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Roger Karban

Ordained in Rome in 1964, Roger R. Karban is a priest of the Diocese of Belleville with scholarly expertise in the Sacred Scriptures. He received a Licentiate in Theology from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome and did his doctoral studies in Scripture at St. Louis University.

Karban has been the chair of religion departments at Mater Dei and Gibault Catholic High Schools; director of the diocesan diaconate program and is currently the administrator of Our Lady of Good Council Parish, Renault, IL. A part-time faculty member of St. Louis University and Southwestern Illinois College where he teaches the Bible as literature, Karban also teaches adult weekly scripture classes in Belleville, Breese, Carbondale and Lebanon, IL. With the vision of Vatican II, Karban presents workshops, not only in the diocese, but throughout the country.



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Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17 – 4:1; Luke 9:28b-36

How long can an insight last? All of us have a sudden flash of knowledge that we don’t reason to, but is suddenly there. One I distinctly remember occurred in the middle of a sophomore study hall almost 65 years ago. I’d always studied, even did all my homework. But I did these things just to get good grades. Then out of nowhere came the conviction that there’s something valuable in study itself, even if I never took another exam. That thought only lasted a split second, but it’s been guiding me all my life.

I bring up insights today because most Scripture scholars believe we’re dealing with an insight when we hear the gospel accounts of Jesus’ transfiguration. The narrative contains the classic trademarks of a biblical myth. For instance, it’s chuck full of biblical symbolism: the cloud, the voice, and the unique participants. Notice also that the name of the mountain isn’t mentioned; we can’t track down the geographic place. These elements – and others - seem to imply that the story is rooted in an insight many of Jesus’ followers experienced in their encounters with him. This particular itinerant preacher was unlike anyone they’d ever chanced upon.

In their minds Yahweh not only sent and confirmed this Galilean carpenter, but to follow his teachings and example placed one squarely in the middle of the teachings and example of the Hebrew Scriptures. The special person the Chosen People had anticipated since the days of the Exodus is in their midst right here and now. No matter how one put that insightful experience into words, their biblical attempts tell us some of Jesus’ few followers at least had a hint Jesus of Nazareth was the one.

Yet it’s clear from today’s second reading that no matter how intense the original insight, for some Christians that “illumination” eventually faded away. Due to Paul’s reference to “their stomach,” scholars believe the fallen-away Philippians to whom he refers could be within the community’s Christian Jews who have returned to keeping Judaism’s dietary regulations. Instead of giving themselves over to the ever-changing risen Jesus, they feel more secure in giving themselves over to a set of never changing concrete laws.

Our Jewish faith ancestors no doubt had parallel insights revolving around Yahweh at work in their daily lives. The historical Jesus certainly did. Today’s Genesis pericope reminds us they locked some of those insights into a covenant with Yahweh. When they’d gather to renew that agreement – as they did yearly during Passover - they’d recall those special moments. In the world before photographs and tape recorders, remembering them would be the only way to make them live again. In the case of the Passover, they would especially recall the moment when they realized for the first time that Yahweh, not a set of accidental circumstances, was freeing them from slavery.

Based on his Jewish heritage, Jesus also weaved his community’s insights into a covenant, an action especially to be remembered in their celebrations of the Eucharist. But as Paul warned the Philippians, unless people imitated him, they could fall into the same trap as those whose glory became their shame. We know from his letters, imitating Paul revolves around learning how to die and rise with Jesus.

From I Corinthians 11, there’s no doubt in the Apostle’s mind that the best place to experience that dying for others is in the community’s celebrations of the Lord’s Supper. If the celebration is done correctly – and we actually give ourselves to and for one another – there’s a great chance many of us will have frequent insights about the presence of the risen Jesus among us.

Afraid there just aren’t any lasting insights that come from mouthing empty rituals.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15; I Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12; Luke 13:1-9

Out of loyalty to Carrol Stuhlmueller, my beloved Scripture prof, I always include his unique explanation of the burning bush when I deal with Exodus 3. Unlike the vast majority of scholars, Carrol was convinced an angel wasn’t positioned that day along Moses’ path, waiting for him to reach a certain point, then notify another angel, “Cue the bush!” and the bush burst into flame. The late Scripture expert was convinced the bush always was on fire. The miracle in the narrative revolves around Moses seeing something everyone else overlooked. In the midst of a billion wilderness furze bushes, Moses alone notices the fire in one of them.

