Aristocratic Freedom and Duty
by Raymond J. de SouzaFather Ignatius and Harry found, across the centuries, that their lives would not be determined by the accidents of birth. Continue Reading »
Father Ignatius and Harry found, across the centuries, that their lives would not be determined by the accidents of birth. Continue Reading »
Priests are still suffering the Long Lent of 2020, but at least they can rejoice this week in the beatification of Fr. McGivney. Continue Reading »
The future of the Catholic Church is not with AOC’s bigoted projections, but with St. Damien of Molokai. Continue Reading »
The young man in his cell Receives his guestWho all his heart should tell And leave there blest.In quiet companyWe shall a marvel seeAs every thought shall be By that heart known. To Rome the pilgrims came Poor as God chose . . . . Continue Reading »
Catholics can confidently look to the life of St. Louis IX for his example of Christian charity and seek his intercession in the struggles of our age. Continue Reading »
Unless we reconfigure our lives to understand and act on it, the “new evangelization” will remain just another pious slogan. Continue Reading »
In The River of the Immaculate Conception, James Matthew Wilson confirms his vocation as a public poet. Commissioned by the Benedict XVI Institute, this poem sequence of seven parts leads us through the lives of St. Juan Diego, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, and Père Marquette, with interludes on . . . . Continue Reading »
They don’t look very Christian—those strange faces made of leaves, and those women displaying cartoonishly enlarged genitals on the walls of medieval churches. Most people who have explored the medieval architecture of Western Europe have heard a tour guide explain that a particular carving . . . . Continue Reading »
In 1891, Rose Hawthorne Lathrop, daughter of the novelist Nathaniel Hawthorne, was received into the Catholic Church. She was forty years old. Within a few years of her conversion she conceived a heroic ministry to destitute cancer patients at a time when cancer was believed to be contagious. She . . . . Continue Reading »
This gold and paint on board, the fillet in her hair—I see resemblance, yes, a slantways glimpse of her Though she is gone away—it was not made from life,For no one is so blithe to pain, as if a laugh Were trembling on her lips, as if the fur like grassAlong the dragon’s jaw were just . . . . Continue Reading »