“The Prodigal Son?” You’re Kidding

Christianity rarely gets things wrong but titling this Gospel “The Prodigal Son” is a n outright mistake. That’s like calling “I Love Lucy” a TV show about Ethel. The title ought to be “The Crazy Loving Father,” for he is the glaring and shining star of the story.

Ready for this? Here’s the list.
There is no half for the younger son. Jewish tradition states that the estate completely belongs to the elder son. Yet, Daddy Dearest freely gives away half. Boy-kid squanders (please remember that word) and ends up tending to pigs…anathema to Jewish people. (Jewish folks would have laughed at that reference or walked away appalled.) Kid-boy comes to his senses and prepares a contrite apology to Crazy-Daddy. He finds a mirror and practices it again and again. Walking back home, Loving-Daddy sees him first (an important point to remember in this story.) Silly Kid doesn’t even get a chance to spout out his apology with his Loving Father taking over the conversation. Now. The servants are off with the One-Sandwich-Short-of-A-Picnic-Dad’s credit card to Men’s Warehouse for new duds for the Kid and then Sendiks to buy a Milwaukee-size fattened calf. Senior-Kid hears rumors of this seemingly “Welcoming Home Party” and complains to Off-the-Wall-Dad. Crazy-Daddy attempts to console the eldest, “Everything I have is yours.” (Minus half.) Then, Should-Have-Kept-His-Mouth-Shut Eldest Kid talks about his brother and, and “prostitutes!” Ummmm.

(I move to the Gospel book saying the word “prostitute” three times out loud looking for the word but finally saying the word, “squandered.”)

Please remember the A, B, and C’s from that Lovingly-Dad in this story and then apply it to your life. A: never apologize, B: never blame and C: never complain. Take that home and ponder it. Finally, the unanswerable question from me is, “Where’s the Mother!?”
Culminating this comic but serious story from Jesus is the eternally faith-filled verse, “What was once lost has now been found.”

We gather here each week to remind ourselves of our own conversion or to bring about a new conversion – all lifted heavenward to our Crazy-Loving God. Conversion means not only the basic beliefs but continuing to infuse those Divine beliefs to and through how many life transitions: marriage, first born, new job, divorce, lost job, retirement, the deaths of those we love and our own. In psychology it’s called transitions; from one thing to another. For believers, joyfully, it’s called conversion; from one thing to something and to someONE even deeper.

We do this not only alone, but together. We do this by telling our stories – troubling, sad stories about family, friends, or ourselves, doubtful accounts about children after twelve years of paid-for Catholic education who no longer practice our faith. Stories that prompt laughter about ourselves, especially stories that make fun of ourselves in all our follies and foibles.

Hence, our yearly parish picnic. In the movie “Jerry Macquire,” Tom Cruise renews his marriage to Renee Zellweger by saying, “You complete me.” I love that line. As Catholics, can we say that to as many people that we can think of?

As a family in faith, we need each other. We need each other to listen to and to share our stories. To both hear and share with Christ living within us. This is our earthly inheritance. And, it ain’t only half. Today we do it while eating fattening food. But this family of faith performs this today and every day.

We need each other. It’s called the Eucharist. It beckons us to our home, this home, where God – our crazy, forgiving, One-Sandwich-Short-of-A-Picnic-Dad, and merciful Father .. always sees us first.

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Four Words Says It All!

“For you.” Of me.” Probably the four most
important words proclaimed during Mass. They can
be throwaway words that we’ve too often heard or
they can become the bedrock of the relationship
between Jesus and us.

Forget “WWJD” and having a “friendship” with
Jesus. Cutesy but shallow. The four I’m referring to
solidifies the life of Jesus Christ for us. They show
us the unbreakable bond that we call covenant. A
Godly bond promised us all after the Great Flood.
Insurance companies call the unexplainable an
“Act of God” to get them off the financial hook. We
call those four an “Act of God” because of our
unique union with Christ.

“This is my body, given up for you.” “Do this in
memory of me.” There you have it. Power and
potency promised and delivered every single of our
participating time. It is not a kinda, similar, could
be, perhaps or maybe. It IS. It is the Body and
Blood of Jesus Christ telling us of the end of his
time and the beginning of ours.

The old priestly adage for preparing for Mass is,
“Say it as if it’s your first and say it as if it’s your

Good advice for all of us participating Catholics

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“How Do You Stop the Music From Ending?”

