Last Word: A Smiling Skeptic

Does Montaigne resemble the contemporary essayist who writes about faith? The short answer is that he does not—at least not in easily recognizable ways.

Last Word: When in Hebron

In Hebron I learned that the facts on the ground in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict tell a story Americans intent on "international diplomacy" don't want to hear.

Last Word: Two Confederate Flags

While my husband snapped photos of the flag, I stood in silent debate with Big Ed. And then I spied another Confederate flag; an unwelcome sensation came over me.

Last Word: Max Baer in Chicago

Chicago, 1932. The night before he would knock Ernie Schaaf unconscious, the second time a fighter would die from one of Max’s blows. We were standing at the bar.

Last Word: Flick, Flick

These idle moments when we used to be alone with our thoughts are being decimated by devices. A casual but crucial meditative dimension in our lives is disappearing.

Last Word: Senioritis

Often the way our society treats "senior citizens" assumes that as bodies age, individuality decreases. But aren't whiskers and white socks a sign of unique wisdom?

Last Word: Crumbs of Grace

Worshipping with families of Antiochian Christians in Philadelphia, you are an interloper. At the coffee hour, they pile your plate with pastries—"you are new, yes?"

Last Word: Things Fall Apart

Despite hard work, sound planning, lifestyle adjustments, and unusually well-behaved Irish genes, I find myself—to paraphrase Yeats—“where all the ladders” end.

Last Word: Measured Pains

Can we become spiritually tougher by means of small self-mortifications? Perhaps hair shirts do have a place in authentic Catholic spirituality...

Last Word: One of the Least

A story about becoming the aged and infirm Jesus has called you to love, or, "the tenderness of the Trinity playing itself out on another level."

Last Word: A Late Confession

I spent hours into the night in my small convent room, praying that I would get through the next day's lessons without breaking down or bolting. Bolting from Edward.

Last Word: Room for Both?

A low voice emerged: “Welcome to my home. Please, sit.” My host and I shook hands, and I took the chair opposite. I remember the details because he was a terrorist.
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