Life is awash with words. We chatter away, until we realize how much our words matter. Then we search and stumble.

This is the cause of our joy: when heard with faith, the word is ever fruitful.

Only a poet can come close to imagining the utter beauty and freedom of God.

Self-fulfillment is a central part of Christianity. But we can't find it by our selves.

It all comes back to this: to wait upon the Lord. The promise has been made. And now, we wait.

The Christian must strive to live, and even to die, as Christ did: generous in adversity, vulnerable in love.

For the mystic—and in heaven—time falls away. Frustration gives way to fulfillment.

The last day of life is like those that precede it. Either we open ourselves to the mystery or we withdraw into the citadel of the self.

To pray is always to call down the eternal into the temporal. That is what we do today for our dead.

This feast day is good time to remember that there is really only one thing about which we should be anxious.