Christ the King: Creation, Redemption, and Majesty

Readings and Virtual Homily for November 23, 2025, Feast of Christ the King; Twelve Busy Sabbatical Days; California Dreaming; Late Additions to the Mass Schedule

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• 2 Samuel 5:1-3

• Psalm 122:1-5

• Colossians 1:12-20

• Luke 23:35-43

Dear Friends and Family:

Today is the Feast of Christ the King.  As I have observed often enough in the past, one of my favorite feast days of the year.  The day when we celebrate how all of creation comes together in the Kingship of Christ, God-made-man.  All of creation comes through the Second Person of the Trinity ("through him, all things were made”).  All of creation is rescued, redeemed, and not just restored but made new, through the Second Person of the Trinity incarnate, the man Jesus of Nazareth.

This stupendous reality hardly bears analysis, though of course, careers have been built, in its analysis; books written about it, professorships spent teaching it, the hearts, minds and souls of countless theologians and saints given over to its contemplation.  But truly, the reality we contemplate today is so vast, so majestic, so astonishing that I wonder what I might say here that could approach doing it justice.

Of course I have given homilies on this feast day; have done so since late November, 2006, a brand new priest in Pleasanton.  And if I were so inclined this morning, I could take each of today's readings in turn and offer analysis and perspective.  Number one, I have done that before.  Number two, as I say, it would not begin to do justice to the reality we contemplate today: Jesus of Nazareth, true man; and at one and the same time, the Second Person of the Trinity, true God.  Jesus Christ, King of creation, King of the universe.  

I mean, really, give it a moment's reflection.  "Through him" the Andromeda Galaxy came into being.  

And he hung on a cross, bleeding to death, to save not just us but all creation, which fell when its steward (the human being) fell.  To rescue it, its Creator became a human being, and died that death for it.  For us.

I am gonna add anything to that?!?

I do love today's passage from Colossians, one of several in the New Testament that asserts in no uncertain terms the huge mystery we celebrate today. 

"He is the image of the invisible God...in him were created all things in heaven and on earth...all things were created through him and for him...in him all things hold together...for in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell and through him to reconcile all things...making peace by the blood of his cross" (vss. 15-20).

And who does not love the passage from Luke, where Jesus forgives his executioners and prays for their salvation (vs. 34); where St. Dimas (the good thief) comes so startlingly to Jesus' defense, and throws himself on God's mercy (vss. 40-43).  Dimas is the first among all humanity (leaving Mary out of this) to avail himself of the salvation being won at that very moment.  What must it have meant to Jesus, to have that -- that affirmation, that confirmation?  To have that evidence, that proof, of the power and the effectiveness of his sacrifice?  He had not even died yet and already, his total self-giving was bearing fruit.

Thank you, Dimas, is all I can say.

And thank you, Jesus.  Thank you, my Lord, my God, my Savior, my King.  Just a suggestion, to really enter into the cosmic dimensions of the feast we celebrate today: The next time you gaze up at the stars on a clear night, recall that "through him all things were made."

I've joked off and on for the past five and one-half months that though I am technically on sabbatical, there are days when contemplating my schedule, no one would guess it.  But on the whole, that fact has pertained only to the occasional day, maybe two days together, since the start of the summer; on the whole, my weeks have been fairly spacious in terms of time and schedule.  

Not so the twelve days that ended with this past Wednesday.  Among many other things, a three-day Kairos Retreat with the juniors at San Damiano immediately followed by a weekend retreat for Bay Area chapters of the Legion of Mary at St. Clare in Soquel promptly followed by a two-day trip to LA for San Gabriel Media (and some wonderful time with my LA family).  Among several other things, all that and more.  It was like what life used to be like when I was fulltime in the parishes.  That is, non-stop.  

I got to this past Thursday and -- not having the morning Mass -- slept 'til 930, then spent 45 minutes catching up texts and e-mails from bed.  Had coffee after my shower, did not bother to shave, hit the road for Pleasanton, where I had a lunch date with a dear friend, returned to the parish and checked my box in the office (it was overflowing -- I had not checked it in over a week), ran a couple errands and then...drove to Danville for dinner with a couple more dear friends and...felt blessed.  Felt relaxed.  Felt like I had exhaled.  

I mean, after all. I AM (supposedly) on a sabbatical...

Will close with this "report from the road" (that is, I-5, and in contemplation of all that has come to be, through Him).  The recent surprisingly heavy rains, the more so because the south state has actually recorded greater precipitation totals than we have, have left California not just green but vibrantly so, deeply so.  The drive down 5 this week (I waited 'til Tuesday to go, so as to avoid the storm at the start of the week) was gorgeous.  The clarity of the air; the huge fluffy white-and-grey clouds; the sparkling sunlight.  The slopes of the Coast Range were either turning green or were green already and the valley itself was...What was that 1940s film called?  How Green Was My Valley?  How green IS our Central Valley right now?  VERY.  

Only in the Tehachipis did I find myself among summer-still-golden hills.  But even there, and surprising -- because after all, it is only November -- the highest peaks had snow.  It was bright and sunny, driving over the Grapevine, but the huge clouds were all over the place, and as we rose into the mountains, they became quite close to the freeway; maybe just a couple hundred feet above us.  It was cool.  

The drive -- both down and back -- was effortless; zero traffic, plenty of cars and trucks, but we never slowed down anywhere.  I stopped at Harris Ranch both going south and heading back; took photos there, the valley there was so -- photogenic, I guess.  

It was a blessed way to end the twelve busiest days of this sabbatical.  Those days will not be repeated, but I am not sorry for them.  Just the opposite.  All their jammed-together experiences were experiences of grace, above all of the grace of priesthood and for that, well, again, thank you, Jesus, my Lord, my God, my Savior, my High Priest, my King.

That'll wrap it.  

Happy Thanksgiving!  

God bless.

Love,

El Padre

Last-minute changes to the November schedule, all of them this weekend.  I now have all four English Masses here at St. Clement -- the vigil this evening at 5; the 8, 1115 and 630 tomorrow.  

I had not been scheduled this weekend because I had had a trip planned, but as with so many other travel plans this sabbatical, the trip was scotched, owing to my determination to get as much done, as well done as possible, for our efforts at San Gabriel Media.  We wound up without our frequent helper priest this weekend, here in the parish (Fr. Celestine, a young scholar from Rwanda, studying at the GTU in Berkeley).  So our pastor asked me for help.  Happy to take up the slack!

End Times Wisdom: Homily for November 16, 2025

Readings and Virtual Homily for November 16, 2025, Thirty-Third Sunday of Ordinary Time; Powering Through This Mid-November Virtual Homily

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Malachi 3:19-20

• Psalm 98:5-6, 7-9

• 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12

• Luke 21:5-19

Dear Friends and Family,

We are at the next-to-last Sunday of the liturgical year; the predominant theme is the end times.  Had we not had solemnities the past two weekends, this theme would have predominated among their readings, as well.  The last two or three Sundays before the Feast of Christ the King (next week, and the last Sunday of the liturgical year) the readings focus on eschatological themes, that is, they focus on the end of this world and on the afterlife, on the life of the world to come.  

Eschatological, even apocalyptic themes are not unusual in the prophets and the psalms.  Today's first reading from Malachi might be understood as one of the few Old Testament references to Hell.  

"For the day is coming," Malachi writes, "blazing like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble, and the day that is coming will set them on fire, leaving them neither root nor branch" (vs. 19).  

This warning could, of course, be taken in a strictly temporal sense, but even then it is pretty fierce.  It describes something the world has not yet seen; the day of the Lord, the day of inescapable judgment and justice.  The psalm looks forward to this day, prophesying the day when "the Lord...comes to govern the earth, to govern the earth with justice and the peoples with fairness" (vs. 9).

The passage from Luke is early in chapter twenty-one of that Gospel; Luke's "end times" chapter.  It gives little of the detail that the rest of the chapter provides, regarding end times prophecy from Jesus.  And some of what is included in today's reading refers to the destruction of the Temple, an event some thirty-five years in the future at the time of Jesus.  The destruction of the Temple, by the Romans in 70 AD, and the concomitant leveling of Jerusalem, the exile -- on pain of death -- of the Jews from their own capital city, certainly must have felt like an end times event to the first century Jews.  

