A homily for Pentecost Sunday, May 23, 2021
Acts 2:1-11, 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13, Jn 15:26-27; 16:12-15
Today is about Truth.
(Actually, every day should be about truth, but today is special.)
Today is about speaking the Truth.
Today is about recognizing Truth when we hear it.
Today is about acting in support of Truth.
A homily for the Third Sunday of Easter, April 18, 2021
Acts 3:13-15, 17-19, 1 Jn 2:1-5a, Lk 24:35-48
“Witness” is an odd word.
It’s a noun, and a vivid one at that.
It’s a verb, and it can be transitive or intransitive.
Frankly, it’s a miracle “witness” isn’t every other part of speech as well.
A homily for Easter Sunday, the Resurrection of the Lord, April 4, 2021
Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Col 3:1-4, Jn 20:1-9
Did our jaws drop this morning? They should have.
Did we shout “Alleluia!” for its own sake, not just because it was in a prayer we had to say at church? We should have.
Did we greet each other with “Christos anesti! Alethos anesti!” or another culturally appropriate way of saying Christ is risen; truly, he is risen? We must.
A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, March 14, 2021
2 Chr 36:14-16, 19-23, Eph 2:4-10, Jn 3:14-21
Whenever some people hear this Gospel proclaimed or read it for themselves, they quickly jump to the second paragraph, known popularly by its chapter and verse: John 3:16.
For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son,
so that everyone who believes in him might not perish
but might have eternal life.
And that is a beautiful, powerful verse from John, perhaps the essence of John’s Gospel. That verse encompasses faith, hope and love, the bedrock virtues of our relationship with our Creator.
What it has to do with rainbow wigs and clown makeup at pro football games, I’ll never know.
But it’s the verse at the end of today’s selection from Scripture that’s worth exploring today.
[W]hoever lives the truth comes to the light,
so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.
A homily for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Jan. 31, 2021
Dt 18:15-20, 1 Cor 7:32-35, Mk 1:21-28
How many demons have you seen lately? Have you gone to the neighborhood exorcist for your unclean spirit problem recently?
Among our many challenges as 21st Century Christians is finding the deeper truths in First Century Scripture or, especially, in The Law and the Prophets that were compiled millennia before that.
We are challenged to see through the eyes of the Apostles and other early disciples when we usually see things through our more scientifically educated eyes, our eyes that have seen and experienced far more than simple fisherman and shepherds who rarely traveled far from their home villages. Who were educated by oral tradition, by word of mouth, and who passed along that knowledge to the next generation orally as well. Who were not exposed to the men who counted the stars or examined anatomy.
To understand, we are challenged to walk in their sandals.
A homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Jan. 17, 2021
1 Sm 3:3b-10, 19, 1 Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20, Jn 1:35-42
In Matthew 22:14 — not among today’s selections from Scripture but relevant — Jesus ends a parable with
Many are invited, but few are chosen.
A more familiar translation is “Many are called, but few are chosen,” but “invited” does make it clearer that an outstretched hand is welcoming the many to a Big Event.
Today, our first reading and our Gospel interweave Choice and Call: of the prophet and of the first Apostles. And of us.
A homily for the Baptism of the Lord, Jan. 10, 2021
Is 42:1-4, 6-7, Acts 10:34-38, Mk 1:7-11
What would you do if, on any given day, the clouds parted, a blinding sunbeam spotlighted you, and a thundering shout — or a barely perceptible whisper — said, “I love you. You rock!”?
You’re not crazy. It’s not a practical joke. It’s not “Candid Camera” or “Punk’d.” It can — and should — be an everyday occurrence for each of us. We just need to understand that we have a role to play in the scenario.
Our role is a lot like Jesus’s role as he was baptized by John in the River Jordan: to serve and not be served, to lead our brothers and sisters to God by example from within the flock. To do the right thing at the right time, even if other people don’t think it’s necessary.
A homily for The Epiphany of the Lord, Jan. 3, 2021
Is 60:1-6, Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6, Mt 2:1-12
Think back to the first time you met Jesus. Do you remember? Was the experience what you expected?
Now, recall the first time you really met Jesus. Was the experience a lot different?
A homily for The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Dec. 25, 2020
Is 9:1-6, Ti 2:11-14, Lk 2:1-14
This time of year, a couple of cable channels run a holiday favorite film nonstop for 24 hours. You know the one.
And even though “A Christmas Story” pales in significance when compared with The Christmas Story, the movie ends with a remembrance that could be scriptural:
The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive.
That’s the core of The Christmas Story, the story we retell today and every December 25 and, we hope, every day of the year in words and actions as faithful followers of Jesus Christ, Our Newborn King.
A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Dec. 20, 2020
2 Sm 7:1-5, 8B-12, 14A, 16, Rom 16:25-27, Lk 1:26-38
Have you ever given or received a present marked “Some Assembly Required”?
Or, more accurately: How many times have you given or received a gift marked “Some Assembly Required”?
When we’re the recipient, we’ll sigh, make a snarky joke about “the gift that keeps on giving,” and then set to work putting all the pieces together. Sometimes we’ll even follow the instructions. And sometimes — sometimes — it goes together easily, correctly, with no pieces left over.
In any case, a gift that requires some — or much — assembly also requires some — or, often, much — commitment.