Lord God, “how do you keep the music playing? How do you make it last? How do you keep our song from fading, Too fast?”

We love You Lord, our prayers to You are often repetitive hoping for a different response or quiet words to quiet ourselves…or best yet, our words to You are heartfelt. But You, Lord, provide us with the melody…You give us the sheet music with all the musical lyrics we need to sing…

“If we can try with every day to make it better as it grows With any luck than I suppose,…” The music could never end.

“How do you lose yourself to someone, And never lose your way?” That’s the eternal question asked between our timeless God and the temporary us.

Lord, will I really lose myself if I give myself totally to You? Or, will I uncover who I am by giving myself totally to You? Sing about that for us, will you Lord? Please! What key can You sing it for us, Lord? And, is it a key I’m willing and able to sing along with You?

You know, Lord, I’ve been told on good authority that no one hums a homily leaving Mass.

I know I’m not Abraham, our a Father in Faith, but You gave in to Abraham with his worthy requests, so here’s my simple request…just a thought, Lord. Let’s just throw it on the turntable and see what spins around at 33 1/3.

What if You sing, every day to me, the wonderful melody of my life. Then, get Your Son, Jesus Christ, to chime in singing the third harmony. Your Holy Spirit then has the privilege of hitting that tricky fifth. I’m confident she can gracefully hit it. And since the shower is my only singing concert venue, I’ll hum along not only leaving Mass but every single day of my life.

With any luck, then I suppose, the harmonies of my life could not possibly end.

And, Lord, (as long as we’re talking), How can singing away one happy song suddenly turn discouraging and troubling seeking Your care and concern. And, tell me, Lord, how year after year, How are You so sure that my heart and Your heart will not separate, or worse yet, fall apart?

With any luck, Lord, then I suppose, The music never does end…

If we can try, Lord, with every day to make it better as our faith continues to grow, With any luck than me and You Lord and those we call the Body of Christ, The music will never, ever, and cannot ever end.


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Martha & Mary

During a sickness, illness or compromising health, who prays to God saying, “Keep it coming Lord!” I think your primary doctor would quickly increase your drug dosage.

Yet, St. Paul, subjected to numerous afflictions – all done by him on behalf of his commitment to Christ – says precisely the same thing…”Keep it coming, Lord.” That’s Paul’s message to us today. It’s not the cancer or an ingrown toenail, it’s our commitment to the hope filled message of uniting our lives to both the sufferings and the successes of Jesus Christ.

It’s a biblical package deal. You cannot have one without the other. It’s not a Sunday buffet at your favorite restaurant. “I’d like a heap of successes and a dappling of suffering, please.”

Christ not only taught about life’s package that but showed it through his life. The blueprint of living our lives in both its sufferings and successes is living, truly living, the person of Jesus, the one who last name is not Christ but who now becomes a glorious witness and testament to his life and now commissioned as the Christ for our lives.

We misunderstand the Mary/Martha conflict. Jesus declares that Mary found the better half because she needed it at that time in her life. Without Martha cooking away there’d be no supper for the three of them. Martha’s complaining is purely us when we feel unappreciated because important work, like cooking, centers our attention.

You may not know this but I bet everything that when the dishes are clean and put away, Jesus calls Martha to sit a bit beside him and proceeds to tell her a story that fits her situation. Martha would absorb each word knowing that those words are meant for her and then enjoy a restful sleep waking to the alarm clock and prepare yet another breakfast.

“In sickness and in health” are never words reserved only for marriage. They are the ups and downs words of our lives. And, all of those downs and ups are worthily and humbly lived through, with, and in … and because of the person Jesus Christ.

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Summarizing the Lives of Others

Remembering. It’s a Lenten theme centered around remembering the gracious, divine events that led to our salvation. (Yes, I mean Jesus Christ.)

Remembering during Lent can also be a revealing occasion about how we will be remembered. I mean during our living and after our living. How will you be remembered? More importantly is how you think you will be remembered.

My favorite of all is, “She meant well.” Full of politely unanswered ambiguities that could fill those Swiss cheese holes.

“Hard to get along with until I got to him,” speaks to apparently clashing heads that often have many things in common.

“He did more than I expected,” says more about the speaker than the individual.

“I like her, but she always seems sad,” said the person who never patiently inquires about other parts of her life.

“He’s funny.” One-dimensional for sure, but never became a stand-up comic.

“She’s an inspiration to me,” said lovingly about someone you either know or read about.

