He leaned back and sighed. “I think what you need is a spiritual experience.”
I wanted to give them better than what I had. It wasn't easy.
Facebook tells me I have 633 friends. Sirach tells me how few of those are faithful friends.
As we hiked the Abraham Path, I realized that every step was inescapably political.
My son’s death did not evoke in me an interest in the problem of suffering.
We turned an empty lot in L.A. into an edible sanctuary.
As Père Diegue surveyed the unfinished classroom, he remarked: “I’m beginning to understand why I am here.”
For some reason, I couldn’t find the holy in the holy rocks everyone else was venerating.
Each winter, my family goes to our orchard to carry out an ancient tradition.
At first I resented the costly repairs. Then I took a closer look.