In fact, Jesus tells the disciples that wars and insurrections will occur; that "many will come in my name, saying 'I am he' and 'the time has come'" (vs. 8).  Jesus warns the disciples not to follow those who say the end is here; he assures the disciples that "such things must happen first but it will not immediately be the end" (vs. 9).  

This is a piece of advice from the Lord that we might bear in mind today, when, in certain sectors of the Church and among the evangelicals, there is what might be termed fervent end times speculation.  As I have said before and no doubt will say again, I believe that we have entered that period of history which Scripture refers to as the last days.  But it has been the consistent teaching of the Church that the end times might be understood as spanning generations, and even centuries.  Significant attention has been paid, for instance, by Catholic scholars, to the French Revolution, to the Enlightenment and the rise of Masonry -- eighteenth century developments -- as indicative of what we might term the beginning of the end.  

 I am aware of various websites and You Tube channels out there, claiming Catholic credentials, which are making bold predictions about the rise of the Anti-Christ, as just one example, in our times; I mean, like within the coming decade.  While the timing of events is known, according to Jesus, to the Father alone (Acts of the Apostles 1:7), I am no stranger to this question.  I have written a book on it.  The Anti-Christ, I will just go out on a (well-supported, in my view) limb and say it, is not even born yet.  No one alive today should expect to see the Second Coming.

I want to close with the observation that a lot of what is out there in Catholic (and Protestant) cyberspace is missing the real point of these prophecies, which is not to engage in parlor games about the possible identities of apocalyptic beasts and "countdowns" to Armageddon, but rather, to turn our hearts and minds to the great reality which lies just over the threshold of eternity, the reality of our own eternal destinies, the reality of sainthood, on which we are rightly focused every November, the month when we remember the novissimi, that is, not the last things so much as the new things.  

To quote again from the psalm (though these opening verses are not included in today's reading): "Sing a new song to the Lord, for he has done marvelous deeds...the Lord has made his victory known...All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God" (vss. 1-3).

I am writing this from San Damiano in Danville, where I am on the last of the autumn retreats with the high school, this one a Kairos retreat, the big three-day affair we host several times a year for the juniors.  I will be at St. Clare's Retreat Center in Soquel, by the time this arrives in mailboxes, giving a retreat there, to Bay Area chapters of the Legion of Mary.  I return from that retreat Sunday afternoon to the monthly Family Mass at O'Dowd followed by our 630 evening Mass at St. Clement.  And the next day I head to LA for San Gabriel Media meetings.  Never a dull moment, on this sabbatical!

Because it has been a long first day here on Kairos, and it is now going on midnight, I will close this one here.

Take good care and God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Feast of St. John Lateran: Mother Church of the World

                                        Readings and Virtual Homily for November 9, 2025, Feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran; Virtual Homily; Book Report; Hope for Venezuela?; Greening Hayward's Hills

 Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Ezekiel 47:1-2. 8-9, 12

• Psalm 46:2-3, 5-6. 8-9

• 1 Corinthians 3:9-11, 16-17

• John 2:13-22

Dear Friends and Family:

Last week, the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time was pre-empted by the celebration of the Feast of All Souls; this week, the 32nd Sunday in OT also gives way to a solemnity, that is, a holy day of such significance that it is even celebrated on Sunday, taking the place of the regular Sunday Mass.

This holy day is a unique one.  It is not a feast of Our Lord, Our Lady nor of any angel or saint.  It is a feast celebrating a building.

That building is St. John Lateran; the cathedral of Rome.  And to do justice to the feast day, it is not, strictly speaking, about a building, since St. John Lateran has been rebuilt several times.  It is about a church. A local church, the cathedral of the Bishop of Rome.  St. Peter's (the Vatican) is not a cathedral; it is not the central church of the Diocese of Rome.  St. John Lateran is.  And because it is the cathedral of the pope, it is considered the "mother church" of the entire Catholic world.

The first reading (one of the more readily readable from Ezekiel) describes the Temple of God in far futuristic terms; terms which refer not to the Jewish Temple, but to the Church.  There is some beautiful imagery in this reading.  The river that flows from the Temple becomes deeper and deeper as it flows, symbolizing the worldwide growth of the Christian faith.  Where the waters of the river flow "they refresh; everything lives where the river goes" (vs. 9).  The waters of the river are described as reaching "the polluted waters of the sea to freshen them" (vs. 8), often understood to be a reference to the Church's global influence; to the spread of God's grace and truth throughout pagan cultures. 

The trees which flourish along the river's banks serve a double life-giving purpose.  They are said to be "every kind of fruit tree" and they bear once a month, every month, their fruit never fails (vs. 12).  Not just the fruit of the trees but their leaves, too, serve a life-enhancing purpose; they are used for medicine (vs. 12).  The metaphor of the fruit trees might be applied to any number of the Church's ministries and apostolates.  

The psalm echoes the first reading's images of life-giving water -- "Streams of the river gladden the city of God" (vs. 5).  Psalm 46 rejoices in the nearness of God, the presence of God in his house and among his people; it may be argued that the psalm foreshadows the time of the Church and the presence of God in the prayers and the sacraments of the Church, above all the Eucharist.

The second reading considers the Church's one foundation, Christ.  It argues that we may build upon that foundation, but cautions us at the same time to be careful how we build (vss. 10-11).  In verses not included in today's passage, we get one of the few Scriptural proof texts for the existence of Purgatory, where Paul assures us that if a man's work -- his attempt to build upon the foundation -- does not stand, the man himself may yet "be saved, but only as through fire" (vs. 15).  The reading goes on to remind us that we ourselves are temples of the Holy Spirit, who dwells within each one of us (vs. 16).

The Gospel is John's account of the cleansing of the Temple. Jesus undertook this action because the house of God had been turned into "a marketplace" as he put it (vs. 16).  The Temple had in some ways become all about money.   The shekel was not accepted at the Temple.  The Temple had its own currency and the people had to exchange their regular money for the Temple coinage, when they visited.  The people were being cheated by the money changers; likewise, they were being over-charged by the vendors of sacrificial animals.  The scene as described in John and the other Gospels is one of shocking upheaval; Jesus overturns the money changers tables, spilling all their coins, and he "made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the Temple area," including the oxen, the sheep, the doves (vss. 15-16).

John quotes Scripture, the Hebrew Scriptures, I mean, "Zeal for thy house will consume me," telling us that the disciples recalled this passage from Psalm 69 when Jesus cleared the Temple (vs. 17).  In any event, respect for the Temple, a recurrent theme among both the psalms and the prophets, is made startlingly manifest here.  And the Temple being the pre-eminent seat of Jewish worship in Jesus' day, this passage underscores the pre-eminence of the church we celebrate today, St. John Lateran.  

A thumbnail history of St. John Lateran is that the property and the original basilica were donated to the Church by the wealthy and patrician Laterani family in the early fourth century.  The site was consecrated as the cathedral of Rome by Pope St. Sylvester 1 on November 9, 324 (this was under the reign of Constantine, the first Christian Roman emperor).  For a thousand years, St. John Lateran was the church and the residence of the popes.  It was the site of five ecumenical councils in the later Middle Ages.  The current church (there have been several over the millennia) was dedicated in 1646.  Beneath the high altar is a fabled relic -- a small wooden table on which it is believed St. Peter celebrated Mass.  

Gotta love it -- actual historical fact or maybe something closer to legend, the fact that that table has been there through seventeen centuries and several iterations of the cathedral building itself, is cause for wonder and joy.

On a strictly personal note, St. John Lateran is my favorite church in Rome.  I like it better than any of the other patristic basilicas, impressive though each of them is.  The four patristic basilicas of Rome are, in addition to the Lateran, St, Mary Major, St. Paul Outside the Walls and St. Peter's.  They are all knockouts, but for my money, John Lateran takes the prize.  Its architectural lines are clean and smooth; it has a certain stately elegance that to my mind, anyway, invites serenity and quiet reflection.  And the colossal statues of the apostles lining the walls are inspirational.  From my first visit to Rome with my priest uncle in 1989, the Lateran has been my favorite Roman church.

