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Editor’s note: Natasha Huang’s article, below, came about as we met her and—as she explains below in fascinating fashion—she told us that she’d gone to Yale in order to figure out “how we got h
“What to Make of Donald Trump’s Soul?” was the title of the editorial in the May issue of Christianity Today.
In the spirit of our passion to explore life’s big questions, we’re launching a movies column.
When Frodo Baggins left the Shire for his epic quest to take the One Ring to Mordor and destroy it in the fire of Mount Doom, he took three friends with him and left one behind.
Arrival landed on the perfect weekend.
When sixteen-year-old Sumner arrived home from a summer working KP duty at a camp in the woods, he announced he was vegan. He said it like he meant it, like he was changing species.
Editor’s note: Tim’s article was so provocative to us and suggested so many follow-up questions (like, say: If the 90s purity movement was the wrong way to teach sex,
My fourteen-year-old daughter and I both have a flair for the dramatic, a tendency to overreact.
My husband and I are both foreigners who have found our way to Arlington, Massachusetts, a Boston suburb and mainly white town which we call “ambivalent”: it’s progressive while conservative.
I’m a psychiatrist who works with veterans suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Like many in my demographic (30-something white male), I’ve embraced an inclusive stance toward my LGBT friends.
The first Mother's Day after Andrew died, my friend Sandy presented me with a gift in the church parking lot: the book Bossypants by comedian Tina Fey.
Two darkened figures, perched on stools near the coffee urns, give two thumbs up.
I was 14 when I first heard about a famous pilgrimage route, the Camino de Santiago, from my Spanish teacher. He described the long walk to Santiago de Compostela, where they say St.
I got high the other day. On, okay, pizza.