HOMILY
Catholic Men’s Conference
28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 10, 2026
First of all, thank you to our speakers – Bishop Coffey, John Martignoni and Rob Marco, who bailed us out when one of our scheduled speakers had to withdraw at the last minute. We are most grateful to all of you for your wisdom, example and presence with us today.
A month ago, we commemorated the 25th Anniversary of the September 11th terror attacks in New York City, Washington, D.C. and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. A quarter of a century later, every one of us can still recall right where we were when we first heard the news of a plane crashing into the south tower of the World Trade Center.
I read a reflection during the days leading up to this year’s commemoration. It was written by a construction worker who volunteered to do recovery work at the site of the collapsed World Trade Center in lower Manhattan on the very night of the attacks. It spoke a great deal about the generosity and goodness of human beings in the face of such hatred and evil. For me, it also speaks to the heart of the lesson we learn from today’s gospel passage.
The author of the reflection was a crane operator in the New York City area. Immediately after the attacks, he went to his union hall to volunteer. That very night, he – and his crane – were assigned to work at Ground Zero. These are his words. “I was directed to use my crane to clear a debris field three feet deep with heavy iron on top. Four or five ironworkers worked with me, and, like a miracle, twenty-five firefighters showed up with tanks and torches and we went to work. And we worked together as smooth as you can imagine.”
“As we worked, I began to pray for darkness because I couldn’t handle what I was seeing. Bodies of victims were everywhere. Needing a break, I sat on the curb with my head in my hands. It was the middle of the night. That’s when the Salvation Army kids appeared in their sneakers with their pink hair and belly buttons showing and bandanas tied around their faces. One girl pushed a shopping cart full of eyewash for us to use because of the dust that hung in the air. Others came with water and towels and took my boots off and put dry socks on my feet.”
“When I was finally relieved for the night and headed out from the debris field, a bunch more of these kids, all pierced and tattooed with multicolored hair, had made a little stage and they cheered us as we came out. I never identified with those types of people before, but I cried for blocks because of their kindness.”
“I’ve been a construction worker my whole life,” the writer went on. “I’m Catholic. I never knew anything about Episcopalians or Presbyterians or people with nuts and bolts through their cheeks or pink hair, but now I know them all. They were heroes too. They worked, they cried and they prayed out loud for me. I never thought I’d have a family like this one!”
In this story about September 11th at Ground Zero, twenty-five years ago, an unsuspecting construction worker, who volunteered to literally lift the burdens that crushed the lives of so many of our brothers and sisters that tragic day, learned a valuable lesson that we would all do well to sear into our minds and hearts.
If we are truly faithful to God’s plan and to the teaching of our Church, then we must embrace a faith-centered vision that sees beyond skin color, physical abilities, ethnic stereotypes, lifestyle and economic status and sees all men, women and children as having been made in the same image and likeness of God in which we are created. Oh, we preach the value of human life. Many of us march in Harrisburg and Washington to make our voices heard. But do we really promote the dignity of all life – not just in its beginnings or at the end but in between?
The parable that Jesus shared in today’s gospel, as unusual as it is on its surface, is addressed to the religious leaders of Jesus’ day and age who questioned his authority and sought to discredit him. But it’s also addressed to us, isn’t it?
Typically, as we learn from Jesus’ many encounters with these individuals, they had come to regard themselves as the righteous, believing that they had cornered the market on God and could limit God’s ability to forgive, to change hearts and to save. They alone were the chosen ones worthy of God’s grace – and those outside of their fold were not.
With their unyielding attitude of superiority and their rejection of Jesus’ teaching, they are the wedding guests who refuse the invitation of the King in the gospel parable. They were threatened by Jesus. But rather than looking into their own hearts to determine if he might be speaking to them and challenging them to change, they took the easy way out and dismissed the heart of the gospel message.
And what happened? The parable tells us that these self-righteous individuals who should have known better forfeited their chosen status. In response, rejected by his chosen people, God extended his invitation to the feast of the Kingdom to others – the gospel tells us, “to bad and good alike.”
In short, to the surprise of the religious leaders addressed in today’s gospel – and perhaps to our surprise as well – Jesus articulates a radically new vision of humanity that ignores suspicions, doubts and stereotypes and, instead, recognizes every person, first, as a child of God, worthy of respect, forgiveness and love. Fortunate for us that God invites us all to the banquet of the kingdom, with none of the distinctions we unfortunately maintain. From God’s perspective – we are all his beloved children, and we are all in need of his mercy.
But lest this understanding of God’s love and mercy be regarded as cheap grace, not demanding much on the part of the recipients – you and me – there’s a second parable told by Jesus within the story of the wedding feast that’s also worthy of our attention. The guest who was thrown out of the feast because he failed to wear an appropriate garment – an action that hardly seems fair, considering that he was likely arm twisted to attend the wedding feast in the first place – he reminds all of us that our reception of God’s saving grace demands something of us in return.
The wedding garment is the conversion of heart required for entry into the Kingdom. The Christian who does not “stand fast with the Church founded by Jesus Christ” – who does not wear a mantle of repentance and good deeds will suffer the same fate as those who reject the outright invitation to the wedding feast.
Saint Paul writes in his letter to the Romans, we must “put on” the garment of Christ. As disciples – followers of Jesus – we’re called to live our faith with authenticity. It’s not enough for us to say we’re Christians or to feel justified by self-righteously looking down upon those who are not. We need to give our faith a life and profess what we believe through the words we speak, the pattern of our lives and the depth of our love and forgiveness.
You chose as your theme for this year’s Conference, Just be Catholic. So, remember what that means and demands from us. It means that through the sacramental life of our Church, especially through Penance and Holy Eucharist, we find mercy, forgiveness and the presence of Christ. It means that we are called by Baptism to live our faith – to proclaim the truths of our Church, not just what we pick and choose but what the Church teaches as truth – to stand in unity with the bishops and ultimately with our Holy Father, the Vicar of Christ – and to preach with words and by our lives the gospel of Jesus and his message of mercy and forgiveness.
