How many times have I uttered those words, sung those jubilant words at Mass, and paid scant heed to their meaning? I’m a poor singer, so mostly I just fake them, scarcely letting a sound escape from a tight mouth and heart. I’ve probably concentrated more on the hairdo of the woman in f

Several years ago, while I sat at my desk one morning at Continuum, an AIDS agency in San Francisco where I served as executive director, the phone rang. The caller identified herself as a secretary to the First Lady and asked if I would come to the White House for a community leaders’ forum l

When I was little, Saturday nights were often spent sleeping over at Grandmom’s house. I loved these Saturday nights; she was the perfect grandmom, bubbly and doting and willing to spoil us with Lucky Charms cereal until we were sick. She was also a devout Roman Catholic, so Sunday mornings al

It came as a surprise to find myself compelled to reflect on consciousness and mortality. It happened because I went to a Zen retreat by accident. But then, though there are surprises in this life, we may collaborate in bringing ourselves to the place of surprise—to the brink, or to the unders

A reading from the letter of Paul to... began the lector; but instead of following St. Paul’s epistle, I opened the parish bulletin and read, once again, a mother’s letter of gratitude to her fellow parishioners and the outreach program they support. The woman was not a single mom, but a