Although I know that very few people will be able to read it, I thought I’d post this article of mine on the gift of children with Down syndrome, which has just been translated and published by a pro-life website in Romania:
I am quoted in an article published today by Aleteia on the Sheen Center for Faith and Culture in New York City, which staged my play Death Comes for the War Poets last year. It’s gratifying to see this worthy cultural and evangelical initiative getting the attention it deserves:
The National Catholic Register has just published my mild disagreement with George Weigel on approaches to Catholic education:
An interview on my most recent book that I did originally with Catholic World Report has just been republished by the Imaginative Conservative:
Who are the Celts? In an article of mine just published by Faith & Culture I muse upon the forty shades of green which constitute the Celtic enigma:
The National Catholic Register has just published my musings on Chesterton’s musings on the meaning of progress.
A writer friend wrote me: “Never have I had such a compulsion to speak—shout, even. Yet, never have I been so utterly mute, prostrate with grief. I want to scream, but there is nothing I can say.”
Though I’m not a blogger, as she is, burdened by an expectation from her readers to say something in the face of this most horrific scandal, I do know how she feels. I think her muteness is due to her very real faith. She has devoted her life and her considerable talent to Holy Mother Church. Yet, now it seems she is silenced. Not the silence of Pope Francis, who says he will be silent in the face of “… those who lack good will…with those who seek division…who seek destruction….” That isn’t silence. That is accusation. And not the silence of the many bishops and those in the Vatican; that’s the tiresome stone-walling we’ve come to know and not love.
Catholics who love the Church have an instinct to rise up and defend her when she is under attack. Alas, the attackers are in the Church. This is not an enemy outside the gates, but within.
And so, perhaps it is a time not for defense, but for stillness, and for silence. When I was a child, I lived with my faith-filled Primitive Baptist grandmother and her youngest children, Edna and Glenys. Whenever we children might be noisy, playing, squabbling, and a thunderstorm would come up, she would make us stop, sit still and be silent. I can’t name it, but I know it. It’s that kind of silence I’m talking about.
The death last week of my good friend, Mitchell Kalpakgian, came as a shock. Here’s my tribute to this fine scholar of literature:
What does the protagonist of a Greek epic, written more than two and a half millennia ago, have to say to those of us doomed to live in the twenty-first century? Read on: