Welcome to Off the Page, soon to be called Franciscan
Spirit. Have you ever looked back on your adolescent
and young adult years and wondered how those
experiences formed your personality, your conscience,
your ambitions and desires, and maybe even your
insecurities? What did your ordinary jobs throughout
these formative years teach you about yourself,
God, and the world that you're stepping into?
Sometimes we shy away from these memories because
they're so awkward and uncomfortable because
they're so far in the past even. But have you
ever considered how God was working in you and
through you during this impactful stage of life?
And as you stepped into young adulthood, what
did you learn about the cruelty and goodness
of the world, about being mean or kind, and about
who you wanted to become? All of this, as we'll
discuss in this episode, forms and informs who
we are today. In this episode, I sit down with
Father James Martin, Jesuit priest, best -selling
author, and one of the most relatable voices
in contemporary spirituality today for a heartfelt,
often hilarious conversation about his new memoir,
Work in Progress. His numerous summer jobs are
listed in the subtitle of his book, Confessions
of a Busboy, Dishwasher, Caddy, Usher, Factory
Worker, Bank Teller, Corporate Tool, and Priest.
We laugh about teenage humiliations, the sting
of mean customers, the friends who quietly modeled
kindness without caring what anyone thought,
and the free spirits who shook us out of autopilot
and helped us glimpse who we might become. But
more than stories, this is an invitation to look
back at your own life with fresh eyes, to see
God's quiet presence woven through ordinary and
imperfect work, to practice self -compassion,
instead of shame, to rediscover the superpower
of not needing everyone's approval, and really
the gift of being oneself, and to remember one
simple life -changing truth. You don't need a
PhD to be kind, as Father Jim writes. And kindness,
he continues, might just be 90 % of what it means
to follow in the way of Jesus. I've provided
reflection segments throughout this episode,
which, again, if you're new to the podcast, these
are just opportunities to sit with something
a guest has said or a theme that we're discussing
and really allow the guest's wisdom to sink deeper
into our hearts. So whether you're spiritually
curious, wrestling with your own calling, longing
to understand yourself more deeply, or just craving
a reminder that your story matters, this episode
is for you. God meets us exactly where we are,
flawed, funny, and still very much a work in
progress. So without further ado, here is Father
James Martin. Enjoy. Father Jim, thanks for coming
on the podcast. My pleasure. Thanks for inviting
me. Yeah, so I loved your book. I'm, I'm real
passionate about memoir myself. It was vulnerable.
It was funny. You know, as you're going through
all these different summer jobs you had through
adolescence and into your college years. And,
you know, it really it does. In my opinion, it
does what a good memoir should do is it as I
was listening to you and your stories, reading
your stories. I started thinking about my own
summer jobs. And a good memoirist kind of gets
to striking a universal chord. And it made me
self -reflective. So first off, to begin, I was
just wondering, why did you write this book?
And why did you go the memoir route? Yeah, well,
thanks for those kind words. I'm glad you liked
it. I wrote it basically, I mean, we Jesuits,
we have an expression to help souls, right? That's
what we do. That's why we do everything. But
specifically this book, exactly what you were
talking about, to encourage people to see that
their own lives are filled with God's presence
and that God can work through the life of a busboy,
a caddy, a dishwasher, an usher, a corporate
tool, and even a priest. So that was the main
reason, to kind of help people see God in their
own lives. And also, you know... to tell some
funny stories. I think, I think it's, it's not
such a bad thing to make people smile from time
to time. And some of these stories, you know,
as you pointed out are pretty, pretty crazy and
they're all true. They're all true. Yeah. Well,
your, your memory is really quite remarkable.
The, the details. And I know you had some journals
as well that you could go back to. I'm sure that
was really helpful. I, um, For me, when I, memoir
is something, one of my favorite art forms, but
I kind of struggle sometimes to get past the,
because I feel things very deeply. So for me,
when I go back into memories, it's oftentimes
attached to an emotion. You know, and emotion,
as we know, can sometimes kind of cloud memory
and you don't always get the most objective sense
of that memory. And I appreciated that about
your book. It was journalistic in a sense. It
was objective, all the details. And adolescence
is just such a confusing time that. To me, I
got the feeling like, yeah, it is what it is.
What did you learn about yourself as you went
back into these different memories? What a great
question. As you mentioned, I found a journal
that I kept when I was 15, which was a gold mine,
two volumes. A volume, it makes it sound so grand.
It was in a composition book, those old wide
rule composition books. And I found it. When
my mom was moving out of her house where we had
lived for 50 years, and as soon as I touched
it on the bottom of the drawer, I remember this,
I remember thinking, oh my gosh, I remember writing
this. And opening it up was like meeting myself
unmediated at 15, which you tend not to have
an opportunity to do. I mean, as you say, memory
can be very sort of obscuring and can kind of
change what we think. to read the actual things
that I was thinking is pretty amazing. So that
was kind of a goldmine. I found that I have a
good visual memory, so I can go back and really
just close my eyes and I think, you know, recreate,
you know, where I was. As I say in the book,
and I have a good memory for conversations and
for funny phrases, a funny phrase that someone
says or a cruel phrase that someone says will
stick with you forever. And, you know, I've told
these stories, you know, a couple times, so I
remember them. I think what I'm less strong on
is sequence and timing. You know, like, when
did this happen? I mean, I had a hard time remembering.
Did I caddy before I was an usher to movie theater?
And in fact, I'll confess something to you. As
I was writing the book, I have a very strong
memory for songs, as we all do, that were playing
at the time. And the year I was describing my
time as a movie theater usher, there were some
songs that were very vivid songs. Hmm. Jerry
Rafferty's Baker Street, Chuck Mangione's Feels
So Good, a couple others just burned into my
mind that they certainly were there while I was
in the movie theater. And then I looked at some
of the movies I remembered. It was a different
year. So I think I must have worked there two
summers, right? So I finessed that a little bit.
So what I learned about myself was that... Particularly
in the journals. I was a pretty normal 15 -year
-old kid who just wanted people to like him and
wanted to have cool clothes and cool records
and have everyone think he was the coolest kid
in the school, which he certainly wasn't. You
mean keeping a journal wasn't cool back then?
