I need not ask how you are. I am confident that you are with God and supremely happy. I am writing to you for two reasons. One is to thank you for your inspiration which, through your numerous books, has unfailingly steered me in the right direction. The second is to tell you how much you are needed in today’s world where Christianity is derided and Christians are bewildered as to what they should do. The revered D.P. Noonan in his biography, The Passion of Fulton Sheen, says, “Of one thing we can be sure—we shall never see his vintage again.” These are, indeed, sad words.
In the Gaelic language, Sheen means peace, Fulton means war. Your main objective was to bring peace into the hearts of people. You were successful in this endeavor, but only to a degree. You found war everywhere especially in the war within the tormented souls of men. You persevered, but it was not easy. Serving Christ is picking up his cross on a daily basis. Not even Christ was 100% successful; he himself was frequently rejected.
I join the many thousands of people who wrote to you in friendship. We are friends when we see the same truth. You shared the Truth of Christ with innumerable people and won their friendship. Your television appearances generated between 15,000 and 25,000 letters per day. You tried to answer as many as your schedule allowed. Now that your address is heaven, I think the volume of your mail has tapered off significantly. You greatly appreciated your letters and had a notebook listing the names of hundreds of your letter writers. I am taking advantage of presumably being your only letter-writer for this particular day.
Albino Luciani was Pope John Paul I for just 33 days. As a journalist he wrote letters to various figures, real and fictitious, who had passed into another world. He titled his book, Illustrissimi (for the most “illustrious”). He wrote to your esteemed friend, G.K. Chesterton after watching, with colleagues, Father Brown on Italian television. You will be pleased to know that Chesterton has become the most quotable of all Catholic writers. And you have been a mouthpiece contributing to his prodigious popularity.
Your television show, Life is Worth Living, was an enormous success. You will be pleased to know that a group, available at LifeIsWorthLiving.org, provides help for those who are tempted to believe that death is more desirable than life. People do not write letters anymore. The internet and email have taken care of that. Postage is now too expensive and people do not seem to have the time to frame a meaningful missive. At any rate, this group exists “to promote life as a treasured gift and a positive alternative to suicide.” “It is our belief,” in the words of its mission statement, “that there are no struggles that we can encounter—relational, mental, physical or spiritual—that can not be overcome.”
The problem is far more acute than it was in your time. The New York Times has called attention to a growing sect of young people who do not want to bring children into the world and fail to see the meaning of life because it inevitably leads to death. In fact, they see procreation as immoral. A spokesman for the group says, “Let’s make the death thing happen sooner rather than later.” We need a platoon of Fulton Sheens in today’s culture to combat the rising tide of despair. They need someone of your intelligence and prestige to convince them that love makes life worth living and that death is not the final act. There is life after death and the more we love, the more we are convinced that there is a God who invites us to live with him in a far better world.
I am aware that your mind is encyclopedic and your appetite for reading is insatiable. It would be a challenge to bring to your attention something that you did not already know. However, I will accept the challenge. In the 1925 Broadway show, No, No, Nanette, the lyrics to one of the featured songs read, “I want to be happy, but I won’t be happy, till I make you happy too.” But the best part of the song should have special appeal to you: “Life’s really worth living, when we are mirth-giving.” I am sure you would have seen fit to incorporate that line into one of your talks as well as in one of your “Life is Worth Living” books. People in 1925 seemed to know that love makes life worth living. What has happened to make the most obvious fact of life impenetrable?
When you were holding forth, you made Catholics proud of being Catholic. You were truly “America’s Bishop.” In this regard, I am sad to say, no one has replaced you. If you cannot return, please pray for us, or beg God to send us a clone. We need your clarity, your fidelity, and your amiability. We need someone to make virtue attractive again.
No doubt, you will read my mournful missive. But I cannot imagine what your next act might be. I think it might be something that is a continuation of your life on earth, and that is to pray for all of us unceasingly.
Your humble servant,
Donald DeMarco