In these challenging times fraught by far too much anger, polarization, suffering and pain, we would all do well to reflect upon today’s Gospel parable a bit more carefully. Our world needs peace and healing – in Iran, the Middle East and Ukraine. But our world also needs peace and healing from the hatred and division that have taken root in our own land – and in our own lives as well.
So, brothers, stand fast with the Church founded by Jesus Christ, who is the same yesterday, today and forever. Be strong in your faith and humble enough to know that we are all desperately in need of God’s mercy. And just be Catholic – in the fullest sense of what that means – privileged members of the one Church of Christ, the surest means of our life, our salvation and our peace.
HOMILY
Respect Life Mass – October 4, 2026
27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
“The defense of human life is neither a partisan issue nor a confessional interest: it is a goal of civilization. Every human life must be recognized and safeguarded from conception to its natural end, in every circumstance of its existence. When this certainty is obscured, the most vulnerable are the first victims, and the law loses its deepest meaning: to serve and protect every person. For this reason, the moral greatness of a nation is manifested, above all, in its capacity to accompany, protect and love those lives that are most fragile.”
Pope Leo XIV shared these remarks this past summer during his pastoral visit to the people of Spain, whose socialist-led government has been advancing efforts to enshrine abortion protections in the country’s constitution. But the Holy Father could have just as easily addressed these words to most any country in the world, including our own. For every step forward that has been achieved in the endless long battle to protect human life, it seems that there is always an equal and opposite step taken that diminishes respect and reverence for the sanctity of God’s greatest gift.
A month ago, we commemorated the twenty-fifth anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks in New York, Washington, D.C. and Shanksville, Pennsylvania. We relived that moment in our country’s recent history as if it were yesterday, recounting where we were at the time, how we felt and the tragic implications of that unbelievable invasion of our country by those who simply sought to destroy human life.
It’s rather paradoxical, however, that so many of us can at once react so intensely to the loss of human life when it is taken away so unjustly, yet at the same time, pay little heed to efforts in our land that undermine the very building blocks of a just world for all forms of life created in the image and likeness of God.
Human life is threatened far more today than we realize or are willing to acknowledge. While the decades long fight to overturn Roe v. Wade was finally won in 2022, authority to regulate or ban the procedure was returned to individual states. As such, although abortion is banned or very limited in numerous states, ten states allow the procedure at any point in a pregnancy.
What’s more, euthanasia and assisted suicide practices are increasingly prevalent in various parts of the world, with assisted suicide currently authorized in thirteen states in our own land. The death penalty, which is not only opposed by Church teaching but is clearly cruel and unusual punishment as we’ve seen as recently as this week in the news, continues to be an option for the punishment of certain crimes. Efforts to achieve human cloning continue. And human trafficking is rampant as well as unjust immigration laws and actions.
Sadly, while many of us as Catholics and people of good will are deeply committed to the protection of life in its earliest moments and its final hours, we can, at the same time, be a bit too arbitrary in determining which lives in between are worthy of respect. Unfortunately, such shifting attitudes towards the sanctity of human life have consequences.
The sin of abortion, euthanasia and so many other life-threatening actions is not solely the ending of a human life, as tragic as that may be, but the fact that in all these instances, the strong decide the fate of the weak. Human beings become instruments in the hands of other human beings for their own perverse reasons.
And isn’t that what we find so unsettling about terrorism, evil in our world today and tragic events like September 11th? … How can one person or group of individuals assume the right to decide whether another person or category of people has the right to live or die?
The protection and preservation of human life can never be a relative effort. By its very nature, human life demands absolute protection from conception to natural end. Respect for the dignity of every human being must be upheld and witnessed to always – even when such a stance places us in opposition to popular values, political expediency, and the tide of today’s evolving cultural norms.
In the first reading on this, the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Respect Life Sunday – the prophet Isaiah speaks of a friend who started to plant a vineyard. The friend, in reality, is God, who out of infinite love, creates a world for us, a world that has the potential to embrace love, truth and life. But what happens to this perfect vineyard? Isaiah tells us that it yields nothing but wild grapes and falls into ruin. Who ruined the vineyard, Isaiah muses? Was it God, its creator? No, he tells us. No. The vineyard was ruined because God’s cherished plants – God’s people – answered justice with bloodshed and love with self-concern.
This same theme of unrighteousness is echoed in today’s gospel parable. It concludes with God, the owner of the vineyard, coming himself to destroy the tenants and handing the vineyard to others who will yield an abundant harvest.
Every one of us has been given a portion of God’s vineyard to cultivate. The vineyard – God’s creation entrusted to our care – is not remote. It is not contrived or make believe. The vineyard is as close as the home you return to after this Mass. It is as close as the nearest nursing home, or clinic, or prison, or school. It is here – in his people, made in his own image and likeness – all around us.
What will we do with the vineyard that we’ve been given? … Will we give in to a culture of death, which lays waste to the beauty that God has so wondrously created in his people? … Or will we heed the Gospel of Life and love them? Will we love the least and most forgotten, the ones who are hardest to love or even see? Through compassion, selfless love, and a commitment to true justice for all, will we realize a meaningful and fulfilling harvest – regardless of how small or insignificant we and others might regard our portion of the vineyard – by treasuring every life that God has placed in our care?
In becoming the mother of Jesus, the Blessed Virgin Mary, our mother, becomes the mother of life. Her acceptance in that unplanned and unforeseen moment demonstrates how each of us is called to welcome the gift of human life, even when that gift is unexpected or calls us to make sacrifices.
Every day of our lives, we are given a choice: to treasure life or cast it aside. … As individuals who profess to be Christians, we say that we treasure life. … As Christians who claim to be authentic followers of Jesus, we must also show that we choose life – at every opportunity – regardless of how unpopular or inconvenient the choice may be.