“He/she is a true fighter,” humbly shared about anyone fighting anything unwanted in life.

“He lived for golf,” pretty much says it all.

Finally, the best of all relates to my life. “Totally opposite political parties and we’re the best of friends.”

In remembering someone, please remember that our remembering may say more about us than those whom we remember.

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Joy is Her Name

She lives very, very far away, or so it seems. The intriguing part is that I’m not able to visit her. She needs to visit me, and she sometimes does. She will often arrive for the weekend wearing her bright, colorful outfits with floral designs or a simple pattern.

Another intriguing part is that there’s little conversation. Words don’t seem to interest her. She never asks me what I’ve been up to or how I’m feeling. I think she already knows. We both mainly look outside or stroll with no destination in mind.

For me, there’s something elusively available about our relationship. I know it sounds contradictory, but I often feel that way. I realize the distance between us, yet continue to feel her presence when the weekend ends.

I’m reminded of her during work and other encounters. It’s so easy for us all to divide up people and situations, usually divided up according to our whims and wishes. That control stuff of ours really controls us and makes her distance even further. No wonder there are drug store racks full of pills to cover or soften but never eliminate those controls.

Intriguing, for a third time, I don’t think she’s ever been in a drug store—no need for it. I don’t think Walgreens would let her in; bad for business.

I often attempt to figure her out so I can control her, as I do everything and everyone else. Nada. Can’t be done.

I am never so relaxed, appreciative, and kind to myself and others when I think of her or on those special visiting weekends with her.

Oh, silly me. I forgot to tell you her name. It’s Joy. How far away from your home does Joy live?

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Trinity Motel

Think Motel

God owns the place. Jesus Christ is behind the desk answering the phones and registering guests and the Holy Spirit?

The Holy Spirit cleans all the rooms. She has the master key along with her cart full of stuff to replace the stuff that we either use or the stuff we stuff away in our suitcases. Is their soap really better than the soap in your home? Or is it just the feeling that you can get away with it?

The Holy Spirit attempts to clear the leaves from the pool so your kids can swim in its non-heated pool. The Holy Spirit makes your bed, switches towels, checks your minibar supply, and somehow scents your room with a universal scent that makes every motel room smell the same.

Today we celebrate the third person of the Trinity, the last person of the Trinity. I wouldn’t say I like that phrase. There is no “third.” Each Person of our Triune God has specific responsibilities to inform, reform, celebrate and better our lives. This weekend honors the motel’s housekeeper.

You may attempt to put that “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, but please rest assured that this motel is here to serve you…sometimes, whether you like it or not.

That’s the job of a motel housekeeper, the one we used to call “Ghost” because it sounded scary, but the job description hasn’t changed one iota.

She can still be that ghost if need be. “Do these folks really need new towels every single day?” She is also the Spirit that suggests you change those premium TV channels to watching the weather or golf channel when you should know better.

All right. Enough of the motel analogy. Or is an analogy. You don’t stay at a motel forever. Get the non-analogy? So, there’s that key, that soap, those towels, the leaves in the pool. Ummmm. What’s a divine Spirit to do?

The Spirit’s key opens doors that we thought were closed. Tragedy, setbacks, disappointments – we all lived our own lists and the Spirit readies us to open a new, revealing door. She loves those “Do Not Disturb” signs because she only haunts (I mean visits) those rooms more often than the others.

The soap? We seem never to have enough of something. What is that some thing that keeps stuffing itself into our lives? What stuff lingers in your head needs solving with the kindness of your soul? That’s the inspiring question from our spiritual housekeeper. What stuff do we continually stuff in our minds and heads until it becomes real? Stuff that separates us from those others, whomever they may be or where ever they may live? Or, more insidious is stuff that separates us from ourselves. Spring cleaning means more than our homes and gardens. Spiritually, it means cleaning up all of the stuff in the stuffed suitcases we laboriously carry around every day. Gossip is a form of stealing, theft. It tarnishes another’s reputation in order to bolster yours.

So far, I’ve used the word “stuff” twelve times. And, most of the time, it’s precisely what it is – just stuff. Stuff that damages your identity with the Trinity or stuff that damages your thoughts and opinions about the world around us. Let us allow ourselves and the power of the Holy Spirit to unstuff stuff that keeps us from our authentic selves or keeps us from each other.

