It was 1995, and I had just arrived at St. John’s University in New York, fresh from a summer spent at a Hindu monastery. I was on a spiritual quest—a journey sparked, in part, by post-traumatic symptoms I had only just begun to name. Perhaps they were gifts in...
Before my ordination into the priesthood in the Episcopal Church, I had this powerful dream. In the dream, I was visiting Pope Francis. We met. He welcomed me. There was a sense of connection, of communion. Then he gave me—or instructed his assistant to give me—a...