Well, you know, I don't think any of my friends...
I mean, I think the girls back then, this is
not to sound sexist, but girls kept... diaries,
you know, dear diaries. I kept a journal in 1976
when I was 15, way before you were born, probably,
because it was the bicentennial year. And I thought
I was going to record all these. But, you know,
most of the journal entries, some of which are
like, you know, two pages for a day, are not
about the bicentennial, they're about what happened
in school, what I was thinking and my friends.
And so, as I said, it was a real goldmine and
really helped me with the book. And I was able
to... in a sense, you know, quote from it and
say, this is how I felt. This is not stuff. This
is not me making it up and looking back on it
with rose colored glasses. Yeah. What surprised
you as you were going back? As I was looking
through the journal? Yeah. Or just as you were
going back into some of these memories and you
were very, I really appreciated how you named
so well. This common experience of what it's
like, you know, being an adolescent and stepping
into young adulthood and the insecurity and like
you said, wanting to be liked and that humiliation
and embarrassment, you know, like all those feelings
of smallness that, I mean, it's just such an
awkward time for everyone on some level that
to name that, I think it's a really great skill.
But, you know, what jumped out to you? Did anything
surprise you there? Well, I think just what you
said, and thank you for using that word, which
I don't think I use in the book. I use unsure,
you know, uncomfortable. But I think that word
is a great word, insecurity, right? The insecurity
of, you know, going into a new summer job where,
for whatever reason, I mean, I had a lot of friends
in junior high school and high school. And for
whatever reason, when I went into these summer
jobs, none of my friends were there. Just, you
know, the luck of the draw, right? And I ended
up... working, you know, as a caddy, a busboy,
a dishwasher, a movie theater usher, a factory
worker with people I'd never met before. And
when you're 15 or 16 and you walk into a caddy
shack full of these kids who are like two or
three years older than you, bigger than you,
they golf better, they golf better than me, meaning
they golf at all. It's it's it's kind of it's
it's kind of you feel like you're on the back
foot, I think, as the British say. And so I.
I wanted to convey that sense of insecurity and
say that God can work even through that. And
then also the lessons I learned. I learned a
lot of lessons, particularly about how not to
treat people. The book starts off with a kind
of humiliating experience I had when I was a
busboy, which, you know, I sort of play for laughs,
but it was pretty embarrassing. And I remember
being mistreated. I'm 15 years old and mistreated
by this patron, this customer. And just thinking
at that time, which I can remember thinking,
I will never treat anyone like this in my entire
life. So I learned a lot of lessons. But really,
that word you used is very apt, insecurity. So
in this first reflection segment, this first
minute meditation, I wanted to talk about memoir
writing and time travel. One of my creative Bibles
for memoir writing is Mary Carr's wonderful book,
The Art of Memoir. And I pretty much read it
before I begin any new writing project. And at
the beginning, she mentions that whereas a fiction
writer starts with meaning and then manufactures
events to represent it, a memoirist usually does
the opposite. A memoirist starts with events
and then derives meaning from those events. And
I think meaning making is a beautiful thing on
the spiritual journey. And that's what a good
memoirist does. But it's also something that
I think we all can do. Of course, I should say
there are scenes in our lives that require professional
help. to work through, trauma, pain, abuse. But
there are other scenes, if you will, you know,
particularly from our formative years that, yeah,
may be complicated or awkward or messy. Summer
jobs or interactions at school or memories with
friends that can become our teachers and our
guides, even today, shining light on our tendencies,
our desires, our true selves, and even our false
selves. You know, for example, Most summers throughout
high school and college, I worked at Deer Creek
Golf Club in Clayton, Indiana, right by my family's
house. And one day our fairways had been aerated,
which is basically when the maintenance crew
punches holes in the ground in order to keep
the grass healthy and the conditions healthy
at the course and on the ground. So one day I
was asked to go. I worked in the pro shop, so
I was asked to go out to the ninth hole and remind
the group. that they needed to keep their carts
on the path because of the aeration. I did not
like confrontation, and I froze mid -confrontation
and told him, I told the group that our fairways
were being radiated, not aerated, you know, as
if this was some nuclear site like Chernobyl
or something. I knew it right when it came out
of my mouth that it was not the word that I was
looking for. And the man I was talking to really
seized the opportunity and made me feel like
an idiot. He went off on me, started making fun
of me in front of his friends, made me feel dumber
and smaller than I already felt. I went back
to the clubhouse with a flushed face and tried
to avoid that group for the rest of the day.
A funny memory, awkward memory for sure. And
so what did this teach me? You know, the way
that that one moment ate at me throughout the
rest of the day, the fact that I can recall it
even now, perhaps it teaches me that I am horrified
of being perceived as incompetent. But also,
that it doesn't really matter what people think.
So there's an insecurity there, but that insecurity
also provides a pathway for truth, I think, to
accept what God says about me rather than what
this one person was saying about me. And it's
interesting, isn't it? You know, I mean, this
person was a flat -out jerk. So why was I allowing
this jerk to have any say on who I was. Why was
I giving this person's opinion, this person's
meanness, so much of my energy and attention?
It's a question that's kind of interesting to
explore. So, you know, that's a silly example,
but maybe you're not a memoirist, maybe you are,
but maybe you can be a curious, non -judgmental
explorer of your story. nonetheless and maybe
maybe you'll learn something about god or yourself
or the very fabric of life that may influence
how you participate in the present that is one
of the real gifts of memoir and memories now
back to the conversation hmm yeah in another
theme kind of connected to that is you talked
about friends you had along the way who didn't
really care what others thought, whereas you,
and I think most of us, when we're going through
that period of life, we really care what others
think. And I noticed that even today, I think
it's human, it still creeps up. But you called
it a superpower to not care what others think.
