Cardinal George Mundelein, the colorful archbishop of Chicago from 1915 to 1939, styled himself “Prince of the West.” He was indeed the first bishop west of the Allegheny Mountains to be made a cardinal, and he enjoyed to the fullest all the pomp and glory of a prince of the church. But

A friend wrote a beautiful song a few years ago with the refrain, “Time, like gold, is hard to find, is hard to mine...is hard to hold.” The melody of that song has been playing in my mind frequently these days, perhaps because the words express so poignantly my beliefs about time and th

The hour was early, the morning was grey, and the new year was only days old. It was not a time when one’s powers of concentration are especially keen. But when I heard, or thought I heard, a radio announcer mumble something about job figures for December, I cringed out of sympathy for the poo

I am acquainted with the night. I read until drowsy, then lie in darkness hoping sleep will take me; the hope becomes anxiety, which puts me in mind of something I need to figure out, which sets me on a course of pondering unresolved problems, composing letters, making mental to-do lists and general

Would you take seriously a presidential candidate who wore a baseball cap backwards, who sported a raft of tattoos on various body parts or who used the word “like” more than once in every sentence? No, neither would I. But I am beginning to believe we’re just too old-fashioned for

One of my oldest friends has become a stranger. Gradually, each yearly domino has come to bear on its predecessor, until the cascade has landed here: from closest of friends to bare acquaintance. My attempts at staying in touch are met with silence. Take a hint, I tell myself.   But I can&rsquo