Monthly Archives: March, 2014

5th Sunday of Lent, cycle A: The Story of Lazarus

The Gospel — John 11: 1-45

The cast of characters…
Martha and Mary are the voices of all faith-filled people who have suffered loss:
“Where were you? If You had only been here . . .”
Lazarus– “the one whom Jesus loved” is a paradigm of every believer.
Just as Jesus calls to Lazarus to “Come out!” so, too, he calls to each of us to come out from whatever entombs us and allow ourselves to be ‘untied’
by his grace and live to ‘go free’.
The disciples are the ones who pretend to be brave and wise, but are often clueless.
Jesus cries and is perturbed, also. Why? No easy answer.
If Jesus reveals to us the invisible God, what does Jesus show us here about God? Where do you see yourself in the story?

From Mary Birmingham, Word and Worship (A), p.179:
This story is a prelude to the cross. It leads the way; it shows us the meaning of Jesus’ coming passion. Lazarus was raised from the dead for a brief respite; Jesus was raised forever. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection we all share in the Lazarus sign. The raising of Lazarus prompts every believer to answer the ultimate question: DO YOU BELIEVE THAT I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE?

What do you think of Thomas’ statement: “Let us go to die with him.” (verse 16) It is in John 20: 24-29 we also see Thomas after the Resurrection. From that story he gets the name, doubting Thomas. Aren’t we like Thomas, at times?!

Jesus waited. Scripture uses the word remained, which gives the waiting an intentionality. Lazarus was dead for 4, long days. All hope was lost. But everything is possible with God, right? As we heard in Paul’s letter to the Romans a couple weeks ago, “…hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts…” (5:5). It was for the glory of God. God’s time is not our time. What wonderful things may lie in wait for you if you hope in the glory of the Lord?

Martha is worried about the stench in the cave when Jesus approaches (as, of course, Martha would!). Jesus waves that off and focuses on why he is there, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” Jesus is not afraid to come to our stinky, dark places and breathe new life into us! And actually, Jesus does not go into the cave but calls Lazarus out. Jesus calls us OUT of ourselves. And he calls others in to help Lazarus with the bandages. We need the support of our community to jump in and be there with us. Jesus is in the midst of it all. Do you see yourself in this? Our church?

From Exploring the Sunday Readings, March 2002:
John 11: 1-45 – “This illness is not to end in death . . .”
Jesus said the illness would not end in death, but it did. Lazarus died. And so have our friends and loved ones over the years, some of them great believers in the promises of Jesus. We’ve all known people who’ve prayed and prayed that the cancer would go away, or the doctors would find a cure for their condition in time. Sometimes it doesn’t, or they don’t. And it hurts terribly, for the ones who have to let go of the life they know, the ones who have to say goodbye too soon.
Lazarus dies, and his family grieves. Even Jesus weeps at the loss. But then, Lazarus is called out of death to life! And now we hear what Jesus really said: not that Lazarus wouldn’t die, but that death would not be the end of him. Death wins the battle, but love wins the war. So we believe. So we profess.
Human suffering is a mystery we must live with and in – it is a part of everyone’s life eventually. As we head toward Holy Week, it is important to think about how as Christians we view this. What does the cross of Christ tells us about suffering? The cross does not really tell us the why of suffering, but it offers us instead the where of God’s sharing in it. When we suffer, God is in the midst of our suffering. Emmanuel, God-with-us, is also Christ on the cross, God-who-suffers-with-us.
Jesus’ life, death and resurrection are our guarantee that when we reach the limits of our mortality in failure, loss, and pain, we find ourselves on the surprising road to resurrection. (Today’s Parish, Lent 1996, p.22)

The Story of Us at the Well

Father Bob’s homily last Sunday…


Third Sunday of Lent

The story of the Woman at the Well is a fascinating case study of Jesus and a strong, sinful woman to whom he brings faith. Its fast dialogue and intriguing details make it unique. But we should not let this woman have the encounter to herself. I think we should place ourselves at the well, meet Jesus and deepen our faith.

