We have been sung throughout all of history
Called to be light to the whole human race
Gather us in, the rich and the haughty
Gather us in, the proud and the strong
Give us a heart so meek and so lowly
Give us the courage to enter the song

“Gather Us In” by Marty Haugen is a hymn that in some circles is surprisingly controversial.  While I believe it speaks to our hearts as well as, if not better, than most, it is not considered to be a traditional hymn that encourages lofty praise to God but is instead centered on the community itself.  It is about bringing all people together in a way that embodies its message for us to enter as one.  It is also a hymn that always makes me smile for an irreverent reason.

One line that always makes me smile is: “Gather us in, the rich and the haughty.” As any pastor knows, resources are ‘never enough’ and I love to joke that, because of an upcoming special collection, we are especially welcoming the rich and the haughty!  The fact of the matter is however, that the rich and the haughty are invited because by their participation they will have a heart transformed in such a way that they will identify with ‘the lost and forsaken... the blind and the lame.’  It is a world where there are no gates locking us out or barriers keeping us away from each other.  This is as difficult as it sounds.  Only a heart so meek and so lowly will have the courage to enter the song.

Jesus invites us to enter a new song of sorts, a parable.  This weekend we hear the story proclaimed of the Rich Man and Lazarus.  In the Gospel we meet ‘another’ Lazarus, a poor beggar who is first seen outside the gates of a rich man.  This barrier was both physical and social.  If he were a leper, the barrier would be enforced on religious and medical grounds.

Lazarus is seen as suffering greatly while the nameless rich man lives life with abundance and joy.  When the beggar dies, however, he is rewarded and when the rich man follows him into death he is kept out by a new type of gate. A chasm will separate them both and now the wealthy man is in pain and misery while Lazarus is welcomed into the home of Father Abraham.  Their roles are reversed. Lazarus enjoys luxury while the nameless rich man finds himself in darkness, begging for entry but denied just like he had once denied Lazarus.   

In my imagination, I sometimes wonder if Jesus had someone particular in mind when he told this story. In Luke’s Gospel, the beggar is named Lazarus, while the wealthy man is nameless. In the culture of the time, and unfortunately in our own, it would have been the opposite.  The rich man would be renowned, while the beggar would be renounced! Scripture scholars warn us that we should never confuse the two figures of Lazarus in the Gospel, the other being the brother of Mary and Martha.  The friend of Jesus who will be raised in the Gospel of John is not mentioned in the Gospel of Luke. 

When a biblical figure is known but not mentioned by name, we often discover that the intent is for us to identify as the person and enter into the story as we would enter the song.  I imagine Jesus preparing his dear friend for his passing by jolting him into a new awareness of what it truly means to be His disciple.  Perhaps outside the home of Martha, Mary and their brother was a homeless, nameless beggar whom they ignored.  Before it was too late, as it was for the rich man in the parable, the rich friend of Jesus had an opportunity to make things right and to see the man as a child of Abraham.   

Maybe Jesus had someone else in mind: you and me. This story challenges us to step beyond our gates, to see those we might otherwise ignore or walk over, and to welcome all into our communities of faith with hospitality and love.  We have the opportunity to walk with all whom we are called to see as children of God.

God bless you and may we have the courage to keep “entering the song.”

I would like to add a postscript this week, inviting both our parishes to a special Thursday evening liturgy that will commemorate the life and ministry of Rev. James E. Clark, pastor of Corpus Christi from 2010 until his passing in 2015. I always looked up to and respected Fr. Jim, first knowing him when he served as a manager of the Diocese’s Pastoral Center, where my father also thought the world of him. He was a man of faith, integrity, and courageous vision.

Fr. Jim had a profound influence on Fr. Matthew Duclos, who will join us as Main Celebrant and Homilist for this Memorial Mass in honor of his friend and mentor.  Fr. Marty and I, as well as visiting clergy, will celebrate with the community.

The 10th Anniversary Memorial Mass for Rev. James E. Clark will be celebrated Thursday, October 2nd at 6:00 PM at Corpus Christi Church, Round Lake.

A light reception will follow immediately after the liturgy.

Jesus said to his disciples,

"A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property.

He summoned him and said, 'What is this I hear about you?

Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.'

The steward said to himself, 'What shall I do, now that my master

 is taking the position of steward away from me?

I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg.

I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, 

they may welcome me into their homes.'”  Luke 16:1-4

I hope you are welcoming me into your homes, or perhaps joining friends and neighbors at church, as you read my blog this week. The parable of the steward who squandered his master’s property (and all the riches it represents) is one that we easily remember because there is an unexpected twist at the end of the story: The man about to be fired is actually commended by his master for his deceitful solution.  The disappointed employer now sees some ingenuity on the part of the one who disappointed and angered him.  We can relate to the observation, ‘There’s more to this guy than I thought!”

The steward settles accounts with the rich man’s debtors, essentially fixing the books, in order to endear himself to them. In doing so, he cheats the man who is owed the money, though there is a theory that he may have reduced some of the padding he was taking for himself. Under pressure, he shows ingenuity. I wonder if those benefitting might see this as a scheme and actually distrust him for these actions, so one might say it did not accomplish what the steward might have thought as a way of ingratiating himself into their lives. Ironically, while it doesn’t say he got his job back, the master would commend him and in some way reward him for being, on the surface, devious.

For whatever his motivation, I love the phrase that propelled the ‘squandering servant’ into action: “I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg.” I can relate!  It reminds me of a young priest I served with as a seminarian in Baltimore. He used to say with a grin: “These hands are made for chalices, not callouses.”

On a deeper level, I can also relate as someone who may have squandered blessings entrusted to me. I may not be alone in recognizing those times. Have I squandered time by being overcome by anxiety and worry, even obsessing over things that were out of my control?  How much more productive would I have been if I handed those problems over to God in prayer! Perhaps some of my concerns need to be handed back to the master who will not only take care of the matter but take care of me in the process.  In my prayer and in my ministry, I have often squandered opportunities that would have made me a better person and a better priest.

As I write this reflection, I am on my way to a priest retreat. These days are meant to revitalize the clergy, to help us reclaim and renew our gifts and support one another in our ministry, so that we do not squander what God has entrusted to us. Even in the midst of a priest and parishioner shortage as well as depleted resources in other areas, we are reminded that God has given us the gifts we need if we use them wisely and prayerfully.  The retreat is meant to strengthen us clergy in many ways in order to provide for our people more effectively and spiritually. 

Saint Paul echoes this in his first letter to Timothy: “First of all, I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and for all in authority, that we may lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity.” (1 Tim 2:1-2)

Paul’s beautiful passage from his letter to Timothy reminds us that first and foremost we need to be a people of prayer.  We are called to reach out spiritually to all of God’s people with a concern that extends past those with whom we love or agree.  Ultimately, we are all part of the same family and as with every family we need to be there for others, especially when one of us is at risk.

Our second reading concludes with these words: “It is my wish, then, that in every place the (people) should pray, lifting up holy hands, without anger or argument.” (1 Tim 2:8) In a world in which we are so deeply and painfully divided, may we never squander the love that God has for all of us by restricting where and to whom we will share this essential part of what it means to be a true disciple.

God bless you all.  May we lift up our hands in prayers, even when they appear less than holy, perhaps even a little dirty.  The master will make us clean when we allow God to take back what truly belongs to Him, our very lives.

 “Lift high the cross, the love of Christ proclaim
till all the world adore his sacred name.”

The hymn, “Lift High the Cross” by George Kitchin, best known from our Good Friday celebration resonates with The Exaltation of the Holy Cross, a Feast of the Lord which is considered so important that it supersedes the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time.  Commonly called ‘The Triumph of the Cross’ the 14th of November commemorates a military success in which the raised Cross led the solders into battle much like the Staff of Moses brought a people out of slavery.   Its significance is much more, we are reminded that the cross provides a message of salvation and hope in difficult, sometimes perilous times.

It is interesting that we do not celebrate the Triumph Over the Cross, but the Triumph OF the Cross. The first phrase might feed into our understanding of those “crosses” in our lives that weigh us down and seem to cause rather than alleviate our suffering. Actually the Cross is not a cause of the pain but a remedy for it.  It has actually been described as an antidote to the miseries and pain of this life, while a prescription for the next.  The Cross of Christ conquers sin and death. It is the yoke laid upon our shoulders that, rather than crushing us, gives us the strength to withstand the hardships of the world. The Cross actually lifts us higher and becomes an emblem of victory, not defeat.

In a world full of so much despair, suffering, and loss, the Cross still shines. Often those who have carried the heaviest crosses become the greatest witnesses of hope. Pope Leo recently reminded us that in a world darkened by war and injustice, it is often the migrants and refugees, those who carry great burdens, who “stand as messengers of hope.  Their courage and tenacity bear heroic testimony to a faith that sees beyond what our eyes can see and gives them the strength to defy death.”

Similarly, our two newest saints were bearers of their crosses in such a way that they have inspired all people, especially the youth.  Originally planned as two separate celebrations, they were recognized together after the death of Pope Francis and their joint elevation actually added to the poignancy of the occasions.  Saint Carlo Acutis is known as “God’s Influencer” in the way that he used social media to spread the Good News and was at the forefront of introducing new generations to Eucharistic Miracles.  Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati has inspired youth movements for decades through his works of charity and love of the great outdoors.  His holistic approach, especially in living out the Beatitudes, was spiritual but down to earth as well.

Saint Carlo was born in 1991 in London, raised in Milan and died at the age of 15 from a rare form of leukemia.  Saint Pier was born ninety years earlier in Turin, Italy at the turn of the century and died at the age of 24 because of the polio he contracted while the poor.  Neither were martyrs in the traditional sense but they bore their hardships with joy and enthusiasm, inspiring others to live out their faith even in the midst of uncertainty and struggle.  These modern saints are true heroes and remind us carrying our crosses with love can inspire others on their faith journey.
Often we put our saints literally and figuratively on pedestals, but the humanity that shines in Saints Carlo and Pier reminds us of the humanity of Christ which is at the heart of our understanding of the Cross and why we exalt the One who humbled Himself.  The Church beautifully captures this message in the choice of our second reading from St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians which is often described as a hymn. It is not just that it is poetic, but its message rings in our ears as a true song.  I’ll conclude rather than begin with this Scripture message and let us never forget to continue on our journey, knowing the One who leads us also understands and loves us.  God bless you!

“Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.
Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness;
and found human in appearance, he humbled himself,
becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.
Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name
that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”  (Philippians 2:6-11)

Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, ‘This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.’

Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:25–33)

As I was preparing my blog for this weekend, I was also preparing to attend a memorial service for a dear friend and mentor, Sr. Francesca Husselbeck, a Sister of Mercy, who died this past January, less than a week after my priest friend Fr. Tom Holmes also passed. Because her funeral was in the midst of winter, the communities she served so faithfully in the North Country decided to remember her on her birthday, September 2nd.

When I first arrived in Northern Warren County after serving as an associate for other pastors, I was overwhelmed by the number of communities that I was asked to serve.  At that time, they had until recent years been served by multiple priests. I could not have managed my new role without forming a true partnership with Sr. Fran. We worked together for seven years. When she discerned that travel and health concerns were leading her toward retirement, I felt great apprehension, especially when the Diocese decided that perhaps it was time for us both to leave.  The thought was the parishes would adjust to a new team and I was ready for my second assignment as a pastor.

That first significant move as pastor from one place to another was nothing short of traumatic!  I would later find that every set of parishes have been a blessing to serve and each always difficult to leave.  When I hear this Gospel I am struck by how much my people, wherever I have served, have always become family to me.  Some may have embraced me as a favored son, some as an annoying cousin, but I have always felt like through good times and bad, sickness and health, we have been family.

Leaving behind a family to serve another strikes me as being at the the heart of this week’s Gospel message.   It reminds me that discipleship sometimes means leaving behind family for the sake of the next chapter in our lives. Surely many are struggling with such transitions today.  Think of parents watching their newly adult children leave for college, a career or military service.  Think of the young people themselves knowing it’s time to move on but being filled with apprehension and fear.  Discipleship in every form manifests sacrifice.  Still, if we are truly disciples we never fully leave our family, we gain new members.

Our second reading this week is from St. Paul’s letter to Philemon and at the end of his life.  As much as he misses so many people now he is imprisoned, he has found a new companion, Onesimus who has ties to both men   Philemon’s former slave has become a true friend to Paul who has converted him.  Now Paul is asking for him to accept Onesimus back in his life, not as a servant but as a true brother.  Family often comes to us in surprising ways.

The name Onesimus means 'useful one’ and that somehow has always amused me.  I wonder if I would take it as a compliment to be thought ‘merely’ as useful.  Still, it’s a humble reminder that discipleship isn’t about grandeur but it is about playing a part as an equal member of the Body of Christ.  We truly all are family.

The image of constructing a tower takes on a new meaning if we realize that while we or others before us have laid a foundation, there is no shame in knowing we cannot do it alone.  Despite onlookers who might judge or laugh, perhaps we need to invite those critics into our family to help us get the work done.  God has given us all the resources we need, He just has distributed them to different members of the family.

As a family, we carry not only our own crosses but each other’s.  Let us sit down not as much to calculate but to prayerfully discern how we can move forward in peace and harmony.  God bless you all.  Thank you for being my family.

My child, conduct your affairs with humility,

 and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts.

 Humble yourself the more, the greater you are,

 and you will find favor with God.

 What is too sublime for you, seek not,

 into things beyond your strength search not.

 The mind of a sage appreciates proverbs,

 and an attentive ear is the joy of the wise.

 Water quenches a flaming fire,

 and alms atone for sins. (Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29)

I chose in my blog this week to concentrate first on our first reading from the Book of Sirach because it gives such a beautiful expression of the attitude and disposition of humility.  People naturally appreciate those who are sincerely and genuinely humble.   We have all encountered people who seem excessively reassured and pompous, thinking they were better than others.  Often, we notice that when we or another behave that way, it might actually be shielding insecurities.  Rather than admit our limitations, we overcompensate, often putting ourselves at odds with not only others but our own sense of true self.

The Gospel speaks about humility with stern warnings of the consequences.   Jesus observes people at table vying for the places of honor. He responds with a parable: “When you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:10–11) We even appear to enjoy when the mighty have fallen as if we are somehow better when they are seen at their worst.  We often find scapegoats in our world or society that make us feel better. In short, it seems we feel closer to the top when others are at the bottom.

If we are honest, we have experienced both vantage points.  What bothers me about the Gospel is that I can relate to those times when I have felt not humbled, but humiliated.  To cite a common example, it is often awkward for me after a baptism, wedding or other occasion to stay close by, assuming that people want me in a photograph. I always feel a sense of obligation to be available for pictures but immediately humbled when the invitation doesn’t come my way.  It leads me to question if I had done something wrong or could have done something better.  Once, I was accused of waiting around for a tip!

This past Thursday we celebrated the feast of St. Augustine. He once wrote: “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels.” His insight is still true: pride isolates us, while humility restores our relationships with God and with one another.   The prophet Micah gives us the same wisdom: “What does the Lord require of you but to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8).  We often focus on the importance of justice and mercy, often debating how they can be balanced, but humility is all too often overlooked.

During the Preparation of the gifts, as I am blessed to pour the water into the wine that will soon be consecrated, I say the prayer:  “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.”  If Jesus found it possible to be humble, why, oh why, can’t I?

Pope Francis was infamous for maintaining simplicity in his life and Pope Leo is walking in those same humble footsteps.  Perhaps, it is not that difficult after all.  We all remember the song (at least those my age or better!), made popular by Mac Davis 45 years ago and recorded by Willie Nelson and others: “Oh Lord, it’s hard to be humble, when you’re perfect in every way…”

Let me end with my own prayer:  “Oh Lord, we are far from perfect.  Thank you for making it easier, in every way, to be humble!”  God bless you!

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

Many of us are familiar with the closing line of Robert Frost’s famous poem “The Road Not Taken” and it came to mind while I was reading this week’s challenging Gospel. As we approach the end of Ordinary Time in our liturgical cycle, we are reminded that we must be mindful and deliberate on our spiritual journey. The road less traveled reminds me of the door less taken—the narrow one that Jesus tells us to enter this week.

When Jesus says, “Strive to enter through the narrow door,” (Lk 13:24) he implies that there may be other entry ways, but the preferred one is not necessarily the easiest or the most popular. Some interpret this as suggesting that only a few will truly enter and be saved. He may also be implying that the passage may be challenging and difficult, but it is well worth the journey.

The Gospel sounds as though admission is exclusive, but that is contrasted by Jesus’ image of people coming from “east and west, north and south” to “recline at table in the kingdom of God.” (Lk 13:29) The invitation is for everyone. Perhaps it is less about Jesus turning people away and more about people failing to answer the call to come forward.

When I was in college, I remember a friend who lived a few doors down from my dorm room chiding me for not attending a party he and several roommates hosted He asked, “Why didn’t you show up?” I quickly replied, “I wasn’t invited.” He shot back, “How much of an invitation do you need?” I retorted, “Knowledge of the event!” I thought I had won the argument, but in reality, I hadn’t.

The truth was I had known about the party but, out of a frail ego, I convinced myself that my presence would scarcely be noticed. I stayed away and brooded in my own private pity party rather than join friends who would have welcomed me. Looking back, I realize I had only cheated myself.

There is no mistaking that Jesus is inviting all of us into the Kingdom, even though not all will accept the invitation. As true disciples, we are called to be, in the words of St. Paul, “Ambassadors for Christ,” making sure the invitation is loud and clear. Let no one feel rejected or unworthy. Let us invite all and welcome all, reminding them that the love of God can make all the difference in their lives.

Speaking of ambassadors, I felt like a proud representative of All Saints on the Hudson last weekend as we hosted the truly historic 122nd ‘Festa’ in Mechanicville—the Italian Festival honoring Our Lady of the Assumption. Not only was it an excellent fundraiser, but even more importantly, it was a community and morale builder. I was humbled by the response not only from our parishioners across all of our worship sites, but also from our neighbors, especially those from Corpus Christi and beyond. This feast is a beautiful sign of what it means to come together as one family of faith.

It would be impossible to name all who worked, donated, and gave of themselves, but I must single out Mary Jacobs, who steered the event with dedication and joy, supported by her own family, our parishioners, and the beloved members of the Italian Fraternal Society. The rich history of the IFS with Assumption Church was honored through such commitment, hard work, and prayerful service. To all who labored behind the scenes and in the open, I extend heartfelt thanks. Your efforts made this year’s Festa not only successful, but truly a celebration of faith, family, and tradition.

God bless you all.

Jesus said to his disciples:

 “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!

There is a baptism with which I must be baptized and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished.

Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?

No, I tell you, but rather division.”                                                                                      (Luke 12:49-51)

This week’s Gospel fills me with a great deal of angst, frustration and confusion.  Do I think Jesus came to establish peace on the earth?  Frankly, yes.  It is especially difficult to hear Jesus’ words about division in families which strike painfully close to home for many. How can the same Good Shepherd who offers “Peace I leave you, my peace I give you” also speak about division among our families of origin or choice on whom we rely for comfort and care? Is Jesus promoting conflict?  Perhaps he is preparing us for the tension that arises when people begin to debate, by words or actions, what is truly important to them.  As the saying goes, so many things that aren’t worth fighting for are not worth the price. 

In our world that is already painfully divided and a place where people cannot even decide what is truth, the challenge to accept conflict is extremely difficult.  We try to walk humbly with God, to speak out on what truly matters, but often these attempts of true righteousness devolve into self-righteousness when we proclaim ourselves as judge and jury.  In a world of conflict, we have seen that religion itself often sparks contrary words or actions.  

In the Gospel passage quoted, Jesus is experiencing anguish at the situation before us.  To be in conflict also acknowledges that the stakes are high because of how important all of this truly is.  Perhaps however when Jesus talks about His own baptism by fire, he is reminding us that we too will experience transformation in the same way as “gold that is purified by fire.”

Like fire, people can be consumed by conflict.  This is sharply different from being purified.  When we face the challenges before us and stay true to ourselves and our God, we are called to do so with compassion and care for our brothers and sisters who often require mercy over judgement.  Together we are not ‘defined’ by the tensions before us but ‘refined’ to live our lives with a greater sense of reconciliation and grace. 

To have the courage to fight for our values doesn’t mean it allows us to demonize, belittle or scapegoat people different from ourselves.  To kill someone with kindness may appear tongue in cheek but there is something about having the courage to be a true disciple, caring for others without counting the cost and challenging others to respond with love not hatred.

The spiritual battle in which we all play a part reminds me of the anthem from Man of La Mancha:

“To dream the impossible dream, To fight the unbeatable foe,

To bear with unbearable sorrow, And to run where the brave dare not go…

To reach the unreachable star.”

As Christians, this is our quest: to follow the Son, to march into the world’s fires for a heavenly cause.  Reminding ourselves that we are not truly alone, we are called to invite other pilgrims to join us on the sacred journey. It takes humility, grace, and true hope and faith that by following Jesus’ example, eventually we will find ourselves united.  In the meantime, may God’s love, which conquers all things, also conquer the strife and division that touch our lives.  God bless you!

As I write these words, we are joyfully anticipating an incredible success for All Saints on the Hudson’s Festa this weekend in honor of Our Lady of the Assumption.  This amazing event unites our parish family with the wider community and our neighboring parishes, including Corpus Christi. The time, energy, and loving dedication given by so many in planning, preparing, and hosting has been phenomenal.

This celebration comes on the heels of other beautiful endeavors, such as our Vacation Bible School, the Sleep in Heavenly Peace fundraisers and bed-building for children in need, and the recent Men’s Conference.

I am truly blessed to witness the work of the Holy Spirit alive and thriving in our midst, and grateful to journey with you during this season of loving service and enduring grace.

God bless you all!

 “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for, and evidence of things not seen. Because of it the ancients were well attested.”  (Heb 11:1)

The opening verses of this week’s second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews beautifully sums up the message to the early Christians who were beginning to doubt.  We can equally relate to those moments when faith seems fleeting or we are so caught up with what concerns us that we lose our sense of trust.  True faith is the result of maintaining hope even in the midst of life’s challenges.  It is not about specific aspects of our faith but more about trusting in God to stand by us as the ancient prophets and religious leaders found.

Our first reading from the Book of Wisdom is a reminder that God was with the People of Israel even as they took flight from their captors in Egypt.  This is complimented in the retelling of Abraham and Sarah’s faith journey which follows in the Letter to the Hebrews.  In both cases, there were moments of doubt and despair but ultimately God was with them.  In hindsight, we can easily think that they should have hoped more and trusted in God, yet it might be said that we too are very much like them in the midst of our own struggles. 

As a community, we continue to pray for all those whose hope may be dashed and who fear the future.  In contrast, God is always there, especially for those most at risk. Through our prayers and by our compassion we can help those most vulnerable in our society to not lose their trust that God will help us to overcome adversities that come our way. Let us not lose faith in God or in each other.

Our Gospel today from Luke offers a parable that reminds us we must work to maintain the gifts and responsibilities God entrusted to us in order to maintain faith, hope and love.  It’s the story of the servant who is placed in charge of the household when the master is away.  Jesus tells us, “Gird your loins and light your lamps… be like servants who await their master’s return… blessed are those servants whom the master finds vigilant on his arrival.” In other words, faith is gift that we must continue to work for and maintain.

We are called not only to accept faith but also to care for it, nurture it, and strengthen it.  In our own time, I can see the steward of the house in a similar way to how we are to maintain a car.  Not only does the automobile require attention and maintenance but it needs to be fueled.  We know what it means to run on fumes but eventually we will come to a stop.  Our faith requires refueling in many ways, in the spiritual replenishment that comes within a community and especially when we partake in the Sacraments.

There are times in my life when I feel run-down and those are the moments when I do not feel the fullness of faith, hope and love.  Thank you for always providing me with the spiritual energy to not lose hope.  Together, we nurture our faith and cultivate the love that is truly the realization of what it means to be Children of God.  The evidence can truly be seen in the hearts of all of those who come together as true disciples.

God bless you!

Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth,

vanity of vanities!  All things are vanity!

Here is one who has labored with wisdom and knowledge and skill,

and yet to another who has not labored over it, he must leave property.

This also is vanity and a great misfortune.

For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart

with which he has labored under the sun?

All his days sorrow and grief are his occupation; even at night his mind is not at rest.

This also is vanity.  Ecc 1:2, 2:21-23

This Sunday we are confronted with one of the most stark messages of Scripture: “Vanity of Vanities!  All things are vanity!” (Our tradition tells us that this Book in Hebrew Scripture was attributed to King Solomon and the word “Qoheleth” is actually his title as literally an ‘assembler” or a gatherer of people for a message.) It is probably the most famous line in Ecclesiastes other than the comforting image of “For everything there is a season….” (Ecc 3:1) Though the latter verse talks about what can be difficult transitions in life, there is much more hope there than the former verse’s dark reminder that all things are indeed transitory. This is far less comforting and quite challenging, reminding us that life is fleeting and it is vain to think that we will not escape death. How about that for an uplifting Sunday message! 

Our Gospel today builds on the first reading by Jesus telling of the parable of the rich man who had gained many possessions and stored so much grain that he was expecting to eat, drink and be merry for a very long time. Of course, the twist in that story is that he dies and all was for naught.  It is a blaring reminder that we should live our lives knowing that the world’s possessions are meaningless compared to what is truly valuable in our own transition to new life. It is vain to think otherwise.

When I hear the word vanity, I admit my first thought goes to the image of a beautiful person admiring themselves in the mirror. Their worldly success might fill them with even more pride.  The secret is, however, to realize that these things are fleeting.  Vanity comes from the word meaning vaporous, in which everything we see in this world is truly just vapor and without substance.

We could be challenged to see life as futile, but our readings remind us of what truly is important and how we are called to live each day with integrity, compassion and a sense of greater duty to those around us and those beyond our actual scope of existence.  We are invited to truly love God and our neighbor by keeping a sense of humility and true perspective that puts everything in proper order, first and foremost our soul, which will last beyond the cares and concerns of this world.

To live with true integrity means that we are not vain to the degree we believe we can exist only thinking of ourselves and our self-interests.  Adam and Eve were considered the first to be truly vain because they allowed themselves to believe they could exist on their own without a healthy dependence on God.  Interestingly, the first effect was their shame of being naked, a stark contrast to vanity in the classic sense.  Let us all strive, with a healthy sense of self, to truly work together not for our own glory but the Glory of God.

Of course, I could go on about this passage from Ecclesiastes as I have much more to relate… (how’s that for vanity?), but instead let me switch gears and use this space to offer a heartfelt invitation:

Please join us for the Feast of the Assumption at All Saints on the Hudson.

It’s Friday, August 15th and Saturday, August 16th from 5:00 PM to 9:00 PM.

Details are available elsewhere in this bulletin, but I do hope you’ll come. It’s more than a celebration; it’s a tradition that has been part of the spiritual and cultural landscape of our entire area. I’m in awe of the countless number of volunteers who give their time and talent to make it possible. They are true ministers of hard work, hospitality and joy.

Perhaps that’s the most fitting way to respond to the Scripture passages this week is not by despairing about the future, but by celebrating what unites us: our shared faith, our community, and our devotion to Our Lady who leads us closer to her Son.

Thank you, as always, for the gift of your presence. Because of you, my “occupation” is not filled with sorrow and grief, but with joy, purpose, and gratitude. For that, I am blessed, all my days.

God bless you!

Fr. George

Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he had finished,

one of his disciples said to him,

"Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples."

He said to them, "When you pray, say:

Father, hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come.

Give us each day our daily bread

and forgive us our sins

for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us,

and do not subject us to the final test."                    (Luke 11:1-4)

I am finishing my blog this week while on retreat.  Much of it was written before I left but it was unfinished because I couldn't put into words what I wanted to express.  It was ironic that in the busy days leading to my departure, I didn't have time to pray, let alone write about it.  Or so I thought. 

I began my first draft focused on the first reading where Abraham bargains and negotiates mercy with a God who appears cold and indifferent to the needs of others.  Abraham does not give up asking.  That theme also enters into the Gospel which follows later with the disciple who wants to learn how to pray.  Jesus responds with the incredible gift of the Our Father which is of greatest benefit when we have difficulty praying or are lost without the right words.  I think of my own need to pray to Jesus, or his mother, or by imagining that I am also speaking to my loved ones.  My strongest prayer is when I express my own words from my heart and imagination, although that doesn't always work.

There are times that are more difficult than others.  Sometimes I am at a loss for words, which is why the gift of the Our Father, Hail Mary, or both of these prayers in the context of the Holy Rosary, put into words things difficult to express but fully in my heart. They are expressions not just of desire and need but actually out of love.

I once heard it described that while prayer may be best in our own words, like a written letter, sometimes you need to find the perfect Hallmark Card (I assure you I am not receiving compensation for this promotion!).  When words fail, the perfect card can express what we are trying to say.

The Our Father is the perfect prayer.  First and foremost, we never say this prayer in isolation of others.  The Father is not mine but ‘ours’, likewise the Father is not his, hers, or theirs but mine as well.  We ask for the basics, our daily bread, which connotes the very substance of our lives and in a Eucharistic sense the Sacrament that brings us all into communion. We pray for a better world and know that is not possible without letting go of all distractions and resentments.  We want forgiveness and acceptance knowing God, in turn, wants us to gift that to others.

I often think about how difficult it can be to pray when words fail. There are times I turn to the Lord and all I can manage is a prayer of silence, sorrow, or longing. And yet, there are moments when I am able to express myself through our common prayers.  That doesn't make them impersonal, it personally reminds us we are in this together; sometimes through the words of Jesus, sometimes through a Hail Mary, sometimes through the Rosary.  Other times I can stumble along, sometimes even by imagining a conversation with my grandparents, my mother, or those I’ve loved and lost. These “prayers” might not always be elegant, but they are honest. 

As I write this closing, I have been on retreat for several days and have been blessed to have quality time to pray and think about many things.  The greatest gift has been the time to pray for you.  God bless you!

Let us keep praying for each other and our world.

With love and prayers,
Fr. George

Jesus entered a village

where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.

She had a sister named Mary

who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.

Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,

"Lord, do you not care

that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?

Tell her to help me."

The Lord said to her in reply,

"Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.

There is need of only one thing.

Mary has chosen the better part

and it will not be taken from her." Luke 10:38-42

This week has one of my favorite passages from the Gospel and the first one I remember hearing my family discuss over a Sunday dinner.  In this setting, my mother was truly the “Martha” in extended family gatherings, cooking and serving and busy about all the details of hospitality.  We would have our jobs, helping in small ways, taking turns serving and assuming the duties of clean-up when she finally felt that she could relax.

My mother used to be annoyed that Jesus appeared to scold Martha and side with her sister.  As I have continued to wrestle with her criticism of this scenario, I have come to understand how a Preacher might imply that Jesus was severely reprimanding Martha.  If the Gospel is proclaimed with a judgmental tone, the hearer may interpret it in this light.   Instead, I like to think he was smiling at her and with a glint in his eye, saying playfully that she should get over herself.  As I would understand it, by saying Mary has chosen ‘the better part’ there is still room to hold on to the idea that neither Martha nor Mary is completely right or wrong.  They both share parts but not the fullness of what is required for true discipleship in its perfection.  I don’t think he was condemning Martha but inviting her to grow in her understanding of what it means to work together for the greater whole.

Ideally, we try to find a balance between being a people of service, like Martha, and a people of prayer, contemplation and reflection like Mary.  As we struggle with trying to find our own paths, we are reminded that we do not walk alone and Jesus is by our side, gently moving us along.

Thanks to our Second Reading today from St. Paul to the Colossians, I have been praying over a renewed appreciation of the dynamic of Martha and Jesus in this passage.  Martha is not afraid to speak her mind and tell Jesus exactly what she thinks he should be doing.  (How often do we mimic this in our own prayer?!?)  In some ways, she has the audacious nerve to put our Lord and Savior in his place!  Jesus in turn, puts Martha in her place without actually putting her down.  That’s why my vision of his smile comes in.  He is challenging her with love and understanding, not condemnation.

