A homily for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 1, 2023
Ez 18:25-28, Phil 2:1-11, Mt 21:28-32
There’s a TV commercial for a company that makes promotional items, the “for certain” people, and in it a woman driving a car filled with tchotchkes for a client is taken on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride over hill and dale and rail and through a cornfield until she comes face-to-face with a Holstein cow. The sadly mistaken GPS tells her she’s arrived at her destination.
Uh, not quite.
A homily for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 24, 2023
Is 55:6-9, Phil 1:20c-24, 27a, Mt 20:1-16a
You’ve probably heard a rumor that I enjoy an occasional cup of coffee every now and then. I’d like to set the record straight.
I drink many cups of coffee almost constantly, and I’ve done so for decades.
In fact, I even subscribe to a service that sends me enough recyclable and compostable pods to make 90 cups a month. Which I supplement with, yes, trips to Wawa, where they know my face if not my name.
A homily for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 17, 2023
Sir 27:30—28:7, Rom 14:7-9, Mt 18:21-35
When angry, count four. When very angry, swear.
Mark Twain
We all get angry; it’s a basic human emotion. For some of us, anger is one of the most powerful emotions, if not the most overwhelming. Anger’s power makes it difficult to contain or cool down from. When anger overwhelms us, it provokes action.
A homily for the Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 10, 2023
Ez 33:7-9, Rom 13:8-10, Mt 18:15-20
When I was in my late teens and early 20s, in the last quarter of the 20th century, I was a high-paid babysitter, maybe the highest-paid in New Jersey. It had little to do with me or some spectacular talent I may have had, and pretty much everything to do with my clientele.
I looked after the children of many one-percenters who knew the family whose name was on the side of the trucks of the construction company I worked for during my college summer breaks. Whose owner was one of my dad’s best friends. Thus, I was vouched for. And to them, I was William. Never Bill or Billy or Will or Willy.
Wow, that was a long trip for a setup. I hope that made sense.
A homily for the Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 3, 2023
Jer 20:7-9, Rom 12:1-2, Mt 16:21-27
What if maybe, just maybe, Linus was right?
What if, even just once, Linus Van Pelt’s pumpkin patch was the most sincere in the whole world?
What if everything the “Peanuts” character believed about The Great Pumpkin was not a cockamamie fairy tale?
Would the kids have stopped laughing? Would the adults have stopped making the muted cornet “waa-waa” sounds?
Would everyone everywhere have started to believe?
