Suddenly everyone is an expert on celibacy. Suddenly everyone is an expert on the priesthood. Suddenly everyone is an expert on gay priests. Or more accurately, suddenly everyone is happy to talk about the Catholic Church, no matter how little they know about Catholicism.Maureen Dowd, in a hateful c

A few months ago I received a phone call from a parishioner at St. Leo’s Church, in Stamford, Conn. It was something of a surprise: the last time I had set foot in that church was almost 14 years ago. During our conversation, I mentioned how important the parish had been in my life, and that I

When I was growing up in suburban Philadelphia in the 1960’s and 1970’s, most of my friends were Jewish. I can say with confidence that I went to more seders than novenas, and attended more bat and bar mitzvahs than First Communion parties. At one point, I had been to so many bar mitzvah

As the number of women religious declines, the public’s fascination with them only increases. One of the most highly praised books published in 2000, for example, was Mark Salzman’s novel Lying Awake, an exquisitely written tale about the religious experiences of a cloistered nun. Also p

Now that your Christmas gifts are stored away (or returned), the Christmas tree ornaments are tucked away (or broken), and the Christmas tree needles are successfully vacuumed from your carpet (or not—in my family we’re still discovering in our shag, recreation-room carpet the needles fr

In light of the events of Sept. 11, television seemsif this is possibleeven more banal than before. Despite the estimable Walter Cronkite's pronouncement at the much-delayed 2001 Emmy Awards that television helps to unite us and heal us and blah, blah, blah, it's hard not to look on the majo

In a trenchant article that appeared in The Atlantic Monthly in 1998, the Harvard theologian Harvey Cox argued that the God of contemporary culture was The Market. Think about it, wrote Professor Cox: The Market moves in mysterious ways, it is believed to be omniscient, it boasts its own caste of pr

Friday, Sept. 14On my second day at the site that the press now calls ground zero, it has become more difficult to gain access, even in a Roman collar. Today at Chelsea Piers, a sports arena turned supply warehouse, I hitch a ride in a huge tractor-trailer with two ironworkers from New Jersey. Becau

Two days after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, I made my way to one of the emergency trauma centers in Manhattan. It had been hastily set up in a cavernous sports facility called Chelsea Piers, on the Hudson River. I had been there earlier, on the evening of Sept. 11, still stunned f

Over the past few years, leaning and loafing at your ease, as Walt Whitman would say, when you pondered the coming of the year 2001, what came to mind? Did you imagine yourself strapping on your personal jet pack, à la George Jetson, and zooming off to a high-tech job in some space pad? Or did you