One of my professional side interests is ice breaker type conversations and activities. I’m not necessarily the best at them, but since there are many times when I have to get to know people quickly in semi-awkward situations, I definitely have my go-to tactics. One of my favorites is to propose a mundane category, come up with examples within that category, and then make a bracket to determine the best whatever it is you’re arguing about. Take chairs, for example. Rocking chairs are the best, and Adirondack chairs are the worst, hands down.The other chestnut I lean on is almost the opposite: come up with a list of things the group hates, and then fiercely debate on which one is the worst. If you don’t know the other people in the group beforehand, you certainly will afterwards.  Click on title for full column.

To be perfectly honest with all of you, the implementation of Beacons of Light has frequently put a spotlight on my inadequacies, at least for myself. I’m hopeful that most of you aren’t out there thinking about all the things I’m not great at, but I definitely find myself reflecting on them regularly. I’m sure that if the muckety-mucks in charge of all this were to read this they would feed me a line about how I’ll be fine, and I’ll get through it, and so on and so forth, but there’s times when I question whether or not I’m the man for the job. I bring this up not to go fishing for compliments and reassurance, but because I think there’s a powerful way that this connects to the lesson we learn from Our Lord in this week’s Gospel.  Click on title for full column.

It has become incredibly cliché to point out how polarized the society in which we live has become. Everyone has heard it a thousand times, and I certainly don’t mean to diminish it, because it’s true. But it would be a mistake to believe that this is the only time in human history that it has become more or less impossible for neighbors to function together. The Parable of the Good Samaritan that we hear today illustrates how the inability to look past our tribalism or biases stunts our capacity to live as Christians.   Click on title for full column.

Each of my assignments as a priest has come with apprehension, though somewhat different in how that nervousness bubbled up. When I was first assigned as a vicar at St. Ignatius, I had already moved my stuff out of the seminary to my home parish weeks earlier, and was chomping at the bit to get started. I had six weeks off to enjoy being a brand new priest and travel around to parishes where I had lived and say Masses all over creation. I hit the ground running, and life was the fun sort of chaotic. Becoming a pastor so quickly didn’t deter me too much, and even though my moving in process was stalled by preparing the rectory (and having my banjo stolen…) I was determined to do everything in my power to be absolutely everywhere in my three new parishes. I wanted people to get sick of seeing me, and then see me some more. I quickly started to run into the hard differences between being a vicar at one parish and being a pastor of three. It really took it out of me, and I wondered if I had what it takes. Click on title for full column.