2026 Homilies on Homilies & Thoughts

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 12 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The Lord’s parable and his stated reason for speaking in parables are mutually illuminating. Which is to say, the parable draws us into the logic of parables and reveals their purpose. A parable is not a mere story or a moral lesson. It is an invitation to step inside a symbolic world and meditate. Every object within the symbolic cosmos is polyvalent and saturated with meaning. Understanding, then, is not reducible to “figuring out the message,” as if one were solving a puzzle. Understanding is discovered through participation in the parable.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 05 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A person who tells a lie must carry the weight of both the truth and the lie. First comes the story. Then comes the detail that has to match the story. Then more details. The mind has to work faster than the conversation constructing a more and more elaborate façade.

Jesus knows that hidden labor. He uses the word “burdened,” a verb. We are actively being weighed down and carrying something. He is speaking about the work of carrying the weight that stays with a person after a choice has been made. It is what stays with us after the moment has passed.

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 28 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The first reading places us in the home of a woman in Shunem who recognizes Elisha as a holy man of God. She urges him to dine with her, and then, seeing his frequent travels, she and her husband prepare and furnish a small room for him on the roof. In this simple but deliberate act, she makes space in her home for the servant of God, and in doing so, she makes room for God himself.

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 21 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The Lord’s words first sound like a message of comfort to the disciples: “Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known.” The Twelve needed that reassurance. Jesus had sent them out to preach the Good News, but their mission had not been easy. They encountered rejection. People spoke against them, mocked them, and even accused them of being in league with evil spirits. In the face of those attacks, Jesus tells them not to be afraid. The truth will not remain hidden forever. The lies spoken against them will be exposed, and God’s justice will prevail.

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 14 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0000

“Without cost you have received.” The words of the Lord seem so clear. The Gospel is free. Salvation is free. Yet we have slowly allowed ourselves to believe something else. The world and its ideas have taken root in many hearts. Many people have come to think that we somehow purchase the faith.

I saw this in a parish not long ago. It was not our parish. Difficult but important changes were introduced, and some people were unhappy. Tensions rose enough that the diocese had to send in others to listen and help bring healing. In the aftermath of those meetings, I saw some of the feedback on social media. One comment struck me: “Why don’t we let the market decide? Each parish can do what it wants, and the money will pick the winner.”

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

Sun, 07 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A grain of wheat looks almost weightless in the hand. It is small enough to be overlooked and dismissed. Yet inside that small thing, God has hidden a path from from human hunger to eternal life.

One of the great tragedies of modern life is that we have learned to see creation as flat. A tree is wood and leaves. Water is a chemical substance. Useful things, perhaps beautiful things, but sealed off from any deeper purpose or meaning. The world becomes a collection of facts, and we become people who know how to use things without knowing how to see them truly and experience them.

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

Sun, 31 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

To forget a face is to lose more than a memory. The face mediates relationship. It puts flesh on the spirit. To forget a face is to lose a relationship. It is to lose love.

When sin entered the human story, the face of God grew dim in us. We had been made in his image, made to reflect the living communion of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The image remained, because God does not abandon his own work, but the likeness became blurred. Choosing our own will over the will of God, we lost sight of the One we were made to resemble. Once God’s face became harder to see, humanity itself became harder to understand.

Pentecost

Sun, 24 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A locked door seems like wisdom when fear has taken hold. The disciples know danger. The crucifixion is still fresh in their minds. Every noise outside could mean discovery. So they stay behind the door, and for a little while the room feels safe. But the longer they remain there, the more that safety will consume and claim them.

Then the risen Christ appears. He stands in the middle of the room, among men who know they are weak. They had scattered when courage was needed. Out of anxiety that it would come for them, they could not watch while evil did its work. Now the Lord stands before them, with the marks of the cross still on his body. He does not speak to their fear.

Pentecost - Vigil Mass

Sat, 23 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

“Manifesting” has become one of the favored words of our age, wrapped in glossy promises of a better life. The idea is simple enough: concentrate desire until the universe somehow bends toward it. It treats longing almost like a tool. Aim it hard enough, and it may deliver what the heart has chosen.

At Pentecost, the Church places before us a different kind of longing. Jesus stands at the height of the feast and cries out, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink.” He begins with the kind of need everyone understands. Thirst is desire at its strongest. When a person is truly thirsty, the whole body is focused on a simple fact: without water, life vanishes.

