When I was a young boy in Burlington, Vermont, my dad had a good friend named Phil who owned a sporting goods store. I loved sports, so meandering the treasure-filled aisles was an unmitigated joy. One afternoon, we were shopping for a baseball glove. Dad said to me, “Hey Johnny, see that man who just walked into the store? That’s Phil.” I remember being fascinated and a little terrified. I recall thinking, “That man right there is in charge of everything in this store!”

I recently moved into a new neighborhood. On my first evening I went grocery shopping and could not find my usual favorite Greek yogurt. Strangely, my heart started to race. All the losses of my previous life hit me. So many of my old friends, habits, comforts, and predictable experiences had fallen away. There I stood, a grown man, crying like a little boy whose world was falling apart in the dairy aisle.

Once at an evening Mass as a poor college student, the collection basket was fast approaching, and I only had a ten-dollar bill. I was planning on using that to buy my favorite Chipotle burrito that night for dinner. Should I keep the money? Who would know if I did? If I gave it away, what would I eat? Would I be okay? I kissed my future burrito goodbye, dropped the money in the basket, and winced. But strangely, the rest of the Mass I felt more engaged than usual. I had skin in the game. I left the Mass excited to see how God would take care of me. And he did, in amazing ways.

Happy Sunday,

It’s good to be back in the U.S. after our parish pilgrimage. It was a beautiful opportunity to visit Holy Sites around Italy. I offered Mass regularly for our whole parish community in Rome, Assisi, and San Giovanni Rotundo (where Padre Pío lived). While it’s good to be back, unfortunately, I will be on the move quite a bit in November.