On Feb. 15, Israel’s Cabinet approved a measure that would allow the state to exert more control over the occupied West Bank. The measure makes it easier for settlers to occupy Palestinian territory.
Last spring, I traveled to Sebastia, an ancient Palestinian village outside Nablus in the occupied Palestinian West Bank. It is among the oldest continuously inhabited places in the region. Beginning over 5,000 years ago during the second Iron Age, the residents of Sebastia have lived through the ancient Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman eras. Sebastia is home to significant religious sites for Muslims, Jews, and Christians, including a Byzantine church and mosque said to be the burial site of St. John the Baptist, also known as the Prophet Yahya.
Whatever you may have heard about the Target boycott ending, here’s the truth: The boycott is not over for many Black women. It probably never will be.
A year ago, Black women started the movement to boycott the retail giant after it made a U-turn on its numerous commitments to racial equity—and particularly the Black community. That movement took various forms: Ohio state Sen. Nina Turner called for a national boycott, as did grassroots activists in Minneapolis, where Target is based. Rev. Jamal Harrison Bryant of Atlanta’s New Birth Missionary Baptist Church also launched a 40-day “Target fast” that stretched into nearly 400.
The boycott played a key role in a year of declining sales and profits that forced CEO Brian Cornell to step down. Target’s stock price dropped about 30 percent in 2025.
Maranatha Church, Jasmine Ministries, and Creole Resources have served the Haitian population in Spokane, Wa., for years—most recently by creating job and housing opportunities made scarce to them due to social and legal barriers created by the Trump administration.
Only a month ago, many Haitians in Spokane nearly saw the end of their Temporary Protected Status, leaving them with the choice to return to Haiti or find a new way to achieve legal status in the U.S.
Even though a federal judge barred the expiration from taking effect, public uncertainty about the longevity of their TPS has made it hard for Haitians in the U.S. to do things like rent an apartment or apply for jobs.
Pope Leo XIV, the first U.S.-born pope, issued an urgent call for a ceasefire in the U.S. and Israeli war with Iran during prayers before tens of thousands gathered on St Peter’s Square in Rome on Sunday.
“In the name of the Christians of the Middle East and of all women and men of goodwill: Cease the fire! Let paths of dialogue be reopened,” the pontiff was quoted as saying by the Vatican’s news website.
In January, Ryan Coogler’s Sinners made history in becoming the Oscars’ all time most-nominated film with 16 total nominations, resurfacing discourse on the film’s many merits: a deep storyline filled with layers of meaning, stellar cinematography and acting, and a breathtaking soundtrack and score. What is truly unique about this movie, however, is how it criticizes Christianity from an anti-imperialist perspective. Sinners displays the importance of resisting the false religious binaries of sacred and demonic that victims of imperialism have had forced upon them for far too long.
John Perkins, a pioneering Civil Rights activist and Baptist leader who devoted his life to racial reconciliation and justice, died on Friday. He was 95.
“I have a purpose. If you think that it’s some kind of blessing, it’s not,” says Timothée Chalamet’s Marty Mauser in Marty Supreme. “It means I have an obligation to see a very specific thing through.”
That very specific thing, for Marty, is the nearly impossible task of somehow pulling enough money out of thin air to pay his debts and fund his trip to compete in a ping-pong championship taking place in Japan. Ironically, Marty Supreme features very little actual ping pong. The majority of the movie is about one particularly audacious young man going to often comically absurd (and morally dubious) lengths to “achieve his dreams,” and more specifically, to somehow acquire the money to fund those dreams.
As for-profit technology platforms grow, they increasingly transform into representations of what Catholic theologian, philosopher, and critic Ivan Illich referred to as “radical monopolies”—an inescapable infrastructure that dominates every aspect of social organization.
Up against the machinations of platform capitalism, people are conditioned to embrace the faulty idea that their intrinsic value comes from how well they can meld into the profit margins of corporate algorithms operated by the likes of Meta, X, Reddit, and others. Brandon Rickabaugh, writing for the Center for Christianity and Public Life, describes this process of melding as “[t]he liturgy of mechanization, of depersonalization,” where demand for scalability and monetization online outweighs the practice of virtues like patience and generosity.
Queer liberation theology has largely been ignored in many Catholic circles. It’s often treated as something external to the church, disconnected from Catholic history, or framed as a political identity that is incompatible with one’s identity in Christ. This has a lot to do with the Catholic voices that are deemed trustworthy and authoritative (especially on social media). Today, these voices dictate what questions we’re allowed to ask, and which sexual experiences are considered theologically orthodox (hint: the straight ones).
But as I recently wrote for National Catholic Reporter, queer liberation theology can help the Catholic church remember itself, recovering a tradition of radical solidarity that transcends our culture wars.
How do we hold space for joy amid unspeakable suffering around the globe?
I often feel guilty about the privileges I have in life: the ability to go out to eat occasionally, travel, or spend lazy weekends watching movies while other people are starving, living without homes, or facing unimaginable violence.