The first thing he says to the Samaritan Woman is “Give me a drink.” She is shocked that a Jew would ask her a Samaritan and a woman for a drink. After all, Samaritans had nothing to do with Jews and men talking to women alone and in public went against every cultural taboo. Already, Jesus is changing the conversation. There is no barrier, cultural or otherwise that Jesus will not overcome to receive our faith. Whatever we feel would exclude us is only an…

View original post 960 more words

4th Sunday of Lent, cycle A

blind man

The Gospel — John 9: 1-41

In John’s gospel ‘miracle stories’ are never simple and are never called miracles.  They are SIGNS that reveal Jesus.  What do you make of this sign or teaching?  What do you make of the mud/saliva paste?

e.e.cummings wrote a poem on spring; he called it ‘mud-luscious.’

Jesus spits – he mixes this part of himself with the clay of the earth.  (Spit, saliva, in Jesus’ day was thought to have healing properties; it actually does.)  He then smears (the Greek word used means anointing) the man’s eyes with this paste and tells him to go and wash. Ordinary, even crude, elements become ways for Jesus to work. This is the essence of our sacraments.

From Celebrations, March 10, 2002:

We are to be like this mud-paste; Jesus mixes into our ‘earthiness’ the healing substance of himself.  We are to be people molded by Christ’s truth, transformed by his words.  As this ‘mud-paste’ we are to be helping to ‘heal’ the world by being in it: we are ointment not pipelines. We help others to see Jesus more by how we are and how we live then by what we pass along.

The word Siloam means ‘Sent’ – so does the word apostle.  Sacraments are ‘signs’ – rituals – that send us forth; every Mass also ends with a sending forth . . . What does it mean to you to be sent?

The story is about the struggle to see –what does this mean?  Have you ever struggled to see?

At first, the blind man only knew Jesus as a man, then as a prophet; at the end he calls him, Lord – a beautiful growth in faith . . .What did knowing Jesus as Lord ‘cost’ the man?  What does it cost you?

From Reginald Fuller, “Scripture in Depth,” :

The original story in this gospel might have simply been about how a man was born blind and was healed by Jesus. This story was then later expanded due to the suffering and needs of the community for which John was writing. He was taking an experience of Jesus and applying it to the present situation. Isn’t that how the Spirit of the Risen Lord usually works? So John’s gospel has a trial and expulsion from the synagogue of Jewish converts to Christianity. This did not happen in Jesus’ day, but it did happen to those of John’s community. For this community to live through this very difficult time, Jesus must be seen and accepted as the true Light of the World that can help them overcome the darkness in which they were living. The washing in the pool of Siloam also suggests a further connection with baptism since the early Church often called baptism an ‘illumination” (photismos).

(Also, from Celebration, March 10, 2002)

From John Foley, S.J. “Spirituality of the Readings,” :

Why is this reading presented during Lent? Because it is pointing to the even greater healing that Easter offers us. We need to prepare for this. Jesus himself will suffer from the blindness of the world and will die because of the blindness of evil. Jesus will descend into the unseeing darkness of mortality, death, and by doing this he will show that love – God’s love –is stronger than death. By his death the world can be healed of its hatred, fear, insecurity; it can finally, once and for all, be assured of God’s love and power to bring good out of even the worst of evils. For, it is the crucified One who is the Risen One. We need to admit that we are like this blind man; we cannot see very well. Our eyes need to be opened. Due to Jesus, we can begin to glimpse and trust God’s answer to blindness, suffering, and sin.

Martin Luther Kin Jr. says, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

Helen Keller was blind and deaf.  Her teacher Anne Sullivan signed the word ‘water’ as she pumped from the well.  It was in that moment that Helen had comprehension that words stood for things.  She says, “She (Sullivan) awakened in me a long forgotten memory…the realization of that word…the touch of the water called my soul to life…she brought me into the light again.”

Some thought from Henri Nouwen in Here and Now:

.  “…pain can be embraced, not out of a desire to suffer, but in the knowledge that something new will be born in the pain, “ (p. 47)

“What really counts is our willingness to let the immense sufferings of our brothers and sisters free us from all arrogance and from all judgments and condemnations and give us a heart as gentle and humble as the heart of Jesus, “ (p. 78).

Lenten Ashes By: Kristine Rooney


My family and I go camping a lot.  The best part is at the end of the day when we have a fire and cook s’mores.  My husband Chris taught our kids to hold their marshmallows just over the fire so they toast into warm, brown, sugary heaven.  I prefer to burn mine.  I like the whole marshmallow to be burned to a crisp.  I blow it out, strip the marshmallow of its blackened skin and then burn it again.  I get sticky, ash-y remains in the corners of my mouth.  I love it.

