Every year on Ash Wednesday, we get reacquainted with the meaty portion of Psalm 51, proclaimed at Mass in response to the first reading.
It’s become a favorite of mine in the past couple of years—in no small part because Psalm 51 served as the trigger, more or less, for my blogs of found spirituality.
You could call it one of my earliest experiences of scripture study—Sister James recounting the story of Cain and Abel for our third grade religion class.
I’m not particularly keen to disclose this: If you poke around my iPod music library long enough, you’ll find not one, not two but three ‘Tom Jones’ tracks.
Yes, THAT Tom Jones.
Ever have one of those days when nothing seemed to go according to your plan?
I’ll admit: I’m a bit of a sucker for police dramas and whodunits.
Candlemas came a little early this year at our parish.
Today, we mark the 100th anniversary of the birth of Thomas Merton—a uniquely American saint, the patron saint of contradiction: ‘famous monk.’
Footnotes and throw-away lines can sometimes be the most fruitful parts of scripture study for me.
You’d think people would be OK with miracles and wonders, but that’s not always the case.
I heard the oddest thing from a Roman Catholic bishop this morning: He encouraged me (and about 100 or so fellow parishioners) to develop “a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.”
With Us Still 