A homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 26, 2025
Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18, 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18, Luke 18:9-14
About 600 years before Jesus called out the Pharisees and other leaders of the people as hypocrites, the Greek moralist Aesop told a fable about a frog and an ox.
A homily for the Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 7, 2025
Wisdom 9:13-18b, Philemon 9-10, 12-17, Luke 14:25-33
Amid all the news recently about wars and famines and the melting of the Earth’s biggest iceberg, one item stood out.
A young man named Doogie Sandtiger was awarded the Guinness World Record for the largest collection of Crocs. The Connecticut resident owns more than 3,800 pairs of the shoes, and he is still collecting. He hopes they will form the basis of a Crocs museum.
A fascinating human interest story, or just a crock?
How we view our own stuff will determine which side we come down on.
A homily for the Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 31, 2025
Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29, Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a, Luke 14:1, 7-14
The older folks among us will remember when the most-watched shows on TV were Westerns. “Gunsmoke.” “Bonanza.” “Wagon Train.” And even these days, they’re getting a pretty decent ride on rerun channels like MeTV.
I don’t remember which Western this happened on, but I do remember a scene in which some tenderfoot came up to a gunslinger, and their conversation went something like this:
“Some people say you’re the fastest gun in these parts. True?”
“It’s true. I can outdraw any man.”
“That’s some pretty serious bragging, mister.”
“No brag. Just fact.”
A homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 10, 2025
Wisdom 18:6-9, Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19, Luke 12:32-48
As it turns out, most of the stories about Johnny Appleseed were true, and only mildly embellished.
Here are a couple of salient paragraphs from the Wikipedia entry on this American folk hero:
Johnny Appleseed (born John Chapman; September 26, 1774 – March 18, 1845) was an American pioneer nurseryman who introduced trees grown with apple seeds (as opposed to trees grown with grafting) to large parts of Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Ontario, as well as the northern counties of West Virginia. He became an American icon while still alive, due to his kind, generous ways, his leadership in conservation, and the symbolic importance that he attributed to apples. …
The popular image is of Johnny Appleseed spreading apple seeds randomly everywhere he went. In fact, he planted nurseries rather than orchards, built fences around them to protect them from livestock and wildlife, left the nurseries in the care of a neighbor who sold trees on shares, and returned every year or two to tend the nursery. … Continue reading Seedlings
A homily for the Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 3, 2025
Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23, Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11, Luke 12:13-21
“He who dies with the most toys wins!”
Hmm…
I think that, when it’s my time to go, I’ll rate at least a bronze medal.
A homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 13, 2025
Deuteronomy 30:10-14, Colossians 1:15-20, Luke 10:25-37
It’s something of an urban legend that Amazon delivery drivers go undetected by Ring doorbell cameras. They place packages on our doorsteps, photograph them and email those photos to us as confirmation of safe deliveries.
Invisibly, somehow.
A homily for The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, June 22, 2025
Genesis 14:18-20, 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, Luke 9:11b-17
Many folks know I’m a retired journalist, which means I made my living for four decades through the careful use of words. So let’s take a moment today to think about an important word. A word that’s important today and every day.
The word is “this.”
T-H-I-S.
A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 25, 2025
Acts 15:1-2, 22-29, Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20, John 17:20-26
(proclaiming the second reading and Gospel from the Seventh Sunday of Easter)
Irish poet William Butler Yeats said, “There are no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met.”
And dozens, maybe thousands, of notable people have said the same thing, sometimes adding their own little twists to it.
If I may be so bold, here’s my little variation:
There are no strangers, only sisters and brothers we haven’t met yet.
A homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 18, 2025
Acts 14:21-27, Revelation 21:1-5a, John 13:31-33a, 34-35
None of us can love ice cream, no matter how vigorously or energetically foot-stompingly any of us insists we absolutely do.
Not vanilla, chocolate or strawberry. Not cookie dough or coconut or fudge ripple or key lime pie. Not even chocolate chip mint!
None of us can love ice cream, though any and all of us can really, really like it.
We can’t love ice cream because ice cream can’t love us back.
A homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 11, 2025
Acts 13:14, 43-52, Revelation 7:9, 14b-17, John 10:27-30
In the incredibly long-running BBC science fiction show “Doctor Who,” The Doctor’s space- and time-travel vessel is bigger on the inside than on the outside.
Yes, that’s a key plot point.
Today’s passage from John’s Gospel has that same characteristic. Its messages — and there are several — are far larger than the 62 words proclaimed. It’s bigger on the inside than on the outside. No alien technology required.
