I love to sing. I always have. Right around the time my singing career was about to explode, somewhere between my fifth grade performance as Rooster in Ss. Colman-John Neumann’s production of Annie and an ill-fated solo of “O Holy Night” at the same school’s Christmas pageant, I told my mom of my long-term plans to make it big. My Italian-American mother was always and continues to be my biggest fan, but as we drove in the car, her eyes stared forward as she said the words I will never forget. “Danny, maybe you should try something else. You’re just not a very good singer.” Burn. To this day, I still feel a slight singe whenever I drive through that intersection. However, mom was right. It was the truth. The Christmas pageant confirmed it. Her suggestion to try a new way helped me find community service, which helped me find the Church, which ultimately helped me find my wife, my family, my career, and most importantly, the Lord.
Knowing my mom, it was probably harder for her to tell me the truth than it was for me to hear it. Yet, I think she knew that allowing me to live in a lie was more hurtful. As a Catholic leader, how do I bring people to the truth? Do I hide in the lie that the hurt will be too much or do I embrace the possibility of all that lies in truth? What lies in truth is love. What lies in truth is the future, a better way, a fuller life. What lies in truth is the chance to get a “glimpse of the goal,” a deeper understanding of who God made us to be. We won’t always know where the truth will lead, but we know that we can’t lead, or sing, without it.