A homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 18, 2026
Isaiah 49:3, 5-6, 1 Corinthians 1:1-3, John 1:29-34
It.
In the entertainment business notably, but in almost every endeavor, some people have It.
“It” is the essentially undefinable but immediately recognizable quality that makes certain people stand out in a crowd, almost as if they have permanent spotlights bathing them.
In other words, we know It when we see It.
A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 28, 2025
Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14, Colossians 3:12-17, Mt 2:13-15, 19-23
When we were little, we were told, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names — or words — will never hurt me.” And as well-meaning as the saying was, we all know it was wrong, because names and words have power.
Our feast today in this Season of Christmas, the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, involves some incredibly powerful names and words, so let’s take a minute or two to think about them. And how they guide our lives.
A homily for The Resurrection of the Lord (Easter), April 20, 2025
Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Colossians 3:1-4, John 20:1-9
Sometimes, I just don’t get it.
Every now and then, there are things I “should” understand, but don’t.
Every now and then, the harder I think about certain things, the more my brain hurts, and I still don’t understand.
Yet the biggest challenges are the things I kinda-sorta understand. Those can be incredibly nettlesome. I’ll bet we all have some of those buzzing around our brains.
A homily for Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord, April 13, 2025
Luke 19:28-40, Isaiah 50:4-7, Philippians 2:6-11, Luke 22:14—23:56
I grew up in a Ford family. Over the years, we had more Country Squires than three seasons of “Bridgerton.” And a couple of Mustangs, of course.
At one point, we added a Volkswagen Bug, and we owned our share of VeeDubs, but they were always The Second Car. The big Ford V-8 was the vehicle of choice.
Yet when it was time for me to take out a loan, sign on the dotted line and drive away in my own wheels, I opted for a, yes, sexy VW Scirocco. And don’t you know, I felt some guilt pangs for betraying the Blue Oval.
A homily for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, February 2, 2025
Malachi 3:1-4, Hebrews 2:14-18, Luke 2:22-40 or 2:22-32
In the brilliant and sorely missed comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes,” the imp and his stuffed tiger who comes to life often play Calvinball.
There is only one permanent rule in Calvinball: players cannot play it the same way twice.
That either confirms or directly conflicts with a child psychologist’s observation that, quite often, kids spend so much time picking teams and hashing out the rules of whatever game they’re about to play that they wind up not having time to play it.
There’s no doubt, however, that we live in a world of rules and rulers. Humankind always has.
A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 29, 2024
Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-17, Lk 2:41-52
Nearly every day between Thanksgiving and Easter, I wear a scarf. They’re always warm and occasionally stylish, though I’m not really aiming for a GQ-kind-of image.
I have a large, though not massive, collection of fuzzy scarves, and through the 26 weeks or so of Scarf Season, I wear all but one of them at least once.
A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, December 22, 2024
Mi 5:1-4a, Heb 10:5-10, Lk 1:39-45
Hope.
Peace.
Joy.
Love.
All four candles of our Advent wreath are glowing today, the candles symbolizing hope, peace, joy and love. Our season of preparation to celebrate the Nativity of the Prince of Peace is nearly complete.
A homily for The Resurrection of the Lord (Easter Sunday), March 31, 2024
Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Col 3:1-4, Jn 20:1-9
It’s been more than 30 years since videogame systems went from curiosities to must-have additions to nearly every household, at least here in America.
Children and parents alike learned about levels and bosses and cheat codes, especially how left-left-down-A-A-C-up-B-C could give a player extra lives.
Extra lives.
Before cheat codes and game-reset buttons, the only notion of extra lives revolved around cats and their supposed nine of them.
A homily for The Epiphany of the Lord, January 7, 2024
Is 60:1-6, Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6, Mt 2:1-12
In laypeople’s terms, an epiphany is a revelation or a realization, one that sometimes confounds or dumbfounds someone.
At other times, the epiphany provides reassurance or utter joy.
An epiphany is the light bulb going off over somebody’s head, or the forehead smack — duh! — of somebody who’s caught unawares, or the out-of-nowhere guffaws when that one particular friend finally “gets” the ice cream joke.
An epiphany is a confirmation through observation that something we suspected to be true really and truly is.
A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 31, 2023
Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-17, Lk 2:22-40
I am the oldest of the six sons of William J. Zapcic MD and Julia M. McCosker Zapcic RN, who, as family legend tells it, met in an operating room during a Caesarian section.
The first four of us arrived in brisk sequence; we all know the impolite term for siblings close in age. And all six of us are unique individuals, united by ancestry and gene pool more than by shared interests. Nonetheless, our love runs deep.
