It’s hard to believe that only a month ago we were coming together around the Lord’s altar—at some Masses in great numbers—to celebrate Christmas!  At the risk of being redundant, I hope your celebration of our Savior’s birth was much more than twinkling lights and delicious meals, but an occasion to remember how precious we are in the sight of God, that the Father should send his Beloved Son into the darkness and pain of our world so that we might be freed from sin and raised to new life.   And I hope, too, that these first weeks of the new year have come carrying hope and promise for you, and all those you love.  God is ever with us, so we have ample reason to walk in faith and trust. 

Since Fr. Ben took off from JFK on December 28^th, I’ve tried to keep up with his comings and goings back in Nigeria, though texting only conveys so much.  Father had a long trip to arrive back at this family’s home, but he’s very glad to have arrived there safely.  I’ve seen photos of him with his 92-year old mother—she’s a beautiful woman, (as her youngest son is handsome!)—and in every picture Fr. Ben has a big, beautiful smile.  This return trip also involves a convocation with his Cardinal and fellow clergy; it may well have concluded by the time you read this.

Many of you have become increasingly aware of the very real danger involved in going home for Father.  The genocidal terrorism that has overtaken Nigeria—a country painfully divided between Muslims and Christians—has claimed thousands of lives—perhaps tens of thousands.  Kidnappings are commonplace.  Fr. Ben himself does not wear his Roman collar in public, and he remains largely “out of sight” for good parts of the day.  Fellow priests have been kidnapped, and even killed.

I don’t write this to cause you undue anxiety, but rather to urge you to keep Father, his family, and the people of Nigeria—Christian, Muslim, and traditional religionists—in your prayers.  What was once a leading African nation is plagued not only by sectarian violence, but by rampant hunger, poverty, government corruption, and despair that real change is not on the immediate horizon.

Fr. Ben is confident he will return to the U.S. safely, and as planned on February 14^th.  But in the meantime, let’s redouble our prayers that his visit home will continue to be a pleasant one, undisturbed by any hardship or difficulty; that he can come back refreshed and hopeful; and that the nation in which he takes such pride will somehow see a new dawn in the very near future.

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

It was on Friday, June 24^th 2022, that the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, the tragically misguided 1973 legislation that made access to abortion a protected right in the United States in virtually all circumstances. The decision in June of ‘22 was enormous in its significance, dismantling almost 50 years of legal protection for abortion rights on the federal level, and paving the way for individual states to curtail or outright ban abortions.  

Given the gravity of the Court’s decision, one might understandably ask if the March for Life held each January in Washington, D.C. would continue to take place as before.  The answer is  yes, it has been.  This year’s March is scheduled for this coming Friday, January 23^rd (the Roe v. Wade anniversary is actually Thursday, the 22^nd.)  I’d like to reproduce a brief piece from the website of the National March for Life, entitled, “WHY WILL WE CONTINUE TO MARCH?”  It reads as follows:

Even with the wonderful blessing of Roe v. Wade being overturned, which allows more freedom at the state level to enact pro-life laws, the necessary work to build a culture of life in the United States of America is not finished. Rather, it is focused differently. Sadly, the number of abortions annually is still well over 900,000 each year, and that number is expected to decrease only by roughly 200,000 each year in a post-Roe America. Many national legislative battles loom, including even keeping longstanding Hyde protections, which limit government funding for abortion on annual appropriation bills. The Hyde Amendment has saved over 2 million lives and is arguably the most impactful pro-life policy in our nation’s history, but now cannot be taken for granted.  Last, our most important work is changing hearts and minds. The goal of the national March for Life is to not only change laws at the state and federal level, but to change the culture to ultimately make abortion unthinkable.

With the role of the states being more important, we are also growing a strong state march for life initiative quickly, however, we will continue to march every January at the national level until a culture of life is restored in the United States of America.

Here at St. Lawrence, you are invited to participate in our observance of this year’s 52^nd anniversary of  Roe v. Wade in two ways:  (1) Next Sunday, January 25^th, we will pray the Rosary together in celebration of the sanctity of human life, immediately following the 11:00 AM Mass; and (2) on Thursday, January 22^nd, the annual Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children, the Blessed Sacrament will be exposed for adoration following the 9:00 AM Mass until 3:00 PM.  (If there should be a funeral that morning, Exposition will begin around 11 AM). 

This Friday, the 23^rd, let’s be sure to take time from whatever we may be doing to lift up our hearts in prayer for those marching in our nation’s capital; for an end to abortion; for mothers and couples faced with the vexing situation of an unexpected  or unwanted pregnancy; for state and national legislators, those in the judiciary, and those in the medical profession; for pro-life advocates here at home and around the world; and most importantly for a radical transformation of mind and heart in our country that will eventually “make abortion unthinkable.”

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

PS – For more information on events surrounding the Roe v. Wade anniversary and the March itself,  go to www.marchforlife.org  

Happy New Year, everyone!  I hope the grace-filled days of the Christmas season, and your celebration of the arrival of 2026 have been bright, festive, and full of hope for the year we’ve just begun.  Some are glad to see the old year slip away, but no matter how you feel in looking back over 2025, we ought to be mindful that every year—every minute of every year—is ultimately God’s gift.  Uncovering the goodness and beauty in what we experience over twelve months can be a challenge, especially if 2025 was marked by any of the things that weigh on our hearts or burden those we love—illness, financial stress, broken relationships, violence, loneliness, or grief to name only a few.  With you, I hope the twelve months ahead will bring a full measure of hope, resilience, courage, healing, and peace.