The Ascension of the Lord

Sun, 17 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

St. Matthew lets the number stand in the open. The disciples climb the mountain in Galilee, and there are only eleven of them. Eleven. A wounded number.

For most of the Gospel, Jesus has walked with the twelve. They were the visible sign of a new Israel, the first stones of a renewed people, the beginning of a Church meant to gather the whole human family into the love of God. Now one place is empty. Judas is gone, and Matthew does not hide that absence. Before the risen Lord sends the Church to the nations, the Church stands before him incomplete.

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Sun, 10 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Absence can reveal the truth. While someone stands near us, the meaning of that life often remains scattered through ordinary days. We remember a gesture without grasping the love behind it. We hear a sentence and only later feel its full weight. After departure, the pieces begin to gather. Death, and even the approach of death, can become a revealing light.

In the quiet of the upper room, Jesus begins to shine that light. The meal is over. The feet of the disciples are still clean from his hands. Judas has slipped into the dark. Jesus remains with his friends, and the hour closing around him will soon make sense of everything he has said and done.

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Sun, 03 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The upper room has the stillness that comes before grief. Jesus has spoken of departure, and the disciples feel the ground shift beneath them. Their daily life has taken shape around his presence. Now the one whose nearness has steadied them speaks as though he will soon be hidden from sight.

That apparent hiddenness is where this Gospel touches us most today. The disciples could look upon the face of Jesus. They could hear his voice without the veil of memory and meet the gaze of the Son who reveals the Father. Their confusion was real, but their privilege seems undeniable. They could see God in the flesh.

St. Joseph the Worker

Fri, 01 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

I think we all recognize that the incarnation—God becoming man—is God’s free choice. He decides to do that. Nothing compelled him or coerced him. But I do not think we always appreciate some of the consequences of that choice. Not only does he freely choose to become man; he also chooses of whom he becomes man.

He chooses the Blessed Virgin Mary. He did not have to. And in choosing her, he chooses the situation in which she lives. God could have chosen to be born among the royalty of the world. He could have been born the son of a king and lived that life. He could have been born into the leisure classes, among those who do not have to work.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Sun, 26 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

There is a kind of noise that does not merely fill a room. It takes possession of it. Leave a television running long enough, keep the phone close enough, let the commentary pour in day after day, and the soul begins to change. The noise takes root. What was once a stranger begins to sound familiar, it begins to sound like the truth.

That is the danger Jesus calls out on this Good Shepherd Sunday. The stranger does not always sound strange at first. He may sound like courage itself. But his voice carries a hidden deception. It pulls the sheep away from the gate and into places where the heart grows suspicious and hardens.

Third Sunday of Easter

Sun, 19 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Several years ago, when I bought a car, I did everything carefully. I researched the options, compared features, went on test drives, talked to other owners, and slowly narrowed it down until I found exactly what I wanted. Then I bought it, drove it home, and before long I had the same thought everyone eventually has: it was good, but something was missing. There was some feature I wished it had, some improvement I could already imagine.

Divine Mercy Sunday

Sun, 12 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A room can be crowded and still feel empty. The disciples are together, but the room feels hollow. The doors are locked and the news of the resurrection has not yet settled their hearts. They are afraid, but something deeper is wrong. They have stepped back from the very work for which the Lord chose them, and so they have stepped away from themselves.

That is why the peace of Christ does not come as a vague comfort. It comes as a summons. He enters the room they sealed off in fear and speaks the words they most need to hear: “Peace be with you.” Then he does more than calm them. He shows them his wounded body. He sends them as the Father sent him. He breathes his Spirit upon them. He entrusts them with the work of mercy and reconciliation. Peace arrives together with mission.

Easter Sunday

Sun, 05 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

There is a way fear tightens a person. The hand closes. The shoulders draw in. We guard and hold back. That is how much of the world has learned to live. If this life is all there is, then everything must be seized now. If death is the final horizon, then of course people grasp and claw and wound one another trying to secure a little safety, a little control before the darkness comes.

Easter Vigil

Sat, 04 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The Church has lingered long tonight beside the works of God. We have listened as the great story unfolded: the beauty of the first creation, the wound of our fall, the ache of exile, the call of Abraham, the deliverance through the sea, the voice of the prophets, the promises spoken again and again to a people who could not remain faithful for long. The pattern was painfully familiar. God gave. Man squandered. God called. Man wandered. God rescued. Man returned to dust and disobedience. And then, in the fullness of time, God sent his Son.

