I was intrigued that you would want to know about our religious experiences. During my four years there, I remember Columbia University feeling like the most God-forsaken patch of pagan indifference on the planet. Perhaps I exaggerate.

At some point I remember reading Thomas Merton's "Seven Storey Mountain." I was deeply moved that anyone could find God at Columbia. I had the feeling he was, too.

In my second year, I remember sitting in class one day for Contemporary Civilization. Our professor--I cannot remember her name--was trying to convince us that Freud, Marx and Nietzsche were the greatest men the world has ever known. (She did actually say they were...) She was trying to explain how they freed us from the superstition of believing in the spirit world. The human body and the human brain is all we have, bequeathed to us by the fortunate accidents of evolution, etc. I interrupted her and said, "But what about the human soul? I am not just a body. I am flesh and blood, but I am also spirit." She looked around the class and went to the board to write my opinion there for everyone to see. She asked the class, "Does anyone agree with this?" Nobody raised their hand.

Oddly enough, an organization called Opus Dei had activities near campus in a student residence called Schuylar Hall, I lived there from 1972 to 1974. I say odd because, thanks to Dan Brown, Opus Dei has become a watchword for those suspecting the Vatican of a momumental cover up. I found the people who were running the residence to be both cheerful and understanding--and at the same time impressive wholly committed to their faith.

I am now a priest belonging to Opus Dei. In those days, I was not thinking about being a priest. I studied Chemical Engineering and finished in 1976. I am eternally grateful to Opus Dei for having led me to discover my true calling in life. Having been a priest in New York City for about 10 years, I am now a chaplain at a boys school in Nairobi, Kenya.

Perhaps I should conclude by saying this: I loved being a student at Columbia. It was a great place to study. And God, in his own mysterious way, made my years there a time of discovering his plans for this world and the next. You probably would never suspect it, but I know of several others--students in those years--who had a similar experience, finding God, finding faith. When I come across the title to Einstein's biography, "Subtle Is the Lord," it reminds me of that experience at Columbia.

With the passing of years, the extremes of good and evil are ever more pronounced and yet, paradoxically, more difficult to distinguish.