On this ancient and beautiful Feast of the Epiphany, our imaginations turn to the exotic characters “from the East” who arrive in Bethlehem of Judea, to pay homage to the newborn king of the Jews.  It’s only St. Matthew who relates the drama of the Magi, but it would be hard for any of us to imagine the Lord’s Nativity without the presence of these scholar-kings, riding on camelback with precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to lay at the feet of a seemingly ordinary baby boy.

One of the themes running through today’s feast is that of seeking and finding.  The Gospel account tells us that the Magi climbed into the saddle and embarked on their famous journey because they had observed the rising of a new and luminous star—a celestial indicator that long-forgotten prophecies were being fulfilled with the appearance of a newborn king.  Though these men were foreigners, and non-Jews, once they saw the sign they were quick to act—traveling distances St. Matthew doesn’t specify in order to pay homage to  a child they do not yet know. 

For us, the Magi can certainly represent the human impulse to seek out what we believe can satisfy the longings of our hearts, to shake ourselves out of the complacency and routine of day-to-day in order to find Him who satiates every hunger, dries every tear, gives meaning to every struggle, holds the  answer to every question.  Jesus is the treasure at journey’s end.  No one, and no thing on this planet can bring wholeness to our lives like Bethlehem’s tiny child.  If only we can recommit ourselves to seeking him out.  

But perhaps we can also serve as guides for one another’s seeking.  As I’ve suggested around this time of year on more than one occasion, one of our resolutions for 2026 might be that we—like the star of Bethlehem—could serve as guides to those who are searching . . . searching for meaning in their lives, searching for comfort and peace, searching for healing, reassurance, companionship, understanding, forgiveness, and acceptance.  We already know the One who can give all those gifts in greater measure than we might dare to ask.  But so many of our sisters and brothers do not know Jesus, or if they do, are just barely acquainted.  The wise men needed the star to bring them to the place where the holy child was.  Just so, the Lord wishes to use us to point the way to the Lord of life for one another. 

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us in the new year!  God love you.

Dear Parishioners, Visitors & Friends,

I’m composing this message more than two weeks before Christmas actually arrives, and just this afternoon we received a call from Moloney’s Funeral Home in Bohemia.  The woman I spoke to called to schedule a funeral Mass in a few days’ time.  I took down the information we’d need, but after hanging up I was struck by how jarring it is to contemplate loss, grief, and death at what everyone tells us is “the most wonderful time of the year.”  The Advent season we’ve been celebrating since November 30^th is brimming with hope, peace, joy, and love, yet the sadnesses of life keep coming.  We may try to distract ourselves for these several weeks with twinkling lights, festive decorations, tree-lightings, Christmas concerts, and loads of shopping, but we know that life has a way of barging into our reverie.  Like that phone call from Moloney’s. 

As we step over the threshold from Advent into the bright and beautiful feast of the Lord’s Nativity, a very natural question to ask is this:  why was Jesus born?  Why did the eternal Father choose to send his Son, his Beloved, straight into the violence and hatred, the poverty and pain, the vulnerability and injustice and tears of our human condition?  Why did Jesus come?

There are many ways one could respond to so deep a question, and saints, theologians, scholars, and poets over the centuries have written countless pages on the subject.  But for me, there’s one answer that rushes to the forefront . . . Jesus came so that we might live forever.   The Son of God lays aside his glory, and is born to a frightened, homeless couple in ancient Bethlehem precisely so that my dad, and your mom, or grandfather, or cousin, or best friend, or child—and the whole of our fragile, fallen human race—might be restored to the promise of everlasting life.  That’s the WHY behind Christmas.  Ultimately it has little to do with beautifully wrapped gifts or an aromatic tree, carolers in the street or cocoa in the kitchen, or that first magical snowfall (and don’t get me wrong—I love all that stuff!)  But why does God leap down from heaven in the silence of night, to shiver in a manger full of hay?  So that each of us might be rescued from our sins, and enjoy the bright promise of immortality in our Father’s house. 

“What wond’rous love is this?” asks one of my favorite hymns.  That our merciful God would not allow his wayward children to slip away into shadow and death, but sent his Son to take us by the hand and lead us home.  We are meant to rejoice in that heavenly place, where loved ones wait for us and pray for us even now.  And all because an infant was born on that first Christmas.  May this Christmas find you at peace in the hollow of God’s hand, secure in the knowledge that you are dearly loved, and confident you are destined for eternity. 

A very merry Christmas to you, and all those you love ~

Father Brian & the Staff of St. Lawrence the Martyr Parish 

This weekend, with the lighting of the rose-colored candle on our handsome Advent wreath, we’ve already completed more than half of the season, but still have time to accept the challenge of putting our relationship with Jesus at the very center of our lives, despite the fierce temptation to give first priority to shopping and wrapping and card-writing and party-planning. That temptation can be almost irresistible, when so much of our culture is swept up in the more secular enticements of this “most wonderful time of the year.”  But we know that there would be nothing special at all about late December, were it not for the birth of a baby boy—a Divine Child—some two thousand years ago in that crude stable in Bethlehem.

