On a midsummer’s morning, a close friend and I met for coffee. Anne is married, retired, and the mother of four and grandmother of several. Although we talk often by phone, nearly two years had passed since we’d last seen each other, and we’d both, well, softened with age.

For a while, we sipped our coffee and talked of family, faith, and books. Then Anne began describing an article on men she’d read by Peter Boghossian, a philosopher I knew only by name. I remember little from our conversation, but her concluding statement floored me: “I think women basically want a man to worship them.”

For a few long moments, I mulled over this bold assertion, then replied, “Well, I think men want a woman to worship.”

We both laughed a bit. We sounded more like two Victorians than a male and female l

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