Now that it’s Lent, we are reminded of ashes.  Usually there is a more somber tone with Lenten ashes than marshmallow ones.  Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, and all that.  Job in the Bible was a big fan of ashes; he liked to sit in them and lament his woes.  Maybe ashes don’t have to be all about suffering and sadness, though.  Ashes do have a hope about them…a soft sweetness.

Ashes are transformative.  Whatever the thing was before is now changed.  The thing isn’t what it was and cannot go back; it has a new reality.  Ashes can be good.  They nourish the soil.  Sometimes fields are purposefully burned to bring new life to them.  I know I prefer an ashen marshmallow way more than a fresh one.  It has a deeper, sooty taste.  Maybe the bitterness balances the sweet.

Ronald Rolheiser says some Aboriginal communities had a tradition where a person would need to spend time sitting in the ashes.  It was healing.  It was work for the soul.  After taking this time in the ashes, the person would wash them off and return to the routine of their life, refreshed.  Even if not refreshed, then changed in some way.  Transformed.

It feels like a lot of people I know are struggling lately.  Bad things happen –  and just when you think you can’t take another thing – another bad thing happens.  It’s like being covered in ashes.  Sometimes, all we can do is just sit in them for a while.  And when we are ready, with God’s help, we can wash them off and be changed by them.  Transformed.

I’m not saying we should go looking for a pile of ashes to jump into.  Ashes, like all suffering,  seem to find us.  I just wonder if it’s okay to be in them sometimes.   And when we are, we could grow and be re-made from the experience.  Like fire to a marshmallow, maybe we’ll be even better afterwards.  What do you think?  



The Glory of God is US

Father Bob’s homily last Sunday…


Second Sunday of Lent A

I am sick of this winter.  And it is more than about a meteorological phenomenon.  It has affected my attitude and I bet it has affected yours as well.  It has been a keep your head down, get through the icy wind kind of winter.   Yes, there are occasionally pleasant spring-like days just to tease us.  They come as shafts of light angling into a basement.  But then the cold reality returns.

And I think that it is often enough that way in our lives.  We keep our head down and try to get things done.  Try to keep up with our calendars, our deadlines and our homework. Occasionally, some light shines through, a moment of levity are a clear possession of beauty, but then it is back to the grind.

It would seem the Transfiguration was such a respite moment.  Jesus and the disciples…

View original post 546 more words

3rd Sunday of Lent, Cycle A

water of life

“God thirsts for us so that we may thirst for God.”  ~St Augustine

A Reading from the Holy Gospel according to John ( 4: 5-42).

What does water mean to you?  Think about a time when you have been very thirsty . . .Jesus is the one who can give us the living water that can soften our hard hearts.  How can our experience of water speak to us about the life Jesus offers us?

Look at what has come before this in John’s gospel:

*The wedding at Cana – Jesus changes the purification water into wine.  Jesus goes to Jerusalem and cleanses the Temple. Nicodemus, a faithful Jew and Pharisee, comes to Jesus at night discovering that he must be born again of water and Spirit.  John the Baptist tells followers that Jesus must become more important, and he must become less.

All of these ‘signs’ reveal to us that in Jesus a new way is open to relate to God – to a God who loves us and wishes to be one with us.

+What do you make of the setting – a well at noon, and this well is      not the local well, but one that is ½ mile away?

+Jesus is thirsty – he is human and in need.  Perhaps the human Jesus also speaks to us of God’s thirst as he begins an encounter with this woman.  For what or whom do you think the God-in-Jesus ‘thirsts’?

+This story was a very important one for early Christians – especially as they prepared people for baptism.

What does it say to you about faith and baptism?

This woman appears to be a moral outcast for she is not comfortable going to the well in her village of Sychar. She is even not comfortable going to this one except at noon, during the heat of the day when she thinks that no one else will be there. The conversation that John gives us must have been only a brief report of a much longer encounter with Jesus. But however it took place it seems that here this woman and outsider has found someone with kindness in his eyes; to this one she could open her heart. In this story we see three characteristics of Jesus:

  • his humanity
  • his warmth and compassion
  • his ability and courage to breakdown barriers.

