October 4, 2026, at Saint Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Isaiah 5: 1-7 + Psalm 80 + Philippians 4: 6-9 + Matthew 21: 33-43

We have to face a big challenge with this parable. It is so steeped in cultural images of the time that reaching in to hear or learn what Jesus is saying to us today is not easy. This parable assumes slavery. It treats violence as though it were an every-day experience. We are an urban people who have little to no experience with tenant farming. As a result, we get content to simply sit back and think that this is just an old story about those by-gone days and think that the Pharisees deserve what they get. We have to realize that Jesus is speaking about us and look beyond the images of this parable to get into the message.

To those addressed by this parable, Jesus is leading a reform movement, and they will not grant him any divine authority. Because of his reforming ideas, their very way of life, their income, safety, and privilege is threatened. So, the issue here is not the landowner. Even though we might make the connection between what the tenants do to the Son and the death of Christ, it is not about him either. It is about the attitude and behavior of those tenants. When first spoken the tenants were the Pharisees. When spoken today, the tenants are you and me.

Jesus first spoke this parable in the Temple. Today he speaks in this Church. He speaks to anyone who is satisfied with the way things are in this world, who are comfortable and secure. He speaks again to anyone who will not listen to the challenges of the Gospel ignoring the authority of the Word of God when it calls into question laws, policies, programs, economics, and any system that excludes the vulnerable and powerless.

When we let this Gospel speak today, judgement is passed on leadership. When it comes to that judgement, perhaps the fault lies not entirely with the tenants, but with a leadership that allows the fruits of this vineyard to be hoarded by some while others starve outside the walls.

In the end, after some serious reflection on our own openness and willingness to examine our participation in this scene, there stands the owner of this vineyard. What strange behavior there is here. He keeps sending servant after servant, when one after the other comes back bruised and broken, or not at all. Who is this? Only someone with unquenchable hope and almost unthinkable mercy. Surely judgment will come one day; but mercy hopes beyond hope for change.

  September 27, 2026, at Saint Peter and Saint William Churches in Naples, FL

Ezekiel 18: 25-28 + Psalm 25 + Philippians 2: 1-11 + Matthew 21: 28-32

There are two very important words that all of us use several times every day. They are small words, but a lot hangs on them. I don’t think I am exaggerating if I would say our lives could be summed up in terms of those two words. Many of your lives right now have been shaped and lived because of them. Two words: Yes and No.

Some of you once asked another this question, and the answer changed your lives: “Will you marry me?” Earlier in our lives there was another question the answer of which changed your lives: “Do you wish to be Baptized?” A Bishop said to me: “Do you wish to be ordained?” When you stop to think about it, I think the power of those two little words is amazing. Of course, it is not exactly the words themselves but the spirit in which they are spoken that makes the difference. They can be said lightly without sincerity, or thoughtfully and with deep sincerity. Nonetheless, the words spoken are only the beginning. What matters is whether or not they are acted upon.

This story we just heard, has a parent asking a child to go to work in the family vineyard, and like most children, the first word they seem to learn comes out of that child’s mouth: “No.” Any of us could fill the rest of that conversation. If you can’t, you have never had any children. You know how it probably continued: “Why does it always have to be me?” or “Can’t you get someone else?” Now, Maybe he had plans for the day. It’s possible he’s just lazy, but it is early in the morning, and a lot can happen between morning and evening. My guess is that perhaps those plans changed, or maybe that “Yes” was just moving around in his head, and finally he decided to change his mind and go even though it was late in the day.

Then there is the other one. Not willing to risk displeasing the father he said “Yes” but didn’t go. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he just put it off to get some other things done first. Perhaps he just thought they could manage without him. Yet, the day wore on and he never got there.

Jesus spoke these words in the Temple to the Scribes and Pharisees in front of Tax Collectors and Sinners, because the first group never backed up what they said with action. Today, Jesus has a question that needs a yes or no answer. There is a part of both sons in all of us. Part of the second son because our performance does not always match or promise. We give our word, but do not keep it. There is a part of the other son too because can turn the No into a Yes.

We shall be judged, not by a single act or stage in life, but by our whole life. Many great saints in the history of the church were sinners who at first said “No” to God and then changed their minds and said “Yes.” The great gift of freedom that God has given us allows us all to say “Yes” or “No,” but words are no substitute for deeds.

Since this parable then was first addressed to the Pharisees, it is now addressed to us, good people like them who have said “Yes” to the Lord. Yet, there is a question still needing a “Yes” or “No”. “Do our deeds match our words?”