So a question I had for you was here on the back
end, you know, looking back at that, How do you
develop that superpower of not caring what others
think and really leaning into who you are as
the beloved, as someone who God has uniquely
made you to be? Well, the people that did that
in my life when I was young, I think it came
from their family background, right? I'm thinking
of this one guy named Greg who was always kind
to people, no matter who they were. And he always
was, you know, and he still is. And so I think
a lot of it, and he came from a fairly religious
family, so I think a lot of it is your family
background. But I think, you know, in later life,
it's a choice, right? If you're not raised that
way. I mean, my parents were not obsessed with
people liking them. Let me get this straight.
That was sort of my own kind of makeup. But I
think later in life, it's a choice. And the choice
is to be free of the need for people to love,
like, or approve of you. That's just it. And
when we look at Jesus, we see someone who...
you know, he was free of that need when he's
in the rejection at Nazareth, right? And everybody
stands up and wants to throw him off the brow
of the hill. And I was just thinking of Francis
of Assisi. I mean, he strips naked and the public's
wearing Assisi. I mean, talk about, you know,
not caring what anybody thinks, you know, right
in front of his father and his mother. And so
that's, I think, a key spiritual move and a key
move to just adult maturity. Because otherwise
you're stuck, right? You're just paralyzed. And
I think through the book, I sort of come to realize
that. And then, you know, eventually I end up
in the Jesuits and, you know, everybody thinks
I'm nuts. So, but I didn't care. Yeah, being
nuts I've learned is kind of a good place to
be. You know, like I've in my own life, like
I can feel it when I start taking myself too
seriously. And in moments like that, for example,
sometimes I'll just do something simple like
put on a pair of goofy socks. Or I can remember
one time where I was giving a talk connected
to a book I wrote, and I was just taking myself
way, way, way too seriously in preparation for
the talk. So I kind of just stared that anxiety
in the face and was like, you know what? Screw
it. Like, I'm going to completely reframe, like
completely restructure this talk and begin with
a parable that I wrote a couple hours before,
just to like, you know what I'm saying? Just
to kind of reposition my soul to be like, this
does not matter. It matters, but it doesn't matter.
No, you're right. And I think how you're framing
things and why are you giving a talk and why
are you writing a book? And it's about... you
know, giving glory to God or it's about helping
people to find God in their own lives. It's not
about you. And look, some people are going to
like you and some people are not going to like
you. Some people are going to hate you. Some
people are going to love you. And that includes
your writing and your talks. And you have very
little control over that. And so it's going into
it free, right? But you're right. I think authors
can get very self -important. You know, my book,
my art, my writing, all that BS. Well, I, and
I think memoir kind of gets a bad rap too, because
it feels to some, it feels like kind of navel
gazing, you know, but it's actually the opposite
where you're going so deep into those memories
that we talked about, where you're not only finding,
at least in my experience, like you're finding
a sense of integration in yourself and then also
healing. For these kind of difficult or times
in your life that may lack resolve, you're finding
a sense of healing there that you then get to
share with the people who read it, who listen
to the audiobook, which is really great. I mean,
do you have anything to add there? No, I was
just going to say you're right. It's a strange
thing because you could be accused of narcissism
or navel -gazing. Who cares about your summer
jobs? The whole idea of writing the book is I
already know these stories. I don't need to tell
them for myself. It's to help other people, right?
And really, the focus of the book, it's a kind
of sneaky vocation story. Now, if I called it
How One Man Became a Jesuit Priest, people would
say, oh, I don't know about that. But it's a
vocation story told through the lens of these
summer jobs and through work in general. So,
yeah, you always have to keep in front of you,
why am I writing this book? And it's certainly
not about making the author look good. And I
say at the beginning of the book, I'm not going
to come out as this, like, fantastic hero that
does all these great things. In fact, I think
when you're writing a memoir, being more self
-deprecating and more critical of yourself. And
I do some pretty, not awful things, but, you
know, I'm not kind to a developmentally disabled
guy who I work with at the movie theater. I run
out of a birthday party my parents threw me so
I could get drunk again and go to a strip club.
I tell Jesus jokes on the night that John Paul
I died. It's looking at your own humanity and
your own sinfulness and also having mercy on
it. Yes. That was another question I had for
you. Sometimes when we go back into the past,
it's easy to kind of take on guilt or shame.
And I think that's another really beautiful thing
about memoir is that you're kind of saying like,
no, this is part of my story. And in some way
it helped make me who I am. So, but. For those
who may be interested, maybe they're not a memoirist,
but they're interested in going back into their
formative years and exploring some of these memories,
what advice would you give them about navigating
guilt, navigating shame for things that they
did or didn't do, like you said? There's a Gerard
Manley Hopkins poem. Gerard Manley Hopkins was
a Jesuit poet, and it starts, My own heart let
me have more pity on Lord. Right, so this sense
of kind of self -compassion. I would say a couple
things. Number one, no one's perfect. I mean,
you know, unless you're Jesus or Mary writing
a book, right, or you're Jesus or Mary looking
over your life, there's going to be some sinful
things in it. There just are. That's the first
thing, so nobody's perfect. Second thing is,
I think to have some real compassion for things
you did as a child and as a teenager. and as
a young adult even, right? Because we all go
through these things. And the third thing is,
you know, can you, even if you did do some pretty
terrible things, can you forgive yourself? Because
God forgives yourself. God forgives you. You
know, and if you need to go to confession for
it, great. You know, I tell a story in the book,
which I think is kind of funny. I wrote a book
about 20 years ago called In Good Company, which
was a more straight down the line vocation story.
The book included, as this one does, tales of
drinking and smoking pot and, you know, the kinds
of things that a teenager would do in the 70s
and 80s. And they used it for a group of high,
a number of high schools used it for their high
school kids, okay, Catholic high schools. So
here's the funny story. So the president of one
of these high schools out on Long Island wrote
to me and said, would you write a letter that
I could show to parents if the kids bring the
book home and it talks about you know, getting
drunk and getting high and whatnot. I said, sure.
