Everything He Has Is Ours

This post also appeared in the Sunday, March 17, issue of the St. Michael Catholic Church bulletin.

A few weeks ago I was blessed to attend a day-long silent retreat for church staff, led by Father Park. It had been a long while since my last silent retreat, and the time was truly blessed.

One of the scripture passages given to us for reflection was an old standby: the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32). Like many of you, I’ve heard this story countless times and sometimes approach it like an old friend I know well, slipping into familiar patterns without a second look or thought.

This time was different. Instead of focusing on the father’s forgiveness, the younger son’s repentance, or the older son’s hardness of heart, what struck me was the father’s unflagging generosity with both his sons.

Or, more specifically, our Heavenly Father’s unfailing generosity with me.

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Blessed to Be Here

This post appeared as a column in the St. Michael Catholic Church bulletin for December 17, 2023.

A couple of weeks ago, we announced that our long-time youth minister, John O’Sullivan, has been hired to promote his brainchild (or rather, heartchild), Extreme Faith Camp (EFC), to parishes across the archdiocese. For those who don’t know, EFC is a wild, week-long Catholic summer camp that brings middle-schoolers to a deep encounter with the love of Jesus through fun and fellowship, small groups, prayer, and the sacraments.

Aside from making Mass a priority in our own lives, EFC was the single best thing Jodi and I did for our kids to engage them in the faith. Where else do tweens and teens enjoy a parent-free week with their friends and come back saying their favorite part was Adoration?

EFC is just one of the many reasons we are blessed to have been here in St. Michael for the past 20+ years. This parish’s strong support of marriage and family life is another, not to mention our beautiful church, our stellar parish school…the list goes on. We are a growing Catholic community because we have something for everyone—every person and family, at every stage.

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Strong and Wrong or Weak and Wise?


This post appeared as a column in the Sunday, November 19, edition of the St. Michael Catholic Church bulletin.

Last Wednesday’s gospel challenged me. Jesus starts and ends with strong, provocative language—”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” (Luke 14:26) and “In the same way, every one of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:33).

In between, he offers two examples for our reflection. In the first, He asks who would undertake to build a tower without first calculating whether or not he could finish it; in the second, he calls to mind a king assessing the strength of an advancing army to determine whether he could successfully oppose them.

In both examples, the concern is clear: Will I be able to persevere and succeed with the resources I have at hand? But the actions and outcomes are subtly different. In the first, the builder does not take the time to calculate, and his inability to complete his tower leads to failure and ridicule. In the second, however, the king does take the time, and upon realizing he cannot win, seeks peace before the battle ever begins.

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He’s Got His Little Ways

Blogger’s Note: This is a strange column. It appeared in last weekend’s bulletin for St. Michael Catholic Church. I wrote it early last week, just before deadline. Reading it, I recognize it as mine, but it feels like someone else wrote it. I have received direct feedback thanking me for writing and sharing it, because someone needed to hear it. Holy Spirit moment, then?

This morning an old Dwight Yoakam tune popped into my head: *

You’ve got your little ways to hurt me
You know just how to tear me up
And leave me in small pieces on the ground

The context was not a bad breakup or a cruel mistress, but the realization that I am, in many ways, the same sinner I was before my conversion. I’m not struggling with big sins that kept me separated from the Lord. But the struggles and temptations are still there, and I am often seemingly helpless against them. I’m still tempted to seek physical pleasure—most often in the forms of food, drink, and rest—instead of spiritual goods. And I still turn to the internet when I’m stressed or desire distraction—only now its online TV series, silly YouTube videos, sports highlights, and political news.

These are not grave issues, and most of the time, I am not consciously choosing them in opposition to what God is asking of me. The reality is less serious, but much more insidious: I slip unconsciously, effortlessly, out of the present moment and away from my family and responsibilities. Often I don’t realize until much later how much time I’ve lost or what I’ve missed; when I do realize, the Accuser is there, reminding me how childish and helpless I still am.

That’s where I found myself this morning. Last evening, I spent the final three or four hours before sleep vegging in front of a screen. It started with a family movie, followed by a clean comedy video, but then devolved into satirical movie trailers and political pundits by myself, on my phone. When I was almost too tired to get ready for bed, I realized I hadn’t prayed a rosary yet, despite having friends who needed those prayers. I rushed it while shuffling about getting ready for bed—then rose this morning and immediately opened a browser on my phone.

Holiness indeed, whispered the Accuser in my ear. You have no self-control at all, do you?

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Seeing Jesus in the Poor

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

James 1:27

A year or two ago, I took my dad to visit an old friend. I heard many stories from their younger days, from middle school through their time in the Army.

I knew my father grew up with a little bit of nothing: He was the youngest of his siblings; his mom died when he was little, and his dad and stepmom had new babies to provide for and little means to do it. That morning I learned that Dad and his friend lived out of Dad’s car for awhile when they were in high school, scraping together what money they could for food or a cheap hotel room by doing odd jobs for their teachers and neighbors.

I learned something else as well: As tough as Dad’s life was at that point, his friend’s was tougher. From his outside perspective, Dad had a wonderful family—a place to get a half loaf of bread if things got really bad. Dad was his friend’s safety net.

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