The Joys of Boys

“Your son,” a woman once told me after Mass, “is a bully.” “Really?” I asked, surprised by this characterization of my normally well-behaved (at least in church) sons. “Which one?” She told me that she had observed my three oldest boys, all altar servers, putting on their cassocks in the sacristy before Mass. The youngest … Read more

Fathers and Sons

Yes, I know there is a novel by Turgenev by the same title, but I’ve never read it, so I feel free to use the title. Do I speak for most sons when I say I will spend my whole life trying to understand my father?  My father, Jack W. Hudson, it seemed, was tougher … Read more

My Prickly Priest

“Fine, then!” Stephen huffed. He tossed a handful of Uno cards across the table and stomped toward the stairs. Each step thundered through the house as he made his way to his room.   I love this prickly child. But prickly he surely is.   I’d like to blame this one’s temper on his Irish … Read more

Breaking Vows: When Faithful Catholics Divorce

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” That’s how divorce starts for the Catholic couples I talked to: hard-core, confession-going, Humanae Vitae-believing Catholic couples. Couples who know exactly what marriage is supposed to be. One man I spoke with, now divorced, took Scott Hahn’s Christian marriage class with his theology-major fiancée. Another couple, now divorced, … Read more

Fathers and Sons

Losing Mum and Pup: A Memoir Christopher Buckley, Twelve, 272 pages, $24.99 And Noah, a farmer, planted a vineyard. He drank of the wine and became drunk and was uncovered in his tent. And Ham, the father of Cannan, saw his father uncovered and he denounced him to his two brothers outside. And Shen and … Read more

Silly Love Songs

“Cree-yate in meeeeee a cleeeen heart, Oh Gahhhhhd!” That’s the responsorial my parish sang every Sunday of Lent, until the events of Holy Week moved us to Passion. No “Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you!” for us. Too drastic a proposition for our music minister, I guess. Whether it suited the … Read more


Batman lives at my house. He’s about two-and-a-half feet tall with a tuft of blond-streaked, overgrown hair on his head. Besides the obligatory black rubber mask, he sports a red velvet cape that looks suspiciously like his older sister’s discarded Christmas dress, a pair of denim overalls, and — underneath it all — a diaper. … Read more

Item added to cart.
0 items - $0.00

Orthodox. Faithful. Free.

Signup to receive new Crisis articles daily

Email subscribe stack
Share to...