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Hey everybody,
It’s the feast of Blessed Yaaqub El-Haddad, and you’re reading The Friday Pillar Post.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Two things, actually:
“Today’s the feast of St. Josemaria Escriva, JD.” And you’re right. But a lot of you already know about him, and I want to tell you about this other guy.
“It’s Friday, JD. We wanted Ed. We (some of us, anyway) pay for an Ed newsletter on Friday.” And you’re right. But Ed’s not here. I’ll tell you about that after the saint.
OK, so Khalil al-Haddad was the third of eight children, born in Lebanon to devout Maronite Catholic parents.
When he was 16, he got a job teaching Arabic in Egypt. He was excited to be out on his own, in a new country, experiencing some measure of a young man’s independence.
But there in Egypt, he met two priests.
One was a Capuchin, who died a good and holy death.
“Wow,” thought young Khalil, “I’d like to be a good priest like him.”
The other was a mediocre priest. We don’t know exactly how he wasn’t great: Maybe he was lazy, or intemperate, or unfaithful, or unkind. We just know what young Khalil thought of him: “Wow. I’d like to be a
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