Today, August 28, is the Feast of St. Augustine. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for that guy, ever since I was a rebellious kid raising hell in a high school Confirmation class I wanted no part of.
For my "why I want to be confirmed" essay, I elaborately detailed all the reasons I didn't want to be confirmed. Our timid and soft-spoken pastor -- a real Jean Vianney whose faltering homilies were made up for (as I would discover only years later) by an otherworldly gentleness in the confessional -- scribbled simply on the back of my paper, "You are not alone. Have you read St. Augustine?"
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