I realize there is a glove in each pocket, long forgotten and left behind from last winter.

Six months into his papacy, as Pope Leo’s activities have increased, so has the scrutiny observing his every move. We parse every word, every audience, every movement, and in so doing, we betray our fractured existence.

On Dec. 7, 1965, Pope Paul solemnly promulgated the Second Vatican Council’s Declaration on Religious Freedom, known by its Latin incipit (opening words) as Dignitatis Humanae. The Council thereby turbocharged the Catholic Church’s transformation into the world’s premier institutional defender of basic human rights.

Those of us still on earth can actively strive for a deeper sense of conversion and detachment from sin, but the souls in purgatory can no longer help themselves in this way and are dependent on our prayers and penances.

Sort, throw, save, give away. Make room for those things valued most. As I write these words, I see how they pertain both to the clutter and detritus of my material goods, but also to the clutter of my interior life, my soul.

I never did walk on water that summer long ago. But I learned that the true miracle is not defying gravity. It is allowing Christ to steady me when I sink, to calm the storms swirling around me and draw me into worship even in the midst of chaos. 

On the last Sunday of the liturgical year, Catholics celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. A relative newcomer to the church calendar — established in the 20th century — this feast is designed to give special recognition to the dominion Christ our Lord has over all aspects of our lives.

I love when I walk up for Communion, hold out my hands for the Eucharist, and the priest gives me a piece of the host that he has just consecrated.

The deterioration of our games is part and parcel of the deterioration of our culture. And as politics is downstream from culture, end-zone ridiculousness and similar self-aggrandizing debaucheries in other forms of entertainment have inevitably leaked into politics like a poison.

To be a just man or woman is to be a person who turns outward to other people seeing them as God sees them, which is of course with perfect and unwavering charity.