What THEY’RE Having

While in New Mexico this summer my friends Lauren and Amy and I drove into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo mountains to attend Mass at the historic Santuario de Chimayó.
 It was Pentecost Sunday.

This Labyrinthine Calling

In 1982, six months after my college graduation, with no idea where it would lead and without any clear sense of being “called” to a particular ministry, I boarded a Delta jet in Orlando, bound for San Francisco.

Truth Beneath the Ashes

Several years ago in Waco, TX, a couple hundred of us gathered for a crack-of-dawn Ash Wednesday service led by a team of seminary students. All kinds of folk—Baylor students, doctors, construction workers, grandparents—gathered at the shoreline of Lent, sleepy-eyed and somber.