At some point of our lives, we stop looking. What passes before our eyes is so repetitious we no longer concentrate on it. We presume we’re just seeing a constant repeat of what we’ve seen before.

Paul reflects on that phenomenon in today’s I Corinthians passage. “Our ancestors were all under the cloud,” he writes, “and all passed through the sea . . . yet God was not pleased with most of them . . . .” In other words, not everyone who experiences Yahweh working in their lives notices Yahweh working in their lives.

Following an identical insight, Luke’s Jesus brings up something we’ve all experienced: God works almost the same way in everyone’s life – even in ways that are at times unjust. Rarely does there appear to be a “method to the madness.” It’s simply part of being alive.

Yet our sacred authors are convinced Yahweh normally communicates with the “seers,” those who notice God at work in those areas and those people most of us overlook. Precisely in those unnoticed places and individuals one learns more and more about who Yahweh is and what he/she is doing in our lives. We eventually learn Yahweh’s “name.”

Of course, the main drawback in seeing what others ignore is that we then have responsibilities others never assume. It initially never crosses our mind that God’s calling us to carry out a specific part of God’s will. Moses, for instance, in seeing the fire in the bush, quickly discovers the freedom all Israelites expect Yahweh to achieve for them will only come about when he personally takes a hand in winning it. He never counted on that. Instead of being in the audience, this wilderness shepherd now finds himself on the stage. He quickly regretted he didn’t lead his sheep down a different path that day.

Perhaps that’s why Luke ends today’s pericope with Jesus’ simile of the persistent fig tree grower. “I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future.” Though we insist on going through life blindly ignoring the meaning of our everyday encounters, we follow a God who frequently boasts about his/her patience with us. Faith isn’t either something one has or doesn’t have. It’s an ongoing process.

Among others, Paul recognizes movement in faith, else he wouldn’t have used Scripture the way he did. He refers to it as being an “example” in our lives; something that can be a teaching tool. The Apostle believes that unless we’re conscious of the examples God provides, we could end up “falling,” as some Corinthians already have.

Trained in much of my Catholic education to regard Scripture as simply a source of proof texts, I was as blind as those who never noticed fire in the Sinai bush. Certainly glad for the risen Christ’s patience with me. Still have a lot to see. But I’m glad my study of Scripture at least started me down a road in which I at least began to notice some of the fire God’s spirit has ignited in this book.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Joshua 5:9a, 10-12; II Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Those - like Jesus of Nazareth - who employ parables when they teach have a deliberate, specific agenda. For such people parables are more than just cute, memorable little stories. By integrating them into their teaching, they’re revealing their unique mentality.

Parables only come into play when teachers are trying to go beyond just providing more information or facts to their students. They’re a sign teachers are interested in changing the way their students process all the information and facts entering their brains. A parable is a means to retool one’s frame of mind, telling the recipient, “You can’t get to where I am from where you are. Unless you drastically change the way you look at reality, you’ll never understand what I’m saying.”

A parable traps the listener to sign off on something he or she normally would never accept. When, for instance, Jesus is criticized in Mark 4 for wasting his time preaching to the crowds, he quickly comes up with a parable about a farmer sowing seed. If he stopped sowing just because the process wasted most of the seed, we’d have no bread. It all depends on how you look at it.

Today’s Lucan parable of the prodigal father accomplishes something similar. Triggered by those in the evangelist’s community who can always be counted on to come up with logical reasons for putting limits on their forgiveness of others, the gospel Jesus reframes the issue into a death and life situation. “Your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.” Looking at the younger son’s behavior from that perspective, what father – and what Christian - wouldn’t throw legalities to the wind? We’re dealing with a whole new ball game.

One of the problems we face today is that once Jesus’ parables were lifted from their original contexts and “allegorized,” they lost a lot of their kick. Rarely do they demand a 180-degree turnabout in the way we think. Yet, as Paul mentions in our II Corinthians pericope, Christians always presume they must develop a new frame of mind. Why? Because the person we imitate is himself or herself a “new creation.” The risen Jesus is unlike anyone we’ve encountered. If we approach that unique person with the same mentality we approach everyone else, we’ll never develop into other Christs; never scratch the surface of the “righteousness of God.”

