DiaBLOGue

Sorrow and Song

That morning you came to me 
I saw the lamp arising in your beard, 
a flash of solder and fire 
wisping in your robes and hair 

Miracle

Lucille Wentworth sat in her working on her cross-stitch, watching Judy and Ray hold hands, sitting across from her on the couch. It was late, past one; they’d talked for hours, the conversation flowing around…

’Atta Boy

Latham Runyon wondered what time he ought to close his window. It was going to be a tongue-hanger today. But for now, the morning was still dewy and bearable.  He pulled his half-glasses up to…

Religion and Natasha McDonald

I AM NATASHA MCDONALD. THIS IS MY MOM AND DAD. I HAVE CEREBRAL PALSY. I THINK AND FEEL LIKE YOU DO BUT THE PART OF MY BRAIN THAT CONTROLS MY PHYSICAL SELF WAS DAMAGED WHEN…

The Making of Grave Community Sin

Few articles published in Dialogue disturbed my intellectual comfort as Dr. Bradley Walker’s three-part series on the deplorable condition of Latin American Saints.[1] For some three decades, I lived off and on in Third World…

The Psalms

The Psalms were prayed by David and Solomon, Isaiah and Jeremiah, Jesus, Matthew and Paul, Jerome and Augustine, Ibn Ezra and Rashi, Aquinas, Luther and Calvin, and Martin Luther King and Mother Teresa—in short, by…

Letters to the Editor

Gary James Bergera, Signature Books Defended
Robert Garrett, Hamblin Ad Hominem?
James L. Rasmussen, Erotic Literature and the Lord
Stephen Lamb, Sexual Morality Revisited