September 20, 2026, at St. William, St.Agnes, and St. Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Isaiah 55: 6-9 + Psalm 145 + Philippians 1: 20-24, 27 + Matthew 20: 1-16

It is easy to convince ourselves that after keeping the rules, saying our prayers, being faithful and nice we have fabricated for ourselves a great reward, leaving us to assume that what God in God’s goodness has given us, is something we have earned. It isn’t until we see God’s goodness to others, especially to those we don’t like, that we can begin to see the goodness of God for the wonderful miracle that it is, and that goodness is what is revealed with these verses of Matthew’s Gospel.

This story can easily disturb and distract us with questions over what is fair or what is just. When that happens, we miss the real issue at the heart of the story. In a world of competition that has winners and losers, where score keeping and ranking is how we measure who or what is best, this Gospel message is bewildering. While the behavior of the vineyard owner is the focus for Jesus revealing that goodness of God, we can’t help but notice the behavior of those who worked through the day. I have always wondered why they could not imitate the generosity of the owner by taking the whole crew out for dinner. But no, they have to be watching what everyone else gets and deciding that there is something unfair about getting what they agreed to. In our system, they should probably get a bonus, but they don’t.

We hear this story and cringe at what it says about God, and we might feel ashamed at what it says about us because we carry around notions of what is fair and what is not, and this story offends most of those notions. It is easy to agree that the owner can run his business the way he wants to, but his payroll policies make us uncomfortable. The question is greater than just about hours worked. It is something else entirely. If the owner is going to play favorites, we want to be the favored ones. If the owner is going to be generous, we want some of that generosity.

Jesus could have told this story differently with those hired first paid first, avoiding conflict. But he did not because he wanted those hired first to see something. The only way to really see the goodness of God is to see that goodness as it is given to others. The fact is, we are too wrapped up in our own skins, too bundled in our own needs to see truly what God gives us. Perhaps what we might see, sometimes to our shame, is that God treats us all the same, because in God’s eye, there are no favorites, and no one is the best. For what Jesus says to us today is that we are all equally loved by God, the good, the bad, the faithful, the unfaithful, the rich and the poor, the white and the brown, the straight and the gay, the sinner and the saint. Those grumblers speak the most important words of this Gospel when they say: “You have made them equal to us.” That is exactly what God has done.

September 13, 2026, at Saint Peter and Saint William Parishes in Naples, FL

Sirach 27: 30-28:9 + Psalm 103 + Romans 14: 7-9 + Matthew 18: 21-35

Followers of Jesus are to follow him, not admire him. Too many in this world fail to see a difference, and there are way too few followers while the number of admirers grows all the time. All you have to do is pay attention to many who are running for public office these days. They seem to have discovered that admiring Jesus Christ publicly will get them votes. Followers of Jesus organize their values around the values of Jesus: justice and peace. They judge what is good and right and what is evil and wrong according to the teachings of Jesus learned from what Jesus says as well as what Jesus does.

We pick up a parable today that reminds us that the Christian community is a community of the forgiven and forgiving. Peter’s question at the beginning locates this forgiveness in the family or the community when he says: “Lord, if my brother sins against me…” These debtors all seem to belong to the same household. If you remember, last week’s Gospel provided a three-step system for forgiveness. The last step was taking the matter to the community. Today we get a look at how that third step might work.

There has been a lot written on the subject of reconciliation. Once we thought the process began with the offender repenting of the offence and then asking or begging for forgiveness. We all know how that works. “Until they ask for forgiveness and admit that they were wrong, I’m not going to even think about forgiveness.” The frequent failure of that process has led to better thinking that is a lot more like the way God works. This new thinking suggests that reconciliation begins with the one offended offering forgiveness and that this willingness to forgive transforms one from being a victim to being a survivor. It is quite possible that such graciousness may touch the heart of the offender, who might also be transformed from offender to friend. Think about it. Which is better being a victim or a survivor. Which is better, being an offender or a friend. That’s what is at stake here.

It is difficult to forgive someone who has offended us. It may be that our honor is at stake or that our very person has been threatened. Deep feelings get involved. When we have been hurt, we want to inflict pain in return and even the score. Most people would not blame us for feeling like this. In fact, they would even encourage us in retaliation. However, retaliation is the way of the world and not the way of the Lord. What a horrible mess our lives would be if God chose to inflict revenge on us for our sin.

Peter wants to count how many times one offers forgiveness. His idea is like keeping score. You get just so many chances, and then you’re done. What Jesus teaches in response is that we learn to be more God-like when it comes to forgiveness. No score keeping, just divine generosity that heals and restores the human family to unity and peace with the hope that in God’s eyes we shall all be friends.

