I Am a Copy Cat

“Oh my gosh, she is touching the tabernacle. Isn’t that disrespectful, nervy and eccentric?” I thought, observing the elderly, wheelchair-bound woman in the nursing home chapel. But then I watched her. Slowly, rhythmically, devoutly she would touch the golden tabernacle and then bless herself. Her genuine piety was tangible. After some time, she slowly wheeled herself over to the statue of our Lady, that of St. Joseph, and then onto the stations. I thought of offering to push her but realized that I was invisible to her and that she was deeply in prayer and did not want to be disturbed. A little later, when she was gone, I surrendered to the impulse myself: I approached the tabernacle and stood within two feet, asking our Lord for more intimacy and closeness. I copycatted her.

At the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, moved by the faith and humility of the campesinos as they climbed the hill on their knees, I surrendered to the mimetic urge and did the same, praying on each of the many steps for a different person from my past (childhood playmates, ex-teachers, family, school friends, etc.). At the end my knees were sore and my pants soiled but my spirit restored. I am a good copycat.

When the librarian explained her pilgrim walk across northern Spain, I was filled with the urge to mimic the adventure. Eventually I did copycat her.

From charismatics I learned to pray in tongues, prophesize, sleep in the spirit, cast out demons, and praise God with physical exuberance; in my Neocatechumenal community I mimicked the (European) kiss of peace on both cheeks, exhortations and echoes, asking for forgiveness and acknowledgment of judgments, and a little about giving away all of my wealth to follow Christ. At the hermitage I copy the hermits in silence and recollection; at the monastery I follow along with chant and the liturgy of the hours. From recovering alcoholics and addicts I learn to own my powerlessness, take my inventory, make my amends, and surrender to Higher Power. In the coming years, my ambition is to emulate Dorothy Day, Catherine Dougherty and Mother Teresa in their love for the poor. In these things and many more, I am a copycat.

Planted within the Church, I want to copycat everything that is good, beautiful and noble: to serve with those who serve; pray with those who pray; grieve with those who grieve; and rejoice with those who rejoice. Within the mimetic community of the Church, living in truth and love becomes increasingly effortless as the surrender to mimesis becomes routine and enjoyable.

As an expert copycat, I am not shy to be an example for others. Charles Barkley could not be a role model because he is a superstar and a celebrity. But I am just a copycat and so I am not shy to shout out with St. Paul “Follow me as I have followed Christ!”

It is great to be a copycat!