Dear Parishioners, The notion of privilege has been on my heart these several weeks. We are a privileged people. The Catholic Church and all its members are blessed and chosen specifically by God. This isn’t anything new in the tradition. Israel was also a privileged, chosen nation. “For you are a people holy to the LORD, your God; the LORD, your God, has chosen you from all the peoples on the face of the earth to be a people specially his own” (Deuteronomy 7:6). Modern soc

Our first reading is the scene of Elisha, a prophet of ancient Israel, having dinner with a prominent husband and wife. The couple enjoys their dinner with the prophet so much they make a nice guest room for the prophet and invite him to come back on his day off in the future. Elisha takes them up periodically on the offer and eventually, because of their generosity, intercedes for the man and woman so they are able to conceive a child.

I’ve noticed when I give out communion at Mass that when I say “The Body of Christ” I whisper it. I’m not sure if this simply developed out of a habit of manners–trying to keep a low voice when inside, especially inside a church–or for some other unintentional reason, but the more I think about it, the more I find whispering appropriate (if I may humbly say so myself). Why?

Last Sunday on Pentecost I gave another “history of the Catholic Church” homily, this time focusing on the split of western and eastern Christianity (Catholic and Orthodox).

Last week at the opening of the parish garden I was instructed on the box planting method used by our volunteer gardeners for each of the plots. Each garden bed is divided into a grid of 12X12 squares.

The scene of the Ascension as recounted in Acts of the Apostles (our first reading) has a few interesting details. We hear that, among the group of apostles looking up at the sky, “suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them.” These two men are presumably angels–the same two inside the empty tomb on Easter Sunday. But Luke doesn’t call them angels. He calls them “men.” Likewise, Mark’s Gospel refers to a “young man” inside the tomb after the resurrection.

Dear Parishioners, I mentioned in a recent homily that my favorite prayer over the last few years has become the simple, short prayer: “Come, Holy Spirit.” That’s it. Just those three words. Yes, that counts as a prayer. I have a lot of favorite prayers–the Memorare, the Suscipe, the Anima Christi, to name a few–but "Come, Holy Spirit" cuts the deepest to my heart. Let me explain. First, I like its brevity. I think you know that about me by now. I’m pretty economical. There’

I think it’s safe to say that Jesus’ words from today’s Gospel are consoling: “In my father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.”

I was recently interviewed about the Anointing of the Sick for a series being done on the sacraments.

Thomas certainly had some audacity in asking–no, demanding–to see the nail marks of the risen Christ. It would have been like Peter wanting to see the rooster again that had crowed. The nail marks should not have been something Thomas, or any of the other apostles, would have wanted to see.