Lopez: Shelter from the storm

This can be a miserable time, the run-up to a presidential election.

I have a few consolations, though, when politics is driving me crazier than usual. One is the Al Smith Dinner, which raises money for Catholic charities in New York, and is an American political staple — both U.S. candidates running for president typically appear and roast one another. In my youth, I was outraged when pro-abortion politicians were given a forum at the event. But during an interview with Cardinal Timothy Dolan, I asked him about that controversial inclusion. He told me that people with opposing values should be able to break bread together.

This year, presidential candidate Kamala Harris opted not to attend, so did Walter Mondale, during his failed run — just saying.

Now I'm not endorsing him for this, but Donald Trump played well with others at the Al Smith Dinner and even surprised me a bit by mentioning divine mercy.

It may be a hopeless cause, but could we be merciful to one another, especially as the election nears, and, perhaps more importantly, after it's over? Jeanne Safer wrote a book titled "I Love You, But I Hate Your Politics." The book wasn't political or pious, but it was about divine mercy, in a way. Love abundantly.

At St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, the bronze doors are adorned with local saints: Mother Cabrini, Elizabeth Ann Seton, to name a few. Among them are Kateri Tekakwitha and Father Isaac Jogues. Kateri risked her life in upper New York to be baptized. Jogues was tortured and ultimately martyred for trying to evangelize.

The shrine of the North American Martyrs is few hours outside Manhattan. And the feast day of the martyrs is always around now. Close to elections. It gives me hope.

The third consolation this time of year is celebrating the life of St. Ignatius of Antioch.

He writes: "No earthly pleasures, no kingdoms of this world can benefit me in any way. I prefer death in Christ Jesus to power over the farthest limits of the earth. He who died in place of us is the one object of my quest. He who rose for our sakes is my one desire."

And it gets better: "The time for my birth is close at hand. Forgive me, my brothers. Do not stand in the way of my birth to real life; do not wish me stillborn. My desire is to belong to God. Do not, then, hand me back to the world. Do not try to tempt me with material things. Let me attain pure light. Only on my arrival there can I be fully a human being. Give me the privilege of imitating the passion of my God. If you have him in your heart, you will understand what I wish. You will sympathize with me because you will know what urges me on."

That is abundant love. And whatever is happening in politics, it could make all the difference.

klopez@nationalreview.com