Last Sunday, along with many of you, I had the pleasure of watching a troupe of our youngest parishioners gathering around their own replica of that stable for our Children’s Christmas Pageant.  I was smiling at the very first rehearsal, and I’m still smiling now . . . the children presented us grown-ups with a fresh, poignant (sometimes very funny), simply wonderful rendition of a Story we know so well, but can never get enough of.  I’m so grateful not only to the narrators and cast (who knew the Roman army recruited such pint-sized soldiers?), but also to the stage crew, to Jeanette, our young leader of song, to the adults who put in so much effort on costumes and props, scripts and sets, programs and refreshments, and in a very special way to Mrs. Allison Jeanes, the director and cheerleader for the whole delightful production.  (Allison was directing the program for the first time this year, so I want to offer her added applause!).

That was last Sunday!  This Sunday we have just as beautiful an opportunity to enter more deeply into the fleeting spirit of Advent—though in a distinctly different way—by experiencing a service of Lessons and Carols.  This beautiful interplay of Scripture readings (“lessons”) and some of our most beloved hymns and carols is a wonderful way to be transported, even if just for an hour+, to a place of serenity, hope, and joy.  Our lectors will proclaim the prophecies foretelling the Messiah’s coming, and the familiar episodes of the Nativity story, while our Music Ministry will lend all their skill and prayerfulness to lift our spirits in song.  If you’d like to make the latter half of Advent even more special, or if the season hasn’t gotten off the ground in the way you might have hoped, participating in Lessons and Carols might be just the thing to rekindle your longing for the Prince of Peace. Please join us.  And happy Gaudete Sunday!

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

I’m cobbling together this weekend’s column   a little hastily on Monday night, with this coming Saturday, December 6^th, very much in mind.  The 6^th would have been my dad’s 93^rd birthday.  It’s hard for me even to imagine him as a 93-year old, especially when so many of my memories of him are from years ago when he was constantly on the move and full of energy and purpose.  Later this week I hope to hang a beautiful cross-shaped ornament I found several years ago at Pier 1 on our Tree of Remembrance, and say a prayer that the One whose birth we’ll soon celebrate has taken my dad into his strong arms, swept aside every trace of struggle or pain, and made him radiant and new in His kingdom.  If you’re feeling a twinge of grief during these otherwise festive and colorful weeks, please know that you’re certainly not alone.  It’s hard to be gleeful when one’s heart is feeling the sting of having said good-bye.  But do be mindful that the reason God sent his Son 2000 years ago to that crude stable in Bethlehem, is so that we might not perish, but have eternal life (cf. John 3:16).  Advent is meant to be a season rich in hope, even if we may not always be feeling that way.

December 6^th is not only my father’s birthday, but also the feast of St. Nicholas, the 4^th century bishop of Myra (in what is present-day Turkey).  He is, of course, the altogether real person who over time becomes the “jolly old elf” standing at the center of our culture’s celebration of Christmas.  I have a statue of St. Nicholas on the mantle in the rectory—he’s one of my favorite saints, renowned not only for his holiness and devotion as a shepherd to his people, but also for his charity, his compassion for the least among his people, and his goodness to children.  His “look” has certainly changed since the 4^th century, but the primacy of generosity and love to which he calls us remains very much the same.  I have no doubt he’s praying for us this Advent—even as he readies his sleigh!—praying that we might remember how best to love God and love one another, and that (as the children in Sunday’s Christmas Pageant love to say) Jesus is the reason for the season. 

With Christmas falling on a Thursday this year, we get to enjoy about three and a half weeks’ worth of Advent.  The season can be shorter, so I’m glad for the few extra days.    Do try as best you can to grab hold of every opportunity that presents itself before the 25^th to steal some quiet time for yourself, to set aside the endless to-do’s we heap on ourselves this time of year, and to allow the God who loves you so dearly to cleanse and  refresh your spirit as we continue our journey to Bethlehem together. 

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

“Almost anything can be fixed if you unplug it—including ourselves.”

Is that a great quote, or what?  It’s from author Anne Lamott, and I read it just a little over a week ago.  For all of us who don’t specialize in tech stuff, it’s true!  Try unplugging the computer, or the microwave, or whatever, and often enough it’ll reboot.  But Ms. Lamott wants to convey a truism about human nature—WE need to “unplug”—at least somewhat—from the frenzied pace of contemporary life in order to find ourselves; to discover new reserves of peace, resilience, acceptance, and joy; to recognize that God truly IS in our midst.  

But “unplugging” from what’s demanded of us day after day can be so hard: there are only so many hours in a day, and the demands keep growing, the emails and texts keep coming, the to-do’s keep piling up—at this time of the year more than any other.

Advent is meant, among other things, to be a help to our unplugging.  This weekend we begin an entirely new liturgical year, with a single candle flame flickering on our beautiful Advent wreath, and the church draped in the familiar purples of the season.  The days here in the northern hemisphere have become so very short and increasingly dark—perhaps it’s all the more fitting that a flicker of warm light should invite us into this season of expectation and mounting joy. 

I often wish that Advent didn’t zip by so fast. . . one minute we’re lighting that first purple candle, and getting ourselves oriented to the distinctive rhythm of the season—the next thing you know we’re deciding how to arrange the poinsettias in the sanctuary, or which Christmas Mass to attend!  (I not-so-secretly wish that Lent could be the shorter liturgical season, and Advent take its sweet time!)

On behalf of our parish staff, I want to wish you, not a “Merry Christmas”—it’s too early for that, no matter what our impatient culture says—but a “Prayerful Advent.”  Personally, I find these coming weeks to be my favorite season of the Church year, but it takes effort to unplug!  It might sound all but impossible, given how fast-paced these coming weeks typically become, but why not work at making this Advent different by safeguarding bits of time and solitude to enter meaningfully into this brief but beautiful season?  There will be plenty happening in the parish to guide us through this meditative time; please be sure to look over the opportunities for gathering and praying together listed in today’s bulletin. 

