A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, December 21, 2025
Isaiah 7:10-14, Romans 1:1-7, Matthew 1:18-24
We imperfect humans ask a lot of questions about our perfect Deity.
Many of them compare God’s persons and unlimited … everything … to our own limitations.
Nope; God is unnnnn-limited
A revisited homily for the Third Sunday of Advent, Dec. 14, 2025
Isaiah 35:1-6a, 10, James 5:7-10, Matthew 11:2-11
As of this belated writing, medium-size snowflakes are falling steadily but gently here at the Jersey Shore, piling up on cars and railings and bannisters and tree branches so heavily that mourning doves can’t grab the wood with their pink feet. It’s Nature’s insistence that we pause and rest.
And, today, to rejoice.
The other night, spending time with eighth-graders prepping for their Confirmation, I introduced the vast majority of them to the notion of Gaudete. And I remembered this homily from 2020, which I republish with some tiny updating and an apology to folks who don’t fancy reruns.
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-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 31, 2025
Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29, Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a, Luke 14:1, 7-14
The older folks among us will remember when the most-watched shows on TV were Westerns. “Gunsmoke.” “Bonanza.” “Wagon Train.” And even these days, they’re getting a pretty decent ride on rerun channels like MeTV.
I don’t remember which Western this happened on, but I do remember a scene in which some tenderfoot came up to a gunslinger, and their conversation went something like this:
“Some people say you’re the fastest gun in these parts. True?”
“It’s true. I can outdraw any man.”
“That’s some pretty serious bragging, mister.”
“No brag. Just fact.”
A homily for the Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 3, 2025
Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23, Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11, Luke 12:13-21
“He who dies with the most toys wins!”
Hmm…
I think that, when it’s my time to go, I’ll rate at least a bronze medal.
A homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 13, 2025
Deuteronomy 30:10-14, Colossians 1:15-20, Luke 10:25-37
It’s something of an urban legend that Amazon delivery drivers go undetected by Ring doorbell cameras. They place packages on our doorsteps, photograph them and email those photos to us as confirmation of safe deliveries.
Invisibly, somehow.
A homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, February 9, 2025
Isaiah 6:1-2a, 3-8, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11, Luke 5:1-11
Anyone among us who is or used to be a child knows all too well the reason we’re given for doing something that seems utterly absurd to us:
“Because I Said So.”
In the great arsenal of weapons … uh, tools … uh, gifts … every parent receives when their children draw their first breaths, “Because I Said So” is the last line of defense, the “Break Glass in Case of Emergency” reason.
Even though we parents whip it out of its holster as our first (and only) option all too often.
A homily for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, February 2, 2025
Malachi 3:1-4, Hebrews 2:14-18, Luke 2:22-40 or 2:22-32
In the brilliant and sorely missed comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes,” the imp and his stuffed tiger who comes to life often play Calvinball.
There is only one permanent rule in Calvinball: players cannot play it the same way twice.
That either confirms or directly conflicts with a child psychologist’s observation that, quite often, kids spend so much time picking teams and hashing out the rules of whatever game they’re about to play that they wind up not having time to play it.
There’s no doubt, however, that we live in a world of rules and rulers. Humankind always has.
A homily — or perhaps a sermon — for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 26, 2025
Nehemiah 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10, 1 Corinthians 12:12-30, Luke 1:1-4; 4:14-21
Many of us grew up when Catholics weren’t supposed to read the Bible. We heard passages from Scripture at Mass, and the priest — always a priest in those days — would share some insights and his learned interpretations, and we’d be enlightened by the Word of God.
‘Nuff said.
Most, if not all, of us had Bibles at home, but those stayed on the shelf, pretty much. If that Bible was a family heirloom, its inner front and back covers held the kind of birth and baptism and marriage and death information that Ancestry.com would drool over.
The pages in between, though … those didn’t get much of a looky-see. Sad to say, some of those family Bibles wound up being used as door stops or tools for pressing dried flowers.
A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 29, 2024
Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-17, Lk 2:41-52
Nearly every day between Thanksgiving and Easter, I wear a scarf. They’re always warm and occasionally stylish, though I’m not really aiming for a GQ-kind-of image.
I have a large, though not massive, collection of fuzzy scarves, and through the 26 weeks or so of Scarf Season, I wear all but one of them at least once.
