It's not an unusual profile of a Catholic family in the U.S. these days. A Pew survey on the eve of the pope's visit confirms that one in four Americans raised Catholic are now "ex." Millions more are somewhere between "in" and "out."
Last week on Colorado Public Television's Colorado Inside Out, Dave Kopel showed real independence, not allegiance to the ideology of the right-leaning Independence Institute, where he works, when he called Democrat Morgan Carroll a "really excellent" candidate.
This town in northern Israel has everything but circus barkers touting its main product. Storefronts are alive with oversize signs all telling the same story: This is the spot where Jesus Christ performed the first of some three dozen miracles.
Overwhelmed by the savagely wild beauty of its forested mountains, precipitously rugged cliffs and plunging emerald valleys, she asked her son, who just happened to be God, to make it her garden which, true to filial piety, he did.
At the season finale of Dragnificent, Atlanta's premier drag competition, I saw the most offensive number I believe exists. Celeste Holmes, host of Dragnificent, introduced the performer by telling the audience, "You are not prepared for this." Celeste was right.
Make a wish and blow out your birthday candles. See a shooting star, stop what you are doing, and offer your longings to the universe. These are wish-making tactics for wherever you may be, but what of the places that have a strong history of wish lore?
Christian dogma and devotion, as sincere as it might be, robs the mother who bore Jesus of her humanity. The very concept of an asexual "mother of God" is alien and foreign to Jewish culture and to the Hebrew Bible.