STATEMENT OF ARCHBISHOP NELSON J. PÉREZ REGARDING THE DEATH OF POPE FRANCIS

STATEMENT OF

ARCHBISHOP NELSON J. PÉREZ
REGARDING THE DEATH OF POPE FRANCIS

Along with the people of the Church of Philadelphia and the entire Universal Church, I was deeply saddened to learn of the death of Pope Francis today.

In the midst of great sorrow, we also reflect on the gifts of the Holy Father’s life and ministry with deep gratitude. He tirelessly served the Church for 56 years with great fidelity and zeal. As a Jesuit priest, university professor, local provincial superior, Archbishop of Buenos Aires, a member of the College of Cardinals, and Supreme Pontiff he exhibited selfless dedication on behalf of the souls entrusted to his care.

A man of prayer and intellect with a strong devotion to the Blessed Mother, Pope Francis entrusted the faithful to the mercy of Almighty God. He encouraged everyone to be an instrument of Christ’s compassionate love by extending a kind and merciful hand to the marginalized and those most in need. 

He challenged the Catholic Church throughout the world to respond to increasingly troubled times through genuine Christian encounter with the spirit of Missionary Discipleship. As a proponent of the synodal process, Pope Francis urged all Catholics to walk with one another on their faith journey with minds and hearts open to the movement of the Holy Spirit. His rich pastoral legacy is a blessing that leaves an indelible and profoundly positive mark on the life of the Church around the world.

Pope Francis will always hold a special place in the heart of the Philadelphia region. His visit to our city almost a decade ago for the World Meeting of Families—Philadelphia 2015 brought us immeasurable joy. That moment in time remains a precious gift that will not be forgotten. 

From his many apostolic visits around the globe to be among his flock, to his inspiring teachings, to his consistent call for peace and social justice, Pope Francis invited all people to encounter the person of Jesus Christ fully and to serve their brothers and sisters with love and humility as instruments of grace. The life and Petrine Ministry of Pope Francis was a true blessing to the world. May his example bring us to embrace God’s plan for each of us to serve Christ’s Church on earth as Missionary Disciples.

I ask the people of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia to join me in offering prayers for the happy repose of Pope Francis’ soul. May God grant him the gift of eternal life and bring comfort to a Church in mourning.

Easter Sunday [04-20-25]

The Easter Vigil was well under way that year.  Everyone had “settled-in” for the beautiful, retreat-like, and (as every Catholic knows) longer-than-usual “Mother of all Vigils.”  The Easter Fire had been ignited and blessed.  This Transformative Flame scatters the Darkness of Evil as it burns and brightens.  The new Paschal Candle was now bearing this Light as it pierced the darkness of the church.  Taper candles were lighted.  Although all of us, now, literally held the New Easter Fire in our hands, it was hearts that burned.  The Exsultet was sung dramatically.  Tapers were then extinguished as the Mass continued with the Readings and the Psalms; the Gloria and the Gospel; the bells that were rung and the Baptisms that were taking place that year.  Finally, the time came for all present – including my Aunt Rita – to renew one’s own Baptismal Promises.  Taper candles were carefully re-ignited by young Altar Servers and then, the Easter Fire, once again, burned and spread.  It was quite the sight to behold.  Caught up in the moment, suddenly there was a shuffle and scuffle.  Something was amiss.  A gasp!  A shout!  Heads turning!  In that moment, a quick thinking and fast acting young resident priest sprang from the Altar grabbing a basin containing some of the Newly Blessed Baptismal Water that was to be used for sprinkling all present and running down the aisle, the priest now turned fireman, doused Aunt Rita, her burning missalette, and a few of the terrified Faithful who had the misfortune of being positioned near-by.  The Pastor, meanwhile, barely broke stride.  Obviously, he was a seasoned priest and a veteran pastor.  There’s a phrase for it in Pastoral Theology:  Stuff happens.  Keep going.  He was well aware that priests might be seen wearing very traditional birettas, very modern baseball caps, or yes, even firefighter helmets.  I have a whole assortment of hats and caps in my closet.  Aunt Rita, for her part, was mortified, yet relieved that neither she, nor anyone else, had to be taken to the emergency room!  Father Pastor was just glad that he didn’t have to take out his insurance adjustor cap and he permanently placed good Aunt Rita on the “taper-ban” list.  She humbly complied.  Though Aunt Rita never held the Easter Fire again in her hands, it was already long burning in her heart and it was this Flame that would continue to spread.  Missalettes were no longer set ablaze, but people standing nearby were still in “danger.”  I know one young man who stood too close, too often.  He got “burned” and that Flame would change him forever.  He would go on to spread that same Flame setting Fires anew – a pyromaniac of sorts of the clerical order.  If nothing else this Easter, pray that hearts might be set aflame:  yours, mine, and those around you.   Pray that the Easter Fire; the Fire of Faith spread anew in a world so flooded and drowning in Darkness.  Jesus died and rose from the dead for you, for me, and for Aunt Rita.  He comes anew each day in the Burning Flames of Easter and He wants us to set the whole world ablaze!  Just spare the missalettes!  Happy Easter!

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

Palm Sunday [04-13-25]