So I wrote a letter saying, I don't obviously
recommend this. This is my experience, blah,
blah, blah. And a couple of months later, he
said, no one complained because all the parents
are as old as you are. And they all had that
same experience. So everybody, everybody has
these experiences. And I think we have to look
back on them with, you know, with learning, like,
what did you learn? And what do you not want
to do today as an adult, but also with some pity
on, a 15 year old, 16 year old kid. Yeah. Well,
yeah. What you just said, I think is so important
because, and I know listening to your book, we,
we both love and were impacted by Thomas Merton,
seven story mountain and the. even though like
you said merton then is he's kind of more black
or white you know like he he's um his journey
then is more linear definitely compared to his
later stuff when he gets into like zen buddhism
and more eastern thinking but he the thing i
really appreciated even with all the editing
and the stuff that got taken out was that Merton
came across as someone who was unashamedly human
and that's throughout his writing. Um, and that's
what makes him relatable. Uh, and, and in that,
in that relatability, there are lessons, there
are things that, Oh, I'm, I'm not alone in this.
Um, like I reading your book, I, it was refreshing
to get, cause my high school, middle school,
high school years were kind of difficult as it
is for a lot of people, I think. And it was like,
Oh, I'm I'm not alone. Like, this was a confusing
time for... Everybody. Everybody. Yes. I mean,
I think that everyone probably feels this sense
of, do people like me? Do they think I'm cool?
Again, except for these people who were really
kind of comfortable in their own skin. Most adolescents,
and I would say sometimes most adults or many
adults, feel this sense of, do people like me?
And that can be paralyzing, as I said. Yeah,
I mean, as I said, I wrote this to enable people
to look back on their own lives and see it with
a sense of pity and mercy and joy, too, and gratitude.
Yes, yeah. And you mentioned something just now.
It was a theme that kind of arose throughout
the book and the connection, you said, between
being kind and being comfortable in your own
skin. Can you go deeper into that? Of course.
sort of incidents that I talk about was when
I was 17, 18, I worked as a movie theater usher
at the Cinema on the Mall in Plymouth Meeting,
Pennsylvania, which is where I grew up, the Plymouth
Meeting Mall. And I was an usher. So I did all
the things that ushers do, including tear tickets,
clean bathrooms, make popcorn, all that kind
of stuff, clean up vomit and whatnot. And there
was a fellow who worked with us who was probably
in his 30s. who in the book I think I call Stanley.
That was not his real name. And he must have
had some sort of autism on the spectrum in some
way. I don't know the proper term for it. And,
you know, I wasn't mean to him, but I didn't
really go out of my way to be nice to him. And
he was, we could be kind of a pain to the ushers
and made us do all the tough work. And another
guy that I talked to, my friend Mark, who I interviewed
for the book, I went back and talked to some
of my friends and actually interviewed them.
He would say I would give him rides home at night.
I thought, oh, my gosh. And I remember thinking
Mark was one of these very kind people who just
was able to be kind and not worry about what
people thought if this guy was, you know, why
are you driving that guy home? You know, you're
this cool kid. What are you doing with this developmentally
disabled older man, you know, in your car? That's
not really cool. You should be doing this. And
I thought those two things went together. So
his ability to not care what people thought,
as I saw it, enabled him to not care what people
thought and be kind, you know, even when it may
invite people to say that's not a cool thing
to do. I could not do this. At that time, I was
unable to say, I want to take this guy home who's
so weird and strange and maybe be seen walking
with him through the mall. Yeah, I mean, even
like now, I'm just thinking, God, I would have
never been able to do that. So those two things
are connected, I think. And they're connected
in Jesus, right? When people criticize him for
being kind to people, he's fine. He doesn't care.
He continues to do it. So being kind and I think
being comfortable in your own skin and free of
the need for people to like you, go hand in hand.
Yeah, and your friend Brad was like that as well,
correct? Yeah, yeah. You want to talk about him
a little bit? Yeah, so that's an important part
of the book. Thanks for bringing that up. And
it marks a shift in the book. One of the things
I struggle with with this story is that, you
know, I go from these kind of crazy summer jobs
to thinking more deeply about life. And a good
friend of mine died, was killed in an automobile
accident when he was 20 or 21. It was 1981, so
he was, I think, 20. And there's a shift in tone
in the book. And he was my freshman year roommate
at Penn, University of Pennsylvania. And he was
this kind of free spirit. He was a poet, a wrestler,
a film student. He was just kind of himself.
And I really looked up to him, even though we
were peers. And he was one of the people that
kind of encouraged me to just, in his own way,
at age 17, just... You need to relax. Be yourself.
There's a story I tell. We went, this is college,
we were poor, and we went to get some free hors
d 'oeuvres at a party, basically, at this place
called International House at Penn, which is
where all the international students stayed.
And on the way back, it was pouring rain in Philadelphia.
It was like September, pouring, pouring. And
my shoes were completely wet. I hated getting
wet. And he said, take your shoes off. Let's
walk home barefoot. And I was just like, I'm
not doing that. He was like, come on. He punched
me in the arm a couple times, I remember. And
we did. And I had a great time, and we were laughing
when we got home. And I just thought, wow, this
is pretty amazing. I can do something that seems
strange to me or seems unusual and not worry
about what people would think. So he was a real
kind of a free spirit. Yeah. Yeah, those kinds
of people in my life, they kind of... They help
shake me from autopilot, you know, and even in
a larger sense, they shake me out of the constructs
that I've built for myself, thinking that, oh,
this is what I must do. You know, like, well,
I just did this in life, therefore I must do
this. And those kinds of people are, I envy them
in a lot of ways, but they're... They inspire
me. Yeah, and I think college is a good time
to run into people like that because they're
from all different backgrounds. I grew up in
a fairly, I would say, middle class to working
class area, middle class. And most of the people
were from the same economic background. They're
middle class, white, suburban Philadelphia kids,
right? And mostly white. And I went to Penn and
there were people from all over the country,
all over the world, from all different. ethnic
groups and all different religions and all different
economic uh you know groups so you were really
kind of challenged uh you know verbally too like
you know what do you mean by that or why are
you doing that and i remember i say in the book
first time brad and i met i could still remember
we had written to each other these days i'm sure
there's all this like choosing and pairing all
this kind of stuff and what do you like and what
you don't like well they just threw people together
back in 1978 no no personality test then no no
and we got we got i got a letter saying you're
rude i guess i can say his name your roommate
will be bradford almeda from potomac maryland
i was like okay so i wrote him a letter dear
brad he wrote me a letter we didn't know each
other and the first day maybe the first week
he said well what what did you do it in your
high school And I said, well, I was student council
president. I was in the National Honor Society.
