When I'm home on a Sunday afternoon, I like to make sure some simple household task coincides with On the Media so I can listen to it.Inevitably the task takes more than an hour and I end up also hearing Marketplace Money. Nothing against the personal-finance show, but my low tolerance for hearing other people's awkward conversations makes me kind of hate call-in shows generally. (See also: why I can't handle a lot of what passes for comedy anymore.)
Anyway, this past week I was doing the dishes and half-listening when a caller suddenly brought me almost to tears.
I don’t have a sob story. My family is healthy; we’ve never been denied coverage. We are simply self-employed and want to stay that way. And paying for private, individual health insurance is an ongoing dilemma.
When I posted on the government shutdown last week, I grabbed a photo from the closed-down Statue of Liberty. It was an enticing editorial choice: Give me your tired, your poor, your furloughed federal employees yearning to just do their damn jobs again. But it was also probably an unhelpful choice.
Years ago, I wrote a book on sin. To estimate its breadth and depth, I studied biblical and theological sources. But as much as the standard sources taught me, I was surprised to discover that I could also learn a lot about sin and grace by reading storytellers, biographers, poets and journalists.