If a poll were to be taken in North American churches concerning the causes of poverty, the results might be quite revealing.
Dorothy Day taught us what it means to be a Christian.
I always thought I would go to her funeral. I met her only twice, but no one affected me like she did. I was on the road when I heard, and it was too late to get to the service.
In the five months since the workers' uprising began in Poland, events there have been thick with irony.
The news cut into my Thanksgiving Day and left a sharp pang, reminding me of the continuing crisis that is El Salvador.