And then there were none.

Disappointment is a sort of bankruptcy - the bankruptcy of a soul that expends too much in hope and expectation. ~Eric Hoffer

Today was a series of cascading stories of profound disappointment.

First, the revelations regarding Fr. John Corapi and the laundry list of his alleged misdeeds. For the entirety of the scandal involving Fr. Corapi, I thought he was handling the situation poorly; thought he was concentrating on the wrong things; thought he was coming across too much used car salesman and not enough pastor. One thing I never thought, though, was that he was in any way guilty of the numerous, salacious charges laid at his feet. To hear his society enumerate, clearly and with purposeful language, evidence of his guilt was disheartening. However, it's not the things of which he is accused which troubles me most about this matter. People are weak; sex and drugs and money are effective motivators for anyone, and Fr. Corapi is not immune. I could forgive him any of these things without so much as a blink of the eye. What devastated me, however, is the fact that he willingly and knowingly used his position and his supporters by not only lying without compunction, but then evidently moving to profit off the entire sordid mess.

Following shortly on the tails of the Corapi news was the announcement of the verdict in the Casey Anthony case. Now, I must immediately state that I have watched exactly zero of that trial. Nada. Zilcho. The circus atmosphere and tabloid-writ-large ambiance and the flip-top head caterwauling of Nancy Grace and her ilk made me avoid the entire business like the plague. Bad enough to have the sad story of a beautiful child whose life was cut short in some tragic fashion; then to hear the disgusting details piled on did not make for evening viewing I was in a hurry to see. However, like most people, I did form an opinion based on what information was in the media and that I was unable to avoid. Like most people, I am fairly certain that Casey Anthony is guilty of the death of her daughter. Beyond that fact, only God knows. Hearing the not guilty verdict rendered literally made me feel sick to my stomach. A certain miscarriage of justice. A murderer goes free.

Reflection, however, has gotten the better of me.

Both cases share the same disappointment; the same, overriding sense of human depravity; the same disgust.

The reason I included the quote from Eric Hoffer is that, ultimately, he's mostly right. My disappointment comes from my own projections, my own expectation of people. What I should feel instead is sorrow and relief.

Fr. Corapi will not be able to avoid the consequences of his actions. His supporters will leave him, his revenue stream will dry up, and eventually he will be left broken, hopefully repentant and changed.

Casey Anthony will be a free woman, but only in the sense of geography. If she truly is guilty, the guilt of such a burden will haunt her every second. However, I have to remember that in this case, the evidence could not conclusively prove to a jury that they must convict her and, as such, it is better for our system of justice to err and release a murderer, than to wrongfully imprison even one innocent soul. I have to believe that the system worked as it was supposed to. Ultimately, justice will be done either way. "Vengeance is mine, I will repay."

Where disappointment might be an over-expenditure of expectation, I refuse to believe that there can ever be an over-expenditure of hope. The old rhyme about the Ten Little Indians comes to mind:

Ten little Indian boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little Indian boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little Indian boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little Indian boys playing with a hive;
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.
Five little Indian boys going in for law,
One got in Chancery and then there were four.
Four little Indian boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little Indian boys sitting in the sun;
On got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little Indian boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there were none.

In the end, while each of us stands alone, we make the choice to hope, or to give up hope. We either grip it firmly with both hands, or we despair, and hang ourselves with the loose ends.

Fr. Corapi, Casey Anthony...these are in the hands of God. Disappointment is a wasted moment when there is so much else in life to love.