A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 26, 2021
Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-21, Lk 2:41-52
A little girl is watching one of the dozens of rerun channels on TV and asks her parents, “When you were my age, were you in black and white?”
Because, of course, before Adam West appeared IN COLOR twice a week at the same bat-time on the same bat-channel, everything indeed was black and white.
Maybe not visually, but definitely in society.
A homily for The Nativity of the Lord — Christmas, December 25, 2021
Readings from the Mass at Night: Is 9:1-6, Ti 2:11-14, Lk 2:1-14
‘Tis better to give than receive.
Every child knows that. Every adult says that.
Every person of faith, justice and charity tries to live up to that.
So what’s the best gift to give today and every day?
A homily for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, December 19, 2021
Mi 5:1-4a, Heb 10:5-10, Lk 1:39-45
As the Advent season of waiting nears its end for 2021, one key question remains:
What are we waiting for? Or for whom?
Certainly not Godot.
A homily for the Third Sunday of Advent, December 12, 2021
Zep 3:14-18a, Phil 4:4-7, Lk 3:10-18
They go together like Snap, Crackle and Pop:
Faith, Hope and Charity (or Love).
And they’re both the best way to start the day, every day.
Of course, one of these indispensable triads is a lot holier than the other.
A homily for the Second Sunday of Advent, December 5, 2021
Bar 5:1-9, Phil 1:4-6, 8-11, Lk 3:1-6
Sometimes a twisty road is the one to take.
A twisty road might hug a riverbank or an ocean shoreline. It might wrap around the side of a mountain or follow the contours of a valley. It may be twisty because it’s zig-zag terraced up the side of a hill, and that was the safest way to get the path to the other side.
More simply put, a road with plentiful curves often hews to the reality that nature — and God — laid out.
A homily for the First Sunday of Advent, November 28, 2021
Jer 33:14-16, 1 Thes 3:12—4:2, Lk 21:25-28, 34-36
In 1965, John McPhee’s book profiling Bill Bradley, “A Sense of Where You Are,” hit the shelves. In it, the then-student athlete at Princeton University explained how he was able to accurately fire a basketball through the hoop by maintaining, literally, a sense of where he was on the court.
Bradley, who distinguished himself as an Olympian, a New York Knick, a U.S. senator from New Jersey and a true statesman — among innumerable accomplishments — has kept that sense of where he is not only physically but emotionally, psychologically and spiritually throughout his life and career.
Advent challenges us to do the same.
A homily for The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
Dn 7:13-14, Rv 1:5-8, Jn 18:33b-37
If human kings throughout history had been one scintilla of the kind of king Jesus is, we Americans would not cringe at the thought of following a crowned head of state, let alone revering one.
But they weren’t, and we rebelled 2½ centuries ago, and we’re still a rebellious bunch. Empty seats in church are only one sign of many to make that point.
A homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 14, 2021
Dn 12:1-3, Heb 10:11-14, 18, Mk 13:24-32
Judy Garland sang it:
So always look for the silver lining
And try to find the sunny side of life
Today’s Scripture passages are none too sunny as we close out Ordinary Time and the year of Mark’s Gospel.
Frankly, “gloom and doom” only begin to categorize them.
So let’s look for the silver lining and the sunny side.
A homily for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 7, 2021
1 Kgs 17:10-16, Heb 9:24-28, Mk 12:38-44 or 12:41-44
Shortly after I started college, I turned my back on the church. Oh, I’d drop in occasionally to the Sunday evening everybody-sits-on-the-floor-around-the-guitarist Mass in the private dining rooms opposite the main cafeteria, but for the most part, I stopped being a church-goer.
I wasn’t being lazy, and I hadn’t lost my faith or sense of spirituality. (I wound up minoring in theology.) But I was annoyed at my home parish’s incredible preoccupation with money. Well, anyway, that’s how I perceived it.
A homily for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 31, 2021
Dt 6:2-6, Heb 7:23-28, Mk 12:28b-34
Let’s imagine for a minute that it’s Christmas, and we’re 10 years old.
Our favorite uncle has given us the bicycle we’ve been dreaming about — shiny, painted in a red-and-gold sunburst, custom seat and no training wheels.
We throw our arms around Uncle Joe and say, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” about a hundred times.
We grab our coat, wheel our prized new bike out into the December chill — which we don’t feel at all — and pedal around the block a few times.
Just like Ralphie in the movie, this is the best present we ever got or would ever get.
