If I didn’t have my husband to remind me, I would forget to change the car oil until the engine came to a grinding halt in the middle of the interstate.

“I’m no saint.” We hear people say this all the time, and what they mean is, "I’ve made mistakes.” Congratulations! You have taken the first step to sainthood.

When the iconic Notre-Dame Cathedral burned in 2019, some argued that the money to rebuild it would be better spent by the Church on providing services to the poor.

In writing this column, I spent a lot of time mulling over a strange question: if I had a coin with Caesar’s face on it, could I use it to pay for my morning coffee?

I’m sure many of you know the feeling of sweating over a hot stove for an hour to create a dish that a small, picky eater will push away, lips curled with disgust.

I’ve always thought the Parable of the Tenants could be a storyline on one of those “world’s dumbest criminals” shows. It’s easy to dismiss the tenants as paranoid.

I wonder what was so important. The man gave both his sons the same order: go out and work in the vineyard today. One son said yes, and yet one son refused.

Sometimes, the Gospel takes everything you think you know about Jesus, throws it in a box, dumps it on the floor, looks you in the eye and says: “Clean it up.”