September 6, 2026, at Saint William and Saint Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Ezekiel 33: 7-9 + Psalm 95 + Romans 13: 8-10 + Matthew 18: 15-20

We are living through an age historians may call the age of blame or maybe the age of the victim. If anything happens that we don’t like, it is someone else’s fault, and we become the victim. The instruction given by Matthew today is to victims. His instruction is for the victim to take the initiative. Remember how it started: “If your brother sins against you.” There is no room in the teaching of Jesus or in the conduct of Christian life for sitting around, licking wounds, and crying: “Poor me.”

None of us can avoid being victims, but we can avoid the victim mentality and all the whining and complaining that goes with it. What is necessary is respect for the offender which is why the matter is first handled privately. There is no need to tell everyone how terrible that offender is, to shame them before everyone else. What Matthew goes on to suggest is that if the matter is not resolved privately, perhaps one or two others might help. At this point, it very possible that those others may see things a little differently than the victim. Sometimes it does take two to quarrel or to fight. There is always the possibility that the victim did or said something causing the offender to react. Notice that what seems to be required of everyone is the willingness and ability to listen.

When everything fails, there comes that suggestion from Matthew that those who refuse to listen should be treated as a Gentile or a tax collector which sounds at first like a suggestion to avoid or to shut out the other. However, we might want to remember that Jesus spent most of his time among the Gentiles. He visited them often, cared for them, and cured them. He ate in their homes and called one tax collector to be his disciple. So that suggestion does not propose a complete break or the final end of a relationship. Those words about binding or loosening are serious, and they should be heard as a warning not as a power to be used. This passage closes with the best suggestion of all, that we pray together. It raises the hope that old wounds can be healed, that offenses can be forgiven, and that victims and offenders may find themselves together with Jesus in the midst of them.

August 30, 2026, Saint William & Saint Peter Churches in Naples, FL

Jeremiah 20: 7-9 + Psalm 63 + Romans 12: 1-2 + Matthew 16: 21-27

The first part of this Gospel has us listening to what I think was a really a shouting match between Peter and Jesus. This is a pivotal moment for both of them. For Jesus, it’s time to move on and be the Messiah he now knows he must be to follow the Father’s will. For Peter, it is just opposite. Clinging to a mistaken expectation of what the Messiah will be like, he sounds like the voice of Satan who tempted Jesus in the wilderness. Jesus recognizes this for what it is, and he shuts Peter down as we hear the first prediction of the Passion. There will be two more.

The conflict between Peter and Jesus is really about the Will of God, and in the argument between the two of them, the meaning of “life” gets clarified. When Jesus says he “must” go to Jerusalem, he makes it his decision. It is not a fate that just happens because of his enemies. It is something that Jesus accepts to do. He has made God’s will his own. He sees that going to Jerusalem, suffering, and dying is good to do because of the resurrection. He tries to help his disciples perceive that going to Jerusalem, suffering and dying, despite its appearances is something they will want to pursue together with Jesus joining him in the path to the cross. Knowing that words are not enough, Jesus, as Matthew puts it, began to show it to his disciples.

As Jesus continues to persuade these reluctant disciples who are resisting God’s will, Jesus speaks of saving one’s life and losing it. Being unwilling to deny oneself and take up one’s cross reveals a misunderstanding of “life.” This passage is not about a cross in spite of how many people focus on that word over and over again. It is not an invitation to be miserable and smile. It is an invitation to think about the meaning of life. Jesus is not speaking of a life that involves accumulating goods and stuff for sustaining one’s life. That is thinking of life in the human realm, or from a human point of view. This is not the life Jesus leads us to. He speaks of a bigger, fuller, unending life.

Understanding that the Christ must suffer and die is the same as understanding that one’s life is not limited to what w e know on this earth. It must include life after death. This is why Christ can accept without anxiety the way of the cross. He trusts the Father who will raise him up to share in the Father’s glory. For those disciples which includes all of us, having a view of life that is not limited to the human realm involves not being anxious about life because of our trust in God and our choice to follow Jesus in the way he accepts the Will of God.

Losing oneself really means finding one’s true self, discovering, believing, and embracing who we really are, loved children of a merciful, life-giving God. To deny oneself is not a call to some kind of asceticism that might be harmful to one’s mental, physical, or spiritual health. It is really a call to affirm one’s gifts and graces, to rejoice at and rest peacefully in a relationship with Jesus that makes his will our will.