With these words of Pope Leo, may we implore the Lord “to help His Church (you and me) become a living witness of the Gospel of life, an open home where every life is celebrated, where no one feels unwanted, and where dignity is always honored and protected.”
HOMILY
Hispanic Heritage Mass – Our Lady Queen of Peace Parish, Brodheadsville
“Together We are More”
September 19, 2026
Most Friday afternoons, I manage to get out of my office early and make my way to my 98-year-old mother’s house. In addition to visiting with her and having dinner together, I spend most of the afternoons doing what I enjoy – working around her house, especially in her yard, pruning or trimming trees and shrubs and planting everything from flowers to herbs and always a tomato plant or two. I suspect that many of you also enjoy working in your gardens!
But if you’re familiar with gardening, today’s gospel may raise more questions than answers. Jesus tells a parable about a farmer – a sower – who went out to sow seeds … on a path … on rocky ground … among thorns and weeds … and on rich soil. A thoughtful planter might wonder why the sower wasted seeds in those areas that weren’t particularly hospitable to the growing process.
There was, however, a method to the sower’s technique. You see, the terrain of first century Palestine was so inhospitable to growing anything, that the farmer sewed seeds everywhere to maximize his yield.
Jesus used this image with which most of us are familiar to teach us a lesson on how receptive we are to the presence of God in our lives. The seed represents God’s Word – the message of life and salvation. And the various types of soil represent us who receive God’s presence in all sorts of different ways. … So, for example, sometimes we do little to nurture the presence of God that’s planted in our lives. What’s given to us with great effort by our family or friends or parish community is disregarded and, in turn, withers and dies, like seed that’s scattered on a rocky soil. … Occasionally the Word of God is given to us and it seems to have great potential to support and sustain us in life’s journey – until like seeds that are surrounded and overwhelmed by weeds – we yield to all sorts of competing values and lifestyles that the world holds before us as worthwhile and appealing. … But more often than we might realize, when the presence of God is received well, nurtured and given care, like the seed that falls on rich soil, it grows and bears fruit that sustain us and others.
Jesus provides us with a reality check of what we so often do with the gift of faith that’s planted in our lives at Baptism. Sometimes we care for it – and sometimes we don’t. When we care for the presence of God, it readily provides us with meaning, consolation, peace and life. But, when we fail to nurture our relationship with God, we may not find much of anything when we need to tap God’s presence in our life. That’s not so because God is absent – but because we haven’t learned to listen to his voice or know where to look to find him.
Today’s gospel parable also offers us insight into how we nurture the presence of God in our lives. We do so when we reflect upon God’s Word in our prayer, in our celebration of the sacraments and in the devotional practices that are so important in our lives. But we ought never forget that we nurture the presence of God best in our lives when we serve our brothers and sisters and allow the values of our faith to become so much a part of who we are that we live what we profess, in season and out.
What do I mean? Consider another element of the parable that we often overlook – the sower – the farmer. Jesus doesn’t give the sower much attention in the story. His role is quite minimized in comparison to the seed – the Word of God – and the various types of soil that represent you and me and how receptive we are to the presence of God.
It’s quite possible, however, that Jesus may have intentionally minimized the sower’s role in the parable to remind us that it is also simply our responsibility, in season and out, to keep on sowing seeds – to keep spreading the message of the Gospel in word and deed – regardless of the soil in which it lands. And then to leave the rest up to God!
In short, the more we proclaim the message of Jesus, the more lives that are given an opportunity to be touched by his saving grace, and the more we are able – together – to change our world and to build God’s Kingdom of justice, love and peace.
Brothers and sisters, these are not easy times in which we find ourselves. And far too many of you have suffered because of injustice and a lack of respect on the part of those who should know better. In such moments that can often overwhelm you, hold fast to the promise of Jesus and walk together in faith with your sisters and brothers! And above all, live out the values of the Gospel for which Jesus gave his life. It is what we are all called to do as disciples of the Lord.
In the great Westminster Abbey in London, there’s a memorial to a canon of the Abbey and a great preacher to the poor, Samuel Barnett. The memorial contains words that Barnett believed with all his heart: “Fear not to sow because of the birds.”
There will always be challenges to our efforts to nurture the seeds of faith that we sow in our world. But by the grace of God, those seeds will take root and will yield a harvest far greater than we might ever believe possible. … Never forget, my brothers and sisters, in your willingness to sow the seeds of faith and to live the values of the gospel, you provide hope to many. And that, my friends, is all that the Lord asks any of us to do – for together we are more than when we stand alone.
God bless you and thank you for your witness!
HOMILY
Mass of the Holy Spirit for Chancery Staff – September 17, 2026
Thursday of the 24th Week in Ordinary Time
We gather in prayer as many of us do every day – to give thanks to God for the gift of life – to pray for the needs of those we love – and to ask for the guidance that we need to get from one day to the next with a sense of peace. Today, we also come together in prayer as Diocesan staff to pray for the blessings of the Holy Spirit as we begin a new season of service to the people of God in our local Church.
Over the past few months, many of you have spoken to me about my experiences while walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain earlier in the summer. For all the things I experienced, encountering those who were also walking the Camino was one of the best parts of the journey. People walk the Camino for all sorts of reasons. Some see it as a spiritual journey. Some as a test of endurance. Some to participate in a thousand-year-old tradition.
While most pilgrims kept their exchanges lighthearted with a pleasant greeting, a comment about a particularly arduous path, the weather and the like, today’s gospel reminded me of a brief but poignant encounter that I had with one pilgrim. After sharing very little small-talk, this middle-aged man quickly shared the following, “Brother, I’m walking this path to make up to God for what I’ve done in my life. It’s a journey of reconciliation.” … That’s all he said – but by the way he said it, I know beyond a doubt that it was heartfelt, sincere and likely life-changing.
And that’s something of what we experience in today’s gospel. A Pharisee named Simon – a well-respected individual in his community – invited Jesus and a few others to dine with him. As the meal progressed, a sinful woman of the town approached Jesus and began to anoint his feet with oil and bathe them with her tears.
