St. Mary's Basilica in Phoenix anchors one end of a treed plaza. The Diocesan Pastoral Center anchors the other. A large, tiled fountain sits in the middle. On the Sunday after the Boston Marathon bombing, my husband and I went to Mass at the pastoral center. As we drove up, we saw signs announcing a Sikh festival. Long tables were set up. The smell of fried chickpeas and grilled naan filled the air. Children climbed on the fountain and played in the water. Men in turbans and women in gauzy saris waved to us, offering cold water and hot food.
My Table Is Spread
My Table is Spread: Most advice we give graduates today is economic. Where is faith in these commencement speeches?
My Table is Spread: If we believe Jesus rose from the dead, then we must believe in zombies. Right?
My Table is Spread: The Tsarnaev brothers accused of the Boston bombings do not represent a certain type of people.
My Table is Spread: If we do not hold the middle, we are headed for a moral conclusion that could be tragic.
My Table is Spread: Erma Gorwoda taught her friends and family how to live; now she is teaching them how to die after a life full of love.
My Table is Spread: Jesus' birth was followed by the deaths of infant boys, deaths Jesus had to have known about.
My Table is Spread: If you want to know what it's like to be an American woman, try having surgery and parasites, then watch the envious expressions on other female faces.
My Table is Spread: Religious freedom does not mean the freedom to think, a power, one presumes, even oppressive regimes cannot hold over citizens.
My Table is Spread: Church is where we hear Lazarus’ story and its moral, that a person who can’t see those in need are not to be able to see God, either.