Our second reading ends with these words, “But now it has been manifested to his holy ones,

God chose to make known the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; it is Christ in you, the hope for glory. It is He whom we proclaim, admonishing everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone perfect in Christ.” Colossians 1:24-28

Good-naturedly or not, Martha was admonishing both Jesus and her sister, and in return Jesus admonished her.  Although a simplistic understanding implies they were scolding each other there is a definition of “Admonish” that puts this in perspective:  Coming to English through Old French from the Latin admonere, "to advise, remind," admonish is always used with an eye on improving someone's behavior.

Paul advises and reminds his community that all must play a part in illuminating the ‘hope for glory’.  There is an insight that none of us are truly perfect but with love, cooperation and mutual support we can move toward a greater perfection as the Body of Christ.  All too often, we act or speak without ‘all wisdom’ which leads people deeper into despair rather than into the glory of hope.

I’m away on retreat this weekend. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers. I’m using this time to be a little less like Martha and reflect, recharge, and work on some of my own imperfections. I am comforted and inspired in knowing that our communities, by God’s grace, continue to work on bringing out the best in one another.

While on retreat, I have a feeling my mother will be looking after me with love and compassion.  She will also remind me if I become too contemplative that it would be nice if I took the time to clean up my room.

God bless you all!

There was a scholar of the law who stood up to test Jesus and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” He replied to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.”  Luke 10.25,26

Our Gospel today begins in a powerful but simple way. A scholar wants to know how to inherit eternal life, and Jesus quotes Hebrew Scripture, in fact, the passage from Deuteronomy that serves as our first reading today. We hear that truth of God’s law is not far away, nor is it unattainable.  It is very near and something we already know:  

“Nor is it across the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will cross the sea to get it for us and tell us of it, that we may carry it out?’ No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out.”   (Deuteronomy 30.13,14)

Rather than ‘leave well enough alone’, the scholar captures something two thousand years ago that is very similar to how we treat the question today: Who is our neighbor? Throughout all of history, people have decided it is someone who is “one of us,” and someone with whom we closely identify.  Our neighbor is one we could literally live next door to, assuming of course that the neighborhood is comfortable and familiar, not filled with strife or diversity, but a place where we feel at home.

Jesus challenges that with a story that we all know so well. So much so, that it is already in our mouths and hearts when we hear the name of arguably his most famous parable: the story of the Good Samaritan.

In a world where the conflicts of the Middle East continue to demonstrate that seemingly similar peoples with parallel ethnic roots, (Peoples who all claim to be children of Abraham!) remain divided.  Not just there but everywhere the idea of “who is my neighbor?” is still much debated. This is not unique to the most troubled places of the world; it can be as close to us as our own walking distances. People learn to distrust those who are not like them, and worse yet, forces of evil continue to deceive us into believing that those who are not “one of us” are neither friends nor neighbors, but enemies and scapegoats for all our troubles.

The Parable of the Good Samaritan challenges us, as it has for two thousand years, in multiple ways, but two in particular. First, it challenges us to truly be a good neighbor to one another. The priest and the Levite were undisputed neighbors to the victim on the road.  They were members of the same community and quite possibly the same extended family. Preoccupied with their own business, they not only mind their own but turn away from the person in need.

Pope Leo recently wrote: “We find ourselves in front of others, faced with their fragility and weakness, and we can decide what to do: to take care of them or pretend nothing is wrong.”

The fact that the enemy of Jesus’ audience is revealed to do the right thing is meant to humble the listener into becoming both a better neighbor and a better person. That alone would be enough to challenge the listener of Jesus’ day and our own.

Even more groundbreaking, Jesus is forcing the listener to see the Samaritan as a good and compassionate person, whose empathy for “his enemy” allows him to be loving and generous. The Jewish person would have felt disdain for the Samaritan and expected him to be the villain, not the hero, of the story. Imagine how they would have heard this before the twist we now take for granted.

The victim on the road is left in pain and suffering, robbed of his belongings. The people waited for the Samaritan to come and kick him while he was down. They wanted to get angry and let their hate and judgment fester as they expected to tell the story of how the Samaritan did even greater harm.

As we know, that did not happen. The Samaritan was loving, kind, and generous. There is a reason why, whenever we reach out to people in our own country and around the world with our prayers and material assistance, we are doing the work of the Good Samaritan. 

Let us, as Christians, continue to look for ways to care for one another, especially in times of natural disaster, horrific events like the flooding in Texas, war, and violence. Let us see, as we have done through the great traditions of the Red Cross, Catholic Relief Services, and other humanitarian efforts, how we can move away from scapegoating those we reject as neighbors and instead accept them as we expect Jesus to accept us, despite our own shortcomings.

God bless you all! I am preparing to enter into an eight-day retreat beginning this week and will be praying for you all. Thank you, my dear parishioners, for being good neighbors and for drawing me closer to the loving embrace of a God who is there for us at every step of the way, even in those times when we find ourselves on the side of the road.

As a people, we know what we must do to inherit eternal life. It is in our mouths and in our hearts. With God’s love, let us carry it out in action.  God bless you!

At that time the Lord appointed seventy-two others whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit. He said to them, ‘The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.’(Luke 10:1–2)

Seventy-two. For me, the number ‘72’ conjures up movies, television shows, and even news reports in which someone is given “72 hours” to produce the evidence or get the job done. Those three days, depicted hour by hour, offer a reasonable timeframe while also establishing a sense of urgency and purpose.

In Jesus’ time, days were measured by the rising and setting of the sun, and nights were considered more of an abyss, a watchful waiting for dawn to announce a new day. Seventy-two hours represented the average daylight time within six days, symbolic of the six days in which God created heaven and earth. The seventh day, the Sabbath, would only arrive when the work was completed, and God could once again declare, “All things are good!”

Twelve carries powerful imagery as well. It represents the Twelve Tribes of Israel, later embodied in the Twelve Apostles. But now, the circle is expanding. Jesus is sending out a large contingent: seventy-two, two by two. By pairing them, he assures they will have support and companionship to sustain them on what might be a difficult or even dangerous mission.

To paraphrase a commentator I knew growing up, however, that is only part of the story.

Last week, we celebrated the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles, representing both the Twelve led by Peter and the missionary outreach forged by Paul. The Church would not exist as it does today without their combined witness, dedication, and prayerful hard work. As different as they were, neither could fully carry out the mission without the other. They complemented and strengthened one another. So too, I imagine, were these pairs sent out – each bringing their unique gifts to share with the people they met, accompanied by a fellow sojourner along the way.

As parishioners, we too are called to be disciples, not on a lonely, singular path, but walking together with others. We are sent into a world that urgently needs the healing power of God’s love and grace. Our first reading this weekend gives us the image of a loving mother caring tenderly for her child. This is how God’s love surrounds us. Just as a mother is her child’s first companion, so too is God our companion and guide always.

As a priest mindful that “the laborers are few,” I am deeply grateful for the many partners in ministry who have walked with me and nurtured me along the way. Together, we can bring God’s healing and creative love to a world where many feel abandoned or orphaned. Clearly, we must proclaim: No one is alone! We have each other. We have our God.

As parish families, our diverse communities accomplish so much more of Jesus’ mission when we walk together. I am especially aware of this as our fiscal year draws to a close on June 30th. I am proud that both parishes exceed their diocesan appeal goals and want to express my heartfelt gratitude for the dedication and faithful service that all our churches continue to provide. The mission we share, rooted in the Gospel and lived out through hospitality, ministry, prayer, and generosity, can only flourish when we journey side by side.

As our nation celebrates the Fourth of July one last time before the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in 1776, let us continue to pave the way for “truth, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Together, we can help reveal the truth of God’s love, the freedom of God’s children, and the joy of everlasting life when all other pursuits come to an end.

God bless you. God bless America. And God bless all of God’s family, walking two by two, throughout the world.

When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:13–16)

The Gospel passage this week is one of my favorites because it shows the beginning of a deeper relationship between Jesus and Peter in a way that we can all relate.  Just as when a friendship grows stronger or begins to help define who we are, Peter is truly ‘confessing’ that he believes that Jesus is the Christ.  He does not understand what this will mean or the cost of discipleship but at that pivotal moment he knows his life will never be the same.

In the last couple of weeks, I have mentioned how the Rebuilt Conference in Northeast Maryland had a deep effect on me and my companions who were on a quest to see how our parishes might be transformed by our own enriched encounter with Jesus Christ.  I must confess that after meeting parishioners from where my grandparents came into their own, I retraced some of my grandparents’ steps and took the long way home on a sentimental journey.

While not entering the towns, I drove by East Stroudsburg where they met.   My grandmother was attending East Stroudsburg Normal School which had just been formed around 20 years earlier.  Now it is part of what we commonly refer to as Penn State.   It was then exclusively a training school for teachers, a place where young women learned the "norms" of teaching and the rules of the profession, including the expectation that female teachers remain unmarried. And she had no intention of marrying and saw teaching as her life vocation.

Unexpectedly, while sitting with a friend in a little ice cream parlor across from the East Stroudsburg railway station, she looked across the room and saw a young railroad man between shifts: my future grandfather.  She loved to tell the story, many decades later, that barely knowing him after one chance meeting, she turned to her friend Sadie and said, “That’s George Fay, and he is going to be my husband.”

Like Peter who boldly proclaimed, “You are the Christ,” she had no idea what that confession would mean or how it would change her life.  They are responsible for the family I have cherished my whole life and their influence has an effect on every aspect of my life, including my priesthood.

This weekend we celebrate the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles, two amazing saints that had little in common except for their love of Christ.  In their own ways, they confessed who Jesus was and will always be in their lives and the lives of all peoples. Peter is seen as a leader, holding the emerging Church together, while Paul is seen as the missionary, expanding the Church and shaping it in a way that contrasts with Peter’s vision as the holder of the Keys. Their two perspectives gave birth to the Church we have now and in their footsteps we continue the journey of discipleship.

Last week, Corpus Christi was blessed to celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  For only the fifth time in my now 31 years of priesthood, the Church is blessed to celebrate the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul on a Sunday where their story can be told once more.  As different as they are, so too are the opportunities for us all to reflect not so much on how we contrast each other, but on how we complement one another in our common mission.

Our own parish family of All Saints on the Hudson are heirs to four church communities, including two named for St. Peter and St. Paul.  Like the apostles themselves, our parishes, including Corpus Christi, have distinct identities, different perspectives, and sometimes differing approaches. We are all called to follow one Lord, Jesus Christ. We are not on opposing teams. We are one family.

So let us, like Peter, not be afraid to confess that Jesus is the Christ. Let us, like Paul in 2 Timothy 4:7, fight the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith.   Let us, like my grandparents in that small-town ice cream parlor, believe in our hearts that a single encounter can change everything.

As we continue to encounter Jesus Christ in our Sacraments, our outreach, our minds and our hearts, and in the people we encounter along our journey, let us respond with the courage of Peter and the endurance of Paul.

God bless you!

 “Now the men there numbered about five thousand. Then he said to his disciples, ‘Have them sit down in groups of about fifty.’ They did so and made them all sit down. Then taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing over them, broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. They all ate and were satisfied. And when the leftover fragments were picked up, they filled twelve wicker baskets.” (Luke 9:14–17)

As I write these words on behalf of both All Saints on the Hudson and Corpus Christi, I’m filled with joy and gratitude. On one level, Corpus Christi Parish is celebrating its Feast Day. But in a deeper, more universal way, the entire Church celebrates the great Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.  We are all one as the Body of Christ!

To all my family in faith at All Saints and at Corpus Christi, thank you for being my companions on the journey. Your presence and witness nourish my priesthood and remind me of the mystery we celebrate every time we gather together, especially at the Eucharist.  We gather as a multitude but, if we truly are Christ for one another, this becomes a time of intimacy and shared love.

Imagine the crowd that first gathered together to hear the words of Jesus Christ:  five thousand men, not counting women and children!  Their size mirrors the capacity of MVP Arena in Albany.   Now picture that crowd being offered just five loaves and two fish. For over 2,000 years, theologians and biblical scholars have pondered this miracle but what strikes me today is how they were asked to receive.  Jesus has them sit down, relax and wait for the miracle to happen.  They are reclining, resting and allowing themselves to be unguarded.

At the recent Rebuilt Conference I attended in Timonium, Maryland, one theme that resonated deeply was the power of small groups. The Gospel tells us the crowd was organized into groups of fifty. This was not for crowd control; it was an invitation to form community, to be known, to share, and to receive as one. Let us continue that call, building our Church through small groups to larger assemblies.

Last weekend, I attended two musical revues that reminded me of how powerful shared stories can be. In Stillwater, our youth brought Disney’s “Dare to Dream” to life. The next night, with dear friends, I enjoyed ‘A Grand Night for Singing’, a tribute to Rodgers and Hammerstein, at the Mac-Haydn Theatre in Chatham.

Both revues took decades of music and distilled them into a meaningful, emotionally charged retelling (resinging?).  When we come together as a community, especially to celebrate the Eucharist, we recall salvation history and give it new life in the here and now.  In doing so, we touch both heaven and earth.

The themes of the musical revues I attended reminded the audiences not to be afraid to dream and not to fear more fully loving.  The Eucharist offers us more than dreams. It offers transformation.  The Eucharist invites us not only to love but to be fully embraced by the God Who Is Love.  What we receive, we are invited to share.  If we truly embody Christ in this world, we will nourish those who hunger and satisfy the thirst of those who know what it means to feel parched.

As our friends of Corpus Christi gather this weekend to celebrate their Feast, members from both our parishes are invited just as Jesus continues to invite us into His One Body.  I want to thank everyone who has been working to make this moment a success just as our friends of All Saints on the Hudson are preparing for their annual feast in honor of the Lady of the Assumption, the Festa.  May we continue to break bread together, feasting as true disciples, sharing in what we hope to fully become.

God bless you!  Mangia!

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”   (Romans 5:1–5)

This passage from St. Paul has been close to my heart this week. After returning from the ReBuilt Conference in Timonium, Maryland, I’ve been filled with gratitude and renewed enthusiasm for my priesthood and for what we can do together to live out our discipleship in our Lord Jesus Christ. The conference brought together over 750 church leaders from across the country and world, united in prayer and purpose, all committed to becoming parishes that welcome, grow, and send forth disciples.

I was also blessed with the opportunity to head toward Baltimore two days earlier to reconnect with dear friends who have become a second family to me. Over three decades, I have joined them for weddings, funerals, and baptisms. The youngest grandchild is now the same age her mother was when I first met her. Being so close to my seminary reminded me of a time when the future felt daunting, yet I was filled with promise and hope. It truly felt like coming home.

Returning to our parishes after such a refreshing visit made me feel that same sense of coming home, to the families I am so blessed to serve. At the same time, I felt some anxiety that I couldn’t be everywhere or present at all our services. As any parent knows, it’s hard when you want to be in more than one place.

The main reason I wanted to be everywhere was to be present to communities who might feel uncertain or anxious about possible changes following the release of our Bishop’s call for future pastoral planning. It struck me how fitting it was that after being immersed in the ReBuilt model, our diocesan initiative shares a similar spirit: “Remade for Mission.” This should be a time when we truly come together, seeing this ‘sacred threshold’ as a pathway to renewal.

Romans 5 speaks of affliction producing endurance, endurance shaping character, and character giving birth to hope. That sequence reminds me of a concept I’ve been thinking about lately: ‘anti-fragility’. Something ‘anti-fragile’ actually becomes stronger through stress, challenge, and change. Isn’t that what our faith invites us to be?  People who do not simply endure trials, but who grow in grace because of them and emerge stronger and more committed.

I am confident in our people. In the months ahead, we will be raising up parish leadership, since both churches currently do not have active pastoral councils. In the meantime, I want to ensure we gather people who can advocate for all aspects of our parish life. Working together, across parishes and church boundaries, will strengthen our commitment to what truly unites us: our discipleship in Jesus Christ.

We are building on the faith, hope, and love of those who came before us:  men and women who helped shape our communities. This weekend, in particular, we give thanks for all fathers, biological, adoptive, and spiritual, who have heroically endured hardships, offered wisdom, and modeled love in action. May this Father's Day be a moment to celebrate their proven character and the way they have inspired us.

Speaking of fathers, I would be remiss not to mention The Father—who, in union with the Son and the Holy Spirit, is at the very heart of our celebration of The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity this weekend. It reminds us that we are drawn into relationship with the Triune God, made in the image of our Creator, and invited to live as true brothers and sisters, heirs to the promise, and companions on the journey of discipleship. As Pentecost reminded us last week, it is the Holy Spirit who emboldens us:  teaching us what we must know and reminding us who we truly are as beloved children of God.

Rebuilt.  Remade for Mission.

Let us move forward together, building our communities anew, and making the mission of our Lord come alive in the hearts and lives of all.

God bless you all.

 “When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled, they were all in one place together.
And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind…
Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire...
And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 2:1–4)

This weekend we are celebrating Pentecost, the fiftieth day after Easter, which is traditionally considered the Birth of the Church.   The Holy Spirit, the Advocate, descends upon the apostles as promised, filling them with courage and strength.  Emboldened and graced, the Apostles are sent forth, unified in the Mission of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

I would like to share a quote from Pope Francis from his Pentecost homily in 2020:  

“The Holy Spirit does not want closed groups; 

He wants open communities that radiate the presence of the Lord.
Let us ask ourselves: Are we open to His surprises?
Or do we barricade ourselves in what is familiar and safe?”   (May 31, 2020)

As I write this on Ascension Thursday, I’m preparing to leave my own personal comfort zone and attend a three day conference in Timonium, Maryland, not far from the seminary I graduated from over thirty years ago.  The Rebuilt Conference 2025, rooted in the parish renewal movement, is designed to rekindle our sense of mission through better homilies, warmer hospitality, and a more vibrant experience of Church.

At a time when our local and universal church is going through so much change, it is good to return to the same sense of mission that propelled Jesus’ disciples so many years ago.  With the Holy Spirit to give us courage and strength, we can reimagine how to serve our people and spread the Good News even amid challenges.  So much good can be done when we trust in God and open ourselves to the inspiration the Holy Spirit brings.

Jesus did not abandon us at the Ascension but promised:  “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit… will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.” (John 14:26)  I am going on the Conference to not only learn new ways and methods but to be reminded of what fed my call to the priesthood in the first place.  Being so close to the people and places that formed me will surely compliment my experiences and open me up to new possibilities.

Pentecost reminds us that the success of revitalizing communities rests on truly responding to the Holy Spirit.  May the Advocate unite us with all peoples and take away all divisions, including language and other barriers.  All of us are called to answer, to reach beyond ourselves and care for others, asking the Holy Spirit for guidance, acceptance, and ultimately the courage not to give up on the Mission of our Lord Jesus Christ.

God bless you as we pray together, Come Holy Spirit.

Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit,
looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God
and Jesus standing at the right hand of God…  (Acts 7.55)

The witnesses laid down their cloaks at the feet of a young man named Saul.
As they were stoning Stephen, he called out, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”
Then he fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin

 against them;” and when he said this, he fell asleep.     (Acts 7.58-60)

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”   (Luke 23.34)

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”   (Luke 23.46)

When I looked back at last week’s blog, I realized I did not acknowledge Memorial Day.  I felt regret but I sincerely had lost track of time due to early deadlines.  Memorial Day should not have a passing mention, however, especially as it evokes the sacrifice so many have made.

Stephen was the Church’s first martyr.  His death mirrors so many who have given up their lives for the greater good.  It is important not only that he died, but how.  His heroism was steeped in faith and a natural ability to truly walk in Jesus’ footsteps with grace, humility and forgiveness.  His peaceful contentment reminded me of so many whose sides I have been privileged to join during their passing from this world to the next.

One example is particularly close to my heart.  Though they died eighteen years apart, both my mother and father passed away peacefully in hospice care, with my brother and I at their sides.  As I think of Stephen’s experience, I wonder if, in those final moments, they saw Jesus standing, surrounded by loved ones, ready to embrace them.  Biblical commentators point out that Scripture usually speaks of Jesus seated at the right hand of the Father. In this account he is standing, as if rising to meet Stephen, perhaps arms wide open.

Stephen’s death mirrors Jesus’ in a profound way. Both speak words of mercy and reconciliation. Luke’s Gospel, which continues in the Acts of the Apostles, gives us three of the seven last sayings of Jesus.  Two shared above are words of forgiveness, trust, and compassion. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Stephen walked in the footsteps of Jesus, even in his final walk through death.

We have just celebrated Memorial Day in our country and our Church has celebrated the Ascension as we prepare next week for Pentecost.  As we continue to recall those who have made sacrifices for something greater than themselves, let us continue to live out their legacy in the footsteps of Stephen who was a model for peace and unity, even in the face of persecution. 

In our Gospel this week, Jesus continues to pray that all will be one.  In our Second Reading from Revelation, we hear one of the simplest, most beautiful prayers in Scripture: “Come, Lord Jesus.”  United with the Father and the Son, we now prepare to pray, “Come, Holy Spirit!”  Will this move the hearts of others?  Will this move our own?

The third “Last Word” spoken by Jesus on Good Friday was, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”   (Luke 23:43)  While there is no explicit connection in the account of Stephen’s death, it might be said that a thief was there.  As the executioner, Saul had played a part in stealing his life.  Perhaps his mind and heart were moved in that moment, preparing him to encounter Jesus on the Road to Damascus.  

As we remember our heroes, let us humbly walk in the heroic footsteps of Stephen and Jesus, prepared to bring reconciliation and grace to this world.  If we can do this, we will begin to live in peace.  May the Love of God bless you.

“The Advocate, the Holy Spirit,

whom the Father will send in my name,

will teach you everything

and remind you of all that I told you.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.

Not as the world gives do I give it to you.

Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”  (John 14.25-27)

At the center of this week’s Gospel (John 14:23–29), Jesus continues his Last Supper Discourse in a way that would have both comforted the disciples and rattled their world. That may sound like a contradiction but anyone who has ever received challenging news knows this experience. Even difficult or painful revelations can become moments of grace when comfort and grace allow us to see beyond what is scary in the present and trust in a better future.

Jesus has been speaking deeply about his relationship with the Father and how the Son has revealed Him.  Our Lord is seen in communion with the Father and we are invited to enter into that loving relationship.  He then shares the shocking revelation that he is seemingly leaving them and going home to the Father.  Before it fully sinks in, he provides a truly blessed twist in the story.  Jesus is not going to leave us orphaned but he is sending the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, to dwell among us.  Actually, the fullness of God has always been with us and will continue to be but this unveiling brings us a complete realignment with the Triune God.  What an amazing development in our salvation story!

Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about family and friends I’ve seemingly lost along the way.  I know they still walk with me but I miss their physical presence.  Who among us wouldn’t want to embrace a loved one, perhaps a parent or grandparent one more time?  Our lives feel empty without them and yet many of us are graced by new “advocates” who have joined us, sometimes unexpectedly, in our life journeys.  In their own way, they play a part in carrying on what I relied on from others in the past.  Like those who have gone before them, they remind me that I’m not alone. They remind me who I am, and who I’m called to be, when I’m at my best.  I hope and pray you have received this blessing in your own lives.

There’s a beautiful adage that captures this idea.  Sometimes it refers to a soulmate or a close relative but it simply might remind us of a blessed relationship.  “A true friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and sings it back to you when you’ve forgotten the words.”

When I think of the Holy Spirit, I must admit that I think of the giver of inspiration and grace but I don’t always think of the Advocate as a friend.  Dear friends and family come to mind, including those whom I know are watching over me from afar.  I think of the Blessed Mother, especially in prayer.   Our Gospel invites us to recognize the Spirit as a true Comforter, especially when our hearts are troubled or afraid.  As Jesus did for his companions on his physical journey, God continues to offer a peace that the world cannot give. We continue to be taught new things but as importantly to be reminded of what we might sometimes let ourselves forget, especially in times of trouble.  As the song goes, we are encouraged to make a change, or perhaps, let it be.

Looking back, I marvel at how many unexpected people have entered my life, people I never could have imagined decades ago, when my circle of family and friends was so different.  I truly believe, as Jesus sends the Advocate, God also sends advocates in the form of the people in our lives.  They help us and remind us of God’s love that puts a song in our hearts, even in times of forgetfulness.

I am so blessed to be a Roman Catholic priest of the Diocese of Albany!  I have not only been blessed with advocates I never would have known if I had taken a different path, I have also been privileged in some small way, to be an advocate for others on their faith journey.

In the course of the six days that led me to penning this past Tuesday, I have been graced to participate in Baptisms, First Communions, Reconciliations, Anointings of the Sick, Confirmations, Weddings, Funerals and Ordinations.  In each encounter, I have witnessed the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of our people.  I have been graced to serve as an Advocate in my role as priest and friend.

Thinking especially of the littlest ones with whom I have administered the Sacrament of Baptism, they may never know the role people have played in bringing them to this incredible moment of their lives.  As Children of the Light, they will continue to receive advocates throughout their life journeys and importantly, they will be a beacon of God’s love in the world they will encounter.  They might even serve as Advocates of Love and Peace as long as they remember who they are and how much they will always be loved by those continuing to watch over them.

God bless you and God bless our Advocates who take on many forms.  May the Holy Spirit, Our True Friend, dwell within you and grant you enough peace and love to share that friendship with others.

"Don't throw the past away
You might need it some rainy day
Dreams can come true again
When everything old is new again."

And the One who sat on the throne said,
“Behold, I make all things new.” (Revelation 21:5)

I begin this reflection with lyrics from a Peter Allen song from five decades ago that somehow came to mind as I reflect on how we are experiencing something both old and new in our world and within our Church. The tears we may have felt at the passing of Pope Francis, and his legacy of simplicity, patience and understanding, have begun to be softly washed away.  The old order, as Revelation would include in this week’s reading, may have passed away but we are being led to something new with the election of a New Pope.

Pope Leo XIV ‘s selection came as a surprise that has awakened enthusiasm for so many.  We never would have predicted that a ‘Boy from Chicago’ with a diverse ethnic background and a history of missionary work rooted in the Order of St. Augustine, would be chosen to be the Vicar of Christ.  His choice of name is also stirring.  He is intentionally carrying on the legacy of Pope Francis and his recent predecessors with the tradition of Catholic Social Teaching and Scripture Study brought to life by Pope Leo XIII.   The old is becoming renewed again while the new is being rooted in history.   As we watched modern technology stream centuries-old rituals, we witnessed the Church, and the Holy Spirit that guides us, in full display and motion.

The closing line of our second reading captures my imagination: “Behold, I make all things new.”   In the freshness of these past few weeks with the image of Pope Leo assuming the Chair of Peter, we are reminded that God is not done with us yet.  In turn, we have some work to do.  Pope Leo carries the responsibility of drawing us back to the core of our beliefs and what it means to truly love others fiercely and without reservation.  We are called to love as Jesus commands in our Gospel this week:  “Love one another as I have loved you.” 

In the closing sentiments of Jesus’ direction in the Upper Room at the end of the Last Supper, we are challenged by Judas’ departure.  While he was present for the Breaking of the Bread and the Washing of the Feet, he is not present for the command to love in such a way that if he had truly heard and allowed this to change his heart, his life would have changed.

Our lives will change at the new election of Pope Leo XIV.  For some, this may fill us with anxiety.  For others of us, it rebuilds our enthusiasm for ministry.  Ultimately, we will be challenged yet transformed by accepting God’s call to love radically in a world that is filled with so much mistrust, hate or perhaps just as wrong, indifference.  

I am excited for the future of our parishes, Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson. Rooted with our traditions of the past while growing toward the future, we have the faith, courage, strength, compassion, and grace to recommit to the mission of Jesus Christ. In the coming weeks, we will be announcing new initiatives, all of them grounded in our past, yet bringing us forward into the future.

You may have heard that before.  Everything old is new again!  And aren’t we better for it?

God bless you.  God bless Pope Leo XIV.    God bless our Church.

As I write this, we are still in the process of First Communions and Confirmations and I will highlight this next week.  For now, let me share how invigorating and uplifting these sacred experiences have been for me alongside our youth.  God bless our families, catechists and parish communities for all that ‘you do’ but especially all that ‘you are’.  True Disciples!

Jesus said:

“My sheep hear my voice;

I know them, and they follow me.

I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.

No one can take them out of my hand.

My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all,

and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand.

The Father and I are one.”         John 10:27-30

This year the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday also falls on Mother’s Day!  How beautifully does the Gospel relate the love and concern of the Shepherd and how appropriate it is to remember our mothers whose voices we first heard and who would always recognize ours!?  The image of the Good Shepherd, like a Good Mother, is one that calls, nurtures, shapes, protects and guides us.   Unexpectedly, this year we are in the process of listening for a new Holy Father who will shepherd the Universal Church.  

Pope Francis always aspired to be a true shepherd for God’s people.  He would quote Jesus in Scripture: “I am the good shepherd. I know my sheep, and mine know me.” Pope Francis reminds us that this must be true of all church leadership, especially priests.  To quote the Holy Father:  “The Good Shepherd is attentive to each of us… He takes upon Himself our burdens, our weariness, our hopes, and our lives.” This is a shepherd who knows the sound of our voice, and whose voice we must learn to recognize in return.

This image calls to mind a story about my mother that my father repeated again shortly before his own death on May 10, 2007. This Mother’s Day marks the 35th one I have celebrated without my mother physically with me but whose voice I still hear in my prayers and dreams.   

My brother and I are twins and my dad said that while my mom always seemed to tell us apart, we were color coded so that he and others could always keep track of who was who.  My mom left her vocation as a teacher to raise us full time and my father was assigned ‘night duty’ where he would attend to our needs so my mother could receive her much-deserved rest.

My mom would always wake up first to the sound of our cries, just like the Good Shepherd.  She would wake up my father who was a solid sleeper and command: “Get up, George is crying!” or she would say, “Get up, Ed is crying!”   Although we were close by, we were not in their view.  My dad related how continually astonished he was that she instinctively knew which one of us was crying.  As a good Shepherd, she knew the sound of our voices.  I know in my heart that my mom’s young twins also knew the sound of both their mother and father as well.

In memory of my parents, I am going to do something that I’ve been meaning to do for months.  I used to frustrate them with my tendency to procrastinate and I realize I’ve been putting off something that I shouldn’t.  For various reasons, I had yet to make my contribution to this year’s Diocesan Appeal.  One way I can tend to my flock is to join the entire local church in fiscally supporting the Appeal which funds ministries that, in turn, support our brothers and sisters in need. Together may we shepherd the Diocese of Albany with our love, prayers and generous hearts.

This weekend, let us remember and honor the mothers, grandmothers, godmothers, and all maternal figures who have been shepherds of our souls from the beginning.  God bless you all, too, who help tend to their parish families in much the same way, with love, patience, guidance and compassion.  May we call forth new shepherds who will know the sound of our voices as we hear theirs.

God bless you!  Happy Mother’s Day!  Happy Good Shepherd Sunday!

This Sunday’s Gospel offers a powerful encounter between the Risen Christ and Simon Peter. After breakfast on the shore, Jesus turns to Peter and asks him three times: “Do you love me?” Each time Peter responds with a heartfelt “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you,” and each time Jesus replies with a command: “Feed my lambs… Tend my sheep… Feed my sheep.”

Our Gospel this week (John 21.1-19) ends with this sentiment and shows how deep the reconciliation Peter experienced with the Risen Lord as well as with himself.  No longer in shame for denying Christ, he will lead by following in the Shepherd’s footsteps.  Jesus entrusts his flock to Peter as an incredible testament of to their mutual love.  Peter is commissioned to live out his vocation by furthering the mission of our Lord Jesus Christ not as a job but an act of love.

John 21.15-19 holds special significance recently, as they were chosen as the Gospel reading for the funeral Mass of Pope Francis on April 26, 2025. The choice was deeply symbolic. Throughout his papacy, Pope Francis embodied the spirit of this Gospel: feeding Christ’s sheep, tending to the poor and the marginalized, and calling the Church to live the Gospel with compassion and humility.

Though the lectionary provides a shorter option for this Sunday’s Gospel, omitting verses 15–19, I could not imagine excluding this moment. Its connection to the life and death of Pope Francis is too profound. It is a reminder to us all: love of Christ must be expressed through service. That is the path of discipleship. That is what it means to follow Him.

