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Roger Karban

Ordained in Rome in 1964, Roger R. Karban was a priest of the Diocese of Belleville, Illinois, until his death, July 10, 2020, at age 80. He received a Licentiate in Theology from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome and did his doctoral studies in Scripture at St. Louis University, the genrously and widely shared his scholarly expertise in the Sacred Scriptures.

Karban was the chair of religion departments at Mater Dei and Gibault Catholic High Schools, director of the diocesan diaconate program and the administrator of Our Lady of Good Council Parish, Renault, IL.

A part-time faculty member of St. Louis University and Southwestern Illinois College, he taught the Bible as literature.He also teaches adult weekly scripture classes in Belleville, Breese, Carbondale and Lebanon, IL, and with the vision of Vatican II, Karban presented workshops, not only in the diocese, but throughout the country.

FOSIL is determined to keep archives of his teachings online indefinitely.



Roger's Essays

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I Kings 3:5, 7-12; Romans 8:28-30; Matthew 13:44-52

Author and speaker John Shea frequently reminds his audiences that the historical Jesus' ministry revolved around three questions. What do you want out of life? Where do you get it? How much does it cost?

This Galilean carpenter certainly wasn't the first biblical person to get involved with those three topics.

In our I Kings passage, Yahweh asks Solomon what he wants out of life. Surprisingly the king responds, “Give your servant an understanding heart.” Should Yahweh have problems with the term, Solomon quickly defines such a heart. It's the ability “to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.”

Scholars who deal with biblical Wisdom Literature — Psalms, Proverbs, etc. — contend that those with understanding hearts are wise in the scriptural sense. They can perceive God at work in their world, and know how they should respond to his/her presence. Three thousand years ago, our sacred authors believed people thought not with their brains, but with their hearts. (Their emotions, on the other hand, originated in their kidneys, not their hearts. That's why, for instance, lovers referred to one another as my “sweet kidney” and gave kidney shaped boxes of chocolates on Valentine's Day.) Truly wise persons have geared their hearts to think the way Yahweh wants and expects them to think.

In some sense, that's how the evangelist Matthew conceives of himself. He actually shares an Alfred Hitchcock moment with us in today's pericope. Just as the famous director suddenly shows up in almost all his movies, so Matthew shows up in his gospel. He's the “. . . scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven . . . the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.”

As a good Jew, his storeroom of faith overflows with the “old,” as a good follower of Jesus, he's also involved with the “new,” constantly experiencing the “kingdom of heaven” in his everyday life. Finding the risen Jesus working effectively in all he does and everyone he encounters can only be compared to discovering a buried treasure or coming upon a pearl of great price. Both fulfill the dreams of a lifetime.

Yet even when we eventually surface that “thing” for which we've spent our lives searching, we still have to deal with the price for acquiring it. Paul pulls no punches when it comes to the cost. In today's second reading, he reminds the church in Rome that we have to be “. . . conformed to the image of God's Son.” In other words, in order to be “justified,” we must become other Christs. That's the only way we can be certain we're doing what God wants us to do, that we actually have an understanding heart. Though we believe “all things work for good for those who love God,” that only happens to those who give themselves over to dying and rising with Jesus — the price God demands.

Among other things, that means we have to commit ourselves to working with a “mixed net;” we can't just work with those who, like us, are trying to do what God expects us to do. But we're not only to just work with the “wicked,” we're to constantly give ourselves to them. It doesn't matter if our love is returned or rejected, it must always be given. That's part of the cost of conforming ourselves to the image of God's Son.

Obviously paying such a price isn't something we take care of once a lifetime, then forget about it. We not only pay it every day, we discover it changes every day. On the other hand, we also discover a new treasure every day, a constantly changing treasure.

(Originally publshed 2014; this Sunday was supplanted by a feast day in 2017)

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



Isaiah 55:1-3; Romans 8:35, 37-39; Matthew 14:13-21

It's a shame many who listen to today's well–known gospel pericope won't get the message Matthew originally intended us to get. To hear what the evangelist expected us to hear, we must point out two frequently overlooked elements in this passage.

First, this miracle, like all gospel bread miracles, is about the Eucharist. (In John 6 Jesus even institutes the Eucharist during the miracle, not at the Last Supper.) It's the only miracle narrated in all four gospels — a total of six times. The early Christian community was convinced that what happened that day had something to do with their celebrations of the breaking of bread.

Second, Jesus doesn't feed the people; his disciples do. He only insists, “Give them some food yourselves,” then blesses their small collection of bread and fish, and finally returns the paltry fare “to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.” Because of his followers' generous sharing of their food, “all ate and were satisfied.”

When Scripture scholars talk about a biblical Eucharist, they certainly don't have today's celebration of “Mass” in mind: an event in which a liturgically attired and officially ordained man enters a specially constructed “sacred space,” and recites specific words over elements of bread and wine, transforming them into Jesus' body and blood.