Jesus is weary and thirsty and exhausted – yet he does not mind reaching out to this woman – and even letting this woman help him. She seems to sense his compassion and care, for she finds it easy to talk with him once she overcomes the shock that he reaches out to her. But besides being a Samaritan, this one is also a woman. Most Rabbis’ in Jesus’ day would not even talk with their own wife or daughter in public, much less a stranger and one with a notorious character. (Pharisees were often called ‘the bruised and bleeding’ ones because when they saw a woman on the street they would close their eyes which often led them to pump into walls or trip over stones!) (Wm. Barclay, The Gospel of John, vol.1, p. 147-164)

Although this is the year of Matthew, we will hear from John’s gospel for the next three weeks.  Matthew’s gospel was probably written by and for Jewish Christians who were trying to integrate their belief in Jesus with their Jewish traditions and beliefs. John’s gospel was written at the end of the first century when many Christians had faced intense persecution and were disappointed that Jesus had not returned in the Second Coming. In this faith crisis, they asked “Where is the Risen Christ?” John’s gospel tried to help them see that the Risen Christ is right in their midst – if they could but see! John uses a different type of writing from the other gospels. He wanted to encourage people to think allegorically – to see more than one level of meaning in what he is saying. So he often ‘plays’ on double meanings of words: being born again – water and thirst – light and darkness – food, bread and hunger – sight and blindness – life and death . .  .    (Share the Word, March, 1999)

The Samaritans were a people who like the Jews awaited a Messiah; they looked for a teacher rather than a ruler.  They had once been a part of the Jewish people, but now they were shunned. When they had been conquered, they had chosen to intermarry. They were seen as unclean. When after the Jewish Exile, they had offered to help the Jews rebuild the temple, they were rejected. Hatred grew on both sides. Sometimes the Samaritans had worked with those who were enemies of the Jews. During their separation from the Jews, the Samaritans had also worshipped the idols of the pagans with whom they had intermarried.  The Samaritans had five false gods (the Samaritan woman had five husbands). They even built a rival temple on Mt. Gerizim. In 128 B.C. Jews had retaliated by destroying this temple. Both Jews and Samaritans had great hostility toward each other — their hearts were hardened. In this story Jesus challenges us to overcome such hardness.    (Celebration, Feb. 2005)

Here Jesus is also ‘breaking down ’gender barriers.’ This person not only comes ‘to know Jesus’ as a prophet and the Messiah, but she goes forth – leaving behind her water jug – to invite others to come and know Jesus.  She acts like an apostle. She illustrates what we are all called to do by our baptism. She is not even deterred by the ‘shameful parts’ of her life – nor is Jesus. It seems that John’s gospel is confirming women’s roles as important ones. (The Cultural World of Jesus Cycle A, John Pilch, 56)

St. Patrick, Surprising Companion for Your Lenten Journey BY: Marni Gillard

St. Patrick


While we celebrate St. Patrick with music, dancing, corned beef, cabbage and beer, it’s good to know the conversion of body and soul that marked the teenaged Patrick forever as a follower of Christ.

Patricius, the Latin name given him in Roman-ruled Great Britain, marked him as an aristocratic boy. He tells in a letter he wrote late in his life, “My father was Calpornius, a deacon of the Church, and my grandfather was Potitus, a priest. His home was in the village, but he also had a country estate nearby.” The young Patrick clearly grew up “churched,” knowing prayers and practices, but according to this letter he had little interest in God, commandments, or other people’s needs. He considered himself agnostic, wanting only to be wild and free. “I was just a teenager, a tongue-tied lad…before I knew what I really wanted, or what I’d be better avoiding.”

Then one night at the family estate, he was awakened by pirates who bound, gagged, and kidnapped him to be sold as a slave across the sea in Ireland. His new master needed a shepherd to spend hours on a cold, rainy or snowy hillside. The boy was fed just enough to survive. The cold and loneliness of his new life brought tears and trembling.

“It was here the Lord touched my unbelieving ways. I thought over my past negligence and then gave my heart and soul to him as my God…He could see for himself how totally mixed up I was, and took pity on me in my immaturity. He kept me out of harm’s way, giving me a bit of confidence, and building me up as only a father can.”

Patrick fasted as a way to come closer to God. He sang psalms and prayers he’d learned in childhood – 100 each morning and again each evening, yearning to reach God’s ear. One night, after 6 long years, he heard in his sleep, “You are doing right by fasting. Soon you will be on your way back to your home country.” He awoke full of hope.

“God used the time to shape and mold me into something better – someone different from what I once was, someone who can care about others and work to help them. Before I was a slave, I didn’t even care about myself.”