Choosing to be doers of God’s Word and not just “hearers” frees us to deny ourselves in the service of compassion and life in the Body of Christ. The way of the cross is unpredictable and sometimes frightening. Peter and his friends came to know this in ways that they had not planned for and could not have predicted. In naming for the first time what it meant to live into and participate in the body of Christ, Peter and the others show us what it means to live into the mystery of the Incarnation and discipleship.

August 23, 2026, at Saint William and Saint Peter Churches in Naples, Florida

Isaiah 22: 19-23 + Psalm 138 + Romans 11: 33-36 + Matthew 16: 13-20

There is something about the times in which we live that make it more and more difficult to know who we are, what the Church is, and for that matter, who Jesus Christ is. That “something” is the growing threat of individualism that began back in the 60s if my guess is right. The idea that any of us have an identity or can know who we are without standing in a relationship to someone else just plain strange. Think of it this way: you can’t really say that you are a Catholic without a Parish or a Community with which you celebrate Mass. If you think you can, your identity rests upon an idea not on something real. Religion is not a concept. It is a relationship.

This matter of identity is what is stirring through these verses of Matthew’s Gospel. Notice how Jesus asks the question twice: “Who do people say that I am” followed by “Who do you say that I am.” What the people say and think is not helpful because what they say is based on what he does, not really who he is. When it comes to that second question, something is different now because of the relationships with Peter and the other disciples.

Many scholars think that Jesus may have been relying on his community of disciples to help him understand and accept his messianic identity. He needed those who knew him best to clear up what he knew might be coming. I have been preaching on this Gospel for almost 60 years, and until this year, I never noticed that in the twenty times Matthew uses the word “Messiah,” Jesus never refers to himself as Messiah until after Peter’s declaration here.

Matthew is sharing with us a pivotal occasion in the lives of both Jesus and Peter. Each of them shares his insights with the other, affirms the other’s identity, and prepares the other for the ministry that lies ahead. Unfortunately for us, what happens next, we will not read here because of the way our readings skip around in Matthew’s Gospel. But, right after this exchange with Peter, Jesus takes him and three others up a high mountain where his Transfiguration takes place after which, he heads to Jerusalem for the culmination of his ministry. Shortly thereafter, come Pentecost, Peter matures and learns to preach and teach. What is happening here is that Peter and Jesus help each other assume their rightful identities. Leaving us to wonder and ask about our own.

What Jesus discovers is that he is not what he does. He is not a wonderworker, healer, or even just another prophet. He is the Son of God. What Peter discovers is that he is not just a fisherman who tags along with someone who raises his hopes for fame and success, but that he is the one upon whom the coming of the Kingdom through the Church will now depend.

What Matthew leaves us to consider today is whether or not we are more than what we do raising the question of our own identity and where it comes from. If Jesus can ask the question: “Who do you say that I am” maybe we should ask that question as well. The truth of our identity does not come from our jobs or where we live. It comes from Baptism, a Sacramental moment when we are brought into a relationship within the Church and with Jesus Christ. It is a life-long struggle to confirm and affirm that identity by which and through which we are members of Christ’s Body, the Church. Yet, we work at it. We are here. We stay here because this is where we are at our best and most true selves.

August 16, 2026, at Saint Peter the Apostle & Saint William Churchs in Naples, FL

Isaiah 56: 1, 6-7 + Psalm 67 + Romans 11: 13-15, 29-32 + Matthew 15: 21-28

If anyone here has not responded impatiently to an interruption when trying concentrate on something important, I want to know who you are, and I will see to it that the process for your canonization begins now. An interruption, that is what is going on here on the surface. Jesus and the disciples are out in foreign territory fairly far from home. This region called Tyre and Sidon is not particularly friendly. It is not Jewish territory. On top of that, nowhere did women approach and speak to men, especially foreign men. This setting is about interruptions and a lot more. With this story, Matthew raises a lot of questions we might ponder.

This woman is not one of the family. So, does she do without help until the family is taken care of? Does Jesus really believe that his mission is only to the “House of Israel?” Why does Matthew tell us that Jesus was silent at first? Is he trying to decide what to do? He has already scolded the Pharisees for excluding people. Then, how did she know Jesus and know that he would help her? You may have even more questions all of which can distract us from what is happening and what Matthew would say to us.

What happens here is that a silent Jesus reflects on his mission and in the face of this need changes his mind. I like to imagine that this woman is really God the Father interrupting Jesus who at first had a narrow sense of his mission opening it wider making it totally inclusive. What happens here for us is a chance to see how God can interrupt our busy lives and speak through encounters with strangers and in situations outside our comfort zone. Disciples of Jesus learn and grow when they brush up against people whose lives, needs, dreams, and struggles are different from their own.