I’m not sure if it was the silence.  Perhaps, it was simply the stillness.  It was a Holy Spirit moment for sure.  There is a memory that stands out for me particularly this week.  It was an event that affected me and would ultimately change me.  If the word holy can be taken to mean different or set-apart, then this week certainly is Holy.  All the liturgies, especially those of the Sacred Triduum are different.  From the Washing of Feet to the Veneration of the Cross, they unfold unlike “ordinary” liturgical celebrations, though I would argue that no liturgical celebration is ever “ordinary.”  Bread and wine transformed; God made present is anything but “ordinary.”  It was a Good Friday Service that so affected me many years ago.  That affect still remains with me – every year.  On one particular Good Friday, when I was much younger and well before I was ordained, I was in attendance at my parish.  I was seated on the end or near the end of the pew, because on this day I had a clear vision of the sanctuary.  There was no big person blocking my view.  There were three priests that lived at the parish at the time and all three priests were present.  Mass, of course, would usually begin with singing or announcements – not that day.  In fact, it would not even be a Mass celebrated, but simply a “service.”  The three priests processed down the aisle in utter silence.  And there was silence.  In that moment no babies were crying and there were no children ornery.  I could actually hear the vestments as the priests walked by and felt a breeze as they did so.  Eyes were fixed upon the silent priests clothed in red.  Then it happened.  All three prostrated themselves in the sanctuary – before the tabernacle; before the altar; before the crucifix on the wall; before all the people gathered – in utter silence.  It was an act of submission and obedience and humility.  To me at that time so long ago, this act of prostration seemed rather long.  The silence was deafening during this pregnant pause and as the priests lay there a thought entered my mind.  Perhaps, it was more of a feeling.  I wanted to lie there with them.  I wonder if Dennis ever had this feeling.  I’ll have to ask him.  Or maybe you can too.  Dennis Morales is a young man and an active member of Saint Aloysius Parish.  He might be seen working in the sacristy or serving as an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion.  As we now enter this most “different” week of our Church Year, it is with much pride and great pleasure that I can announce that Dennis has been officially accepted as a seminarian at Saint Charles Borromeo Seminary to begin study for priesthood for the Archdiocese.  Way to go, Dennis!!  I’m so proud of you and happy for you as is Fr. Wesly!  I’m rather certain that my pride and happiness will be shared by all of our parishioners at Saint Al’s and our friends at Saint Gabe’s as well!  I look forward to celebrating with you and supporting you as you begin a most wonderful journey as, I’m sure, do all of our parishioners and friends at both parishes.  Know that you are in our prayers!  I also very much look forward to that day when – God willing – you too, humbly lie prostrate in the sanctuary before the altar in an utter and profound silence as one of His priests!  Congratulations! 

Peace!

Fr. Wilson      

5th Sunday of Lent [04-06-25]

Maybe, for just one day, I would like to be a bus driver.  In particular, I think that I might like to be a tour bus driver.  Noah is now behind us. The bus was filled with happy travelers off to see its performance on the stage at Sight & Sound Theatre in Amish Country.  The story of Noah is known…the story of the bus drivers not so much.  I had the opportunity to speak with two of them for a bit.  One was from Virginia, he was preparing for his three and a half hour journey back with his group of Japanese tourists.  He was looking forward to his dinner stop and praising ever delicious Amish style chicken while licking his lips.  Our own bus driver, Kerwin, was a nice fellow and thoughtful enough to take the back roads on a most beautiful, sunny day.  The Amish and Mennonite folks were out and about with their horses and buggies as well as their “scooter” bikes.  Passing by a school at recess, we saw some boys playing while donned in their black garb and wearing straw hats.  The lay of the land just looks different when looking down upon it from a tour bus.  What a quaint little town, I thought as we made our way back to home and church.  Then, there is the tour bus, itself.  It was new – less than a year old.  The ten year-old boy in me was excited.  I was impressed by its size, but even more so, at the driver’s compartment.  It looked like an airplane cockpit with all kinds of buttons and screens.  Could there have been a monitor for altitude as well?  How cool to be a bus driver!  Traveling highways and back roads; going distances long and short; meeting all kinds of folks from all over the country and the world!  As we begin to round out our Lenten Journey this year, perhaps it’s true to say that we’re all like bus drivers – and it’s all about the Journey.  Who have you met along the way?  And did you notice the beautiful countryside?  It not, well, the trip’s not quite over!  There’s still time!  It is all about the Journey – and all of us are on it!  The return home will be that much more joyful when we’ve relished the road trip along the way noticing the beauty of the countryside of our Church and our Faith while taking the time to banter with our fellow travelers and bus drivers too, all the while looking forward to that most delicious Banquet Dinner to come and licking our lips in anticipation!  Noah was great!  The Journey was even better!  Enjoy your Trip!

                                                                        Peace!

                                                                        Fr. Wilson       

4th Sunday of Lent [03/30/25]

It was late and this little guy was already in bed when his father awakened him.  “What?”  “Huh?”  I had been fast asleep.  “I want you to see this,” he said.  He plopped me down on the bed in front of the little black and white TV in my parent’s bedroom.  My mother was there too, in her night robe.  “Here, look at this,” my father said.  “This is history.”  All I know is that I was tired, but my dad wouldn’t let me sleep.  “This is history,” he repeated pointing at the TV.  “Remember this.”  On the screen was a grainy picture of a little space ship.  Soon, a suited spaceman emerged and a voice scratchy, distant, and somewhat hard to understand was heard:  “This is one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind.”  My father’s eyes were red as were mine, but his red eyes weren’t from being tired.  My father was always fascinated with space and space travel.  As a boy, he must have fallen asleep dreaming about it influenced by the likes of Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells.  My father was right.  It was a historic moment and I would forever remember.  We have now become somewhat more accustomed to space exploration, since that summer of 1969.   There followed other Apollo missions, Skylab, the Space Shuttle era, the International Space Station, and any number of various space probes.  My father was always keenly interested.  Although we have already seen images of the planet of Mars and its surface, each new mission brings with it new information and increases our experience.  The goal is a manned mission to Mars, perhaps as soon as 2030.  Astronauts are already beginning to train.  A man named Musk has certainly expressed interest.  The exhibit on prepping for manned Martian flights that I saw a number of years ago at the Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral was quite interesting.  The film, The Martian, with Matt Damon was well done and portrays much of the technology that will be needed to reach the Red Planet.  Space exploration has been in the mind of man since time immemorial.  It might be likened to our annual Lenten “exploration.”  As space exploration has taken place incrementally with our first having had to imagine it with the help of Flash and Buck, so too perhaps, concerning the vast recesses of Lent.  For many of us, it is as if we are still looking through our telescope with comic book in hand.  Our goal needs to be great and grand.  It might very well seem impossible and for those who say that it can’t be done - it is impossible! However, the word, “impossible” has no place in Christianity.  How wonderful it will be witnessing a man or woman set foot on the Red Planet for the first time as we watch history unfold in color on our HD, 4K, or Hologram TVs of the future.  It will be far more wonderful still, when after having explored the vast recesses of Lent little by little over the years our epic journey arrives finally at a place called Resurrection!  Let the countdown to liftoff begin…

Peace!

