Yes, He’s the Burying Kind

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:00 pm By Max Lindenman

We should have buried Erich Priebke. Or rather, since protesters in Albano Laziale effectively derailed Priebke’s funeral cortege, forcing officials to suspend the service, we should have tried. Whatever happened, the effort would have been worth it. Not that Priebke, who died in Rome October 11 at the age of 100, was a warm or cuddly character. He’d been living under house arrest since 1998, when Italy’s Court of Appeals sentenced him to life imprisonment for crimes against humanity. In... Read more

Who Moved My Chiesa: A Corporate Casualty’s Guide to Getting Along with Priests

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:00 pm By Max Lindenman

Meghan and I are about the same age, but for several years, scarcely a day passed without my checking the Republic for her obituary. When I worked in foreclosures, I scanned our files for her name and her husband’s, praying to learn they’d soon be pitching a tent on the slopes of Mummy Mountain. Meghan was my general manager back when I worked at an online university’s sales department, and she taught me a lot about life. “We’re not selling... Read more

Thanking God for Crickets Thanking God

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:00 pm By Max Lindenman

Late one evening a couple of months ago, when Valley nights were still sultry, I was walking though Papago Park on my way to L.A. Fitness when I saw a saguaro cactus lying across my path. Even in the moonlight, I could see it was still fresh and green, and I concluded it had been uprooted and toppled by the previous night’s monsoon. Those of you who’ve never seen a saguaro up close will have to take my word that... Read more

The Lazaruses Next Door: Finale

Last updated on: May 13, 2015 at 4:31 pm By Max Lindenman

Softly, I told Chris I knew he and Laura had fought, that Laura was at my place and wanted her friend to come get her. He nodded, and I realized he had lockjaw. But then, to my surprise, he pried his lips open, and squeaked: “Tell her to give me my car keys back.” Relieved to find him so agreeable, I said okay. I could have spared myself a lot of trouble by calling the cops. But if the cops... Read more

The Lazaruses Next Door: Part One

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:00 pm By Max Lindenman

I had just about fallen asleep Saturday night when I heard a breaking window, followed by the thumping of a screen being jimmied out of its frame. Thinking that my own apartment was the object of a burglary in progress, I sprang to my feet, glad for the cover of darkness. But then I heard a shout coming from my next-door neighbor’s house and realized that the window and the problem were his. My neighbor, Chris, is a 50-year-old postal... Read more

Fear of An Ambitious Laity

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:00 pm By Max Lindenman

“Bean-counting” is a dead metaphor for most people, but a few years ago, on retreat, I saw it come back to life. I was serving as junior scullery maid, and the two older women who’d squared off over mastery of the kitchen had agreed that I should sift through the black-eyed peas for errant pebbles. But when it came to safeguarding the purity of legumes, each of these doyennes rated herself a one-woman Magisterium. Each thought her own method infallible... Read more

On Meeting a Young Drunk Again

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:01 pm By Max Lindenman

The next time I saw him, it was about six in the morning. He was sitting on the bench in the smoking section with his jaw slack, his eyes nearly shut, and his hair sticking straight up from his head — a state I must have matched point for point. Smokers rarely primp themselves for the day’s salutatory cigarette. Without facing me, he spoke first. “I can’t believe I slept twelve hours last night. My body just crashed.” It sounded... Read more

On Seeing A Young Drunk

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:01 pm By Max Lindenman

I can never remember his name, but I do remember his job: He’s an employment counselor for the disabled. His duties include putting the mentally retarded and psychiatrically disturbed to work, usually as cashiers. Whether he finds it especially stressful I have no idea, but every time I see him, he’s looped. He found me for the first time in one of my apartment complex’s smoking sections. (There are three all told, and I frequent the one by the mailboxes... Read more

The Church and the Cracked Kettle

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:01 pm By Max Lindenman

My parish’s associate pastor comes from the Phillipines. At Sunday Mass, I sit only about one-third of the way back, and church acoustics are topnotch. Nevertheless, when Father takes the pulpit, I count myself lucky if I can catch one word in three. Even these often reflect his cultural displacement. Recently, he compared faith to an umbrella in a rainstorm, which in Phoenix makes about as much sense as comparing it to a Jeepney that can take any pothole. This... Read more

Are You A Blessed Imelda?

Last updated on: March 13, 2015 at 3:01 pm By Max Lindenman

It was one of those happy misunderstandings I come by whenever I have to speed-read something. Yesterday, in his long and candid interview with America Magazine’s Fr. Antonio Spadaro, Pope Francis turns his critical eye on the leadership style he adopted during his first years as Jesuit provincial in Argentina: To be sure, I have never been like Blessed Imelda [a goody-goody], but I have never been a right-winger. It was my authoritarian way of making decisions that created problems.... Read more