Simon and his guests were appalled by the exchange that they witness between Jesus and sinful woman, particularly because Jesus didn’t dismiss the uninvited woman but graciously accepted her act of loving hospitality as she anointed Jesus’ feet.
This story is typical of Saint Luke’s gospel. Again and again in Luke, we see Jesus lifting people out of the boxes in which they have been placed, from the most despised tax collector to the criminal hanging next to him on Calvary. He recognizes and acknowledges the movements toward God that resonate within their hearts, despite what many righteous individuals are inclined to focus upon from viewing the surface of their lives.
Interestingly enough, the sinful woman’s attitude stood in stark contrast to that of Jesus’ host, Simon, the self-righteous Pharisee who believed that Jesus had disgraced himself by his acceptance of the repentant woman. Sadly, however, Simon failed to understand everyone’s need – including his and our own – for forgiveness and reconciliation with those we hurt and with those who hurt us.
Yet, in the plan of God, only in accepting the grace of God at work in the lives of others are any of us able to experience the same loving forgiveness of God that the penitent woman received from Jesus.
Every one of us is in need of forgiveness and of healing the hurts that estrange us from others. … As disciples of Jesus, we are called to forgive, not to keep score. … We are called to welcome back those who want to return and to enable them to put their lives back together, not to establish litmus tests to prove their sincerity or orthodoxy. … And we’re called to recognize that the brokenness we see in others is hardly a reason for us to bristle at their sinfulness but more often than not simply a mirror into our own lives.
Not long ago, Pope Leo put it best when he shared these words: Christ’s peace is not the silence of the tomb after a conflict. … It is a gift that gazes at others and renews their lives. Let us pray for this peace, which is reconciliation, forgiveness, and courage to turn the page and start again.
We gather as a Diocesan staff – as members of the Church – as disciples of Jesus – all in need of forgiveness, healing and the power and presence of God in our lives. … Like Jesus, may we welcome and honor the poor and struggling, the lost and broken in our midst and in so doing, realize that authentic discipleship always demands that we admit of our own need for the same forgiveness and acceptance that we will only find at the feet of Jesus.
HOMILY
Diocesan Teacher’s Institute
Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
14 September 2026
The Jewish author, Elie Wiesel, in his book Night, chronicles the horrors he experienced living in Nazi death camps during the Second World War. He remembers a young boy, hanged with two other men at the Nazi camp at Buna. He writes:
“For more than ½ an hour, the boy struggled between life and death, dying a slow agony under our eyes. We had to look at him full in the face. Behind me, I heard someone asking: “Where is God now?” And Dr. Wiesel goes on to say: “I heard a voice within me answer: ‘Where is God? Here he is – he is hanging here on these gallows.’”
And we turn our attention to the cross on which hangs Jesus, our crucified God. A crucified God not simply due to a lack of relevance in the midst of a suffering world. No – a crucified God – suffering with a broken world – suffering with victims of abuse – suffering with those afflicted with cancer – suffering with all those who grieve because of loss and death.
God could have chosen to relate to his creation in any way he wanted. Yet he chose to relate to it – to us who are made in his very image and likeness – through his son Jesus, who took on human flesh and substance. And he chose to have Jesus carry a cross so that we, in our suffering – pain – and grief might discover a God who understands – because he too carried a cross – and a God who reminds us that we do not suffer alone.
And what underlies this motivation on the part of God to relate so intimately to his creation – to me and to you? Love.
God loves us with an utterly pure and generous love. He doesn’t become greater or happier because we love him. He doesn’t love us because we have somehow merited his love. God loves us only because he is pure, unbounded love.
Today’s gospel passage is far more familiar to us than we might realize at first glance. I’m sure not a few of us have noticed references to it on banners at football games and on bumper stickers: John 3:16. … “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”
We’ve all heard this passage – these words of life – before. But let’s not end with verse 16. Let’s recall verse 17 as well. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” That’s the deeper message for all of us today – a message of hope and promise!
Sadly, however, some of us have forgotten the message of the Word of God. We’ve developed a skewed image of God that’s not consistent with the scriptures or particularly with the words of Jesus himself. We picture God as a judge, only too eager to condemn our missteps or misguided choices in life. While others of us have adopted a sense of self-righteousness that finds us competing with God as the ultimate judge of the world, only too eager to point fingers, to condemn and determine who is worthy of God’s love and who is not! That’s not the message of today’s gospel or today’s feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. Not at all!
If we listen carefully and are humble enough to set aside our own agendas and our own misguided understanding of God’s relationship to us, Jesus paints a very different picture for us. The Word of God is clear and unambiguous throughout salvation history! God reaches out to us time and again, even after we choose darkness rather than light. It’s God who desires to raise us up when we fall – not we who do so ourselves! For none of us are worthy. It is God who is rich in mercy. And all of us are in need of God’s saving grace.
But God’s grace is far from cheap, brothers and sisters. While we will always be burdened with the brokenness of our world, being raised up requires that we first admit that we’ve fallen down. God doesn’t seek perfection. He does, however, seek hearts that are humble enough to acknowledge that brokenness and to trust in his power to save us.
My good friends, we have entrusted to your care thousands of the greatest treasures that we possess in this local Church that we know as the Diocese of Scranton. We have entrusted to you our children. You, in turn, sacrifice daily to give them the very best of what you have – your wisdom – common sense – patience – a listening ear – time – countless tokens of your kindness – and love, born from your generous hearts.
In a world that has become so complicated, so secularized and so consumed with values that are far removed from the gospel we’ve been given to proclaim, thank you for sharing your faith. Thank you for not only teaching our children about the God who so loved our world that he sent us his son Jesus so that we might have life. Thank you for giving life to what you teach by becoming the hands, the voice and the heart of Jesus for those lives that so desperately need to experience God’s love. And on those days when you don’t feel quite up to it, thank you for being a living sign of God’s care, particularly for those children who may not experience such love and acceptance but for you. That is what sets us apart as teachers and administrators in Catholic schools.