Good Friday

Fri, 03 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Evil usually does not look obviously evil. It does not wear a sign and announce itself as such. It usually arrives in compromised hearts and the quiet surrender of courage. Good Friday forces us to confront that.

The Passion according to John does not present a stage crowded with cartoon villains. Pilate is weak and calculating, yet he is not blind. He knows Jesus is innocent. He sees the malice and envy around him. He senses that something holy stands before him. Still, he yields. The empire presses on him. The crowd presses on him. His own desire to preserve himself presses on him most of all. And so a man who can still recognize justice and truth refuses to act in defense of them. That is how evil works its way into history.

Holy Thursday

Thu, 02 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0000

When I was a kid, WWJD was everywhere—bracelets, t-shirts, billboards. “What would Jesus do?” I never cared for it. It was a bad question. Jesus would walk on water, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead. I was not going to do that. A better question, a concrete and real question is, “What does Jesus want me to do,” WDJWMTD. That would look silly on a t-shirt. But that is okay. The Lord is not a slogan or an abstract ideal. He is a living person who speaks to us and loves us.

Palm Sunday

Sun, 29 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The road into Jerusalem begins with cheers and ends at Golgotha with mockery, blood, and a dying man. The crowd can welcome a king while they still imagine victory in familiar terms. They can cry, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” while picturing strength and the swift defeat of enemies. But when this king refuses the path of spectacle and force, many hearts turn. The same city that rejoices at his arrival will soon look upon him beaten, condemned, and hanging on a tree, and many will decide that he has failed. They notice his suffering. But they do not recognize his throne.

Fifth Sunday in Lent

Sun, 22 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

There is something almost painful in this scene. Jesus is told that his friend is gravely ill. He loves this family. He has power to heal. And still he waits. To Martha and Mary, that delay must have felt like silence. To anyone watching from the outside, it can even look heartless. But the delay belongs to the love.

Had the Lord gone at once, Lazarus would have been healed. Bethany would have rejoiced. Tears would have dried. But Lazarus would not have become what he now becomes: a witness. He would have remained a man restored to health. Instead, he becomes a man carried through death and brought back by the voice of God. He enters the place where every family must one day surrender someone they love, and from there he returns. In Lazarus, the Lord gives more than relief. He gives a sign that death itself has met its Master.

Fourth Sunday in Lent

Sun, 15 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A difficult thing happens, and the human heart begins its familiar work. It starts searching for a cause, a guilty party. Someone must have done something. Someone must deserve this. That instinct appears almost immediately in the Gospel. The disciples see a man blind from birth, and before they see a neighbor, they see a problem to be explained. Before they see suffering, they begin assigning fault.

Jesus refuses that path. He says, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.” With that sentence, he turns the whole scene. He pulls his disciples away from blame and toward mercy. He teaches them, and he teaches us, that suffering is not an invitation to sit in judgment. It is an invitation to let God act.

Third Sunday in Lent

Sun, 08 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Noon is a harsh hour. The sun is straight overhead. Shadows shrink. Nothing is softened. At Jacob’s well, a woman comes carrying her water jar and, without knowing it, carrying something heavier: a life she has learned to explain and excuse. Her history is no secret in that town. And Jesus’ knowledge of her is not a surprise. What surprises is the change in her: in the presence of Jesus, she begins to see herself clearly.

Second Sunday in Lent

Sun, 01 Mar 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Despite biblical precedent, a mountain is an odd place for a revelation. The air is thin, the ground uneven, and the climb tiring. Jesus chooses height and solitude, as if he wants his friends to feel, in their bodies, how much they rely on him. Then the veil lifts. The apostles glimpse a beauty too intense for ordinary eyes, the kind that makes knees buckle and words fail.

And beside him stand Moses and Elijah. They are often described as the law and the prophets, a way of saying that Israel’s whole story points toward Christ. Which is true. Yet the scene also speaks to the human heart. Moses and Elijah look like us.

First Sunday in Lent

Sun, 22 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Anyone who has tried to choose a restaurant with friends knows the tension it can create. Options multiply, nobody wants to impose, and minutes vanish. So much energy for a decision forgotten before the bill is paid.

Meanwhile, the choices that shape a life can receive only hurried attention. A decision to forgive or to stay bitter. To speak honestly or to hide. Around those moments, voices multiply. Advice comes from friends, family, headlines, and the constant hum of opinion. Even the good voices carry some fog, because sin has dimmed God’s light in the world and made our own beauty harder to recognize.

