As many of you know, I just returned last weekend from a two week pilgrimage to Spain with parishioners. We walked in the footsteps of St. Ignatius, St. Teresa of Avila, and St. John of the Cross. We started out following St. John of the Cross in Segovia and Sevilla, beautiful cities, stunning, where John was buried, Segovia.

My mother used to have problems with some of my homilies, and she used to say so, "You are a bit light on judgment and a bit heavy on love." I would say, "God has more love than judgment." She would go, "Yeah." Then she would always end the argument, "Yeah, but that one who gets in at the end of time, who kind of just shows up with a conversion at the last moment, I think that is just a bit unfair!"

I remember 9-11, twenty-five years ago. I was in the rectory at St. Lawrence Parish, as that second plane crashed into the tower, and then watching the two towers burning. It is seared into my memory. Then the following hours of confusion and anger, and then eventually watching both buildings collapse. I remember every moment of it. It is as if it happened yesterday. I remember in particular the next day, those hours after, the sky was silent. It was eerie. There were no commercial airplanes flying anywhere for days. There was a deep sense of eeriness, and of shock and anger. In the days that followed, I remember how the anger rose up in the nation and demanded revenge.

When I was growing up in Ireland, you would turn on the tap and have water, just like you guys do, right? The difference is, in Ireland, there is no bill. Water is free. Never charged for it.

Human behavior scientists maintain that in order to change one’s behavior, the person who actually wants to change needs to desire to change. That sounds so obvious, right? If you want to change something, you have to actually want to change it.

I had the wonderful opportunity to visit my close friend and mentor, Monsignor Lloyd Torgerson. Lloyd is a towering figure in the American church, especially in Los Angeles. He is eighty-six years old, still pastor, and he has been pastor over thirty years. He is still as sharp as a tack. He has this wonderful way. He is so hospitable. He is such a generous human being. He meets me, and it is always the first thing he says: “Brendan, you are so wonderful. I love you.”