The internet may be a gift from God,
As the Pope says, a utility
We can manipulate but not see,
Neither tangible nor abstract, an odd
Reality we can demonstrate
But not touch, invisible as space
But informing all around us. Like grace?
Something we use but never really understand.
At meetings now, before our working day begins,
We sit with our heads bowed and stare,
Backlit breviaries in hand,
Rocking in a pantomime of prayer.
—Patrick Duddy
Disney Adulting (ft. Veronica Clarke)
In this episode, Veronica Clarke joins Germán and Virginia (who are subbing in for R. R. Reno)…
Tennyson’s Poetic Faith
Richard Holmes’s new biography, The Boundless Deep, depicts how Alfred Lord Tennyson absorbed the scientific discoveries of…
Letters—June/July 2026
The sentimental images painted of proud, tight-knit communities slowly crumbling away are compelling, but I have to…