Meanwhile, the sabbatical continues.  Though it has been five months now, I am still more than two months out from my return to the classroom.  The last several weeks there has been a shift in focus, though work continues to go forward on all fronts.  The past few weeks my pre-eminent focus has been on books.  I am working on four, and actually, am even taking notes on the next three.  None of which is as impressive as it may sound.  All four of the books I expect to finish over the winter have been in development for years and it will be a nice accomplishment, but really, nothing too stunning, if I have them all completed this winter.  It is cool, actually, going back and forth between them, as I have been doing, quiet mornings, quiet afternoons and quiet evenings here in the quiet rectory suite.  When I feel an inspiration relating to Mary, for instance, I will find myself at work on the book titled ALL ABOUT MARY.  When the desire to re-visit Caracas hits, I find myself sometimes writing fifteen pages at a pop, on my Venezuelan memoire, CARACAS STORY.  

On the subject of Caracas, a fair number of folks have been in touch with me this autumn about the political news regarding Venezuela; that is, regarding the American military build-up in the Caribbean since late summer.  I can only guess, but my guess is not uneducated.  I largely attribute this set of developments to Marco Rubio.  The Secretary of State is the son of Cuban immigrants, knows well the malevolent influence Cuba has had and continues to exercise in Caracas, and has repeatedly in the past exchanged sharp words directly with some of those in power in the Venezuelan government, assuring them, among other things, that he has orange jumpsuits available in their sizes, and cells reserved in their names in federal prisons in Florida.  

Of course, Rubio cannot do anything without the approval of the president, but it appears he has that.  I am not knowledgeable enough to comment on the administration's claim that the Maduro dictatorship is essentially a drug cartel masquerading as a government.  But I know enough about this brutal regime to believe that anything is possible.    

I think it highly unlikely that we are going to invade.  In fact, I think it next to impossible.  No one wants a shooting war in Venezuela, not even that 67% of the Venezuelan electorate that voted in July of last year to oust Maduro.  While one knowledgeable commentator was quoted recently in THE NEW YORK TIMES as saying that a huge number of Venezuelans would welcome American troops with open arms, I think it would be truer to say that a huge number of Venezuelans would welcome any legal stepped-up diplomatic and economic pressure the United States can bring into the equation.  That is as much as I can offer, in terms of my own analysis.  The situation bears watching and certainly, bears prayer.

Something I am able to do substantially more of, on sabbatical, than during the academic term, is sitting at my windows here in the Hayward rectory, gazing out over the hills which rise immediately above our property line.  The Hayward hills enchant me any time of year, and just at the moment they are making me smile with the faint but persistent under-blush of green that they are exhibiting, following the recent rains.  I remain traumatized by the drought of 2019-22, and despite three strong wet years in a row I am hoping and praying for another this winter.  That light and pretty shade of spring-like color amid the still largely golden hue of the slopes gives me hope.

 I'll close it here.  

Take good care and God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Becoming Saints: Grace in Our Struggles and Strengths

Readings and Virtual Homily for November 2, 2025, Feast of All Souls; Four Days Out of Five at O'Dowd; November Schedule

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Wisdom 3:1-9

• Psalm 23:1-6

• Romans 5:5-11

• OR

• Romans 6:3-9

• John 6:37-40

Dear Friends and Family,

This weekend is, of course, the weekend that starts the month of the souls, the month of the novissimi, which we associate with the Last Days and the Last Things, but which in fact actually translates as the New Things (novo -- new in Latin).  There need not be any sense of contradiction, Last Things, New Things.  The Four Last Things Ever To Be Remembered, after all (Death, Judgment, Hell and Heaven) directly correlate to the beginning of the New Things, the new heavens, the new earth, the new and everlasting life already enjoyed by the saints and toward which we direct our own earthly efforts.

As a child my favorite day of this Triduum was All Hallow's Eve, that is, of course, Halloween.  I liked All Saints Day a whole lot, too, because back when I was a kid, all Catholic schools took the day off.  A holiday with a trick or treat bag full of candy!  Didn't get much better than that.  

As I matured (like that word better than as I aged), I came into a greater appreciation of All Saints Day -- I mean to the point where it became one of my favorite feast days of the year.  This would be back around the time -- my late twenties and early thirties -- that I had returned to the practice of the faith and had a hungry and deep appreciation for the saints, for their adventures, their struggles, their joys and setbacks, their inspirational lives.  

The saints were, they are, inspirational simply in the variety of approaches they exhibit, in terms of coming into one's fullness as a disciple.  From Francis and Clare and their embrace of evangelical poverty to Helena, Roman Empress, who employed her near-limitless wealth in such a way as to become known as "mother of the indigent and poor," in both Rome and Constantinople.  I remember a priest-professor at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley once remarking to us (his students) that though "there are only so many ways to be bad, there appears to be an endless variety of ways to be good."  

I liked that.  It speaks not just to the great diversity of gifts, talents and approaches to discipleship that we find among the saints, but to our lives -- to the empowerment by grace of our unique skills and abilities, indeed, of our passions.  Which last gets to another thing about the saints and their example -- we may admire them for the huge variety of gifts they collectively developed and placed at the service of humanity.  But we may also admire the way they allowed grace to light up their passions, giving us insights into the way their sainthood played out through their individual characters and personalities.  

They all had faults to overcome.  None of them were born saints.  The way they worked with grace -- through struggle and setback every bit as much as through success -- had a lot to do with shaping their unique path of discipleship, their unique sainthood.  It can give us hope and encouragement to realize that where we are weakest, God is strongest.  It is in the cracks that the Light can shine through, opening up latent interior capacities, capacities which, assisted by grace, result in the triumph of virtue, developing strengths within us which we might not have guessed ourselves to possess.  (For indeed, and not meaning to belabor the point, only to clarify it: we possess these strengths only as potentialities; their development and empowerment relies on our cooperation with grace.)

The dynamics of sainthood fascinate me, and have, since, as I say, I first came back to the Church at 28.  

There is then, finally, All Souls Day, the feast we actually are celebrating this Sunday.  My deepening appreciation of the significance of this feast only got going at seminary, where the Hispanic seminarians made a bright and showy celebration of the day, following the customs of their native (or ancestral) lands.  If you'd asked me about All Souls Day in my thirties, I probably would have shrugged.  In my forties (at seminary) I came to a real appreciation of the deep, the powerful and abiding faith that lies behind the gaily painted skulls, the flower-bedecked altars with offerings of favorite foods and beverages for the departed souls, the outright parties in the cemeteries.  

I came to see this manner of celebration as a bright and joyful manifestation of the reality of the Catholic doctrine of the communion of saints.  Hispanic Catholics took that reality to heart; El Dia de Los Muertos is a day of joy -- why shouldn't it be?  Our beloved dead are, in fact, more alive than we are, in eternity.  And they are with us in ways we are by no means able to fully appreciate or experience.  But on the Day of the Dead, the feast of All Souls, we "open the veil" between our world and theirs, and celebrate with them; our love for them, their love for us, God's love for all.  

Cool.  Or, as they say in Caracas, chevere.

So after all that, just a thumbnail summary of today's readings.  All of them are directed to a confident hope of the joys of the afterlife.  They are, not surprisingly, readings which are often employed at funeral Masses.  The first, from the Book of Wisdom, describes the life of the saints in vibrant terms -- shooting like sparks amid the stubble and ruling over nations (vss. 7-8).  Psalm 23 needs little explication; it is one of the most comforting and beloved of all the psalms, declaring unshakable trust in the Good Shepherd.  Both readings from Romans offer deep assurances of our eternal safety in the love of Christ; in his desire and power to save us.  The Gospel passage is the one where Jesus assures us that no one who has come to him will be lost (vs. 40).  In sum, today's readings urge a confident hope in our own eventual sainthood.

