Tag: Homily

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A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Dec. 27, 2020

Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-21, Lk 2:22-40

Before we attempt to discern what makes a family holy, we should try to determine what makes a family.

Are blood relatives a family? Are people joined in a sacramental or governmental bond a family? Is a commune a family?

Are people who agree with each other a family? Can families disagree and not be disagreeable?

Do people have to like each other to be considered a family? Do people have to love each other to be considered a family?

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Wrapped up in our lives

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.

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Assembly required

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.

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Gaudete, y’all

A homily for the Third Sunday of Advent, Dec. 13, 2020

Is 62:1-2A, 10-11, 1 Thes 5:16-24, Jn 1:6-8, 19-28

Once upon a time, there was a brilliant priest who grew up in Dallas, influenced by the spirit and enthusiasm of the Protestant Christian brothers and sisters who lived all around him. The kind of folks who, bless ’em, will gladly drop an “Amen” on you regularly.

He also was possessed of a Texas twang — not really a drawl, not really not — so when he pronounced his Latin … well, let’s just say that Caesar himself would have had a little trouble understanding him.

My priest friend, in particular, liked to greet folks on the Third Sunday of Advent with a hearty and heartfelt “guh-Dowty,” the Lone Star way of saying “Gaudete.” 

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Milling and paving

A homily for the Second Sunday of Advent, Dec. 6, 2020

Is. 40:1-5, 9-11, 2 Pt 3:8-14, Mk 1:1-8

If you live in New Jersey or nearby, you know about highways and highway construction. Except in the coldest and snowiest months, a road somewhere in New Jersey is being built from scratch or rehabilitated.

We in New Jersey like our roads. We like them wide, we like them smooth, and we like them fast.

(The only thing we would like better than our roads is a “Star Trek” transporter to get us from Point A to Point B almost instantaneously, and that’s not happening in this lifetime, as far as I know.)

So the notion of “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths” is right up our alley. 

Or is it?

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Making the best of it

A homily for the First Sunday of Advent, Nov. 29, 2020

Is 63:16B-17, 19B; 64:2-7, 1 Cor 1:3-9, Mk 13:33-37

When Andrea and I were newlyweds in North Jersey, a priest at our parish up there preached a homily that has stuck with us all these years.

I’ve adapted it and updated it a bit, but it’s still Father Frank’s, and I’m thankful for it.

I hope you will be, too.

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It’s not cod-liver oil

A homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Nov. 22, 2020

Ez 34:11-12, 15-17, 1 Cor 15:20-26, 28, Mt 25:31-46

My mom grew up in a row house in the Logan section of Philadelphia, where everyone had a front porch and there was no separation among them except for a three-foot-tall brick divider.

On one hand, back in the first half of the 20th Century, it engendered a sense of neighborliness we’re missing in the suburbs these days. On the other hand, privacy was in short supply.

Which meant that everybody knew when her neighbors three houses down got their nightly outdoor checkups on their porch and had to choke down their foul, fishy-tasting medicine.

All because it was good for them.

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When bigger is better

A homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Nov. 15, 2020

Prv 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31, 1 Thes 5:1-6, Mt 25:14-30

The best way to check if something — or someone, or you — is alive is to make sure it’s growing.

If it is, it’s alive.

But if someone is already 6-foot-7, and that’s the tallest they’re going to get, are they still growing?

If someone is truly alive, the answer is yes, because people have the God-given ability to grow intellectually, emotionally and spiritually every day of their lives. Which means, of course, that someone needs to grow in these areas to be more than merely existing.

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It’s a virtue

A homily for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Nov. 8, 2020

Wis 6:12-16, 1 Thes 4:13-18, Mt 25:1-13

Imagine, if you will, that you’re standing at the train station waiting for the 5:14 to New York, and it’s 5:12 p.m. Where are you looking? At your watch or smartphone? Randomly, all around?

Maybe.

But the odds are good that you’re looking up the tracks in the direction your train will be coming from. You want to see the train coming. You want to be ready when it arrives … as if you weren’t already ready to climb aboard.

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Holier than whom?

A homily for the Solemnity of All Saints, Nov. 1, 2020

Rv 7:2-4, 9-14, 1 Jn 3:1-3, Mt 5:1-12A

The notion of “holy” gets some people all knotted up, because to some folks, “holy” is the first two syllables of a phrase that ends with “er than thou,” and like almost everything else in American culture, achieving a level of holiness can become a competition, cynical or otherwise.

It’s not.

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