Just as things changed when the Israelites celebrated their first Passover in the Promised Land, so if we really want to appreciate the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, we must change our value system. That transformation is what the Galilean carpenter insists upon when he commands his followers, “Repent!”

It’s sadly clear that we’ve resisted this change through the centuries. Instead of developing the mindset of the risen Jesus, we’ve successfully squeezed his teachings into our mindset, lopping off an ear there, a leg here, until it fits. How can we possibly carry on his “ministry of reconciliation” unless we first accept the uniqueness of that ministry?

As important as today’s gospel pericope is in our imitation of Jesus, do you realize that, before the 1970 lectionary reforms, this passage was never proclaimed during a Sunday liturgy? Unless we heard it during a religion class (as I did) or in a retreat conference, we could have gone a lifetime not knowing it exists. And though I did know about it, for some reason I don’t remember anything ever being said about the prodigal father’s key older son – the person whose mindset triggered the parable’s creation.

Even today the vast majority of Scripture is never found in a liturgical setting.

Don’t you wonder what else is “out there”?


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Isaiah 43:16-21; Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

Though scholars are convinced today’s gospel passage originally wasn’t included in our Christian Scriptures – that’s why modern translations often relegate it to the footnotes – it still contains a key tenet of our faith: we should forgive others because we’ve first been forgiven. Perhaps it’s one of those stories that Fiddler on the Roof’s Tevye includes in his statement, “If it isn’t in the Good Book, it should be there.” Compared to our first two readings, it doesn’t need much explanation.

On the other hand, both our Deutero-Isaiah pericope and Paul’s Philippians verses open the door to reflecting on things we often overlook.

I encountered a woman once who assured me she’d been saved; even provided me the exact date on which the event happened. Though I envied her certainty, I don’t know Deutero-Isaiah and Paul would agree with her extreme confidence. Both regard God’s working in their lives as an ongoing process. As long as we breathe, it’s never over.

This is especially clear in Deutero-Isaiah. Though they rarely show up in translations, he constantly employs participles in order to show God’s ongoing work in our lives. For instance, the first verse of today’s passage literally reads, “Opening a path in the mighty waters . . . leading out chariots and horsemen.” What Yahweh once did, Yahweh continues to do. The exiled Israelites to whom he prophesied, presumed Yahweh’s glory days were far behind him/her. One of the prophet’s objectives is to demonstrate those special days are still happening, even during his audience’s lifetime.

That insight leads to one of Scripture’s most powerful verses. “Remember not,” Yahweh insists, “the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” True prophets can’t depict Yahweh by pinning a still photograph to the wall. If your Yahweh’s not moving and constantly doing new things, it’s not Yahweh. You’ve been given the wrong bill of sales.

Yet Paul of Tarsus is not only convinced that Yahweh moves, he assures us that those who follow the risen Christ also move. His discipleship forces him to go from one stage of life to another, all the time becoming more one with the person he imitates, until he eventually attains the new life Jesus has attained.

In one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture, the Apostle admits to something that the already saved woman I encountered never seems to have experienced. “It is not that I have already taken hold of it or have already attained perfect maturity, but I continue my pursuit in hope that I may possess it, since I have indeed been taken possession of by Christ Jesus.”

For other Christs, there’s always another door to open, one more road to travel, a new person to encounter. My Grandpa Karban once shared a bit of his years of experience with me. “Roger,” he warned, “the day you have nothing to do is the day you die.” The older I get, the more I appreciate his advice, though through the years I’ve discovered it’s hard not to die before I die.

Perhaps that’s why it’s important to understand what Paul means by having been “possessed” by Christ. Of course he wants to possess his resurrection, but he realizes that before he can pull that off, he must first share in “his sufferings by being conformed to his death.” If Christ possesses him, it’s only because Christ has taught him to die. That’s why the two passion narratives which will be proclaimed next week on Passion Sunday and Good Friday are so important. If we don’t know how he dies, we won’t know how we’re to die. We might end up saved, but never “possessed.”


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Isaiah 50:4-7; Philippians 2:6-11; Luke 22:14-23:56

One reason we have four gospels and not just one revolves around the early Christian conviction that there’s more than one way to experience the risen Jesus in our lives. This is especially true when it comes to the gospel Passion Narratives. Each narrative provides us with a different dimension of Jesus’ dying and rising; a different way for each of us to become another Christ.