I was on campus four times this week -- that is, I was involved with campus events four times.  The first (of three) sophomore retreats transpired at San Damiano in Danville Monday and Tuesday of this week.  About 40 members of the Class of 2028 on hand.  We had seven student leaders (juniors and seniors) and ten adults.  The theme of the sophomore retreat is very apt for the week which includes All Saints Day: Superheroes; identifying one's own super powers and finding ways to place them at the service of humanity.  In other words, the retreat is about how to become a saint, but translated into language and images the kids can relate to.

Thursday morning I was on campus to celebrate our All Saints Mass.  Friday was a professional development day; the kids had it off, so we did our huge and very joyful All Saints Mass on Thursday.  

Then, Friday evening, I was back on campus to watch the fall musical, Little Shop of Horrors.  Bizarre, almost Gothic, musical from I think the late seventies.  I don't really know what I thought of the play (I told a colleague, an English teacher, as we were exiting that I could use a literary analysis and maybe some overall instruction on the musical's central metaphor).  I may not have known what I thought of the play but I know what I thought of the kids' performances.  Stellar.  As always.  The talent on display on the O'Dowd stage, three productions each year, is sometimes nothing short of breath-taking.  

And I am actually back on campus Sunday, for Open House, as noted above.  This was a week for the high school, I guess; a week where the sabbatical was to some real extent suspended.  All good.  I have enjoyed it.  

This is waaaaaay long enough!  I'll close here.

Take good care; God bless; Happy All Saints/All Souls Days!

Love,

Fr. Brawn

November Schedule:

PLEASE NOTE CHANGE IN THE PLEASANTON MASS THIS MONTH: It is not November 2, as originally scheduled. It is now November 30. The change was necessitated by my presence being requested at Open House at the high school, November 2.

If the weekend Mass schedule looks a little sparse that is because it is.  I am giving a retreat at St. Clare in Soquel one weekend this month and I was supposed to be traveling over another -- the travel plans got canceled, but the schedule was already set.  

Saturday, Nov. 1

5 PM (English)

Sunday, Nov. 2

630 PM (English)

Sunday, November 16

630 PM (English)

Saturday, November 29

5 PM (English)

Sunday November 30

11 AM (English) THE CATHOLIC COMMUNITY OF PLEASANTON/Seton Campus

630 PM (English)

Daily Masses (all 8 AM and in English)

• Sat. Nov. 1

• Mon. Nov. 3

• Mon. Nov. 10

• Mon. Nov. 17

• Fri. Nov. 21

• Mon. Nov. 24

• Fri. Nov. 28

Faith, Service, and Humility in Action

Readings and Virtual Homily for October 26, 2025, Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time; Spirit Week at O'Dowd; San Gabriel Media Hits Another Milestone

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Sirach 35:12-14; 16-18

• Psalm 34:2-3, 17-19, 23

• 2 Timothy 4:6-8; 16-18

• Luke 18:9-14

Dear Friends and Family,

"He then addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else," Luke 18:19 (the start of today's Gospel passage).

The parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector is, sadly, perennially current.  I always remark that whenever we read a condemnation on Jesus' part of the religious leaders of Israel, the leaders of the Church need to hold it up against themselves as though it were a mirror, to see to what extent it might apply. The reality that there are people who claim to love God, who claim to be striving after holiness, who talk a good talk but refuse to walk the walk, is every bit as much a reality in our day as it was at the time of Jesus.  Modern Christian Pharisees, so to speak, might be very particular about observing the letter of the law while ignoring its heart -- this describes the Pharisees of Jesus' day.  

And it is a dangerous place for a self-professed follower of Christ to be, when we consider that Jesus' anger (with the sole exception of the money-changers at the Temple) was reserved exclusively for the rule-following, self-righteous and harshly judgmental religious leaders of first-century Israel.  The entire twenty-third chapter of Matthew is a searing condemnation of the hypocrisy of many of Israel's religious leaders.  "Blind fools," Jesus calls them (Matthew 23:17); "blind guides, who strain at the gnat and swallow the camel" (vs. 24).

In accusing the religious leaders of his day of straining at the gnat, Jesus is saying that they laid far too much emphasis on little infractions of the law, while ignoring huge injustices, or even committing the injustices themselves (swallowing the camel).  Jesus calls the Pharisees, Sadducees and other leaders "serpents" and a "brood of vipers" (vs. 33); calls them hypocrites again and again and warns them of "the judgment of Gehenna" (vs. 33).

The Pharisees were guilty of the sin that we today in the Church refer to as clericalism; they served themselves rather than the people; they took advantage of their positions of trust and of power; they sought the advancement of their own careers rather than the service and care of the flock that God had entrusted to them.  At the same time they thought themselves righteous because they followed the rules (the Pharisee in today's Gospel offers a "prayer" to God in which he boasts of following the rules).  

Let me underscore the fact that there is nothing wrong with following the rules.  The rules (in the case of the Pharisees, Mosaic Law; in our case Canon Law) are not arbitrary; they are there for good reason.  Properly understood and applied, the rules seek to support and empower the faithful; beyond that, to protect them from evils which arise both from within and without.   

But as St. Paul points out over and over again, the law has no power to save.  Without a deep conversion of the heart, simply following the rules is meaningless.  Today's first reading and the psalm urge us to embrace this very conversion; urge the sort of empowered discipleship that Jesus asks of us.  

"Give...generously, according to your means," the first reading urges, for God hears "the cry of the orphan...the widow when she pours out her complaint" (vss. 12, 17).  And not just today's verses but most of Psalm 34 concerns itself with the plight of the poor, the afflicted, the marginalized.  Repeatedly the psalmist stresses God's love for the poor and his providential care for them, encouraging us to "Taste and see that the Lord is good" (vs. 9) and providing instructions for us, if we would truly follow the Lord (vss. 12-15, among others).

It goes without saying that the religious leaders of the Church (all of us, priests, deacons, bishops) should strive to follow the example of Jesus; should serve the flock rather than ourselves.  It goes without saying that we have been trusted with an enormous responsibility and that we should strive to be worthy of it.  It goes without saying that we are to model the empowered discipleship urged by today's psalm and first reading.  It is nonetheless the fact that Catholic leaders are every bit as human as the Pharisees of Jesus' time.  

Pray for us.

This past week was Spirit Week at the high school; a very special week each October, with rallies, talent shows and class competitions, the O'Dowd Olympics and more, and...I was on campus twice this week for some of the fun. 

I had spent about an hour, early in the week, answering e-mailed questions from student staff at The Crozier, our student newspaper, about what it is to be on sabbatical, so I was feeling pretty connected regardless.  But attending two of the Spirit Week rallies was high-energy joy and thoroughly affirmed for me (as if I needed it) that Bishop O'Dowd is where I am supposed to be at this time in my priestly service, at this time in my life.

I received affirmation as well, this week, that a sabbatical was within the purview of God's will for me, this fall, as San Gabriel Media hit another milestone.  Overnight Monday we passed 500,000 subscribers at our You Tube channel.  Even I am able to admit that this is an accomplishment.  Even I am able to say, looking at this reality, "Well...okay...I guess we are doing something right."

Having made that concession, I reiterate what I have said repeatedly since early summer, as our subscriber numbers first started to climb...500,000 subscribers is a good start.  A very good start.  I am grateful; grateful and more.  Hard to describe the sense of opportunity, but also of responsibility hitting such a milestone implies...Wow.  Folks like what we are offering; God be praised.  

All the same...I reiterate that we have done little more as yet than pushed back from the gate; that we are merely moving at a good pace along the taxi-way.  The runway is coming into view.  I will let you know when we are on it.  We remain a looooong way, this October of 2025, from lift-off, from flight speed.  But we are definitely headed in the right direction and at a rate of speed that, as I say, satisfies even my demanding set of hopes and ambitions.

God be praised.

Take good care.  God bless.

Fr. Brawn

Persistence, Patience, and God’s Timing

Readings and Virtual Homily for October 19, 2025, Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time; San Gabriel Hits a Milestone

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Exodus 17:8-13

• Psalm 121:1-8

• 2 Timothy 3:14 - 4:2

• Luke 18:1-8

Dear Friends and Family,

Persistence pays.  Those two words might be used to sum up a central theme in today's readings.

