A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Mark: People were bringing children to Jesus that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this he became indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” Then he embraced... Read more
A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Luke: Jesus told his disciples a parable, “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit? No disciple is superior to the teacher; but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher. Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove... Read more
Again and again, I try to write the way Northern Appalachia feels, here and now. I’ve got to find a way to crystalize the here and now. I am obsessed with making a memorial to the here and now. I want to be a primary source for future historians: not for battles or bombings or the doings of important men, but of traumatized people in a traumatized neighborhood at the junction where the Rust Belt collides with Northern Appalachia.... Read more
I’ve had to take a hiatus from reporting on the pro-life movement. My veteran readers know I ended up big-fish-in-a-small-pond famous in 2016 when I wrote an article condemning Frank Pavone for his abuse of a corpse as part of a political stunt to campaign for Donald Trump. Many of my fellow Patheos bloggers wrote about Pavone’s stunt at the same time, but my post is the one that went viral somehow. People started messaging me with all kinds of... Read more
Jesus and I went for a hike, to see the last of the ice. This is my prayer life, lately: asking Jesus to come with me on a hike, or a drive, or out to the backyard to turn over the compost heap. Sometimes I talk to him and sometimes he just stands there while I think about something else. It’s the only prayer I have, besides “Don’t hurt me,” and “I hope you can hear me.” I don’t... Read more
I’m going to have to talk about Elon Musk, and what he’s revealing about right-wing Catholic commentators. I don’t blame anyone who closes the tab on me after reading that first sentence. I’m so exhausted with the current situation that I never want to read the word “musk” again. But bear with me, if you can. Back in 2020, during the Black Lives Matter demonstrations, I expressed my anger at professional Right-Wing Catholics who have views on Black people. Specifically,... Read more
I want to say something about Pope Francis. Lord knows I am a terrible cynic about the Catholic hierarchy these days, and they’ve earned it. I am shy about saying any high-ranking cleric at all is a fantastic person, after loving John Paul the Second so much and then finding out all that’s known. But I really do love Pope Francis. I’ve been off Twitter for the most part the past week or so. Bluesky is much nicer for... Read more
The times continue to be interesting. I keep thinking about what story a historian would make out of my life and times one day. I wonder if any future historian could ever convey to a class of future students how surreal it feels to be an American just now. Maybe it’s different in more exciting parts of the country, but right here, where the rust belt collides with the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, it’s only surreal. Here in... Read more
The names of the twins were Sammiel and Gabbiel. Sammy and Gabby, for short. The other night, Adrienne and I were reminiscing about the dollhouse and all the wonderful fantasies we acted out with the Japanese action figures and the G. I. Joes, who are much better than Barbies in a Barbie Dreamhouse because they can bend their knees and sit. I remembered that the parents in the dollhouse were named UltraMan Agul, because that was the kind of... Read more
She approached me as I stood shivering by the car. “Ma’am, can you give me a ride home? I’ll pay you. I just live near Maryland Market.” There are two types of people in Steubenville: the Townies who talk with some variation on an Appalachian accent, and the Frannies who talk with whatever accent they learned in the places they used to live, before they came here to attend Franciscan University. I was a Franny when I came here, and... Read more
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