The good news of the scripture today on this Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is that God has not stopped reaching out to any of us. God meets us where we are – in our suffering and pain – in our grief and loss – in our classrooms and homes – and in the children who come our way seeking to be loved and respected! So, continue to invite God into your life as it is, whether you find yourself in light or darkness. Trust in his promise. And remember, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” … Thankfully, the world that today’s gospel proclaims includes me and you!
HOMILY
23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – La Festa Italiana Mass
September 6, 2026
What a great gathering – as we join together for this Mass celebrating Italian heritage and the 50th Anniversary of La Festa Italiana here in the city of Scranton. Welcome to your cathedral. Welcome to all who take the time to begin this wonderful day in prayer – exactly the way in which so many who have gone before us would not only want us to begin – but expect us to do so.
And a special word of thanks to three centenarians who join us today: Father Joseph Adonizio, a priest of our diocese for 70 of his 100 years, who is concelebrating Mass – and Mary Marino and Rosann Zaleski, also both 100 years young, who have participated in every La Festa and will be presenting the offertory gifts later during the Mass. You honor us with your presence.
Perhaps it’s my age that prompts me more than ever to think about those who truly helped to make this day possible – the parents, grandparents and great-grandparents of so, so many of us who came to this land eighty, ninety, one hundred years ago with hope for better lives for themselves and for their families.
As we reflect upon the heritage that our ancestors brought to this land, it’s pretty obvious from our gathering this morning that they didn’t simply bring recipes and traditions. They brought faith. They built community. They shared from their bounty and even from their poverty. And they served – as the Lord whom they worshipped gave example.
I’m certain that not a few of us here today recall stories passed on within our families of generosity and sacrifice, forgiveness and reconciliation. My own mother and father shared many stories of life growing up in the Great Depression when strangers would knock on a door looking for food and were invited in to share a meal with the family.
And family was everything in those days, wasn’t it. While our ancestors were hardly perfect and could hold a grudge with the best of them for one reason or another, they also understood how valuable it was and is to resolve differences, to forgive and to work together – as one – one family, one people and one Church.
To be certain, times have changed. Few of us would ever be courageous enough to invite a perfect stranger to sit at table with our families. Life and society seem to have placed all sorts of obstacles in our paths to challenge family unity and Christian values. Yet, for all the challenges that we face, we still have the power – through faith – to live together in harmony and peace as brothers and sisters.
Today’s gospel passage is taken from a portion of St. Matthew’s gospel that includes a collection of Jesus’ sayings on the practical challenges facing the Christian community two thousand years ago and today: the challenges that emerge from excessive pride, division and conflict among members of the faithful.
While we’re not often comfortable acknowledging that things aren’t how they should be in relationships within our family, among our friends or even in our parishes, mending broken relationships is vital for us as Christians. As such, the point of Jesus’ words is less about a complicated process of mediation and far more of a challenge to all of us that we should never tolerate a breach between ourselves and another member of the Christian community – regardless of where blame is to be placed.
In fact, Jesus pleads with us not to allow our judgments, our wounds or disappointments to isolate us from others. Instead, he challenges us to set aside self-interest, wounded pride and a desire for revenge and to take the first step in healing the rifts that destroy the sense of love that should bind together family, friends, parishes and, yes, even nations!
And why is it so vital from Jesus’ perspective that we heal our relationships? Because it’s in our relationships – flesh and blood relationships – that we experience God and live out our faith!
Years ago, when I served on the faculty of our college seminary before I was appointed as bishop, I would often challenge our seminarians as they talked about their desire to deepen their relationship with God. “So, you want to experience God more deeply. Good. Then tell me what you’re doing to encounter God.” They would often respond by sharing with me their participation in the sacraments – particularly Reconciliation and the Holy Eucharist. They would describe their daily commitment to prayer, adoration and meditation on the Word of God in the Scripture.
Invariably, when they were done, I would ask them, “What about your relationships with one another in the seminary? Are you getting along with your fellow seminarians? How about your family – your parents and your brothers and sisters? It’s easy to love God in a chapel – or in moments of quiet prayer. God rarely talks back to us! If you want to truly encounter God, look at the lives that God has placed in your own! Love them! Don’t judge them but serve them! Be reconciled with them. And see in those relationships the presence of God.” Our relationships one with another are as good a place as it gets for those of us who seek to encounter God in our lives!
At the heart of Jesus’ words in today’s gospel – and yes, at the heart of this great celebration of La Festa Italiana – is the challenge that he gives to all of us to take upon ourselves the work of tending to our relationships – the hard work of reconciliation – the mission of every Christian. Brothers and sisters, that’s the blessing our parents, grandparents and great-grandparents prayed would come to pass every day, binding families and neighbors together – a blessing that still provides us with hope – and a blessing that reflects the presence of God at work in our lives leading us through a divided and turbulent world to a place of peace.
HOMILY
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time – August 2, 2026
Catholic Charismatic Renewal Conference Closing Mass
As some of you know, less than two weeks ago, I returned from Spain where I participated in a life-long desire that I was finally able to achieve at age 70! I walked a portion of the Camino de Santiago, the pilgrim’s path to the shrine of Saint James the Apostle located in Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. Faithful souls have engaged this journey for well over a thousand years – some walking a mere 100 kilometers – the 60+ miles that I walked – and some traversing mountains and valleys for hundreds of miles, beginning in points as far away as southern Spain and France.
The Camino began in its earliest days as a spiritual undertaking to visit the shrine of Saint James in Compostela. According to tradition, Saint James preached the gospel message to the faithful who inhabited the Iberian Peninsula before returning to Palestine where he was became the first apostle of Jesus to be martyred. While most pilgrims still engage the Camino as a prayerful, sacrificial experience, people walk it for all sorts of reasons. Some engage it as a time to reflect upon life and the beauty of creation – others as a test of their physical endurance. … And for many, the Camino is an opportunity to reflect upon what is most important in life, where we are most likely to find lasting fulfillment and meaning, and precisely what God may be asking us to embrace as we walk our own particular journey of life.
