Perspective with a side of Cheval Blanc, 1947

Mustafa: [taking Ego's order] Do you know what you'd like this evening, sir? 

Anton Ego: Yes, I think I do. After reading a lot of overheated puffery about your new cook, you know what I'm craving? A little perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that? 
Mustafa: With what, sir? 
Anton Ego: Perspective. Fresh out, I take it? 
Mustafa: I am, uh... 
Anton Ego: Very well. Since you're all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this BLOODY TOWN, I'll make you a deal. You provide the food, I'll provide the perspective, which would go nicely with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947. 

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I could complain about Mass this weekend.  I felt like there is a lot to complain about.

That is, if you're blessed enough to be a Catholic in America.

When I watched a bit of the news today, I realized that I have NOTHING to complain about.  

No one tried to kill my family on the way to Mass. 

No one even shouted horrible things at us or the priest and deacons.

My home is not burned down.

We did not have to flee our town.

We are not living in constant danger of being kidnapped, or of our beautiful daughters being kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery.

My bishop is not on house arrest.

My priest does not live in constant danger of being killed for offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for us.

What I think we need here is a bit of perspective.

I'd be willing to bet that any one of the persecuted Catholics in the world would have been happy to sit through the very Mass I sulked through on Sunday.

God, forgive me.