Soon after he heard again, “Go your boat is waiting.” He had no idea where to go but walked about 200 miles. “I went in the power of God who led me in the right path every step of the way, so that I was afraid of nothing and at last found that boat…I was undeserving, but God was so generous in his grace.”

He did find his way home and began studies for the priesthood. Years later he heard a different dream-like voice asking, “Holy Boy, come back to us.”  As one, the Irish people were summoning him back to share his faith. He had learned of forgiveness and desired nothing more than to return to teach about God the Father, God’s son, and the Holy Spirit who had been his guide.

Great lessons for Lent, whatever your age.

Freeman, Philip. ST. Patrick of Ireland: A Biography. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2004.

McCormack, C M. St Patrick: The Real Story as Told in His Own Words. Dublin: Columba Press, 2008.

2nd Sunday of Lent, cycle A

The Gospel – Matthew 17: 1-9

Mountaintops have often been symbols for peak spiritual experiences. Moses, the freeing lawgiver, and Elijah, the wonder-working prophet, met God on Mt.Sinai or Mt.Horeb (two names for the same mountain). At Sinai the Hebrew people had been wanderers who lived in tents. A tent became the Ark of the Covenant, a symbol of God’s sheltering presence in the wilderness.  As they traveled, God went with them, a cloud by day and fire by night (Exodus 40). The booths that Peter wants to build symbolize this sheltering presence of God.  (Sunday by Sunday, Feb. 28, 1999 from Good Ground Press )

Is your experience of God’s presence this Lent more like a mountaintop or a journey through a valley – or desert – a cloud?  What does it mean to you to have God’s favor rest on Jesus – on us?

All of Lent is about either preparing for baptism or learning to live our baptism more fully. We are called to listen to Jesus – to journey with our God – to grow in holiness. All of this will mean a share in God’s glory – God’s own life, but it will also mean an embrace of suffering.  Through baptism we all share in the life of the glorified Christ.  This life is the blessing of holiness, promised to Abraham by God and made possible through the transformative grace of Jesus’ suffering and death.

From Living Liturgy, Year A, p.68:

Christian living is about being touched by Jesus so that the fleeting moments of glory are made permanent in bettering the lives of others.  ‘Coming down from the mountain’ may be a metaphor for the need to take up the ministry of Jesus. Listening to Jesus and being touched by him should draw us outside of ourselves – and our ‘comfort zones.’ We don’t build tents: we feed the hungry, cloth the naked, touch the downhearted, visit the lonely, encourage the discouraged, etc. In this way Christ touches others through us. This kind of living is eminently practical and requires a real and constant dying to self. Why do we try to live this way? Because we have great hope in the outcome: helping to create a better world here (God’s kingdom) and forever.

Consider the following paradoxes:

1) The account of the Transfiguration is sandwiched between two predictions of his passion and death.

2) Peter, James, and John were also the three who were with Jesus in Gethsemane.

3) Jesus tells his disciples not to mention this vision until after his suffering.

The image of Christ transfigured is that of Christ being glorified after the suffering and death. 

How do you understand what is called the paschal mystery?

Here are some thoughts from Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing:

The paschal mystery is the mystery of how we, after undergoing some kind of death, receive new life and new spirit. Jesus, in both his teaching and in his life, showed us a clear paradigm for how this should happen. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies it yields a rich harvest.” (John 12:24) These words of Jesus define the paschal mystery: namely, in order to come to fuller life and spirit we must constantly be letting go of present life and spirit. Terminal death is a death that ends life and ends possibilities. Paschal death is a death that, while ending one kind of life, opens the person undergoing it to receive a deeper and richer form of life.

Daily we undergo this paschal mystery.

In more colloquial language it is this:

1. Name your deaths (Good Friday).

2. Claim your births (Easter).

3. Grieve what you have lost and adjust to the new reality (the 40 days after Easter).

4. Do not cling to the old; let it ascend and give you its blessing (Ascension).

5. Accept the spirit of the life that you are in fact living (Pentecost).  (The Holy Longing, pp. 145-148)

Have you ever experienced a transfiguration? Have you ever seen a plain girl become a radiant beauty when she is seen through the eyes of love? Have you ever seen a timid, ordinary person become a ‘lion’, a hero, when someone was in need of help? Have you ever noticed a homely face become remarkably attractive as they share their enthusiasm for something they love? Have you ever met someone who appeared to be rather ordinary only to discover how extraordinary they really are? Have you ever felt tired, discouraged, and alone only to quietly, but deeply begin to feel God’s presence and care? Afterwards, you can’t really doubt that it was from God, even though you may still not understand it. These experiences may help us to understand a little better the gospel experience. For a moment  the three disciples experience Jesus in the complete union with God that he is.

