If the two disciples of Emmaus recognize Jesus when He breaks the bread for them, we too should recognize Him in this way. Not just in the Eucharist, but wherever there is a life that becomes broken bread, wherever someone makes a compassionate gift of themselves, like He did. With the grace of the Risen Christ, we can become this broken bread that transforms reality. #GospelOfTheDay (Lk 24:13–35) #ApostolicJourney #Angola
Both of his arms were on the ground in front of him.
The agents could see both of his hands, and he never went for a weapon, even while they were kicking his ass.
The administration is lying to you. They want you to believe them over your eyes.
Okay so,
1) an American citizen exercises his First Amendment right to peaceably assemble and his Second Amendment right to bear arms, out of apparent concern that a tyrannical federal government is violating basic protections afforded under the Constitution
2) after coming to the aid of an unarmed woman who's been shoved to the ground by a masked federal agent, the citizen -- impaired by pepper spray, holding nothing but a cell phone -- is dragged to the ground by a group of other masked agents
3) during the scuffle, shortly after one masked agent removes the weapon from the restrained citizen's person, several other masked agents open fire, unloading 10 shots from close range and killing the unarmed citizen
4) despite video evidence, a spokesman for the federal government says the citizen approached agents with a gun, provoked a violent confrontation, and planned to "massacre" law enforcement
You really want to defend this? Go ahead. Just know, you look like an absolute fool.
.@BishopSeitz at downtown El Paso Courthouse: “I make an urgent plea today that the government and immigration enforcement pull back from the edge and respect the sanctity of every human life, the constitutional and civil rights guaranteed to all in this country, to cease actions that degrade the moral and public order, and take action to address the impunity and lack of accountability we are witnessing in the indiscriminate enforcement taking place every day. “
This new millisecond-by-millisecond video analysis with newly cleaned up footage leaves zero doubt that the “crunch sound” on Ross’s video was his phone in his hand slapping the car hood as Good tried to leave. This debate is over.
https://t.co/jZGsFq2F2C
Did Renee Nicole Good “hit ICE officer Jonathan Ross with her car”?
MAGA: “YES. ABSOLUTELY. CASE-CLOSED. THE END.”
Everyone else: “Absolutely NOT. And the case was never even open.”
This man goes frame-by-frame to definitively settle this.
Please watch and share.
@Joeinblack Like the priests in my parish, you show us the love of God in all you do for us. Know that your faithful service does not go unnoticed. It is APPRECIATED! God bless you!
Friends-
This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die.
Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do.
I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, “Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.” Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all.
Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are. During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have. Seven months ago, Corrie was commissioned into the Air Force and she’s off at instrument and multi-engine rounds of flight school. Last week, Alex kicked butt graduating from college a semester early even while teaching gen chem, organic, and physics (she’s a freak). This summer, 14-year-old Breck started learning to drive. (Okay, we’ve been driving off-book for six years — but now we’ve got paper to make it street-legal.) I couldn’t be more grateful to constantly get to bear-hug this motley crew of sinners and saints.
There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst. As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come.
Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in). Nope — often we lazily say “hope” when what we mean is “optimism.” To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son.
A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears.
Such is the calling of the pilgrim. Those who know ourselves to need a Physician should dang well look forward to enduring beauty and eventual fulfillment. That is, we hope in a real Deliverer — a rescuing God, born at a real time, in a real place. But the eternal city — with foundations and without cancer — is not yet.
Remembering Isaiah’s prophecies of what’s to come doesn’t dull the pain of current sufferings. But it does put it in eternity’s perspective:
“When we've been there 10,000 years…We've no less days to sing God's praise.”
I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more. Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape.
But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….For to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9).
With great gratitude, and with gravelly-but-hopeful voices,
Ben — and the Sasses
Wise words
“My name’s Frank. I’m 64, a retired electrician.
