Posts

Bishop Terry LaValley's Chrism Mass Homily 3/26/26

Image
 Throughout the Mediterranean region and ancient Palestine, oil was the symbol of vital strength. The fruit of the olive tree was really the basic food back then—perhaps even more than daily bread is for us today. At the same time, oil was also medicine—the medicine with which strength, rest, and peace were restored to the body. Athletes who entered the arena anointed their bodies with oil so that they would be soft, supple, strong, and lively—not dried out. As you know, a special feature of today’s Chrism Mass is the sign of oil. Christ means “the anointed one.” Oil has taken on a new meaning in the Christian sacraments. The sacraments remind us of the earthly life of Jesus, of the world out of which he steps to meet us. Our understanding of Christianity is this: the Christian is in a battle with Satan in our world. The anointing in Baptism suggests that the Christian is anointed by the Lord in order to enter the drama of history, prepared to battle the forces of evil. When we ...

Fifth Sunday of Lent 2026

Image
  In today’s Gospel, Martha says something that may be one of the most honest prayers in the entire Bible. When Jesus arrives after Lazarus has died, Martha says to Him: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” That line probably sounds familiar to many of us. It’s the kind of thing people say when they are grieving, when something painful has happened, when life has not unfolded the way they hoped. Lord, if you had been here… If you had been here, this illness would not have happened. If you had been here, my loved one would not have died. If you had been here, things would be different. But notice something important. Martha does not say these words behind Jesus’ back. She says them to Him . Her grief, her disappointment, even her confusion—she brings it directly to Christ. That’s an important lesson for us. Faith does not mean pretending everything is fine. Faith means bringing our pain honestly to God. But Martha doesn’t stop there. She continues: “But ev...

Fourth Sunday of Lent (Laetare Sunday) 2026

Image
  Last Sunday after Mass I went over to the parish breakfast at St. Augustine’s in Peru, NY.  I sat down at a table where a group from another parish had come to eat: an older married couple and two men who seemed to be either brothers or father and son. I happened to sit next to the younger man. His name was Cameron.  We started talking for a bit. As the conversation went on, I noticed that he seemed a little different—maybe a little socially awkward. Something about him seemed unusual, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. After a few minutes they got up to get their food, and I was left sitting with the woman at the table.  She leaned over and quietly said to me, “Those two men don’t have a lot of friends because of him. He is autistic. But he is a wonderful person. He is a child of God.” That stayed with me. When Cameron came back to the table, I made more of an effort to talk with him and make him feel welcome. But later I realized something. In that mome...

Third Sunday of Lent 2026

Image
  “I don’t like going to church because it’s filled with hypocrites.” That’s a line many people have heard over the years. And if we’re honest, it’s not entirely wrong. The church is filled with people who believe the Gospel, struggle to live it, fall short, and keep coming back anyway. But today’s Gospel invites a deeper question: why would that keep someone away from Jesus? The Samaritan woman at the well gives every reason to stay away. She has a reputation. She carries a complicated past. She comes to the well alone, at noon, in the heat of the day—almost certainly to avoid other people. Even the disciples are shocked to find Jesus speaking with her. Not because she is talking to him, but because he is talking to her . That reaction matters. It reveals something uncomfortable but very human. There are people who surprise us when they show up near Jesus. There are people whose presence in church still causes raised eyebrows. And yet, those are often the very people Jesus seems ...

Second Sunday of Lent 2026

Image
  Last week, many of us watched or read about a moment that felt almost too good to let go.  The U.S. men’s hockey team won Olympic gold for the first time in forty-six years. Overtime. Against Canada!  And the image that stayed with so many people was not polished or perfect.  It was player Jack Hughes—missing teeth, exhausted, laughing, barely able to speak—wrapped in the American flag and holding gold. It was the kind of moment people wanted to freeze in time. Replay it. Talk about it. Hold onto how it felt. Say, “This is one for the ages.” That instinct—to want to stay in a moment of joy, clarity, and victory—is deeply human.  And it is the same instinct Peter has in today’s Gospel. On the mountain, Peter finally sees clearly.  Jesus is transfigured before him. His face shines. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear.  Everything Peter has hoped and believed about Jesus is confirmed. And so he blurts out, “Lord, it is good that w...