We should start with a simple question: how do you determine whether or not a particular medicine is effective?

If you have the occasional headache and taking half an aspirin once a month doesn’t seem to help, is it the aspirin’s fault?

Or you decide to down the whole bottle with a pint of Jack Daniels and you end up in the hospital, are you there because the aspirin doesn’t work?

Of course not.

Only long-time readers of this column know that I have commuted 67 miles (round trip) to work at Our Lady of Joy for the last 7+ years. In fact, the day I drove north for my job interview, I almost turned around somewhere near Pinnacle Peak Road. (I only kept driving because I am morally opposed to no-showing an interview.)

I arrived to find a beautiful setting, a holy pastor, and a committed staff. These factors—along with fulfilling work and some of the most amazing parishioners in the world—have kept me here ever since.

This week, our Gospel speaks of Jesus walking on water. It is another example of Jesus proclaiming his divinity.

Some might say, he was merely walking along the shore or on a sandbank. Those people are either ignorant of scripture or geography. Scripture tells us they were 3 or 4 miles from shore. In this part of that sea… that’s the middle. And at its center, the Sea of Galilee is over 140 feet deep.

Jesus said, “I AM,” while walking on water. He wasn’t saying, “I AM a good guy.”

This weekend, the Catholic Church focuses on the Transfiguration of the Lord. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain and something pretty cool happens.

“He was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him.”

Let’s get of the beaten path this week and take a stroll through the Psalm that was sung between the first and second readings.

“Lord, I love your commands,” is the line you’ll hear repeated. And it’s a pretty powerful on when you spend more than ten seconds pondering it.

Put yourself in the military (or for some of you—back in the military—thank you for your service). “I love your commands!” If you said this and meant it in the heat of battle, it would be a big step beyond merely following your training and obeying the chain of command. You would have to have found your commanding officer to be full of wisdom.

This week, our Gospel contains quite a few more parables. We get Jesus’ comparing the kingdom of God to a tny mustard seed that turns into a big “tree” - which, truth be told - looks like an unruly shrub that grows to ten feet before spreading horizontally.

Have you ever asked yourself why? Dr. Brant Pitre proposes it might be because it only takes a little faith to be welcomed into one’s heart and nurtured for it to take root. Then, in often messy ways, it grows and spreads all over the place.

And I propose one of the key words there is “messy.”

You’ve heard this Sunday’s Gospel before, but have you paid attention?

In the parable, we meet the worst gardener in the whole wide world. He’s throwing seeds on the path. He’s tossing seeds into the rocks. He’s sprinkling seeds into the thornbushes. And it is almost as if he gets lucky and hits a patch of fertile super-soil.

Then, he says the most curious thing of all: “Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately.

No. That isn’t entrely true. I’ve been what my rural family used to call “bone tired.”

I think it’s a combinaton of a few factors. I haven’t had a true vacation in eighteen months or so because all my vacation days were used up by back surgeries and subsequent recoveries. Layer over the top of it that my body is still dealing with the after-effects of the past year (including the rehab process.) Finally, add to all that my eagerness to make up for lost time contributing to family chores and projects.

Wake up. Get ready for work. Go to work (and if you are retired, you’ve replaced work with hobbies and commitments). Go home. Eat dinner. Get ready for bed. Sleep. Do it again four more times. Do chores and go to Mass on the weekend. Repeat 52 times a year.

In this world full of repetition, it is easy to feel as though we were made for more. And guess what? This weekend’s Gospel reading reminds us that we were!

Jesus is speaking to his closest followers—which is what we are called to be. He begins with priorities. He must come first. And this sounds like common sense until we remember this includes our families.

We live in a hurting world.

It is populated with the sick who are contending with chronic pain or illness. It is full of young people who resemble the walking dead as they crank their necks to stare at their phones and block the voices of family with earbuds so they can listen to the voices of strangers. It is inhabited by modern lepers who feel alone and isolated, believing the lie that no one cares about them. And there are those who fight demons of addiction and mental illness.

Our Catholic Church teaches that one of the greatest acts of love for another is sharing one’s body in complete vulnerability. “I love you. I trust you. I am yours completely.” Yet, in order to receive this act of love as intended, it cannot be separated from the commitment that is found in a sacrament—in this case, the sacrament of matrimony.

This act of freely entering into this holy sacrament strengthens both individuals and empowers them to serve the Lord throughout their time on Earth not only as individuals, but as a team bonded in Christ.

The world has lost its mind.

I know it might seem that I’m a bit late to the party when I write that, but a few articles I just came across really drove this point home for me.

In the first article, I read where Target is trying to walk the tightrope between appealing to our “anything goes” world, while also attempting to appease those of us still holding onto sanity with the tiniest of gestures. They are pulling a few items from their LGBTQ+ collection, while moving other items a bit further back into certain stores.