In the same spirit of pastoral love and commitment, we also mourn locally the passing of Father Joseph Anselment, who died just two days before Pope Francis. Father Joe was a mentor and great supporter to me, especially when I was first named a pastor in the Warren and Washington County Deanery. He welcomed me, encouraged me, and modeled for me the kind of steady, faithful leadership that forms a parish family.

While I knew him best when he was in Queensbury, Father Joe always spoke of his great love for the people of St. Peter’s in Stillwater.  His legacy continues to inspire many.  Father Joe’s love for the Church was matched by his love for the outdoors. He led many parishioners on unforgettable hikes, picnics, ski trips and sporting events.  He brought together the entire parish family but always kept his focus on the youth and young adults, reminding them that church exists beyond our walls.  Ultimately, he led us in worship and guided us through the Sacraments.  

As I reflect on Father Joe’s life, I am struck by the deep spiritual bond I feel to St. Peter’s Church in Stillwater, where so many people I admired left their mark. Men like Father Bill Turnbull were always looked up to by my generation.  Others like Monsignor Lawrence Kelly, who left St. Peter’s to serve my home parish of St. Catherine of Siena, was a dear friend to my parents and a great influence on my childhood.  In my early years serving the Diocese of Albany, wonderful priests, like Father Jim O’Neill and Father Joe Anselment, all helped form the priest and pastor I strive to be.

I have been deeply influenced by those who have served our parishes before me, brother priests of our Diocese and the devoted Augustinians whose legacy still echoes in the hearts of many. Two years ago, as the Augustinians announced they would be leaving the area, I considered writing a separate reflection just for All Saints on the Hudson and another for Corpus Christi. The idea returned to me recently. But once again, I let it pass because we are called to share our memories as well as our faith.  Just as in our own families, we have been influenced and inspired by those who have gone before us.  How grateful we are to the clergy with whom we have been blessed!  We see the fruits of their efforts alive in the generations that continue to grace us.

Today, I am deeply honored to serve as pastor of All Saints on the Hudson, including our Stillwater-based community at St. Peter’s and the other members of our parish family representing St. Isaac Jogues, St. Paul the Apostle and Assumption Church as well as those who have found us as their new home.  I feel equally proud to be a part of Corpus Christi.  

The greatest legacy of those who have served our parishes can be seen in the continued lay leadership that makes it possible for me to merely attempt to walk in their footsteps.  In each of our own ways, like Saint Peter, we walk side by side, commissioned to tend to the flock.

As we remember our parish families, and all those who have gone before us, may we continue to support and pray for one another in faith and love.  May we also pray continue to pray for vocations: priests, deacons, religious and dedicated lay leadership.  God bless you during this Easter season!  Together, by word and deed may we like, Saint Peter, reassure our Savior with these words in our hearts: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you!”

An Easter message from Father George

Christ is Risen!  Alleluia!

As I sit down to write these words, my heart is full of gratitude, love, and hope. Easter is the perfect time to rejoice with the Risen One in the midst of a community of faith. I feel deeply blessed that so many of you joined Fr. Marty, Fr. Bob, and me in celebrating the sacred liturgies of Holy Week at Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson. Your faithful presence is a sign of the deep faith and enduring strength of our extended parish family.

I am also deeply touched by the many former parishioners and forever friends who continue to walk this journey of faith with me and stay connected through prayer and mutual support.  I could never have imagined how blessed my life would be when I began my discernment forty years ago this year, that my past relationships would only get stronger and the newer ones appear to last a lifetime.  I am so blessed!

As someone who has the honor of being called ‘Father’ I take seriously the responsibility of being there for my family, especially in times of trial and uncertainty.  The recent announcement by our Bishop that we will be entering into a new round of pastoral planning has many concerned. At the same time, the wounds of the past have reopened as we navigate the ongoing effects of the diocesan bankruptcy and court decisions that will ask for real sacrifices from our people. These challenges are compounded by how our hearts continue to break for victims of clergy abuse or those who feel betrayed by institutions they once trusted, including St. Clare’s Hospital.

The issues facing us extend well into every aspect of our lives.  Our world is suffering from unstable markets, divisive politics, public scandals, personal and communal suffering as well as injustices, violence and wars that never seem to end.  The marking of Earth Day on April 22nd even seems bittersweet in light of the pollution, storms and natural disasters that we face on a daily basis.  Still, truly, the sun will continue to rise, pierce the clouds and shine on our world.  

Let us remember we are not alone in all of this.  Jesus understands our pain and bears our crosses especially in such times of trouble.  For Christians, the worst day of history was Good Friday yet our redemption came not in the distant future but on the Third Day. Things may not be better tomorrow or the next, but they will be one day!  In the meantime, Jesus has given us each other to persevere and thrive even during the most challenging times.

Let us also remember we are family!  Families matter most during difficult transitions that require facing new challenges or making painful decisions.  For example, when a family business is sold or closes, a family farm or home can no longer be sustained, or any deep family loss is felt, we mourn.  As Jesus wept then, we weep now.  Like Lazarus who was raised, we will rise again.  With family and friends, we begin to live again, often with much difficulty but slowly, prayerfully, and courageously not merely to survive but in order to honor our continuing legacy and ensure our family’s future.  

Together as a family we can navigate changes and uncertainties into a new reality of what discipleship means in our world.  We can become stronger in our faith by inspiring each other to embrace a renewal of hope and a commitment to love one another as God loves us.  Some members of our family have been deeply hurt. They made need to step back before entering into the fold.  With mercy and compassion let us aspire to be a welcoming presence for all those who are hurting or searching.  May we by example show the strength of our Lord Jesus who shoulders our burdens and leads us to the living waters of his grace.  

Now is the time for us to band together as true disciples. Let us pray and work together as mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons, grandparents and wisdom figures, elders and youth. This is not the time to circle our wagons but to enhance and enlarge the circle, keeping Jesus, Our Risen Christ, clearly at our center. 

At the heart of our family is the Blessed Mother.  May we stay the course as we journey through the Easter season and into Ordinary Time which reminds us that God will place all things in order.  As brothers and sisters and disciples, may we be lovingly led by our Mother who knew the pain of standing by her Son at the cross, then, and rejoices in the presence of our Risen Savior, now!   

God bless you.  Allow me to finish this blog with a prayer I have paraphrased to fit our time and place.  Dear friends who have become family to me have often shared a Marian blessing for safety on the road.  Their original prayer referenced “Our Lady of the Highways’:  

“May Mary, Our Lady of the Journey, protect us and guide us,

for all her ways are beautiful, and all her paths lead to peace.”

Fr. George Fleming

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Since the beginning of Lent until now,

we have prepared our hearts by penance and charitable works.

Today, we gather together to herald, with the whole Church,

the beginning of the celebration of our Lord’s Paschal Mystery—

that is to say, of His Passion and Resurrection.

     At the center of every Eucharistic Prayer, we proclaim the Mystery of Faith in as little as ten words.  “Christ has died.  Christ is risen.  Christ will come again.”  This week we fully enter into the Mystery and take our time as we journey with Jesus and his disciples from the triumphant entry into Jerusalem through the events recalled, celebrated and relived that are part of our Palm/Passion Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil and Easter morning experiences.

     The prayer above is proclaimed before the first Gospel this weekend and the blessing of the Palms.  The words challenge us, especially if like me, you are questioning whether we have properly prepared our hearts.  This week gives us another opportunity to slow down, reflect and pray in our personal lives and in the company of the church.

      Three years ago, I wrote a similar reflection, not long after beginning as pastor of All Saints on the Hudson. I could never have imagined then the blessings that would come: the opportunity to now serve both Corpus Christi and All Saints, communities rich in faith, filled with loving, generous, and compassionate people. I must also mention how blessed I have been lately to reconnect with so many of my extended parish family and friends who have continued to play a beautiful part of my life.

     This year, as I prayed over Luke’s Gospel, I was struck again by how uniquely he tells the story of Jesus’ Passion. There are two moments in particular that shine with the mercy and humility of Christ. Only in Luke’s Gospel do we hear those hauntingly beautiful words:  “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)  Even as He is being crucified, Jesus is thinking not of Himself, but of others—of mercy, not vengeance.

     Luke also gives us the story of the repentant thief:  the one who, in his final moments, turns to Jesus and says: “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”  (Luke 23:42) And Jesus replies, not with a promise for some far off time, but a promise for today:  “Today you will be with Me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

     These words are not only comforting but they are a call for us to view each other with greater love and compassion.  Our Lord Jesus Christ is revealed as the One who not only forgives our sins but in the midst of his own suffering, loves us fiercely and with unmatched grace.  The mercy of God is ever-present.

As we follow Jesus from His triumphant entry into Jerusalem through to the Passion of our Lord, we walk with the One who always walks with us, whether we are celebrating a victory or are in despair. Never giving up on us, He restores us to new life. May God bless you abundantly this Holy Week and may the Risen Christ fill you with peace.

 “O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them... I have promised, and I will do it, says the Lord.”          Ezekiel 37:12-14

Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”

The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, 

and his face was wrapped in a cloth.

So Jesus said to them, “Untie him and let him go.”

Now many of the Jews who had come to Mary

and seen what he had done began to believe in him.   John 11.43-45

As we approach the final stretch of Lent, the words of the prophet Ezekiel prepare us as they did for the friends and family of Mary, Martha and Lazarus that Jesus is truly the Messiah, the One for whom they have waited so long.  There is not only the physical manifestation of the grave opened but a reminder to all of us that God unleashes us from the tombs of what deadens us to love and new life: doubt, despair, sinfulness, fear and anguish.  Like Lazarus we have the power of the Spirit to free us, especially when as a community of disciples we untie the restraints of all that holds us down and unwrap all that keeps us bound and constrained.  

My choice to begin my reflection with the closing lines of John’s Gospel this week is something I truly have been grappling with for a couple of days.  I want to highlight the image of Martha in this blog and it is almost as if she is forgotten about at the end.  It implies the crowd had come to be with her sister, placing Martha on the sidelines.  That couldn’t be further from the truth because she is seen as the star player in multiple ways throughout all the developing moments.

Martha is a champion for all those who have been afraid to question the actions of God.  Luke’s Gospel introduced us to a woman who was not afraid to chide Jesus into asking her sister for help.  This woman of action was obviously frustrated by the contemplative side of her sister, Mary, who did not appear the least bit concerned of all the household tasks.  When reflecting on those times when the burdens of home or work life seem to fall upon us, we know from the vantage point that she speaks.

The image of Martha is seen through a different lens in John’s Gospel but we still see a strong woman.  Despite her sorrow and grief, she is not afraid to confront Jesus as he intentionally has taken his time to be with her family when she needed him most: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  (John 11.21)  I imagine her tone being full of disappointment and pain but as she seemingly puts Jesus in his place, she instinctively returns to her hope and complete trust in Him: “But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”  (John 11.22)

Martha is able to transfer her anger and grief through her being open and honest, which only nurtures her faith.   That will widen and deepen when Jesus reveals himself as “The Resurrection and the Life” (John 11.25) and she is able to recognize, in turn, who her friend truly is, “I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” (John 11.27)

Martha could have been basking in her encounter with Jesus Christ but subtly and carefully invites her sister to join him.  She unselfishly passes the torch and Mary will follow in her sister’s footsteps with the same proclamation of faith.  Did Jesus explicitly ask for the sister or did the Holy Spirit inspire Martha to pass on the invitation?  May we, like Martha, extend the invitation to encounter Christ more fully. 

This weekend, as we celebrate the Third Scrutiny, we surround our Elect with prayer and support. These are the men and women preparing for the waters of Baptism at the Easter Vigil. But let us also lift up the adults preparing for full Communion and Confirmation, the children preparing to receive Jesus in the Eucharist for the first time, and the teens preparing to be sealed with the Holy Spirit in Confirmation.

We are a community on the move—meeting Jesus right where we are. Each of these sacramental journeys is a Lazarus moment. Each of these souls hears the voice of Christ calling, “Come out!” And, like the community in the Gospel, it is our role to untie them and let them go free—to walk beside them as they come to new life.

We are living in difficult times, and it’s only natural to have conflicted feelings or opposing views.  Let us not lose sight of what it truly important and what Jesus does in calling us to journey together.  Like Martha, let us not give up on one another, or lose faith in Jesus, the Christ, who even now is calling us to rise to the occasion.  God bless you!

I kept the right ones out

And let the wrong ones in

Had an angel of mercy to see me through all my sins

There were times in my life

When I was goin' insane

Tryin' to walk through the pain…

I am not beginning with Scripture today but with the opening lyrics of “Amazing,” the 1993 song written by Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. What I find so amazing about this song is how it captures the angst, anxiety, pain, and suffering which is born from addiction, mistakes, and personal demons. It begins in darkness, in a place of being lost and alone, but then, something shifts. Hope breaks through:

It’s amazing

With the blink of an eye you finally see the light…

Since my early years of the priesthood, I have connected this song with the story of the Man Born Blind in John’s Gospel. Not because he battled the same issues as the songwriter, but because he understood loneliness, pain and suffering, whether from past mistakes or mere circumstance. He lived in darkness, yes, but what made it worse was how others saw him. In his time, people believed blindness was a punishment for sin whether it was his own or that of his ancestors.

Like the Samaritan woman at the well in last week’s Gospel, this man encounters Jesus, who does not condemn or ignore him but reaches out with compassion and grace. Jesus even invites him to take part in his own healing, directing him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. It’s not just his eyes that are opened, it’s his faith.  Physically, his sight is immediate.  Spiritually, his eyes are opened more slowly but meticulously. 

Despite the man’s miraculous healing, the blindness of others remains. Instead of rejoicing, the people around him refuse to see the truth. They make excuses, accuse him of deception, and question the authenticity of his transformation.

John’s Gospel challenges us to recognize our own spiritual blindness. Those we would have assumed were gifted by clear insight, like the religious leaders and the powerful, are exposed as blind to God’s greater truth. The man’s life has changed, but the world around him has not. That is often our reality too.

There’s a deeply human moment in this story that we might overlook: though the man’s eyes are opened, he does not recognize Jesus at first. When they first meet, he is blind. Imagine, he has been unaware that someone has been by his side the entire time, watching over him, guiding him, though he never realized it. We can all relate to the feeling we are alone only to rediscover Jesus is with us.  Jesus reintroduces us to Himself in the times of our greatest need.

While the Man Born Blind was not suffering due to any fault of his own, “Amazing” reminds us that sometimes, we do bear responsibility for our pain. We make choices that lead us into darkness. But whether our suffering is self-inflicted or beyond our control, Lent is a time for true reconciliation with Christ. It is a time to invite Jesus to remove what blinds us including our fears, our sins, and our stubborn pride, so that we can see His love clearly.

Another song, “Day by Day” from Godspell, reminds us that we are called to pray in order:

To see Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more nearly, day by day.

And in the closing words of “Amazing”, we hear a prayer that resonates for all of us:

And I’m sayin’ a prayer for the desperate hearts tonight…

We all have desperate hearts at times. But the Good News remains: Jesus is the Light of the World. No matter how deep the shadows of our pain, He is there to restore our sight. Like the Man Born Blind, who was told to go and wash, we too are invited to take an active part in our healing. We do not walk alone.  We are guided by Christ and by others, just as we are called to be guides for those still struggling to see.

May Christ be the Light on your journey, and may you, in turn, be a beacon of hope to others.

God bless you. Have an Amazing Lent.

Jesus took Peter, John, and James

and went up the mountain to pray.

While he was praying his face changed in appearance

and his clothing became dazzling white.

And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah,

who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus

that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.   Luke 9.28-31

This week we are graced by the Gospel of Luke’s powerful telling of the Transfiguration. Initially, it appears that Jesus had taken Peter, James, and John up the mountain to pray as he undoubtedly had done often before.  What appears to be something ordinary becomes, at once, extraordinary.   It is in the context of prayer that Jesus’ glory is revealed through the amazing Transfiguration.  The Apostles may not yet fully understand what this means but they clearly would have seen this powerful moment as an extension of the faith rooted in the Jewish law and prophets, well represented by Moses and Elijah.   

Luke’s account is different from the other Synoptic Gospels because he reveals exactly of what they were conversing.  The three figures are discussing not the Exodus of Moses nor the plight of Elijah but the journey that Jesus will take to and through Jerusalem into the Paschal Mystery.  Jesus’ own exodus into suffering and death will lead to the Resurrection and the glorified state that is prefigured in his appearance at the Transfiguration.  The fact that this is rooted in their prayer is important as is the fact that we will learn that the Apostles are transformed themselves by this experience.

The Transfiguration is a pivotal moment.  Saint John Paul II, in his promotion of the Luminous Mysteries of the Holy Rosary, called the Transfiguration, enshrined as the second decade, as the “mystery of light par excellence”, because it uniquely reveals the divine radiance of Jesus as the beloved Son of the Father.   The voice from Heaven that was heard at Jesus’ baptism is now repeated to the Apostles: “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.”  Luke 9.35

Since the days I pastored multiple communities that came together as Transfiguration Parish, I have found the richness of the Gospel accounts on many different levels.  Like Peter, we have all experienced spiritual highs that we want to recapture, much like lightning in a bottle.  He wants to capture the moment and make it last by creating three tents for Jesus, Moses and Elijah to inhabit.   He is missing the point!  None of them, Jesus especially, can be pinned down.  Each in their own ways is meant to continue their journey.  At the same time, Moses and Elijah have now fulfilled their missions and their journey continues through our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Mission of our Lord will be fulfilled through his suffering, death and resurrection but it too continues on, now through us.  Since the great commissioning and the ascension of our Lord Jesus from the mountain tops, we have been emboldened to continue our own journeys, strengthened by the Law, inspired by the Prophets and Saints, and fortified by the Word and the Sacraments.   We are also inspired by past and future generations who like those in the Synoptic Gospels, view life from a unique perspective. 

Across the Diocese of Albany, we’ve seen a resurgence of young adult groups gathering for prayer and liturgies, Eucharistic adoration, retreats, service projects and social events.  I’m thrilled to share the next opportunity for spiritual growth as a community will be right here at home.  Along with All Saints on the Hudson, we are honored to host Bishop Edward Scharfenberger for a special evening of reflection on Wednesday, March 26 from 6:30 to 8:30 PM in the Corpus Christi Parish Hall.   He will facilitate a discussion about how we can together overcome the struggles, temptations and challenges of our lives.  The focus on young adults has been broadened as a concerted effort to include all ages for an event based on successful Generations of Faith programs in the past.     

The evening will include hors d'oeuvres, desserts, and refreshments, and while there will be an opportunity to share a free-will offering to promote future events, there is no cost to attend.   While people will be traveling far and wide, many will be represented by our extended area.  Hosting in Lent could not be more timely or convenient for our people.  Don’t miss this amazing opportunity.   

In addition to this powerful event, I’d also like to offer a more personal opportunity for reflection throughout Lent. Starting on Thursday, March 20, I’ll be offering a three-week reflection series based on the Scrutiny Gospels proclaimed during our liturgies for those preparing to join the Church at Easter. Each Thursday, we’ll gather immediately after the 9:00 AM Mass at the All Saints on the Hudson Chapel and again after the 6:00 PM Mass at Corpus Christi to reflect on the upcoming Sunday readings. The themes will include:

March 20: The Woman at the Well – How do we encounter Christ when we feel most unworthy?

March 27: The Man Born Blind – How does faith allow us to see differently?

April 3: The Raising of Lazarus – How does Christ lead us from death to new life?

These simple, 30-minute gatherings will hopefully deepen our Lenten journey as will other opportunities I will share in more detail next week.   Let us remember that the Transfiguration was never meant to keep the disciples on the mountaintop. Our own experiences of prayer, worship, and community are no different. They are meant to transform us, sustain us, and equip us for the road before us.  I pray that this Lent will be a time of renewal and growth for us all.  God bless you!

"One does not live on bread alone." 

 (Luke 4.4 mirroring Deuteronomy 8:3)

"You shall worship the Lord, your God, and Him alone shall you serve."

(Luke 4.8 mirroring Deuteronomy 6:13)

"You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test."   

(Luke 4.12 mirroring Deuteronomy 6:16)

As we began Lent this past Wednesday, we received ashes with the words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Or, “Repent, and believe in the Gospel.” Our journey begins in a spirit of humility and repentance, but ultimately, it is about something even more important.  It is an awareness that the true Good News is our relationship with God.

Lent invites us to reflect on what it truly means to be children of God. It is not merely about guilt and self-denial, but about responding with thanksgiving and gratitude to a God who loves us and invites us to grow. It is about taking a step back to remember not only what is most important about ourselves, but also the role of God’s love in our world. Through Jesus’ self-emptying into our human existence, we see that God has empathy for the challenges of life, including our temptations and frailties. The greatest temptation may well be the illusion that we are on our own and somehow in control.

Each year, on the First Sunday of Lent, we hear one of the Gospels from Matthew, Mark, or Luke recounting the Temptation of Jesus in the desert. These 40 days not only reflect our own Lenten journey, but they also serve as a foundation for our lives when we realize that this occurs at the very beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.  

In Luke’s Gospel, the Temptation follows Jesus’ baptism and His genealogy, which traces His lineage all the way back to Adam, the son of God. Just before entering the desert, Jesus hears the voice from heaven: “You are my Beloved Son; with You, I am well pleased.”  (Luke 3.23b)  After forty days, and when he is at his most vulnerable, the Evil One attacks.   The three temptations are really about sowing doubt: “If you are the Son of God…”  (Luke 4.3 & 9)  These words strike at the heart of Jesus’ identity. And isn’t that how temptation works in our own lives? It distorts the truth of who we are and lures us with earthly things into believing we are someone other than who we truly are. 

Lent is our opportunity to reclaim our identity as God's beloved children. Too often, we see a world driven by self-indulgence, power, fame, and the misconception that God will accommodate selfish choices. But Lent calls us to something greater. It calls us to humility, to renewal of heart, and to a perspective shaped by openness, forgiveness, and truth. It invites us to see others with compassion rather than judgment and to trust in a God who truly loves and cares for us.

May this Lenten season lead us to recognize and resist temptations in our lives, opening us to rediscover that deeper life to which God calls us - to live as children who share with others our faith, our hope and our love.  May this Lenten season renew us and help us bring each other closer to the Beloved.  God bless you!   

Jesus told his disciples a parable,
"Can a blind person guide a blind person?
Will not both fall into a pit?
No disciple is superior to the teacher;
but when fully trained,
every disciple will be like his teacher."       Luke 6:39-40

Our Gospel this weekend continues the sixth chapter of Luke, immediately following the words, "the measure by which you measure will be measured out to you." Writing two blogs back-to-back, I’m especially mindful of last week’s message and how the Sermon on the Plain continues this Sunday. I have chosen to focus on these opening words, which lead into the well-known challenge: "Why do you see the splinter in your neighbor’s eye before you remove the plank from your own?" (Lk 6:41) This vivid image, though almost absurd in its exaggeration, strikes at the heart of a profound truth we have heard countless times.

In some Christian traditions, this weekend marks Transfiguration Sunday, the final Sunday before Lent. While we will reflect on the Transfiguration during Lent, other traditions choose to celebrate it now to connect it with Epiphany and the Presentation of the Lord. Each of these feasts centers on the revelation of divine truth, using imagery of light piercing the darkness.

The passage I’ve highlighted ties into the image of the blind leading the blind. How often do we fall into that trap (or pit!)? Lent is a time to reexamine what it truly means to be a disciple. During this season, we aspire to grow in the likeness of the Good Shepherd, the Great Teacher, and seek the grace to train ourselves in living a more thoughtful and loving life. This may require us to focus less on the faults of others and instead look inward—removing the obstacles in our own lives that prevent us from seeing God’s love more clearly. And in that light, we can shine brighter.

As we approach the holy season of Lent, I encourage each of us to embrace this sacred time with open hearts and minds. Lent is not merely a season of sacrifice but an opportunity for renewal:  a time to deepen our relationship with Christ through prayer, fasting, and giving generously. In the coming weeks, both Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson will offer many spiritual opportunities, discussion groups, and prayer services to help guide us on this journey. Details will be shared in next week's bulletin, and I invite you to take advantage of these shared moments of grace with our brothers and sisters.

Let us also continue to pray for our Holy Father, Pope Francis, as his health has recently declined. May the Lord strengthen him in his ministry and grant him peace.  May his example encourage us to live our lives in the footsteps of the saint whose name he chose as he entered his grace-filled papacy.  God bless Pope Francis and all of us, especially those close to our hearts and never far from our minds.

As we prepare to enter this sacred season, let us close with a prayer that Pope Francis frequently shares with the world, the Prayer of St. Francis.  May its message help us see each other more clearly as it helps us to remove the splinters and other obstacles in our sight.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled, as to console,

to be understood, as to understand,

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

“Stop judging and you will not be judged.  Stop condemning and you will not be condemned.

Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give, and gifts will be given to you;

a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,

will be poured into your lap.

For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.  Luke 6.37,38

Our Gospel which continues the Sermon on the Plain that was proclaimed last weekend concludes with these words which come to life to me because of lessons taught to me by my grandmother.  The passage follows Luke’s rendering of the Christian Golden Rule: Do to others as you would have them do to you. In a world that interprets this as ‘do onto others before they can do it to you,’ I recall a simpler time in my life when I took for granted many family stories which told of fairness and goodness.

I cannot help but think of my grandmother Phyllis when I hear these verses from Luke. She was born in 1895 to a large, blended family of eighteen children which was a result of her parents losing their first spouses in tragic accidents. Her father, well into his 50’s when she was born, was born James Kenny, but he had later changed his name to James Kinney to avoid the anti-Irish prejudices of the time.  He had fought in the Civil War and afterwards was able to purchase a General Store, thanks to the generous loan by a fellow soldier’s family. That purchase required him to appear of English descent rather than Irish in order to secure a post office within their walls, which was the common operation of post offices at the time.  My grandmother grew up working in that store and its success allowed her to go to college, rare for a woman of her time.

I was born in 1961 and can remember neighborhood stores but what fascinated me about her accounts was how many items were not pre-packaged. Flour, sugar, coffee, oatmeal, and even bars of soap had to be measured or weighed. Many of their customers were Polish and Italian immigrants who spoke little or no English.  My grandmother was taught to smile and look everyone in the eye.  Her father showed her how to carefully level the measurements, pressing down to remove air, and then, adding just a little extra so they wouldn’t feel cheated. This was her father’s way of respecting the dignity of each person.  The measure with which you measure will be measured back to you.

I am sure my great-grandfather knew how to treat customers well, and I like to think of this not only being good for business but part of his following the Golden Rule.  He also knew what it was like to face prejudice and scorn, even from his own family, and his wife’s, because they thought the name change made him a traitor.

While she left her career to get married and have children, my grandmother returned to teaching at a time when her extended family thought it was a scandal that she worked.  This was her passion and I think her father’s example affected how she treated her class.  She loved all her students, no matter what their background. She used to tell a humorous story from the 1950’s about trying to make sure that Jewish students didn’t feel left out when discussing Christmas and the birth of Baby Jesus. (Can you imagine a time when you could talk about these things in public schools?)  Trying to include them, she once asked a class of third graders, “So what do the Jews think of Jesus?” The rabbi’s daughter shot up her hand and, reflecting the dynamics of the neighborhood, said with a big smile, “The Jews used to like Jesus, until his mother turned Irish!”  She told that story so often; I can still hear her voice and her laughter.   That innocent child who most likely faced her own challenges from society showed an insight about how we see one another.

The Gospel challenges us to rise above our prejudices, resentments and in some cases true anger after being mistreated.  Perhaps a civil war veteran, an older woman and a young girl can remind us that with good will, and just a little extra measure of kindness, respect, and humor, we can make a difference in showing how to live the Golden Rule.   God bless you, your family and our extended family in Christ.  

Jesus came down with the Twelve

and stood on a stretch of level ground

with a great crowd of his disciples

and a large number of the people

from all Judea and Jerusalem

and the coastal region of Tyre and Sidon.

And raising his eyes toward his disciples he said:

            “Blessed are you who are poor,

                        for the kingdom of God is yours.

            Blessed are you who are now hungry,

                        for you will be satisfied.

            Blessed are you who are now weeping,

                        for you will laugh.

            Blessed are you when people hate you,

                        and when they exclude and insult you,

                        and denounce your name as evil

                        on account of the Son of Man.

Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!

Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.

For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.

            But woe to you who are rich,

                        for you have received your consolation.

            Woe to you who are filled now,

                        for you will be hungry.

            Woe to you who laugh now,

                        for you will grieve and weep.

            Woe to you when all speak well of you,

                        for their ancestors treated the false prophets in this way.”  Luke 6:17,20-26

And raising his eyes toward his disciples Jesus said:

            “Blessed are you…Blessed are you…Blessed are you…Blessed are you…”

Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!

Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.

For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.

            But…”Woe to you…Woe to you…Woe to you…Woe to you…”

                        for you have received your consolation.    Portions of Luke 6.20-26

There’s a well-known quote, often attributed to Dorothy Day and others, that captures the very essence of the Beatitudes in Luke, and highlights what sets them apart from the version we’re more familiar with in Matthew’s Gospel. The quote says that Jesus came to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”

In Luke’s Gospel, we hear similar uplifting words spoken to the poor, the hungry, and the sorrowful, but these blessings are immediately followed by stark warnings, the woes, leveled on those who enjoy comfort and privilege in the here and now. These “woes” are a challenge, a wake-up call to those who inflict pain rather than ease it, to those who cling to wealth and power while others suffer. The contrast is striking and even unsettling, reminding us that Jesus' message isn’t just about our personal comfort, it’s about standing up for social justice and walking in communion with the most vulnerable in our world.

While writing this reflection, I found myself at a crossroads. I had put these thoughts into words, but I wasn’t sure how much further to go or in what direction.  I also began looking at the privileged life I lead and if I have done enough for others whose lives are so much more difficult than mine.  Then, in a moment of true grace, a friend interrupted my frustration by offering to pray. She brought with her the words of St. John of the Cross, which put everything into perspective:

 “I saw the river over which every soul must pass to reach the Kingdom of Heaven and the name of the river was ‘Suffering’; and I saw the boat which carries souls across the river, and the name of that boat was ‘Love’.”

This powerful message is one that both consoles and challenges us. In a world that feels increasingly divided, may we take these words to heart.  May we remember the Greatest Commandment, to love one another as God has loved us and while we are at it, to not forget to love ourselves.   May we all be blessed by the Love of God that unites us as brothers and sisters.

God bless you.

Because of Your kindness and Your truth,

You have made great above all things

Your name and Your promise.

When I called, You answered me;

You built up strength within me.  Psalm 138.2b,3.

This weekend, we will sing the Responsorial Psalm based on Psalm 138, a beautiful Psalm of Thanksgiving. Unlike psalms filled with lament and pleading, Psalm 138 overflows with joy and gratitude to a God who is loyal, caring and responsive to our needs. Depending on what is happening in our lives, this Psalm may not always feel easy to relate to. Many of us know what it is like to call upon God, the Blessed Mother, or a favorite saint and wonder if our prayers have truly been heard, especially when the answers we hope for don’t come as we expect. Still, deep in our hearts, we trust that God is listening and responding, offering us strength even in the midst of doubt.

Psalm 138 is a fitting choice to complement our readings for this Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time. Both the first reading and the Gospel speak to a call from God that demands a reciprocal response. Just as love in a relationship thrives on mutual giving and receiving, our relationship with God is one of invitation and response. This includes our openness to discerning and answering God’s call in our lives. Today, we see extraordinary examples of this in our readings. In the first reading, Isaiah, despite his initial feelings of unworthiness, offers his now-famous words: “Here I am…Send me!”—a response we’ve sung ourselves in hymns of faith.

In the midst of losses that have brought me to reflection, I have been thinking of the times when I felt called in a life-changing direction.  The recent closure of the College of Saint Rose, a place that has meant so much to the community, reminds me of the times I have spent there.   Growing up not far from its campus, I remember walking the grounds as a youth, imagining what it would be like to be as mature and confident as the students I saw there. In my mid-20s, as I discerned my vocation to the priesthood, I took my one and only course at the College of Saint Rose.   This was a comparative religion course that examined how Christianity has succeeded, and at times failed, by comparing it with other cultural and spiritual movements. It was in that class where I was first introduced to Joseph Campbell, the renowned scholar of mythology and culture.

