“The Raising Cane’s Problem isn’t about chicken—it’s about subtlety. In a world addicted to loudness, maybe Cane’s is a reminder of Psalm 46:10: ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’”

Rooted and Sent: Learning Our Identity and Mission from Vatican II explores how the four major constitutions of the Second Vatican Council — Sacrosanctum Concilium, Lumen Gentium, Dei Verbum, and Gaudium et Spes — shape the Church’s self-understanding and clarify every Catholic’s call to live and witness the Gospel in today’s world. This article makes the Council’s vision accessible and personal, showing how these documents draw us closer to Christ by grounding us in who we are and what we’re called to do.

There are conversations that drift. And then there are those that drill—down into mystery, into silence, into the ache beneath belief. This one began with a question: “If you were capable of obsession, which religious miracle would you obsess over and why?”

“Remembering the Memorial Acclamation” reflects on the once-beloved liturgical phrase “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” This article explores its history, removal from the Roman Missal, and its profound theological meaning — revealing how it unites past, present, and future through the virtues of love, faith, and hope.

One of the most haunting images during the COVID-19 pandemic was the “blackout map” — a grim graphic showing U.S. dioceses turning black as bishops suspended public Masses and lifted the Sunday obligation in the name of public health. Sunday after Sunday, the map darkened, and with it, the heartbeat of the Church’s public worship dimmed.

Like a mirage an old Pontiac slowly lurches forward, unsure if I too am a mirage in this booth.  The Pontiac comes to a halt.  The driver’s a woman, late thirties maybe. Sunglasses, lipstick, funeral-black dress. She rolls down the window and stares straight ahead. She doesn't speak.

I slide open the panel.

“Arm.”

She doesn’t argue. Just shifts in her seat as if rethinking every decision that led her here and slowly stretches out her arm through the window like it’s a toll ticket.

The Diviner hums. One drop of blood, and it begins.

Because what do you say after three years of writing about purity in a world that mocks it? What do you say after praying through the lives of thirty souls who bled, burned, wept, and waited—just to remain faithful?

You say thank you.

The last scene is written. The final cue is marked.
The Cross has been lifted—and I am undone.