With his shaved head, goatee and sturdy frame, he looked more like a hit man than a seminarian. But he had that cool, serene presence of a Jedi, a believer who found soulful sanctuary in a religion that had called him to his life's work. I'd known him in New York, and it was by coincidence that we both wound up living in St Louis. Despite my reluctance to fully embrace any form of organized religion -- a fact for which he allowed generous understanding without condescension -- he facilitated for me a kind of guidance; he was the person on whom I could dump all of my wayward spiritual questions. Or, if nothing else, he'd supply me with optimism when my faith in humanity... More >>>