Are the rest of us so different from our brothers and sisters in Libya or in Charleston? Are they heroes with whom we can never identify?
What if someone released all our e-mails and texts? It would make the Ashley Madison hack look quaint in comparison.
When I was baptized at 12, I refused what Baptists call “the right hand of fellowship.” I wanted the water but not the fellowship.
One day, as I considered my routine of pills and naps and exercises, I saw that it is not unlike praying the hours.
Christians didn’t baptize Aldo Leopold’s land ethic after the fact. They got there years before his work.
A memoir becomes explicitly Christian when it derives its literary power from the power of the gospel. It doesn't preach, it shows.
I knew life was a gift to be shared, not a possession to safeguard, even before my wife collapsed on the kitchen floor. But it was abstract knowledge then.
How should we Disciples make GA work going forward? I don't know the answer. I do know that we are obligated to one another only by our relationships.
Every win in our organization's history has come when a diverse group of Baltimoreans got out of their lanes and worked together.
I told her she was upsetting people with her message of accusation and fear. She responded by telling someone nearby that they were going to hell.
Sacramentality is the breath of Christian life—life that springs from the sacraments and life that yearns to return to them.
As the climb of upward mobility has grown steeper, our rags-to-riches entertainments have grown more garish, random, and humiliating.
My favorite heirloom fruit tree nursery sent an e-mail about a sale. With scarcely a thought, I ordered a bucket of trees.
The death penalty is undergoing a welcome decline in the U.S. But the policy that's replacing it isn't much better.
A hundred times I warned my kids about that stretch of road. A dozen times I inquired about streetlights, or reflectors, or anything in that tunnel.