On a more personal level, make a resolution or two that you’ll try to keep in the weeks ahead:  15 minutes for silent prayer, or Scripture reading, or seasonal music every day; or choose a weekday to attend Mass; or pray the Rosary for a special intention; or keep pace with the meditations in the Little Blue Book; or light an Advent wreath in your home; or make some small sacrifice for the coming 23 days (much as we’d do for Lent).  Go to confession.  Go for a walk in the cold air and share your heart with your Father in heaven.  Call or text someone from whom you’ve been distant.  So many possibilities, if only we can be persistent about the “unplugging” part!  May the Lord enliven your spirit this Advent season, and prepare you to receive the Word made flesh in a more poignant and heartfelt way than ever before. 

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

With this weekend’s beautiful feast of Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe, we reach the last Sunday of the Church’s liturgical calendar.  For 52 weeks we’ve traveled alongside our Master, listening to his teachings, mesmerized by his miracles, swept up in the drama of his crucifixion and death, and then wonder-struck with the news of his Easter triumph.  Each year brings us—by way of the Scriptures and the Church’s sacramental life—through the mystery and majesty of the Lord’s saving life, death, and resurrection, and now we come to a kind of grand finale.  Next weekend, our church will be draped in the familiar purples of the Advent season; we’ll light the first candle on our beautiful Advent wreath; and we’ll enter into the same story we think we know so well . . . but hopefully with new eyes, ears, and hearts.

Of course, Thursday of this coming week we also begin the holiday season in earnest (even though hints of Christmas have been in the air since well before Halloween!).  Thanksgiving makes for such a beautiful beginning to the several weeks that follow, particularly because (as holidays go) it hasn’t wandered very far from its original intent.  Admittedly, alot has changed since the fabled meal of 1621, and each year the frenzy of Black Friday and Cyber Monday shopping seems to encroach more and more on the otherwise uncomplicated  beauty of the day.  But Thanksgiving retains a kind of purity, a simplicity, and a spiritual grounding that so many of our other holidays have lost.  Thanksgiving still manages to be about giving thanks, about friendship and family, about sharing with the needy, and about celebrating the abundance that comes from God.  May this week be a time for counting blessings even more diligently than we normally do, and lifting up our hearts and voices to the One who is the source of all that is good.

Speaking of counting blessings, I want very much to thank you, the parishioners of St. Lawrence, for giving me, our parish staff, and one another so many things to be thankful for.  No parish is a perfect place, and there’s always plenty of room for growth in living the Christian life, sharing our resources with those in greatest need, deepening our commitment to prayer and the sacraments, and giving witness to our faith in the midst of an often hostile world.  But there is marvelous goodness, generosity, sacrifice, dedication, holiness, camaraderie, and joy here at SLM, and I want you to know how thankful I am for the privilege of serving as your pastor, and walking the path of discipleship alongside you. At Thanksgiving, and throughout the year, I want you to know how grateful I am for that opportunity.

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you, and happy Thanksgiving!

PS – If you can, please join us at 9:30 in church on Thanksgiving morning, to begin the day in the best possible way by worshiping around the Lord’s altar.

As I compose this column on the evening of Veterans’ Day, I’m smiling to think back to this morning, when sitting in my room at the rectory before Mass, I noticed the lightest and briefest of snowfalls outside my window.  I’m sure most of you caught it too.  If the sight of a few flakes zipping through the unusually cold and windswept air didn’t immediately lead to thoughts of scraping windshields and clearing driveways, I hope you enjoyed that brief incursion of winter into what’s become a very beautiful autumn.  I’m not eager to race from autumn into winter, even though there’s been plenty of red, green, and gold in the stores for weeks (months?) now, and I’ve already seen more than a few homes lit up for Christmas.  Even though the temptation is certainly there, I hope we don’t skip too hurriedly past the falling—or fallen—leaves, the light jackets, and the golden sunsets too quickly.  This season of Thanksgiving is too important on a psychological and spiritual level to be brushed aside in favor of getting a fast start toward December 25^th.     

Autumn can be a marvelous teacher.  Allow me to share with you a meditation a friend passed along to me many years ago.  It may be the work of Sr. Joyce Rupp (but I’m not positive about that) . . .

“The falling leaves dance the autumn dance beneath the great blue sky.  The leaves seem glad at the going, sparkling in the fall sunshine.  This gigantic death scene does not smell of sorrow and sadness, rather the earth is colored with joy, and the leaves make music in the wind. No new growth will come, unless autumn agrees to let go of what has been.    The same is true of our lives . . .

We cannot grow without change.  The life events that rip open the security of home, relationships, job, or personal beliefs are our “dying leaves.”  The more drastic the change, the more potential we have to discover another aspect of our inner selves that we haven’t known before.  Much of this growth depends on whether we give ourselves to the process   of change, or run from it with our fears and insecurities.

The fallen leaves help us appreciate with reverence everyone and everything that is part of our life as we are challenged to accept the truth of our own dying.  Perhaps this autumn we will not run from the reality of life’s necessary changes.  Perhaps we’ll walk through the leaves pondering the reality of the season, as we accept the dying leaves that need to fall from our life.  Above all, let us celebrate the season, for its message has the power to ripen us for the final harvest.”