Our sacred authors didn’t think the way we do. We basically analyze when we think, tearing the object of our thought apart, imitating the classic Greek philosophers whose goal was always to come up with an either/or answer for any problem. Our biblical writers, on the other hand, thought semitically, not Greek. Instead of analyzing, they synthesized; instead of eventually reaching an either/or conclusion, their thought process always finished with a both/and pronouncement, constantly providing at least several ways of looking at the same person or situation. One of the classic Jewish sayings is, “Where three rabbis are discussing theology there are always at least five theological opinions on the floor.” After my own course in rabbinics I was convinced it’s impossible to flunk a true/false exam on the subject. No matter the “correct” answer, you can always surface a rabbi who holds the opposite opinion.

Since Semites, not Greeks, wrote and passed on our gospels, we have four of them, not one.

For instance, this year on Palm Sunday we’ll hear Luke’s unique take on the suffering Jesus. Unlike the other three evangelists, he constantly zeros in on Jesus’ concern for others, giving us several passages we don’t find in Mark, Matthew and John. He’s not content just to show the impact of Jesus’ suffering and death on himself, but he also stresses Jesus’ concern for how his pain affects others.

Only Luke’s Jesus heals the ear of the high priest’s arresting servant, makes eye contact with Peter after his denial, comforts the women mourning his impending crucifixion along the road to Golgotha, and assures the “good” thief, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” Though scholars debate whether the famous line, “Father, forgive them they know not what they do,” was originally in Luke’s gospel or is a latter addition, it’s significant that if the latter, the guilty scribe added it to Luke’s gospel and not to one of the other three. It’s the only gospel in which it fits. (As Fiddler on the Roof’s Tevye would say, “If it isn’t in there, it should be!”)

Luke’s theology was certainly triggered by Paul’s advice to the Philippians, “Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus.” (Why these words were left out of the Apostle’s introduction to today’s liturgical passage blows my mind.) Acquiring Jesus’ unique mentality is the goal of all his followers. Why else would the Christian Scriptures been written and saved? If our mindset isn’t his/her mindset, how can we dare call ourselves other Christs? The emptying of ourselves – as it was for Jesus - is an ongoing process. It doesn’t stop until we experience our own resurrections.

Deutero-Isaiah tells us exactly how we’re to empty ourselves: by listening for Yahweh’s word every morning, even before our feet hit the floor. Carrol Stuhlmueller always stressed there’s no better biblical definition of a disciple. God’s always talking, but only those who make an effort to listen actually hear his/her voice.

As I mentioned above, there’s no one way to listen or one group to whom we’re to listen. Carrol once mentioned that if he told me who God’s prophets are for him and his list got around, he’d never be permitted in another Catholic pulpit the rest of his life.

Afraid he took his list to eternity with him.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; I Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15

Our ancestors in the faith could never have understood why so few of us participate in tonight’s liturgy. It was one of the highlights of their liturgical year. So many longed to take part in tonight’s celebration that the community’s penitents who had completed their years of penance were usually absolved on Holy Thursday morning so they could once again join in tonight’s festivities. (They were forbidden to participate in the Eucharist while they were still completing their penances.)

It’s not only on this night that we have so few Eucharistic participants. We’ve experienced similar drop-offs in all our weekend parish celebrations. Church after church constantly cuts back on the number of its Eucharists. The diminished numbers can’t be blamed solely on the ongoing priest shortage. In a great part, this appalling situation comes from the way we celebrate the Lord’s Supper. Tonight’s second and third readings tell us this has been a problem from Christianity’s earliest days. In both passages, Paul and John are concerned with the community’s “freeloaders” who refuse to die with Jesus during the celebration.

Biblical references to the Breaking of Bread have nothing to do with a special person saying special words over unleavened bread and grape wine. From the disciples sharing their bread with the crowd to Jesus’ last meal with his followers, whenever the Eucharist biblically comes up or is referred to – except for John 6 - the sacred author’s message always revolves around giving yourself or what belongs to you to others.

The second half of I Corinthians 11 is triggered by some of the wealthy in the local church refusing to share their Eucharistic food and drink with the poor. Through various gimmicks, they avoid taking part in the early celebrations’ potluck format. That’s why Paul reminds his readers that the original reason they “ate this bread and drank this cup” was “to proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.” They weren’t there to “get graces” by receiving communion or to fulfill a church regulation to “go to Sunday Mass.” Their presence at the Eucharist was to somehow show their determination to die with Jesus. One way the Corinthians demonstrated this determination was to share their food and drink with those who had nothing. Only when they died by recognizing the risen Jesus in all around them, did the risen Jesus also become present in the bread and wine.