Campbell’s groundbreaking work, "The Hero with a Thousand Faces," profoundly shaped my understanding of the universal truths that span all human experience.  Much of this was hinged on the Hero’s Journey which always began with an initial call that, through various stages, would transform people and the world around them.   Many of you might remember “The Power of Myth,” a six-part PBS series Campbell created with Bill Moyers, or as the inspiration behind the mythology of George Lucas’ Star Wars. Campbell’s insights invite us to see our lives as part of a larger story—a journey filled with calls to adventure, challenges, and life-changing moments.  In response to how Joseph Campbell had influenced his journey, George Lucas was called upon to deliver his funeral eulogy at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City.

In a special and spiritual way, all Christians are called to live the life of saints and heroes by answering the call of discipleship.  Like Isaiah, we probably hesitate and may not always feel worthy of such a calling. That’s where God’s grace steps in. In our Gospel today, we see this very struggle unfold in the lives of Peter and his companions. After a long night of fishing with no success, they are exhausted and defeated.  It is in this moment, when hope is lost and defeat has settled in, that Jesus steps onto the boat.  He tells them to push out into the deep waters in a not so subtle metaphor! 

Though reluctant, they agree to respond to what was asked of them. And in an instant, their nets overflow with fish. Without the help of others, they would have been completely overwhelmed.   Peter, realizing the divine power at work, collapses before Jesus. Feeling unworthy and overcome, he cries out, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  Jesus does not leave. Instead, He offers reassurance, calming Peter’s fears and inadequacies. With profound love and purpose, He calls Peter to something greater: “From now on, you will be catching men.”

Peter’s story reminds us that God's call often comes when we feel least prepared or deserving. It is during these times, however, through God’s grace and the power of a supportive community, we are more prepared to respond than we could ever imagine.   Like Peter, we are invited to put behind our doubts, cast our trust in Jesus, and leave the sometimes shallow aspects of life in order to venture deeper.  

We need our faith communities to support God’s call, especially in light of how those in leadership positions, including me, are often thrown in different directions.  Many people don’t hear the call in their lives because it is not being properly communicated.  That is why through prayer we can listen even during those times when other aspects of our lives don’t express this properly.  Let us all commit to praying for each other and for all the potential saints and heroes that live their lives throughout the world.

God bless you all and thank you for your support and kindnesses as I attempt to answer the call in my own life.  As in the psalm, you build up strength within me!   I feel blessed to be a part of our parishes and look forward to us continuing the Hero’s Journey of our Lord Jesus Christ.

    “Now, Master, you may let your servant go 

        in peace, according to your word,

    for my eyes have seen your salvation,

        which you prepared in the sight of all the peoples:

    a light for revelation to the Gentiles,

        and glory for your people Israel.”   Luke 2.29-32

As I write these words, I am recuperating from the flu, which seems to be making its rounds. Taking it a little easy is helping me regain my footing after recent losses that have taken their toll. Part of healing comes from the consolation of knowing that people of faith now have their hopes fulfilled as they live on in God’s love. This Sunday, we take a break from the Fourth Week of Ordinary Time to celebrate the Feast of the Presentation, observed each year on February 2nd, marking the fortieth day of Christmas. While the Twelve Days of Christmas conclude with Epiphany, this feast reminds us how the seasons share common themes. Traditionally marked by the blessing of candles and often referred to as Candlemas, it is a beautiful bridge connecting Christmas and Lent within the rhythm of Ordinary Time.

The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple by Mary and Joseph is highlighted not so much by the ritual itself as by the wonderful reception from two wisdom figures, Simeon and Anna, who cross paths with the Holy Family in separate but parallel ways. Each proclaims rich words that have come to be known as canticles, such as the one attributed to Simeon above. These words are shared daily as part of Night Prayer, encouraging us to sleep soundly, knowing that God is with us and one day we will dwell fully in the presence of the Lord.

At my friend Father Thomas Holmes’ funeral, I quoted other canticles attributed to Zechariah and the Blessed Mother. I was also mindful of the Gospel he preplanned: “In my Father’s House, there are many dwelling places.” (John 14.2a)  For Anna and Simeon, the temple was not merely a sacred space where people came to pray; it was truly the place where God dwelled. If you recall, Jesus himself will remain in his Father’s House for a time, much to the anxiety of Mary and Joseph, who feared they had lost Him. Today’s readings paint dramatic images of how change refines and strengthens us in light of God’s presence.  As difficult as the process is, we are reminded not to let our hearts be troubled 

Just a week after losing Father Tom, I received word of the passing of Sister Francesca Husselbeck, a Religious Sister of Mercy, and celebrated her funeral at the end of the same week. While preparing my homily, I came across a pastor’s blog I had written nearly ten years ago. It highlighted how both she and my beloved aunt were true wisdom figures in my life, serving as mentors and godmothers to me in profound ways.

My aunt, Ellen Harmon, was 87 years old when that blog was written and passed away unexpectedly less than a month after I published it. Sister Fran, who was ten years younger than her at the time, was touched by the comparison because she knew how much love and respect I had for them both. Each had unique ways of sharing their gifts and talents throughout their lives. As age and circumstances began to slow them down, their prayer lives deepened, continuing to draw them closer to God.

My aunt was my actual godmother, but I often likened Sister Francesca Husselbeck, RSM, to the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella because of how she could turn ordinary situations into profound experiences, almost like magic. She had a gift for making impossible dreams a reality by believing in people and encouraging them to believe not only in themselves but in God. She didn’t tell people to merely wish harder but inspired them to pray with true faith, trust in God, sincere hope, and mutual love.

On this Feast of the Presentation, let us not only bless the candles but also honor the true lights in our lives: those who have made a difference, serving as beacons of Christ’s Light. Many of these lights now shine on us from their dwelling place in heaven, but they continue to illuminate our world in ways that break through the darkness.

Let us take up the torch of their lasting legacies and continue to make a difference. May we honor this feast by presenting our Lord to a world yearning for connection and light. Let us take a moment to appreciate the wisdom figures that are still with us, though perhaps slowing down due to age or infirmity. Let us cherish their faith, hope, and love while we can, sharing moments of conversation and grace here and now, rather than waiting for a distant future.

Let us show gratitude for all they have done for our churches, families, and communities. How blessed we are that God has brought them into our lives!

As we remember those who have enlightened our journeys, let us also reflect on ourselves at our youngest—when we were first called to be Children of the Light. Let us remember the youthful hymn and truly let our light shine for others.

God bless you.

He came to Nazareth, where he had grown up, and went according to his custom into the synagogue on the sabbath day. He stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the passage where it was written:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.

Rolling up the scroll, he handed it back to the attendant and sat down, and the eyes of all in the synagogue looked intently at him. He said to them, "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing."            Luke 4.16-24

Our Gospel this week begins with the opening verses of Luke and then moves swiftly through the infancy narratives, Jesus’ baptism, to this passage signaling the start of his public ministry, rooted in the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy. In this powerful moment, Jesus declares that the Spirit of the Lord is upon Him, signaling that He is the Messiah for Whom they have been yearning.

Today’s Second Reading from St. Paul reminds us that the mission of Jesus continues within the church which unites us as one.   The Church is envisioned as the Body of Christ: “As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ.” (1 Corinthians 12.12)  This image is humbling and challenging, reminding us that every person is equally important in the life of the Church and that each of us has a unique role to play.

As I reflect on this passage, I find myself mourning the loss of two special people in my life with whom I shared many years of friendship and ministry. Their passing leaves emptiness but also provides an opportunity to reflect on how they used their gifts to strengthen the Body of Christ.

On the day we gathered to honor my friend Father Thomas Holmes at his wake service, I lost another friend and colleague who was also an extraordinary example of servant leadership. Both of them taught me the importance of empowering others and using their gifts to bring out the best in those around them. When I first began a pastoral assignment in the North Country, Sister Francesca Husselbeck, RSM, a Sister of Mercy, left her previous role as Director of North Country Ministry to become my partner in ministry.  She had been dedicating her life to serving and empowering disadvantaged people. For over the eight years that we worked together, she directed all aspects of parish life across multiple communities. Her leadership, skill, and love for people were immeasurable. On a personal level, Sister Fran, like Father Tom, had a remarkable way of reminding me of my own skills but also that my limitations were invitations for others to step forward with their own gifts.

Father Tom preplanned his funeral and chose Ecclesiastes 4 for his first reading: “For everything there is a season.” Sister Fran, in her parting bulletin message ten years ago, quoted the same passage, writing, “For everything there is a season! It is my time to say goodbye and initiate another dimension of my life as I join my motherhouse community. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers, as I do you, too! I leave you with all my love and a heart full of gratitude.”

My heart, too, is full of gratitude for Sr. Fran and Fr. Tom. They both inspired countless individuals to feel welcomed, valued, and cared for within their communities. They encouraged others to extend kindness and respect, embodying Christ’s mission of openness and inclusivity. In a world that often excludes, they modeled what it means to love without hesitation or condition.  They did so not only for the sake of the people they served and inspired but for the entire community, the Body of Christ.

I would like to thank the parish families of Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson for being sources of consolation and grace as I mourn the loss of these two remarkable individuals. Today, social media uses the term “influencers” to describe people who gain followers whose minds or actions are often changed because of their example.   Fr. Tom and Sr. Fran were two of the greatest influencers in my life. I hope to honor their legacy by carrying forward their spirit of generosity, unity, and love.

Let us view one another as God sees us: as beloved and important members of the Body of Christ. As we come together as one, let us give thanks for those who have gone before us, those who used their gifts to build up the Church. May we honor their legacy by continuing their mission with the same spirit of heartfelt love. God bless you, and God bless Sister Francesca and Father Thomas.

 “Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come; the glory of the Lord shines upon you. See, darkness covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but upon you the LORD shines, and over you appears his glory. Nations shall walk by your light, and kings by your shining radiance.”

As we celebrate Epiphany this weekend, the first reading from Isaiah fills us with hope and anticipation.  The traditional twelfth day of Christmas marked by the arrival of the Three Kings signifies that the Light of Christ is not just for the Chosen People but for all of us. While the ‘kings’ have been described as astrologers or magi depending on the culture that relates to them, it seems appropriate to see them as not just spiritual seekers but political leaders as well. Their kingship, unlike Herod’s, does not stand in opposition to Jesus but rather complements the truth that the Christ Child has come for all people, bringing hope even to nations that dwell in darkness.

As we begin this new year, it’s fitting to reflect on the hope that Epiphany offers us. Pope Francis, in preparing us for the Jubilee Year of 2025, has chosen the theme of “Pilgrims of Hope.” This special holy year, celebrated every 25 years in the Catholic Church, invites us to a sense of renewal and the acceptance of forgiveness.  “Hope Is a Light in the Night” is a book of a compilation of many of his writings and homilies. In it, he describes hope as a gift from God which is to be shared with others.

The story of the Magi resonates deeply with this theme. They were sojourners in search of a light in the darkness. Following the star, they embarked on a journey filled with uncertainty, trusting that their destination would reveal something greater than themselves. When they finally encountered the Christ Child, their lives were forever changed. Scripture tells us that they returned home by another route, avoiding Herod. This signifies more than just a physical change in direction, it marks a spiritual transformation. They were changed for good.

While transformed, there is no evidence that they abandoned their cultural or religious practices. The Magi remind us that the journey to Christ does not erase who we are but illuminates and fulfills our deepest longings. This is an important lesson for us as Christians: our call is not to force or impose conversion on others but to share the light of Christ in a way that brings hope and healing to all. As Pope Francis reminds us, “hope is a gift from God and a task that must be cultivated by all Christians.”

The Magi’s story also challenges us to reflect on our role as bearers of hope. The light of Christ that guided them is the same light we are called to carry into the world. In a world of war, violence and natural disaster, it is easy to succumb to discouragement or cynicism. But the message of Epiphany calls us to rise above this darkness and be a light for others. As Christians, we are called to reflect the hope of Christ in our actions, offering compassion, kindness, and mercy to those in need.

As we begin the Jubilee of 2025, let us embrace this theme of hope. Like the Magi, may we be willing to embark on the journey, trusting that the light of Christ will guide us. We also know that whatever gifts we bring will be appreciated.  Jesus accepts who we are and what we bring, forgiving any shortcomings.   In that exchange, may we be changed by our encounter with God, returning to our lives “by another route”, living as a transformed people filled with hope, love and peace.

As I write this reflection before Christmas, I find myself thinking ahead to the amazing celebrations that will already have taken place by the time we gather for Epiphany. I want to thank everyone in our parishes for coming together to make this season so meaningful. I’ve joked with colleagues that one of these years I’m tempted to write as if everything has gone incredibly wrong!   Sometimes we understand what hope is by imagining what life would be without it.  

While I am ‘hoping’ days before Christmas that things go well, this is actually rooted in the reality of the people who are striving for success.  It doesn’t take a prophet to trust in God’s people and the power of worship to unite us in celebrating the Birth of the Christ Child. What troubles me most, however, isn’t what happens within our churches but the tragedies unfolding in the world around us. The image Isaiah paints of a world at peace because we have all been enlightened is still one we need to hold on to because without it we will have to endure the alternative.

Epiphany invites us to reflect on how the light of Christ changes everything for good. It transforms how we see one another and calls us to live in justice, compassion, and peace. Here in our parishes, we see glimpses of this light in how we come together to worship and reach out to the community. But the work isn’t finished. Isaiah reminds us that the nations will walk by God’s light, but only if that light shines brightly through us. For Christians, world-wide conversion is a dream, but perhaps we must first hope that our Light will serve as an example to all so they may find  a new, but their own, way home.

As we begin a new year, I want to thank you all for your loving support and the many ways you are a Light to me.  May the Light of Christ continue to live in your hearts and may the Love of Christ inspire all.   God bless you!!!  

Brothers and sisters:

Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,

heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience,

bearing with one another and forgiving one another, 

if one has a grievance against another; 

as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.

And over all these put on love, 

that is, the bond of perfection.

The Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph is unique and special in many ways. In years when Christmas falls on a Sunday, this feast is celebrated on the Thursday after so as not to interrupt the January 1st observance of Mary, the Mother of God. When a Sunday falls between December 25th and New Year’s Day, however, we celebrate this feast, which also offers some choices for the readings proclaimed, though always with a Gospel designated for the liturgical cycle. This year, we reflect not only on the 'finding' of Jesus in the temple but also on the human experience Mary and Joseph had of losing Him in the first place.

After a day of traveling with their extended family, Mary and Joseph discover that Jesus is not with them. Their very human reaction is one we can all relate to as we imagine the panic and anxiety they must have felt.   As astonished as her husband Joseph must have been to find Jesus at such a young age teaching in the temple, Mary confronts her son with a sharp accusation like that of any parent: “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.”

Jesus’ response sounds like a retort given to us by children of a certain age, referencing His Heavenly Father in a way that could feel like a jab to His earthly one. Yet we hear that He ultimately returned home with Mary and Joseph, was obedient to them, and the Gospel concludes this glimpse into the only reference we have to the rest of His childhood with these words: “And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.”

The second reading I prefer for this feast is St. Paul’s powerful words to the Colossians. It paints a beautiful and poignant image of what it means to “put on Christ.” Above all, we are to “put on love,” which Paul calls the bond of perfection. For Paul, perfection does not mean being without faults or failings. Instead, it means becoming the person God calls us to be, fulfilling our unique role as His beloved disciples. This love is not an outer garment protecting us from the elements but a shield within us that helps us safely strengthen the bond of love that is not just our gift but also one to be shared.

As I enter a new year serving multiple families and communities within our two parishes, I am struck by how blessed I am to have the image of the Holy Family to inspire us.  We can aspire to the ideal but also feel encouraged by how much we can truly identify with them.  Like Mary and Joseph, we are on a journey, and there are times when we must search for their Son, who at moments seems distant. Like them, we too experience frustration, fear, and even anger—whether at each other, at life’s challenges, or sometimes even at God.  We may cry out, “Why have You done this to us?” It is often in those very moments of feeling lost that Jesus is seeking to bring us home, just as Mary and Joseph did for Him. Ultimately, our destination is the Father’s house, where no one is lost, and all are found.

The Holy Family, being seemingly perfect and literally ‘holier than thou’, faced tensions and anxieties, much like our own families. Joseph’s journey was fraught with challenges, yet he persevered. Although we do not hear about him after the Gospel story this week, his legacy as our patron and guide continues. Mary, too, faced both sorrow and joy, continually pondering and treasuring these moments in her heart. Her ultimate glory reminds us of the promise awaiting all of us.

We look to the Holy Family as both a model and a source of encouragement, knowing their lives, like ours, had their struggles. Their unwavering faith, hope, and love remind us of what the true bond of perfection truly is and can be. This bond calls us to be compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, and patient not only with others. but also with ourselves.

As we begin this New Year, my hope and prayer are that Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson will continue to grow as an extended family, drawn together by God’s love. This love shines through the Sacraments and the community that gathers in the name of Jesus Christ.  At our best, we are one family. At our worst, like all families, we can be a little dysfunctional. Through it all, God’s grace keeps us together.

I am writing this blog two weeks before you will see it, due to bulletin deadlines and office closures. Even so, I am already looking forward to the gatherings of families who return home for our Christmas celebrations. My hope is that they felt welcomed and loved, and that they always feel they have a place in our homes.  Our parish family is richer for their presence.  Let us continue to look for those who are lost and allow them to find us as well.

May the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph pray for us and model what it means to care and love our extended family.  God bless you!

Speaking of families, please join me at two special events that are described more fully elsewhere in the bulletin.  Next week, we are hosting a special concert at All Saints on the Hudson putting the spotlight on the heritages and legacies of different cultures. The following week, both parishes are hosting a special program designed to help parents and concerned adults empower young people to strengthen their self-esteem and combat bullying.  Please join me and other members of our family for these two important events.

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, 

where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, 

and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, 

“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.

Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”      Luke 1.39-45

As we approach the celebration of Christmas, the Gospel for the Fourth Sunday of Advent draws our attention to the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth, two extraordinary women who embody faith, hope, and joy. Luke’s account reveals a moment of profound connection: a joyful encounter between two relatives who are true soul sisters as they support and inspire each other to recognize and celebrate the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives. This Gospel reminds us of the importance of those who journey with us, of the family we form through faith, and the astonishing ways in which God’s promises are fulfilled.

In a homily focused on this Gospel years ago, Pope Francis called us to embrace a sense of “astonishment” in our faith journey.  Like Mary and Elizabeth, we are called to pause and reflect on the extraordinary ways God is present to us. “To celebrate Christmas in a fruitful manner,” Pope Francis says, “we are called to pause in ‘places’ of astonishment.” To paraphrase the Holy Father, these are moments when we deeply feel the astonishment of seeing Jesus in the face of all we encounter.  We also are called to reflect on God’s faithfulness in history as we recall those that have gone before us.  Even when our enthusiasm wanes for our Church, we also are called to see how communities become places that welcome and strengthen us. 

At Christmas, we are especially reminded of the importance of family, not only those that share our blood or marriage ties but those whom we join in order to feel at home. This season invites us to come together with those we love, setting aside differences and focusing on the joy of being with one another. Here in our parish families of All Saints on the Hudson and Corpus Christi, we strive to welcome everyone with open hearts.  Whether you are here every week, visiting from far away, or simply seeking a place to reconnect with your faith, you belong here.

I am especially grateful for all those who truly make our churches places that are special and inviting.  Thanks to all that is done by our staff, ministers and volunteers, wonderful things are accomplished through our faith formation, pastoral care, service and outreach.  This week, I am especially grateful for all our liturgical ministers, including our greeters, lectors, Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist, servers, ushers and sacristans who help us come together as a family.  Other family members get us ready by cleaning, decorating and transforming the environment.  Our music ministries fill the air with beauty and help capture sacred moments of astonishment.

Everyone enhances our worship and helps us all encounter the presence of Christ in profound ways.

The birth of Christ is the ultimate expression of God’s love for us and our coming together in the name of the Child. Like Mary and Elizabeth, we are called to share in the blessings of God, drawing strength from the presence of our Savior alive in the Sacraments and within each of us. As our Advent journey leads to the Christmas season, let us marvel at the wonder of the season by following the lead of all the saints and truly become united as members of the Body of Christ.  May we also never lose sight of our unity with all those who have gone before us, especially those friends, family and community members who have shared in seasons past.  My heart goes out to all those experiencing loss.

May the joy and peace of Christmas fill your homes and ours. As we celebrate the fulfillment of God’s promises, let us welcome Christ into our lives with faith, hope, and joy. And may all who enter our parishes this Christmas feel the warmth of belonging and the love of Christ reflected in our community.

“Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”   

 “Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant peace in our days, that, by the help of your mercy, we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”

As I look back at some of my Blogs, I realize that I tend to return to these two different translations of what the priest proclaims immediately after the “Our Father”.  You may recall the first is from the Sacramentary which speaks of “joyful hope” a true theme of this week.  Still, to wait for “blessed hope”, the translation of the New Missal, most likely touches our own experience, especially if joy is lacking and the struggles of life make hope difficult.  Each of the prayers capture a profound Advent truth: our yearning for the Lord is rooted in a desire to be kept free and delivered from sin, freed from anxiety and safe from distress, and ultimately in the desire for God to grant us peace. 

This theme of joyful, blessed hope is brought to life on Gaudete Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, when we light the rose-colored candle on the Advent wreath. This candle stands apart from the more penitential purple ones, symbolizing the joy that comes as we draw nearer to Christ’s birth. The name “Gaudete” comes from St. Paul’s exhortation in Philippians 4:4: “Rejoice in the Lord always!” These words, echoed in the liturgy, remind us that the coming of the Lord is not only a future hope but a present reality that brings peace to our lives here and now.  In the ultimate exclamation of “Hope”, the psalmist proclaims without doubt, “The Lord is coming to save us. Let us rejoice and be glad!”

Yet, this joy is not meant to be passive. To truly “rejoice always,” we must often work hard to prepare our hearts. One of the most powerful ways to do this is through the Sacraments, especially Reconciliation and Anointing of the Sick. These sacred encounters with God’s mercy free us from the sins and anxieties that weigh us down, allowing us to experience the peace that Christ offers.

This Advent, I encourage you to take advantage of the additional opportunities for Reconciliation in our two parishes.  On Monday, December 16, I will participate in a Communal Reconciliation Service for our entire network of parishes at St. Edward the Confessor at 6:00 pm. (I will be available at St. Peter Church starting at 4:30 pm that evening but will leave around 5:30 pm, earlier than first announced.)  I invite you to join us as we open our hearts to God’s mercy and prepare to welcome Christ with renewed peace and joy.

Let us truly embrace the spirit of Gaudete Sunday, allowing the light of the rose-colored candle to remind us of the blessed, joyful hope we have in Christ.  Once again, as St. Paul urges us: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I say it again: Rejoice! The Lord is near” (Philippians 4:4-5).   Knowing that Jesus is always close to us, let us also rejoice and be glad as Christmas draws near.

Let us pray for each other on our Advent Adventure, now turning the corner as symbolized by the color pink.  May this journey find you rejoicing and not giving up hope in a world that so dearly needs joyful individuals to lift us up, emotionally as well as spiritually.  God bless you.   

Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I pray always with joy in my every prayer for all of you,

because of your partnership for the gospel

from the first day until now.

I am confident of this,

that the one who began a good work in you

will continue to complete it

until the day of Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 1:4-6

The Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians overflows with a pastor’s deep love and gratitude for his people—a heartfelt acknowledgment of their shared mission to be disciples.  As I reflect on these words, I cannot help but echo Paul’s sentiment, feeling truly blessed by the commitment and generosity of our parish communities. I am continually amazed by the many ways you give of yourselves, not just to one another, but for the greater good of the Church and our shared mission in Christ.

Paul’s image of “partnership” resonates powerfully with me, especially as I reflect on the recent concert at St. Edward the Confessor. Under the inspired direction of Wayne Hawkins, Corpus Christi’s gifted music director, this event brought together diverse talents from within our network of parishes and beyond, including several priests who sang beautifully alongside others.   The blending of ancient chant with jazz music that Wayne newly arranged was a profound reminder that collaboration often gives rise to beauty that transcends usual pairings. This concert was not just an evening of music—it was a visible sign of what can happen when our communities join hands for something greater than themselves.

I am heartened by the increasing cooperation between the parishes I am privileged to pastor—All Saints on the Hudson and Corpus Christi—and even within each, the smaller communities that form each parish. How healing it is to witness people coming together for a shared purpose, reminding us that we are not isolated individuals but brought together as members of Christ’s Body.

At All Saints on the Hudson, our shared gym space is a wonderful metaphor for outreached and mutual cooperation.  In a span of several days, it has hosted everything from CYO basketball games to fundraisers, including the Catholic Daughters’ Bountiful Baskets event and a vibrant Craft and Vendor Fair. Meanwhile, our Thrift Store has been bustling with activity, and the energy of Faith Formation classes fills the air. All of this unfolds against the backdrop of community events such as the All-American Parade I mentioned in a recent blog.

Similarly, Corpus Christi has been a hub of activity, especially as we prepare for Advent. I encourage you to embrace the many opportunities available to grow spiritually, participate in fellowship, and engage in meaningful service during this sacred season.

In this spirit of partnership, I want to offer additional opportunities for spiritual renewal during Advent. I will expand my availability for the Sacraments of Reconciliation and Anointing of the Sick on the following dates and times:

Monday, December 9th and 16th, 4:45–5:45 PM at St. Peter’s Church, Stillwater.

Thursday, December 12th and 19th, 4:30–5:45 PM at Corpus Christi Church (before their Daily Mass).

Tuesday, December 17th, 5:00–6:30 PM, at Corpus Christi Daily Mass Chapel.

Wednesday, December 11th, 5:00–6:30 PM, in the Chapel at All Saints on the Hudson Parish Offices.

These times are also an opportunity to meet with me informally if you would like to share a conversation or discuss a personal concern.

Our Advent journey is a time to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ—not just in the joy of His birth, but also in the confidence that He continues the good work He has begun in us. Our second reading begins with verse four but I will conclude with the actual first two verses that begin Paul’s letter to the Philippians:

“Paul and Timothy, slaves of Christ Jesus, to all the holy ones in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, with the overseers and ministers: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”  (Phil 1:1,2.)

To all the aspiring holy ones at Corpus Christi, All Saints on the Hudson, and beyond—to all the faithful ministers and overseers among us:  May God’s grace and peace fill you as we journey together through Advent.  God bless you, our families and all that we serve.

The days are coming, says the LORD, 

when I will fulfill the promise 

 I made to the house of Israel and Judah.

In those days, in that time, 

I will raise up for David a just shoot; 

he shall do what is right and just in the land.

In those days Judah shall be safe 

and Jerusalem shall dwell secure; 

this is what they shall call her: 

“The LORD our justice.”      (Jer 33:14-16)

Our first reading from Jeremiah is particularly poignant as we begin a new liturgical year with the start of Advent.  In a world so fiercely divided, especially in the land we call holy, there is a yearning for all us to recapture the promise of peace and security.  In the prophet’s time, an era over 600 years before the Birth of Christ, the Twelve Tribes of Israel are separated, 10 composed of what would be called the Northern Tribes, or Israel.  The two southern tribes would be associated with Judah and assume that name for the region which included Jerusalem.  All of them are to subsequently experience degrees of captivity, most noticeably by the Babylonians.   

Like today, the world was tragically divided and many felt the fear, pain and struggles of what was happening to them and those they love.  It is normal for those who have been wronged to look for justice.  When we admit to some degree that we are responsible, we look for mercy.  Jeremiah gave hope to us that our God would make things right and that affirms, but challenges us.  God sees us all as family and often as disagreeable and disobeying children.  Our Gospel this weekend continues a theme of final judgement but its harshness is alleviated by the challenging yet comforting words of Paul to the Thessalonians in the second reading, which bless us.  He sounds like the parent who desperately yearns for the family to reconcile despite if individuals or all involved are to blame:

Brothers and sisters:  May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we have for you, so as to strengthen your hearts, to be blameless in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his holy ones.  Amen.   (1 Thes 3:12-13)

The fact of the matter is that few of us are truly blameless in light of the problems of our world and those we may personally face.  We might feel at times overwhelmed by this responsibility.  That is why the love of God is so encouraging, reminding us that we are not alone and we also share in the bright promise of a new day.  The Advent season is a time for hoping and trust but it also a time of preparation, knowing that things will get better, especially if we renew our hearts.  God is yearning to strengthen us internally while at the same time softening our sometimes hardened exteriors.

When we gather together at our Eucharistic celebrations, the priest ‘interrupts’ our communal “Our Father which begins with the words, “Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil…” with words that I believe capture the essence of what we strive for in our Advent experience:  “…Graciously grant peace in our days, that, by the help of your mercy, we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.” 

Our Savior is coming into our lives once more!!!  As I have mentioned before, our disposition must not be one of dread or fear at His Coming but more like a family preparing for the birth of a child.  Sure, there is anxiety but still, there is hopeful anticipation and overwhelming joy.  It is not about passively waiting for an event but a process of becoming, in some instances becoming parents for the first time.  We want to change and better ourselves as we prepare but we must also accept ourselves.  We are called to forgive ourselves as well as others because it is only then that true reconciliation can take place in our personal world.  Once we have made this first step, perhaps we can bring together all the lost tribes of our own

experience in a world no longer captivated by what divides us but unified by the love that brings us together.

Last weekend, as we approached the end of the liturgical year with its vivid images of the End-Time, I spoke about the need to be prepared. How embarrassing then, and more than a bit ironic, that I missed the early bulletin deadline for my blog at Corpus Christi Parish, which is published by an outside company. While I am able to share my message online, I’m grateful for the opportunity to focus on our friends at All Saints on the Hudson, whose later deadline allows me to reflect on an inspiring community event.

Last Saturday, I had the privilege of witnessing The First Annual Christmas Parade to Honor Our Veterans, sponsored by the Mechanicville-Stillwater Chamber of Commerce. The evening brought together floats, music, marching bands, and tributes that not only celebrated veterans and their service to our country but also the community spirit that makes our area so special.

What moved me most was the broad representation of groups and families who participated in or watched the parade, including members of Corpus Christi. All Saints on the Hudson was proudly represented by both the Catholic Daughters of America as well as the Junior Dante Club. Their continuing legacies reminded me of the rich history of outreach from our church and other fraternities, including those who represent Italian heritage. I was so proud to see people of all ages from the parish being among those riding and marching as representatives of civil government, law enforcement, fire fighters and other first responders. Many more were a part of the organizations and associations representing sports, our youth, including scouting, the schools, libraries and countless others. It was a wonderful cross section of people, including many people I have been graced to meet among other Christian denominations and faiths in our area.

I was quite moved that several people invited me to join them along the parade route but I truly wanted to cheer from the sidelines and support all the groups represented. The Christmas theme made me think of how witnessing such a display resonated with my faith. I thought of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem which is also one of the images of Christ the King Sunday that we celebrate this weekend. More directly, I saw all the effort that was put into the planning and execution of such a marvelous community event and I thought of the spirit of servant leadership that Jesus embodies.

This weekend, the parish family is hosting a special Thanksgiving Prayer Service which will include Corpus Christi, our ecumenical brothers and sisters from other area churches and the community at large. (Join us at 2 pm this Sunday, November 24th at St. Paul’s Church, 121 North Main St., Mechanicville.)  It reminds me that as Christian disciples, we walk as an extended family in order to reach out and serve all of God’s people. The ability to do so is one of the greatest rights we are grateful to have in this country. As we pray for a broken world let us never lose hope or the awareness that Jesus is at the center of all that we do, especially in God’s name.