In reflecting upon the scriptures proclaimed this afternoon, I was reminded of this reason for walking the Camino that so many fellow pilgrims offered as we walked together and shared our stories.
Listen to how Isaiah the prophet speaks to the search within each of our hearts for the values that last and provide us with a way forward in life. “Thus says the Lord: All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat; come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk! Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what fails to satisfy?”
These verses offer a foundational biblical passage where God extends a free, universal invitation to salvation. It calls out to the spiritually weary and broken, urging them to stop chasing temporary, worldly fulfillment and instead embrace the free, life-giving relationship God offers to us all.
Through the voice of Isaiah, God beckons “all who are thirsty” and those with “no money” to come and partake of water, wine, and milk. These are metaphors for the life-giving grace of God. And the catch is that there is no catch. God’s grace is offered freely, without cost. Our salvation is not earned or purchased by human effort. No, it is gift – pure gift!
In these hope-filled, familiar words, God pierces our human condition with a profound question: Why do you spend money on what is not bread, and labor for what does not satisfy? Where do you look to find the surest treasure that life can offer? From what do you drink to quench your thirst and what do you eat to satisfy your deepest hunger?
The questions posed by the words of Isaiah carry us to the gospel passage just proclaimed: the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish. Did you know that today’s gospel that recounts the feeding of the multitudes is the only one of Jesus’ miracles recorded in all four Gospels? Undoubtedly, it is given such a distinction because of the great sacrament that it foreshadows. The first Christians especially cherished the story because they saw the miracle as a direct link to the Eucharist. Indeed, the very actions of the miracle prefigure the actions of the eucharistic meal, as Jesus takes, blesses, breaks and gives the bread and fish to the multitude of hungry souls.
In that eucharistic meal that we will celebrate at this altar in just a few moments, all of the deepest longings of the human heart – the thirst and hunger for meaning and purpose, for human fulfillment and peace – all of these longings are realized through the gift of the Savior – Jesus – his body and blood given for our life and salvation.
But the eucharistic experience doesn’t end solely with my hunger or your thirst being satiated. No, there are other elements of the story of the feeding of the multitudes that also speak to our understanding of the Eucharist and of our lives as followers of Jesus.
Let’s first look at the disciples. Somewhat pessimistically, they approach Jesus to inform him that it’s late in the day, they’re in a deserted place and the crowds are likely getting hungry. Their solution: dismiss them so that they can care for themselves. Frankly, I’ve often wondered if implicit in the disciples’ response was their hope that with the crowds gone, they’d have Jesus to themselves, plus a little peace and quiet.
But that wasn’t Jesus’ plan. “There’s no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” And as if to prove that Jesus’ plan was folly, the disciples managed to find some food – a mere five loaves and two fish from someone who was willing to share the little that she or he had. “This is all we have, Lord. But what good is this for so many?” … Jesus’ response to the disciples’ disappointing efforts, “Bring them here to me.” … And then he takes, blesses, breaks and gives the bread and fish to the reluctant disciples to give to the hungry crowds – and a miracle happened.
Do you notice something about the dynamic that takes place as this miracle unfolds? Jesus could have fed the multitudes in whatever way he chose to feed them. But he specifically chose to engage his disciples in this process. At first, they weren’t convinced of his plans. They seemed to have been a bit reluctant to follow his lead. Yet, throughout their entire exchange, including using the disciples to miraculously distribute a few loaves and fish to feed thousands, Jesus set the stage for how he presence would endure following his passion, death and resurrection and how the Church would grow. … His disciples – Peter, James, John, Andrew, you and me – no matter how ill-equipped or reluctant, would become his hands, his voice, his heart and his presence in our world.
St. Augustine put it best when he reflected upon the Eucharist – so powerfully foreshadowed in today’s gospel miracle, “Become the mystery you celebrate.” … Become the broken Christ whose life was poured forth for those that he loved. … Become the loving, compassionate Christ who multiplied loaves and fish and fed the hungry multitudes, satisfying not only their physical needs, but their desire to be nourished fulfilled by the God.
In reflecting upon the Eucharist during his recent trip to Spain, Pope Leo offered these thoughts. “Let us open ourselves to this unique encounter with Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. Let us allow him to quench the thirst of our hearts, so that we may then go forth into the paths of life and history, bringing to the people this stream of fresh water, a stream of love, peace, justice and joy. Let us drink anew from this Eucharistic spring, which does not enclose us in private devotion, but sends us out to refresh our brothers and sisters, our families, the poor, the suffering, and those who have lost hope. Eucharistic grace transforms us and makes us protagonists of the transformation of history, a sign of hope for those we meet.”
All that we are as Christians – broken and redeemed souls – and all that we are meant to be – the merciful, loving presence of God in our world – all of this is discovered in the Eucharist, the body and blood of Jesus that rests upon this altar.
Brothers and sisters, Jesus is present. See him here before us. Feel his love poured forth from the cross for you. Know that there is nothing in your past or in your life at this moment that cannot be forgiven and healed by Jesus. So, allow his mercy and forgiveness to envelope your lives and to recreate your spirits. Trust in his promise to save. Open your hearts and let his love fill you with peace. … Receive Christ and then, filled with his life, become Christ for our broken world.
HOMILY
17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 26, 2026
Saint Ann’s Novena Closing Mass
What a joy to be together this evening! Praise God for the gift and blessings of this Novena!
