A Prophet Among Bishops

The autumn sky above the old shot-and-beer city was a deep and endless blue. Woodsmoke hung in the air and small boats chugged out purposeful routes on waterways. The Ravens are playoff-bound, and the youth-strapped Orioles made it to the postseason again. All was right on Baltimore’s harbor Wednesday—perfect even—as joggers politely zig-zagged through the 200 or so folks who’d gathered to pray the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary alongside the world’s loneliest bishop.

Sunlight poured onto the ...