A homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, November 23, 2025
2 Samuel 5:1-3, Colossians 1:12-20, Luke 23:35-43
In first-century Jerusalem, Jesus of Nazareth …
… Jesus, the descendant of David who was born in a Bethlehem stable …
… Jesus, the Son of God and son of Mary …
was a terrible king.
Horrible.
Incredibly bad.
At least, that’s what a lot of Israelites believed.
A homily for the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed:
All Souls, November 2, 2025
Wisdom 3:1-9, Romans 5:5-11, John 6:37-40
Please forgive me if I’ve recounted this before…
When I was 12, three of my classmates’ fathers died in a fairly rapid sequence, including the dad of my best friend. Mr. M was in his mid-30s, a rugged National Guard officer, and his abrupt death seemed to come as far more of a shock than the other two. Those gents were older and ill, though all losses are sad.
The three deaths terrified me, but I wasn’t afraid that my father would be next. No: I was convinced that my time was almost up.
A homily for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14, 2025
Numbers 21:4b-9, Philippians 2:6-11, John 3:13-17
A symbol is defined as “a thing that represents or stands for something else, especially a material object representing something abstract.”
Our lives are chock-full of symbols. The American flag, and flags of all the other nations on Earth. Stick-figure women and men on restroom doors. Stick-figure people in wheelchairs. Smiley faces.
Crosses and crucifixes.
And the simpler and clearer the symbol may be, the more complicated our understanding of it and our relationship with it becomes.
A homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 25, 2025
Acts 15:1-2, 22-29, Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20, John 17:20-26
(proclaiming the second reading and Gospel from the Seventh Sunday of Easter)
Irish poet William Butler Yeats said, “There are no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met.”
And dozens, maybe thousands, of notable people have said the same thing, sometimes adding their own little twists to it.
If I may be so bold, here’s my little variation:
There are no strangers, only sisters and brothers we haven’t met yet.
A homily for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 27, 2025
Acts 5:12-16, Revelation 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19, John 20:19-31
It seems like forever that people have disagreed on whether it’s better to forgive and forget or forgive and remember whenever someone — or some institution — has done wrong by us.
Both sides make strong cases.
Those who’d forgive and forget wipe the slate clean. You’re sorry; I forgive you; let’s pretend the whole thing never happened. It’s a lot less to carry around when we’re all bearing crosses of some sort.
Then again, those who forgive and remember choose to watch out for the same thing happening again. Yes, I forgive you, but I also have my eye on you. You say you’re sorry, and I mostly believe you, but I’m on guard. My radar is on. I’m wearing armor. Fool me once, etc.
Definitely an either-or proposition.
A homily for The Resurrection of the Lord (Easter), April 20, 2025
Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Colossians 3:1-4, John 20:1-9
Sometimes, I just don’t get it.
Every now and then, there are things I “should” understand, but don’t.
Every now and then, the harder I think about certain things, the more my brain hurts, and I still don’t understand.
Yet the biggest challenges are the things I kinda-sorta understand. Those can be incredibly nettlesome. I’ll bet we all have some of those buzzing around our brains.
A homily for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 7, 2024
Acts 4:32-35, 1 Jn 5:1-6, Jn 20:19-31
The night our daughter was born, Andrea and I attended my 10-year reunion at Christian Brothers Academy. As we sat nibbling on dessert, a tall, powerfully built man I did not recognize ambled over to our table and introduced himself in a basso-profundo voice.
He was a CBA classmate I remembered as being short, a little pudgy, with a squeaky voice.
“Yeah,” he said with a wide grin, “I’ve been getting that reaction all night. I shot up in college and bulked up at Quantico during FBI training.”
I did not expect that.
I saw him again at another class reunion. This time, though still tall, he was rail-thin. He’d left the Bureau and started running marathons.
I did not expect that, either.
A homily for The Resurrection of the Lord (Easter Sunday), March 31, 2024
Acts 10:34a, 37-43, Col 3:1-4, Jn 20:1-9
It’s been more than 30 years since videogame systems went from curiosities to must-have additions to nearly every household, at least here in America.
Children and parents alike learned about levels and bosses and cheat codes, especially how left-left-down-A-A-C-up-B-C could give a player extra lives.
Extra lives.
Before cheat codes and game-reset buttons, the only notion of extra lives revolved around cats and their supposed nine of them.