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

PS – I want to extend a BIG thank-you to all our Parish Raffle ticket-takers!  The long-awaited drawing will take place Sunday afternoon, following the 11:00 AM Mass.  A whole lot of work has gone into this fundraiser, and the money the parish receives thanks to your generosity and spirit helps propel us through what’s left of 2025 and into the new year.  Thank you all so much!  Good luck!

Last Sunday, the Church celebrated the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed, better known as All Souls Day.  Whether it  falls on a weekday or a weekend, I’m always moved by that annual opportunity to lift our hearts and voices in prayer for those who have completed life’s journey.  We entrust them to the Lord’s tender mercy, in a spirit of confident hope that they will share in Christ’s resurrection and be welcomed to places of honor in our Father’s house.  Though All Souls Day invites us to pray for all who have died—and in particular for those being purified so as to enjoy the bliss of heaven—most of us naturally think of our own loved ones: spouses, parents and grandparents, relatives, friends, and perhaps even children whom we have lost.  We ask God to forgive their sins and failings, to make them radiant and new, and to take them into his strong arms.

The whole of this month of November is dedicated to our remembrance of the faithful departed—especially the holy souls in Purgatory—so we’ll continue to display the Book of Remembrance to the right of the sanctuary, and to keep your All Souls envelopes on the  altar till the end of the month.  And as our nation marks Veteran’s Day this Tuesday, November 11^th, we pray for all the men and women who have served in the armed forces  of the United States, certainly including those who have died.  May God bless them for their gift of service, and take those who have died home to paradise.

For those of you who may have a bit of time  on Tuesday morning, our seventh and eighth graders will be gathering in St. Lawrence Cemetery on Lakeland Ave., to pray the Rosary with Maria Davidson on such an important day of gratitude and remembrance.  All are welcome to join them at 10:00 AM.

Given the theme this column is taking, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank Mr. George Ferrer, the Director of our Parish Cemetery.  George has been a wonderful asset to our parish staff, bringing great skill and a depth of knowledge to his very important role, but always with a sensitivity and pastoral care that has no doubt been a real consolation to literally hundreds of grieving families.  George has expert and compassionate assistants in the Cemetery Office, and all of them together have helped those who suffer a loss here at St. Lawrence with a generous measure of patience, compassion, and understanding.  Whenever I drive past the cemetery—or spend some quiet time there—I’m always grateful for the solemn beauty of the place, and grateful for the people who are so dedicated to keeping it that way. Perhaps you might spend some time in our cemetery this month—whether you have a loved one buried there or not—and lift up a prayer for all who rest in that holy ground.  May the One who vanquished death by his own dying and rising beckon them home, and grant them peace!

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

If the liturgies of this first weekend in November seem strangely placed, it may be because the last time we observed All Saints Day on a Saturday, and All Souls Day on a Sunday was 11 years ago. 

All Saints Day remains a solemnity—the  highest rank a feast on the Church’s calendar can have—though Mass is not obligatory this year.  On All Saints we honor the countless men, women, and children who learned to love as Jesus commands us to, and—whether they happen to be canonized or not—are now rejoicing in heaven’s embrace, beholding God for eternity.  It was only several weeks ago that Pope Leo canonized two new saints—St. Carlo Acutis and St. Pier Giorgio Frassati.  St. Carlo was only 15 when he was diagnosed with and died from leukemia.  Given his age, and the appeal of a teenager being recognized for his extraordinary goodness and virtue, it’s not surprising his story has captivated millions around the world, both Catholics and non-Catholics alike.  Never forget that St. Carlo’s reward is OUR destiny too, from the moment of our baptism.  And on All Saints Day we not only celebrate those who’ve been welcomed into paradise; we also ask their prayers as we make our pilgrim way to the house of God our Father. 

This Sunday, November 2^nd is All Souls Day.  For centuries the Church has pointed to this particular day on the calendar as an especially opportune time to lift up our hearts in prayer for all our departed loved ones—indeed, for every human being who has crossed the threshold of death.  Like the liturgy of a funeral Mass, All Souls Day urges us to cling tightly to hope, even in the midst of the heartache, emptiness, and bewilderment that can come with grief.  Tears are a natural and very human response to loss, and the Lord himself was no stranger to the sadness of death (think of how he wept at the death of his friend, Lazarus).  But as Christians, we are called to trust that our 60 or 80 or 100 years of living in this present world are simply a foretaste of what God has planned for those who love him.  As St. Paul famously proclaims in his Letter to the Romans, nothing can separate us from the love of Christ—not age, not illness, not even death!  We are designed for eternity, and All Souls Day encourages us to pray for all who have gone ahead of us, asking that the Lord enfold them in mercy,  and carry them safely home. 

This Sunday, I invite you to pray for all those you have loved and lost (for a time).  The 9 AM Mass is our Family Mass for November, and at 11 AM we prayerfully recite the names of all our parishioners who have passed away over the course of the last year.  May these holy days renew our faith in the promise of Resurrection.  The One who promises is trustworthy!

And may our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

PS – Don’t forget we’ll be showing an excellent 90-minute film on St. Carlo Acutis next Sunday, right after the 11 AM Mass.

I’ve always been a big fan of those wonderful Peanuts animated specials that used to air on CBS (remember those days?).  The Christmas special is probably my favorite—some of you may remember I played Linus when I was in 8^th grade!—but Halloween is a close second.  While Linus is shivering in the pumpkin patch, waiting for the Great Pumpkin to arrive, his friends are trick-or-treating.  And for some reason, poor ol’ Charlie Brown keeps getting rocks in his bag instead of candy. 

