Faith in Practice

Pride Month has always held both celebration and memory. It is a season of joy, but not shallow joy. It carries the testimony of those who survived rejection, violence, silence, disease, exile, and spiritual abuse. It remembers those who fought when visibility came at a cost. It honors those whose names were never written into the official histories, but whose courage made room for others to live.

The upcoming “Rededicate 250: A National Jubilee of Prayer, Praise & Thanksgiving” is being promoted as a spiritual renewal for the nation ahead of the United States’ 250th anniversary. Organizers describe it as a moment to “rededicate our country as One Nation under God,” featuring political leaders, military symbolism, evangelical celebrity pastors, and public calls to restore America’s “Christian foundations.” (freedom250.org) But Christians must ask a deeper question: Whi

There are some wounds the Church gives that do not heal quickly. They follow you into adulthood. They sit beside you in prayer. They whisper through hymns you used to love. They rise up at the altar, not because God is absent, but because the soul remembers what it cost to keep believing.

Pope Leo XIV’s Magnifica Humanitas arrives at a moment when humanity stands in a kind of digital wilderness. We are surrounded by astonishing technological advancement, yet at the same time many people feel more isolated, disposable, manipulated, and spiritually exhausted than ever before. The Roman Pontiff recognizes something the mystics, prophets, and saints have always known: the greatest danger to humanity is not technology itself, but the loss of our ability to see one

Holy Saturday is the most uncomfortable day in the Christian calendar. Because nothing happens. No miracles. No teaching. No resurrection. Just silence.

Good Friday The Day Religion Killed God Good Friday confronts us with an uncomfortable truth. Jesus was not killed by criminals. He was not killed by pagans alone. He was not killed by outsiders. Jesus was killed by a collaboration of religion, politics, and public opinion. That is what makes Good Friday so dangerous.

Maundy Thursday is the night everything changes. No miracles. No crowds. No confrontation. Just a table. A basin. A towel. And a command. But what happens in that upper room is not gentle spirituality. It is a complete dismantling of how religion usually works.

Holy Wednesday is quiet. No crowds. No palm branches. No loud confrontation. Only a deal being made in the dark.

Theophany sits at the heart of the Christian year for those of us shaped by the Eastern streams of the Church. In our Convergent Catholic tradition, it does more than mark the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan. It reveals something about who God is, who we are, and what the world is becoming. After the flare of Christmas, Theophany arrives with a quieter strength. It stands there on the edge of a river and tells the truth. God steps into the water with us. God does not hover abo

Father Agapios Dear family far and wide, As most of you know, I work with a street ministry that reaches out to everyone so when I sat down to write Everyone Belongs, my heart was heavy with the stories of those who have been told they are unwelcome. I thought of the weary and the broken, the dreamers and seekers, the queer and trans believers, the saints and those who have started. Too often, the very places meant to be sanctuaries have become sites of exclusion. This song

The Right Reverend Michael Angelo D'Arrigo There’s something holy—sacred, even defiant—about the persistence of the widow in Jesus’s parable. She’s not rich, not powerful, not connected. But she knows what justice looks like, and she refuses to surrender her dignity to a corrupt system. She keeps showing up. She demands to be heard. She refuses to let an unjust judge, who “neither feared God nor respected people,” determine the boundaries of her worth. And simply through the