My first experience of praying the Liturgy of the Hours—also called the divine office—was hardly love at first sight. I was an 18-year-old college freshman...
Practicing Catholic
I sometimes picture myself in a nursing home where my family and friends complain about having to empty my pockets of notes, reminders, and quotes stashed here...
It was 1994, a year in my life best represented by Doc Martens and dark red lipstick. But it was also the year my best friend married young and had a baby...
When I made my final profession as a Benedictine oblate last summer, Brother Luke, one of the monks at the monastery I’d just pledged myself to, gave me a...
One of my core childhood memories is of singing at Mass. It’s neither a sappy nor a prayerful story, however. This was one of my rare moments of rebellion...
Sometimes when I visit my parents’ graves, I remember going as a boy to the same cemetery with my mom and grandmother, carrying the plastic flowers as they...
Wash dishes Even if it is only breakfast dishes you do by hand, consider it an opportunity. You need not pray a psalm—in any ordinary sense—in order to make...
There is a rhythm to pipe smoking, a ritual even, one that allows you, if you let it, to enter into a state of contemplation. You must pack the pipe first, and...
At my former parish I was the catechist for second graders, students for whom the chief focus and driving dynamic of the school year was, of course...
At the start of the Triduum last year, a theater monk offered our group of lectors this advice: Do your homework. Tell the story. The monks of Saint...