Edward R. Murrow, the legendary journalist, was fearless in the face of bombs, bullies, dictators, and demagogues as he reported the news from 1937 until his death in 1965.

Many churches bear the names of Saints Peter and Paul. One of the most prominent is the spectacular Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, the cathedral church of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia.

A friend of mine, Josh, is a deacon in a church of a different Christian faith than mine, and it’s interesting to me to observe how that role is interpreted in his church.

I was on a train in Italy with college friends, including the woman who would become my wife. It was a slow train that stopped at every town and village between Florence and Rome.

We in American like our heroes, and we especially like them to be bigger than life.

The employees at an international publishing house specializing in encyclopedias and world data were just as one would imagine—culturally diverse, well-educated, bookish, and respectful of others’ beliefs and social mores.

A surgical team quizzed me recently about my history of “difficult intubation,” a result of childhood arthritis.

As a seminarian, I spent four years helping out in a small parish that was not blessed with more than a handful of Sunday Mass lectors.

Recently I attended a political rally. I am not the rally-going type, but I decided I needed to take a stand.

One of the most important things Christ had done, Saint Paul wrote in the second chapter of his Letter to the Colossians, was to forgive sins.