A homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, November 23, 2025
2 Samuel 5:1-3, Colossians 1:12-20, Luke 23:35-43
In first-century Jerusalem, Jesus of Nazareth …
… Jesus, the descendant of David who was born in a Bethlehem stable …
… Jesus, the Son of God and son of Mary …
was a terrible king.
Horrible.
Incredibly bad.
At least, that’s what a lot of Israelites believed.
A homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 16, 2025
Malachi 3:19-20a, 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12, Luke 21:5-19
In one of Hollywood’s greatest tear-jerking farewell sequences, E.T. admonishes young Gertie, “Be good.” Then, in his raspy, almost robotic voice, the little alien botanist points to Elliott’s forehead and says, “I’ll be right here.”
The spaceship ascends to the heavens, and the Extra-Terrestrial lives on in the hearts and minds of the people whose lives he’s touched.
And in those of movie fans worldwide.
A (belated and brief) homily for the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome, November 9, 2025
Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9, 12, 1 Corinthians 3:9c-11, 16-17, John 2:13-22
In every city and village worldwide, we’ll find houses of worship: temples, synagogues, mosques, churches, and more. Even storefronts and basements and tents and, yes, caves serve as gathering places for members of the human family to acknowledge in their culturally and religiously appropriate way that somebody somewhere loves us enough to give us our little blue marble in the sky.
To give us our own lives.
To give us our own unique lives, with our own unique abundance of gifts.
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-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 5, 2025
Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4, 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14, Luke 17:5-10
We’re slowly edging into autumn. It’s more than a month old, meteorologically, and a little over a week old astronomically. The trees are starting to show their fall colors (though this looks like a dull season), and not long from now the leaves of brown will come tumblin’ down (to steal some lyrics).
It’s the annual cycle of seasons here in the Northeast.
It’s the circle of life, to borrow some other lyrics.
And because all life on God’s Green Earth is interconnected, because every singular aspect of life — our lives — contributes to the whole of Creation, there’s a spiritual aspect to the very physical cycle of death and rebirth. A metaphor.
As witnessed by all the plants we refer to as deciduous or annuals.
A homily for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 28, 2025
Amos 6:1a, 4-7, 1 Timothy 6:11-16, Luke 16:19-31
George Booth was a cartoonist, mostly for The New Yorker magazine, and he was famous for his detailed line drawings of wacky people and their even-wackier pets. His trademark character was a skittish bull terrier, and he once drew a cartoon with 86 cats and 74 dogs, along with a bunch of people and a cloud of buzzing flies.
George Booth’s cartoons were hilarious.
But he could be profound.
A prayer-homily for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 17, 2025
Jeremiah 38:4-6, 8-10, Hebrews 12:1-4, Luke 12:49-53
This weekend, I was humbled and honored to represent the Church of St. Anselm at a Community Day of Prayer in Tinton Falls, New Jersey. The devotional celebration was sponsored by a variety of churches in Monmouth County; it was coordinated by St. Thomas AME Zion Church and their pastor, the Rev. Danica L. Frink.
I was one of seven preachers called upon to lead the attendees in a prayer for specific needs. Again: humbling, yet uplifting.
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 Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 20, 2025
Genesis 18:1-10a, Colossians 1:24-28, Luke 10:38-42
Most of us have compiled or received (or both) a honey-do list, a tally of all the stuff that needs to be done around the house. The list challenges us (nags us?) to get off our duffs and wash the windows, schedule the car maintenance, call the exterminator and, oh yeah, give Rover a long-overdue bath.
Without making the house smell like wet dog.
Quite often, the lists grow more like zucchini in a New Jersey summer than basketball-size green melons. In fact, mine qualifies as a watermelon list.
A homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 6, 2025
Isaiah 66:10-14c, Galatians 6:14-18, Luke 10:1-12, 17-20
This steamy, sultry time of the year, two things are clear (even if thunderstorm-laden skies are not):
Shorter homilies are preferable, depending on the nearest HVAC system, and we pay more attention to summertime events and holidays than to theology. Especially those of us who live in tourist-y locales.
So how ’bout we try mixing church and state briefly but sincerely…
