I have been talking with a dear friend who is in conflict about something. Like someone with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, he can’t understand why the conflict persists. Late into a recent night, I finally said, “But man, you can’t do it alone!” And there it was: another reason why I am Catholic.As the liturgy does so often, the readings for today spoke directly to this question in my heart. Paul writes to... Read more

I often lie awake in the small hours of the night. It’s a soon-to-be-old-man thing. Last night, both to get back to sleep and to avoid waking Katie, I read a Kindle book by the teeny light of my iPhone. Tonight, after thrashing around wondering whether it’s time to start posting again, I’m writing about it.I was reading George Weigel’s book Letters to a Young Catholic. As a book publisher, I wonder how much of the $7.03 Kindle download fee... Read more

I received an e-mail last evening from a priest living in a foreign country whom I will call Father Danielsen. He and I have corresponded off and on since he discovered this blog a few weeks back, and his comments have been uniformly supportive. I feel very grateful for his comments and for his support, and he has not been alone in offering them. Many people close to me—and quite far from me too—have responded joyfully and supportively. But last... Read more

From age 15 to my mid-50s, I rarely attended church, and still I’m pretty sure that God never abandoned me. Even when I found myself bobbing on an open sea without a life jacket, tiny bits of prayer and praise came to me like driftwood, like the coffin to which Ishmael clung. “A Mighty Fortress is Our God,” the Doxology, the Our Father, the First and Greatest Commandment: These were four pieces of my Christian past that stayed with me.... Read more

Back on September 8th, we celebrated the Birthday of Mary. It is not possible to say “Why I Am Catholic” without a word or two about Mary. In fact, I have a word or two about two Marys. First, the Blessed Virgin and a couple of personal thoughts. I spent long enough time in the Congregational and Episcopal churches to understand that there is a certain prejudice against our devotion to Mary. I find this ironic, coming from churches that are... Read more

My father tried his best to make a man of me, playing tackle football with my brother and me on the living room carpet and encouraging us to savor the great outdoors, of which there was much to savor in the Minnesota of our childhood. But at age fourteen, I set off on a six-week canoe trip in the north woods, and my Paul Bunyan period came to an abrupt end. There were two terrors I remember from that trip:... Read more

Men’s group was unusual yesterday morning. There were only eight of us present, but after the closing prayer no one moved. Usually we are closer to fifteen, and when Frank has finished leading a prayer to Michael the Archangel, most everyone stands. What explained the small turnout and people remaining in their seats? Maybe the weather. Maybe the subject of the meeting: this blog. Our Christian life is contradictory: very private, yet on display for the world to see. Of... Read more

Since today is Sunday, we are unlikely to hear much about St. Luke, whose feast is celebrated on October 18. So on day 2 of my new saint-a-day scheme I thought I’d look farther afield. With seven saints to choose from, according to this calendar, my attention was grabbed by St. Justus, surely the youngest cephalophore in Butler’s Lives of the Saints. According to the bio at Catholic OnLine, Justus was born in 278 “and lived at Auxerre, France, with... Read more

I said my first rosary 35 years before I owned a rosary. It was at Lourdes in the summer of 1971, in the company of the mentor of my early years, Cesareo Pelaez, who celebrates his 77th birthday today. When I wrote a post summarizing my first seven weeks of blogging, it struck me that I hadn’t written about a whole list of “Cesareo moments.” Lourdes 1971 is the first that comes to mind. Cesareo moments were times when, long... Read more

When I was a teenager, I was obsessed with two things: death and popularity. This is one reason I like “Joan of Arcadia”: It moves from the ultimate to the banal and back again, and always in reference to God. One moment Joan is pondering final questions, the next she is wondering whether she will be a social pariah if she follows God’s request and becomes a cheerleader. And always the solution is the same, the words we say in... Read more