The reading from Exodus details an early skirmish in the desert; a battle between the Israelites and the tribe called Amalek.  The Israelites were not always alone in the desert.  They encountered both friends and enemies there and today's reading, as mentioned, details an early battle, a battle which happened even before they had received the Ten Commandments.  

Moses stood on a hillside overlooking the battle.  While his arms were raised, Israel was doing well against Amalek; when Moses got tired and lowered his arms, the battle went against Israel.   So "Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side and one on the other, so that his hands remained steady until sunset" (vs. 12).  And Israel won the battle.

A clear takeaway from this example of persistence is that there may be times when, in order to persist, we will need the assistance and support of others.  

The psalm likewise counsels a persistence based on trust; trust in God's saving help.  The opening verses encourage such trust.  "I raise my eyes toward the mountains.  From whence shall come my help?  My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth," (vss. 1-2).  Observing that the Lord, "the guardian of Israel, never slumbers nor sleeps" (vs. 4), the psalm goes on to assure us that the Lord will "guard you from all evil...the Lord will guard your coming and going both now and forever" (vss. 7-8).  Trust in that reality -- our faith that God has "got this," can be a huge factor in our ability to persevere.

This Sunday is another of those relatively rare ones where the second reading actually dovetails with the theme of the other readings.  In terms of preaching the Gospel, Paul urges Timothy, "be persistent, whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching" (4:2).  Paul references the virtue of patience which is integral to the virtue of perseverance.  It is impossible to persist, to persevere, without patience.  Patience, again, requires trust.  In my own experience, at least, it is much easier to be patient in difficult circumstances, if one does indeed trust that Lord has "got this."

So to Luke and the parable of the persistent widow.  Note that the judge in this parable is described as a bad man.  He is corrupt.  He does what he is bribed to do.  This widow is not bribing him, but her persistence persuades him that she could eventually threaten his physical well-being (vss. 4-5) and so he finally rules in her favor.

Jesus uses the example of the evil judge precisely to drive home his point that if even a bad judge will yield to persistence, and render a just decision, how much more so will it be with God (vss. 6-8).  Our tradition is littered with examples of saintly persistence which in God's perfect timing yielded huge blessings.  

This gets back to the business, which we have recently considered, of God's plan and God's timing.  My experience with both persistence and God's timing is as long as it is deep.  It in fact goes back to the summer of 1979, when I graduated from Cal and realized that if I really meant business about a career as a writer, it was now or never.  

And at times, over the past forty-six years, it has indeed felt like never.  But my conviction that writing was a talent God expected me to develop has never wavered.  To underscore the homily's theme, I have persisted.  And, to make a neat segue into the "personal update" part of the homily, that persistence would at last appear to be producing fruit, at San Gabriel Media.

This past week one of our You Tube videos hit the million marks, in terms of views.  This is a first for us; a milestone.  I am joyful, to be able to report it.  We have a number of episodes, from our various programs, that have racked up hundreds of thousands of views.  But this week, for the first time, one of them hit one million.  We are grateful.

And...we are confident that this is just the first of many videos that will cross the million views mark; we in fact expect entire series of episodes to eventually attract far more than one million views.  There is, so far as I am able to judge, nothing arrogant in our expectations (and I do stress the plural, the "our" expectations; everyone at San Gabriel expects great things, eventually and down the line).  As I have said before, this is the Gospel.  This is the Good News.  We present it, at San Gabriel, in a new and unique way.  Our audience is beginning to find us; and because they are OUR audience, they appreciate us.

And we appreciate them.  We've got a lot of great things in store, for our subscribers.

On a tangential and rather comic note, a dear friend in Brentwood texted me this week to let me know that she had just watched a recently posted video at San Gabriel and...

"Jim!  I just saw your most recent post.  Oh my gosh.  You look like death warmed over.  Please.  Take care of yourself.  You are burning the candle at both ends.  You are -- allegedly -- on sabbatical.  But are you getting even one good night's sleep a week?!  The puffiness under your eyes and the pallor of your complexion suggest to me the answer to that question and it is not an answer I can abide without protest.  I care about you.  You know I care about you.  PLEASE.  Take care of yourself.  Take time off.  Time to relax.  Time to reflect.  This.  Is.  A.  Sabbatical.  Do you know what the word means?!  Sorry if I have spoken out of turn.  I love you and you know it.  That is the reason for this text."

So, okay.  Not a direct and exact quote, but close enough, as we used to say at my office at Cal, close enough for government work.  You get the gist of my dear friend's concerns.

So...yeah...It.  Is.  A.  Sabbatical.  

And I ain't takin' no time off.  That is why I cancelled Europe this month.  I would be in Paris this weekend, had I stayed with the original travel plan.  Much as I love Paris, I am really glad to be in Hayward, this weekend, instead.

And though I apologize for looking like death warmed over in a recent video -- and we can do things to arrest that problem -- I just have to say this.  This sabbatical feels hugely satisfying -- to the point of self-indulgence -- precisely because of how it has freed me to...work.  Work fulltime at writing, at editing, at video production and post-production, at marketing and at the promotion of a brand new media ministry that seeks -- I mean it -- to engage the world.  Many of our subscribers are from India.  We have subscribers as well in Kenya, in Cape Town, in Buenos Aires, in Manila, in Melbourne.  We have subscribers right here at home.  

San Gabriel is bustin' out all over, to borrow from what I think is the playbook for OKLAHOMA.  (We even have subscribers in Oklahoma.)

Just sayin'.  I mean, I think most of you know me and get me.  I was born to write.  And my writing -- in terms of scripts for You Tube productions -- is finally finding its audience.

All the same, I appreciate very much the "slap up the side of the head" from mi amiga in Brentwood.  I AM getting some real downtime this fall.  But honestly, no, it is probably not enough.  I can aim at getting more.  I did not argue with my friend, in answering her texts.  There would have been no point.  She is right.  But...persistence could be my middle name.  And here I am, after 46 years of persistence as a writer...encountering my audience.  In India!

So, okay...Balance.  Downtime.  Rest and relaxation.  NOT looking like death warmed over in You Tube videos.  Not gonna argue with any of these points.  Just need to figure out how to...totally go for it (which I have been waiting 46 years to be able to do) and at the same time not quite go for broke.  

Easier said than done, because going for broke is something I have never been afraid to do.  Even after winding up broke, time and again.  

I'll be back.  Next week.

Take good care and God bless.

Love,

El Padre, the cheerful workaholic

Healing and Gratitude: Homily for October 12, 2025

Readings and Virtual Homily for October 12, 2025, Twenty-eighth Sunday of Ordinary Time;  On Retreat With the Class of 2026

Readings for Mass this Sunday: 

• 2 Kings 5:14-17

• Psalm 98:1-4

• 2 Timothy 2:8-13

• Luke 17:11-19

 Dear Friends and Family,

The twin themes of healing and gratitude inform this Sunday's readings.

The reading from the Second Book of Kings details the experience of a Syrian general, Naaman, who contracts leprosy and is advised to seek a cure in Israel.  (The following part of the story is omitted from today's readings, but necessary for one of the points I want to make with this homily.)

Naaman journeys to Jerusalem where the prophet Elisha tells him to go to the Jordan River and immerse himself in its waters seven times.  This will effect his cure.  The story has a very human element to it in that Naaman at first strongly resists this advice.  He had expected the prophet to pray over him in person (Elisha had sent word to Naaman without leaving his house).  "Are there no rivers in Damascus?" Naaman indignantly asks, pointing out that the Jordan is, in essence, a creek compared to the rivers of Damascus.  Feeling slighted and maybe even casually dismissed by the prophet, Naaman is ready to go home.

But his servants, whose egos are not involved in the matter, reason with Naaman that after all, if Elisha had asked him to do something very difficult, would he not have gladly done it, to be cured?  Instead of which, the prophet has promised a healing simply by going into the Jordan seven times.  Naaman is persuaded and "plunged into the Jordan seven times" (vs. 14; the first of today's verses).  He is completely healed.  