In our deeply polarized society, people of different political views, economic conditions, ethnic backgrounds or religious convictions are demonized and dismissed. Matthew speaks to us about this. In a society like this, it is easy to decide who should be excluded from the circle of God’s love or our own. Yet no one can limit the grace of God.

With all of this in mind, we can’t leave these verses without some recognition of this mother’s passionate love for her sick child. She risks scorn and probably more for speaking up and begging. She comes before us like anyone in great need. Rather than sending them away, we must be one with them. This woman and everyone in need, longs for and hopes for advocates who will do something and say something to help. Advocacy is part of a Disciples’ role. We do bear one another’s burdens, feel and share the pain of those who are in distress, and while we join our prayers to theirs so that the Son of David will see our faith, we also join our voices to theirs so that one voice becomes many with the hope that through grace and faith we may hear those words that began this new creation: “Let it be done.”

August 9, 2026

I am on vacation this weekend away from Naples but offer these thoughts for those following.

First Kings 19: 11-13 + Psalm 85 + Romans 9: 1-5 + Matthew 14: 22-33

Like Matthew, both John’s Gospel and Mark join this story of Jesus walking on water to the feeding of the multitude. For the early church to which Matthew is writing, a church mostly of Jewish converts, the memory of Israel’s experience of the sea, wilderness, and the manna would be very much alive in their hearing of this story. The part about Peter and the ending with that sudden and extraordinary proclamation of faith is Mattew’s addition to this traditional story.

Often the Gospels report Jesus withdrawing from the demands around him to pray. What we may not have noticed is that these times often correspond to the disciples getting themselves into trouble. Last week we heard of Jesus withdrawing as the news about John the Baptist reached him. But before he can withdraw, he feeds the multitude and then sends the disciples off on their own finally getting some time to himself. A crisis erupts, and the disciples are in trouble without Jesus. They are really a mess when Jesus is gone, and so are we and our Church.  

The part about Peter speaks to all of us, I believe. Walking on the water is his idea. He thinks he can do it on his own, and we see what happens when any of us try to do something without Jesus. He is between faith and fear. He walks and he sinks. He trusts and then doubts. Don’t we all find ourselves going back and forth between trust and fear, faith and doubt? Yet, Jesus invites us to come to him, but when do and it gets a little stormy or rough, we wonder if we did the right thing, and we cry out: “Lord, save me.”  Fear is the danger here, and fear is very real.

Focusing on Jesus may not necessarily do anything to calm the storm. No amount of faith may end difficult times. No trust may calm the fears of anyone who comes to realize how vulnerable and fragile life is. No amount of prayer is guaranteed to calm the storms that sometimes rage in every one of our lives and homes.

Nevertheless, what Jesus said then, he says today: “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Even in the face of fear, we might all risk taking one more step to Jesus Christ. Without him we have very little to offer this world, while with him there is little else we need.

August 2, 2026

I am on vacation this weekend away from Naples but offer these thoughts for those following.

Isaiah 55: 1-3 + Psalm 145 + Romans 8: 35, 37-39 + Matthew 14: 13-21

One of the few stories recorded by all four Evangelists, this event in a deserted place is a treasure for us all. It happens in a lonely place that Jesus and the disciples reached by boat while the crowd made it on foot. It is no wonder they were tired and hungry. It is an act of compassion on a people who are away from home and without food.

The Matthew version we tell today differs a bit from all the others. Here, Jesus has just received word that John the Baptist is dead, and there is every reason to believe that Jesus needs to withdraw and grieve or reflect on what it means for him and his own future.

We are left to understand this event in two ways.

First, it is a lesson for the Church about compassion which must be accepted as obligatory for all who follow Jesus. The Church as an institution has more or less responded to this example not always sufficiently, but consistently. Yet, while there is power in the collective effort of the Church, that institutional effort easily becomes an excuse for doing nothing personally, and that will not do. We really may not say: “Let the Church take care of the hungry.” Notice that Jesus expects his disciples to do something personally. It’s not all up to him.

Second, there is a lesson here as we see this is a eucharistic story. In John’s telling of this story, that element is unmistakable. It is his intention. All the language is there: he blessed, broke, and gave.

We must not miss how the story ends. There is no mention of an amazed crowd as we find with other miracle stories. There is no comment about the fame of Jesus being spread about either. Most likely, this is because by the time this Gospel was put into writing this story had become completely common and known to all often being recited with the church gathered at the Lord’s table. It ought to still speak to us in the same way, and especially to those who are hungry and those who find themselves lonely and in a deserted place.