I was in the yearbook. You're like, here's my
resume. He said, oh, my God. He said, I'm rooming
with Archie Andrews. You know, Archie, the comic
book character, which was kind of funny. So that's
the first time, you know, again, age 17, you
know, you're kind of being challenged, like,
loosen up a little bit. There's a lot of loosening
up I talk about in college. Absolutely. Yeah,
and I appreciated your vulnerability and your
honesty. You had a great quote about friendship.
You said, Are we ever fully aware how blessed
we are by our friends? Yeah. What was it like?
And I think at that time in our lives as teenagers
stepping into young adulthood, we can kind of
take that for granted, you know, and the people
who formed us and continue to inform us today.
Talk to me a little bit about friendship and
what you learned about friendship by going back
in time through writing this memoir. Thank you
for bringing that up. Actually, that came to
me in a reunion. And I think I looked at him.
I was grateful for my friends. If you'd asked
me at 17, 18, are you grateful for your friends?
I would say yes. Yeah, I am grateful for my friends.
But strangely, this is an embarrassing admission.
I think it was more like to sort of like buoy
me up. Like I'm grateful for my friends because
I can say, look at all the friends I have. I'm
so popular. People like me. I'm liked. I'm loved.
I have this friend and that friend. And I went
to a reunion. I guess it must have been, who
knows what reunion it was in high school. And
I met these, I'm in touch with most of these
people, but some of them I'm not in touch with.
And I met some of them and I just thought, my
gosh, these are really, really kind people. And
there was one guy named Steven who just is one
of the kindest people, was kind now. I think
he's a doctor now. And I just remember thinking,
you know, he's always been like this. He's always
been kind. He's always been a sweet kid. Now
he's a sweet guy, I would say. And I thought,
I don't think I recognized that back then. I
don't think I recognized that I had some very
kind and sweet and generous and funny, supportive
friends in junior high school and high school.
So that's what I meant by that. Like, are we
ever able to really appreciate them? And I would
imagine when we get to heaven, you know, if we
get to heaven, we hope, that we'll look back
and maybe even meet them and say, gosh, thank
you for being so kind and friendly. So that was
one of the graces of the book, to look back and
think about my friends and think about how kind
they were to me, how accepting they were, how
tolerant they were. You know, because I think
that's part of being a good friend, being tolerant.
Absolutely. Yeah. And that's another thing I
love about memoir is that spiritual practice,
even if you approach it that way, where is you
go back into these different scenes of your life
and all these scenes belong in the story, you
know, even the ones that are kind of that you
write and you're like, oh, man, I wish I wouldn't
have done that. Well, I'll tell you. First of
all, thank you for reading the book so closely.
I don't normally get interviewed by people who
read the book so closely. But yeah, I think it's
part of, you know, we Jesuits talk about the
examination of conscience, which is going back
over the day and seeing where God is. I think
looking at the granularity of your life is really
helpful too. And if we can look back and say,
yeah, that God was really there. God was there
with these teachers of this. person or my parent
or my sister, it's, it's, it's a, it's a blessing
to be able to do that. It's a grace to be able
to do that. Yeah. Yeah. It develops a real sense
of gratitude to go back and, you know, these
in, and again, like your, your book got me thinking
about my own friends, even some from high school
college who haven't talked to in years, but just
that gratitude of, oh, my gosh, I can't believe
that I got to room with that person. I can't
believe I got to have this stupid, ridiculous
night with that person. And that gratitude, I
think, is so important because that informs your
own lens, perspective on your life in the present,
too. Well, yeah, and I'll tell you a funny story.
So one of the – I can say this because it's in
the book. drink a lot when I was in college and
get high and whatnot. And I had some real escapades.
And one of the escapades was on a birthday night
that I talk about, which was quite something.
And I actually cut out a couple other escapades
because I thought maybe one is enough. I don't
want to scandalize too many people. And when
I was writing it, I'm in touch with all these
people, three or four people that were part of
this escapade, which included getting drunk and
coming back home. all sorts of things. And I
may be avoiding talking about it right now. And
I called them and I talked to each of them about
their memory of it. And it was hysterical. We
were just laughing about it. And they said to
me, boy, you remember, you remember this more
than we do. But it was fun to kind of reconnect
and, and just have fun, you know, revisiting
those things. And I think that's, that's a real
grace of getting older. I'm 65 now. And to be
able to look back at these things that happened,
you know, when I was like 40, 50 years ago and
still remember these things. Yeah. And that's
one of the real gifts, I think, of friendship.
And you mentioned it earlier is that the good
friends in my life, they create. even unintentionally,
they create the space for me to be myself. And
hopefully I do that for them too. So that's a
theme as well that has come up in this conversation
and throughout the book too, is being yourself,
being who God has made you to be. And I was curious,
what does it look like to be yourself? Well,
now it means to be a good Jesuit. That's myself.
i i'm glad you brought that up that is a thomas
merton theme i don't think he invented it but
the true self and the false self and one of the
themes of the book of work in progress which
is one of the reasons i call it work in progress
is that it's about becoming yourself knowing
who you are understanding what you want uh i
i was a very i guess i could say ambitious kid
who wanted to be rich that was a big thing i'd
be rich Because we weren't rich. And I thought,
boy, being rich must be the best thing ever.
You can do whatever you want and buy everything.
But I find out that I was in the corporate world
for a while. And business is a real vocation
for a lot of people. But it wasn't for me. And
I had to find out who that person was. And I
don't think, as I say in the book, there weren't
too many people asking those kinds of questions.