Naaman -- again, a Syrian, not Jewish -- subsequently offers a canticle of gratitude, praise and wonder.  "Now I know," he tells Elisha, "that there is no God in all the earth, except in Israel" (vs. 15).  Naaman asks the prophet for "two mule-loads of earth" -- that is, Israeli soil -- to take back to Syria with him, for Naaman will from this point forward only worship the God of Israel (vs. 17).

A clear lesson for all of us in the rather charming story of Naaman and Elisha is that God will not necessarily do things our way.  Our prayers WILL be answered, but as God wills it.  Sometimes, as is the case here with the Syrian commander, we need to get out of the way and let God be God.  

The psalm echoes Naaman in that it invites us to praise the Lord, "for he has done marvelous deeds" (vs. 1).  The psalm resonates with the healing, the gratitude and the conversion of the Syrian general as well, when it declares "All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God" (vs. 3).

The reading from the Second Letter to Timothy encourages faithfulness in him who cannot be unfaithful, because "he cannot deny himself" (vs. 13).  The passage might be related to the Gospel passage, in that of the ten lepers Jesus heals, one returns to thank him.  Yet the other nine, whose gratitude comes up short, are all the same healed.  Their failure to express their gratitude to Jesus did not prevent their healing: Jesus intended their healing and he cannot deny himself.  God is faithful whether or not we are.

Which brings us to the passage from Luke; that is, to the ten lepers who beg Jesus to heal them and who, following his instructions, head to Jerusalem to show themselves to the priests (vs. 14).  The reason Jesus sends them to the priests is that, in accordance with Mosaic law, only a priest could declare someone clean of leprosy.   

On their way to the temple, the ten discover they are healed.  Think about this for a moment, just to go a bit deeper with the passage.  Leprosy eventually killed anyone who contracted it, but for years before that, it ruined a person's life.  It was not just the gradual physical ravages of the disease.  According to Mosaic law, lepers had to live away from the community; they were shorn of their families, their homes, their friends, their livelihoods.  They were literally outcasts from society.  These ten had formed a little community of their own, apparently, perhaps sharing a common dwelling, likely receiving food at a distance at designated intervals from family members, and so on.  

Given this harsh reality, imagine the rejoicing of the ten, as they realized that they had been cured.  I suppose we can speculate that the other nine thought it most important to go before the priests and be officially declared clean, and so they did not go back to Jesus.  I suppose we may so speculate; but in fact it is kind of hard to excuse this grave omission.  Jesus had cured them of a disease that had robbed them of their lives.  

In any event just one -- a Samaritan -- returns to thank Jesus.  And Jesus is aggrieved.  "Were not all ten healed?" he asks (vs, 17).  "Where are the other nine?"

It is a reasonable enough question.  After all, there was nothing to prevent all ten of them from coming back to Jesus, thanking him, and then going to the temple, to present themselves to the priests and so obtain their clean bill of health; so returning joyfully to their lives.  There was nothing to prevent the other nine from doing this, but they did not do it.  

So an obvious take-away for all of us here is to be grateful -- and to EXPRESS our gratitude, as Naaman does, as the psalm encourages us to do, as the Samaritan leper does -- when a prayer is answered.  

I try to be intentional in this regard.  I will still sometimes remark at the end of one of our weekend Masses here in Hayward how grateful I am for the nearly-full church.  In these instances I will comment on how, five years ago (and speaking of diseases that make people outcasts, which COVID certainly in its own way did) we were all praying for exactly the reality we now once again enjoy: the simple but very great blessing of being able to gather together, unmasked and with no social distancing, to celebrate Mass inside the church.  This is, in fact, a very great blessing and it is surely an answer to many, many prayers, from 2020. 

In my experience, when we stop and consider our answered prayers, over the years, over the decades, there is no shortage of blessings for which to give thanks and praise to God.  And I am convinced that when we do remember God's blessings (as the prophets and the psalmists so often urge the Jews to do) we open ourselves up to further blessings.  Gratitude begets more reasons for gratitude.  In a spiritual and an emotional dynamic that I have witnessed many times in my own life, we "shift the narrative" when we give thanks to God for blessings received, for prayers answered.  Our hearts become more deeply open to receive yet more blessings.  Can't get into this in any depth here; this one is long enough!  Just an observation on the power and the importance of gratitude.

I was on retreat again at the start of this past week, at San Damiano in Danville.  This time with the senior class; the first of three Senior Retreats we will be having this year.  Good to be with my colleagues.  Good to be with the kids.  The teens in my small group all assured me that I am very much missed on campus, this fall.  I assured them that I miss my students, as well, but that from any analysis this fall does appear to have been the one that was right for the sabbatical.  

The sabbatical, of course, focused as it is on projects and goals at San Gabriel Media, is in fact about transition -- I want eventually to transition to San Gabriel fulltime.  My bro (the business brains of the outfit) and I joke that this is our retirement gig, but it is not actually a joke.  Neither of us has any intention of ever stepping away from San Gabriel.  It is, we hope, a ministry in which we will be engaged as long as we are capable of mental engagement.  This reality resonated with the theme of the retreat, which, of course, being for the Class of 2026, was largely focused on transition.  

The seniors remain in familiar circumstances this fall, going to class and participating in sports, drama, debate, band and so on.  But they are also swamped this autumn, with advanced placement courses; with college applications. letters of recommendation, financial aid forms and so on.  Many of them have already crossed the country to visit schools they may want to attend next year; many will be taking weekend trips to visit campuses in-state or anyway, on the West Coast.  It is an exciting time in their lives and I was glad to be on retreat, this week, reflecting with them on the inevitable fact of transition.  

And speaking of transition...I need to get back to my latest book!

Take good care.  God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

“How Long, O Lord?” – Trusting God’s Timing in Life’s Trials

Readings and Virtual Homily for October 5, 2025, Twenty-seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time; London and Paris Postponed Again

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4

• Psalm 95:1-2, 6-9

• 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14

• Luke 17:5-10

Dear Friends and Family,

The obvious principle theme across today's readings is that of the virtue of faith.  The first reading from Habakkuk begins with a lament, a cry for assistance and the question, "How long, O Lord?" (Ch. 1, vs. 2).  In the fourth verse, not included in today's readings, the prophet asserts, "This is why the law is numb and justice never comes."  Habakkuk sounds as if he has lost faith.

Ever feel like that?  Heaven knows I have.  I have lost count of the number of times I have come to the Lord in simple exasperation at the intransigence of a bad situation.  How long, O Lord, I have indeed asked.  I can relate entirely here, to Habakkuk.

Though it sounds as if Habakkuk has lost faith, in fact, of course, he has not.  The second part of the reading starts with the assurance of God's understanding and God's intent and capacity to rectify things.  "Then the Lord answered me," Habakkuk writes.  The vision Habakkuk has received (of a time of justice, a time when the wrongs will be rectified) "is a witness to the appointed time, a testimony to the end; it will not disappoint" (Ch. 2, vs. 3).  "if it delays," the prophet continues, relaying the Lord's assurance to us, "wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late" (Ch. 2, vs. 3).  

The Lord has an appointed time for everything.  And the Lord's time is always the right time.  I can say this breezily and with confidence, this October of 2025, because I am not, by the grace of God, at the moment enduring an awful situation.  Not so easy to talk like this when we ARE enduring an awful situation. 

The ability to wait on the Lord and on His appointed time is really, to some extent, faith itself, and Habakkuk says as much (Ch. 2, vs. 4).  The psalm reiterates this truth, reminding us of the impatience of the Israelites in the desert, where the people "tried" the Lord though they had seen His works (vs. 9).  Faith calls for trust; the Israelites several times lost their trust in God, during their long sojourn in the wilderness.

Paul's advice to Timothy in the second reading runs a strong parallel to the advice both of Habakkuk and the psalmist.  "Take as your norm the sound words that you heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.  Guard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us" (vss. 13-14).  Paul connects faith with trust; in fact, the two might well be argued to be one and the same thing.

