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Priestly Poverty

It was the beach house that got to me this time. When the priest abuse scandals broke in early 2002, inaugurating what Richard John Neuhaus called our “Long Lent,” I had been ordained for less than two years. My initial reaction was shock and anger. Even after the U.S. bishops had promised in . . . . Continue Reading »

Back Row America

I first walked into the Hunts Point neighborhood of the Bronx because I had been told not to. I had been told it was too dangerous and too poor, and that I was too white. I had been told that “nobody goes there for anything but drugs and prostitutes.” The people telling me this were my . . . . Continue Reading »

Homeless in Seattle

My name is Gil ­Costello, and I live at one of the Pike Place Market’s senior housing buildings, the ­Stewart House. I am seventy years old. In 1955, at eight years old, I began my on-and-off life of homelessness. At age eleven, before becoming addicted to drugs, I learned to ride rails around . . . . Continue Reading »

Dirty Laundry

The town’s dilapidated LaundromatIs packed this morning with a crowd of menAnd women, hauling bulky laundry sacks—A full month’s worth, in fact. It’s Saturday,The last one of the month, the day when allThe members of our church’s outreach teamProvide the rolls of quarters so that . . . . Continue Reading »

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