As we celebrate Christ the King Sunday, I am reminded that Christ’s kingship is not about dominance or power but about service and unifying love. Our second reading from Revelation beautifully captures that Jesus is at the center of this and will always be with us from the beginning and through the end. Our second reading from Revelation reveals:  "I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, "the one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty."  (Revelation 1:8)

At the parade, I was struck by how this truth of God as Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End was reflected. I witnessed the start of the parade, marked by warm welcomes, a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem, and the energy of a fresh beginning. As the last of those in the parade passed by, I raced to the end by another route. It is there where the triumph of a successful conclusion was celebrated with rousing commentary and joyful music. It reminded me that God’s presence encompasses all: the thrill of starting new, the journey itself, and the celebration of finishing well.

In this spirit, I can’t help but think of St. Paul’s self-reflection near the end of his life: "I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith."  (2 Timothy 4:7) Our journey as disciples calls us to embrace every stage of life with faith and purpose, much like the way the parade and our Thanksgiving celebration reflects the best of community spirit. May the reign of God continue to heal and inspire us within our communities, our country and our world. God bless you and Happy Thanksgiving!

Jesus said to his disciples:

"In those days after that tribulation

the sun will be darkened,

and the moon will not give its light,

and the stars will be falling from the sky,

and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

"And then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in the clouds'

with great power and glory,

and then he will send out the angels

and gather his elect from the four winds,

from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.  Mark 13:24-27

As we approach the end of our liturgical year, the readings invite us to pause and reflect on our lives. This is a moment to give ourselves an honest accounting of who we are becoming and where we feel we may be headed. For centuries, people have feared that the end-times are near, that Jesus’ return is imminent, and that He will come to judge the living and the dead. This fear can remind us to get our lives in order and turn things around before it is too late. Yet, we need not be paranoid—this call to reflection is not meant to instill fear but to encourage growth.

In any loving relationship, it is good to step back and take stock, especially if there is strain. We should not do this out of anxiousness but to find balance and restore harmony. The same is true in our relationship with Jesus Christ, a partner who is loving and understanding. He is also our companion in times of personal crisis. When we feel our world has grown dark, as described in Mark’s Gospel—when “the sun will be darkened,” “the stars will fall,” and “the heavens will be shaken”—we know what it is like for the familiar and stable parts of life to feel unsettled. Yet, it is precisely in these moments that Jesus comes to our rescue, offering calm and sending His angels to help us. Hope, rooted in faith, should remain close to our hearts because God’s love is there.

Jesus is our rock, our steady foundation when we feel shaken. His love and concern accompany us each step of the way, often through “angels” who minister to us: the liturgical ministers, pastoral care workers, and others who help us steady the course of our turbulent journeys. As we close “Ordinary Time,” let us remember that, even in chaos, God brings order.  Jesus promises us: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Mark 13:31). This assurance reminds us of His enduring love.

At the close of his Last Supper Discourse, on the eve of the bleakest day of his earthly life, Jesus left us with these words to guide us: “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you” (John 15:11-12). When we examine our lives, will we find that we have loved enough? Perhaps rather than living in fear or anxiety, we can take this time to spread God’s love and experience the joy that only He can give. Sometimes, all it takes is to “give a little bit.”

To close, I would like to share a blessing of sorts from a song composed by Roger Hodgson of Supertramp. Reflecting on the bleakness of the late sixties and early seventies, he wrote, “I saw that the world needed love. I believed in love – it was always for love - and I just felt that was the most important thing in life. This song has really taken on a life of its own, and I think it’s even more relevant today than when I wrote it.” Years later, he released it in 1977 on the album, “Even in the Quietest Moments...” and yes, I remember purchasing it through the Columbia Music Album Club!  These words remind us of a simple but profound truth, one that resonates now as much as ever.  Let us imagine Jesus singing to our hearts in the midst of each loud, volatile storm we encounter as well as the quietest moments when we might feel alone.   God bless you!

Give a little bit,

Give a little bit of your love to me.

I'll give a little bit,

I'll give a little bit of my love to you.

There's so much that we need to share,

So send a smile and show you care.

Jesus sat down opposite the treasury

and observed how the crowd put money into the treasury. 

Many rich people put in large sums. 

A poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents.

Calling his disciples to himself, he said to them,

"Amen, I say to you, this poor widow put in more

than all the other contributors to the treasury.

For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth,

but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had,

her whole livelihood."     Mark  12:41-44

In this Sunday’s Gospel, we see Jesus observing people putting gifts into the temple treasury. His attention turns to a poor widow who offers her two small coins which is all she has to live on. Unlike those who gave more out of their excess wealth, her sacrifice is far more substantial.  This familiar story often calls us to reflect on generosity, not measured by the amount given but in terms of how motivated one is to give unselfishly from the heart.  This year, however, I find myself seeing the story differently. As I sit here feeling tired, with back-to-back funerals, three more before me, and the emotional weight of All Saints and All Souls lingering, I can sense the deeper sacrifices that small acts can hold, especially when we're feeling depleted. 

I imagine you might be able to relate to those times when we do not feel we are at our best and perhaps our ability to give of ourselves feels inadequate.  Perhaps when we give whatever little we are able to, we are actually giving far more than we could ever imagine.  The widow wasn’t trying to impress people with her generosity; she simply gave the most she could at that moment in time.  There is something very blessed when we witness the acts of kindness and generosity from people who are feeling overwhelmed or overtired.  Many of the people who impress me the most are the parents who do not give up or the patient that continues to aspire to better health.  Often they are thinking less of themselves and more for others, giving all they can at that moment in time.

When we feel like we have little left to give, what we do share is all the more meaningful.   The widow wasn’t concerned with impressing anyone; she simply gave what she had. We are reminded that it is in the smallest acts or gestures, that we can provide more healing and grace than we can ever imagine.  Remember those times when words escaped you but a simple embrace or loving, perhaps awkward, smile is all the other needed at that moment. Imagine how God values these moments and inspires us to share them with one another.

With Veterans Day approaching, I also think of those who served our country. Many veterans will tell you that some of the hardest parts of their service were not the grand acts of bravery but the daily, often draining tasks that became part of their routine.  By just showing up, they became our heroes, defending and protecting us, even when the acts themselves seemed to pale in light of what these heroes were prepared to do.   They gave all they had, even when it didn’t feel like much.

Our communities are filled with all sorts of heroes and many of them express their gifts to us in simple, modest ways.   In our own lives, too, when we’re feeling weary or like we don’t have much left to offer, those moments are an invitation to be like the widow. Even when faith, hope, or love feel in short supply, staying present, doing the best we can, and offering what we have from our hearts can become our own quiet yet profound act of giving. Whether we’re journeying with grieving families, teaching our youth, or simply trying to be there for each other, these gestures matter deeply to God and to all of us affected. So, let us trust that God knows that we are offering to do and pray the best we can.  Even if it feels like we are running on empty or have a short supply of energy (and resources!), what we give is still meaningful.

God bless you and thank you…for all that you do, and more importantly, All that You Are!

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,

with all your soul, 

with all your mind,

and with all your strength.

The second is this:

You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

There is no other commandment greater than these."  Mark 12.30,31

As we enter this special weekend, beginning with the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls, the Gospel’s Greatest Commandment echoes a new meaning. Jesus reminds us to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. These words capture the essence of what it means to be a saint. They loved God so deeply that they were willing to make great sacrifices in this life, some even to the point of losing their lives.   Their love continues even now, bringing healing and grace through their intercession. Truly, they are our heavenly neighbors, reaching out to us as we reach out to them.

In honoring All Souls, we remember our departed loved ones who were defined by the love they gave and the love they received from us. We pray for them with the hope that they find everlasting joy and peace. As the prayers of the Church remind us, the ties of love and affection that unite us in this world do not unravel with death.  In fact, our bonds can be ever so stronger as we unite with them in prayer and we hold close their memory.  They continue to reach out to us, with their prayers, and together we pray for one another. 

The Feast of All Souls is also a poignant time to seek our own consolation in the face of grief.  To love someone with all our heart means that all of us are hurt when that heart is broken.  There is a saying that there is no grief without love and few would trade that grief for never having loved.  Our faith reminds us that one day we will be united.  As we move slowly through the suffering of loss, let us never feel alone or lose hope.  May we also hold on to memories as the delicate treasures that embody that love. 

May this time bring you peace and comfort in God’s love and may we all continue to draw strength from less the shared grief but more the shared love that unites us.  Remember, true love never ends.

God bless you.

May I know Thee more clearly,

Love Thee more dearly,

Follow Thee more nearly.

If these words sound familiar, it may not actually be because they echo the heartfelt prayer attributed to 13th-century Saint Richard of Chichester, bishop of Sussex. You might also recognize them from the song Day by Day in the musical Godspell, which began its journey in the 1970s. The song was based on a 1940 Protestant hymn, though we still claim St. Richard as our saint! The lyrics beautifully equate 'knowing more clearly' with 'seeing more clearly':

Day by day,

Dear Lord, of thee three things I pray:

To see thee more clearly,

Love thee more dearly,

Follow thee more nearly,

Day by day.

I often try to highlight just one part of the Gospel in my reflections, but this week's passage (Mark 10:46-52) is challenging because each sentence offers deep insight. I encourage you to read the story of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar who somehow “knows” who Jesus is and cries out for His mercy. Despite the crowd’s attempts to silence him, Jesus hears and calls Bartimaeus, showing him both compassion and the life-changing gift of sight. Once Bartimaeus sees Jesus, he is transformed and follows Him.

This scene unfolds in Jericho, a life-giving oasis in the shadow of the Mount of Temptation, where Jesus fasted for 40 days. The contrast between the lushness of the oasis and the starkness of the surrounding desert mirrors the transformation from blindness to sight, darkness to light. Bartimaeus’ cry for pity is met with far more than he expected, as Jesus not only restores his sight but gives him a new purpose. He becomes visible to the crowd in a way that he hadn’t been before, and Jesus sees not just his need, but his faith.

Bartimaeus’ story reminds us that we are all called to have the courage to cry out to Jesus and rise from what holds us down. Often, we don't respond as quickly or as joyfully as Bartimaeus, who cast off his cloak and sprang up to meet Jesus. But when we do respond, we experience the kind of transformation that allows us to see the world, and our faith, with new eyes.

There’s a saying, “What has been seen cannot be unseen,” usually referring to unpleasant images or memories. Yet, in this Gospel, what Bartimaeus sees—the face of Jesus—forever changes him in a way that he will never want to forget. After being told to “go his way,” Bartimaeus instead chooses to follow “The Way”—the path of Jesus.

This journey of Bartimaeus is one we all walk. Recently, my own path has taken sentimental turns. Our ‘Call by Name’ program brings me back to my own vocational calling and the people who encouraged me to follow Jesus with clearer vision. High school reunions have stirred memories, helping me see our youth more clearly—particularly those preparing for Confirmation. We are walking side by side, day by day, as we answer the call to follow Jesus.

As I reflect on last week’s formal installation as pastor of All Saints on the Hudson and my 30th anniversary of ordination, I am reminded of the constant need to fine-tune my own vision. With humility and love, I strive to follow Jesus’ way, day by day, and I am deeply touched by the prayers, cards, and well-wishes from so many of you.

These amazing heartfelt gestures are important, but so, too, is the way we continue to call each other forth to follow Jesus ‘more nearly.’ Together, we help each other on this journey of faith. As we open our hearts to Christ, may we also learn to see not just Him but the best in one another. A ‘clearer’ vision dispels our doubts and insecurities. Let us love one another ‘more dearly’ and inspire each other to follow Jesus with the courage and faith of Bartimaeus, knowing that He responds to our deepest needs with compassion and grace beyond measure.

God bless you!

Jesus summoned the twelve and said to them,

"You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles

lord it over them,

and their great ones make their authority over them felt. 

But it shall not be so among you. 

Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant;

whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. 

For the Son of Man did not come to be served

but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."     Mark 10.42-45

For the interest of space, I have included the shorter option of this week’s Gospel and in many ways, it saves the Disciples from our seeing how very human they were.  In the longer version, the siblings James and John are arguing for position, literally, each one of them wants to sit at the right hand of Jesus when he comes into his Kingdom.  Unlike Matthew’s version when their mother is blamed for this positioning, it is obvious that these sibling rivals are testing not only Jesus’ patience but the rest of the Twelve who immediately object.  That is where we pick up, Jesus knows that it is time for all of them to calm down and focus on what is truly at stake.

The Apostles have unselfishly given up their lives for the Mission of our Lord Jesus Christ.  It is only natural that they might seek some recognition for their hard work and sacrifices.  Some might argue that they are looking for fame and glory but we might not be as harsh.  They may just want their time, care and dedication to be noticed and appreciated.  How often have we all felt this way!  Many of us at times feel overlooked or taken for granted.  It may be Jesus’ place to remind us that we are called to be servants but I feel we could all do much better in appreciation of all that is done for us, sometimes front and center, often out of sight on the sidelines.   

This weekend, I will be formally installed as pastor of All Saints on the Hudson, as I was several years ago at Corpus Christi. I am deeply touched by this honor, but I recognize that this moment is not about recognition of the past but a challenge for the future.   The installation is a ceremony which embraces a humble renewal to serve as a sacred trust.   I am called to a deeper commitment to the extended parish families, to help uncover gifts and talents among us and to enrich the mission of Christ.

Looking back at the pastors and administrators who came before me, I am humbled to follow in their footsteps. Their dedication, hard work, and faith, along with generations of women and men, have built a legacy that inspires me and many others. Like James and John in today’s Gospel, we all sometimes seek recognition or position, but Jesus reminds us that true greatness comes from serving, not being served. As a community, let’s continue to walk side by side, striving to love and inspire one another.  Let us not only acknowledge what is and has been done but also celebrate what can be done in the future.

My installation is a reminder that I am here to serve, to walk with you, and to learn from you.  This is equally true of both All Saints on Hudson and Corpus Christi.  We are all part of rich grace-filled histories that inspire us to look toward the future with hope, faith and love. Thank you for letting me be a part of the heritage of these parishes.

May the parish families of All Saints on the Hudson, alongside Corpus Christi, continue the mission of our Lord Jesus by recognizing the gifts and talents which are needed for us to accomplish great things in God’s Name.   Let us pray for the strength and ability to truly serve one another and may our love for each other help us to be true Disciples of Christ.

God bless you and thank you for your loving support.

As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up,

knelt down before him, and asked him,

"Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"   - Mark 10.17

Our Gospel this week begins with what seems like a simple question, but the answer is far more challenging than the young man could have ever imagined. After insisting that he has obeyed the Commandments, he is overwhelmed by the realization that he is expected to give up everything—not just his physical wealth, but even the relationships on which he depends—in order to follow Jesus.  Only then would he be assured of eternal life.

When I was young and contemplating the priesthood, I was filled with many questions and concerns as to what sacrifices I might be asked to make.  What has amazed me is that I have been graced along the way with more blessings than I ever could have imagined.  It still astonishes me how our parishes mirror family relationships – and for me, become my own family.

Next weekend, I am going to be formally installed as the pastor of All Saints on the Hudson.  This is an incredible honor and I am particularly touched that it was truly the staff of the parish that voiced concern that I had delayed the actual ceremony.  There were things I wanted to accomplish first, such as the reinstatement of a Pastoral Council, but things always seemed to get in the way of progress.

What people have convinced me is that this powerful occasion which bonds me ever more spiritually with the people may well be not the end result of mutual achievements but the start of working and praying together for our future.  Of course, there will always be more things that we need to do but first we must begin to realize that we need each other.  Only by being side by side can we truly follow Jesus on our journey.

The first time I was named pastor was in the early 2000’s.  I had already served for years as an Administrator for the northern-most churches of Warren County and was only then achieving this honor after establishing myself as a member of the community.  Over twenty years later, I see this connection as a beautiful way to renew my energies and serve the people of all the communities that make up both parishes, including Corpus Christi. Two decades ago, I used to joke that the difference between being an Administrator and a Pastor was similar to two ways of being engaged; one with a ring, the other without one!

The true challenges of serving multiple parishes increase when a large percentage of those served have undergone a closing or a merger.  Even the best memories become bittersweet and there is an underlying tension that can be either creative or destructive.  I modeled my priestly ministry on those who, by word or example, taught me that the only thing you can do in those situations is to love your people.

I hope that the People of Corpus Christi will join the family of All Saints on the Hudson next weekend for my installation as pastor.  We will be gathering for a ceremony at 3:00 pm on Sunday, October 20th at the Church of St. Paul at 121 North Main Street in Mechanicville.  Refreshments will follow at the parish hall located a block away at 52 William Street.  The celebration will include Scripture and Hymn Selections but not the Liturgy of the Eucharist because we are encouraging people to celebrate at their regularly scheduled Mass times and places.  Please join us Sunday afternoon in prayer even if you are unable to be there in person.

Thank you for joining me on this incredible journey and allowing me to be part of yours as well. As we walk together, side by side, we are reminded that answering the call to follow Jesus can take us to places we may not always expect.  Still, even when the price is higher, the beneficial results are more than we ever could have hoped for or imagined.    

I am truly honored to be the pastor of incredible communities!  Let us continue to pray for one another and work together for not only the common good but for the Good Teacher.  May we continue our studies and more fully understand what it means to love one another.   May our path always be sacred and filled with hope for the future.  God bless you!

I am looking forward to the installation and appreciate all the work that is making the day possible.  May we continue to pray for one another in the years to come.  God bless you!

Brothers and sisters:

He “for a little while” was made “lower than the angels,” 

that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.

For it was fitting that he, for whom and through whom all things exist,

in bringing many children to glory, should make the leader to their salvation perfect through suffering.

He who consecrates and those who are being consecrated all have one origin.

Therefore, he is not ashamed to call them “brothers (and sisters).”  Hebrew 2:9-11

This weekend, we are blessed to welcome Deacon Todd Church, who will be leading our Annual Missions Appeal. Each year, we focus on an impoverished area of the world, extending both material and spiritual support to our brothers and sisters in need. This year, our mission focus is closer to home, within the vast Diocese of Gallup, which spans parts of New Mexico and Arizona. Special attention will be given to the Native American communities that this diocese serves, helping to address both their spiritual and material needs.

Before delving deeper into the missions, let's reflect on this week’s readings. In a somewhat lighthearted manner, I’m pleased that Deacon Church will preach on a Gospel passage that can be challenging to address—one that speaks about marriage and divorce. These topics can stir emotions, especially for those who have experienced the pain of broken relationships or have not found someone with whom to share their life. While the Gospel always challenges us in various ways, it's essential to remember its greater message, which speaks to all, regardless of our life situation.

The Gospel this week, along with the first reading from Genesis, where God says, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a suitable partner for him," lays the foundation for what Jesus would later institute as the Sacrament of Marriage. This sacrament is a profound sign of God's love for humanity. Just as a married couple becomes one, we are called to be one with God. Through all the challenges of life—whether in richness or poverty, sickness or health—the bond with God is one that should never be broken. When love is strong, the sacrifices we make pale when compared to the treasure of God’s grace.

As we celebrate the work of missionaries this weekend, we’re reminded of the ultimate sign of God’s love—His compassion for the impoverished and vulnerable. The Letter to the Hebrews urges us to see Christ’s self-emptying as the path through suffering toward consecration, drawing all God’s children into glory. In supporting missions, we live out this call to unity, seeing the human family as our brothers and sisters—a bond that must not, and cannot, be broken.

Over the past month, we’ve been reflecting on vocations, and this weekend reminds us that vocations express themselves in various ways, including through the Sacrament of Marriage. This call to Oneness is also a call to holiness. Though we may have imperfections, when we unite with God and live out Christ’s mission, we are blessed, and we share those blessings with others. There are many paths to holiness, and one of the most virtuous is responding to the call of the Greatest Commandment—to love God, our neighbor, and ourselves.

This weekend, we have the opportunity to express that love by supporting the vulnerable in the desert regions of New Mexico and Arizona. The Diocese of Gallup was established by Pope Pius XII to minister to the needs of Native American communities. Today, the mission continues to uplift the entire region, helping people live out their faith. By supporting them, we also support our own vocational, baptismal call to love and serve.

God bless you! May the work of missioners around the world unite our hearts and minds in the wonder of God’s love for the entire human family .

For the past several weeks, I’ve been reflecting on my vocation story—how God called me to the incredible privilege of serving as a priest in the Diocese of Albany.  My journey, like many others, reflects the sacred path we all share. Today, I invite you to reflect on your own journey. Where is God calling you? And who around you might be called to serve in a special way?

Over thirty-five years ago, I struggled with fear and uncertainty as I felt God calling me to actively consider the priesthood. Like many, I found excuses to avoid it. Yet, through the years, the gentle encouragement and faith of others in my life helped nurture the courage I didn’t even know I had.  There were even people in my life that had rejected the church but saw me as part of the ministry they once respected.  I kept putting off a decision but always felt pulled in that direction.   At some point, I felt that I had delayed action long enough.  It was time to embark on a quest of self-discovery.  It was also time to embark on a deeper discovery of Jesus and my potential role in carrying out His mission.

I usually include a Scripture reference as a starting point for my blog but this week the Gospel struck me as uncharacteristically harsh while at the same time, as usual, right on point.  Jesus challenges us, seemingly threatens us, with the words that if our hands or feet or eyes are causing us to sin, it is better to remove them.   I believe Jesus was less angry than frustrated with our tendency to always have an excuse for not doing what we know we are called to do. Think of a parent who hears their son or daughter say they did something wrong because a friend made them do it.  What is their likely reaction?  Get rid of the friend, of course!  They may only be half serious, challenging the child to take responsibility.   How our tendency to hold back from answering the call must frustrate Jesus!  I am sure this is also getting on our Mother’s nerves who never hesitated to say “Yes”!

In preparation for the seminary at the time I was still discerning, I went back to school at the College of St. Rose and took a course that studied culture in light of the religions and mythologies that have influenced how we looked at the world.  I was introduced to Joseph Campbell, the author of “The Hero with a Thousand Faces” and a scholar who was just being recognized at the time as the consultant who formed the mythology of Star Wars alongside George Lucas who considered him his mentor.  I was struck by the understanding that every heroic journey begins with a call. It’s natural to resist the call at first. But with the right encouragement, a hero gathers the courage to step forward into the unknown. This is the adventure God invites each of us into—the adventure of becoming a true Christian hero. For some, this journey leads to the priesthood, a life of profound service, sacrifice, and grace.

The Diocese is planning an evening of reflection for those considering the priesthood in a few weeks so this initiative is timelier than ever.  Please consider submitting names of those who might be considered candidates.  I am also inviting all of you to consider where you feel God may be calling you.  This is an opportune time to consider how we might be inspired to call others forward.   We need future leaders, women and men, who will take up this sacred quest of guiding and caring for others.  Please fill out the cards available in the church and pray for each other, for the Church, and for those discerning this journey. Together, we can provide the courage and support we all need to say yes to God's adventure. God bless you.

Beloved:

Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist,

there is disorder and every foul practice.

But the wisdom from above is first of all pure,

then peaceable, gentle, compliant,

full of mercy and good fruits,

without inconstancy or insincerity.

And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace

for those who cultivate peace.  (James 3:16 – 18)

I have chosen the first part of this week’s Second Reading to begin my blog because these words from James’ letter touch my heart as I continue to reflect on my own Vocation in light of initiatives the Diocese of Albany is taking to encourage people to consider ‘the call.’   In my homilies and in my latest blogs, I have related moments in which I felt called but the turning point came when I was 27 years old and feeling a great deal of discontent.

At this crucial time when so many young adults are coming into their own, I felt like I was floundering.  At this time, I was jealous of all my peers that appeared to be succeeding either in the job market or in their personal relationships.  Dear friends were either getting married or considering that next step and I felt, for the first time, truly alone.  I felt I was yearning to meet someone and never would I have thought that the person I most needed to meet was me! 

I had a decent job which allowed me the free time to give of myself through volunteering but I kept feeling like I was called to more.  I found the courage to join a support group for young adults considering vocations and actually thought that I would discover that the priesthood was not for me.  I thought this would put the question in my heart to rest and in the meantime, I would meet like-minded people whose friendship might enrich my life.

In safe environments where I could be myself, I felt my life moving from disorder to order and to healthier practices.  The wisdom of others inspired me but instead of resenting their self-assuredness, I felt more and more comfortable in my own skin.  I felt peace in my life and the permission to explore the possibilities that might be in store.  I truly had sincere and constant encouragement.  Most of all, I realized that I did not have to be perfect or have it all together to explore the next steps in discernment.

Our Gospel today highlights the appearance of selfish ambition among the Apostles who are lobbying to be considered the best among the rest.  Jesus counters that, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” (Mark 9:35). My problem was not that I was not humble but that I felt inadequate and insecure.  My using a child as an example, Jesus will point to the powerlessness of a vulnerable youth as a reminder that we must truly be servants and caregivers of all.  It is not about our ambition, it is not about us at all, it is about the mission of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

As we continue to discern the call to serve, we can often fall into a sense of unworthiness but God calls us in this moment and invites us to grow in God’s time, not necessarily ours.  Indeed, for those of us who are sincerely humble about our gifts and talents, this may be exactly the time.  We are reminded what God asks all of us, “To act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).

Let us spend the coming weeks praying for each other.  Please encourage one another to feel God’s tender love in whatever direction they may feel called.  This is not about us finding our way, it is about God finding us, just where we are.  God bless you.

Father wanted the following after his blog in bold and/or italics. I did both and put it after his “signature.”

This weekend, we will begin collecting names of those who might be interested in pursuing a vocation in the priesthood or religious life.  Please nominate yourself or someone you would consider a candidate for further discernment.  We will be providing cards next week.

Jesus and his disciples set out

for the villages of Caesarea Philippi.

Along the way he asked his disciples,

"Who do people say that I am?"

They said in reply,

"John the Baptist, others Elijah,

still others one of the prophets."

And he asked them,

"But who do you say that I am?"

Peter said to him in reply,

"You are the Christ."  Mark 8.27-29

"Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself,

take up his cross, and follow me.

For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it,

but whoever loses his life for my sake

and that of the gospel will save it."  Mark 8.34b,35

This weekend, we are blessed to hear Peter’s Confession at Caesarea Philippi in our Gospel. Mark’s account of this event differs from the other Gospels, including Matthew’s version, which is proclaimed every year on February 22nd for the Feast of the Chair of Peter. Despite these differences, Mark’s Gospel still powerfully captures Peter’s declaration of belief in Jesus as the Christ, even though Peter does not fully understand the profound implications this will have for him, his companions, and the world.

February 22nd holds personal significance for me as well, as it falls on my grandfather’s birthday—my namesake. I often remember the stories my grandmother shared about their early courtship. She always knew they were meant to be together, long before she understood what that would mean for her future. Before she ever said “yes” to my grandfather, she confided in her best friend, confessing that this railroad man named George would change her life. She had no idea how, but she was ready for the journey.

While we often associate “confession” with revealing sins, its basic meaning is the unveiling of an inner truth or belief. For example, our Creed is a confession of faith. One of the most beautiful yet vulnerable forms of confession is the expression of love. In a spiritual sense, I believe Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ was an act of admiration and awe, a fraternal confession of love and reverence for his Lord.

The musical Les Misérables captures this form of loving confession in the song “A Heart Full of Love.” In it, the characters experience seemingly contradictory yet complementary emotions as they realize they are meant for one another. One feels lost, while the other feels found. One feels as though they are dreaming, while the other feels truly awake for the first time. In the same way, our Gospel teaches us that losing ourselves in our vocations allows us to find ourselves. What may seem like a dream can awaken us to the reality of who we are called to be.

The question Jesus poses to His disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” is just as relevant for us today. Discipleship requires the same courage and faith as entering into a committed relationship. Like a couple discerning marriage, following Jesus involves trust and a willingness to journey together through good times and bad, sickness and health. We, too, must realize that when we follow Jesus, we are never alone. In turn, we are called to invite others into this life-giving relationship.

It’s normal to face uncertainty and doubt along the way. When I first felt called to the priesthood, I felt overwhelmed by a sense of inadequacy. I did not feel holy enough, smart enough, or charismatic enough to be the kind of priest I admired.  With the guidance of those helping me discern, however, I learned that God works through our weaknesses, filling in our gaps and surrounding us with people who complement our gifts. God equips us to serve the Gospel, and it is through our companions on the journey that we find the strength to live out our vocations.

Discerning a vocation is much like entering any relationship. You rely on those around you to affirm what you are beginning to see. You take time to test the waters, moving slowly and thoughtfully. Sometimes you might even consider walking away if things do not unfold as you hoped.  Ultimately, it’s about letting Jesus take the lead, trusting that whatever happens, this relationship will transform you for the better and bear good fruit.

Most importantly, discernment is a time for personal reflection and prayer. I challenge you today to spend a few quiet moments allowing God to speak to your heart. Do not worry about what others may think—just reflect on the questions: “Who do I see that Jesus is, and what does Jesus see in me?” May God bless you, and may He always fill you with a “Heart Full of Love.”

Again Jesus left the district of Tyre and went by way of Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, into the district of the Decapolis. And people brought to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment and begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him off by himself away from the crowd. He put his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue; then he looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to him, “Ephphatha!”— that is, “Be opened!” — And immediately the man’s ears were opened, his speech impediment was removed, and he spoke plainly. He ordered them not to tell anyone. But the more he ordered them not to, the more they proclaimed it. They were exceedingly astonished and they said, “He has done all things well. He makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.” Mk 7:31-37

I am writing my blog for this weekend on Tuesday following the Superintendent’s Day Corpus Christi hosted for the Diocese of Albany, which brought together all the teachers, administration and staff of our Catholic Schools.  It was so impressive to feel the Spirit-filled assembly fill the church with enthusiasm and hope for the upcoming school year.  After the opening prayer, agenda items and motivational talks, a liturgy brought the focus clearly into an understanding that all of us have vocations and, for some, the classroom is where they best answer the call to discipleship.

When discerning our own vocations, it is only natural that there are times when we are stuck and unable to move further.  This period of a forced ‘time out’ has sparked the imagination of so many and might be seen as a ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ in which we are given the opportunity, whether we want to or not, to truly discern where we are, where we are headed and where we might rather be called to go.  This is such an important part of every faith journey that it has been termed the ‘Belly of the Whale Experience’ after Jonah in Scripture who had his own three days of contemplation in the center of a great mammal whose insides were decidedly an unpleasant place to be.

It is perhaps in the midst of our own hardships, or times when we feel closed in, that the desire to become free and liberated transcends our human experience and connects us in the spiritual realm.  When we feel helpless and afflicted we follow the lead of Isaiah in the First Reading and reach out to a God who has the power to save us from whatever entraps us.

Next week when I am free of jetlag, I will share more information about my trip to Greece with several dozen friends and acquaintances from the Troy area.  We journeyed together for nine days in total and after the first two nights and one full day in Athens; we left for Grecian Islands and some time in Turkey.  It was a trip of a lifetime and began with, hopefully, a once in a lifetime experience.

On the morning, we were to set sail; a friend and I became trapped in an elevator for three quarters of an hour.   I have to admit I felt claustrophobic and scared when they seemed to have difficultly remedying the situation.  If it had been just the two of us, I would have felt more comfortable sharing my sense of panic and would have prayed aloud with him until we were free.  As it was, my internal prayer was more intense than it has been in years!

We were not alone, however, and that changed the dynamics initially.  Two young women originally from Trinidad were with us and they immediately took charge of the situation, making the emergency calls necessary to secure our release.  In addition to first utilizing the call button, their contact with family helped us get immediate attention and I was able to follow up with our own friend and leader of the tour.  I thought we were going to be freed immediately but it took more time than I ever could have anticipated, and it was a blessing I couldn’t because that would have filled me with even more fear.  It truly felt like a baptism of fire.

Our Gospel today mirrors the experience of Isaiah’s people and the message Paul conveys. Similarly to the Man Born Blind in Chapter Nine of Luke’s Gospel, Mark introduces us to a similar individual whose life is impeded by his physical limitations.  He is entrapped by his deafness and inability to speak intelligibly.  Jesus frees him after leading him into a ritual: one that includes a graphic description of Jesus placing his fingers into the man’s ears and his spit into the man’s mouth.  The man probably would have fled if he did not feel trapped in his own skin.

