Marked

 Most days, our schedules are clogged with avoidance: We’d rather ignore the inevitable smudge of human decay.   This morning though, Ash Wednesday, we step into lines and confront the truth of pain.   We allow strangers to mark us with a message of paradox.   Remember, you are dust. To dust you will return….

Porters, Posadas and our Advent invitation

“Welcome!” My Capuchin Franciscan postulant friend greeted me as he opened the large wooden door, inviting me inside from the Midwestern early-winter chill. There was a handsome plate beside the door, announcing to visitors that this large old house was the St. Conrad Priory. “Who is St. Conrad?” I asked, stepping inside. “He was a…

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Casting a vote beyond the political haze

For most of my adult life I have been incredibly fascinated with the interaction of politics and faith. I was ecstatic when Pope Francis spoke to U.S. Congress last fall. I loved lobbying on behalf of the Catholic bishops in Iowa—and all the Catholic concerns for the entire state—when I interned with the Iowa Catholic…

Being a companion through the mystery of suffering

I’ve never had any training in hospital chaplaincy, and I know little about medicine. Like many people, I feel awkward and uncomfortable around suffering. I prefer what I know how to manage, like the classroom where I teach. But when an acquaintance’s granddaughter, Elizabeth, was in a serious bike accident, I didn’t hesitate before agreeing…

The hope rock

With one hand I grip my luggage and move slowly down an air-bridge at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. With my other hand, I reach around to check that my backpack is securely zipped. My skin brushes a cool and smooth rock poking through the mesh pocket on the outside of my bag. I turn to…