It was the summer of 2002. My obsession with Middle Earth had been kicked into high gear by the release of the movie version of The Lord of the Rings, Fellowship of the Ring. And I was itching for a tattoo… I decided I wanted to pay homage to my “gang” number, which is 47. Just...

Just when New York City was beginning to feel a little small, even a bit predictable, a friend invited me to hear a talk at Kehila Kedosha Janina—the only Romaniote synagogue in the entire Western hemisphere. Greek American Dimitra DeFotis gave a riveting account of her travels and research to discover...

Toe-numbing temperature didn’t stop the line from snaking past the Guggenheim and spilling out onto the residential sidewalk of the Upper East Side.  It was Pay What You Wish Saturday.  We’d wait in the frigid January night for that rate.  It would give us the chance to meditate on the work of...

At the local carnival there was always some kid who freaked out and made the wiry man who manned the ride’s controls stop the rickety ride mid-spin.  I was that kid. I was the kid who refused to ride even the carousel because it made me dizzy.  By the time I reached my college years, I’d relegated...

Associations are revealing.  This morning, as I was drinking a cup of horrid office coffee, my brain leapt from the specific brand and flavor of coffee my mom drank when I was growing up to a seemingly unrelated bit of biographical information about a photographer I’d researched while working on a...

I’m working on a book that focuses on connecting the Church with the arts and artists. As it’s been forming, God has brought this question to my mind, “What if integrating the arts into the Church is more than just a nice idea? What if this integration is essential to the maturity of...

Pretty much anything that could go wrong with the live Church Hopping event to the Church of St. Anselm in the Bronx went wrong—and then God proved He’s in control of everything.  I figured God only gives you one miracle per day, and I wondered what would happen once we left St. Anselm’s for...

People hurt us. Misrepresent us. Abuse us. Sometimes we have an advocate. But many times we are left with wounds and painful memories. I considered this in the last piece “Spare the Son.” As writers and readers we participate in a ceaseless dialogue that can destroy, confuse or distract....

Late afternoon on the day before the second live Church Hopping event, I got an email.  The tour guide who was supposed to lead the architecture talk had suffered a heart attack.  He was alright, but he wouldn’t be able to lead the tour.  The person emailing me asked if I could lead it without...

photo (c) Stephanie Nikolopoulos I imagine that all New Yorkers have at least one story involving St. Patrick’s Cathedral, regardless of whether or not they’re Catholic.  I grew up just over the George Washington Bridge, in New Jersey, and the cathedral looms large in my relationship with, and understanding...