Heel and heal

A brief homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 10, 2026

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17, 1 Peter 3:15-18, John 14:15-21

Important stuff first:

  • Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers, grandmothers, godmothers, and everyone who cares for people the way a mother does. I send you joy and deepest thanks, especially as I miss my long-deceased mom. 
  • Congratulations to the youngsters in our parish and all over the world who received their First Holy Communion this weekend, and throughout the Easter season. May you always feel the love of God at the center of your lives.

• • •

The other day, I heard a promo for an NPR program whose host intended to detail how having strict limits or rules or other constraints can actually enhance creativity.

She pointed to the story about how Dr. Seuss bet publisher Bennett Cerf $50 that he could write a book using a vocabulary of only 50 words. And we all came to like Sam I Am, even if we may disagree about “Green Eggs and Ham.” The meal, not the book.

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Service

A homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 3, 2026

Acts 6:1-7, 1 Peter 2:4-9, John 14:1-12

In early June 1973, barely 12 hours after flinging a mortarboard into the air on the lawn at CBA, I was about to wade into a newly dumped pile of steaming asphalt.

“All right, men, let’s git it!” Joe Romeo, the foreman, hollered, and we attacked the hot asphalt with our short-handled square-point shovels.

Within minutes, my new white T-shirt was transparent with sweat and my even newer Sears blue jeans were sliding down my skinny backside. I didn’t notice if my feet were hot in my boots as I danced through the blacktop, pretty much making a mess.

Then I felt a powerful hand yank me by my belt loops and toss me off the pile. “Get outta there,” Romeo growled. I snapped back, “What’s your problem, man? I’m working my ass off!”

He then said the words that shaped the rest of my life:

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Patience

A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, April 26, 2026

Acts 2:14a, 36-41, 1 Peter 2:20b-25, John 10:1-10

About 15 years ago, our front lawn was green and lush. For about three weeks. A legitimate showpiece, just begging for us to walk barefoot and let the silky blades tickle our toes. Woohoo! We even sorta-kinda played badminton, until we lost all the birdies.

In the 23 years before that, and in the 15 years since, our postage-stamp-size patch of earth has looked more like the fur on a dog with mange.

So this year, I hired someone to rip out the crabgrass, sprinkle some topsoil and starter fertilizer, and scatter some grass seed. In March. After the snow, but only shortly afterward. Yeah, with all that crazy weather.

Even so, I watered it faithfully according to the landscaper’s instructions.

Ya know that cliché about how boring it is to watch grass grow? It’s even more boring to watch grass not grow.

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Visine

A homily for the Third Sunday of Easter, April 19, 2026

Acts 2:14, 22-33, 1 Peter 1:17-21, Luke 24:13-35

Let’s start with my edited version of some familiar song lyrics:

On a clear day
Rise and look around you
On a clear day
How it will astound you
You can hear from far and near
A world you’ve never, never heard before
And on a clear day
On that clear day
You can see forever
And ever
And ever
And ever more

For those among us with an unimpeded sense of sight, merely having our eyes open means being flooded with images. With light. With shapes begging to be recognized.

And to fully appreciate what God’s Creation is showering us with, we need to participate, to think, to analyze and catalog the darks and lights and rainbows and sharp edges and soft curves that are pouring into our brains through our baby blues.

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Ism

A homily for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 12, 2026

Acts 2:42-47, 1 Peter 1:3-9, John 20:19-31

Tattoos, T-shirts and trucks have become billboards for our thoughts and feelings, especially our social or political leanings. And, by logical extension, for our spiritual or religious or ethical beliefs.

But there’s not a lot of nuance in inked insights, in silk-screened slogans, or in bumper stickers telling the world where to stick it. Stick-figure images of the Remington and AR and Glock and Kalashnikov families could not be further from subtle.

Yes, we live in a broad-brush-label-’em world. Some of us have devolved into “if you’re not with us, you’re against us.” And that slippery slope leads to “if you’re against us, we have to shun you, or troll you, or worse.” Heaven knows, there’s a lot of “worse” to be found.

But there’s far, far more “better” out there, and it’s closer than we think.

