Firstly our critic, who was concerned that spiritual guidance be done properly, doesn't hesitate to look across time and space into the soul of a man he has never met, and pronounce on the state of that soul. What is the diagnosis? Well, he finds clear proof of a basic flaw: vanity. Yes vanity. And a vanity, at that, 'hardly compatible with the degree of sanctity needed for canonization' (p.192).

Thus, 'He was, for instance, distinctly vain. He was vain about his personal appearance, always dressing with great care' (p.192).

It seems therefore that taking care of one's personal appearance disqualifies one from canonisable sanctity. Cleanliness, far from being close to godliness, is rather a clear sign of ungodliness. People aspiring to holiness (and, as Vatican II has underlined, this should include all of us) should ensure that they do not take care of their personal appearance and dress. Bad news for tailors, hairdressers and soap manufacturers (and, perhaps, for those who work and live with aspiring saints). A profound insight.

As an aside, and by way of refreshing contrast to this point of view, it is worth pointing out an attractive aspect of Monsignor Escrivá's life and spirituality. Opus Dei is about sanctifying the ordinary, the apparently humdrum, the material, finding God and loving Him in the most material of tasks. Part of this involves doing things well, so that what is offered to God is done well at a natural or human level. So precisely things like looking after dress and appearance, personal hygiene, tidying up one's workplace or room before leaving, taking care of personal belongings, leaving things as one would like to find them, behaving with courtesy and consideration in the countless interactions with others at work or at home throughout the day, are all suitable raw material for growing in holiness, and can all be meeting points with God. This was a central part of Monsignor Escrivá's message, and of the heritage he has left behind. And in this context, contrary to our author's thesis, Monsignor Escrivá would argue that true virtue can be clean, cheerful, attractive, and very pleasant for others: indeed it ought to be.

Returning to the book, our author finds further 'evidence' of a lack of a suitable humility in the founder's claiming the title "Marques de Peralta." Note firstly that he was the only one of the family who could claim it, and he passed it on to his brother as soon as he could, and never used it himself, facts which Mr Walsh partly skips over. Monsignor Escrivá didn't need any great foresight to see that his action would be used to attack his character, as Michael Walsh has done. In fact he not only foresaw it, but consulted this and other aspects with Vatican Cardinals, who felt he nevertheless had almost a duty to claim his civil rights, which no-one else could claim for him. The slander aspect however was not the problem for a man who, in his humility, already considered himself 'a mangy donkey,' 'a dirty rag,' 'worth nothing'. He always tried to do what he saw was right, irrespective of how others might gossip about it. What he did find difficult was simply anything that projected him into the limelight, or involved making a fuss over him personally.

Mr Walsh dismisses the reasons for his proceeding to claim the title, without fully recording or explaining these reasons, which are given in several biographies. Instead he speaks about it as if it were something shameful, requiring an 'excuse' (p.21). This lack of full information about the circumstances doesn't matter because 'Whatever the explanation ...' it's really a sign of pride. In other words, just as with the care of one's appearance, it's not possible to have other, noble, reasons for doing things like this: 'whatever the explanation', they can be due to only one thing, pride.

Note while on this topic that in the caption to the first photo in his book, the author adds the title Marqués de Peralta to Monsignor Escrivá's name, apparently forgetting that, as the title was passed on, it does not belong to him. An interesting oversight for an eminent historian.

Further 'evidence' of vanity? 'There was more than a touch of vanity, too, in the way he kept himself remote' (p.192). 'The inaccessibility of the founder was all part of the game, part of the myth which was carefully and conscientiously being built up around him. He was an important, busy man' (p.193). I don't know whether this even needs a reply. The author's whole thesis is apparently based on one instance (p.193), and a very special case at that. But the truth is that Monsignor Escrivá achieved more in one lifetime than most would achieve in twenty: he had an amazing capacity for work. Yet he still found time to give to people, generously, all through his life. Despite his hectic schedule, there are thousands upon thousands of people, members, non-members, families of members, dignitaries, very ordinary folk, young and old, who treasure the memory of his having met them, privately and very affectionately, giving them his time and full attention, especially between his move to Rome in 1946 and his death in 1975. In fact, on p.192, the author himself describes how one family 'had solicited, and had promptly been granted, an interview with Escrivá de Balaguer. He received them with considerable warmth.' (p.192). This was very much the norm.

'The process of turning Escrivá de Balaguer into a saint had begun long before his death: it was something he connived at.'(p.192). How one connives at being a saint I'm not sure, but if the author knows of an easy way to become a saint, he's certainly got a marketable commodity.