It was a short vision of how things really are at their core. Yet, Jesus will go on to suffer. The Transfiguration was one way to show that Jesus’ suffering would not negate his divinity. Suffering is not foreign to the Father or to Jesus. (John Foley, S.J. “Spirituality of the Readings,” )

In a culture where honor and shame were everything, this story confirms to Jesus’ followers that no matter how shamefully he may be treated by the ‘powers of this world’ his very being is filled with God’s goodness and glory. It is in this truth, this reality, that Jesus steadfastly trusted. His faith and trust paid off: God restored to him his ultimate true honor in a way that no human ever could have. The crucified one was the one God raised from the dead. In our very different culture, where self-reliance is highly valued, it is equally challenging to trust God especially when we feel we are to be fully in control of our life and destiny. We, too, must realize that our hope also resides in the faithful love of our God who is with us in good times and bad. (John Pilch, “Historical Cultural Context,” )

The disciples are asked not to talk about this experience, this vision. It is only in the light of the Resurrection that they will begin to understand the whole truth about Jesus. The crucifixion will be a scandal that is only be undone by the shining light of the resurrected Jesus offering to all his peace. (Share the Word, Feb. 28, 1999)

Open Ourselves to Christ By: Kristine Rooney

RCIA 2014 catechumens

This is the theme of Lent for us at our parish this year.  What a beautiful thought – to open the door and allow Christ to enter into our lives.  It’s a brave thought.  It takes guts to put ourselves out there and see what happens.  And that’s exactly what our catechumens are doing.  Being brave.

Meet Jessica, Chris and Jason.  It you see them in church, say hi!  They have been going to RCIA sessions  (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, or the process of being baptized and confirmed into the Catholic church as an adult) every week, learning about this faith of ours.  They’ve had lots of questions, and lots of their own insights.  They’ve been journal-ing personal reflections on the topics we cover.  This journey is personal.  They are creating their own friendships with God, and we are blessed as a parish to witness it  (I apologize for the blurry picture; this is when they were first welcomed at Mass in January.).

They are opening themselves to Christ.  In the fall, they had no idea what lay before them.  They had a desire.  They wanted something more in their lives.  They wanted to find more meaning.  Doesn’t Christ lead us to all of this?  He does when we allow Him – when we are open to it – which is what they are doing.  They are an example for all of us.

It’s funny that those who are just beginning to understand the mysteries of our faith could be the example for us who may be “weathered” Catholics.  I went through the RCIA process myself 19 years ago, but every session we meet I learn something new or see something in a new way.  We never have it all figured out.  Christ calls us deeper and deeper into relationship with Him.

If you receive a prayer card today, or if you notice them in a basket in the back of church, please check it out.  There is a prayer of openness on one side, and intercessions on the other.  You will see our catechumens listed there.  Please pray for them among the other intentions.  Everyone is welcome to come to our RCIA sessions as well.  Through Lent, we will meet:

  • 3/11 on The Cross and the Paschal Mystery
  • 3/18 on Salvation
  • 3/25 on Morality and Decision Making
  • 4/1 on Mission and Stewardship
  • 4/8 on The Triduum

If you are interested in being baptized and/or confirmed as an adult yourself, or if you would like to know more about this wonderful faith of ours, please ask for me in the parish office.  I’d love to chat with you.   Be brave, and open yourself to Christ!

No Worrying!

Father Bob’s homily from Sunday…


Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time A


“Do not worry about your life.”  “Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?”  “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.”  Aren’t those wonderful and comforting words from Jesus?  Wouldn’t it be nice if we believed them?

I know I have a hard time believing it.  I still let worry get the best of me.  I am still thinking of what might go wrong.  I try to sleep but I have budget numbers in my head, a leak in the roof and what to preach about today whirring inside of me.  Even when I feel powerless over what worries me, I would rather hang on to it than give it up.  I have a hard time just letting it go and surrendering it to the God who feeds the birds of the air and…

View original post 853 more words