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Economically, it seems like we have walked to the edge of the Grand Canyon and peered over and watched pebbles fall noiselessly to the bottom. And all we can do is clutch a nearby railing and feel the tug of vertigo and mouth a terrified: “Holy crap.” Or words to that effect. The inconvenient truth…

It’s another spectacular September morning in New York City. And I can’t think of a better way to start the day than with this song of praise. Morning, all.

…but first, a little compline, courtesy The Anchoress. By this time, in a monastery, the Great Silence has commenced. A few retreatants may be in the guest house dining room, one solitary light flickering, as they pour another cup of decaf from the bottomless pot and whisper confidences or share impressions and wonder aloud if…

What could be better on a Monday morning than prayer with The Anchoress? Give a listen to her lovely new podcast feature right here. My humble contribution to the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows can be found here. And Sunday’s homily focused on the feast as well.
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