'... it is suggested that Escrivá was a precursor of Vatican II's vision of the Church's future. The truth of the matter, however, is quite otherwise. Far from welcoming the outcome to the Council, Escrivá worked hard to oppose it.' (p.72)

It is not a matter of 'suggestion', but a matter of fact that since 1928 Monsignor Escrivá was not only preaching the universal call to holiness and the role of the laity in the Church: he was devoting his life and all his extraordinary energy to spreading this ideal. And this proclamation of every baptised person's call to holiness has been described as 'the most characteristic feature of the entire teaching of the Council, and, as it were, its ultimate purpose', by no less an authority than Pope Paul VI. So precursor he certainly was, indeed by many decades. (See also chapter 2.2).

Note, in any case, that the attitude of Monsignor Escrivá to Vatican II is irrelevant to the issue of whether or not he was in fact a precursor. Besides this failure of logic, there is also the inherent contradiction of accusing a man of being ultra-loyal to the Church's Magisterium in one place, and then accusing him elsewhere of 'working hard to oppose it.' Monsignor Escrivá was of course very happy to embrace all of the Council's teaching, so much of which was a formal vindication of his lifetime's work. What he did oppose was so much nonsense that was subsequently promoted in the name, or at least 'the spirit', of Vatican II, which in fact had nothing whatever to do with what the Council actually said or taught or intended. Needless to add, he was far from being alone in this oppostion. Just one quote on this topic should suffice: it's from Pope Paul VI.

'... and there is an attempt to introduce into the People of God a mentality which they call "postconciliar", which leaves aside the strong consistency of the wide and magnificent doctrinal and legislative developments of the Council, with the treasure of the Church's ideas and practical guidelines, to strip them of their spirit of traditional fidelity, and to spread the illusion of giving Christianity a new, arbitrary, and sterile interpretation.'

7.1 More mind-reading

On p.53 we have some more soul- or mind-reading, long-distance and reaching way back in time, back to 1945 in fact.

'If the cardinals and all the monsignori could behave that way, he [Monsignor Escrivá] reasoned, it must be perfectly proper, and therefore so too could he — all, of course, simply in order to further the Kingdom of God. In the interests of the Kingdom, the common rules of morality could be if not flouted, at least by-passed.'

Having found nothing among all the founder's writings to support the thesis that Monsignor Escrivá felt he could 'bypass morality' (whatever this might mean), nor indeed even a hearsay report from one of his star witnesses, our author, ever resourceful, does some long-distance crystal ball gazing into the mind of his subject, into how exactly he 'reasoned', and so gets the evidence he needs. Imaginary 'sources' come in handy when you're short of evidence.

He is at it again on p.155.

'the Pope might be persuaded to reopen the matter [the granting of the Prelature], reasoned Escrivá, if Opus diverted some of its considerable funds in the direction of the IOR' [the Vatican bank].

This time there's a reference number, so perhaps he has a source for this insight. You go to the supporting reference at the back and find the phrase 'So it is alleged by ...' (a journalist, J M Bernáldez). Nowhere are we told his basis for so alleging. Michael Walsh has done lots of his own alleging, but now he is happy to defer to someone else’s. Perhaps this journalist had a more powerful crystal ball than the author's, or his mind-reading is more reliable. Once again, perhaps.

If an historian is free to ignore, or edit, or reinterpret in a contrary sense, what a man has written on a topic, and further ignore what he is recorded to have said on the same topic, and instead he is permitted to present as fact speculations on the man’s reasoning processes, unpublished and unsupported by any source, then he can surely sustain almost any thesis about that man.

7.2 An alternative assessment

Judgment on the suitability or not of Monsignor Escrivá as a candidate for canonization need not depend entirely on Michael Walsh's insights. Between 1981 and 1986 two formal legal processes took place, one in Rome and the other in Madrid, which recorded the declarations of witnesses and examined a vast amount of documentation on his life, virtues and service to the Church. The two tribunals held 980 sessions. All 92 people who gave edidence were eye-witnesses, and included 4 cardinals, 4 archbishops, 7 bishops, a prelate, 27 priests, 5 religious, and 44 lay people. Members of Opus Dei were in a minority among them, and of course, a number of so called 'hostile' witnesses (critics and detractors) were there as well. A document of over 6,000 pages resulted, and was presented to the Congregation for the Causes of Saints.

The eventual outcome to date? On Monday, 9 April 1990, in the Apostolic Palace, in the presence of Pope John Paul II, there was a public reading of a decree, which declared that the Servant of God, Josemaría Escrivá, Founder of Opus Dei, practised all the Christian virtues to a heroic degree, and was therefore declared Venerable.

Surely this must be good news for all mankind: it now looks more likely that there is another person in Heaven, and a person, at that, who left a wealth of helpful advice for the rest of us about how to get there.