Carl says, "He was bad enough when he was cavorting with his boyfriend and rent boys, In a way, following his conversion, he became almost unbearable. Righteous as all get-out. Only for a couple of days following his big public repentance production number in Switzerland did he really approximate what would appear to be real humility. He was quite a sad spectacle at first, but also really sweet. He had become really childlike, and solicitous and open and vulnerable and really quite engaging. He suddenly seemed to love everybody. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for others, and really dedicated himself to almost every level of work and service in our little community in Switzerland."
"Did you ever see the Alastair Sim Christmas Carol?" I ask.
"You mean the British version, black and white, from the fifties"?
"Was he like Ebenezer Scrooge when he woke up on Christmas morning?"
"Even worse," says Carl, "And better. He was really pretty delightful."
"He just returned to St. James, when I started attending again, just one week after Greta and Eric left me. In fact, he was celebrating mass on my first visit. It was early on a Tuesday evening, the 6 pm mass that was celebrated in the little chapel in the back. I grew up in the church. My father was a priest. He died last year."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thanks. But I was grieving then the death of my marriage and equally the loss of Greta and Eric both. Following the mass, I returned to kneel at the altar rail, feeling finally that I had returned home and I was crying uncontrollably. Father Griffin returned, kneeled down next to me and put his arm around my shoulder, and just stayed there with me while I continued to weep. When I was done, I turned and saw that he also had tears on his face. Then he enfolded me in a warm and tender embrace. We didn't exchange any words, until I got up to leave and we just said goodbye..."
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