Forty-two years I spent running wires through houses, fixing breakers, making sure people had light in their kitchens and heat in their winters. Never once did anyone ask me where I went to college. Mostly, they just wanted to know if I could get the power back on before their ice cream melted.
Last May, I was at my granddaughter Emily’s school career day. You know the drill — doctors, lawyers, a software guy in a slick suit talking about “scaling startups.” I was the only one there with a tool belt and work boots.
When it was my turn, I told the kids, “I don’t have a degree. I’ve never sat in a lecture hall. But I’ve wired schools, hospitals, and your principal’s house. And when the hospital generator failed during a snowstorm in ’98, I was the one in the basement with a flashlight, keeping the lights on for newborn babies upstairs.”
The kids leaned forward. They had questions — real ones. “How do you fix stuff in the dark?” “Do you make a lot of money?” “Do you ever get zapped?” (Yes, once, and it’ll curl your hair.)
When the bell rang, one boy hung back. Small kid, freckles, hoodie too big for him. He mumbled, “My uncle’s a plumber. People laugh at him ’cause he didn’t finish high school. But… he’s the only one in the family who can fix anything.”
I looked that boy in the eye and said, “Kid, your uncle’s a hero. When your toilet overflows at midnight, Harvard ain’t sending anyone. A plumber is.”
Here’s the thing nobody told me when I was young — the world doesn’t run without tradespeople. You can have all the engineers you want, but if nobody builds the house, wires the power, or lays the pipes, those blueprints just sit in a drawer.
We’ve made it sound like trades are what you do if you can’t go to college, instead of a path you choose because you like working with your hands, solving problems, and seeing your work stand solid for decades.
Four years after high school, some kids walk away with diplomas. Others walk away with zero debt, a union card, and a skill they can take anywhere in the world. And guess what? When your furnace dies in January, it’s not the diploma that saves you.
A few weeks ago, that same freckled kid’s mom stopped me at the grocery store. She said, “You probably don’t remember, but you told my son trades are important. He’s shadowing his uncle this summer. First time I’ve seen him excited about anything in years.”
That’s the part we forget — for some kids, knowing their path is respected changes everything. It’s not about “just” fixing wires or pipes. It’s about pride. Purpose. The kind that sticks with you long after the job’s done.
So next time you meet a teenager, don’t just ask, “Where are you going to college?” Ask, “What’s your plan?” And if they say, “I’m learning to weld,” or “I’m starting an apprenticeship,” smile big and say, “That’s fantastic. We’re going to need you.”
Because we will. More than ever. And when the lights go out, you’ll be glad they showed up.”
Dr. Naftali Kaminski is stepping down as @YalePCCSM section chief in 2026.
Under his leadership, clinical programs, research funding & educational programs have expanded substantially in size, scope & impact.
Learn more about @KaminskiMed & his tenure.
https://t.co/8xm6V2uS6B
I realize that I am just a general contractor. Not a big city developer who has never brought in a project on budget and many of his projects have gone bankrupt. But here is what I know.
Never in the history of any public works project has any legitimate contractor neglected to deal with the National Registry of Historic Properties before demolishing a property. Never in the history of such projects has any contractor not submitted, plans, for permits and approvals. Never in recent history has any project like this not been cleared through environmental agencies who would make sure that asbestos and lead were not in a very old building. Finally, it is unbelievable that in less than a week he has literally doubled the budget for the project.
And since contractors have to be licensed who is the contractor?
This is egregious. This man needs to be reminded that he is one year into a four year lease and he did not even consult the building owners before he destroyed history.
Been thinking about this quote while reading some of the reactions to Pope Leo XIV's apostolic exhortation "Dilexi te." It's from Servant of God Dom Hélder Câmara, who served as Archbishop of Olinda and Recife, in Brazil.
Pope Leo teared up today as he watched this video and read letters of Catholic migrants being abused by the Trump Administration.
He then pledged to them to stand up against Trump’s raids: “The Church cannot stay silent before injustice. You stand with me. And I stand with you.”