Jesus cries out, “Ephphatha!” which means, “Be opened!”   With those words, he is for the first time set free.  When the doors of the elevator were finally opened, I felt what it was like to be set free and how much of a relief came over me that made me so much aware of what was happening to my senses before our rescue.

The fans had stopped so I was aware of the increased heat as my body perspired and my head became congested, probably from trying to hold back tears, making it difficult to breath.  My ears were pinned for any new sound that might have anticipated movement or danger.  My mouth was dry as nerves created a thirst.  My eyes were blurry as I held back tears.  My body ached.  Then in a flash, the maintenance me forced the doors open.  I immediately felt better, forgetting to notice anything that might had still brought discomfort.  The floor of the elevator was several feet higher than the floor we would jump onto but we feared staying more than leaping forward.  In the seated position which itself took some effort, I jumped without even thinking of my recent hip surgery or the fact that without a great deal of pressure from all assisting, the doors would not stay open on their own.

As we all push our individual ‘call’ buttons, we must always be open to assistance in our lives to unlock what our actual call may be.  At the same time, we must be the first responders in a world that feels its own entrapment.  May we continue to journey together, especially as we set sail this month in a new drive to foster vocations.  This takes many people working hard together to keep the doors open for those who might not be able to proceed without our loving support.

God bless you!  Godspeed on your journey!  Whenever possible, use the stairs!

Dearest brothers and sisters:

All good giving and every perfect gift is from above,

coming down from the Father of lights,

with whom there is no alteration or shadow caused by change.

He willed to give us birth by the word of truth

that we may be a kind of first fruits of his creatures.

Humbly welcome the word that has been planted in you

and is able to save your souls.    James 1.17-18

As I write these words in anticipation of Labor Day, I am very much aware that I will soon be resting from my labors, meaning nothing more than that I will be finishing a week-long vacation with cherished friends who have become like family to me during the course of my priesthood.  As I see how my life has been transformed by the labor I have chosen, I am humbled by the blessings in my life and in the small, yet significant ways I acknowledge that the Word to which I respond and proclaim has taken root.

This month we will be talking about Vocations as the Diocese of Albany launched the “Called by Name” initiative after several years.  I welcome the opportunity to speak of my own priesthood and hope you will reflect on the ways you are living out your own vocation.  If the Spirit is moving you into new directions, that, perhaps, may be a gift from above for your benefit and the well-being of so many others you may be called to bless in your own way and in your own time.

Speaking of my own vocation, I felt stirred myself at various times of my life, even at a young age where my parents’ devotion and closeness to our parish priest allowed me not to be intimated but rather to see the pastor as a grandfatherly figure.  Things changed when I was twelve, going on thirteen, when we moved from St. Catherine of Siena Church to Holy Cross Parish in Albany.  I felt myself separating from the past in many ways, including the fact we were not involved in the parish life of our new church.  While my parents often drove to where they felt at home, I would walk to the church, in part because there was a second Vigil offered at 7 pm on Saturday nights.  For the first time, I went to church alone.

The private time I had at church was motivated by the chance to get out of washing dishes or other errands on a Saturday night while also giving me an excuse to sleep later on Sunday.  While this might appear rather selfish, I also felt that this was a unique time for me to, without realizing it, meditate on this stage of my life.  The walk to and fro was leisurely but often my mind was racing.  I listened to the readings and the homilies and found myself drawn into the Eucharist.  For the first time since I was young, perhaps a year or two younger but a lifetime for an early teen, I wanted to attend mass.  I began to reflect on what occurred on the way home.  I even looked forward to that time in which I thought I was alone but indeed I was not. 

I’m going to leave this story for now.  It would be many years for the next chapter of my vocation story.  I’ll share more next week.  In the meantime, begin looking at the times God has entered into your life in a new way and drew you into a deeper relationship.  Your current spiritual connection may not be at its best at the moment but that doesn’t mean you are not being invited to walk with the Lord in order to reconcile and enter into a closer bond.

Our Gospel this week challenges us in the ways in which we might be preoccupied with certain rules and outward appearances while not looking inward enough.  That takes courage, quiet time, and giving ourselves permission to let someone else do the dishes.  Looking back, I should have helped out more at home and spent more quality time with my family but I don’t regret those walks that are a part of my spiritual journey.  

God bless you!  Happy Labor Day Weekend!

Jesus said to the crowds:

"I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." (John 6:58)

As we gather on this fourth Sunday focusing on the Bread of Life Discourse in John's Gospel, we encounter a profound and challenging concept from Jesus. At first, He spoke of spiritual nourishment in terms of 'manna from heaven,' but now he enters into a stronger, unsettling image of us actually consuming His flesh and blood. This imagery is vivid and initially startling.  We must allow this discomfort to push us deeper into the blessed reality before us.   

In the closing months of our National Eucharistic Revival, we are brought into a deeper, more life-changing understanding of the Eucharist. The Eucharist is not merely about spiritual vitamins for personal well-being. It is about being charged with divine energy that has the power to transform our lives and our communities. We are invited to receive the Eucharist with hearts full of gratitude, recognizing that this sacrament empowers us to live authentically as a Eucharistic people—living with love, passion, and commitment.

When we reflect on our own 'flesh and blood,' we think not only of our physical bodies but also of the relationships with our ancestors and loved ones, who have shaped our lives and our heritage. In the Eucharist, Jesus' flesh and blood become truly present, and this sacrament unites us with the Trinity—the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It also extends this divine relationship to each of us, drawing us together into one family, One Body in Christ.

As we go forth from our liturgies, let us remember that we are sent forward to embody this unity. We are charged to love and serve the Lord, living out our shared identity as one in Christ’s flesh and blood. This unity challenges us to act with compassion, to foster community, and to be agents of God’s love in the world.

Let us approach the Eucharist with a renewed sense of awe and responsibility, allowing its grace to penetrate every aspect of our lives and to build bridges of love and unity wherever we go.  This extends beyond our physical church surroundings and out into the community and all our spheres of influence, including those areas of this world affected by our prayer.

This past week’s Festa at All Saints on the Hudson (an Italian Feast in honor of Our Lady of the Assumption) was a prime example of a community coming together as it lives out its faith.  I am so grateful for the active participation of our friends at Corpus Christi and the entire extended community.  We came together as a family and while there were games for all ages, chances to win amazing prizes, great deals at the Thrift Store, shared cheer with friends and neighbors while listening to music and so much going on, much of the focus was on the food.  We came together to share meals as one family.  None of this would have been possible without the elements of unity that came with hard work, faith and dedication.

I will continue to express my gratitude next week.  That is one way I can join you as ‘living eucharistically.’   God bless you and your flesh and blood.It is the spirit that gives life,

while the flesh is of no avail.

The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life.  (John 6:63)

As we conclude the Bread of Life Discourse from the Sixth Chapter of John’s Gospel which has been our focus this month, Jesus makes a distinction between Spirit and Flesh in terms of what is truly nourishment for eternal life. In Paul’s letter, we hear that the temptations of the flesh may distract us from what is important, but we realize Jesus came into this world to share in our humanity, to share our flesh, so we also realize there are moments when we come together spiritually in a very human way.

No matter what traditional or adopted cultures we celebrate, they all share in common marvelous gatherings where bread is broken, metaphorically in the companionship we share and the foods and drinks in which we partake. Even for those of us whose primary family has dwindled, we have an opportunity to join others in the community, most notable as part of our extended parish family. While our most intimate memories might have occurred around a dining table, sometimes we are also blessed to join others on folding tables and chairs in the midst of much activity.

This year’s Annual Festa, the Italian Festival hosted by All Saints on the Hudson in honor of the role the Assumption Church played in bringing together the entire community, hand in hand, with the Italian Fraternal Society and others for over 120 years continued its wonderful tradition. With the Blessed Mother as the focus, we dedicate ourselves once more as her sons and daughters in a way that builds stronger connections, respect and future memories. 

As I reflect how beautiful it was to see so many people come together, I was blessed to see how the parish family of Corpus Christi actively supported the Festa on both Friday and Saturday evenings, coming as groups and inviting others to join them. As a pastor of multiple communities, it always warms my heart to see members appreciate and inspire each other with mutual respect and endearing love.

The event brought Spirit and Life together. I will attempt to thank individuals and groups later but it also was so impressive how people came together as in years (and generations) past, some returning after a break and some joining us for the first time. Special thanks are due to Mary Jacobs and her family for spearheading the event. She marvelously continued the legacy of Jackie Burgoyne and Bea Strong who helped us navigate through several changes, including the difficult years of the pandemic. I am so inspired by the hard work and dedication of many who represent the spirit of service I have been blessed to encounter in all our communities. 

Many at the Festa were representing multiple organizations and concerns, almost all were representing those precious relatives who had been involved in the 121-year history of this groundbreaking event. I thought of them while being drawn by the sounds, the music played as well as the laughter and conversation shared, the children playing games, and the families partaking in so much of the goings-on. I smiled as faithful volunteers of the Thrift Store welcomed old and new customers with professionalism and compassionate care. People supported us by providing and taking chances on the incredible gift baskets and many more took chances in the raffle. In the midst of so much sight and sound, taste and smell were satisfied through the amazing aroma of incredible food that would prove to be delicious.

It is said that comfort food brings all our senses into a memory of times shared in the past. We are satisfied not only in terms of our physical appetites but experience the nourishment of our very souls. This is a case of when these experiences give us life in the deepest way possible, the sense of touch comes in as we feel our hearts and souls being touched by the goodness that transcends what the world can bring.

Whether you were able to partake from food indoors or outdoors, or like many of us both; If you went for the pasta or the pastries first;  If you were looking for your tastes to be satisfied by sauce or gravy;  cannoli filled or dough fried, you had the opportunity to partake of what it means to truly be family.  Sometimes our souls are truly more satisfied than our bodies.

God bless all whose hospitality encouraged us to manga! To Manga! To life! To our Blessed Mother who unites us! Again, God bless you!

Jesus said to the crowds:

"I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." (John 6:58)

As we gather on this fourth Sunday focusing on the Bread of Life Discourse in John's Gospel, we encounter a profound and challenging concept from Jesus. At first, He spoke of spiritual nourishment in terms of 'manna from heaven,' but now he enters into a stronger, unsettling image of us actually consuming His flesh and blood. This imagery is vivid and initially startling.  We must allow this discomfort to push us deeper into the blessed reality before us.   

In the closing months of our National Eucharistic Revival, we are brought into a deeper, more life-changing understanding of the Eucharist. The Eucharist is not merely about spiritual vitamins for personal well-being. It is about being charged with divine energy that has the power to transform our lives and our communities. We are invited to receive the Eucharist with hearts full of gratitude, recognizing that this sacrament empowers us to live authentically as a Eucharistic people—living with love, passion, and commitment.

When we reflect on our own 'flesh and blood,' we think not only of our physical bodies but also of the relationships with our ancestors and loved ones, who have shaped our lives and our heritage. In the Eucharist, Jesus' flesh and blood become truly present, and this sacrament unites us with the Trinity—the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It also extends this divine relationship to each of us, drawing us together into one family, One Body in Christ.

As we go forth from our liturgies, let us remember that we are sent forward to embody this unity. We are charged to love and serve the Lord, living out our shared identity as one in Christ’s flesh and blood. This unity challenges us to act with compassion, to foster community, and to be agents of God’s love in the world.

Let us approach the Eucharist with a renewed sense of awe and responsibility, allowing its grace to penetrate every aspect of our lives and to build bridges of love and unity wherever we go.  This extends beyond our physical church surroundings and out into the community and all our spheres of influence, including those areas of this world affected by our prayer.

This past week’s Festa at All Saints on the Hudson (an Italian Feast in honor of Our Lady of the Assumption) was a prime example of a community coming together as it lives out its faith.  I am so grateful for the active participation of our friends at Corpus Christi and the entire extended community.  We came together as a family and while there were games for all ages, chances to win amazing prizes, great deals at the Thrift Store, shared cheer with friends and neighbors while listening to music and so much going on, much of the focus was on the food.  We came together to share meals as one family.  None of this would have been possible without the elements of unity that came with hard work, faith and dedication.

I will continue to express my gratitude next week.  That is one way I can join you as ‘living eucharistically.’   God bless you and your flesh and blood.

After (Elijah) ate and drank, he lay down again,

but the angel of the LORD came back a second time,

touched him, and ordered,

"Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!"

He got up, ate, and drank;

then strengthened by that food,

he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb.   1 Kings 19.7,8

This week we continue the “Bread of Life” Discourse of the Gospel of John’s Chapter 6 and I have decided to address the First Reading from the First Book of Kings which highlights a significant passage of Elijah’s story.  He is depleted after his mission to dispel devotion to the Pagan God was successful but is now on the run from the infamous Queen Jezebel who was a devout follower of Baal.  These verses follow his desire to give up and he is welcoming the end of his life.  An angel provides the sustenance he needs to recuperate and now the messenger of God returns to replenish him for another journey.  He will ascend the mountain and encounter God at the peak of Mount Horeb.

Mount Horeb, also known as Mount Sinai, was the place where Moses encountered God during the Israelites’ forty years in the desert.  One of the reasons that the Book of Kings is matched to the Gospel this week is because the people are behaving similarly to the crowds who chided Moses and doubted the goodness of God to watch over them.  Their hostility resembles those that mumbled similarly in the desert, doubting as Jesus reveals himself as the Bread of Life.  They were looking for their physical desire for food to be fulfilled without looking onward and upward at their own spiritual needs.  This reminds me of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs which states our physical needs must be met before we can progress into an understanding of our spiritual ones.   Jesus is attempting to raise the people while they are preoccupied with the basest of their needs.

The Eucharist satisfies the hunger and thirst that we need to move forward.  Not unlike the sustenance provided by the angel, this Spiritual Food assists us on the journey and gives us the nourishment we need to encounter God in our lives.  At the same time, this enables us to walk together with others as it strengthens our relationship with one another.  The National Eucharist Revival which has graced our country these last few years attempts for us to rediscover how important the Eucharist is in our lives.

We have lived through some difficult times accentuated by the pandemic and the divisions we often feel deflate us in much the same way Elijah was overwhelmed.  The secret for all of us is to awaken ourselves to a higher reality, a realization that we too are called forth as was the prophet.  We cannot do this alone however without the sustenance that the Sacrament of the Eucharist can provide.

The Eucharist has been defined by the Second Vatican Council as the Source and Summit of our lives.  Let us take these weeks when we look at aspects of the Bread of Life discourse to reflect on what they mean to us.  This week, we are called not to identify with the grumbling crowds of Exodus or in John’s Gospel but in the person of Elijah.  Like so many of us, he is overtired and underwhelmed, tempted to give up on himself and God.  This, however, is not how his story ends and neither does ours!

If you are reading this and have not been to Church in a while or were present but not fully engaged, please listen to the angels in your lives that are attempting to fill you with good things.  Allow the Eucharist to bring health and wellness.  Let Scripture be part of the spiritual therapy that helps us fully digest God’s blessings.   Put yourself in the presence of God!  Let God do what God does. In doing so, we open ourselves for incredible encounters which will transform our lives.  God bless you!  Don’t give up!  Angels are calling!  Our Table is waiting!!!

"News stories are about providing information, and there is nothing more frustrating for the reader than finishing a story with unanswered questions still hanging. Journalism students are taught about the five Ws: who, what, when, where and why. They are a useful tool to check you have covered all the bases, though not all will always apply."      — Peter Cole, "News Writing." The Guardian, Sep. 25, 2008

I came across this quote while feeling a bit frustrated by our Gospel this week.  I remembered from my college days that there were ‘5 W’s and an H’ in every news story and it appeared to me that the crowd was behaving as investigative reporters instead of disciples.  They search out Jesus but are concerned that he somehow had slipped through their fingers, unnoticed.  The question, “Rabbi, when did you get here?" probably is based on their truer concern, ‘when did you leave and how did we miss you?’

The crowd is missing the point and is asking the wrong question.  The ‘When?’ does not apply!!!!  Blatantly, Jesus doesn’t even answer the question which is initially perplexing but it is also quite understandable.      The beginning of our Gospel this week is from the Gospel of John, specifically John 6:22-25. In this context, Jesus had just performed the miracle of feeding the five thousand, walked on water and joined his disciples who were crossing the Sea of Galilee.  Even for Jesus’ standards, it’s been a busy day.

Jesus knows that their questioning is based on something much deeper than trying to figure out how things aligned in time.  In John 6:26, he says, "Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill." Jesus literally has become a meal ticket and they are seeking him to satisfy their physical hunger and perhaps witness for their amusement some performance of magic.  They have missed the point of the actual miracle.

The gift of food Jesus had provided the multitude was far more than for their physical wellbeing; it was for their spiritual health.  The connection our Gospel provides with the Manna from Heaven given to the Israelites in the desert strongly connects what it means to be cared for by a loving God.  Like the best gifts we have received, the strongest factor of what is cherished is most often based on who gave us the gift, even more so than the actual object.

The object of God’s affection is us.  We are provided with all we need to satisfy our spiritual needs. We are called not to reciprocate a particular gift but instead respond with lives lived in gratitude and thanks.

Sometimes the greatest gifts are not things but encounters - time and experiences shared with someone - such as going out to dinner or a trip to an amusement park together.  Again, these gifts live on in our consciousness even if the physical remnant of the day is nothing more than a program or receipt.   God’s greatest gifts for us invite us into that kind of active relationship with our Triune God.  The Sacraments invite us into such a spiritual encounter which can transform our very lives.  How could we not respond with loving gratitude?   

The initial quote with which I began mentioned the ‘5 W’s’ but left out the most perplexing question, ‘How?’  Unfortunately, we can think of multiple ways of how we do not respond as we are called.  Perhaps we are meeting Jesus with the wrong questions and need to listen a little more intently, with open hearts and open minds.  Perhaps then some of the questions we have yet to put into words will be answered.

May God respond to our deepest needs this week.  If all our questions are not answered, may we have the courage and patience to keep on asking. Even if we don’t fully succeed, the God of all gifts, gifts us with other tries.  God bless you.  

The apostles gathered together with Jesus

and reported all they had done and taught.

He said to them,

“Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.”

People were coming and going in great numbers,

and they had no opportunity even to eat.

So they went off in the boat by themselves to a deserted place.

People saw them leaving and many came to know about it.

They hastened there on foot from all the towns

and arrived at the place before them.

When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd,

his heart was moved with pity for them,

for they were like sheep without a shepherd;

and he began to teach them many things.                       

Mark 6:30-34

Today’s Gospel has references to teaching as it both begins and ends.  This reminds me of the role of teachers in our lives and it is particularly poignant that many who teach our young are spending some time this summer by themselves, in deserted places and resting a while.  Let them truly “Rest from their labors, for their good works go with them!”

The Apostles greet Jesus as the student teachers they are with all the news of their experiences.  He realizes how exhausted they are but also sees how excited they must be.  I can imagine Jesus had a sense of pride for what they had learned from them but was not finished teaching them more.

Maya Angelo has a wonderful quote attributed to her “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  Jesus feels for the crowd who invade the desert place for he sees them as ‘sheep without a shepherd.’  It is interesting that this translation says he pities them because we imagine that the compassion Jesus feels is so much more.   A better word might be compassion, but in this singular place, perhaps he does not relate to their feeling like they do not have a shepherd, because he is One with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  He is the Good Shepherd.  He has pity for those people who did not realize that oneness, yet so thirst for the sensitivity and care he brings them.  They too, are not finished learning.

The Gospel concludes this week that he begins to teach them many things.  Perhaps what he actually taught does not matter.  His loving presence and attention to their searching and pondering satisfies by how he makes them feel, safe and secure in the Shepherd’s abiding presence.  As St. Francis so famously said, 'Preach the gospel at all times. And if necessary, use words.'  His preaching lovingly conveyed the Good News, regardless of the words he shared.

Think of those times when you remember being taught a skill or someone inspired you with a great idea.  I think of those times my parents, my grandparents and so many others taught me something and while I will never forget what they encourage me to do, I remember most how they made me feel.   I remember how motivated they were not to instruct as much as to demonstrate their love.

In the Shepherd’s name, may our communities teach by word and example.  May we also be open-minded and openhearted enough to realize we do not necessarily know all the answers.  We can wrestle with the questions but ultimately feel the peace of a love beyond any human understanding. 

Please tell a teacher or a catechist how you felt in response to their loving compassion, less alone and excited about the possibilities they have inspired in you.  God bless you and God bless all who do the work of the Good Teacher, the Shepherd!

Jesus summoned the Twelve

and began to send them out two by two

and gave them authority over unclean spirits. 

He instructed them to take nothing for the journey

but a walking stick—

no food, no sack, no money in their belts. They were, however, to wear sandals

but not a second tunic. 

He said to them,

“Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave. 

Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you,

leave there and shake the dust off your feet

in testimony against them.” 

So they went off and preached repentance. 

The Twelve drove out many demons,

and they anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.  Mark 6-7-13

As we enter into the Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time, it is a wonderful reminder that our Gospels are shared in an intentional, chronological order.  Last week in the beginning of this same chapter, we saw the rejection of Jesus in his native place and now, while still in the surrounding area, he sends out ‘The Twelve’ on their first mission alone and yet not all alone; they are sent two-by-two.

At one of the lowest points of his early ministry, why would Jesus choose this time to commission the others?  Perhaps it was to reinforce in them that the mission they shared did not rely on the acceptance of the people and they should be prepared.  In fact, the Gospel goes on to tell them to brush the dust off from places that will reject them.  They are not to let difficult memories in one place weigh down the lightness of heart with which they are to walk.  As they are called to take little or nothing on their journey, I imagine that psychologically and spiritually, there was a great deal of baggage they were asked to leave behind as well.  They will be called not to ‘rely on the kindness of strangers’ but the ‘generosity of new friends.’

In my early formation and ministry, I was drawn to the notion that Jesus sent the disciples two-by-two and this seemed to affirm the need for companionship on my personal journey.  As I have grown, I also see this is less about those ministering and more for the sake of those to whom we attempt to minister.  Not one person can fulfill the needs or spark the religious imagination of those we encounter.  To walk side by side with another reminds us that we often need to work in a sense of common purpose, each sharing unique and particular gifts and talents.  Surely, we are buoyed by true companionship but it comes not merely by one partner but a true community of disciples who walk together.  Ultimately, we do not journey alone for we always are accompanied by our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Mark’s Gospel is unique in that it is the first time that the disciples are sent on their own mission.  Their activity is similar to the experience of anyone who has had hands-on training such as interns, apprentices and student teachers.  They are sent out not when they are completely ready but when they are ready to begin to learn and grow.  Many of the people the disciples reach will repent, be healed and be saved, but not all will be cured.  There is rejoicing in their early success and humility in that not all can be accomplished to our liking.

Many of us are using the summer months to recuperate and refresh ourselves.  Let this be a time when we prepare as communities for the next step of our journey.  Church communities and parishes will find that by walking side by side we can reach out to more and more.  There are many people who are yearning to have their hopes, dreams and needs addressed.  This is something none of us can do alone but together we can make progress on the journey that is ultimately in God’s hands.

I am increasingly not in need of actual ‘walking sticks’ whether that be a walker or a cane.  All of us know, however, to keep our balance when the path is rough and to keep moving forward, we need to rely on our faith and the faith of others.  May God remind us that as ‘companions on the journey’ our greatest support comes from each other.

Try to reduce the extra baggage we lay on each other and move forward with the lightness of heart that comes from knowing God’s love and that we are never alone. May God bless and keep you!  

There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years.

She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors

and had spent all that she had.

Yet she was not helped but only grew worse.

She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd

and touched his cloak.

She said, "If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured."

Immediately her flow of blood dried up.

She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction.

Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him,

turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who has touched my clothes?"

But his disciples said to Jesus,

"You see how the crowd is pressing upon you,

and yet you ask, 'Who touched me?'"

And he looked around to see who had done it.

The woman, realizing what had happened to her,

approached in fear and trembling.

She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.

He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has saved you.

Go in peace and be cured of your affliction."    Mark 25-34

The Gospel of the 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time proclaims, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place” (Mark 6.4a).  In keeping with that sentiment, we will be disrespectfully ignoring this reading and returning to last week’s powerful Gospel, telling the story of the Raising of Jairus’ Daughter and the Hemorrhaging Woman.  The latter has been dealing with her affliction for a lifetime, which is the twelve-year lifetime of the young woman in the other story.  As I mentioned last week, this ‘Markan Sandwich’ looks at seemingly unrelated events that show even greater meaning when brought together.   Last week, we focused on the beginning of the passage which is seemingly interrupted by what we will focus on today.  The original story picks up again after these verses and is resolved.

I am composing this blog less than 24 hours from the last one so the connections for me are still fresh.  These two seemingly dissimilar stories are compelling in the fact that they mirror each other and reveal not only the mind of Jesus Christ but the roles of disciples who follow in the Lord’s footsteps, especially as we share spiritual and pastoral care.

If you remember, Jairus is a synagogue official who is used to being treated with the utmost respect and in Jesus’ culture also carried a great deal of political clout.  The fact that Jesus stops along the way and engages with the woman would have been considered scandalous, especially a woman who is not an emergency like the dying girl.  She has been dealing with her affliction for twelve years already.  Notice the woman understands social cues, she just wants to touch his garment, not interrupt him.  

As disciples we are called not only to bring Christ to others but to allow them to touch us.  If we truly embody or ‘put on Christ’ as we are called to at baptism, some people will need to reach out to us as much as we may be called to extend a hand to them.  It is interesting, however, that while she is freed from her affliction, her true healing is incomplete until Jesus takes the time to be with her and to allow her to tell her own story in her own words.  How often do we realize that people who are struggling, especially survivors of grave situations or trauma, also need to be heard and recognized.

In my mind, the woman who is cured is also given the peace that comes from a deeper level.  Perhaps she can forgive the doctors, or perhaps God, or perhaps Life itself for what she has been going through for the last twelve years.  Perhaps she is free from any lingering doubt or anxiety of her personal worth within her community or even to God. She now has faith which has truly saved her.

I have been praying through my recuperation from hip surgery and the healing process has been at the heart of my meditation.  First, I was still in discomfort and pain, but that subsided. However, I began to feel fatigue at the most basic of tasks, even talking on the phone.  In contrast to our experiences, the woman freed of her condition and the young girl rising from her near-death experience, share something in common.  They are both fully healed.  Jesus has restored them physically, emotionally and spiritually.  The girl is immediately given something to eat, no loss of appetite there! And I can’t imagine the celebratory meal the woman will have with friends and family.  The joy she will experience will remind us of the time when we are all healed, celebrating at the heavenly banquet.

Pastoral care is at the heart of what we do as a community.  I imagine just a few generations ago, the image of the priest was that of the country pastor who made frequent house calls and was always available.  If he were not, there would be two or three associates on call in his place.  It was an image like the country doctor whose role and availability was quite similar.

Now I see priests working as a nurse might in an overcrowded, understaffed emergency room.  Still great things can be accomplished in Jesus’ name if we are surrounded by disciples who, in this analogy, represent health care teams and volunteers who contribute to the work and are available to those who need not only to be treated but to be respected and heard.

Both Corpus Christi and All Saints on the Hudson have rededicated themselves to expanding Pastoral Care in our parishes.  You will hear more about these developments, some of which are a return to pastoral services provided before the pandemic.  I will be working with teams who will share in this ministry and allow me to be pastorally present in a more efficient way.  We want to be there in times of need but also for all those who are dealing with chronic issues that can derail us.

We allow the People of God to reach out to our Loving Savior who brings healing and grace to all those in need in many ways.  Important ministries achieve this through the efforts of the Diocesan Appeal and I am so proud of our two parishes for exceeding their goals this year.  At a time when people are discouraged and disillusioned by aspects of our institutional church, this is a reminder that the mission of our Lord Jesus Christ continues and is more important than ever.  Thank you for your loving support and generosity, especially toward your local church.

I am easing back into full-time ministry and I would like to extend my love and gratitude to all those who have been there for me.  Both parishes are blessed with staffs and parish leaders who respond to your needs with compassion and concern.  The mission of the church continues as we walk in the footsteps of the One who is not afraid to seek us out and provide healing peace in the midst of whatever afflictions come our way.  God bless you!

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat

to the other side,

a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea.

One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward.

Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying,

"My daughter is at the point of death.

Please, come lay your hands on her

that she may get well and live."

He went off with him,

and a large crowd followed him and pressed upon him.  Mark 5.21-24

While he was still speaking, people from the synagogue official's house arrived and said,

"Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?"

Disregarding the message that was reported,

Jesus said to the synagogue official,

"Do not be afraid; just have faith."

He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside

except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James.

When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official,

he caught sight of a commotion,

people weeping and wailing loudly.

So he went in and said to them,

"Why this commotion and weeping?

The child is not dead but asleep."

And they ridiculed him.

Then he put them all out.

He took along the child's father and mother

and those who were with him

and entered the room where the child was.

He took the child by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum,"

which means, "Little girl, I say to you, arise!"

The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around.

At that they were utterly astounded.

He gave strict orders that no one should know this

and said that she should be given something to eat.  Mark 5.35-42

No offense to the readings next week, but I plan to completely ignore those passages in my subsequent blog.  It actually will be appropriate because that message will be ‘no prophet is respected in his own place’, so I will not give them any attention!  This is because I am going to be sharing a two-week blog looking at the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time, the shorter option for this week while exploring the implication of the healing of the hemorrhaging women next week which is in the center of the activity in the longer version.  Mark 5.35-42

The Evangelist Mark often presents us with a ‘Markan Sandwich’, a literary technique that begins a story, interrupts it with a seemingly other story and then returns to the original plot.   The sequence is A-B-A.  Imagine ‘A’ as the hearty bread of the sandwich and ‘B’ as the Meat of the Matter, all enhancing a taste that would be different if presented alone.   In the Chapter 5 5:21-24 (A) Jairus pleads with Jesus to save his daughter.   On the way to heal her, the ‘Woman’ who has been suffering twelve years with a hemorrhage interrupts Jesus.   She tries to receive healing by merely touching his garment but he stops to address her concerns and hear her story, bringing her redemption.  5.25-34 (B). By taking his time with her, however, it appears all hope is gone that he might reach the daughter who appears not to survive.  That is then when we return to the first story.  5.35-42 (A)

This Gospel is extremely important to me.   This past Tuesday, June 25the was my 30th Anniversary to the ordained priesthood.  The following day I preached on these readings, which have appeared eleven times since.  Next week I will reflect on the woman’s story that has always reminded me of my mother and everyone who has suffered from chronic illnesses or ongoing afflictions.  I will build on this blog and focus on pastoral care.  This week I will focus on what it means to be Church by concentrating on the ‘bread of the story’.   

Peter, James and John, representing Jesus’ inner circle (adopted family), are selected to be part of the familiar home setting of Jairus’ family.  This honor will return to them at the Transfiguration.   In its own way, this encounter will be as enlightening.  With great respect and intimacy, he invites them into this private moment in which the girl, on the verge of womanhood in her culture, receives Jesus’ loving attention in the presence of her loving parents.  He speaks to her in her own language with words that she would understand.  How often do we address young people in a way that best relates to them?  

Jesus is open to the outsider and continues even as the people have turned on him, thinking he was useless in saving the daughter, perhaps even responsible for it.  He accepts all where they are and invites them forward.  In both the older woman and younger woman’s stories, they return to their ordinary lives, now enriched with a new appreciation of life.  

As I reflect on my priesthood, I want to thank everyone in my current parish families and those who have embraced me on the way.  I have always felt accepted and appreciated and each experience brings me to a deeper understanding of my faith and how blessed I am to live this life.  I also want to thank you all for always being generous with your support and prayers.

I am proud and humbled to be pastor of both All Saints on the Hudson and Corpus Christi.  It may appear I am part of two stories but in fact, they are one, call it the ‘Georgian Sandwich.’  Throughout my priesthood, multiple layers have come together as one scrumptious reality that rival anything Dagwood could have built.  Tremendous women and men of all generations that have touched my life over the generations have marked my life with extra sustenance and spice.  I am truly blessed. 