Fr. Wilson      

3rd Sunday of Lent [03-23-25]

I really enjoyed First Grade – for exactly one day.  Then, I decided:  Enough of that!  Though my stomach ailment was actually a ruse, my mother bought it for one day (Good!).  On day two, she became suspicious (Uh, oh!).  On day three, my father went into work late (Oh, no!).  Backed into a corner and cowering behind a large chair, he stood over me and barked “YOU ARE GOING TO SCHOOL!”  Clearly I had no choice.  The battle was lost, but far from it the war.  In defeat, I cried out, “I surrender, I surrender!”  And I really did surrender – and have ever since.  The First Grade dungeon door swung open and there stood Sr. Rita Bernard in the full, black, SSJ regalia of the time.  She seemed to me a cross between the Wicked Witch and Dracula.  With her steely, reptilian eyes in her “nunish” voice and with the most rigid face this side of a Szondi Test, she said, “Good Morning, Eugene!”  (Oooo, I just got a chill.)  Then, she glared at my father and said without ever moving her lips, “I’ll take him from here.”  Her claws latched into my shoulder blade and tore me away from my father’s grip.  Years later my father told me that he felt so sorry for me (Gee whiz, thanks Dad!).  Into the lair I went and though a little boy was defeated that day, his spirit was not.  I somehow knew already in First Grade that it was all about conformity.  Learn the rules.  Learn reading.  Learn writing.  Learn arithmetic.  Be a productive member of society.  Grow-up, find a job, find a suitable partner, reproduce, and finally, after wrapping it up on the back nine, turn out the lights and call it a day.  I wanted none of it!  I wanted to be free - to play all day; explore ant hills; play with my Hot Wheels and Tonka Trucks, and tear up and down the block on my Big Wheel!  I wanted that freedom then, and I still do!  Though not a basketball player, I became good at hoops - and jumping through them.  And I was good – a good boy; a good student, and a “good egg” one might say.  It was all a rebel ruse, because within lay an insurrectionist awaiting his moment.  Little did I know at the time, that my First Grade teacher, Sr. Dracula, was schooling me not in the conformity of simply learning the rules, but in the rebellion that foments when one begins to question why we have rules to begin with!  What I didn’t know at the time was that Sister was a rebel, herself – and I was her star pupil!  She was schooling me in the Art of Rebellion, which begins with knowing the rules and the reasons for the rules and then, turning them all upside down!  I mean what else would lead a young woman to give up family and friends and having her own children in order to wear a full black regalia on a warm day in September in a stuffy basement classroom full of 42 or so, six year old urchins?  Sr. Rita was a rebel.  She was nurturing the rebel in me and I didn’t even know it at the time.  How cool is that?  In my school of non-conformity, I learned about Jesus.  I learned about His turning everything on its head.  I learned about His being accused of insurrection and rebellion.  I learned about His rejecting the world and its rules for a Rule far greater.  I learned that Jesus was a rebel – and I couldn’t resist His rebel yell.  If you listen closely and perceptively, maybe you’ll hear it too.  Many years later, as I prepared for my own revolutionary moment of entering the seminary, I received a most beautiful letter in the mail.  It was from Sr. Rita Bernard – the Rebel.  She was so pleased and happy!  She assured me of her prayers as the fight for the Rebel Cause would continue.  Yes, I am a rebel at heart – as was Sr. Rita, because Jesus, Himself, is.  What about you?  Join the Good Fight!  Rebel!

In Memoriam – Sister Mary Catherine Walton, SSJ. (aka Sister Rita Bernard)

May 11, 1937-March 10, 2025

Peace! 

Fr. Wilson                                               

2nd Sunday of Lent [03-16-25]

There is a friend of mine that regularly attends Mass.  Our birthdays are near one another, though I’ll have to wait awhile before we might ever go out to share a celebratory drink at some local watering hole.  My friend is just a wee bit younger than me.  In fact, although he will only be celebrating his first birthday in June, he’s already made quite the impression at church – especially with the ladies!  Henry’s quite the ladies’ man alright!  He’s also quite the man of Faith…already!  Often attending weekday Mass with his mother, he usually makes his presence known.  He likes to pray out loud using words known but to him and God.  However, no one complains at all and Father often finds himself suppressing a grin.  Henry even often comes to adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  Receiving a blessing from the Lord, Himself, is truly great.  Receiving a big smile from Henry afterwards makes that Divine Blessing even more divine.  Henry, along with his mother and father, are setting a beautiful example for all of us.  Perhaps, little Henry can help all of us set a tone for our Lenten Journey as well.  First of all, it’s never too early to sow Seeds of Faith (nor is it ever too late, by the way!).  We might consider where we need to sow some Seeds this Lent.  Maybe Seeds might need to be sown within as we participate in some of our Lenten activities or devotions here at Saint Al’s or Saint Gabe’s.  Perhaps some Seeds need to be scattered among our family or friends.  Little Henry at his young age is now already familiar with the sights, sounds, and even the smell of Mass - the singing and the music; the different liturgical colors of altar and tapestries along with the vestments of both priest and deacon; then there’s the smell of Benediction with the aromatic incense that wafts and billows through the air.  It’s rather interesting that even though some might get sleepy during Mass, young Henry is usually wide awake.  I suppose that’s because he’s already familiar with the Rhythm of the Mass.  There’s a Lenten question that each one of us can ask ourselves.  Am I attuned to the Rhythm of the Mass such that my Faith is invigorated as by a beautiful song and I’m prepared to sing the Song of a Sower?  All of us this Lent should strive to go before Our Lord in all childlike innocence – much like Henry, looking forward to the greetings shining forth from all those familiar faces after Mass and in the end looking forward to that True Celebratory Birthday Drink – the One had with Our Lord, Himself together with all the Saints!  Here’s to you, Henry!  Cheers, my friend! 