The people of our parish are remarkably generous, and I’ve never found so much as a pebble in the collection basket!  That same generosity will be in evidence this weekend with the mountain of baby items brought to  church for our Baby Shower, the pints of blood donated at the K of C’s Blood Drive, and the shoeboxes already coming back with gifts for Operation Christmas Child. 

We didn’t advertise it well enough, but our parishioners who use envelopes should have received one earmarked for the Catholic Ministries Appeal.  If so, I hope you’ll drop that envelope in today’s regular collection. Every pledge made to the CMA—including my own—helps support the most vital parts of the Church’s mission, and the thousands of people right here on Long Island who benefit from our sacrifice. 

As of this update, we’ve received 83.3% of our $90,000 goal in pledges.  That’s a great deal of charitable giving, from a surprisingly small number of parishioners.  But if we’re to reach our goal and receive the kind of rebate we did last year, we still need $15,300 in pledges.  That figure looks daunting, but we can make it if many more parish households  contribute even a modest amount. 

If you haven’t made a pledge, would you please consider participating?  I realize SO many worthy charities are constantly tugging at us for help.  But I also believe the men, women, and children who benefit from the CMA are deserving!  Watch the quick video on our website to connect faces and stories to this campaign.  Take a donation pamphlet at the doors, or call (516) 678-5800 x 296, or go to www.catholicministriesappeal.org  And THANK YOU to everyone who’s already pledged to this year’s Appeal!

May our brother and patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

Time really does fly . . . We’ve already gone more than halfway through October, and I know most of our younger parishioners have already answered that all-important question: “What are you going to be for Halloween?”  October has always been one of my favorite months . . . I love the freshness in the air, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot (once they finally drop), the brilliant colors we’re starting to see in the trees, and the laughter of kids wandering from house to house dressed as goblins, princesses and stormtroopers.  With autumn in full swing, we have a number of special things in the works:

     This Sunday, we happily resume the Liturgy of the Word with Children!  You know the drill:  at most of the 9:00 Masses when we’re not celebrating a Family Mass, our young parishioners from grades 2-6 will be invited to march off to the Bethany Center to listen to the Scriptures and a reflection geared to their age level.  Let’s ask God to give us—children and adults alike—ears and hearts ready to listen to that life-changing Word.   

     Next weekend, as part of our observance of Respect Life Month we’re hosting a “Baby Shower” to support the Life Center of Long Island.  Please bring baby clothes, formula, diapers, layettes, etc. to lend your help to mothers and families in need.  Just look for the bassinette to the right of the sanctuary.   Also in support of life, our Knights will host a Blood Drive on Sunday the 26^th from 8 to 2.  During this month of October, we pray the blood donated might be especially helpful to women fighting breast cancer. 

     Our Columbiettes are putting finishing touches on an autumn brunch for senior parishioners after the 9 AM Mass on Wednesday, October 22^nd.

     We’ll present this year’s #1 faith-based documentary film, “Carlo Acutis: Roadmap to Reality” right after the 11:00 Mass on November 9^th.  St. Carlo was canonized on September 7^th, and has become phenomenally meaningful to teens and young people like himself, the world over.

     And what’s this business about “Advento”?  Advento is a junior angel—the creation of Mr. Glenn Gartung, whom I had the pleasure of meeting a few weeks ago.  Glenn is passionate about “keeping Christ in Christmas,” and has designed a genuinely beautiful item for families with young children.  It includes an original storybook revolving around the birth of Christ, a felt-board Advent calendar with all the familiar figures, and even a plush Advento doll whom parents can hide all around the house as the little angel helps your kids discover the Nativity figures and place them on the calendar.  (Yes, it’s kind of a Catholic version of the “Elf-on-the-Shelf”!)  Very clever, and beautifully crafted.  The sets will be on sale for $45 next weekend, as well as at hospitality on Nov. 2^nd. 

I’ve run out of space but please keep tabs on all that’s happening—and will be—in the festive weeks ahead. 

May our patron and brother, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

A Great Cloud of Witnesses

As part of my homily to our catechists at a special Mass back in September, I remarked that I really enjoy the rush of saints’ feast days that populate the calendar from late September through at least mid-October, many of those honored being among the most beloved of personalities in Christian history.  The “parade” begins around September 23^rd with St. Padre Pio, then 9/27 with the great patron of ministry to the poor—St. Vincent de Paul, followed by “Good King Wenceslaus” (9/28), the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael (9/29), St. Jerome, perhaps the most eminent Scripture scholar in the Church’s long history (9/30), St. Therese of Lisieux, the “Little Flower” (10/1), the Guardian Angels (10/2), St. Francis of Assisi (10/4), St. Faustina Kowalska (10/5), and Our Lady of the Rosary (10/7).  There’s a bit of a pause coming up, but then the round of feasts continue with St. Teresa of Avila, one of the Church’s great spiritual masters and a Doctor of the Church (10/15), St. Luke, the author of the third Gospel (10/18), and St. Isaac Jogues, St. John de Brebeuf and their companions—the North American martyrs (10/19).  It’s not that every month of the calendar doesn’t have its share of feast days of familiar saints, but this little stretch of the year always feels special to me in that regard—and certainly a reminder that “sainthood” is not only the calling of select men and women whom we visualize on prayer cards and in stained glass windows.  We are ALL called to be saints—each and every person baptized into Christ, without exception. 

