I met the monk, before he was a monk, on Facebook. The message icon flickered to life when an actor we both know made the connection: two writers, two creative people, two weirdoes, two Catholics. Perhaps we’d like to get acquainted? The monk back then had a different name; let’s call hi

When my oldest son Peter was almost 4 years old, we arrived at Sunday Mass, hurriedly walking in a few minutes late, when he noticed the prayer candles in the back corner of the church. He was mesmerized. He asked, “Mommy, what are those?” As the mother of a child who had been labeled as

As this winter gets underway in earnest, I say, go ahead and break me. Plunder me, take me down, so I can be made new. Maybe that is exactly what I need—not merely a rest but a reinvention.

Jan. 31, 2015, would have marked the 100th birthday of the American Trappist monk and author Thomas Merton.

I know a Jesuit whose father worked at the same company for 56 years. A friend and mentor just retired after 35 years at the same company, and my father has only recently begun to decelerate after practicing orthopedic surgery for almost 40 years.I am 33. After graduating from college

Raymond A. Scroth, S.J., on finding his vocation in uniform