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

Father Wilson's Pastor's Corner - 8th Sunday in Ordinary Time [03-02-25]

As I write this, Pope Francis remains in the hospital and people throughout the world are praying for him.  One of the things that I will always remember about Pope Francis, aside from his visit to Philadelphia in 2015, is a devotion that he introduced.  Francis undertook some studies for a time in Germany.  While there, he had an opportunity to visit Augsburg.  In one of the churches, he encountered a painting of the Blessed Mother in which she was enveloped by a rope with knots in it.  He learned of a local devotion bringing it to Argentina when he returned there and to the world’s attention when he became Pope.  The Blessed Mother as Our Lady, Undoer of Knots, can and certainly will intercede for us as we make effort to untie the various “knots” that we inevitably experience in our lives.  These can be “knots” of anger or lust or impatience.  One might have “spiritual knots” such as dryness in prayers or a listless Faith.  Perhaps one’s “knots” might be a physical ailment of some sort.  I actually had an opportunity myself to see that painting in Augsburg and the image has always stuck with me.  All of us have our own “knots” and Mary certainly can help us to untie them.  A friend of mine also recently gave insight to undoing knots and helped me to untie one quite literally.  A drawstring on a pair of sweatpants was so tightly knotted that I simply couldn’t undo it.  I tried and I tried, but the darn thing wouldn’t give.  Without the drawstring, my old, comfy sweats would be useless to me since they would fall to the floor from around my waist.  My friend told me to try a hammer.  Huh?  He said that he had seen some YouTube short or Tik-Toc video where impossible knots could be “tamed” and made manageable by giving them a pounding with a hammer.  Are you serious?  He said that he, himself, had never tried it, but hey, it couldn’t hurt.  It might even work.  I set my knotted sweats on the floor and gave a little pounding with my old, trusty hammer.  Well, guess what!  Voila!  It does indeed work!  The slight tapping of a hammer loosened the tightly wound knot and enabled me to undo it!  This had me thinking that this might be a very good tip for our upcoming Season of Lent.  Next time that I’m in Augsburg, I’ll have to take a closer look at that painting of Our Lady, Undoer of Knots.  I’ll have to see if she’s wielding a hammer!  Although we may not see it in her hands, there is a hammer that Our Lady bears.  It is actually the Hammer of her Son – the Hammer of the Cross.  It is this Hammer that ultimately loosens all “knots” enabling them to be undone.  As we soon begin the Season of Lent and seek to untie our various “knots,” remember the devotion proclaimed by the Pope.  Remember to turn to Our Lady Undoer of Knots and take the Hammer of the Cross in hand in order to loosen the “knots” making an “old pair of sweats” like new! 

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time [02-09-25]

It seems Punxsutawney Phil was correct.  Don’t put away your winter coats just yet!  I hope that he’s right about his prediction of an Eagles’ win as well!  His cousin, Gus, of Pennsylvania Lottery fame is in total agreement.  The ‘hogs will be tailgating with a couple of close friends while watching the Big Game at Gobbler’s Knob on Phil’s new 75-inch crystal UHD flat screen.  Nice!  An Eagles’ win would certainly give Phil, Gus, and all of us a nice warm and fuzzy feeling on the inside, even if on the outside and outdoors, in particular, the feeling is quite the opposite!  There’s a possibility of snow in the forecast again and that ole Polar Vortex is supposed to be dipping down into the Lower 48 again before we get to the end of the month.  Brrrrr!  Gee whiz!  Spring can’t get here soon enough!  Well, with colder weather come higher costs.  This is true for parishes, schools – and even groundhogs!  Thermostats have to be turned up and the snow outside the den needs to be plowed.  Higher costs have been on my mind of late.  Think of this like a thirty second Super Bowl ad.  Just as the cost of living has gone up for everyone – from groceries to insurance and from healthcare to heating bills – so too have costs gone up for parishes and parish schools.  A parishioner recently said, Father, you have to ask for it…it being $$$.  Perhaps that’s true.  At any rate, parishioners should be aware that costs have risen.  If it’s within your means to make an increase in your parish offering and/or make a contribution to the Annual Fund Appeal for Saint Aloysius School, I ask most humbly that you please consider doing so.  It sure would help in continuing the good work that we do as a Community of Faith!  I remember an uncle of mine who would jokingly refer to me as Father Get-the-Money.  This began right after my ordination which he attended.  I didn’t really like that title then and I still don’t.  I think that it had more to do with his general impression of a priest/pastor as someone who always seemed to be asking for money.  What’s interesting is that my uncle, himself, was a most generous man who responded to parish needs and certainly was most generous in helping and encouraging a newly ordained priest.  I suppose that I’d rather be known not as Father Get-the-Money, but as Father Got-the-Money because he inspired a generosity of spirit in the parishioners that he shepherded and to whom he ministered.  Thank you in advance for all that you do and contribute to our parish communities and school!  Bundle up!  Stay warm!  Keep on scratchin’!  And please be generous together with our groundhog friends in cheering our Philadelphia Eagles on to victory!   

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

Presentation of the Lord Sunday {02-02-25]

Good Morning and Happy Catholic Schools Week!  Crickets!  So again…Good Morning and Happy CSW!  There followed a somewhat lame and subdued response.  Man, oh man!  I kinda thought that my eight hundred or so teenager friends would be more responsive at Mass.  I mean, c’mon!  They were getting out of class and would have shortened classes the rest of the day.  The response at the beginning of Mass should have been:  Good Morning, Father and thank you!  Right?  But alas, I had a large number of tired, moody, and mopey teenagers in front of me.  My homiletic endeavor was strained.  References to the Eagles, Elgses, or Iggles…however we spell or pronounce our beloved team name now…got me nowhere.  Father was bombing.  Throw him a lifeline!  Even my creative redefining of a parable being akin to the Philly Tush-Push or Brotherly Shove** got perhaps merely a chuckle or two with most of those teen eyes staring blankly off into space.  What gives?  As Mass continued, the Lord gave answer.  It was, in fact, the Philly Tush-Push of the previous evening and the Brotherly Shove still lacking on that particular morning that were to blame.  They were tired.  They were all tired – including faculty and administration.  Everyone had watched the big game.  The Birds are goin’ to the Super Bowl baby!  The teens probably had mom or dad dragging them out of bed in the morning and many probably hadn’t eaten yet.  Lunch was still two or three periods away.  Ag…o…ny!   After Mass, as I spoke with and called out various students for being dead-to-the-world at Mass, they confessed their dire straits.  I discovered that they were actually listening at Mass, but that they simply weren’t responding.  One student actually recounted something that I said that struck him.  Wow!  Miracles do happen!  I told him that he made my day, especially after he informed me that he and his girlfriend like to talk about things they read in Scripture.  My goodness gracious!  Maybe this whole Catholic Education thing actually does work!  Our Lord certainly had similar experiences – as do all good Christians working diligently and creatively to proclaim the Faith.  If I recall correctly, Jesus, for the most part, bombed on the “stage” of His own hometown when He returned there and there was another time when some folks were ready to throw Him off the “stage” of a cliff!  Such things can sometimes happen to us with family or friends or maybe even on a high school stage before some early Monday morning zombified students.  Such times became part and parcel of the story of Our Lord.  Such times became a part of the Proclamation.  As was true for Our Lord, so is true for us.  The key is to stay in the game, keep the ball in play, and never give up.  That’s when we rally the team on the goal line giving a grace-filled Brotherly Shove breaking the plane, scoring the touchdown, and winning the really big game of bringing others to the Faith.  See you at the tailgate party!    

