A White Christian Wrestles With Race

In my Catholic elementary school, there were three minorities, all Hispanic. I lived in the country, and my neighbors were white. All of them. My teachers emphasized repeatedly and strongly that skin color was irrelevant in the eyes of God. I remember singing “What Color is God’s Skin?” (this version) in music class. But as I’ve…

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When My Life Is Good, But So Many Others’ Lives…Aren’t.

I dreamed last night that I met Pope Francis. Well, not so much met as happened to be standing right there when he blew by, laughing and carrying, of all things, a part of a broken toilet that needed to be thrown away. I was supposed to be meeting up with a friend from grad…

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Syrian refugees: A Christian’s Responsibility

Friday afternoon, Nicholas sulked and glowered and procrastinated and found a dozen ways to avoid having to–gasp–clean the bathroom sinks. At last I snapped at him to think about the children who were crossing the sea in an inner tube in November and sleeping in the woods because it was too dangerous for them to…

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