There’s a story about Pope John XXIII. A member of the curia was continually nagging him to fix this or that problem; this official lived as though he alone saw the severity of the problems facing the church and the world, and as if without his warnings everything would collapse. Finally the pope had had enough, so he took his hyper-conscientious advisor aside and confessed that he, too, was sometimes tempted to live as though the fate of the world rested on him. He was helped, he said, by an angel who would sometimes appear by the side of his bed and say, “Hey, there, Johnny boy, don’t take yourself so seriously.”