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

**The Divine Tush-Push or Brotherly Shove of a parable is a story told meant to make one think and get over the “goal line” of a deeper Faith

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time [01-26-25]

He has aged a bit.  I guess the Big Apple will do that to you.  And he was definitely thinner.  I don’t think that it was just a forgiving camera angle.  Monday’s inauguration was certainly most interesting.  Presidential inaugurations always are with all the speeches and all the politicos and political wannabe’s in the limelight.  The individual that caught my attention at the ceremony’s start at noon wasn’t any president current, outgoing, or former, but rather a man of the cloth.  It was the Archbishop of New York that delivered the initial opening invocation.  He was followed immediately by Reverend Franklin Graham, son of the famous preacher.  Timothy Dolan has been the Cardinal Archbishop of New York since 2009.  I remember sitting with him and our former Archbishop, Charles Chaput, when the Cardinal was the guest speaker at our priest convocation about ten years ago or so.  I remember Cardinal Dolan as a big man both in size and personality.  He shared with us all how he simply liked to eat and loved a good meal.  He, himself, would joke about his size and never having to shop for clothes in the “petite” section.  He is the type of man who causes all heads to turn when he walks into a room.  I recall how we spoke at the table that day about a movie that was out at the time.  Both archbishops had seen it and Archbishop Chaput remarked that it was one of the best movies that he had seen in its portrayal of priesthood.  The Cardinal agreed.  If you’ve never seen the movie, Calvary, I recommend it – though it’s not for children.  At the convocation, I don’t remember the Cardinal’s words spoken to us in his talks, but I do remember his presence, his demeanor, and his friendly greeting to me when I passed him several times in the hallway those couple of days away.  At the inauguration, Cardinal Dolan confidently strode up to the podium and began his prayer.  Quoting scripture, he said, Be still and know that I am God!  Then, he referenced Washington, Lincoln, Patton, and MLK in their own prayers – that need be ours.  I noticed that the Cardinal Archbishop kept looking skyward.  He wasn’t looking at the Capitol dome, he was looking beyond it.  He was looking up to the Almighty Himself.  I know at times during the celebration of Mass, I look skyward also and look not at the church ceiling, but beyond.  I believe that all of us need to be able to look beyond at times; to look to the heavens and to look into Heaven, Itself.  I can picture the Lord, Himself, looking heavenward and looking homeward when He so often went off by Himself to pray.  Take time today and everyday to look to Heaven.  Prayerfully look towards our Home and begin to see God, Himself, inaugurating a new time of Hope!                    

Peace!

          Fr. Wilson

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time [01-19-25]

One cannot underestimate the power of “no.”  This is the power we have to make a choice.  On the one hand, it is rather very simple, yet on the other hand, it can be oh so difficult in the face of some temptation, habit, or addiction.  Perhaps there is a need to pray more for the power of “no.”  Such has been, at times, the advice that I’ve given concerning the discipline of saying “no.” Upon further reflection however, I have discovered that indeed there need be something more; that there must be something more than simply “no.”  Before one can say “no” in the face of some temptation, it is necessary and essential that one say “yes.”  Before one can truly say “no” to the Evil One, one must truly say “yes” to Our Lord.  Otherwise that “no” will be senseless and will wind up being just a matter of suppressing and jamming thoughts and feelings into a steam pipe within.  That steam pipe will likely at least leak a bit at times, or if tightly sealed, will one day burst spectacularly with unfortunate effect.  A daily “yes” transforms us along with thoughts and feelings such that nothing need be suppressed; such that nothing can be.  Our daily “yes” must consist of grasping the Cross and looking upon Our Lord – Suffering, Risen, and All-Powerful.  Our “yes” must consist of a daily invitation inviting Him into our lives, our hopes, and our dreams.  It must consist of a daily invitation into our everyday activities, routines, studies, and work.  Though we have now once again entered into Ordinary Time, there is nothing ordinary about being a Christian.  Before any of us can say “no” to that which we want to change about ourselves or rid ourselves of, we must say “yes” daily to that most extraordinary vocation to which we are called – being Christian.      

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

Baptism of the Lord Sunday [01/12/25]

Hey guys!  I suppose that it kinda began this way.  One day, one guy simply spoke to another guy.  The first guy had an idea and thought that the second guy might be interested.  The guys’ conversation probably went something like this:  Hey guy!  Would you be interested in starting a business?  Hey, that’s a great idea, guy!  Count me in!  How about we, guys, open a variety store?  It’d sort of be like a supersize “five and ten.”  Of course, the gals would be invited too.  Cool guy!  What will we call the store, guy?  Thus, began Two Guys variety store.  If you’re old enough, you might remember Two Guys.  The store existed in the days well before Target and Walmart.  Amazon and online shopping wasn’t even a thought in anyone’s head.  Two Guys was actually founded in the NYC metro area in 1946 and years later would expand reaching over into PA.  I can remember making pilgrimage there as a youngster.  My mother certainly liked to shop, but she didn’t drive.  That task fell to my father.  Dutiful and loving husband that he was, our shopping excursions often happened on Saturdays.  The closest Two Guys to us was in the Horsham-Warminster-Willow Grove area.  If I recall, it was located about the area where 611 crosses the Turnpike.  Our northern journey on 611 seemed like it was  a hundred miles from home for a little guy.  After we arrived, whoever had “serious” shopping to do, left me in the charge of the other.  While my mother shopped for house wares, I was with my father.  When he was in need of a new shirt, I was with my mother.  For some reason, I always seemed to get lost and distracted in the toy section of the store.  Of course, the sporting goods section also held my attention.  That’s where I usually spent time with my father when he had charge of me.  The return trip home was always great because I always had something new (toy, shirt, jacket, ball, or perhaps some candy) and we’d stop for lunch on the drive home.  Those were great times; simpler times.  It was wonderful family time for a little guy at Two Guys.  Of course, times change and Two Guys has gone the way of so many other stores that once were, but no longer are.  I suppose that in some ways the Church is like a variety store.  There is oh so much available if one considers languages, customs, cultures, Traditions, and Her various Rites.  It is well worth the “drive” to get there!  We can “shop” with a limitless credit card on which the “bill” has already been paid.  In a certain sense, I wonder if our Church founded by Christ, could be said to have been started by two guys.  Just as the two guys of Two Guys, didn’t found “variety stores,” so the two guys in our Church didn’t found “Church.”  In both situations though, two guys did expand and expound on that which had already been founded.  But unlike Herbert and Sidney Hubschman of Two Guys, whose store went out of business, Ss. Peter and Paul have a “store” whose doors are guaranteed to never shutter.  The weekend is here.  It’s time for a little family time and time for a little excursion.  The Church founded by Christ and started by two guys is open for business.  See you there!  And hey guy, look for me in the toy aisle!        