Unfortunately these days many television stations, but not all, no longer provide information but stuff. Silly stuff. Scary stuff. Stuff to keep you watching and fearful about your personal future and, more seriously, scared of your neighbor. And, I don’t mean those who live to the left or right of your home. It’s all the neighbors we call the Body of Christ. When selfish stuff fills our minds then the Holy Spirit uses her master key to exchange those towels that have dried ourselves with division and discord. Helping us to move from the stuff of our minds to the unifying primacy of our souls.

I hope that you’ve noticed that I haven’t mentioned the importance of an “informed conscience.” A powerful Catholic tool for the soul and supported by the motel management. It’s not only simply a conscience but one that’s informed by our Church’s traditions and history. I also didn’t mention “discernment” which occurs after we turn the TV or whatever device off and recollect – re-collect – what we’ve heard and seen and then process it through the filter of our Catholic tradition. And, I didn’t mention “prayer” not even once. And we know how important prayer is.

Stuff. It’s what we insert in the Thanksgiving Turkey and what we insert to make our pillows comfortable. Stuffs what our motel housekeep helps us clean up or throw away. We think we’re unstuffing the stuffing yet how often adding to it.

I just added fifteen more the word “stuff” to the previous twelve. (Add one more of the word since I just said it.)

We have our work cut out for us. She has her work cut out for her and is here to fill us with herself. Those leaves piling up on the non-heated pool? It’s all the (that word) that keeps us from the warming waters from the motel’s owner, his registrar, and the welcoming, cheerful housekeeper who has the master key and promising us. She can dust, clean, vacuum, and make your bed every single day, complete with hospital tucks.

But do we really need fresh towels every day? If it’s from and delivered by the Holy Spirit, then you absolutely can bet on it. The minibar? That’s on your own.

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Tuesday, May 24 2022

This grade school daughter, friend, student, niece and grandchild wakes up a routine Tuesday morning thinking not of her homework and school but the soon arriving summer vacation and the sport activities she signed up for. 

A simple breakfast ends with mom’s promise of pizza tonight because her grades look better this year.

The bus arrives packed with backpacks full of completed homework. Collective chatterings echoes throughout the bus about nothing but everything important to growing grade school minds. The bus driver says to himself, “Thank goodness it’s only one more week of this.”

Smiles abound nearing the final days of this grade and promoted to the next growing level of this adventure we call life.

Bragging to her friends she says, “We’re having pizza tonight!”

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“No One Can Take You Out of My Hands”

You’re panicking and you’re anxious So, what do you do? You punch 911 on your phone. Wrong. You’d have either Bell or Parateck at your home with all of their paperwork and machines and they’d be wearing boots as though your home is full of mud. And, their bill will be in the mail.

No. Panicking and anxious? You call God. Simply press three zeros on your phone, and then hear the following message: “All of our angels are currently busy, but your call is very important to us; otherwise, you would not be hearing this silly recorded message. Please be patient and listen to this cheesy jazz instrumental with no title.” A while later, a long while later.

The recorded message continues, “Thanks for waiting, for natural disasters, press 1, or if you’re an older adult dial 1. Press 2 for personal intentions, or just stay on the line for the next available angel to assist you.” That cheesy jazz music with no title continues.

Jesus says, “No one can take [those who believe in me] out of my hands.” If there ever was a more assuring and comforting sentence, I don’t know what it is. It’s a firm, unchanging belief – more than that, it is a divine vow. We all have our periodic wonderings and wanderings, daily doubts prompting more ice cream or an extra cocktail, all of our unanswerable questions, and even our wicked denials.

A divine vow. “No one can take [those who believe in me] out of my hands.” Today don’t consider other people like the “no one,” but only consider yourself. You are the “one” who red flags and harbors daily doubts. The constant of life is those daily doubts and wonderings but always coupled with the embracing love of God. Whatever the troubling topic – politics, religion, family, health; no matter the concern, God frowns and, at the same time, smiles at our quandaries with both arms ready to hold and hug us.

We ask, “Am I good enough?” God says, “Yes. I have created all of you and call you to be Me throughout your life’s journey.” “Can I improve?” God says, “It’s up to you, but my two buddies Jesus and the Holy Spirit can help you thoroughly along the way.” “Do I do good things to enrich the lives of others and enrich myself?” God replies, “Depends on the day,”

What is the distance between conflict and grace? Between our conflicts and God’s grace? The space is absolutely; how shall I say it – zero? There is no separation when the number is zero. It’s the distance we create or that we believe exists. It’s the “us” with our clenched hands, tightly folded arms – closed-in arms and giving-up arms compared to the power and constant loving engagement with our God – both in welcoming and stretching out both arms in both receiving us in our troubles and catching us before we fall.