Before we reflect upon the Word of God this evening, allow me to acknowledge a few individuals who helped to make these sacred days so meaningful and filled with hope. … First, I know that you join me in offering words of deep appreciation to Father Jim Price, newly elected Provincial of the Passionist community of whom we are so proud, having been born and raised in the Diocese of Scranton in Carbondale and having served in a number of assignments locally. I bet you never realized all the good things that have come out of Carbondale – in addition to the alien spaceship that landed there fifty years ago! … Our gratitude is extended as well to Father Richard Burke, rector, and the priests and brothers of Saint Ann’s Monastery, to Father Jim Paisley, pastor of Saint Ann’s Parish, as well as to the parishioners, friends and benefactors Saint Ann’s for making this time of prayer and worship available to so many of us. … And on your behalf, I especially want to extend our thanks to Father Rick Frechette and Father Jack Conley for preaching this 102nd novena to Saint Ann. You have touched our community deeply with the witness of your lives and the words of faith and challenge that you have shared. Thank you!
We don’t often have the opportunity to hear a gospel like the one that was just proclaimed as we bring this solemn Novena to Saint Ann to a close. While we’re celebrating the Memorial Mass for Saints Ann and Joachim as we do every year on July 26th, the readings this evening come from those of Sunday, of the 17th Week in Ordinary Time. Yet, the message of the Word of God this evening, especially our gospel, are quite providential as we bring these nine days of prayer and preaching to a close, aren’t they?
In the 13th chapter of Saint Matthew’s gospel that we hear today, two short parables are shared. The parable of the buried treasure and the parable of the pearl of great value. In these parables, for as disarmingly simple as they are in their substance, we discover lessons that teach us not only about life but about authentic discipleship and what it means to live as a Christian – a true follower of Jesus.
The gospel reminds us that the “treasures” and “pearls” of God are not found in the things of this world that we so often pursue – the things that we can buy, build, or broker. The gospel implies that we can become so obsessed with creating a lifestyle that we can often fail to embrace the real treasures of life and faith, can’t we?
For Jesus, those treasures, the pearls – the values – that he invites us to pursue, are less tangible and much less measurable than the many passing values established by our world. They are, however, far more substantive in the impact that they have on our lives and in our hearts.
You know those values well. For as much as we struggle to find our way, your presence on this hillside for the past nine days is a powerful sign to our complicated world about where we are willing to invest our lives. And that investment is not made in a place or thing but a person: the person of Jesus Christ.
And what are the treasures that Jesus sets before us? You’ve heard of them all week from the wisdom and faith shared by Father Rick and Father Jack. They’re rooted in the very pattern of his own life: love – selfless love that seeks the well-being of the object of our love as Jesus loved us from the cross, … justice – rooted in the recognition that every life has value and is deserving of respect and dignity, … mercy – that grows through forgiveness and reconciliation, … faithfulness – a trust in God that enables us to seek God’s ways rather than our own, … gratitude – for the blessings of life root in simple treasures, … and peace – the ability to be calm in our hearts through faith, despite the noise and confusion that surrounds us.
Make no mistake, brothers and sisters, there is risk involved in pursuing the treasures that Jesus sets before us. The risk most often involves setting aside our own interests, comfort, ambitions and agendas. The risk can also hurt. It can put us at odds with those we love and respect. It can lead to misunderstanding and confusion for others. But in the end, Jesus’ treasures are the only ones that can provide us with a life of meaning, purpose and peace. It is as simple as that!
Today, as we bring this solemn novena to Saint Ann to a close, we do so on a day set aside by the Church as the World Day of Prayer for Grandparents and the Elderly. Pope Francis established this day in 2021 and directed that it be celebrated on the fourth Sunday of July, closest to the feast day of the grandparents of Jesus, Saints Joachim and Ann. The Holy Father’s intent was to honor grandparents and older adults, to acknowledge the depth of their wisdom and faith, and to celebrate the bond between generations.
I suspect that you would all agree that those whom we honor this day, far from being a burden in any way as our world might suggest, have much to teach us about the values of the gospel upon which we have just reflected for the past few moments – if we are willing to open our hearts to listen to their words.
In reflecting upon today’s gospel and this unique celebration of faith, I couldn’t help but think of my own grandmother who passed from this world 54 years ago on this very day – the feast day of Saint Ann. As I have often shared, my grandmother was an immigrant from Poland who set foot on the shores of this great land in 1912. Like so many of our parents and grandparents, my grandmother along with my grandfather, buoyed by their faith, gave their lives for the sake of their family. My grandfather worked in the mines and my grandmother raised ten children. While they had very little in terms of material wealth and the values that the world set before to pursue, they understood the things that were most important in life – the values that Jesus sets before us – the blessings of faith and family – of forgiveness and love.
It’s funny how we remember certain moments in our lives. I recall like it was yesterday words that my grandmother shared the day before she passed. My uncles helped her walk from her bedroom into the kitchen so that she could look out into the yard and garden that she so dearly loved one last time. As her children and many of her grandchildren gathered around her, for as weak as she was, we heard her share these words clearly and distinctly, “I’m so happy! I’m so happy!” She knew well that her journey was coming to an end. But she was happy and blessed! Her family was together. Her faith was strong. And the bond of love that she sought to plant in her children had born fruit.
Those were the values that brought my grandmother happiness – the treasures – the pearl of great price – that she pursued as she prepared to leave this world and pass over to the next. And those are the same values – indeed, the only values – that will bring us peace throughout our journey of life and at its end.
Brothers and sisters, as we bring these days of prayer during this annual Novena to Saint Ann to a close, may our hearts be filled with gratitude to God – gratitude for prayers answered – gratitude for the blessings of one another in whom God is present and through whom God works so mightily – and gratitude for the wisdom and courage to pursue life’s greatest treasures, found nowhere else but in Jesus and in the Kingdom he has established within our hearts. Amen!
HOMILY
Mass of Remembrance – July 23, 2026
Isaiah 61:1-3,6,8-9; 2 Corinthians 1:1-7; John 14:1-6
Just two days ago, I returned from Spain where I participated in a life-long desire that I was finally able to achieve at age 70! I walked a small portion of the Camino de Santiago, the pilgrim’s path to the shrine of Saint James the Apostle located in the town of Santiago de Compostela. Faithful souls have embraced this journey for well over a thousand years.