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

Epiphany of the Lord [01/05/25]

My father’s step-father was a huckster.  I have a very vague recollection of him, since I was so young when he died.  I most certainly remember the truck though.  You know boys and trucks!  My dad had responsibility for it briefly prior to its being sold.  It was a drab green old Chevy panel van circa 1955 or so.  It had, in this little guy’s opinion, a really huge shift lever!  It was literally a long stick with a black knob atop it.  Even my father, who drove and commanded a tank in the army, seemed to have trouble shifting this old van from one gear to another.  My step-grandfather needed this van to do his huckstering.  Oftentimes when we think of hucksters today, we think of those infomercials and the guy selling that new, must-have, versatile, never-before-seen kitchen gadget that will make your life so, so, so much easier.  It may even foster world peace.  So, buy two!  Pop-pop George’s huckstering was of a different sort.  He sold fresh fruits and vegetables at a very modest and attractive price with the convenience of coming right to you in your neighborhood.  Sales were good.  I believe that my father thought briefly about continuing the business, but it simply wasn’t his calling.  George’s customers were sad at his loss and the loss of their locally delivered farm fresh fare.  Hucksters generally get a bad rap, but that was not the case for Pop-pop who was simply an honest man making an honest living while providing a good and needed service honestly.  Perhaps, it could be said that Jesus, Himself, was simply a very honest and honorable huckster providing a much-needed service to say the least.  Wow!  Jesus, the Huckster!  Talk about an Epiphany!  All He and His motley crew of twelve would have needed was an old beat-up, Chevy panel van circa 1955.  And I’m rather certain that Jesus would have been able to drive the old manual stick-shift with ease.  One big difference though is that Jesus wasn’t selling His fine fare even at a discount.  He was giving it away.  He still is.  All that’s required on our part is that we bring a large brown bag – just like the ones in which the Magi brought their gifts – and go out to meet this Happy Huckster when He comes to our neighborhood.  He’ll fill your bag and mine with all kinds of wonderful and nutritious fare beyond imagining and if you’re lucky, He may even give you a spin around the block in His truck!  Listen.  I think I hear His truck outside now.  It’s time to meet, greet, and get to know this Happy and Heavenly Huckster, Who doesn’t sell anything at all, but rather gives it all away!  

Peace!

Fr.. Wilson

Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph [12/29/24]

Many thought that it might be The End.  Computers would fail.  Planes would fall from the sky.  There would be ensuing chaos and confusion accompanied by terror and violence.  It seemed that it would likely be the time for the Lord to finally appear in all His Glory.  All would gaze in awe and many would tremble in fear as a New Jerusalem descended from the Heavens.  I remember attending a midnight prayer service at the seminary.  It was voluntary, but I thought that hey if it really is The End, then what better place to be.  Well, twenty-five years later - here we are looking up at the sky not beholding our Universal King, but swarms of drones mysteriously flying about as a whole world seems to be revolving upon the axis of an upcoming inauguration.  No one is talking about “The End” at the moment, but there is talk of “Jubilee.”  The New Year is traditionally a time of celebration, hope, and promise.  It is a traditional milestone and marker in the life of individuals and peoples.  It is a time of resolution renewed determination.  This New Year is, on the one hand, no different than any other.  Yet on the other, because of the inherent fact that it is “new” – it is indeed different from all others that have been and those that will yet be.  Hence, this New Year of Jubilee is unique.  There will never be another 2025.  The uniqueness of this New Year is in a Jubilee celebrated by the Universal Church.  It is the 2,025th anniversary of the Incarnation of Our Lord.  The Holy Father has declared this a Jubilee Year with a central theme of Hope, so that this year might be for all a moment of genuine, personal encounter with the Lord Jesus, the “door” (cf. Jn 10:7.9) of our salvation, whom the Church is charged to proclaim always, everywhere and to all as “our hope” (1 Tim 1:1) (from the Papal Bull of Indiction).  In the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, this New Year means a more intense focus on Missionary Outreach and planning for our future as God’s People in the Delaware Valley Area.  The Archbishop will soon issue a Pastoral Letter inviting all of us to consider and re-consider our roles as Missionary Disciples preparing and praying for a future filled with hope and new opportunities to encounter Christ.  I, too, celebrate a milestone of sorts in this New Year with a Jubilee of my own.  Well, not really my own, but one which I share with all of you.  Priesthood is never a one-man journey and is not celebrated in isolation.  Too many beautiful individuals living and quite a number already gone home to God give testimony to that.  This Jubilee may find me with some friends celebrating atop a mountain in a lovely little chapel named after our own dear archdiocesan patron or it might even find me for a time on the Dark Continent making some new friends.  Wherever it takes me, I will be encountering Christ anew, because that’s what a Jubilee is all about – whether that Jubilee is universal, local, or very personal.  That’s what Jubilee Year –yours and mine – is all about as together we, perhaps, bang some pots (it’s a Philly thing!), make some noise, watch a ball drop in Times Square or a Peep in Bethlehem, give a loved one a little smooch, and celebrate with Hope the New Year of 2025.  May yours be blessed and may you this New Year especially, encounter Christ anew!      

