The tourists traipse; the sights go by, a blur
of cramped and cobbled streets where faux cafés
and sellers of souvenirs administer
the sacraments of our despairing days.
Four-hundred-year-old churches punctuate
limp sentences of shops that line the ways.
The remnants of the Faith still fascinate,
and sunlight breaks through hedonism’s haze.
We enter in, my bride and I: we find
the windows in a multi-color blaze;
the altar soars before; pipes loom behind.
Outside the world winds down its final phase.
But pendant in the sanctuary’s air,
the God we crucified calls us to prayer.
Will Trump’s Coalition Last? (ft. Joseph Prud’homme)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, Joseph Prud’homme joins…
War Without Limits?
Does the U.S.-Israel assault on Iran fill the criteria of Christian just war theory? A number of…
The Case for Christian Nationalism
Recent polling paints a disturbing picture: Fewer than half of Gen-Z Americans are extremely or very proud…