The best Lent of my life involved getting up every day at 5:30 a.m., hiking for miles through ankle-twisting, cobblestoned city streets, dodging drivers for whom traffic laws were traffic suggestions, avoiding the chaos of transit strikes and other civic disturbances and battling bureaucracies civil and ecclesiastical — all while 3,500 miles from home sweet home.
Baseball is, in my opinion, the most Catholic of the sports on which we lavish such attention and passion.
Because it's played without a clock, baseball is like the liturgy: a foretaste of the time-beyond-time, which is God's time, which is eternity. Baseball is also spatially eschatological or infinite: in theory, a baseball field could extend forever — as center field in New York's old Polo Grounds seemed to do, except when patrolled by a higher spirit in human form who made space disappear: Willie Mays.
And let's not forget baseball and Catholic social doctrine.
The death of Justice Antonin Scalia on February 13 — unexpected and, for many reasons, tragic — draws a curtain on the life and public service of one of the most important Catholic figures in America over the past half-century. Justice Scalia was regarded, by admirers and detractors alike, as the most consequential jurist of his time. He brought a remarkable intellect, a clear concept of judging, a distinguished literary style, and a biting wit to his work on the U.S. Supreme Court. His demolition of the majority opinion in Obergefell vs.
In his June 13 testimony before the National Security Subcommittee of the House Committee on Oversight and Governmental Reform, Dr. Thomas Farr of Georgetown's Berkley Center described the failures of U.S. international religious freedom policy over the past decade and a half and suggested some of the structural reasons for that failure: lack of strategic integration, such that religious freedom doesn't "fit" with other U.S.