A homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 24, 2022
Gn 18:20-32, Col 2:12-14, Lk 11:1-13
Can we talk?
Can we take a minute or three to talk about talking? Because there’s a lot to say.
A homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 24, 2022
Gn 18:20-32, Col 2:12-14, Lk 11:1-13
Can we talk?
Can we take a minute or three to talk about talking? Because there’s a lot to say.
A homily for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 17, 2022
Gn 18:1-10a, Col 1:24-28, Lk 10:38-42
This is not a rant about people (especially motorists) whose faces are buried in their phones and digital devices nonstop (although it could be).
This is more of an observation about what they’re missing.
A homily for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 10, 2022
Dt 30:10-14, Col1:15-20, Lk 10:25-37
What’s in your pocket?
If this were a TV commercial, you’d answer one way.
If this were “Let’s Make A Deal,” you’d answer another.
If you were being frisked, your answer would be something else entirely.
But this is none of those situations.
What’s in your pocket?
A homily for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 3, 2022
Is 66:10-14c, Gal 6:14-18, Lk 10:1-12, 17-20
In my Boy Scout days — back when I wore the uniform and attended meetings, not my current ongoing demeanor — Lincroft Troop 110 would spend two weeks each summer at Forestburg Scout Camp, somewhere in New York state between Port Jervis and Monticello, as I recall.
The younger scouts would stay in cabin tents at Central Camp, famed or infamous for its dining hall, Army-style chow and “bug juice,” a Kool-Aid knockoff usually lukewarm and red.
More experienced scouts bunked at the Dan Beard Camp (I never looked up who Mr. Beard was and I still haven’t), where small groups of us did our own cooking and cleaning. We still had bug juice to drink.
The rain-soaked highlight/lowlight of each week was the overnight hike, where everyone was supposed to rough it, with only a blanket and poncho and a basic mess kit to spend the night.
Packing light, in other words.
A homily for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, June 26, 2022
1 Kgs 19:16b, 19-21, Gal 5:1, 13-18, Lk 9:51-62
In 1966, Walt Disney produced a movie called “Follow Me, Boys!” about a man who settles down in a small town and becomes a scoutmaster. It starred Fred MacMurray, best known to the TV generation as the father in “My Three Sons” and to the Turner Classic Movies generation as the star of “Double Indemnity.”
In one scene in “Follow Me, Boys!” MacMurray stumbles into a restricted area and is questioned by the Army. After he explains he’s a scoutmaster, the soldiers challenge him to tie a sheepshank, a complicated knot he never got the hang of.
Had he tied it, the knot would have been incontrovertible proof that he was a troop leader.
Oops.
(His identity did eventually get clarified.)
A homily for The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, June 19, 2022
Gn 14:18-20, 1 Cor 11:23-26, Lk 9:11b-17
Our news flashes and history books are filled with accounts of women and men — heroes, we call them — risking their lives or even making the ultimate sacrifice for the good of others.
Often, these heroes act for the benefit of absolute strangers. Sometimes those strangers are right there where the act of heroism takes place. Many times, the strangers are thousands of miles away, across oceans on another continent.
That’s the case, of course, in world wars.
And sometimes the strangers who will benefit the most have not yet been born, because the act of heroism has a history-making or civilization-changing impact.
Risking their lives. Making the ultimate sacrifice. Smothering a grenade with their body. Spilling their blood.
A homily for The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, June 12, 2022
Prv 8:22-31, Rom 5:1-5, Jn 16:12-15
Everything.
Everything for everyone, everywhere.
A homily for Pentecost, June 5, 2022
Acts 2:1-11, 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13, Jn 20:19-23
Inhale.
Exhale.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Take a deep breath.
Let it out slowly.
The process is called respiration.
Respiration keeps us alive.
A homily for the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord, May 29, 2022
Acts 1:1-11, Heb 9:24-28; 10:19-23, Lk 24:46-53
Years ago, in an episode of St. Elsewhere, the doctor played by Howie Mandel dies on the operating table and opens his eyes in Heaven, where he sees former patients celebrating in a beautiful countryside.
He asks one of the patients when he would see God, and then Howie Mandel taps Howie Mandel on the shoulder, introducing himself as The Almighty.
“Everyone sees me differently,” God explains, “because I created each of you in my image and likeness, and to you, I look like you.”
Fascinating interpretation, yes?
Then, back on Earth, the surgeons at St. Eligius Hospital revive Howie’s character and he leaves Heaven. For the time being.
A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 22, 2022
Acts 15:1-2, 22-29, Rev 21:10-14, 22-23, Jn 14:23-29
Souvenez-vous que nous sommes dans la sainte présence de Dieu.
What does “omnipresent” really mean?
When we assert that God is everywhere, what are we saying?