While the Camino began as a spiritual undertaking – and still is for most participants – people walk it for all sorts of reasons. Some still engage it as a prayerful, sacrificial experience – some as a time to reflect upon life and the beauty of creation – others to discern what God might be asking of them – and for many, the Camino is simply a time to remember – to remember loved ones who have passed, just as we do this night.
I can’t begin to tell you the number of people whom we met along the way who were only too eager to speak about their loved ones who had passed and for whom they are walking and praying. And something else struck me as we walked through villages and towns in northwestern Spain. The cemeteries that circled most churches were remarkable for the care that was provided not by groundskeepers but quite obviously by family members and loved ones. While we decorate graves at certain times of the year, most every grave that we encountered displayed beautiful, fresh flowers, presumably for most of the summer months and beyond. In fact, if you followed my journey on Facebook, you would have seen that I posted pictures of one cemetery where we encountered an elderly woman walking among the graves to care for the flowers, to water them and to replace those that had withered with new flowers that she carried.
From watching that elderly woman and from reflecting upon words shared by so many pilgrims on the Camino who were walking in memory of loved ones who had passed, something struck me that you may already know. While life goes on – even when the unthinkable occurs with the loss of someone we love – there is always time to pray and remember.
Life does indeed go on when we lose those we love, but it is never the same, is it? Life goes on and is bearable because of that which motivates our presence in this cathedral tonight. And it goes on, whether we realize it or not, because of our faith in Jesus, who, like so many of you carried a cross, suffered and overcame death through the power and grace of God.
Every time we gather to celebrate the Eucharist, we confront two great realities within our lives. We confront the brokenness of the human condition and the immeasurable mercy and love of God. These two great realities, experienced particularly in this Mass of Remembrance, create a bit of a tension, don’t they? The tension that I refer to isn’t rooted in stress or the daily pressures of work or family life. It’s related far more to the struggle that we have as we seek to balance the reality of grief, loss, and death, on one hand, and the hope that is ours through faith on the other hand.
We are all here today because we have faced the worst that life can offer. But we are also here today because we believe that the mystery of our faith – grounded in the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus – can and does speak to the brokenness of our lives and enables our lives to “go on” with a certain sense of hope and even, at times, a peace that we can neither explain nor justify in the face of our loss.
The scripture passages proclaimed this evening, each in their own way, speak to our lives, don’t they? Isaiah announces a year of favor from the Lord “to comfort all who mourn.” Jesus, in the gospel message from Saint John promises to all believers the gift of his peace – so “do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”
But it is Saint Paul’s’ message from his Second Letter to the Corinthians that speaks most clearly to the reality of our celebration. In just a few verses, Paul speaks of the Lord’s comfort, encouragement and consolation no less than ten times. Paul is able to offer consolation to the Corinthians because of the very consolation with which he himself is consoled by God in the midst of his own struggles and pain. And Paul reminds all of us that when consolation is granted to us, there is an expectation placed upon us. We who experience God’s consolation, in turn, are called to extend such consolation, healing and comfort to others.
Too much to expect of us? Don’t be so sure. For isn’t it so often the case that those people who touch us the most in our suffering and grief are often individuals who have experienced significant loss in their own lives. … They are so often people who have received the consolation of the Lord on their own journeys of life, but who have chosen not to wallow in self-pity. No, they understand the blessing that comes from sharing the consolation that they have received with others. … They are people who have and continue to allow themselves to be instruments of the Lord’s peace, even as they struggle to find it more fully within their own hearts. … They are people who understand the words of Saint Paul: “those who have received the Lord’s consolation, in turn, encourage those who are afflicted.”
Not long ago, the Vatican reported that our Holy Father, Pope Leo, received a letter from a man named Francesco, a father of four, who wrote to the Holy Father about the death of his 12-year-old son, Domenico, from a sudden illness eighteen years ago. Despite the time that has passed, the father – like so many of us who gather this night in our cathedral – said he still felt like his son’s premature death happened only yesterday.
“Holiness, this letter of mine is intended only as a thought, as well as a remembrance for our son, so that God, in his infinite goodness and mercy as a Father, may welcome him into the kingdom of heaven.”
In his response, Pope Leo reminded the father that “the important thing is to always remain connected to the Lord, going through the greatest pain with the help of His Grace, which always comes — even in the darkest moments.” The Pope recalled the light of the love of God, who walks with us throughout our life, starting at our Baptism, and went on to share with the young boy’s grieving father, “Remember, because of this love, death never has the last word! The last word, which opens the doors to eternity and joy that lasts forever, is the resurrection, which knows no discouragement or pain.” The Holy Father concluded his words about the man’s son, who was a soccer player at the time of his death, with these thoughts, “Continue to remember your son, even after all these years. Prayer for him always. For authentic prayer creates bonds and unites us forever, with bonds that go far beyond death.”
Brothers and sisters, we all bring sadness and pain to this moment. And yet, our presence here tonight affirms the fact that life goes on. … Life goes on through the supportive presence of countless numbers of individuals whom God has given to us and whom we, in turn, are privileged to serve in and through our own grief. … Life goes on through the blessing of our faith which, even when questioned at times during our struggles, provides us with the pathway to God’s loving presence. … And life goes on because of Jesus and the power of his suffering, death and resurrection, through which we remember and keep alive all those relationships with loved ones who have passed from this world to the next.
Previous Homilies 2026
Wedding Anniversary Mass June 28, 2026
Ordination to the Priesthood June 27, 2026
Catholic Women’s Conference June 6, 2026
Mother’s Day Adoption Mass May 10, 2026
Day of Atonement and Healing April 9, 2026
2026 Lenten Deanery Holy Hour “Finding Peace in Challenging Times”
Solemnity of Saint Joseph March 19, 2026
Saint Patrick’s Parade Day Mass March 14, 2026
Rite of Election February 22, 2026
Ash Wednesday February 18, 2026
Disabilities Mass –5th Sunday in Ordinary Time February 8, 2026