The passage from Luke begins with the apostles asking Jesus to increase their faith (vs. 5).  Jesus assures them that if they had faith the size of a mustard seed they could perform miraculous deeds (vs. 6).  I mentioned once in a Sunday homily here at St. Clement that I did not know what a mustard seed looked like but I had to assume it was pretty small.  A few days later I found a gift from a parishioner in my box at the parish office.  A card with an explanation accompanied the gift itself, which was a small, clear plastic vial containing several mustard seeds: The parishioner has a mustard plant in her yard.  Oh my gosh...they ARE tiny!

All of which, I guess, just goes to encourage us to have faith; that is, to trust in the dark and difficult times, when we cannot help but cry out, "How long, O Lord?"  For all those times that I have so cried out to the Lord, IN RETROSPECT, I am able to say, His timing was indeed perfect.  Factors relating to the situation about which I knew nothing had to be moved into place, for the situation to issue in a divine resolution that was beyond anything I could have planned or aimed for.  IN RETROSPECT I am able to see that and attest to it.  Not so easy, when we are going through it.  

Faith the size of a mustard seed, evidently, might have spared me a lot of anguish, a lot of worry, a lot of thinking "I have to fix this; HOW?"  The Lord does not want us in anguish with worry.  He wants us confident in faith and with a deep, abiding and calming trust in his love for us and his plan for us.  So with the apostles in today's Gospel passage, it is probably a good idea to ask the Lord to increase our faith.  

Well, it is October and you may remember that when my plans to be in London and Paris at the start of the sabbatical were dashed by the new British visa requirement, I immediately re-booked for this month.  Re-booked with a vengeance; got seats coming and going in United's comfy Premium Economy cabin (wider seats and way more legroom); extended the trip from ten days to fifteen and just for the heck of it threw in a quick trip to Gibraltar -- The Rock has been on my bucket list for a decade or more.

That trip was scheduled to commence this coming Wednesday.  Three weeks ago I notified my friends in London and Paris that the trip was off because...San Gabriel Media is so on.  I won't bore you with too many details but I will say this much: I am on track to complete four new books before the sabbatical ends, and we (several of us at San Gabriel) are pacing video production so as to have filmed two completely new series at the You Tube channel, plus adding episodes to programs already up and running; a projected total of somewhere above 250 videos shot before New Year's, half of which are already filmed and in the post-production stage.  

We are this month doing a second printing on five of my currently available books; we plan to run several brand new books (including at least a couple of the four I am working on right now) over the winter.  We have two book promotions lined up for this fall and through the winter.  Meanwhile, the You Tube promo that has been going all summer is barreling into the fall -- we are likely to hit 500,000 subscribers later this month.  

There is proof-reading and editing to do.  There are promo videos and trailers to shoot.  There are marketing strategy meetings, both via Zoom and in person, in Los Angeles, to schedule and attend.  There is -- pesky annoyance! -- realistic financing of and for all of this activity; there are budgetary considerations to attend to.

Well, there.  I lied.  I DID give you a bunch of details, but believe me the list of current and near-term projects and activities is twice what I have just reported.  This is why I am on sabbatical the rest of this year.  I did not take the sabbatical to travel.  Much as I love my friends in London and Paris and much as I love those two cities in their own right, I looked at all that is going forward right now at San Gabriel and then I looked at suspending all of it for fifteen days of leisure in the middle of this month and -- I canceled the fifteen days of leisure.  

London and Paris will still be there at New Year's, when, really, I do intend to travel.  I have often spent the week after Christmas with my friends in Europe and that was always the plan for this year.  It will be at the very end of the sabbatical, and I hope to be able to sit back comfortably in United Premium Economy, December 27, on my way to Heathrow, able to exhale with real satisfaction, at what we will have by then accomplished with the media ministry.  Stay tuned.

That'll do it, for this one.  Take good care and God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Social Justice in Scripture: Amos, Paul, and the Gospel Message

Readings and Virtual Homily for September 28, 2025, Twenty-sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time; On Retreat With O'Dowd; Parish festival; October Schedule

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Amos 6:1, 4-7

• Psalm 146:7-10

• 1Timothy 6:11-16

• Luke 16:19-31

Dear Friends and Family,

I was on a three-day retreat with the high school the second half of the week; it is Saturday morning as I am getting this out.  I will try to give a complete homily but maybe keep it a bit on the short side, as I want to send this ASAP.

First off, the Mass schedule for next month.  It is pretty skimpy because I was planning to be in Europe October 8-23.  Deep-sixed that plan a couple weeks back: The sabbatical is about work, not travel, and I have too much work I want to get done.  But when Father Jesus (pastor here) was doing the schedule in late August, he was going on my instructions to leave me free the entire middle of October.  So, not too many weekend Masses coming up.

The readings this week are unmistakably a call to social justice, to works of charity, and to detachment from worldly things and desires.  The first reading, from the Prophet Amos, picks up from where he left us last week, continuing his warnings against the idle, complacent and uncaring rich of Israel: 

"Woe to those who are complacent in Zion, secure on the Mount of Samaria...those who lie on beds of ivory and eat lambs taken from the flock...who improvise to the music of the harp...who drink wine from bowls and anoint themselves with the best oils, but are not made ill by the collapse of Joseph..." (vss. 4-7)

The "collapse of Joseph," that is, the collapse of the faithfulness of the Jewish people in Israel, the northern kingdom (Judah was the southern kingdom; Amos lived during the time of the divided monarchy) has been described by Amos earlier.  He now warns the people of the north (whose capital was Samaria) of the coming invasion of the Assyrians, which happened in 722 BC.  One result of the invasion was the deportation into the interior of the empire of most of the Jews living in the north.  If you have heard the phrase "the lost ten tribes of Israel," this is where it originates.  

Another result of the Assyrian invasion was that, to replace the deported Jews, the Assyrians relocated many people from other parts of the empire to Israel, whose capital, again, was Samaria.  These western Asian newcomers intermarried with the remaining Jews in the north, creating a hybrid ethnicity and a hybrid religion, part Jewish and part Mesopotamain: the Samaritans.

The passage from Psalm 146 serves as both a reminder and a rebuke to the people of Israel, a reminder that God takes special concern for "the oppressed...the prisoners...the blind...those who are bowed down...the resident alien...the orphan and the widow" (vss. 7-9).  This passage serves as a rebuke to those who "lounge" to use Amos' word, on their couches, eating lamb and drinking wine and composing music for the harp while the hungry go unfed.  

The passage from the second reading actually dovetails perfectly with the social justice concerns of today's readings -- IF we read the several verses immediately before it.  "...we brought nothing into the world," Paul writes, "just as we shall not be able to take anything out of it" (vs. 7, not among the verses in today's passage).  "If we have food and clothing," Paul continues, "we shall be content with that" (vs. 8).

Paul goes on to warn of the destructive temptations that come, when we set our hearts on material gain, and the famous phrase "the love of money is the root of all evils" is the tenth verse.  

The passage for today's readings begins with the admonition, "But you, man of God, avoid all this.  Instead, pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience and gentleness" (vs, 11) and continues with a description of the goal of all such righteousness: "Jesus Christ...the King of kings and Lord of lords...who dwells in unapproachable light" (vss. 14-16).  

Finally, the passage from Luke is that of the rich man and Lazarus -- not the brother of Martha and Mary, but another Lazarus, a poor beggar who lies in great need at the gate of the wealthy man's estate, but whom the rich man ignores.  They both die and Lazarus goes to "the bosom of Abraham" where he receives consolation and the fulfillment he could not find on earth (vs. 22) and the rich man goes to a place of flames and torment (vs. 23).

It may be argued (I have heard it argued both ways) that the rich man is in Purgatory, rather than Hell, as he retains a love for and concern about his brothers still on earth.  He is anxious that they not come to this place of torment (vss. 27-28).  In Hell, no one gives a damn (so to speak) about anyone else, even their siblings still on earth.

Regardless of where we want to say the rich man is, the point of the parable is to attend to those less fortunate, rather than "lounge on our couches" eating lamb and drinking wine and amusing ourselves with music and other forms of entertainment.  