Yeah, yeah. You mentioned, here's another quote,
you wish that... Every adolescent could be asked
the question, what was it? What do you... What
would you do if you could do anything you wanted
to do? Yes. Yeah, exactly. Why is that such an
important question for each of us to ask? Yeah,
because it allows us to dream and it allows us
to say, even if it's something that you can't
do, even if you say, what I would do if I could
do it. I mean, now people might say, I want to
go to a... you know, the beach and walking on
the beach. But, you know, even that's kind of
revelatory. But if you say, I would like to be
a podcaster, or I would like to be a writer,
or I'd love to be someone who works in the arts,
all right? You know, like, what would you like
to do? Who would you like to be? Because it helps
you to dream, and you have to say to yourself,
well, where are those desires coming from? And
maybe you could move closer to those kinds of
things. And that's what someone did to me. They
asked me that question. Because no one had really
asked me, what do you want to do? It was more
like, here's what you have to do. Yes. Not in
a mean way. I mean, my parents were good people.
And my dad died about 20 years ago. But it wasn't
like they were super materialistic. But it was
like, look, you got to get a job. What are you
going to do? And OK, well, I'll study business.
Good idea. Versus what do you really love? And
who do you want to become? And who's God calling
you to be? So these are really important questions
to understand our desires, as Ignatius would
say. Exactly. That's the word desire. Even like
the example you gave about, well, I want to walk
on the beach all the time. Even something like
that says something about you and may say something
about your desire. Do you want to go a little
bit deeper into the importance of... discovering
and almost mining our desires. Yeah, so, you
know, we just would say, pray to understand your
deepest desires, because God's desires are your
deepest desires. Now, what does that mean? That
means that God plants in us these desires to
be, let's say, well, I mean, at the most basic
level, to fall in love. You know, a man and a
woman fall in love, they sort of discover who
they are, they come together, you know, they
create a family, something like that. And that's
through desire. On a kind of vocation or career
level, you could say a person's really interested
in biology and desires to help people physically.
And so they want to be a doctor. So that's how
God kind of awakens our vocations. But we have
to really pray about what do we really desire?
What is it that gets us up in the morning? What
appeals to us? What attracts us? And this is
one way we have of understanding our vocations.
I think people tend to think vocation is this.
sort of quasi -mystical thing. Like you have
this vision or this dream, or maybe you can in
some places, but usually it's just something
simple. It's your desire. But you have to really
mind that. It's a good word. And you have to
get to the bottom of it because often it's covered
up by so many shoulds and expectations and societal
pressures that prevent you from saying, this
is what I really want. No, I don't want to do
that. Even though everybody seems to think I
should do it, I want to do this. And not in a
selfish way, but who are you meant to be? And
so I think understanding your desires is super
important. Now for another minute meditation.
Years ago, I got really into the Enneagram. And
one of the things that a number of Enneagram
teachers talk about is your childhood wound.
how it not only has a unique role in forming
your personality, but may also help point you
toward patterns in your life and underlying desires
that are there for you to discover. Desire, that
is a topic that comes up a lot in this podcast,
and Father Jim returned to this vocational question
several times throughout his book, quote, what
would you do if you could do anything you wanted
to do? Another way to say it, What leads you
to sacrifice and wholeheartedness? For the last
memoir that I wrote, a jazz saxophonist I interviewed
put it this way, music pulls me deeper into being.
I think that's a beautiful way to put it. What
pulls you deeper into being? It's kind of reflective
of Father Jim's question as well. And of course,
this requires some digging in order to uncover
the deepest yearnings of one's heart. You know,
maybe someone's desire for wealth on the surface
is actually a deeper desire for security. Maybe
a desire for fame is actually the desire to be
known and valued for who they are. And maybe
someone's desire for a partner or spouse is a
deeper desire for connection and acceptance.
All of these things are there for us to discover
within ourselves, I think. So I'll close with
this line from another great memoirist, Elizabeth
Gilbert. And this is a quote that I've shared
with every girls golf team I've coached. She
writes, I happen to believe that we are all walking
repositories of buried treasure. I'll say that
again. I happen to believe we are all walking
repositories of buried treasure. And the joy
of life, I'd add, is discovering that treasure
alongside our family. and our friends, and our
loved ones. Now back to the conversation. Yeah,
I loved the ending to the book because After
all these summer jobs, and I love at the end
of each chapter, you're like, I didn't really
like being outside. I'm going to try to work
inside next summer. And then after working inside,
you're like, I didn't really like working inside.
I'm going to try to work outside next summer.
And after all this from thing to thing to thing,
never really content, it lands with you. finding
landing in your vocation as a Jesuit priest.
What was it like for you to, maybe for lack of
a better term, settle in and commit to something?
And was that difficult after this kind of up
and down, kind of back and forth journey? No,
it's funny. It wasn't because I was so grateful.
It was such a relief. And I had been going a
mile a minute and it was kind of going from 100
to... 25 miles an hour because you you know i
was going so fast at ge and the fast track and
working 24 7 almost weekends and being stressed
to you stop you get into the division it's like
okay now hour to a prayer day mass it's like
wow this is fantastic i mean it felt like a little
like a vacation of course jesuits work hard and
now i work probably too hard but it was a great
slowing down. And so not, no, I didn't find it
hard at all. I found it amazing. And I thought,
why don't more people do this? Life in a religious
order and community and cooking for one another
and helping the poor. And it was so purposeful
and so meaningful and learning about God and
praying. Oh, it was, I mean, the hard part came
before. But yeah, so, and I, you know, as they
say, God writes straight with crooked lines.
I was amazed I ended up there. And all my friends,
pretty much every single one, except one or two
were kind of horrified horrified well um what
do you think you know we talked about brad this
free spirit who you know kind of shakes you from
your constructs and like gets you to hey let's
walk back barefoot um what do you think he and
of course as you mentioned he tragically died
way too young. What do you think he would say
to you today about becoming a Jesuit priest?
That's pretty funny. I never thought of that.
I'm laughing because he would say, Martin, what
are you doing? What a great question. I don't
think we ever talked about religion. What would
Brad say? Brad would probably just laugh, shake
his head. I would think he'd do what my other
friends did, which is just kind of shake their
heads. And now they're used to it. My other friends
from Penn are all used to it. Here's a story
I didn't tell in the book because it was kind
of long. I told it in my other book, In Good
Company. I took my friends out, let's see, Andy
and Andy and Rob, these three friends, to New
York, in New York. In 1988, before I was going
to join the Jazz, was to tell them. And I said,
I have some news. It was a little dramatic. I
said, I got this big news I want to share. I
know the restaurant, too. It's right down the
street. And I said, I got some news to share.
