A homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 5, 2020
Zec 9:9-10, Rom 8:9, 11-13, Mt 11:25-30
There’s something to be said for bumper-sticker theology. Not a lot, mind you, but definitely something to be said, and it’s this:
Most of what Jesus preached does not need over-thinking.
Which means that much of what he preached — and what he expects us to incorporate into our lives every day — can fit on the back of a Chevy.
A homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 28, 2020
2 Kgs 4:8-11, 14-16a, Rom 6:3-4, 8-11, Mt 10:37-42
We know that Scripture, the Word of God as written down by (mostly) men inspired by the Holy Spirit, has gone through numerous translations. Countless translations, actually, from the original. With tweaks to keep certain images and references understandable if not totally relevant to the day in which they’re proclaimed or read.
And although we believe that not much has been lost in translation, and definitely none of the underlying interwoven truth, there can be no doubt that approximations have crept in when one highly nuanced language has 15 words while another squishes them all into one.
Which is why today’s Gospel is challenging to hear, let alone absorb. Because, in the version we heard, Jesus seems to be demanding an either-or rather than a both-and, and that’s not what we’ve come to expect from him.
A homily for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 21, 2020
Jer 20:10-13, Rom 5:12-15, Mt 10:26-33
It’s officially summer. It’s Father’s Day. The Church has returned — for a long stretch — to Ordinary Time, a quieter time in the liturgical calendar. The green vestments are back indoors, just as green leaves are back outdoors. (The pollen too, but oh well.)
All’s right with the world. There’s joy in Heaven and on Earth.
Oh, wait.
These are not ordinary Ordinary times.
A homily for the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, June 14, 2020
Dt 8:2-3, 14b-16a, 1 Cor 10:16-17, Jn 6:51-58
Our solemnity today of the Body and Blood of Christ — Corpus Christi, in popular parlance — is a profound veneration of God’s gift of the Son to humanity as our Savior. Jesus gave us his literal body and blood as a sacrifice for our sins — those already committed and those yet to be committed — and he gave us his body and blood in the Eucharist so that we could do likewise in memory of him.
Now, if he were here with us today, and told us we had to eat his flesh and drink his blood, and we’d never heard that before, would we freak out as much as the Jews did in today’s Gospel?
Probably.
A homily for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, June 7, 2020
Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9, 2 Cor 13:11-13, Jn 3:16-18
We bless ourselves in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
And then we lock it in with a solid “Amen.” “It is so.” “Truly.”
We baptize this way. Confirm this way. The Trinitarian way.
A homily for the Feast of Pentecost, Sunday, May 31, 2020
Acts 2:1-11 , 1 Cor 12:3B-7, 12-13, Jn 20:19-23
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Take a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
Breathe deeply through your nose, yoga-style, then hold it for a count of 10.
Let it out slowly through your pursed lips, as if you were going to whistle. And whistle softly if you want; it’s optional.
Now let your breathing go back to automatic. It’s not that easy, is it? Not after doing controlled breathing exercises.
A homily for the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord, May 24, 2020
Acts 1:1-11, Eph 1:17-23, Mt 28:16-20
As they were looking on,
he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.
While they were looking intently at the sky as he was going,
suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them.
They said, “Men of Galilee,
why are you standing there looking at the sky?
This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven
will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”
Let’s join the friends of Jesus as they stood together that day in the First Century A.D., and for a moment let’s assume we have the same knowledge of science and other academic disciplines that they did.
A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 17, 2020
Acts 8:5-8, 14-17, 1 Pt 3:15-18, Jn 14:15-21
When it became clear, two or three months or so ago, that the novel coronavirus was becoming dangerous, then really dangerous, then life-threatening, most of us bugged out à la M*A*S*H from our places of work or school. Quickly. Messily.
Very quickly. Very messily.
We grabbed the essentials to continue as essential workers; we powered down everything else; we scooted out of wherever with barely a “See ya” or a “Take care.”
Unlike mobile Army surgical hospitals, we never had bug-out drills. We never practiced shutting it all down and setting it all up somewhere else. We exited without a playbook, making it up as we went along. Some things we got right. Too many things, we got wrong.
A homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 10, 2020
Acts 6:1-7, 1 Pt 2:4-9, Jn 14:1-12
Reach inside yourself for a moment.
No, not metaphorically or metaphysically.
Open your mouth, reach in, and pull out your soul.
Can’t do it? How about through your nose or ears?
Your bellybutton, maybe?
No?
A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, May 3, 2020
Acts 2:14a, 36-41, 1 Pt 2:20b-25, Jn 10:1-10
We should start with a little history, my personal history. Nine years plus two weeks ago, the day after my ordination, I preached officially for the first time at my Mass of Thanksgiving, and it was this Gospel. Jesus as the Sheepgate. So it would be cheating — never a good thing for a man of the cloth — for me to dredge up that homily and post it today, hoping that my beloved parishioners would (a) have forgotten it or (b) remember it yet forgive me for playing a greatest hit.
And I think — I hope — my preaching has matured a bit since that nervous first homily.
Besides, I couldn’t find it.