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

4th Sunday of Advent/Christmas [12-22-24]

Most folks have their favorite.  As our celebration of Christmas is now imminent, many find themselves humming them.  They may have even become like earworms at this point – but that’s okay.  I believe that it’s important to have a song on our lips and in our hearts at Christmas. The hard part is carrying that song with us throughout the New Year beyond December 25th.  One of my favorite Christmas songs is probably not even on the list for most folks.  Favorite Christmas songs and hymns can transport us back to happy childhood Christmas memories of long ago as well as renew our hope for the future that we see in the children and young people of today.  One of my favorites is a Perry Como song.  I discovered it on an album that my parents had.  That album was a soundtrack of a movie – The Odessa Files.  This movie was a thriller released in 1974 based on a novel by the same name.  I would have been a bit young for it at the time and maybe my parents went to go see it on one of those Friday nights when my grandfather was babysitting yours truly.  Actually, I don’t ever recall seeing it myself.  Maybe I should try to find it online and watch it one night over the holidays.  It is the song, Christmas Dream that brings back so many memories for me.  I remember it being this time of year and sitting on the floor of our little dining room where the stereo was of which my father was so proud.  It was kind of a large floor model that he purchased from a co-worker.  I remember holding the album cover and listening to the song again and again.  The words spoke to me.  There was a stanza sung in German by a children’s choir.  It reminded me of my heritage and always made me think of family and friends overseas.  One verse always had me thinking of Our Lord.  It didn’t reference the events of Incarnation and Christmas, but that of the other great mystery that we celebrate in the spring. Du stirbst um zu leben und nimmst um zu geben.  You die in order to live and take in order to give.  Christmas Dream had me dreaming.  It had me dreaming of Christmas Day and Santa and presents.  It had me dreaming of snow and sledding and days off school.  It had me dreaming of my future and making time and taking time for all kinds of things that I wanted to do and see.  It had me thinking about what dying to live and taking to give really meant.  It filled me with hope and with happiness.  It still does.  I suppose that’s why it’s one of my favorites and why I still dream my Christmas dream.  Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones – and sweet dreams this Christmas and beyond! 

Peace!

                                                            Fr. Wilson

3rd Sunday of Advent -Guadete Sunday [12-15-24]

Don’t put your glass there!  What?!?  That’s not a coaster!  I must admit.  I’ve only relatively recently discovered Qi (pronounced “chee”).  No, it’s not a card game.  Qi is currently the industry standard for wireless charging otherwise known as inductive charging.  It uses electromagnetic induction to provide electricity to portable devices without the need of cables or plugs.  I guess that I had heard of it, but I was at a friend’s house inadvertently attempting to destroy his wireless charging pad with my cold, sweaty glass containing a most lovely adult beverage, when I really discovered Qi.  He explained how his cell phone had wireless charging capability.  I thought that was great and I wished that my phone had that.  “It probably does,” he said.  “What model phone do you have?”  I had recently gotten a new used phone out of necessity, the old one having made impact with the driveway while getting out of the car.  It shattered and had to be laid to rest.  My friend invited me to place my phone on his “coaster.”  Like magic, it began to charge! Voila!  It was a “chee” moment for me for sure!  I gotta get one of these.  It was just a “cheapy” one from some left-over stock that Best Buys wanted to clear – but it worked.  In fact, it was cheap enough that I bought two.  They’re still working fine and I no longer have to plug my phone in for a charge.  Unlike me, most folks were probably well aware of wireless charging technology and making use of it well before me – especially younger folks.  However, most folks are probably unaware – especially younger folks – that the Church has already had this technology for centuries.  On this Third Sunday known as Gaudete (Rejoice) as we continue our Advent Journey, we may feel at this point, that our batteries need a bit of recharging.  There has simply been so much to do and there is still so much to be done before our celebration of Christmas.  We all have our “to do” list.  Our Advent Journey, like any journey, can be draining.  We need a moment to recharge.  This is where the centuries old Church’s Qi comes into play.  Coming before the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament has long been the Church’s technology of inductive charging.  Eucharistic Adoration recharges our Spiritual Batteries.  When the hustle and bustle of the holiday season begins to drain us, it time for us to rest upon the Divine Charging Pad.  In fact, don’t let the batteries get too low – or you might miss making or receiving an important SMS advising of a Child to be born in Bethlehem!  This Advent and beyond take time and make time to recharge your batteries.  Make use of the Qi technology that Mother Church has had for centuries and feel the current of the Most Holy One recharging you and giving strength to continue and complete the Advent Journey enabling a fully charged Christmas celebration!  

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

2nd Sunday of Advent [12-08-24]

For better or for worse, I’ve never been one to rush.  I guess it’s not in my nature.  I’m not sure why.  Generally, as most know, I’m almost never early for anything.  I prefer at least “to try” to be on time.  My own father used to say, “You’ll be late for your own funeral.”  I’m rather certain that I will be.  Sorry, Dad!  I remember going to a party.  My father, Teddy (my “adopted” mom), and I would attend.  I was the one “dragging my feet” and running late.  Teddy, however, was apparently in no hurry either.  My father grew increasingly antsy to the point that he was “beside himself.”  I got the blame.  We left the house late for the surprise party.  My father muttered the whole time.  We would ruin the birthday surprise for my cousin.  He stammered as he insisted that I walk through the door of the legion hall first, since I was the reason that we were late.  “Dragging my feet” once again and futzing, he finally went in first with a huff.  The shock was a bit overwhelming for him.  Family and friends, including my cousin, were all already there.  They were all looking at my father as they screamed, “Surprise!”  He was confused momentarily; then moved to joyful tears.  The party was for him on his retirement.  He was indeed surprised.  The rush was over.  Actually, there was no reason to rush at all.  He later apologized to us for what he had said and how he had acted.  It was truly a surprise slowly had.  It is already the Second Sunday of Advent.  Christmas will soon be here and there is a rush to complete all the “necessary” tasks of shopping, wrapping, baking, caroling, decorating, etc.  There simply doesn’t seem to be enough time to finish everything before that O Most Holy Night.  It can all be so overwhelming.  Ours is a world always in a rush.  Route 422 gives evidence of that.  Jesus, Himself, it would seem was never in a rush.  He was never hurried.  If anything, there was comment made because He was late.  Lord, if only You would have been here, my brother would not have died.  For One Who is Lord of all time, there is never any need to rush.  In fact, for such a One, there is no such thing.  Despite death, Lazarus would be gifted with Life.  This is the Christmas gift that Jesus is preparing for each one of us, but such a gift, it would seem, takes a bit of good old earthly time.  It began nine months ago with a Child conceived in a womb.  It continues as a woman will give birth on a rather Silent Night.  Next will follow three years of teaching and preaching – an “illumination” one might say.  Finally, it will culminate after three days of unbearable agony.  It is then that all supposed “rushing” will be over.  In the end, it is you and I that will walk through the door as the Lord, Himself, shouts, “Surprise!”  In the meantime, slow down and enjoy this Advent moment!

