I think we somtimes think of the original apostles as some kind of spiritual giants. Of course, Judas wasn't-- his betrayal disqualifies him from that kind of adulation. But the others, the great fathers of the Church, the ones Jesus chose, doesn't it have to be the case that they were great men, heroes, impossibly good? Nope. They were regular guys, just like us, with all the flaws and foibles that we all have. We see that in today's Gospel (Lk 9: 46- 50), where the disciples display both their egos, and their pettiness. First they argue among themselves over who is the "greatest." Then they try to stop someone who is casting out demons in Jesus name (successfully, apparently) because the person wasn't one of them. They don't seem to care about the fact that they might be stopping folks from being healed. They just want to have a monopoly on the adulation that comes with being in Jesus crowd. Not only that, but it also becomes clear that the disciples can't learn to change their behavior. Even after Jesus tells them clearly that they shouldn't be arguing over who is the greatest, they will do it again, at the Last Supper, of all places (Lk 22: 24). And yet we venerate these people as some of the great saints of the Church. I think that tells us something about how patient we might be with our own failings. We can tend to get down on ourselves, especially when we, like the disciples, commit the same sins over and over. We can't learn, we think. We must be fundamentally flawed, we tell ourselves. No, we're just human. God will use us anyway, even if we're not perfect, even if we're deeply broken, just like Jesus used his flawed followers. Sure, we need to pray for the grace to be holier, better people. But let's remember not to set ourselves up for failure-- and, as a result, for giving up in our efforts to live more-fully as Christ intended-- by thinking that we can be people without flaws. We aren't spiritual giants, but neither were Jesus' disciples. And that turned out to be ok.