I will be sharing ‘the rest of the story’ next week.  In the meantime, may God continue to bless all of your families and our parish families.    As far as my recent hip surgery, I am continuing to improve each day and look forward to sharing a meal, our Sacred Meal, with all of you soon.  Again, God bless you!

Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the water

Put your hand in the hand of the man who calmed the sea

Take a look at yourself, and you can look at others differently

Put your hand in the hand of the man from Galilee.   Ocean 1971

When I first glanced at this week’s readings, the 1971 song released by Ocean, immediately came to mind.  Researching the song that still rings in my head so effortlessly, I found that it spent many weeks at Number 2, blocked by Three Dog Night’s “Joy to the World”.  Two of the most popular songs with biblical references were back-to-back, side by side.  It makes you think about what was going on in our consciousness, especially as we recall the societal storms of 1971.  

The song was based on Matthew’s Gospel where Jesus walks toward the disciples during a violent storm which he calms and then invites Peter to come out of the boat.  Peter is able to walk on water but then he loses his grip, so to speak, and is saved by the Lord who stretches out his hand and pulls Peter close as Peter, in turn, places his hand in Jesus’.   (Matt 14,22-31)

The parallel telling of Jesus calming the sea is different in Mark’s Gospel that will be proclaimed this weekend.   (Perhaps I thought of Matthew’s account highlighting Peter because I am living in St. Peter’s Rectory and in a village that fully appreciates still water.)  Today we will share a passage in which Jesus is already in the boat, calmly sleeping, while a violent storm frightens the disciples who call upon him for help.  

A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat,

so that it was already filling up.

Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.

They woke him and said to him,

“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

He woke up,

rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!”

The wind ceased and there was great calm.

Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified?

Do you not yet have faith?”

They were filled with great awe and said to one another,

“Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” Mark4.37-41

It is an important theological revelation that Jesus has control over the natural world but in terms of our experience, it is also important to realize that even when we feel Jesus is asleep and unresponsive to our needs, he is very much present.  Peter is not singled out in Mark, yet he is part of the same community that struggles to find its footing in this world filled with turmoil and uncertain waters.

I can strongly relate to these gospels. One of the last prayers shared with me before my surgery was ‘to place myself in the hands of the doctor.’  I reflect now that it is as if he was Peter but working alongside other disciples, the many health care and pastoral care professionals that were with me, calming my fears and leading me through the storm.  As I went under and into a drug-induced sleep, I felt a calm that came with the faith that was gifted to me by so many people lifting me up in prayer at the time.  My last memory was the chaplain who has been a friend for thirty-five years praying for me on your behalf.  I would later be prayed for just before surgery and while I have no memory of it, I was told that a smile was on my face and my hand was lifted in a thumbs up sign.

God is always present to us.  In our first reading, the Lord “addressed Job out of the storm” with the reminder that ever since his birth, God has led him through the passages of life.  To fully realize this, means that we are called to look at ourselves differently and as the song reminds us, this calls upon us to look at others differently.  St. Paul drives this home in his second letter to the Corinthians, which begins with the argument that the love of Christ should impel us to have the faith that transforms us.  We become a new creation so that we can see God at work in all aspects of our lives.

I was thinking about what I was doing when I first heard the song, Put Your Hand in the Hand, and at first thought that life was simpler.  I was not aware of all the storms facing our country, our society and our world in 1971.  In my own way, however, I remember that I was transitioning from fourth to fifth grade and was becoming increasingly self-conscious. It was an awkward time and I remember feeling very much alone.  I wish I could, 53 years later, reassure that awkward kid and let him know that he was not alone.  I would have looked at myself differently and perhaps I would have seen others differently and appreciated their love and support, especially among my family.

Whatever your age and whatever you are going through, don’t forget to place your hands in the Hand of the Great Physician.  May you feel the presence of God bringing you love, understanding and a hand bringing you out of the storm.  God bless you!  

Jesus said to the crowds:

“This is how it is with the kingdom of God;

it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the land

and would sleep and rise night and day

and through it all the seed would sprout and grow,

he knows not how.

Of its own accord the land yields fruit,

first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.

And when the grain is ripe, he wields the sickle at once,

for the harvest has come.”   Mark 4.26-29

One of the most important revelations given to me by a respected older priest was that if you listen to a homily carefully, you will learn less about Scripture and more about the preacher. We are at times guilty, but perhaps not so shamefully so, of self-revelation when we share our hearts and under the pretense of trying to connect the congregation with the Scripture message, we actually connect the passage with our own situation.

For the next couple of weeks while I recover from my hip surgery, I will most likely be ‘sleeping and rising night and day’ while our parishes continue to grow and prosper under the leadership of amazingly capable women and men. I would like to think as with all the pastors before me that we have had a role in planting the seed of faith. It is actually the congregations that provide the nourishment and cultivation that allows our communities to grow.

I would like to thank all of our parishioners for they have nurtured me over the years. I feel like I am still maturing in my ministry and it is due to a large part by the fact that you help me meet the challenges that we face today. Sometimes it appears that progress is not happening fast enough but just as it takes time for plants to grow, sometimes it is important to have patience and let things take their natural course.

The Gospel continues with the well-known parable comparing the mustard seed to the Kingdom of God. It “is the smallest of all seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants…”  (Mark 4.31b, 32a).  The first reading from Ezekiel blesses us with a similar metaphor of a great cedar tree which brings shade and comfort to many but began as a simple seedling.  All this reminds us that the magnificent work of God is born from simple, vulnerable beginnings.

I am looking forward to a bit of recuperation, rest and relaxation while praying for our parish communities. There are many people behind the scenes that have cultivated new interest in how we can nurture parish leadership and spread our wings (or branches) by reaching out in pastoral care, social concerns, youth and inter-generational based ministries. There are also upcoming projects and special events across our parishes that are bringing me much hope for the future. 

As I approach my 30th anniversary of priestly service on June 25th, I want to thank you all for your prayers, support and well-wishes. I never could have imagined what my life would be like three decades after being first ordained.  I couldn’t be happier or more fulfilled and it is because of all of you. I will be keeping you all in my thoughts and prayers and know in my heart I am in yours. God bless you!

His mother and his brothers arrived.

Standing outside they sent word to him and called him.

A crowd seated around him told him,

"Your mother and your brothers and your sisters

are outside asking for you."

But he said to them in reply,

"Who are my mother and my brothers?"

And looking around at those seated in the circle he said,

"Here are my mother and my brothers.

For whoever does the will of God

is my brother and sister and mother."   Mark 3.31-34

I remember when my mentor in the seminary, a Capuchin professor named Fr. Gary McAuley, was asked how to deliver a homily when the Gospel was like this one.   The Evangelist Mark seems to imply that Jesus was not afraid to offend or disrespect his mother and may have had brothers and sisters.  I will never forget his reply:  “If I were you boys, I’d concentrate on the first reading!”

For this blog, I am going to avoid the first reading which tells of the first time a man (Adam) blamed a woman (Eve) for something he did.  I decided not to take a bite of that apple and instead focus on what was going on in our Gospel this week.   This passage reinforces what it means to be a true community and, if anything, draws us into a greater respect of our Blessed Mother.

As we end the third chapter of Mark, it is remarkable that this is the first mention of Jesus’ mother who is not yet given a name.  The Gospel begins with the preaching of John the Baptist and introduces Jesus as an adult.  If you did not have the background and understanding of the other three canonical Gospels, you would not have been affected by the passage I shared.  The message ultimately reveals Jesus’ understanding of family.  

The culture of Jesus’ time is displayed across the Christian Scripture landscape and an example of brother and sister relationships might be seen in Luke’s portrayal of Mary and Elizabeth.  We have traditionally seen them as sisters and in that culture they were.  That does not mean, however, they shared one or either biological parent.  Biblical scholars tell us they were considered sisters because they were of the same extended family, clan or tribe.  Familiarity among your closest relatives united you all as brothers and sisters despite by how many degrees you were cousins or how many times ‘you were removed’.  A bond was formed that kept you together and you saw each other as one family unit.  I would describe Elizabeth and Mary as true sisters, soul sisters.

Some have suggested that Jesus had brothers and sisters through his earthly foster father, Joseph, who was older than Mary and could have been a widower with children.  The truth is we don’t know and it does not matter.  What we do know is that Jesus was forming a new family of brothers and sisters that were becoming more transcendent than the typical clan or tribe.  All of us have become brothers and sisters when we relate ourselves to Jesus Christ and recognize that we are all children of God.  It should and must affect how we feel about and act toward each other.

When Jesus says whoever does the will of God is…his mother, he obviously can point to our Blessed Mother as the one who fulfilled God’s will in the most majestic, spiritual way possible.  Mary is someone not only to emulate but to embrace because she will show us the way as she has a vested interest in us becoming true brothers and sisters worthy of her son.  

God bless you all and may Mary intercede for us and our brothers and sisters throughout the world!

The eleven disciples went to Galilee,

to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them.

When they all saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted.

Then Jesus approached and said to them,

"All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.

Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations,

baptizing them in the name of the Father,

and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,

teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.

And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age."  Matthew 28.16-20

This weekend we celebrate The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity and are blessed by Matthew’s account of the Great Commissioning.  It occurs as the final verses of his Gospel which is quite unique in comparison to the accounts of Mark, Luke and John.  With one exception which I will later address, this is the only Resurrection Appearance for the Eleven and anyone else who may have followed them.

They had been instructed to go to Galilee by Mary of Magdala and the other Mary who had received a message from an angel guarding the empty tomb.

As I write these words just days after the ordination of our own Deacon Eric Ramirez and five men to the priesthood, I marvel at the timing of the commissioning in our weekend readings as fundamental to all six being given the ability to preach the Good News and baptize others in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  The Triune God whom we celebrate today is made more explicit in these words than anywhere else in our Bible.

These last few weeks have seen a commissioning of sorts for several groups of young disciples who are answering their baptismal call in special ways.  Our recent First Communion and Confirmation celebrations were a direct response to the original great commissioning which has been passed on from generation to generation.  It reminds me that now more than ever all of us are called to live out what God has commanded, ultimately to love God and our neighbor as ourselves.  To truly love means to accept the responsibility of reconciling other’s in God’s name.  That often begins by accepting and forgiving ourselves.

Within months of beginning his pontificate, Pope Francis would begin planning an Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy that would begin on December 8, 2015.  As his first priority, the Pope thought that evangelization, outreach and healing were all connected.  It’s interesting that he felt the divine mystery of Holy Trinity was best revealed in the word “Mercy” itself.  “With our eyes fixed on Jesus and his merciful gaze,” the Pope went on to say, “we experience the love of the Most Holy Trinity. The mission Jesus received from the Father was that of revealing the mystery of divine love in its fullness.”

How comforting our Gospel is if we truly imagine the merciful gaze of Jesus who approaches the Eleven despite their doubt.  Perhaps his first gesture is to comfort and reassure them as he also expresses that the weight of his authority is at one with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  He has the power to empower them to go forth and make disciples, knowing that they will never be left to toil alone.  Jesus will always be with them accompanying them on the sacred quest.  They are called not just to recruit new members; they are sent forth to bring healing and love to a world that often is broken and causing many to feel alone.

I mentioned that there was another appearance of the Risen Lord in Matthew’s Gospel.  As the two Marys are following the instruction of the angel and seeking out the Eleven, Jesus joins them on their journey much like he did in the Emmaus account of John’s Gospel.  It is a tender moment that reassured them and allowed them to proclaim the Risen Lord with not just conviction but also with their hearts full of love.  Let us never forget that Jesus is truly with us at all times and when we forget, he blesses us with people who are there to lovingly and mercifully point us in the right direction.

God bless you!  Happy Most Holy Trinity Sunday and Godspeed as you continue your journeys.

This weekend we are blessed with the Solemn Feast of Pentecost which is celebrated fifty days after Easter Sunday, commemorating the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and marking the origin of our Church.  I will reflect on this next weekend in light of our recent Confirmations, but was encouraged to share as my blog a reflection that I wrote a week ago in the afterglow of our Mother's Day liturgies.

When I celebrated my first Mother’s Day as a priest in May 1995, I remember how amazed I was that the church appeared to be as full as Christmas.  Mothers were joined by teens and young adults (and sometimes by husbands) who often did not appear with them on a regular basis.  I smiled to see so many people that attended our faith formation and felt the excitement in the room as younger moms, often with their children on their first Mother’s Day, absolutely beaming with pride.  Many of the women even wore hats!

As someone who had lost his own mother after a health battle in January 1991, I felt like an observer watching a congregation full of happiness and hope for the future.  I felt out of place as memories stirred in me that yearned to be melancholy but were domesticated by my outward smile.  I told myself that I was ministering to them, not me, women and men of multiple generations that were filled with joy and I must mirror that.  I felt completely selfless yet out of touch and somewhat insincere.

Truth be told, I was grateful to share in their happiness.  My brother would call later, feeling down, and I couldn’t relate to that either because their spirit was infectious.  I was filled with a sense of how wonderful it must be to have a family, especially at the beginning of their life together.

As time went on over three decades, assignments came and went, similar congregations came together on Mother’s Day but something changed.  Families dwindled and often if the mother came alone on a regular basis she would appear alone on this particular Sunday as well.  Sometimes the mothers were missing themselves, allowing themselves to sleep in a bit on their special day or perhaps enjoy a leisurely breakfast and time with children and grandchildren who were more inclined to give them that attention on Mother’s Day.  I didn’t and don’t blame them, I’m just aware that something is changed.

What truly has changed is me as a celebrant.  I am no longer detached but fully engaged with the powerful dynamics of a liturgy on Mother’s Day.  I thought decades earlier that I was alone in my grief but now I am fully conscious of the melancholy that sometimes enters into the sacred space.  My responsibility is to acknowledge it, embrace those feelings even, but send them on their way, hopefully renewed by the Word of God and the Sacrament of the Eucharist.  For those who have suffered loss, Mother’s Day is bittersweet but it also can be poignantly beautiful, especially when we keep our loved ones in our hearts and in our prayers.

When I look about the congregation, I see the families who have lost a mother or dear one.  I find myself focused on the women of the assembly, rather than the men, even though I know all of us are affected in our own way.  I see the women my age who have lost a mother recently or perhaps well into the past.  I see aging women reminiscing of how things were and how they wish life would still become.  I see the empty spaces in pews  that will not be sat in by any of the ‘regulars’ because they know that is ‘their seat’ and they wouldn’t want an intruder, even if they passed on years ago.  I see how sensitive this day is for stepmothers and the awkwardness of those wished “Happy Mother’s Day!” even when they have no children.  I see mothers of every generation who have lost children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren and feel the weight of their child’s absence.  I see the quiet strength of a mother who miscarried and perhaps grieving in private.  I see mothers who have made mistakes or difficult, painful decisions and now are separated from those they love.  I see the pain of mothers and children that are estranged from each other.  I see those who fear for the health and the welfare of themselves and their children.  I see women angry that the church isn’t preaching against things that they feel bring their children harm and I see women angry that the church is not more compassionate and embracing toward them.

As I see the complicated, entangled lives that come together for each of our celebrations, I also see the mothers beaming with pride and the children sharing in that warmth.  In the sea of people trying to make sense of a complicated world, I see the simplicity and innocence of a toddler not yet able to walk attempting to scurry down the aisle from his parents sitting in the vestibule.  They delight in the older sister, a young child who herself was an infant not long ago, race to stop her brother and bring them back into the arms of a waiting dad, or next time, a waiting mother.  As I see this repeated, joy fills my heart and I feel full of happiness and hope for the future.

Not so much has changed these last thirty years, except for me and what I see.  I also don’t see so many hats. 

Brothers and sisters:

May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory,

give you a Spirit of wisdom and revelation

resulting in knowledge of him.

May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened,

that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call…

Ephesians 1.17-18a

This weekend, I am actually citing the beginning of Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians which was one of the choices proclaimed at our Ascension Thursday liturgy a couple of days ago.  Not to confuse things but some dioceses have moved this feast to this Sunday while the dioceses of New York State have chosen to keep the original placement as the fortieth day after Easter, ten days before Pentecost.

The passage I chose strikes me as the sentiment many of us are thinking in light of our recent First Communions and upcoming Confirmation celebrations.   How we yearn for God’s blessing upon our young people reassuring them with wisdom and understanding that God loves them wholeheartedly.  We never want them to forget what it means to be embraced so that they will never lose hope or the desire to live out their own call as brothers and sisters in Christ.

The faith journeys of our children and young adults unite not just those close to them but they draw us closer together as we recall that we are all on a spiritual adventure.  Just as people of all ages renew their baptismal promises at a baptism, these celebrations help us to recall what it meant and felt like when we were first enlightened by the Sacraments and the blessings of a community.

As my heart is filled with gratitude and joy, I am also humbled by the bounty of so much effort and concern which has helped lead our children and young adults to these important milestones of their faith.  Parents and grandparents, godparents, friends and family have all played a part in enlightening their hearts and minds to the grace that is before them.   This is a moment of true love that truly calls us to share the gifts of faith and hope as well.

I join all of us in appreciation of all our faith formation coordinators who have worked side-by-side with catechists and volunteers to teach, guide and inspire our children of all ages.  I am always touched by stories about how their own faith journey has been enhanced as they are inspired by those they teach and mentor.  The Spirit of wisdom and revelation is never a one-way street! I certainly can relate to that fact because I, too, am inspired by people of all ages.

I would like to reflect on what I witnessed at First Communion and anticipate what will similarly come to light at our Confirmations.  As in the past, I thank our entire parish family for supporting our youth and one another.  Our liturgical ministries, in particular, truly allow each celebration to call forth the gifts and talents of our entire community, bringing us together as one.   The wonderful music ministries instill in us a sense of wonder, awe and beauty which is also mirrored in the physical environments that are carefully prepared.   People are immediately greeted with warmth and hospitality and encouraged to feel at home.  The Word of God is proclaimed by Lectors who have rehearsed and prayed over the readings.   Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist share Holy Communion with a sense of joy and reverence with a balance that enhances the encounter of Christ Jesus.  Even when we don’t have a collection, ushers are joined by others to complement our greeters as they watch for any way they can be of assistance.  As it has been said, ‘it takes a village’, it takes all of us to participate in a spirit of unity, service and prayer.

What separates us from the village analogy is not a sense of community but a sense of purpose.  We exist for the glory of God!  As Saint Paul prays, “May the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory”, give us all the gifts of the Spirit to make a difference in this world and unite us in the next.  God bless you!

Jesus said to his disciples:

"As the Father loves me, so I also love you.

Remain in my love.

If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love,

just as I have kept my Father's commandments

and remain in his love.

"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you

and your joy might be complete.

This is my commandment: love one another as I love you.  Jn 15.9-12

I remember a wake service of a dear friend who always made me feel like a part of his family.  Off the cuff, I mentioned how he loved his children, who I also knew well, and that he loved them unconditionally.  They all looked at each other and one of the sons burst in to laughter.  I was forced to repeat myself but with a clarification.   “His unconditional love did happen to come with a few conditions!”

The love the family had for each other was strong and real.  Memories of tough love were amusing them not distressing them because they knew the father’s heart was in the right place.  Still, when he was directing them, especially when they took their turns at the family business, there were times when they did not receive his commandments with anything resembling joy.  How is the love of Jesus different or is it in some ways the same?

At the time of First Reconciliation, I love to engage the children with a pair of questions that usually evokes quick response, “What do your parents make you do that you don’t want to do?”  and “What don’t your parents let you do even though you want to?   I enjoy the various responses which include what you would suspect, “Stop hitting your brother!  “Brush your teeth!”  “Make your bed!”  “Clean your room!  “Wake up and go to school!”, etc., etc., you get the idea.

When I explain all these rules are meant to keep them healthy, safe and strong I always get back to how these ‘commands’ are all made out of love.  I think about today’s Gospel passages, especially when I talk about the reasons parents want their children to get along:  Ultimately, they want them to love each other.  Obviously, for children without siblings, there is an equal desire for them to love friends and family.  Ultimately, we will also be commanded to love our neighbor as our self.

The love that is given to us from the Father through Jesus, in union with the Holy Spirit, is the kind of love that should transform us.  This great love is meant to change how we see the world and our place in it in connection with all our brothers and sisters.   Love challenges us to love without conditions, without counting the cost.  Ultimately Jesus demonstrates the great love of laying down his life for his friends.  Ultimately we are called to rise up with the Risen Lord.  Our lives will be completed when that joy becomes complete.

We are called to perform our lives in such a way that we adhere to God’s commands even when sometimes it feels like we are acting or going through the motions.  I was struck by the term ‘command performance’ which often is used in reference to something someone doesn’t want to do.  For instance, “I have to attend the boss’ workshop because it is a command performance.”  I was thinking however that the original reference wasn’t something sarcastic.  Command Performance is defined by Merriam Webster as: “a special performance of a concert, play, etc., that is done at the request of an important person (such as a king).

Who is more important than our Loving God?  The fact that God is Love and invites us to enter into, and remain in, that relationship reminds us that even if we feel like we are going through the motions, eventually love will overtake us.  We will no longer be performers but transformers.  God bless you!

Jesus said to his disciples:

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower.

If you remain in me and my words remain in you,

ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.

By this is my Father glorified,

that you bear much fruit and become my disciples."   John 15:1,7-8

This week’s quote from Scripture includes both the first and last verses of the Gospel of John.  I have edited the words in-between because while they challenge us to live better lives, they do not directly connect with this week’s blog which is taking a different approach to the vine, in fact I am going to address the grapevine that is sharing concern over my hip and potential surgery in the near future.

First, I would like to thank the many people whose support and nurturing has truly spread along the vine and brought forth renewed disciples, especially those who are approaching the Sacraments.  This weekend, our young people at All Saints on the Hudson are receiving their First Communion and I am so excited to anticipate spending this sacred time with them.  I will include more expressions of gratitude next weekend for both our parishes.

Today, I also want to address the concerns people have had for me and let you know how much your loving support means to me.  I also know that some people are worried that I’m putting off doing what I need to do in order to get better. Although I do not necessarily like talking about myself, there is nothing secret about what has been affecting me, and I want to assure you that your worries are unfounded.

For over a year now I have been receiving care for my hip and arthritis in my knees and toes. You’ll notice that I do not traditionally genuflect but bow at those reverent times in order to keep the moment sacred and not distract others with involuntary expressions.

Through my doctor and a spiritual director who takes a holistic approach, I set about on an exercise and diet program to see if that would help, and it did.  I was able to lose over thirty pounds this past year! (I’ve slipped after Lent and have got to get back on track!)  I was feeling better overall, but I noticed the tension in my hip in the late fall, and I know people started to see it appeared difficult for me to get around at the altar.

There is an adage, “walk it off”, and it holds true for me.  I have to say that it’s difficult when I first stand or take the first couple of steps, especially up or down the stairs and then it gets much better.  Unfortunately, the circumstances at the liturgy make me look more in distress than I am overall.  Still, I knew I had to address this.

I have been concerned that so many people worry that I have been putting off or ignoring my health.  Let me reassure you that this is not the case. I have been seeing my physician and been receiving physical therapy in preparation for surgery which will most likely be scheduled in late May or in June.

I will keep you all posted.  I want to apologize if I ever appeared annoyed at all the questions I’ve been getting as well as the concern some of you express that I’m not taking care of myself. I know these things are said out of love.  I think I have been defensive and embarrassed with all the attention in light of the frailty and serious health concerns of several people close to me.  I know I will be better soon but my heart breaks for others who are not as fortunate. There are those who come to Mass faithfully even when it is very difficult for them or others who are homebound, unable to come due to health issues. I know our hearts go out to all of them.

Thank you again for all your support.  Please know that my parish families are in my thoughts and prayers as well.  I will keep you posted.  Remember, no news is good news; but when I know more, I’ll be sure to get it on the vine.  God bless you!

Beloved:

See what love the Father has bestowed on us

that we may be called the children of God.

Yet so we are.

The reason the world does not know us

is that it did not know him.

Beloved, we are God's children now;

what we shall be has not yet been revealed.

We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him,

for we shall see him as he is.   1st Letter of John 3:1-2

Each 4th Sunday of Easter, we are treated to a different Gospel from the 10th Chapter of the Gospel of John.  Not surprisingly, since we are in the second year of a three-year cycle, this week we are treated to the centerpiece of the chapter.  Our Gospel begins immediately as we left off last year:  “Jesus said:  “I AM the Good Shepherd; the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”  (John 10:11)

On this Good Shepherd Sunday, I want to thank you all for not only allowing me to serve as your shepherd but also for the many ways you, too, tend to the flock.  In our day, the needs of so many are shared by amazing parish leaders who go out of their way, and make personal sacrifices, to serve others.  This act of love is shared while ‘tending’ to so many things that are important to a flock that seems to scatter in different directions.  The sound of your voices brings us all back into the one fold.

I decided to share as my Scripture quote the second reading in its entirety.  While it seems I have ‘scattered’ from the Gospel message, I was struck that this beautiful passage from the Third Chapter of the First Letter of John describes not what the Good Shepherd ‘does’ but what motivates the Beloved.  It speaks to the flock and what draws us into the flock – the very sound of His voice.

April and May are a time of preparation for those approaching First Communion as well as Confirmation.  For most of our families the Sacraments enter into the lives of our loved ones around the ages of eight and sixteen, respectively.  How different are our youth in their middle teens from where they were half a life ago.  One thing has remained and stood the test of time and struggle, joy and pain:  The love of their parents and closest caregivers.  I invite you to read the New Testament passage again and reflect with me what this means, not just for the children and young adults, but all of us.

We are loved by a God we traditionally call Father: Who by bestowing on us divine love has transformed who we are.  As Children of the Light we are call to be beacons of love and compassion, enlightening others by brightening their lives.  Some who live in the shadows don’t know us and sometimes we live in our own shadows that keep us from realizing who we truly are.  What we will become may not be fully realized at the moment, but we do know there will be a time when we are truly at one with the One.  The Good Shepherd gently calls our name.  We respond because in our hearts we know the sound of the Beloved’s voice.  

The Total Eclipse that would have petrified people throughout the centuries now inspires us. Anticipation and contemplation reached communal levels that may not be seen again in our lifetimes.  Those who were prepared and knew what to expect were not frightened.  They knew that while the Sun seemed to disappear, it was still very much present.  With the proper eyewear we were able to experience the event that otherwise could have harmed us.

Our faith provides the extra care we need to see God in our world.  God may not yet seem to be fully revealed. However, with the proper preparation, knowledge, hope and grace, we know what to anticipate.  We will then contemplate upon the warmth that comes when we realize we are children of God.  Let us continually support each other as a flock that follows the way of the Shepherd.

God bless you all and let’s not stray but stay together!  Let your Light Shine!

The two disciples recounted what had taken place on the way,

and how Jesus was made known to them

in the breaking of bread.

While they were still speaking about this,

he stood in their midst and said to them,

"Peace be with you."

But they were startled and terrified

and thought that they were seeing a ghost.

Then he said to them, "Why are you troubled?

And why do questions arise in your hearts?

Look at my hands and my feet, that it is I myself.

Touch me and see, because a ghost does not have flesh and bones

as you can see I have."

And as he said this,

he showed them his hands and his feet.

While they were still incredulous for joy and were amazed,

he asked them, "Have you anything here to eat?"

They gave him a piece of baked fish;

he took it and ate it in front of them.     Luke 24.36-43

Our full Gospel this week begins with the two disciples who met Jesus on the Road to Emmaus recounting how he opened the Scriptures for them and that they recognized him in the Breaking of the Bread.  They have returned to Jerusalem and are acting as true witnesses in the presence of Jesus’ closest followers. Jesus then appears to them all.

Luke’s Gospel is distinctive and differs in part to the similar account in the Gospel of John we proclaimed last week.  Thomas is no longer singled out but the human quality of Jesus’ appearance is highlighted, even to the point of them witnessing Jesus eating a piece of fish.  They not only look at his hands and feet but they are invited to touch his glorious wounds, all to demonstrate that He is indeed not a ghost.  Jesus is fully alive and engaged with them.

We would be startled and terrified if someone we loved came back to us from the dead.  How often have we awoken in the middle of the night with memories of dreams in which we may have encountered someone special.  We are disappointed yet often relieved to know we are alone.  Then, perhaps, the loneliness of the night creeps in and we are just a little sadder.

Most of us would give everything we have to sit at a table and share a meal with a loved one that has passed on from our world.  It is quite remarkable that Jesus calms his troubled and frightened friends by first fully revealing himself and then breaking bread with them as a sign of togetherness and familiar ties.  It is when he has soothed their souls and calmed their fears that he will open their hearts and minds to the meaning of the Scriptures and help them put all of this into perspective.

Again, imagine experiencing a family meal once more with those who have gone before us.  As Jesus connected all things with Moses, representing the law and all the prophets, our stories would be transformed by the perspective of our past matriarchs and patriarchs.  The secret of knowing the true meaning of the Resurrection is that they are still breaking bread with us, perhaps at another table and in an ‘other’ place they are celebrating a heavenly banquet, but they are still present for us.  Let us be as aware of them as they are of us.

As communities we come together at the Eucharist to break the Bread and share in a sacred meal.  First we open up the Scriptures.  This is meant to not only be a personal spiritual encounter but a communal one as well.  We come together as a family and this leads to other meals filled with grace and hospitality, drawing us closer together as a true family.  May we stand beside women and men who will remember us when we are gone. 

My hope and prayer is that our parish families will continue to come together in God’s name, welcoming those who may have come to us from a distance like the disciples from Emmaus. May we be witnesses of God’s love through our hospitality, the sharing of the Word and the partaking of the Sacraments.   God bless you!

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,

was not with them when Jesus came.

So the other disciples said to him, "We have seen the Lord."

But he said to them,

"Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands

and put my finger into the nailmarks

and put my hand into his side, I will not believe."  John 20.24,25     

I am writing my first words after the exhilarating experiences of Holy Week and Easter.  Have no doubt that I will get back to Thomas but I want to begin by expressing my sincere and overwhelming gratitude to so many people who came forth with their gifts and talents for the benefit of our community.  It was an honor to participate in two Ecumenical Celebrations:  Outdoor Stations of the Cross in which we walked through the streets of Mechanicville and the Easter Sunrise Service overlooking the hills of the Saratoga Battlefield.  I truly felt like part of an extended community.

I felt most at home participating at our beautiful churches which underwent transformations for each service by several dedicated groups of women and men who gave so much of their time and attention to every detail.  People spent hours preparing for the celebrations. On behalf of Father Marty and Father Bob, I cannot thank enough the many lay ministers, volunteers, and staff who came forward.  The incredible hard work and loving dedication of so many, particularly in the realm of music ministry, brought beauty to our senses and touched us in mind, body and soul.

I could have highlighted different verses from this week’s readings but I cannot help myself.  I love Thomas!  The disciple referred to as ‘twin’ three times in John actually mirrors not our lack of faith but those times when all of us find ourselves doubting.  It is important to realize, especially on Divine Mercy Sunday, that Jesus warmly offers Thomas peace and allows him to pour over the markings of the crucifixion, just as he had done, incidentally for the other Apostles.  When Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” (John 20.29b), the message is not just for the one but also for the entire twelve, in fact, all of us.

In a commentary focusing on the insights of Pope Francis’ past homilies, the Holy Father stressed that Thomas found himself doubting when he was outside of the community.  He stresses that it illustrates the need for us to come together often, in prayer, worship and service.  Our Lenten and Easter celebrations and activities were certainly occasions when many of our family and friends came together, sharing and reinforcing our faith.

My favorite theory as to why Thomas was called twin, however, is that it was a nickname given him because he bore a striking physical resemblance to Jesus.  This makes the case that Thomas would not recognize him in the flesh interesting on many levels.  Perhaps we do not recognize ourselves in times of doubt.  Most striking to me is the awareness that we truly do not know each other or love others until we share their pain and suffering.

This Lenten season graced me for the opportunity to get to know many of our parishioners on a deeper level.  In some cases, this was because they shared parts of themselves and in others they showed loving support and concern for me.  In addition to my family of origin I share with my twin, I feel blessed to be a part of two families, All Saints on the Hudson and Corpus Christi.  May this Easter season renew us in light of God’s love and mercy for all of us.  Let us share and spread those blessings in the context of our community.  God bless you!  Happy Easter!

