for Good and Wayward Catholics,” by Armiger Jagoe, is exactly as its title suggests. Jagoe, a retired — but not retiring — convert to the faith, has written a brief book filled with little asides, reminiscences, advice, stories and maybe even a fable here or there.
His title chapters, like “How Can We Help Our Priests,” or “Don’t Forget the Rosary,” or “A Challenge for Parish Councils,” should give you the idea of the type of book this is.
Many of the stories center around Jagoe mulling over some ecclesiastical or theological question and receiving advice from Greg, a wise, devout ex-seminarian.
Martha also makes a few appearances. She’s an involved, practicing Catholic who is always complaining about the Church or what her pastor has just done to the façade of the rectory, or where he’s put some new “no parking” signs.
In other words, it’s light fare for the most part. But sometimes the book wanders into headier topics.
In the chapter called “Three Words,” Jagoe is having lunch with Greg, who asks the author what three words epitomize Catholicism. After a few misfires from the author — “faith, hope, charity” and “love thy neighbor” — Greg offers his answer: “Mother of God.”
Greg explains.
“The basis and critical mystery of Christianity is the mystery of the Incarnation — that Jesus, the Second Person of the Most Blessed Trinity, became a human within the body of Mary,” he says. “Therefore, since we profess that Jesus is both human and divine — man and God — then Mary is the Mother of God. C. S. Lewis called her ‘our human nature’s solitary boast.’”
Jagoe ponders that for a while, and Greg spins out the implications of the Theotokos.
“In acknowledging her as the Mother of God, we embrace her as the quintessence of accepting God’s will, of love and compassion and of devotion to Jesus, her earthly and divine Son,” he says. “At the wedding feast in Cana, it was Mary who noticed the guests were in need of wine. She knew that Jesus could be the provider.”
This chapter is fairly indicative of the rest of the book. Jagoe manages to take a little phrase or truism and spin it out for a few pages in a way that often provokes thought.
It helps that his writing style is perfect for this kind of book. He’s able to set the scene of each brief chapter with just a few words. Jagoe also has a real knack for pacing his stories.
His being a convert — albeit one who converted 50 or so years ago — brings an added benefit to the book.
Jagoe grew up in the Deep South and only knew one Catholic family when he was a child. He joined the service during the Second World War and found himself instinctively drawn to the Catholics around him before he even knew of their religious affiliation.
After the war, he settled near Washington, D.C., and felt wayward and let down after his time flying planes in Italy. He would pop into a downtown church regularly and even joined a class on Catholicism, making sure to tell the priest he had no intention of converting.
After going on a date with a non-Catholic girl who lambasted the Church, Jagoe found himself defending the faith he didn’t even believe in.
His date suggested that he convert. It turned out to be the exact thing he needed to hear. At two in the morning, he called a local priest and said he wanted to be baptized. The priest told him he had waited 27 years for this; he could wait eight more hours.
But it was the example of his fellow servicemen that really drew Jagoe to the faith. And the lesson he spins out from that is good advice for any Catholic.
“The most important thing one can learn from my conversion is that the example we Catholics give in living our religion is the strongest means of attracting others to our faith. You cannot bulldoze somebody into heaven,” Jagoe writes.
“So, each day demonstrate your Catholic faith in your words and actions,” he writes. “Then the Hound of Heaven will do what needs to be done.”
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Media critic Andrew Junker is a staff writer for The Catholic Sun. Comments are welcome. Send e-mail to letters@catholicsun.org.