Ash Wednesday

Wed, 18 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Today is about remembering death. We should not mince words. That is what it is about. We rub ashes on our heads and hear, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” It is inescapable. We will die. Technology will not save us. Science will never stop it. We will die. And when we die, we will be judged. We will stand before an infinite, perfect being and he will weigh our life against his—against his life as revealed in his Son. There will be no excuses. There will be no grey areas. There will be no secrets. He knows the inmost depths of our minds and hearts. There will simply be the sum total of our choices. What will he say to us? “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Or will he say, “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire?” What he says in that moment is all that matters. It is all that matters. Live accordingly.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 15 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Most evenings are not dramatic. They are ordinary: the same rooms, the same chores, the same tiredness, and the small frictions that appear when two lives share one home. Many of the Lord’s hard teachings can be attempted at a distance—one generous act, one patient response, and then we slip away to quieter company. Marriage is different. It places love in the same room, day after day, and trains the heart in the quiet courage of staying.

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 08 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

N.B. This weekend was the annual Bishop’s Appeal.

Picture a small clay lamp on a rough table in a Galilean home. It is not a sealed lantern with glass and metal. It is an open flame, steady and exposed, giving light as long as it is fed. Jesus says, “Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket,” and the image lands with force in a world where fire is never merely decorative. A basket over a flame does not simply hide the glow. It catches fire, it smolders, it collapses into ash.

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 01 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Most of us learned the faith with a checklist in hand. Do not lie. Do not steal. Do not harm. Those commandments matter. They guard human dignity and teach what love refuses to do.

But a Christian cannot live only by asking where the line is. When the heart is trained to look for the minimum, it begins to treat God like a strict referee, watching for a foot out of bounds. That mindset shrinks the spiritual life into anxiety, as if holiness were mainly the art of avoiding mistakes.

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sun, 25 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

News travels fast when a prophet is taken away. John had been preaching in the rough country across the Jordan, telling the truth plainly to the man who held power. Herod Antipas tried to solve a moral problem by putting the messenger in chains. The arrest was meant to end the noise; instead it became the spark that set everything in motion.

The moment Jesus hears of John’s imprisonment, he does something that looks, at first glance, like retreat. He leaves the wilderness and heads to Galilee. Yet Galilee is not a safe hiding place. It is Herod’s territory. Jesus steps straight into the same domain that just proved it is willing to silence God’s word.

Called by Name Weekend

Sat, 17 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

At the request of the bishop, I want to share with you the story of how the Lord led me to this altar—not because my story is the pattern for everyone, but because it is one example of how patiently God can pursue a heart.

I was not born Catholic. In my earliest years, my family raised me in the Episcopal Church, and that is where I was baptized. Later, as the Episcopal Church continued along its present trajectory, we left. We went to a Southern Baptist church, and I spent more years as a Baptist than anything else.

The Baptism of the Lord

Sun, 11 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

At the edge of the Jordan, there is a line of ordinary people stepping down into the water—tired, hopeful, carrying secrets, searching for a new beginning. John stands there, calling hearts to turn back to God. Then Jesus arrives. Not as a spectator. Not as a judge. He walks into the same river, into the same current, into the same place where sinners are admitting they need mercy.

John recoils, because he recognizes the truth: Jesus has no sin to wash away. He has no stain that needs cleansing. Yet Jesus does not keep himself at a safe distance from the human condition. He chooses nearness. He chooses solidarity. He chooses to take on the weight of humanity—not because he is forced, but because love is never afraid to step into another person’s burden.

Epiphany

Sun, 04 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

If you grew up in a world where faith was stitched into your bloodline—your clan, your language, your land—this story would sound almost unbelievable.

A caravan arrives from the east: learned men, court advisers, readers of the skies. Not Israelites. Not worshipers of the God of Abraham. Astrologers—outsiders—men whose practices many in Jerusalem would have distrusted or dismissed. And yet they come with aching purpose, asking for a Jewish king they have never met, guided by a sign they can barely explain. Their whole journey can be summed up in one sentence: “We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” That line is the shock of Epiphany.

Mary, Mother of God

Thu, 01 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000

2026 began with the same homily I preached at the beginning of 2025. I have changed assignments since then, so it was new to my current parish. It is not my most well crafted homily, by any means, but it is one of my favorites. May the Mother of God bless you all this new year.