The atheist barista (who's obsessed with astrology) asked me, "So what's your sign?" I responded, "The sign of the cross." I think she spit in my coffee.

The miracle of Good Friday is that there was no miracle. Legions of angels stood - with swords sheathed - watching as the Son took our place.

Laziness in prayer is like handing the devil a key to your house.

God loves us too much to pretend our sin isn't there. Sin is a cancer and Christ the surgeon. True prayer signs the consent form.

It is so beautifully ironic that St. Francis - the great lover of animals - is now a pigeon's target in countless yards.

Instead of loving the Trinity of God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit), we tend to love a different trinity: Me, myself, and I.

Your faith is measured by how well you love those who can't stand you.