And whoever the man named Jesus was, He was Jewish. His parents were Jewish. His friends were Jewish. And I’m Catholic.
The fact that He was Jewish was summed up, in my immature brain, with one thought: He never ate bacon. And yet here I am, His follower, and I like my bacon extra-crispy. He was like us in all things but sin. And the bacon thing. He wasn’t with us on the bacon.
I thought my visit to Israel would be life-changing. I thought I’d never sin again, because I would be so utterly transformed, but a saint isn’t a person who has an experience and is perfect from then on. A saint is someone who takes whatever glimpses of God he or she gets and then builds on those every day.
I was just grateful to have been able to see and share some of the experiences of the Jewish people of the first century. Like them, I can meet Jesus in my sinfulness. But unlike them, I get to eat bacon.
—from the book Saint: Why I Should Be Canonized Right Away by Lino Rulli, Ch. 2 – Bacon: I Like Mine Extra-Crispy