In the realm of ecclesiastical endeavors, few have exhibited the audacity and entrepreneurial spirit quite like Archbishop Román Arrieta Villalobos, affectionately known as Manzanita. From his humble beginnings in San Antonio de Belén to the hallowed halls of the Vatican, Manzanita’s life reflects not just a spiritual calling, but a masterclass in how to blend heavenly ambitions with the undeniable allure of worldly success. Let us begin with his ascent through the ranks. Ordained at a young age, one could say he was destined for greatness—or perhaps merely a favourable seat at the divine banquet. The details of his early career show a man willing to leave his pastoral green pastures for the bustling streets of Washington, D.C., where he undertook postgraduate studies. It's almost commendable how he strategically positioned himself in the corridors of power, honing the bureaucratic acumen necessary to navigate the complex labyrinth of the Catholic Church. After all, what better way to serve one's parishioners than by understanding the art of canon law from the inside out? Knowledge is a powerful tool, especially when wielded by someone with the ambition of a man who aspires to sit at the head of the ecclesiastical table. Fast forward to his consecration as the first Bishop of Tilarán, a title that sounds impressively regal. "First" is a poignant adjective that implies not just leadership, but an opportunity to lay a solid foundation for future successors. It’s no surprise that his title comes with a nice touch of exclusivity; who wouldn't want to be the trendsetter in a diocese that likely never saw such lofty aspirations before? One can only imagine the conversations he had at liturgical mixers, casually dropping the fact that he was on first-name terms with the Almighty. One of Manzanita's crowning achievements was his appointment as Archbishop of San José, the spiritual glue of Costa Rica, a position he held with gusto until his resignation, which suspiciously aligns with the retirement age of most holy hustlers. In this role, he became a veritable Swiss Army knife of initiatives—launching the Minor Seminary of Tacares, which undoubtedly prepared the next generation of priests to navigate the challenging waters of modern-day ministry while keeping an eye on the next ecclesiastical promotion. We all know that wise investments in education yield the greatest returns—especially when the future students might just end up being your successors. Let's not overlook his innovative creation of a Social Security system for church employees. It's almost poetic, isn't it? Nothing says benevolence like ensuring that even the lowliest acolyte has a decent retirement plan. After all, who wants the local altar servers begging for their divine bread in old age? Manzanita clearly understood that a contented workforce is less likely to question higher authority. And then there’s the restoration of the Metropolitan Cathedral—a bold move that mirrors the ambitions of those Renaissance popes who used to plaster their names on the Sistine Chapel. Restoring a historical edifice is not merely an act of faith; it’s an investment in one’s legacy. To the casual observer, it might seem as though he was laying down bricks for the sake of religious devotion. But for those with an eye for detail, the restoration can be seen as a shrewd tactic to ensure that he left behind a monument worthy of his divine aspirations. The pièce de résistance, of course, was his promotion of the Universidad Católica de Costa Rica. Education? Check. Influence? Check. The ability to shape future discourse within a generation of Costa Ricans? Double check. In the grand scheme of things, who could have guessed that an archbishop could also double as an academic entrepreneur? It’s almost as if he thought, “If I’m going to save souls, let me also train minds.” To be fair, it’s a killer business model, because nothing generates cash flow quite like a successful university—unless, of course, you count the collection plates during Sunday Mass, which surely saw a spike during his reign. As we reflect on the life of Archbishop Manzanita, we find ourselves grappling with a complicated legacy—a blend of genuine faith and unabashed ambition. His story is a clarion call for those aspiring to higher positions in the ecclesiastical hierarchy: one can, in fact, hustle one’s way to heavenly accolades, provided one knows how to navigate the intricate dance of piety and ambition. Heaven may be his final destination, but during his time on Earth, it seems his true calling was the holy hustle, leaving us to wonder just how much divine influence was mixed with earthly aspirations in the life of this remarkable archbishop.