The sad truth about the greatest gifts in our lives is that we rarely appreciate them until we lose them. Even if we are grateful for them while we have them, often we do not fully understand how much we’ll miss them until they are gone. I always loved my dad, and I knew I would miss him when he was gone. That said, I had no idea how much I would associate terrible jokes with his memory once he was no longer with us in this life. It is cliché to say, as the song does, “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone,” but it also seems that it’s almost impossible to know how much we’ll miss something until we carry that cross. Click title for full column.

In lieu of a regular column, this week I will be answering some frequently asked questions as we prepare for the resumption of public Masses on May 25. God bless you all, and stay safe! Prayers always, Fr. McC Click title for full column.

One of the innumerable benefits of the Catholic Church is the fact that due to its lengthy history, there is almost always an example or historical precedent that we can look back to for guidance when trouble rears its ugly head. Even now, as we navigate the choppy waters of a pandemic, we can look to the Church’s witness of how she led her people through plagues and other turmoil. St. Charles Borromeo and many other saints have shone like bright lights in how they cared for their people and were forgetful of themselves when things seemed darkest. Click title for full column.

The first part of the Gospel for this weekend is forever etched into my mind. While it is certainly a beautiful and meaningful passage, the reason why I have it memorized is not because of a particular sentimental attachment to it, but because it has become the de facto Gospel reading for the funerals I celebrate. I could recite the first six verses from memory, in a pinch. But rarely do I have the opportunity to see it put in its broader context, and it stirred up in my heart a reflection on friendship and human nature. Click on title for full column.

I have a contrarian streak in me that serves as a useful defense against advertising techniques. Even if I normally would want to enjoy a particular product, seeing it advertised or pushed on me makes me exponentially less likely to buy it. It is either an Irish thing, or an American thing, or maybe just a my mom’s side of the family thing, but I chafe when I sense people putting pressure on me to be a consumer. Click title for full column.