A homily for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 3, 2024
Dt 6:2-6, Heb 7:23-28, Mk 12:28b-34
It’s bumper sticker season.
Likewise, it’s lawn sign season, and billboard season, and the season for enough political ads on TV that we probably welcome the commercials for Medicare Advantage and the little pill with the big story to tell.
For now, though, let’s stick with stickers.
A homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 27, 2024
Jer 31:7-9, Heb 5:1-6, Mk 10:46-52
One of the cultural touchstones that “Seinfeld” wove into America’s consciousness was “Serenity Now.”
George Costanza’s father, Frank, is told by a supposedly inspirational tape to say “serenity now” every time he gets angry as a possible way to keep his blood pressure down. And Frank barks the phrase often, loudly and angrily.
“Serenity Now!”
“Now” being the operative word.
A homily for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 29, 2024
Nm 11:25-29, Jas 5:1-6, Mk 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
The other day, I stumbled across a pack of Magic Birthday Candles. You know, the ones that relight themselves every time you blow them out. I actually was looking for the gizmo that helps me open the jar of bread-and-butter pickles, but I found the three magic candles first.
I of course was rooting around in the kitchen junk drawer. It’s right next to the dishwasher in our house, and it holds a big screwdriver, a set of those tiny jeweler’s screwdrivers, scissors, pliers, measuring tapes — big and little — Scotch tapes, double-sticky-stuff, a Ziploc of glitter, and birthday candles, mostly half-burned.
All that and much more. Much, much more. Including three lonely little magic candles.
And everything in that drawer — which nobody in my family can close fully — everything in that drawer is absolutely essential for us to live a complete and meaningful life.
So is everything in our basement.
Absolutely essential.
Yours too, I bet.
A homily for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 22, 2024
Wis 2:12, 17-20, Jas 3:16—4:3, Mk 9:30-37
When our daughter was first breaking into the entertainment business, she did as many of her fellow performers did: She waited tables and worked other jobs at restaurants and bars.
She often covered the Early Bird shifts when she was working at Macaroni Grill. Early Birds … we all know what that means, right? Gaggles of Golden Agers.
Back then, Macaroni Grill was trying to shore up its bona fides as an Italian eatery by serving their pre-meal bread with seasoned olive oil, as legit ristorantes do. So Erin would bring out the crusty loaves and plunk them down alongside the olio d’oliva, and then head back to her station. She rarely was more than a step or two away before a patron would holler over to her: “Waitress, you forgot the butter for the bread.”
She learned quickly, really quickly, to carry a big stash of those little butter briquets in her apron.
A homily for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 15, 2024
Is 50:5-9a, Jas 2:14-18, Mk 8:27-35
Wise people have embraced the maxim that we may not be able to control certain situations, but we can control how we react to them.
Thank you to whoever said that first, and to everyone else who has spread the word. Truer words were never said (to coin a cliché).
And we all, all too frequently, can find ourselves in situations that are — or may seem — grossly unfair. Especially situations we consider to be insanely unfair to us.
What is it about these happenstances that bring out the 2- or 3-year-old in us? Why is our first impulse to flail about and whine and act mortally wounded?
A homily for the Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 8, 2024
Is 35:4-7a, Jas 2:1-5, Mk 7:31-37
My father, a family physician who practiced quirky but scientifically sound medicine for more than 50 years, was his own worst patient.
His family members came in second, but we’ll get to that later.
This physician not only could not heal himself, he did not even try, as far as my brothers and sisters-in-law and I could ever determine.
A homily for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 25, 2024
Jos 24:1-2a, 15-17, 18b, Eph 5:21-32 or 5:2a, 25-32, Jn 6:60-69
Many of us who worked in a corporate environment at one time or another probably remember team-building exercises.
A group of folks who work together — or who were going to work together — would trot off to a conference room and play Trivial Pursuit or some variation of Bingo to learn things about each other.
Or maybe we’d scoot over to a local park and have a three-legged race or scatter in twos in a scavenger hunt.
Then there was Do You Trust Me.
A homily for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 18, 2024
Prv 9:1-6, Eph 5:15-20, Jn 6:51-58
Here’s a story about how dense I can be sometimes.
The first time I heard the phrase “six-foot sub,” I wasn’t sure if the speaker was talking about a new Navy vessel or a second-string basketball player coming off the bench.
Yes, I knew what a submarine sandwich was (and is); Dad treated my brothers and me to No. 2s from Elsie’s, and later, from Joyce’s, at the start and end of every semester from first grade through high school graduation.
But those ham-and-capicola subs were one-person two-fisted concoctions at six inches, not crowd-feeders at six feet. I just couldn’t see it.
Besides, where would somebody get a roll that big, anyway? That’s a whole lotta bread.
A homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 14, 2024
Am 7:12-15, Eph 1:3-14 or 1:3-10, Mk 6:7-13
Let’s start with a story about how not to evangelize.
When I was in the third grade at St. Leo the Great School in Lincroft, our teachers told us of the great rewards that awaited us in the afterlife if we brought other people into the faith. If we made converts.
Most of us, myself included, expected a shorter stay in Purgatory or, better yet, coconut cream and key lime pies for dessert at every meal in the Heavenly banquet.
A homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 7, 2024
Ez 2:2-5, 2 Cor 12:7-10, Mk 6:1-6
“That’s amazing.”
We’ve all probably seen the Consumer Cellular ad in which the lady in the kitchen is talking with the sales rep while the gentleman is jumping into a pool, doing little tricks.
Yet what amazes her, according to the ad, is not the man’s Olympic wannabe diving prowess but the mobile phone’s features and the company’s service.
Apparently proving, once again, that we 21st-century Americans love our high-tech flashy-sparkly-shiny things.
