“The Church was a billowing desert tent, once so tiny it held but a single man, wearing the simple clothing of the people of his time. It was now a vast tent, cobbled onto, ripped asunder, patched so many times in so many places, its poles bending in the wind, yet not breaking. A tent sweeping wider and wider so that no one would be denied shelter under its tattered roof. A tent not of man’s work or devices, but of God’s.

In one corner of the tent, I could hear a feverish African drum Mass, in another, a Mass in Latin for those who would have it no other way. There, a great pipe organ; beyond, guitars and marimbas. In jungles and high rise office buildings, this was a Church presided over and attended by saints and scoundrels. All under this vast tent. Theologians debating the fine points of the Incarnation; a peasant in a field of maize, kneeling at the sound of the Angelus bell. And those men in lace, Curia officials, going about their work. The saints, the molesters. This all-too-human Church, gathered under the great tent of God’s love.” 

— Paul Wilkes, 

I’ll write more about this book soon. (One perk of my perch in the blogosphere is occasionally getting advance copies of things in the mail. This was a real gem.) I’ll just say this for now: the writing is gorgeous, the memories vivid, and the journey of the author nothing less than astounding. You will be stirred, moved, challenged and ultimately uplifted.  “In Due Season” is a story of death and resurrection — a perfect book, in fact, for Lent. Look for it.