A homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 27, 2024
Jer 31:7-9, Heb 5:1-6, Mk 10:46-52
One of the cultural touchstones that “Seinfeld” wove into America’s consciousness was “Serenity Now.”
George Costanza’s father, Frank, is told by a supposedly inspirational tape to say “serenity now” every time he gets angry as a possible way to keep his blood pressure down. And Frank barks the phrase often, loudly and angrily.
“Serenity Now!”
“Now” being the operative word.
A (belated) homily for the Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 20, 2024
Is 53:10-11, Heb 4:14-16, Mk 10:35-45 or 10:42-45
Twelve hours after I saw my Christian Brothers Academy mortarboard soar into the evening sky (against the orders of the assistant principal my classmates and I detested), I was standing in a pile of newly dumped asphalt, with a foreman hollering, “Let’s git it!”
In other words, shovel the smoking hot blacktop onto the end of a driveway that had been chopped up to widen a neighborhood street in Oceanport, New Jersey.
Within minutes on that June morning in 1973, I had sweated through my white T-shirt, and my new blue jeans were starting to droop near my butt crack.
A (somewhat brief) homily for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 6, 2024
Gn 2:18-24, Heb 2:9-11, Mk 10:2-16 or 10:2-12
These days, when it comes to weddings, I’m either the presiding minister-slash-official witness or I’m sitting at the far corner of the reception with the other haddas.
You know, the old people the young couple “hadda invite” to make their parents or — yikes! — grandparents happy.
Either way, though, I think weddings are fun, especially destination weddings with quirky themes and receptions that include alligator wranglers, such as the one Andrea and I are about to attend in New Orleans next Sunday.
Oh, by the way, it’s our son’s.