Peace!

Fr. Wilson

1st Sunday of Advent [12-01-24]

There were several ashtrays made, even though no one smoked.  I suppose that’s because they were relatively easy for a little artiste to fashion.  When I was a youngster in early grade school, a ceramic shop opened for business just around the corner.  My buddy Joey and I had great fun working on our pottery skills.  Our mothers first took us into the store in order to encourage their sons’ creativity with a new hobby.  Besides, crafting some pottery would hopefully help to keep said sons out of trouble following the broken window incident.  Gosh, it was just an accident!  We were given a few lessons in how the pottery itself was made.  Generally, molds were used to shape clay into various objects such as the aforementioned ashtrays.  However, we also witnessed the marvel of a potter’s wheel.  Soft, moist clay would be hand fashioned into round objects and various implements could be used to enhance the final design.  If a mistake was made, the moist clay could just be refashioned and one could start over.  Unfortunately, pottery wheels and young boys don’t mix very well.  To this day, I don’t know how the clay got into my hair and ears.  Of course, the clay projectiles Joey and I hurled at each other didn’t help.  Our pottery wheel days were short lived.  Instead, we opted for objects already fashioned from molds.  These were plates or figurines that first needed to be carefully smoothed of rough edges.  This was also the time to make etchings into the object, such as a name or date or Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!  Then, it would be time for the initial low temperature firing of the clay known as candling.  This would be followed by a higher temperature firing know as bisque firing.  Several days later, we would retrieve our work from the shop carefully trekking it home where the painting would begin.  Glaze firing was the final step in the process and thereafter one could enjoy some hot chocolate in a brand-new homemade mug.  Those were fun times.  My favorite piece was the little snowman which I still have.  Working with clay is as old as humanity itself mere “earthen vessels” that we are.  Although my experience with the potter’s wheel was short lived, its affect was not.  Seeing and feeling that clay in my hands helped me to understand how God’s “hands” form and re-form us.  As we begin Advent and a new Liturgical Year, we have an opportunity to allow the Potter to re-shape us or simply smooth out some rough edges.  If we make an effort to truly enter into this most holy season, then surely, we will even begin to feel those Sacred Hands forming and shaping us anew as we await a Savior’s birth while beginning the celebration a yearlong Jubilee.  Have a most blessed Advent Season, but beware!  You might just wind-up getting a bit of clay in your hair and in your ears!                 

Peace!

       Fr. Wilson

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time [11-10-24]

Votes have been cast.  A decision has been rendered.  Yes, there was a presidential election this past week, but there has been other voting taking place as well.  There always has been.  There always will be.  Elections, as we’re well aware, can be quite contentious both for the candidates running and the electorate standing often in rather long lines.  I remember a time of election concerning myself.  I’ve never had a desire to run for any office, but in the seminary, nonetheless, my “hat” was thrown into the ring.  Every year in formation at Overbrook, we voted for class representatives.  That of “spiritual life” fell unto yours truly.  The position involved regular meetings with the Spiritual Director of the Seminary and planning various spiritual activities for the class.  Activities included class Holy Hours and communal rosaries prayed.  I held this position every year except for one.  One year, Shane, my classmate from the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City, won the election.  My Philly classmates were aghast.  Who was the Judas among us?  We held the majority!  Maybe the election was rigged!  He was almost apologetic for winning.  We had some rather “interesting,” to say the least, spiritual activities that year coordinated by Shane, whose personality matched his physique.  They breed’ em BIG in Oklahoma, we used to say.  My Philly classmates vowed that such a “fluke” election would never happen again.  It never did.  Fr. Shane, on his part, is now doing some “spiritual coordinating” from above.  Sadly, his priestly ministry on earth was rather short, but I know that he definitely made a rather large Oklahoma impact during it – and I miss him.  We all do.  There is some other voting, other than presidential, that has taken place more recently too.  It took place not on the first Tuesday of November, but on the last Saturday of October.  This is the day that the Synod of the Church ended in Rome.  Voting took place among those representing dioceses throughout the world.  Every paragraph of the 151 page final document was voted upon. There was surprisingly very little dissent in the voting and the whole Synod ended, in the words of one commentator, “with a whimper.”  No radical agenda came forth as some had feared.  Perhaps, that’s the big story here.  The Church is still one.  After perhaps the biggest survey in all time among people throughout the whole world from different countries, cultures, and ethnicities – the Holy Roman Catholic Church remains united as One in Christ.  Wow!  That’s a miracle in itself!  The Pope, himself, has commented that it was not really about the results, but rather, about the process.  It was about the undertaking and engagement of a synodal process of consultation in our modern world of differing opinions and objectives that can be recorded and transmitted instantaneously worldwide because of 21st Century technology.  Maybe the Synod was most fundamentally about a Church of the 21st Century exercising its 1st Century Mandate in a 21st Century world.  Yes, the formal Synod may have now ended, but the “process” and the “voting” will most certainly continue.  Elections have always taken place.  The first disciples, themselves, voted.  Jesus didn’t call an election.  He was the Election.  Offering an invitation, ballots were then cast.  This is the voting that still takes place today.  Every day disciples make a choice.  We either cast our vote for Jesus or we cast it against Him.  He said this Himself at a campaign rally long ago.  There is no sitting out this election so important for our future in this life and beyond.  Election Day is nigh.  There is only one question on this most important ballot.  Are you ready to make your choice – and cast your vote?   

 Peace!

       Fr. Wilson