Heck, if God’s busy in Ukraine. There’s still Jesus who’s bouncing how many bouncing balls in the air with predicaments everywhere. But therein lives, like the wind, she who whisks us up through and with her total attention and affection—the Holy Spirit. I guess you could say that God and Jesus are the huggers. The Holy Spirit gently and lovingly envelopes and strengthens us through every single situation of life. I’m told that she even offers us all seven gifts. Seven gifts for each day of the week. Each gift begins and ends with the gift for her last gift to us – the wonder and honoring of our Creator.

And, on this Mother’s Day weekend, please don’t ever ignore the feminine side of God. Like God’s creation, there’s a bit of both in us. My priest friend cries during cat food commercials.

Like the old Bing Crosby movies as Father O’Malley says, “Just dial ‘O,’” Fr. O’Malley meant to say ‘zero.’ (I couldn’t resist.)

The recorded angel calls you the next day and says, “The Holy Spirit thanks you for your call and asks you to please remain on the line for a quick three-question survey about her service with you. Please remember that pressing ten or dialing ten, if you’re old, means a score of perfectly celestial ‘excellence.’”

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A Mother’s Day Blessing


There is only One God and there is only one mother.
God knew you before you were born and so did she. She carries you through the grocery store waddling down aisle after aisle looking for food that you need. She carefully gets into the car and fastens a seat belt around the two of you.

She eats for both of you during those enlarging months. (The ice cream is for her, the yogurt is for you.) Mother. Now one, united but soon to be two. Now, as an undefined unity but soon to be separated but forever one.

Then that day, on that one birth day, which in future years, you think is completely dedicated to you and celebrated with friends but rarely with her, she released you to this waiting world where she waits for you more times than you can imagine.

She patiently teaches you how to hold it for either number one or two or for both of them. One day or someday you may teach her how to let go.

She reviews your crayon sketches not knowing what you were attempting to convey but smilingly tells you that it is truly a work of art and worthy of the refrigerator door. (Your first public showing!)

Before her eyes close at night she thinks of you and your safety – and when her eyes open in the morning and the oatmeal needs to be made, she thinks of you once again.

She will drive you where ever you wish to go and sometimes wish not – soccer, football, glee club, drama club, orthodontist, barber and perhaps even a psychologist to help explain your sudden emotional outbursts. You find her to be as demanding as a German commandant and as patient as one who watches paint dry.

She will tickle you, read to you, bathe you, scold and reprimand you for as long as it takes. She will act as president when a decision needs to be made, counselor when your first friend abandons you, priest to help bury the gerbil that she never liked anyway, and most importantly she will be the observer – not to haunt but to guide you skillfully and carefully through misguided choices, impulsive decisions and that wrong friend from that neighborhood.

She will judge and weigh you for the rest of her life but she will never condemn you. She will evaluate you and like a good Chess player always stay at least three moves ahead of you. She may not even play Chess but she will win…every time.

You will finally be on your own and think that you are free of her but (and here’s the haunting part), her messages, mantras, platitudes, absolutes, aphorisms, family secrets that no one can ever know about (but everybody does), all her hopes and dreams for you will continue to filter through and live in your mind, soul and heart.

We are in God’s house this day but mother lives more intimately and personally than any Deity could have imagined. No wonder our Christian God is a jealous God, He has mother to compete with Him.

So, dear Lord, grant them patience, love, wisdom, and the grace to know when to speak and when to remain silent. Grant a special grace to those women who are or will be “Mother” to foster children, adoptive children, or who provide a mother’s touch to children not their own. Strengthen those mothers who are separated from their children. Strengthen those who raise their children without the support of a husband. Heal the hearts of mothers hurt by broken relationships with their children. Comfort mothers who mourn a deceased child, bless, too, those mothers and grandmothers who are now at rest in you.

When she dies her legacy will continue to live within you…whether you like it or not. What started at the grocery store continues now through you. Don’t ignore it. Don’t also heed her enduring messages every time but do not ever forget them. (You may even try to forget them but those messages have not forgotten you.)

Mother. God bless them. God has to bless them. What choice does He have? What could He, in His creative and omnipotent powers, do without them?

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