Fr. George Fleming

On the first day of the week,

Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning,

while it was still dark,

and saw the stone removed from the tomb.

So she ran and went to Simon Peter

and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and told them,

“They have taken the Lord from the tomb,

and we don’t know where they put him.”

So Peter and the other disciple went out and came to the tomb.

They both ran, but the other disciple ran faster than Peter

and arrived at the tomb first;

he bent down and saw the burial cloths there, but did not go in.

When Simon Peter arrived after him,

he went into the tomb and saw the burial cloths there,

and the cloth that had covered his head,

not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place.

Then the other disciple also went in,

the one who had arrived at the tomb first,

and he saw and believed.

For they did not yet understand the Scripture

that he had to rise from the dead.    John 20.1-9

We hope and pray you have a very Blessed Easter!

Of the different readings we might hear proclaimed at the Easter Vigil or one of our Sunday liturgies, I am sharing one of my favorite scenes in all of Scripture.  Of all the Resurrection stories, this one we will share Easter morning strikes me as completely relatable to our own experiences.  Jesus has yet to make an appearance and there are no Angels announcing, “He Is Risen!”  Three close disciples are grappling with what the Empty Tomb means to them and the ‘fate’ of their beloved Savior.

I smile as I quote ‘fate’ because this has nothing to do with fate and everything to do with faith.  Mary of Magdala is the first to go to the tomb and in John’s account she is alone; alone but not for long.  We should never suspect that Mary rushes to Peter or the beloved disciple for help, per se.  What I mean is she is not helpless nor is she searching for men to save the day.  Indeed, she is reaching out to fellow disciples, common followers of Jesus and people she very well could have considered friends and confidantes.  In fact, this traveling group of missioners probably began to think of themselves as family.

In comparison to Mary walking slowly, perhaps more intently and reflectively to the tomb, Peter and the beloved disciple rush in haste; they run to the tomb.  The latter arrives first but is dumbstruck. Peter, in contrast, moves in as if he was a detective on a case.  He observes the evidence and begins to come to some conclusions but none really come into focus until he consults with his partners.

While we usually associate ‘the beloved disciple’ as John, Scripture scholars and commentators remind us that when the Gospel leaves a figure unnamed, it serves as an invitation to enter into the sacred story, to see ourselves, in fact, as that very person, in this case, indeed as beloved.  How I wish I always felt as strongly loved as my faith tells me I am, and how much I wish you would feel the power of God’s love to bring healing into your life when you need it most.

As I am writing this, the British princess, Kate Middleton, has just announced details of her recent scare and ended poignantly by connecting with women (and men) undergoing similar challenges, reminding them that ‘no one is alone.’  Essential to our faith is that God never leaves us alone, even if at times we feel we can handle things on our own.

Last weekend, the Confirmation Candidates and teens of Corpus Christi led the community in a special Stations of the Cross which they presented as a true witness that as we share Christ’s Passion so does Jesus share our own pain and suffering.  Again, that same love will carry us into the amazement of true healing in the appearance of the Risen Lord.  The Confirmation candidates of All Saints on the Hudson had a retreat at which older teens and young adults shared their own stories about those times that they truly felt like a beloved disciple.

The story of the three disciples searching out Jesus helps us be aware of how our faith revives and deepens when we call upon our own sojourners.  Our communities support and sustain us in our faith.  Whether we reflect and go forth purposefully like Mary or rush into things like Peter and his companion, by going at our own pace eventually we will arrive together.

Thank you for joining us in person, online or in spirit this Easter.  Let us continue to walk together, perhaps occasionally run, as one body, one community, one family of disciples.  We need each other and each other’s gifts and talents.  Most importantly, we need to remind ourselves of the journey we are on, and like Mary, who was the first to see Jesus, recognize him when we hear him call us by name.  

When the great crowd that had come to the feast heard 

that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, 

they took palm branches and went out to meet him, and cried out:

    “Hosanna!

    “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,

        the king of Israel.”      John 12.12-13

We begin Holy Week as we do every year with not one but two Sunday liturgies back-to-back.  The tone and mood of the Palm Sunday commemoration of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is in stark contrast to the account of Jesus’ Passion, which will be the centerpiece of the second liturgy.  Through this journey, we enter, as Jesus did, not into a particular city, but a common human experience.  We can personally imagine the ‘thrill of victory’ and the agony of what appears at first to be defeat.  In fact, both Gospels invite us into a roller coaster of emotions, but we know in our hearts that we will safely land in the renewing splendor of Easter.

ABC Sports touted its tagline decades ago, “the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat” to emotionally involve the viewer when they watched Wide World of Sports.  Our experience of Holy Week is fundamentally different because we are not watching what transpires at a distance and recorded in the past.  We are experiencing, once more, what Jesus did for us as we journey with Him.  We are not an admirer from afar; we are disciples following closely.

In preparation of my blog, I came across Pope Francis’ homily on Palm/Passion from 2021 that was written in the context of the pandemic as well as multiple natural disasters and violent altercations of all kinds.  He proclaimed, “To admire Jesus is not enough”, the Pope declares. “We have to follow in his footsteps, to let ourselves be challenged by him; to pass from admiration to amazement.” This, he says, enables us to really “know that we are not alone: God is at our side in every affliction, in every fear; no evil, no sin will ever have the final word.”  “And with the grace of amazement”, the Pope adds, “we come to realize that in welcoming the dismissed and discarded, in drawing close to those ill-treated by life, we are loving Jesus.”

The beauty of the Passion as well as all the experiences of Holy Week is that as we truly realize that we can fully identify with Jesus, even in the midst of pain.  What is truly amazing is that God can relate even more so with us.  The challenge comes for us to see Jesus in all our brothers and sisters, not just those with whom we relate.  That said, sometimes our feeling of separation is deeply felt by those with whom we once related.  Like the apostles who fell asleep, we have often been let down by people on whom we have counted.  Thankfully, when people let us down, Jesus lifts us up.

People often share with me their disappointments and feelings of betrayal, including at the hands of people representing the church.  As I read the Passion, I am struck by the figure of Peter in Mark’s Gospel, who could not stay awake when Jesus needed him most and eventually would deny Him three times before the cock crowed twice.  I am incredibly moved by the last moment we see him alone, weeping, full of sorrow and regret.  In that moment, I find myself forgiving him and yearning for him not to lose heart.  Jesus will return and reconcile Peter just as he will do for us.  How blessed are we!

May this Holy Week truly be an experience that brings us a sense of God’s compassion, love, and forgiveness.  We are not alone in our journey; may we experience the peace that comes with communal healing and reconciliation.  God bless you and all your loved ones, close by, distant, or close to you in spirit.

Now a man was ill, Lazarus from Bethany, 

the village of Mary and her sister Martha.

Mary was the one who had anointed the Lord with perfumed oil 

and dried his feet with her hair; 

it was her brother Lazarus who was ill.

So the sisters sent word to him saying, 

“Master, the one you love is ill.”

When Jesus heard this he said,

“This illness is not to end in death, 

but is for the glory of God, 

that the Son of God may be glorified through it.

Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus….”  John 11.1-5a

For the third week in a row, we face some difficult choices as to which readings to proclaim, one coming from the Cycle B selections whose year we are currently in, or Cycle A readings which are always an option when we have people coming forward to be fully initiated in the church.  In the cycle B Gospel, ‘some Greeks’ come to Philip with the desire to see Jesus.  Philip, in turn, seeks out Andrew and together they draw others closer and closer to the inner circle where they will encounter Jesus.  This transition reminds us of what we also will encounter in the Raising of Lazarus in the Gospel of Cycle A.

I was struck by how the relationship described in both Gospels bring us closer to Jesus.  In John, Chapter 11, ‘there was a man’ who is given the name Lazarus.  He is then mentioned in terms of his relationships, first his sister Mary and then his sister Martha.  The sisters describe Lazarus as the one Jesus loves. A short time later we find that Jesus loved them all.  We need to recognize ourselves as being worthy to be loved in our relationship to Jesus.  Only then can we fully appreciate how much we all are loved as brothers in sisters, now and forever.

One commentator describes the readings of Cycle B as being in relationship with the past, present and future.  Jeremiah proclaims, “The days are coming.”  Paul begins, “In the days when Christ Jesus was in the flesh,” and the Gospel shares Jesus’ words ‘the hour has come!’ We begin by looking toward the future, then reflecting on the past, and then by recognizing the here and now.  Through it all Jesus remains in relationship with us, whatever direction our perspective may lead.

This weekend, whether or not I celebrate publicly, I will be cherishing memories of St. Patrick’s Days in the past.  My family was proud to be Irish, and I remember my childhood as going to the parade, wearing green and seeing my home fill with friends and neighbors as my mother always hosted a party.  Her enthusiasm was in contrast to that of my grandparents on both sides who were all born in America but held the  bittersweet memories shared by their ancestors who had difficulties in Ireland.  They had fled here for their lives and freedom, and despite leaving close family and friends, they chose not to look back.  My mom’s enthusiasm for her heritage both amused and somewhat irritated them.

Lent is a time for looking back, as well as forward.  Importantly, it is also a wonderful time to be truly present to the present moment.  It is an appropriate time to reflect on our past decisions, knowing in some ways that rather than be distant, God may be closer than ever and perhaps amused at our folly and ourselves.  We are invited to move closer and nurture our relationship with God.  We do so by examining the context of how and where we lead our lives.  Only then can we see where we are going.  If we follow Jesus, we will be led home and our hearts will be filled.

St. Joseph’s Day is also observed this week. It is another opportunity for us to draw closer together.  I have strong past and current memories of Italian friends who observed the day not unlike my relatives celebrated the Irish feast.  St. Joseph is the patron saint of many countries and peoples, as well as all fathers and all workers.  It is a day to unite us as we follow his example.

We see in Scripture and our spiritual reflections St. Joseph truly being one with us.  As someone who led by example, he drew others into relationship with Jesus and Mary, taking the lead in their lives when he was needed. His support, like that of Philip and Andrew, Mary and Martha, is an example of drawing Jesus closer into our lives here in the present as we acknowledge the past and look toward the future.  God bless you.

Jesus said to Nicodemus:

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, 

so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 

so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, 

so that everyone who believes in him might not perish 

but might have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, 

but that the world might be saved through him.   John 4.13-17

In keeping with the Scrutinies being shared at Corpus Christi this weekend, some of our liturgies will be proclaiming the Man Born Blind, Chapter 9 of the Gospel of John.  For those maintaining the Cycle B readings, we will be sharing an encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, a prominent Jewish leader and Pharisee who secretly met with Jesus in the darkness of night.  I have chosen to reflect on this passage for a number of reasons.

I have never heard such a poignantly personal message capturing Nicodemus than from Fr. Charles Onyeneke who blessed me at his Mass of Thanksgiving following his priestly ordination and again when he returned to the United States and celebrated another liturgy at Corpus Christi.  He mentioned that he thought of the two of us, he and I, as people who have had a similar connection to Jesus and Nicodemus.  Although we were not close friends during his formation, we had a series of meaningful conversations at shared events and had formed a bond of mutual respect and admiration.  I believe they had an impact in our personal growth in both stages of our continuing formation.

Since this time, I have identified more with Nicodemus, in part because I am sure Fr. Charles saw himself in the role of Jesus!  Still, I began to see how their mutual respect and admiration mirrored two spiritual seekers who were on different paths that nevertheless met several times during the journey.  If we are open to the notion, many of us have had such encounters, especially with people of faith and perhaps even with others where we have taken the lead.

Lent is a time to experience those sacred moments, maybe even alone in the quietness and darkness of the night.  Whatever cycle of readings you will hear this weekend, they all speak in part to the amazing love of a God who bestows mercy and peace for a people in need of salvation and grace.  The full scope of God’s love is seen in the Light of Christ that breaks through the darkness and restores us with the gift of eternal life.  This does not just affect us in the next life; it reshapes how we see each other in the here and now.

As brothers and sisters who are called to be true Children of the Light, we are called to love as Jesus loves by rising to the occasion and offering a renewed sense of compassion for a broken world.  May our faith break through the darkness and remind people that they are truly valued and appreciated.   The healing power of our love may be just the encouragement someone is looking for, especially if they have lost their way.  When we are at our best, we walk in the footsteps of Jesus.  At the very least, let us keep our hearts and mind open like Nicodemus so that our encounters will truly be blessed.  Let us journey together on the spiritual path that always brings us back home.  God bless you!

As we enter into the Third Week of Lent, we are given different opportunities within our liturgies this weekend.  In solidarity with those entering the church this Easter, some of us will be focusing on Cycle A readings which focus on the Samaritan Woman at the Well while others will share the much-debated Cleansing of the Temple in which Jesus is seemingly seen as he rarely is, angry and frustrated at the money-changers at the Temple.  As I want to concentrate this week on the gifts of healing though the Sacraments of Reconciliation and the Anointing of the Sick, I have chosen to address Jesus’ actions in the temple and what that means for us.

Unlike the Gospel from John which shows Jesus’s compassion and patience with the woman at the well, the overturning of the tables in Mark’s account this weekend reminded me of what I thought when I heard this Gospel as a child, “He’s generally nice but don’t get Him angry!”  It’s a simplistic interpretation of this scene as the commentators would tell us.  There was a role for the money-changers and the animals used for Sabbath meals and temple sacrifices.  The reason why we don’t relate to this is that they are no longer part of our rituals and worship.  This is the point.  Jesus is inaugurating a new era, a new way of living and serving God.

Often when we find ourselves in need of reconciliation, we desire pardoning of our past offenses and a new beginning where we might find peace again in our lives.  If our pain has been self-inflicted, it is natural to harbor feelings of depression or perhaps anger and frustration at ourselves and others.  We desire to wipe the slate clean, not unlike the dramatic cleansing of the temple visited by Jesus.

Lent is a time to return to God, to let down our defenses and have the courage and strength to begin anew.  We are called to recover a sense of compassion and grace that Jesus offers us as he does for the Woman at the Well.  Depression and Anger might be motivating but they are not healthy if we do not move forward as Jesus Christ encourages us.  Our Lord has truly inaugurated a new era and we are sharers in this legacy of love and forgiveness.

Our network of churches including All Saints on the Hudson, Corpus Christi, St. Edward the Confessor and St. Mary’s in Crescent will be hosting two Communal Reconciliation Services with multiple Confessors:  This Monday, March 4th 6:30 pm at Corpus Christi and Tuesday, March 19th at 10:30 am  at St. Mary’s in Crescent.  St. Edward’s is also providing a full day of priests available for the Sacrament on Saturday, March 16th from 9:00 am through 3:30 pm.

The Stations of the Cross are held each Friday during Lent at Corpus Christi; in addition, I will lead the Stations on two Wednesday evenings at our All Saints on the Hudson sites.  They will be held at 6:30 pm at St. Paul the Apostle Church in Mechanicville on March 13th and at St. Peter’s in Stillwater on March 20th.  I will be available for the Sacraments of Reconciliation and/or the Anointing of the Sick from 5:30 pm until the start of the Stations those nights and after they finish until 7:30 pm.  

For those who would like to receive these Sacraments near when they are regularly scheduled I will expand the times I will be available at Corpus Christi, 2:15 pm until 3:45 pm on Saturday afternoons March 9th and 23rd as well as on St. Paul’s in Mechanicville on March 16th, also between 2:15 pm and 3:45 pm.  Feel free to use these times, even if you even feel the desire for a simple blessing.

Pope Francis commented on the cleansing of the Temple and saw it in terms of renewal and reconciliation.  He stressed, “Jesus is not throwing a tantrum!”   Instead, he was prophetically demonstrating a radical change and conversion for which we are all called to enter.  It is a reminder that we are not buyers and sellers at a marketplace, but brothers and sisters called to serve one another.  Reconciliation brings us back into the circle of the human family and draws us closer to our Lord Jesus who is at the center of it all.  God bless you.

Jesus took Peter, James, and John

and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves.

And he was transfigured before them,

and his clothes became dazzling white,

such as no fuller on earth could bleach them.

Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses,

and they were conversing with Jesus.

Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,

"Rabbi, it is good that we are here!

Let us make three tents:

one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."

He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.

Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;

from the cloud came a voice,

"This is my beloved Son. Listen to him."

Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone

but Jesus alone with them.  Mark 9.2-8

When I reflect on this passage, I can only imagine what the conversation between Elijah, Moses and Jesus might have been, but I am certain that Peter’s apparent interruption was not fully appreciated.  Before a response to Peter was given, the heavens break open and a voice mirroring what was said privately at Jesus’ baptism is now revealed to three of the Apostles.  This moment of transfiguration is important because it transformed how the Apostles viewed Jesus and prepared them for further revelations, which will change and transform not only their world, but ours as well.

Jesus is seen vibrantly and brilliantly as the Christ, in the company of Moses, representing the Law, and Elijah representing the prophets.   Moses died before they passed into the Promised Land and Elijah was last seen riding off in a chariot of fire.   As tradition told, Elijah would return to announce the Messiah.  Their stories are actually fulfilled in the presence of our Lord just as the fulfillment of God’s promise to all of us radiates in brilliant light.

Most Christian Churches other than ours celebrate Transfiguration Sunday the weekend before Ash Wednesday as a way of tying the feasts of Epiphany and the Baptism of the Lord to the Lenten season which carries us through the paschal mystery to the manifestation of the Risen Lord.  The Roman Catholic Church celebrates the Transfiguration the second weekend of Lent each year, following the accounts of the Temptation the week before, as a way of giving hope by revealing the true essence of who Jesus is and the role He plays in salvation history.  

In a troubled, sometimes horrific world, we are yearning for the Light of Christ to break through the darkness of our times.  May the Transfiguration inspire us to embrace those sacred moments, large and small, which serve to transform and re-figure our lives and ways of being.  Like Peter, James and John, may we continue to journey united even when the path does not appear clear.  And may we walk as Children of the Light and be beacons of Christ’s love and mercy to a world that craves healing and restoration.  

God bless you all and may you continue to behold the wonder and majesty of God’s amazing grace.  If that seems easier said than done and life is discouraging, don’t forget today’s passage.  When the cloud appears and casts a shadow, it is not bringing gloom but a divine message.  The voice of God reveals who Jesus is and encourages us to listen.  May our ears, minds and hearts always remain open to that call.  God bless you!

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert,

and he remained in the desert for forty days,

tempted by Satan.

He was among wild beasts,

and the angels ministered to him.

After John had been arrested,

Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God:

"This is the time of fulfillment.

The kingdom of God is at hand.

Repent, and believe in the gospel."  Mk 1.12-15

This past week, we began Lent on Ash Wednesday, humbling ourselves as we went forward and received ashes on our forehead.  One of the formulas prayed over us was the words with which we conclude our short Gospel this week, “Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  As Jesus proclaims the time of fulfillment, we also encounter the fruits of his experience in the desert, a time of temptation but also spiritual renewal.

Unlike the other Synoptic Gospels which spend eleven or thirteen verses chronicling in detail the temptations in the desert, Mark affords only two which is actually more than the passing reference of Jesus passing through the desert by John.  Mark has chosen brevity, allowing all of us to ponder what those temptations might be.  I would suggest that this invites us to imagine our own struggles and how Lent is a time of strengthening us.  It is a time of reconciliation and a process leading us not only to peace but anticipation of new life in the Risen Lord.

All of the readings this this week also invite us to face the conflicts and chaos in this world with a renewed hope in the grace of God who journeys with us.  If you ever had a faithful guide who helped you navigate unknown streets in a foreign country, you realize how much you are indebted to the one who makes you feel safe and strong, even in the face of the unfamiliar.

Just over a year ago, many of us from both parishes were privileged to make a pilgrimage in the Holy Land and were close to many of the areas now under siege and in an environment that is quite vulnerable and fragile.  One of my more poignant memories was the view of the Mount of Temptation and realizing for the first time that Jesus, though separated from all in his desert experience, also had within his view, Jericho, an oasis of plush lands and much human activity.  

When we feel apart from others, I wonder how much our lives are affected not only by our sense of isolation, but the fact that we can imagine others at a distance, having fuller lives.  Perhaps Lent is a time to own our own experience and view others without envy but true compassion and understanding.  Perhaps they are dealing with their own struggles while at the same time having similar hopes and dreams.  They are not alone and neither are we.  The desert experience strips us of barriers that keep us from trusting the promise that God will never abandon us.

Paul’s letter references our first reading from Genesis which reveals the Covenant between God and Noah but not just with Noah, "This is the sign that I am giving for all ages to come, of the covenant between me and you and every living creature with you: I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” (Genesis 9.12,13)

As Jesus experienced his oneness with God on the desert mountainside, let us remember that we do not look down on others, but stand in union with everyone, looking outward and upward, beyond the rainbow, to our God who yearns to renew and restore us during our Lenten journey. Let us, in turn, assist in this great endeavor by opening our hearts and minds to the fullness of God’s grace.  May this truly be a time of fulfillment, not just for some, but all.  God bless you.

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said,

“If you wish, you can make me clean.”

Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, 

touched him, and said to him, 

“I do will it. Be made clean.”

The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean.

Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once. 

He said to him, “See that you tell no one anything,

but go, show yourself to the priest 

and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed;

that will be proof for them.”      Mark 1.40-45

Today’s Gospel places us still in the first chapter of Mark and the beginning of Jesus’ ministry which has expanded from Capernaum to all of Galilee.  In my view, our Lord not only heals the person afflicted with his leprosy but affirms him as well.  An outcast who was untouchable is now touched in a profound way by our Savior who has pity on him.  I think a better English translation would be empathy and compassion rather than pity because Jesus is extending himself literally, figuratively and spiritually toward him.  

Like the previous healing of Peter’s mother-in-law, the healing takes place immediately, cleansing the man of all that ails him.  Notice how often the words cleansing or clean are repeated.  How often do we want our troubles, fears, faults and sins washed away?  Ash Wednesday is marked by Ashes on our forehead; Lent will be a time of washing ourselves of our guilt.

The theme of Jesus telling him not to reveal what was done (only to have that instruction ignored, as usual) was modified by the direction to tell someone, but not just anyone.  Jesus instructs him to show himself to the priest which we know was the only one in their society who could officially declare his leprosy was gone and permit him to return to his community.  Our first reading from Leviticus illustrates how this was prescribed to Moses, the official leader of the community, and Aaron the priest.

In some ways Jesus’s actions heal not just the leper in one particular society, but the countless people over the many centuries from Moses’ time until Jesus’s time, people who were isolated from their communities because of fear, distrust, prejudice and scorn.  As Moses and Aaron were directed, this is often for the better good of the greater community.  We certainly saw isolation during the pandemic which was an attempt to keep as many as possible safe.  When taken to the degree where judgement and degradation come into play, we realize why the intervention of our God is so important.

So many people are begging for healing in their lives as well as searching for a way to return home.  There are instances when we all feel isolated from our families or our communities and this can often affect us differently depending on if our isolation was due to our own doing or a traumatic experience that drove us away.   For Catholic Christians, in particular, healing often begins when we are at our most vulnerable and take that first step toward recovery.  We cry out to God that we want to be freed from the pain and suffering.  God hears us, even if it doesn’t appear immediate or complete.  Perhaps it never will in this world. Nevertheless, we continue to pray for one another with the compassion of our Lord who offers hope and healing in a special way.  

This weekend, Bishop Edward Scharfenberger, Father Matthew Duclos, Deacon Gary Riggi and representatives of the Diocesan Hope and Healing Committee will be at Corpus Christi’s Vigil Liturgy to offer us the compassion and respect of the One who continues to reach out to love.  Along with the Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist, Bishop Scharfenberger and the clergy will stretch out their hands and share Holy Communion.  In our hearts, we know the Eucharist, that Jesus prescribed at the Last Supper, is the proof that there is hope and healing for us. God wills it so that we may be transformed and made clean.

God bless you all!

Fr. George Fleming

On leaving the synagogue

Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John.

Simon's mother-in-law lay sick with a fever.

They immediately told him about her.

He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.

Then the fever left her and she waited on them.   Mark 1.29-31

Our Gospel this week begins with the verses shared above and concludes that Jesus would move forward, ‘preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.’  (Mark 1.39b)  I smile to myself remembering my mother’s reaction after Mass to this Scripture passage. She would remark several times during the day, including our Sunday dinner, that it wasn’t fair that “that poor woman wasn’t given a chance to recuperate properly, those men should have been waiting on her!”  This same sentiment was echoed among our family members, at least the women of our group!

The Diocese of Albany has recently announced that Fr. Brian Kelly has been named Vicar for Vocations.   I have been blessed to celebrate several meals with his family over the years, and quickly became a part of the family since the time I was assigned to their parish shortly after my ordination nearly 30 years ago.  I know that as a child growing up, young Brian witnessed many lively family discussions concerning the Church and what had occurred over the weekend, especially when his godfather, Fr Arthur Becker, was joining them.  I can’t help but think that our vocations were influenced primarily by our families, despite never having pressured us to even consider the priesthood.  

Vocations come to mind readily as we are coming to the close of National Catholic Schools Week while also celebrating the World Day for Consecrated Life which is placed on the weekend following the Presentation on February 2nd.  As Christ is seen as the Light of the World, consecrated women and men are true lights of service and prayer.   This is a day to not only pray for more vocations but to pray for those who have already given their lives unselfishly as special disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ.  It is in this special state that religious women and men probably exemplify the virtues of St. Paul that he describes in our second reading. 

All of us are called to live out our vocations and encourage each other on that path. When I was in the seminary, I remembered my mother’s reaction on behalf of the mother-in-law of Peter and wished I could have called her.  She had passed away just weeks before one of my professors, a religious sister, addressed this very issue in Scripture Class. I couldn’t help but smile when she taught about the true meaning of the woman’s immediate service to her guests.  The woman didn’t have to recuperate fully because she was already fully healed!   The mother-In-law was now actively living out her vocation which, at the moment, was to provide hospitality to her guests.  Her ability to do this marked only the second miracle as shared by the Gospel of Mark and the first one which did not involve the dispelling of demons.  Boy, did I want to call my mom, but I didn’t have to; I felt (in fact I knew) she was listening.

The miracle account which begins this week’s Gospel is remarkable because it reflects the activities of many of our homes.  I am not referring to domestic chores, I am highlighting the Domestic Church.  Miracles can happen among family and friends gathered together in prayer and healthy, lively discussion.  They can even foster our vocations!

God bless you and may God bless our families.

Then they came to Capernaum,

and on the sabbath Jesus entered the synagogue and taught.

The people were astonished at his teaching,

for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes.

                                                                          Mark 1.21,22

I was blessed a year ago to visit the Holy Land with Fr. Rick Lesser and the pilgrims representing our parishes as well as his.  Our first day began with a boat trip across the sea of Galilee followed by our first historical site, the archeological remains of Capernaum which would prove to be one of the highlights of the trip.  I’m struck this weekend imagining Jesus entering the temple and performing his first miracles after the introduction I have highlighted.  He commands the unclean spirit to leave the man afflicted and news of this event will spread.

Our own Church, in fact our entire world, struggles with our own demons.  As a people afflicted by faults and failings, sins and divisions, we are all in need of God’s healing presence.  Together we can drive away what hampers us from being the true brothers and sisters we are called to be.  Ultimately, it is our Lord Jesus Christ who calls us to be a people of healing and hope.

On Saturday, February 10th at our regularly scheduled 4 pm Vigil Mass, Corpus Christi will host a special liturgy on behalf of our network of parishes and the Twin Rivers Vicariate composed of Southern Saratoga and Schenectady counties. We will be praying for all those who are suffering, with a special emphasis for survivors of trauma and abuse.  Bishop Edward Scharfenberger will be presiding along with Fr. Matt Duclos and myself as concelebrants. Also present will be representatives from the Diocese of Albany’s “Hope and Healing Committee” who will be available before and after the liturgy to address any concerns and listen to what you may want to share.

The Hope and Healing Committee was created as part of the same initiative that sent Fr. Matt Duclos to the Pontifical Gregorian University to earn his two-year Licentiate degree which focused on the safeguarding and protection of children and vulnerable adults.  Liturgies are held regularly throughout the Diocese as part of the awareness that we need to open our hearts and minds to those who face the effects of abuse. While not shying away from the horror of abuse by clergy and others inside the church, we are also sensitive to how tragically widespread this is in our society. The liturgy reminds us that we cannot remove the crosses that people bear but, in prayer, we can help carry them with compassion and understanding. I am heartened by the response of our Diocese and the efforts of so many people to truly bring hope and healing to a world too often filled with pain.  

I am also struck by the countless ways the Church has to fulfill the mission of our Lord Jesus Christ. This is always most startling when I look at what is going on in our parishes. So many different ministries are engaged in events and activities which reach out to a variety of individuals and families within and outside of our parishes. Many of these activities often take place at the same time. For example, along with the Hope and Healing Vigil Mass on February 10th, the youth of All Saints and their parents are hosting a Valentine’s Day Dinner in their parish center after the All Saints 4:00 pm Vigil Mass. It’s free of charge to all members of All Saints and Corpus Christi. The dinner was organized to promote its Catholic Youth Organization and to give thanks to the community for all their support. Confirmation candidates will be joining them in this endeavor.  New families from both parishes are also invited to learn more about the expanding basketball program at All Saints.  For information about this or the dinner, email allsaintsbasketballny@gmail.com. 

I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart all those who dedicate much of their lives to positively impacting the spiritual, emotional and physical well-being of our youth.  As we continue to pray for one another, let us do what we can not to lose hope and be willing to offer comfort and healing to all those in need. God bless you all.

After John had been arrested,

Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God:

"This is the time of fulfillment.

The kingdom of God is at hand.

Repent, and believe in the gospel."

As he passed by the Sea of Galilee,

he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea;

they were fishermen.

Jesus said to them,

"Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men."

Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.

He walked along a little farther

and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John.

They too were in a boat mending their nets.

Then he called them.

So they left their father Zebedee in the boat

along with the hired men and followed him.    Mark 1.14-20

“Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  If these words remind you of the words you might hear when being blessed with ashes on your forehead, they should.  This is one of the formulas shared on Ash Wednesday along with the reminder that we are called to remember that we are dust and to dust we shall return.  While we are still very much in the beginning of ordinary time, we will revisit the themes of this weekend’s readings in less than a month when we start our observance of Lent.  

Paul’s words to the Corinthians called for a change of heart and challenged people to act as if the end was near, focusing their attention to what truly matters.  This sentiment isn’t as cloaked in self-denial as the short passage suggests.  It ultimately echoes the Tim McGraw song, “Live like you were dying.”  In fact, Jesus’s call to repentance picks up from John the Baptist’s message and connects it to what it means to live in a time of fulfillment.  We are truly called to live lives that we hope one day can allow us to say we, “loved deeper, And I spoke sweeter, And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."

I am blessed to have special people in my life who counsel others to renew their lives by giving up former ways of behaving and developing healthier, more fruitful habits.  They preach by word and example that we should treat ourselves better and change our lifestyles accordingly.  They invite others to follow new ways of thinking, feeling and behaving much as Jesus does when he calls forth the first apostles in this account from Mark’s Gospel.

Sometimes our lives can be as tangled as the nets in today’s Gospel.  James and John were doing their best to mend their nets but that could also be a metaphor for brooding over their injuries.  Jonah is certainly guilty of this as we will see in the verses that follow this week’s first reading.  He will respond negatively to the conversion of the Ninevites because while they have reformed, he cannot let go of his hatred for them, seeing ‘those people’ as an enemy to his own.  For him to move forward, he needs to change his ways and move towards the direction of deeper love and forgiveness.

The Apostles in the gospel this week leave all behind and follow Jesus.  This radical change of the way they lived their lives will also ultimately change how they see themselves in relation to the One that they follow. We are invited to follow Jesus as well and in the process we too are changed for the better. The closing song of the musical Wicked is shared by two adversaries that now have found forgiveness and fulfillment: “Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

I do believe I have been changed for the better!  And because I knew you…Because I knew you:

I have been changed for good.”

Let us follow after Jesus, know him and love him more deeply. In doing so we will surely change for the better.  May our conversion allow us to truly spread the good in a world that is so entangled.   God bless you.