John, on the other hand, experiences that same death in the community’s service to one another. In their culture, nothing demonstrated their giving better than washing one another’s feet. Such a demeaning action was usually a job for slaves. No wonder Peter, the leader of the apostolic community, initially refuses to take part in such a ritual. It’s far below his dignity. (A friend once pointed out that its neigh on impossible to wash someone’s feet while you’re standing on a pedestal.) The gospel Jesus is basically telling Simon, “It’s my way or the highway!” There are no limits to how far we’ll go in giving ourselves to others.

Obviously we’ve got to change this ridiculous new translation that’s been foisted on us. (Even Pope Francis agrees!) And we must acquaint ourselves with the history of the Eucharistic celebration. Once we do we’ll see how absurd it is to ring bells during the celebration or zero in on the elevation. But more than anything, we again must find ways to give ourselves to one another during the Lord’s Supper. We should die in more ways than just suffering through meaningless rituals. Once we surface and implement meaningful ways to give ourselves, I presume we’ll again have to worry about turning people away from our Eucharistic celebrations, not attracting individuals to them.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222

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Each archive file has two articles with the most recent at the bottom.

2019 Essays
April 14 & 18, 2019
March 31 & April 7, 2019
March 17 & 24, 2019
March 3 & 10, 2019
February 17 & 24, 2019
February 3 & 10, 2019
January 20 & 27, 2019
January 6 & 13, 2019

2018 Essays

December 25 & 30, 2018
December 16 & 23, 2018
December 2 & 9, 2018
November 18 & 25, 2018
November 4 & 11, 2018
October 21 & 28, 2018
October 7 & 14, 2018
September 23 & 30, 2018
September 9 & 16, 2018
August 26 & September 2, 2018
August 12 & 19, 2018
July 29 & August 5, 2018
July 15 & 22, 2018
July 1 & 8, 2018
June 17 & 24, 2018
June 3 & 10, 2018
May 20 & 27, 2018
May 10 & 13 2018
April 29 & May 6, 2018
April 15 & 22, 2018
March 31 (vigil) & April, 2018
March 25 & 29, 2018
March 11 & 18, 2018
February 25 & March 4, 2018
February 11 & 18, 2018
January 28 & February 4, 2018
January 14 & 21, 2018

2017 Essays

December 31, 2017, & January 7, 2018
December 24 & 25, 2017
December 10 & 17, 2017
November 26 & December 3, 2017
November 12 & 19, 2017
October 29 & November 5, 2017
October 15 & 22, 2017
October 1 & 8, 2017
September 17 & 24, 2017
September 3 & 10, 2017
August 20 & 27, 2017
August 6 & 13, 2017
July 23 & 30, 2017
July 9 & 16, 2017
June 25 & July 2, 2017
June 11 & 18, 2017
May 28 & June 4, 2017
May 21 & 25 or 28, 2017
May 7 & 14, 2017
April 23 & 30, 2017
April 13 & 15(vigil), 2017
April 2 & 9, 2017
March 19 & 26, 2017
March 5 & 12, 2017
February 19 & 26, 2017
February 5 & 12, 2017
January 22 & 29, 2017
January 8 & 15, 2017

2016 Essays

December 25, 2016, & January 1, 2017
December 11 & 18, 2016
November 27 & December 4, 2016
November 13 & 20, 2016
October 30 & November 6, 2016
October 16 & 23, 2016
October 2 & 9, 2016
September 18 & 25, 2016
September 4 & 11, 2016
August 21 & 28, 2016
August 7 & 14, 2016
July 24 & 31, 2016
July 10 & 17, 2016
June 26 and July 3, 2016
Jun 12 & June 19, 2016
May 29 & June 5, 2016
May 15 & May 22, 2016
May 5 & May 8, 2016
April 24 & May 1, 2016
April 10 & April 17, 2016
March 27 and April 3, 2016
March 24 & 26, 2016
March 13 & 20, 2016
February 28 and March 6, 2016
February 14 and 21, 2016
January 31 and February 7, 2016
January 17 and 24, 2016
January 3 and 10, 2016

