Sermons

“The generous soul will be made rich, and he who waters will also be watered himself” (Pr. 11:25). As a young girl, St. Brigid was renown for generosity. Milk, butter, and meat flowed out of her home to every passing beggar. She gave with such enthusiasm, that it constantly irritated her father. Eventually, he had enough. It was time for her to marry. So he brought her to meet the King of Leinster. While the men negotiated, Brigid waited in the chariot, when along came a lepe

A stunning field of gravity holds the planets around the sun. Its magnetism is so colossal and irresistible that everything within eleven million miles is pulled into orbit. Jupiter, Venus, Earth, and even the smallest debris are brought into this cosmic dance with the sun in the center. What is prayer? The natural state of planets is to orbit around the sun. The natural state of humanity is to orbit around Christ, in our thoughts, will, heart, and being. This is the happine

“Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil” (Mat. 4:1). Why into the wilderness? In central Greece there is a place called Meteora, known for boulders that jut up into the air like natural columns or skyscrapers. At the peak of these columns, built into stone, are ancient Orthodox monasteries. One morning, after camping in the Meteora valley, I started my ascent up towards the monasteries. The sun was just beginning to rise when I heard a s

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” The man was blind. A thick blackness engulfed everything. His life was an endless reach, feeling, grasping for some comprehension of a world otherwise dark and empty. Then he heard it, a whisper maybe, a murmur in the crowd that Jesus was coming. If anyone could save him it was this man. So he called out. Immediately, the crowd pushed around him. “He shouted, ‘Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!’ Those who were in fr

“A new light…cocks were crowing, there was music of hounds, and horns; above all this ten thousand tongues of men and woodland angels and the wood itself sang. ‘It comes, it comes!’ they sang. ‘Sleepers awake! It comes, it comes, it comes.’ One dreadful glance over my shoulder I essayed – not long enough to see (or did I see?) the rim of the sunrise that shoots Time dead with golden arrows and puts to flight all phantasmal shapes. Screaming, I buried my face in the fold of my