Case in point:  the feast the Church marks for the very first time this Sunday, October 12^th—the feast of newly canonized Carlo Acutis.  If a photo of this curly-haired Italian teenager in jeans and sneakers with a backpack over his shoulders can’t convince us that sainthood is not reserved for a select group of popes, nuns, theologians and “Church-people,” I don’t know what can!

As we move through this saint-filled season toward the beautiful feast of All Saints on November 1^st, let’s pray that all God’s holy ones—the “great cloud of witnesses” of which the Letter to the Hebrews speaks—will hold us in their prayers    and cheer us on as we continue our own Christian pilgrimage. 

Help Still Needed

One of the big challenges we face year after year when it comes to our school building is keeping it as secure as possible.  The building is used 7 days a week for a good part of the year--between Faith Formation classes, CYO, AA meetings, and large parish functions.  The building also has plenty of doors, which are often left ajar or propped open, even with plenty of reminders going to the groups inside.  :(

Maria Davidson has assembled a fine team of volunteers to monitor the front lobby when Faith Formation classes are in session.  But their focus will be the front lobby, Monday through Wednesday.  With CYO basketball getting underway, we also need to give attention to the door at the rear of the gym.  It ought to be closed all the time, once players have entered for a practice or a game.  If you have some spare time--both weekdays and weekends will be needed--would you volunteer to sit inside that door to admit latecomers, and otherwise make sure the door stays closed?  The person "on duty" Thursday thru Sunday would also be asked to keep tabs on the front lobby, making sure those doors are secure as well.  The safety of our children is paramount.  If you think you can lend some time until we come up with a better solution, please contact the rectory office.  Thanks!

May St. Carlo Acutis, and our patron and brother, St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

Happy Feast of St. Francis!  (It's Saturday the 4^th).  May “Il Poverello” (the little poor man) from Assisi intercede for our violent and deeply troubled world, asking the Lord to make us all instruments of his peace. 

This weekend, we join parishes across Long Island, and throughout the country, in marking Respect Life Sunday—the beginning of an entire month dedicated to prayer, reflection, and activism on behalf of the broad spectrum of life-issues to which we’re asked to be especially attentive.  There are a number of special opportunities this month to sharpen our reverence for the mystery of human life from conception until natural death, and our responsibility to cherish not only the unborn, but every human person.  Among these opportunities: 

• today’s second collection, which helps support life-affirming initiatives, education, and resources in our Diocese through the Office of Human Life, Family, and Bioethics;
• a communal celebration of the Anointing of the Sick at 9:00 AM on October 12^th;
• 40 Days for Life Patchogue has organized a  Fall Pro-Life Witness that continues until November 2^nd.  If you choose, you can give prayerful witness on behalf of the unborn outside the Planned Parenthood clinic on Waverly Ave. in Patchogue
• register your opposition to the pending physician-assisted suicide bill by contacting Gov. Kathy Hochul; go to the link under “Headlines” on our website;
• a Baby Shower to benefit the Life Center of Long Island the weekend of October 25^th and 26^th

Let’s take every opportunity to pray deeply, to educate ourselves, and to inform our consciences on the whole array of life-issues confronting our nation and our world. 

This month of October has also long been a beautiful opportunity to honor Mary, the Virgin Mother of God.  Like the month of May, October affords us the chance to renew our devotion to this extraordinary woman of faith, and to ask her intercession for ourselves and for the world.    Many of you already enjoy a deep and trusting relationship with Mary.  I am always inspired by the fidelity and love that are so evident in the small group of parishioners who pray the Rosary following the 9:00 AM Mass during the week.  These men and women have come to value the Rosary greatly as an avenue to deepening their communion with the Lord, and his Blessed Mother.  For centuries, countless believers have used the Rosary as an exquisite tool for growing in their intimacy with Jesus—the Son of God, and Son of Mary. 

Some Catholics find it a challenge to pray the Rosary, or to turn to Mary as they press on in their own spiritual journey.  There are many paths to God, to be sure, but there are few if any Helpers readier to lend their comfort, support, courage, and solace to us than the one who carried the Lord in her womb.  Mary is thought of as the first and best disciple of Jesus, so who can offer us better example in how to give our hearts more completely to him than she?

No matter where your personal attachment to Mary is at the moment, perhaps this beautiful month will afford you a renewed incentive to reach out to the Mother of God, to trust in her maternal care for you, and those you love, and to cultivate a spiritual friendship with her that can only draw you nearer to her divine Son.  “Ad Jesum per Mariam.”

May our brothers, St. Francis of Assisi and St. Lawrence, pray for us!  God love you.

This weekend our Diocese once again celebrates Catechetical Sunday.  A catechist is someone charged with handing on the faith they themselves cherish, teaching not only what we believe as Catholics, but demonstrating how that belief can transform the way we live.  With our first graders registering in the gym last Sunday (the ice cream went over big!), and Faith Formation classes a little over a week away, we ask God to pour out his blessing on each and every person involved in one of the catechetical ministries at St. Lawrence. 

We naturally think of the parishioner standing in the midst of a class of third, or fifth, or eighth graders, with the hope of instilling a deeper knowledge of who Jesus is and how the children can come to know him, heart to heart.  We have ample reason to be proud of them, and grateful for  the extraordinary gift they give our children each time they begin a lesson.  I want to extend special thanks to the staff of our Office of Faith Formation: Maria Davidson, Jean Rico, and Anne-Marie Carnazza, who administer a very large program with such dedication, energy, and Christlike love for our youngest parishioners.