And they said, we're going to guess. It's like
real college friends. Let us guess. You're leaving
GE. And I said, that's the easy part. Now I got
to figure out what I'm doing. You're going to
go back to school. You're going to be a lawyer.
You're going to be the, he kept doing all this
stuff. So I said, no, these are three Jewish
friends of mine. I said, no, I'm going to be
a priest. I'm going to be a Jesuit priest. And
so at that moment, true story, the waiter comes
over and says, do you need more time? And my
friend Andy goes, we need a lot more time. My
friend Andy, one of my – there are two Andys
in this story. One of my friends, Andy, went
home and looked up what Jesuit meant in the dictionary.
My friends didn't know that. I barely know that.
And, of course, they find Jesuitical dissembling,
evil, kind of deceitful. And he calls me. He's
like, you want to be that? It was just so funny.
Yeah, so that's probably what Brad would have
said. He would have probably just shaken his
head. Do you think that there'd be a sense of
pride for you stepping into, hey, I am being
a free spirit in a sense, like getting off this
linear path that I was on, getting off of doing
everything that I thought I was supposed to do
and now doing something that I feel called to
do? Yeah, that's very moving to hear, actually.
I never thought about that. That's quite moving
to hear. What would Brad think, and would he
be proud of me? I think, yeah, I think he probably
would. I think because he was kind of a free
spirit. That's quite moving to think about, and
maybe he'll tell me in heaven. You know, Brad,
so he died in 1981, and he told me he was a film
major at the Annenberg School of Communications
at Penn. And he told me many times, so we entered,
we started at Penn in 1978. He told me that he
wanted to go into film and music and combine
them. And I remember thinking, truly, I remember
thinking, what are you talking about? Yeah. Filming
me, what? What are you going to do? You're going
to make like a what? Like a film with music?
Well, the year after he died, MTV started. Yeah.
you know, music videos. That's just what he wanted
to do. And so he was in his own way, very, you
know, as much as you can be at 17, 18, very kind
of creative. So I think he'd be proud of me.
I hope he'd be proud of me. I guess we'll find
out and I'll find out in heaven, but he'll probably,
you'll probably just laugh. Yeah. And it is ironic.
Now here you are working in media. Yeah. No.
And, and, you know, and it's, it's also ironic
and kind of, I don't want to put too much emphasis
on it, but MTV just stopped a couple months ago.
And that to me was a kind of moving thing. It
started right after he died. It stops right as
this book is coming out. And there was a sense
that Brad would have probably been some big MTV
guru or director or so anyway. Yeah. Yeah. I
know you have a hard stop at 10 .30, so was there
anything I left out? Anything you'd like to hit
on? What was your favorite part of the book?
I'm curious. Man, I hit on it earlier, but I
think it was the relatability. There were some
great scenes, but... I'm always kind of more
of like a themes guy and the relatability of
being an adolescent and stepping in like a recurring
dream that I have very strange. It's always going
back to the golf course that I worked at in high
school and college. You know, I mean, I, I probably
have the dream every couple of months and it's,
and it's a pleasant dream. It's, That is a formative
time for each of us where you're stepping into
the workforce and you're working with adults
and like your world is kind of expanding and
they're saying things you've never heard before.
And then the insecurity of doing something new,
like, oh, I don't want to mess up this or I'm
very hard on myself. So that was relatable throughout,
like really wanting to make people happy. And
yeah, I think those inner dimensions that. were
beneath the funny scenes or sometimes humiliating
scenes, they're really relatable to me. Like
I said earlier, it made me feel less alone. Well,
thank you. Yeah. Were you a caddy? I was not.
I worked in the pro shop. Okay. But you know,
that's another thing too, is that I coach high
school golf now. So your book also helped take
me kind of back in time into my own life, but
also to develop to remind me of how important
it is to have empathy for these kids who I coach,
because that's such a confusing time for them.
Yeah. And one of the things I talk about in the,
I mean, the caddy chapter is, I think one of
my favorites, just because it's so many crazy
stories. And, you know, for the most part, people
treated me okay, not great, but okay. And I mean,
the golfers, right, the customers or whatever
you want to call them. I don't know what we called
them back then, but the people that were, you
know, whose bags I was carrying. But from time
to time, people were pretty mean and were pretty
just, you know, they treated you like a servant.
And I remember thinking, again, I'll never treat
people like this. Also, I tell some stories about,
you know, golfers that one of the reasons that
I got turned off to golf, I hope I'm not upsetting
or insulting any golfers, was So many of the
golfers that I caddied for were really angry.
They were mad about their game and they were
ticked off about slicing or hooking or whatever
it was. And I remember thinking, boy, this game
seems so miserable. So I'm sure it's not. I had
my cousin who was one of the golf pros. uh, was
love, love cat. My cousin, Tommy love catting.
But I remember thinking, boy, if this is what
golfing is like, people just get mad and saying
the F word all the time. And damn it. I, I swear
they must've said, damn it. You know, like every,
every 10 steps, damn it. Yeah, I know. It is
not one of my favorite golf psychology books
is, uh, it's called golf is not a game of perfect.
Um, and of course that, um, lessons from that
could probably go into, you know, you hit on
those in your memoir. And then for each of us
too, it's like, why do I keep expecting things
in my life to unfold perfectly? You know, like
golf is inherently imperfect. And so is life.
Well, and also I noticed, I said this in the
book and I hope it doesn't sound sexist, but
I noticed that the women seem to have a more
enjoyable time on the golf course than the men.
I don't know if that's your experience because
With the men, they were often golfing with their
business partners or some client or something
or someone from this organization. And so they
were also doing business and they were trying
to impress sometimes. I know they were trying
to impress because they would make a big flourish
of giving me a big tip. They'd say in front of
the other guy, like, here's $5 caddy or whatever,
$10, whatever it was. I don't think it was $10.
The women just seemed to kind of enjoy it more.