Where we go, with the advice in today's readings -- attending to the needs of the less fortunate -- is an individual decision.  I generally recommend looking for a cause (or causes) that motivates you; that makes you feel energized, fortunate to be able to contribute to, and then -- give joyfully of your time, talent and/or treasure.  For as Paul assures us, "God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 9:7).

Well, so much for keeping it short...

As mentioned at the start, I have been at San Damiano Retreat Center in Danville Wednesday through Friday this week, on a Kairos Retreat with 55 members of the class of 2027.  Any Kairos Retreat is going to be powerful, but this one has special resonance for the way it took me out of sabbatical mode and right back into my life as chaplain at the high school.  It was wonderful to re-immerse myself with the life of the high school, to be with my colleagues and the students.  

Though the sabbatical's extended summer here at St. Clement has deeply reminded me of just how much I remain, at heart, a parish priest, the retreat served to underscore my conviction that the high school is God's will for me for the foreseeable future.  It can still blow me away, the effect I have, without even realizing it, on teens.  At the end of the morning, Friday, as my small group was packing up our meeting room, done with the small group sessions, two of the boys spontaneously hugged me.  One of the girls said that she regretted not yet having me as a teacher, but that being in the Kairos small group with me was clearly the next best thing.  Another of the girls told me her deepest ambition was to become a best selling author, and she really resonated with my own story as a writer.  You get the idea.  It was pretty awesome; Kairos always is.  

Finally, and on the subject or the simple joys of parish priesthood, this weekend is our annual festival here at St. Clement.  I got in from Kairos late yesterday afternoon to see the booths and tents going up.  As I am wrapping this homily up at eleven AM, the music is just starting and the first few dozen (of what will be many hundreds) of parishioners are streaming in, making their way among the flauta, lumpia, Hawaiian bbq, funnel cake and so on booths; the kids lining up to take chances at the game booths and so on.  Grateful for the near-perfect weather this weekend.  Our festival has been one of my favorite parish events from my first fall here at St. Clement, ten autumns ago.

Gonna get this out!  Have a great start to the fall!

God bless.

Fr. Brawn

Mass schedule for October:

Saturday, September 27

5 PM (English)

Sunday, September 28

1115 AM (English)

Sunday, October 5

630 PM (English

Sunday, October 12

11 AM (English; Catholic Community of Pleasanton, Seton Campus)

Saturday, November 1

5 PM (English)

Sunday, November 2

11 AM (English; Catholic Community of Pleasanton; Seton Campus)

630 PM (English -- St. Clement, just in case you are wondering!))

Daily Masses (all 8 AM and all English):

Wed. Oct. 1

Fri. Oct. 3

Fri. Oct. 10

Sat. Oct. 11

Mon. Oct. 13

Wed. Oct. 15

Sat. Oct. 16

Mon, Oct. 20

Fri. Oct. 24

Sat. Oct. 25

Mon. Oct. 27

Fri. Oct. 31; 

Sat. Nov. 1

Wealth, Salvation, and God’s Justice – A Homily for Ordinary Time

Readings and Virtual Homily for September 21, 2025, Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time; Lazy Last Days of Summer

 Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Amos 8:4-7

• Psalm 113:1-2, 4-8

• 1 Timothy 2:1-8

• Luke 16:1-13

Dear Friends and Family,

The Parable of the Dishonest Steward (this week's Gospel passage) is one which I simply don't get.  And reading analyses of it by Bible scholars has not assisted me.  It is easy to see how this Gospel passage is paired (by that committee in Rome) with this week's first reading.  Both involve dishonest authorities.  But Amos condemns the landowners who fix the scales to cheat their customers and who deny their workers a fair wage.  Jesus praises the dishonest steward for being "wise" in worldly ways about money. 

As I say, nothing I have read on this parable provides me with much enlightenment about it, so I am not going to try to construct a homily around it.  Rather, as I sometimes do, I will just look at each of the readings in turn, and let the Holy Spirit connect the dots, if connected they might be.

The first reading is straightforward and unmistakable in its message.  Wealthy landowners in the time of Amos were paying lip-service to God while giving all their hearts and minds to maximizing their profits (vss. 5-6).  And they were doing so at the expense of almost everyone else -- their workers, their distributors, their customers, the families of these people.  Their offenses against justice were great and Amos assures them that "never" will God "forget a thing that they have done" (vs. 7).

The psalm assures us that God is aware of the poor and the oppressed, those taken advantage of by the wealthy and the powerful.  "He raises the needy from the dust, lifts the poor from the ash heap," the psalmist writes, adding that God then "Seats them with princes" (vss. 7-8).  This latter assurance must be understood, I would imagine, as a promise of God's heavenly justice, as the poor were not in Amos' time, nor are they in ours, "seated with princes."

The reading from the First Letter to Timothy actually calls for prayer for those in authority: "I ask that supplications, prayers, petitions, and thanksgivings be offered for everyone, for kings and for all in authority" (vss. 1-2).  Paul goes on to assure us that God wills that everyone, including the rich and the powerful, should be saved (vs. 4). 

The frequent emphasis throughout Scripture on the needy, the poor, the marginalized, coupled with frequent condemnations of those who are comfortable and do nothing to help, can obscure passages such as this one, which remind us that God wants the rich saved, too.  And as we considered in last week's homily, with the example of St. Helena, who was the richest woman in the world, there are no inherent barriers between wealth and salvation.

Then there is the Parable of the Dishonest Steward.  His boss having found out that the dude was "squandering his property," he fires him (vs. 2).  The steward, too old to dig and too proud to beg (vs. 3), decides to make friends with his boss' debtors, so that he will have places to go, houses that will receive him, friends, in other words, who will make sure he does not starve.  He has the king's debtors "downsize," so to speak, their written promissory notes, so that one who owed one hundred measures of oil now owes -- in the newly revised record -- only fifty, and so on (vss. 5-7).

Of this business, Jesus says that the master "commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently" (vs. 8).  After observing that the children of the world are smarter with money than the children of light, Jesus says, "make friends with dishonest wealth so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings" (vss. 8-9).  He goes on to say that no servant can serve two masters -- dishonest wealth on the one hand, and real wealth on the other (vs. 13). 

We may certainly take this much away from the parable -- there is a very great difference between the wealth of this world and the wealth of the next; eternal wealth.  The dishonest steward, distracted by the wealth of this world, and unreliable in his management of it, at least finally uses it to foster relationships -- to make friends and assure his "welcome" into their mansions. 

He's still dishonest.  And that is where I just have to leave off with it.  An insightful analysis of this parable appears to be above my paygrade, speaking of wealth...

Well it is the middle of September and right on schedule, the temps are rising; it has really felt like summer, much of the past couple of weeks.  I don't mind it -- I mean, after all, I grew up in the Sacramento Valley.  Summer is supposed to be hot.  And even at that, Hayward's idea of hot is Sacramento's idea of a mild and pleasant summer day -- high eighties, low nineties. 

The heat has all the same suggested a slightly slower sabbatical pace for me, and I three times the past ten days found myself among the breezy hibiscus on the patio at Vic's on Main Street, Pleasanton, sipping a refreshingly cool mimosa while studying the restaurant's simply amazing menu.  Ernesto and Laura, Vic's owners and active parishioners in Pleasanton, are friends of mine from way back.  Most of the staff knows me as well; knows me and knows my signature drink.  The mimosa is typically on the table before I have ordered it. 

It goes without saying that I would not have been relaxing on the patio at Vic's three weekdays the past week and one-half, were I not on sabbatical.  It has felt positively luxurious, having this degree of freedom and control over my schedule, since early August, when I would otherwise have been back on campus. 

Parish priests have considerably more lee-way in scheduling themselves than does a high school chaplain, during the academic term, and one thing I definitely miss about parish priesthood is precisely that lee-way, that freedom, that ability to schedule my time by and large as I please.  Though as I have said, my plans are to remain at O'Dowd another several years, something I will look forward to, once I am back to parish work full-time, is the freedom to schedule a brunch on the patio at Vic's when I desire to do so.

Midway through it now, I am enjoying and am grateful for the freedom the sabbatical is granting me.

Hope this finds you well and happy.  God bless you.

El Padre