Saints and bishops, as any student of church history knows, often have a curious love/hate relationship.

The joy of the Special Olympics is infectious; everyone who volunteers knows that it is a privilege to be part of such a great celebration of exuberant life.

Benedict XVI doesnt seek applause, he doesnt harangue the crowds, but hes still extremely popular. He himself has explained his secret: it is obedience to the truth, not to the dictatorship of popular opinion.

The point of Advent (which begins the new Christian liturgical year, and itself begins today) is threefold, as I understand it.

Milton Friedman and his wife Rose, the pair of them diminutive octogenarians from Chicago were like a couple of fresh-fallen teen-aged lovers, doting and inseparable, often holding hands. Even in their mid-eighties, they left an impression of guileless youth.

Economics has lost one of its great practitioners and technical masters. But the loss is greater than that; the humane society has lost a champion, and liberty has lost a friend.

Even the holiest men and women were not always thus.

Is there any place on earth that more bespeaks peace, restfulness and sanctuary from the demons of modern life than a one-room Amish schoolhouse?

Many are amazed by the humility and simplicity of the saint, others by her radical heart centred theology, and still others by her courage in facing the doubt that God even existed. And of course taken together, all three viewpoints form a sort of Trinitarian blueprint for the spiritual life.

Chesterton died relatively young, with his authorial boots on, whereas Belloc lived on to enormous old age. There are several evocations of him in the diaries of Evelyn Waugh.