So I actually liked caddying for the women, even
though the other male caddies didn't like that
because they wanted to caddy for the men. I preferred
the women because they were more relaxed, in
my estimation. Yeah. Yeah, well, it goes back
to what you said. All these experiences teach
you a lot about the way the world works or the
way people think the world should work. You know,
and you hit on this again and again, like, what
does this teach me about being kind? And you
said at one point, you don't need a PhD to be
kind. So maybe we can land this here. And this
is the last title of the last chapter in your
book. Open -ended question. How did working at
the Ice Cream Inn prepare you for life? Well,
and that's for people that haven't read the book.
That's the first chapter. It's not hard to figure
out what the ice cream is served. I was a busboy
and a dishwasher at age 15. It taught me a couple
things. It taught me how to work hard, number
one. That's important. It taught me to be on
time. It taught me to ask when I don't know things,
like how do you load this dishwasher? How do
you set a table? I didn't know how to do that.
It taught me to... apologize when I needed to,
but not reflexively, not apologize just to get
people to like you. I'm sorry. That was a habit
of mine. And probably most of all, it taught
me not to be mean because there's an incident
in there where I screw up pretty royally, as
we used to say. But I'm really treated poorly
by this customer who just comes back and just
screams at me. And so be kind. I mean, really,
that's kind of the theme of the book. In addition
to it being a vocation story, be kind. Be kind
to people, particularly people who don't have
as much seeming power as you do. You know, younger
or they're in a service job or they're. Yeah.
So and, you know, I say in the book, I'm almost
physically allergic when I see stuff like that.
You experienced it. Yeah. Yeah. And it's just
it's just so easy to be. Nice to people. It's
easy to be mean to people, but it's better to
be nice to people. In this final minute meditation,
I wanted to talk about kindness, which is a huge
theme that rises up again and again throughout
Father Jim's book. Last year, I had a series
of situations where, you know, frankly, just
back to back to back, it just kind of felt like
I was striking out. I was leaving it all out
there, but walking away with nothing but frustration
and pain and kind of complicated emotions. And
one day I was driving home, wrestling with all
of this. I suddenly felt as if my mother was
smiling down on me from heaven. My mom was known
at her parish and by her family and friends as
someone who was just incredibly thoughtful and
kind. always going out of her way to make someone
else feel better. She passed away suddenly five
years ago. I'm sure you've heard me talk about
her on the podcast before, but I felt her mysterious
kind of presence there as I drove home, as I
felt broken and frustrated and just kind of overwhelmed.
And I felt, this sounds weird to say, but her
presence gave me a feeling that she was really,
really proud of me because through all these
different situations, there was something I could
come back to. And that was the fact that I had
been honest through it all, wholehearted through
it all, and kind through it all. And of course,
I wanted something to show from all my efforts,
but it was as if she was reminding me there that
the most important things in life were deeper
than that. And I felt like she was saying to
me, keep bringing the fullness of your heart
into every situation, Stephen. Keep being relentlessly
kind and the rest will take care of itself. Now
back to the conversation. Yeah, I'm a huge Kurt
Vonnegut fan. One of my favorite quotes of his,
it's in God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater and Elliot
Rosewater, this kind of savior figure protagonist.
He's baptizing a bunch of babies at once, which
is just absurd and so Vonnegut. But he says,
hey, babies, welcome to Earth. You know, it's
cold in the winter and it's hot in the summer.
By my estimate, you probably have about 100 years
here. There's only one rule I know of, babies.
Gosh dang it, you have to be kind. That's great.
That's great. Yeah. And I think you said at the
end that that's probably 90 % of being a Christian
is being kind. I think it is. And, you know,
people dismiss that and they say, oh, being Christian
is more about things than just being nice, which
is true. I mean, it's really sort of active service.
It's reaching out to people who are in difficult
situations. So it's not just being nice. But
that's a lot of it. A lot of it is being kind
and charitable and forgiving and generous and
not making fun of people. So I learned that really
the hard way, but it was a good lesson. And as
I say in the book, I learned a lot about working
and working hard, which I think, you know, actually
is a good thing to do. Don't be lazy. I start
the book off with two epigraphs, and maybe we
can end there. These are quotes from my parents.
I'm sure every parent has said this. One was
from my mom. You have to get the intonation right.
When I talk about what I was going to do in the
summer, you know, like in March, like around
this time of year, you start to think like, well,
what am I going to do this summer? And she would
say, you're not going to sit inside all summer,
that's for sure. So in the 1970s, like get out
and get a job. And my dad would always say, I
would come back and I'd complain and I'd say,
it's not a lot of fun. And he'd say, of course
it's not fun. Why do you think they call it work?
If it were fun, they'd call it play. So those
are the two things that I kind of lead the book
off to kind of set the tone. I'm sure everyone's
parents have said that to him at one point or
another. Absolutely. Yeah, no, I agree. I do
think that's a great place to conclude. And yeah,
I invite anyone listening to do what you've done
in this book. go back into your life, go back
into your life and think about, develop a sense
of gratitude for the friends you, your path interacted
with along the way, your path crossed with along
the way. And then the lessons that you learn
from these experiences that maybe were uncomfortable.
at the time, but continue to form and inform
us today. So thank you for writing the book,
and thanks for coming on the podcast, Father
Jim. Well, thanks so much, and I really do want
to say thank you for being such a close and careful
and compassionate reader of the book. I don't
often have interviews where the person has read
the book so closely and carefully, so thank you
very much, and I'm glad you liked it. So next
time we meet, we'll have to talk about our golf
course days. Yeah, that sounds great. That may
be a three -hour podcast. Okay. Well, thank you
so much. We'll talk soon. My pleasure. Once again,
that was Father James Martin. I've linked to
Father Jim's new book, as well as his other work
and any other helpful resources in the show notes
of this episode. His new book, Work in Progress,
is available on Tuesday, February 3rd, 2026.
I encourage you to pre -order it, and I'll give
a quick plug as well to the audio book. It's
read by him, the author. It's great. It's entertaining.
I could not recommend it enough. So thank you
for tuning in, and thanks as always for your
support. This is Stephen Copeland signing off.
Peace and all good.