Off-the-shoulder tops. Short skirts. Sheer, glittery dresses. Clothing for women? Nope. These items were in the girls department of a store I passed by one wintry day. I couldn’t help but wonder: Does modesty matter anymore? And, if not, what does this mean?
Life is about rules. We learn that lesson young when a parent says, “Don’t put that in your mouth.” As we age, the list of rules grows. Some rules, such as “Don’t put that in your mouth,” are obvious, and compliance comes without a second thought. Others are more complicated.
Author Annie Dillard has a popular quote: “We catch grace like a person filling a tin cup at a waterfall.” That quote intrigued and troubled me. I stuck it on my bulletin board, next to pictures of my kids, prayers for the canonization of Boys’ Town founder Father Edward Flanagan and a picture of me with Sister Helen Prejean, C.S.J. My bulletin board, in other words, holds for me a variety of reminders of grace.
One of the striking things about the Easter and post-Easter narratives in the New Testament is that they are largely about incomprehension: In the canonical Gospels, the early Church admitted that it took some time for the first Christian believers to understand what had happened in the Resurrection and how what had happened changed everything.
Pope Francis’ bold decisions to canonize Blessed John XXIII without the normal post-beatification miracle and to link Good Pope John’s canonization ceremony to that of Blessed John Paul II just may help re-orient Catholic thinking about modern Catholic history.
Among married men and women who undergo surgical sterilization through a vasectomy or a tubal ligation, it has been estimated that anywhere from 10-20 percent will come to regret the choice.
This coming Aug. 3 will mark the golden anniversary of Flannery O’Connor’s “Passover,” to adopt the biblical image John Paul II used to describe the Christian journey through death to eternal life.
“Always and everywhere” is a fairly comprehensive expression. Some might say it is dimensionless.
One of the many reasons to follow the Lenten station church pilgrimage through Rome is that along that unique itinerary of sanctity, one discovers otherwise-hidden jewels of church architecture and design, created in honor of the early Roman martyrs.
For the better part of two centuries now, one of the standard tropes in western high culture has held that the-God-of-the-Bible-is-the-enemy-of-human-freedom.
