Talking’ Bout My Veneration

The whole tragic, last days of Christ had been imprinted on our our little Catholic brains since Kindergarten. Images of that poor, super-skinny dead man, hammered into splintery wood, with prickers on his bleeding head, were so commonplace that, by age eleven, looking at it was about as troubling as looking at a hamburger.

5 Personal Essays I Didn’t Get to Publish Before the Boom was Over

For the last few days, my friends have been sharing an op-ed…