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Leaps and bounds

A homily for The Resurrection of the Lord, Easter Sunday, April 5, 2026, at the Mass of Easter Day

Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Colossians 3:1-4, John 20:1-9

On May 24, 1989, the finest movie in the franchise, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,” hit the big screen. Its pre-Memorial Day release guaranteed that the flick would be a summer blockbuster and, like the other “Indiana Jones” films, would become part of pop culture.

(We can debate this installment’s rank in the canon later, though I’m right about this.)

Near the climax of the movie, Indy must cross a seemingly impassable, staggeringly wide chasm to find the Holy Grail and save his father’s life. It’s the last of several life-threatening obstacles protecting the Grail. It’s The Leap of Faith.

By taking that leap, Henry Jones Jr. finds a solid path to his goal, much to his amazement.

Every year, Easter challenges us to take a leap of faith and renew our belief in the Resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ through the divine power of God.

By taking that leap this year, as we have in years past, all of us believers will again find a solid path to our goals. God willing, we’ll continue to be amazed.

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Merci for mercy

A homily for Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion, March 29, 2026

Matthew 21:1-11, Isaiah 50:4-7, Philippians 2:6-11, Matthew 26:14—27:66

I’m spoiled. Not rotten, as far as I’ve ever been able to determine (though some people may disagree). But definitely spoiled. So is my wife, my children and daughter-in-law, my brothers and sisters-in-law, and our cats.

Our parents spoiled us, and we, in turn, spoiled the ensuing generations.

Yeah, we have it pretty good.

Our parents and we did it out of love, and because we as children and our children in turn appreciated what went into the spoiling — the time shared, the places visited, the money spent, the sacrifices made — none of us turned out all that rotten.

Yes, it all came down, it all comes down to appreciating what we’ve been given abundantly.

To gratitude. To saying thanks. Often. Sincerely.

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AI or JC?

A homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, March 22, 2026

Ezekiel 37:12-14, Romans 8:8-11, John 11:1-45

Val Kilmer, who died a year ago, is co-starring in a new movie now being shot. The film’s producers aren’t using footage of Kilmer they had from before he died. No, the scenes with Kilmer will be new, generated by artificial intelligence, with the approval of Kilmer’s estate.

For almost 50 years, video games have offered players the option, the purported ability, to play with a string of lives. If a ghost gobbles up Pac-Man, then reset, start again. New life. Even the most sophisticated, intricately detailed first-person games today have a reset button, a rebirth option.

If the game is essentially rigged so that nobody ever really dies, if popular and political culture gives everyone second and third and infinite next chances, is resurrection that big a deal?

If Jesus of Nazareth were to revive a public official’s child today, let alone coax his dead friend Lazarus out of the tomb after a long weekend of decomposing, would we be amazed?

After all, CGI and AI and deepfakes and broadband and Xbox, right?

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Beeswax

A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent — Laetare Sunday, March 15, 2026

1 Samuel 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a, Ephesians 5:8-14, John 9:1-41

This may end up being more cliché than creative, more borrowed than original, but it’s nonetheless heartfelt and sincere. 

Let’s consider candles for a moment.

Candles come in all shapes and sizes, from tea lights and tapers to Muppet heads and madonnas. Some are designed to light a room; others, to infuse a scent.

The wicks-in-wax we know as candles have been traced back 2,500 years, and their forebears go back another 2,500.

As this winter winds down (don’t jinx it, Bill!), we remember stocking up on candles and flashlights in case the storms knocked out power. Even after 5,000 years, we rely on candles as our No. 1 source of emergency illumination. So that we don’t curse the dark.

As long as we don’t burn down the house.

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Expectations

A homily for the Third Sunday of Lent, March 8, 2026

Exodus 17:3-7, Romans 5:1-2, 5-8, John 4:5-42

In the second episode of their second season a half-century ago, the highly irreverent British comedy troupe Monty Python carved a phrase into popular culture forever:

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”

The rest of their loony sketch was loaded with other unexpected ideas and items.

A Google search on “expect the unexpected” turns up a who’s who of people known for adopting some variation of the phrase as their personal mantras. There’s a millennia-old history of wisdom in being prepared for anything, even the unknown unknowns.

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