2015 Essays
December 25 and 27, 2015
December 13, 20 and 25, 2015
November 29 and December 6, 2015
November 15 and 22, 2015
November 1 and 8, 2015
October 18 and 25, 2015
October 4 and 11, 2015
September 20 and 27, 2015
September 6 and 13, 2015
August 23 and 30, 2015
August 9 and 16, 2015
July 26 and August 2, 2015
July 12 and 19, 2015
June 28 and July 5, 2015
June 14 and 21, 2015
May 31 and June 7, 2015
May 17 and 24, 2015
May 10 and May 14 or 17, 2015
April 26 and May 3, 2015
April 12 and 19, 2015
April 4 and 5, 2015
March 29 and April 2, 2015
March 15 and 22, 2015
March 1 and 8, 2015
February 15 and 22, 2015
February 1 and 8, 2015
January 18 and 25, 2015
January 4 and 11, 2015

2014 Essays
December 25 & 28, 2014
December 14 & 21, 2014
November 30 & December 7, 2014
November 16 & 23, 2014
November 2 and 9, 2014
October 19 & 26, 2014
October 5 & 12, 2014
September 21 & 28, 2014
September 7 & 14, 2014
August 24 and 31, 2014
August 10 and 17, 2014
July 27 and August 3, 2014
July 13 and July 20, 2014
June 29 and July 6, 2014
June 15 and June 22, 2014
June 1 and June 8, 2014
May 25 and May 29, 2014
May 11 and May 18, 2014
April 27 and May 4, 2014
April 19 & 20, 2014
April 13 & 17, 2014
March 30 & April 6, 2014
March 16 & 23, 2014
March 2 & 9, 2014
February 16 & 23, 2014
February 2 & 9, 2014
January 19 & 26, 2014
January 5 & 12, 2014

2013 Essays
December 25 & 29, 2013
December 15 & 22, 2013
December 1 & 8, 2013
November 17 & 24, 2013
November 3 & 10, 2013
October 20 and 27, 2013
October 6 and 13, 2013
September 22 and 29, 2013
September 8 and 15, 2013
August 25 and September 1, 2013
August 11 and 18, 2013
July 28 and August 4, 2013
July 14 and 21, 2013
June 30 and July 7, 2013
Jun 16 & 23, 2013
Jun 2 & 9, 2013
May 19 & 26, 2013
May 9 & 12, 2013
April 28 and May 5, 2013
April 14 and 21, 2013
March 30 and April 7, 2013
March 24 and 28, 2013
March 10 and 17, 2013
February 24 and March 3, 2013
February 10 and 17, 2013
January 27 and February 3, 2013
January 13 and 20, 2013
December 30, 2012, and January 6, 2013

2012 Essays
December 23 & 25, 2012
December 9 & 16, 2012
November 25 and December 2, 2012
November 11 and 18, 2012
October 28 and November 4, 2012
October 14 and October 21, 2012
September 30 and October 7, 2012
September 16 and September 23, 2012
September 2 and September 9, 2012
August 19 and August 26, 2012
August 5 and August 12, 2012
July 22 and July 29, 2012
July 8 and July 15, 2012
June 24 and July 1, 2012
June 10 and 17, 2012
May 27 and June 3, 2012
May 17 and May 20, 2012
May 6 and May 13, 2012
April 22 and April 29, 2012
April 7 (Easter Vigil) and April 15, 2012
March 25 and April 1, 2012
March 11 and March 18, 2012
February 26 and March 4, 2012
February 12 and February 19, 2012
January 29 and February 5, 2012
January 15 and January 22, 2012
January 1 and January 8, 2012

2011 Essays
December 18 and December 25, 2011
December 4 and December 11, 2011
November 20 and November 27, 2011
November 6 and November 13, 2011
October 23 and October 30, 2011
October 9 and October 16, 2011
September 25 and October 2, 2011
September 18, 2011
September 4, 2011
August 21, 2011
August 07, 2011
July 24, 2011
July 10, 2011
June 26, 2011
June 12, 2011
June 6, 2011
May 22, 2011
May 5, 2011
April 10, 2011
May 8th, 2011
April 24, 2011
April 3, 2011
March 20, 2011
March 6, 2011
February 20, 2011
February 6, 2011
January 30, 2011
January 16, 2011
January 2, 2011

2010 Essays
December 25, 2010
December 10, 2010
November 28, 2010
November 14, 2010



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