“Don’t you fear dying?” a young woman asked me. I said I feared not dying. For her, death is the end of a life of pleasure. For me, it's the end of decline.
Catholicism offers so many material things that convey God's grace: holy water, candles, relics. What's eating a little holy dirt when you've found God through all those things?
I enjoy what might be called “confessional tourism.” I’m fascinated by what confessors tell me, and so I tend to go to confession when I’m away from home.
Politics gives us a lovely way to externalize our virtue. Or so we feel. The world encourages us to see our votes as acts in defense of light and against darkness.
A scholar wrote to me that she fears for “the next generation of writers who grew up texting.” I think she's right, but only to a limited extent.
It baffles me that self-consciously orthodox Catholics so blithely accuse Pope Francis of heresy. Catholic claims about the papacy, however qualified, are a high-wire act.
Writing directly about what one knows, without trying to impress anyone, produces the most interesting and enjoyable writing.
The passion for not masking has led to some Christians making ridiculous claims about Providence to justify not wearing one.
The world does not like seriously religious people, like conservative rural white American Christians and like the Ultra-Orthodox Jews.
As I write, the local bishop has removed all the sacraments from the people and closed all the churches...
Most Americans assume some people in power must be the good guys, people who can do something to fix things.
- Karl Keating