We still miss our mother, but with no regrets and an awareness of the flow of life.
Faith in Focus
Rebuilding Christs Church: Even among the rocks, we must learn to care and not to care.
As my spiritual directee described what she called “a meltdown” in talking with her husband, she sighed, “I just don’t care anymore.” Things were not going well at the parish where she is on staff. She was fatigued; her husband was not recovering well from an injury; sh
Behind the Security Wall: A witness to the slow death of a people
Witnessing the slow death of a people
Israels Rebel Rabbi: Invoking the Torah, a rabbi defends the rights of Palestinians to preserve their homes.
When he resorts to civil disobedience, his long body hugging the earth of a Palestinian olive orchard or a home slated for demolition, Rabbi Arik Ascherman sets loose upon the Holy Land the ghost of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Like King, Ascherman lets the prophets’ hard-bitten calls f
Dating God: A young friar’s experience of solitude
The importance of solitude
Finding God in post-Katrina New Orleans
Thousands of young volunteers are a bright spot amidst the city’s slow recovery.
Beckoned by the Desert: An antidote to subjective spirituality
Each year I spend at least a few weeks in the deserts of the Southwest. My favorite places include the high desert canyons of northwest New Mexico, the Great Sonora Desert of Arizona, Death Valley, and the Big Bend area in Texas. Many of my friends in New York City cannot quite understand the attrac
Design for Others: Beautiful and low-tech solutions for daily problems
A small but important collection of ingeniously designed yet simple-to-use devices from around the globe is currently on display at the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum (part of the Smithsonian Institution) in New York City, where it will be on view until Sept. 23. Organized outdoors in the lush
A Woman Who Cared
It would not be easy to forget Sister Lucía, the frail little nun whom I met in a strange and terrible place, the Manicomio de San Lazaro in Quito, Ecuador.
Musings of an Old-Time Confessor
I heard my first confession shortly after my ordination in the summer of 1959. It was a much different era from that of today’s church.