It's important to recognize too, that catechesis isn’t only taking place in the more formal setting of a classroom.  It’s also happening when Deacon Patrick spends an evening prepping new parents for the baptism of a son or daughter.  It happens when engaged couples participate in a program of marriage preparation—either online or through the Diocese--to help them understand more deeply the joys and challenges of the covenant they’re getting set to enter.  Catechesis is happening when non-Catholic adults approach our parish asking to join the Church, and enter into a months-long process of prayer, study, and reflection (“OCIA”) designed to ready them for full initiation in the Church at Easter.  Catechesis is happening when a study or prayer group meets in their home or here at the parish to delve more deeply into our faith; when a priest or deacon preaches a homily; or when a parade of our youngest parishioners marches out of church to listen to the Gospel during the Liturgy of the Word with Children (which we’ll be seeing soon!).

This weekend, let’s applaud and pray for all our dedicated catechists, grateful for the tremendously important role they play in instilling the faith in our children and young people, but conscious too that we are ALL called to teach by word and example what it means to hold Jesus at the center of our lives.

Those Second Collections

Last weekend, we returned to taking up an occasional second collection for an array of beneficiaries, both inside and outside our Diocese.  Last weekend’s collection supported the Catholic University of America in our nation’s capital, the only pontifical university in the United States.  This weekend, we have another (it’s unusual to have two in a row), but it’s one of the most critical we see from September through June.  It’s the collection in support of the St. Pius X Enriched Living Facility, where both Msgr. Candreva and Msgr. Heinlein spent the last part of their lives. St. Pius X is our residence for retired priests, as well as those recovering from illness or surgery.  Not long ago the residence moved from Amityville to the former Cenacle Retreat Center in Ronkonkoma.  If you haven’t received donation materials by mail, you can find extras on the tables by the doors. I sincerely thank all who continue to sustain our parish so generously, and I’m doubly thankful for the kind of charitable giving that will keep institutions like St. Pius X viable for years to come. 

May our patron and brother, St. Lawrence, pray for us!   God love you.

Last Sunday at the 9:00 Family Mass, we had a larger than usual group of kids sitting all around the sanctuary after the Gospel.  The turnout was a sizable one—despite some morning showers—in part because we’d invited our young people to bring their backpacks to Mass for a blessing at the start of a new school year.

I began by telling the kids that just the previous Friday, while visiting my mom in Huntington, the two of us went out for a drive.  It was sunny and breezy, and I drove just 10 minutes north to the beautiful town of Cold Spring Harbor.  I parked near a boat ramp, in a spot where you can look out over the water and enjoy the boats passing by and an occasional seagull. 

While we were sitting there in the car, I noticed a sign off to the side, near the ramp.  It was actually a bunch of signs on one long pole—the top one said “No Parking,” the bottom one said “No Fishing.”  But right in the middle was a white sign with bold red lettering that read, “Please Just Be Kind.”  That caught my attention!  What a beautiful sentiment to see posted in a very public place, on a sunny late summer afternoon.  I pointed it out to my mother, and hopped out of the car to take a picture.  Needless to say, it stayed with me enough to share with the children last Sunday, since my plan was to talk about what Jesus might want them to take to school.  Not just pencils, books. folders, a water bottle and lunch, but honesty, thoughtfulness, patience, forgiveness, generosity, and yes, lots of kindness.  I pray that as these early weeks of a “new year” speed by, we might all bring a firm resolve to practice kindness—among many other virtues—especially when the circumstances of daily life tempt us to speak and act otherwise. 

I would be remiss, of course, if I failed to mention the fact that Thursday marked the 24^th anniversary of September 11, 2001.  That date is forever seared into our national consciousness, and into the hearts of countless men, women, and children who were suddenly robbed of a loved one 24 years ago.  We remember the monstrous events of that otherwise beautiful September morning, when the blind hatred of evil men destroyed almost 3,000 innocent lives in lower Manhattan, Washington, D.C., and rural Pennsylvania.  Our nation and the larger world have never been the same . . . not only because of the staggering violence and loss of life, but also in view of the bravery, sacrifice and love that the attacks evoked in so many good people.  As a parish family, we join our fellow Americans and people of good will across the globe in grieving all who died that day, and the thousands more who have lost their health and their lives to 9/11 related injuries and illnesses in the decades since. 

We pray that our merciful God will touch survivors, relatives, friends, and responders with his tenderness, and bring them closer to healing.  And we pray that the mindless hatred and cruelty that persist in the world—plainly evident as recently as the shooting at Annunciation parish in Minneapolis—will give way to forbearance and lasting peace.  

May newly canonized Saints Carlo Acutis, Pier Giorgio Frassati, and our patron, St. Lawrence, pray for us.  God love you.

It’s hard to believe, but the summer came to an unofficial end last weekend with our observance of Labor Day.  The time seems to have flown by awfully fast, but I hope you’ve had the opportunity at some point over the past few months to enjoy the long days and warm temps, to downshift into a less harried pace, and to savor some of the lovely things that living here on Long Island affords us.

This past week brought the start of a new school year (ready or not!), and all the busyness and anticipation that comes with that fresh start.  I hope the following prayer helps put this new beginning into context, asking that all we are and all we do be encircled by God’s transforming love: