Mother Angelica: The Remarkable Story of a Nun, Her Nerve, and a Network of Miracles by Raymond Arroyo

Author:Raymond Arroyo [Arroyo, Raymond]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Biographies & Memoirs, Arts & Literature, Television Performers, Leaders & Notable People, Religious, Specific Groups, Women, Christian Books & Bibles, Catholicism, Religion & Spirituality, Worship & Devotion, Inspirational, Roman Catholicism, Churches & Church Leadership, Spirituality, Biography, Miracles, Women's Inspirational
Amazon: B000XU8D9W
Publisher: Image
Published: 2007-12-18T07:00:00+00:00

13

The Abbess of the Airwaves

A WENDY’S AD featuring a shrunken old woman with hound-dog jowls asking, “Where’s the Beef?” probably started the trend. Within months, lovable Angela Lansbury chasing murderers through Cabot Cove and a quartet of retirees living in Miami known as The Golden Girls led the Nielsen ratings, confirming the shift. By late 1984, spunky, sharp-tongued grandmothers had come into vogue, and Mother Angelica found herself well positioned to capitalize on this geriatric cultural mood.

Slouching on the brown sofa each week, her braced legs crossed at the ankle, Mother was like no one else on television. She coughed when her asthma acted up, chomped on lozenges, unleashed explosive sneezes that drew tears from her eyes, and regularly collapsed into fits of laughter. This purposely unvarnished approach endeared her to the audience. In the gaffes and imperfections, they saw themselves.

For many Angelica became a surrogate grandmother; a trusted friend the confused, the bruised, and the elderly could rely upon for spiritual counsel and comfort. More than any other Catholic figure in the late twentieth century, she seemed accessible. The Pope, though beloved by Catholics of all stripes, remained a distant icon of holiness: the father guiding the faith in another part of the world, removed from their daily existence. Mother Teresa, already regarded as “the saint of the slums,” had achieved an almost mythic level of sanctity few in suburbia felt capable of imitating. And though people knew their bishops by name, personal encounters were rare. Only Mother Angelica peered into the daily lives of the laity—into their living rooms, their bedrooms, their kitchens. As familiar as a morning cup of steaming java, she popped in with an inspired word just when they needed it. Evincing humanity, poking fun at her flaws, she made holiness attractive and feasible for the masses.

Mother Angelica conversed in the idiom of the people, using lingo sooner found in a barbershop than a cathedral.

“If you’re close to Jesus in your daily life, you can explain Jesus in a very simple way because you’re attuned to the living Jesus, the living Gospel,” Angelica said of her approach. “Jesus spoke the language of the people—you could understand; children could understand. Too often, we in the Church talk to ourselves.”

Applying spiritual balm to the wounds of the common man, her program tackled drug addiction, alcoholism, the pain of divorce, and loneliness. The “people that hurt” were hers. They were people like Rita Rizzo.

When a caller informed Mother that her husband had brought another woman home to live with them, Angelica’s advice was typical: “Well, kick him out!”

“Oh, I can’t,” the caller said.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“They have no place to go.”

“I could tell them where to go,” Mother purred. “They’re headed for hell. Tell ’em to go there.”

“I can’t judge them,” the caller whimpered.

“Are you nuts? Another woman is sleeping with your husband under your roof, and you can’t judge!”

On another occasion, Mother lectured her audience about dressing modestly, not sparing the senior citizens: “Nobody tells you because they’re afraid to hurt your feelings.

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