In the autumn of 1989, or maybe 1990, I was looking for a Halloween costume. I had it in my head to costume as a cleric for some reason. I was nominally Christian, and curious about Roman Catholicism, but not religious in any real sense. I decided to go to a rectory at an older inner city parish, to see if they had any old cassocks they weren’t using. Maybe they’ll sell me one.
The old man who received me at the rectory door might have been a priest. He wasn’t dressed as one, but I assume he was one. He …read more
Source: The American Conservative