We know from I Corinthians 11 that when Jesus' first followers gathered to celebrate the Lord's Supper they simply shared a potluck meal during which their recognition of themselves and one another as the body of Christ also caused them to recognize the risen Jesus in the bread and wine they consumed. This recognition only happened because they died enough to become one with everyone around them. They literally gave themselves on various levels to one another.

The heart of a biblical Eucharist doesn't lie in special words or special people reciting them, it revolves around a special giving of themselves by all who participate in this exceptional meal. That's why today's gospel Jesus is forced to overcome his disciples' logical complaint that they don't have enough to share.

That leads us to the next question: what do any of us have that we can share with others during the Lord's Supper? The vast majority of us aren't professional theologians, musicians or counselors, and since we no longer participate in a potluck meal, we can't even share our favorite recipes.

It would be helpful if our parishes at least had dialogue homilies and open Prayers of the Faithful. But no liturgical regulation can stop us from being totally open to all around us. Those who receive such a personal, generous gift know what Deutero–Isaiah is talking about when he quotes Yahweh encouraging those “who are thirsty to come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat!” There's no charge. We have no idea what basic needs we fulfill when we simply give ourselves enough to make all feel welcome.

No wonder Paul is so convinced that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. He knew nothing can separate us from the love of the Body of Christ, present and giving during the Eucharist.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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



I Kings 19:9a, 11-13a; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:22-33

Today's three readings are quite disturbing. They surface things many of us would rather keep under a theological lock and key. Perhaps some of the stuff we learned in catechism class “ain't necessarily so.”

The “thing” in our first reading occurs immediately after today's liturgical passage. It's consoling to us believers to know that Yahweh speaks to Elijah not in wind, an earthquake, and fire, but in “a tiny whispering breeze.” Couldn't be a more pleasant encounter. Yet what God asks the prophet in this specific situation is more than unsettling. He/she demands to know, “What are you doing here?”

Elijah is running away from Jezebel, the Israelite Queen who's put a contract out on his life. Thankfully, Yahweh helped him escape to Mount Horeb (Sinai) by providing him with sufficient food and water to trek 40 days and 40 nights through the wilderness. But now God abruptly informs him he shouldn't be there. He insists the prophet return to Israel and forcibly confront this idolatrous queen. After giving him the means to get to Horeb, Yahweh insists he's in the wrong place!

Did something parallel ever happen to you? Is it possible for God to change God's mind?

We know from today's Romans pericope that something parallel did happen to Paul of Tarsus. He's spent a lifetime trying to be as good a Jew as he could possibly be, adhering to all the Mosaic 613 laws. Yet through his experience of the risen Jesus, he's discovered God wants him to go beyond those regulations and become another Christ. Justification — doing what God wants you to do — has taken on a completely new meaning for this Apostle to the Gentiles.

Yet Paul claims he would be willing to give up all those saving insights and be “cut off from Christ” if only his fellow Jews would embrace this unexpected path to justification. With countless acts of anti–Semitism in our not too distant Christian past, it's difficult for us to appreciate Paul's frame of mind. That's simply not how a lot of us were “brought up.” To say our faith springs from and revolves around Judaism is an understatement. But it's something few of us have ever been encouraged to explore.

Neither have we Catholics been encouraged to explore Peter's sinking in today's gospel pericope. Accustomed to applying just one biblical verse to the leader of the Twelve — Matthew 16:18: “You're the rock and on this rock I'm going to build my church!” — we conveniently forget the other things said to Peter in the Christian Scriptures. Things like, “Get behind me, Satan!” or today's statement, “O you of little faith.”

Our evangelists had no idea this poor, probably illiterate fisherman would one day morph into the first Roman Catholic infallible pope. As I mentioned above, he functions as the gospel leader of the Twelve. But no one originally thought of that group as the church's first bishops. They were simply a classic symbol of the historical Jesus' plan to offer his reform to all of Israel's twelve tribes. For this Galilean carpenter, the tribe of Naphtali was just as important as the tribe of Judah. And he demonstrated that conviction by traveling around with the Twelve: a group meant to bring back memories of the twelve sons of Jacob.

Matthew believes anyone — even Peter — can eventually stop focusing on Jesus and make other things a priority. When that happens, the person begins to sink, overwhelmed by those other things.

It's interesting today that we once again have a pope — Francis — who personally focuses on Jesus, and challenges us to do the same. No wonder he faces opposition. We're a little out of practice. Many of us simply haven't done that for a while.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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



Isaiah 56:1, 6-7; Romans 11:13-15, 29-32; Matthew 15:21-28

Many of us have never noticed that Paul of Tarsus employs Tom Sawyer methodology in his evangelization of his fellow Jews. Yet he's perfectly clear about it in today's Roman's passage. “Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles,” the Apostle confesses, “I glory in my ministry in order to make my race jealous and thus save some of them.”

Mark Twain's hero finagles his friends into whitewashing a fence by pretending to enjoy his work so much that they eventually beg him to let them do it. In similar way, Paul tells the church in Rome that the basic reason he's preaching the risen Jesus to non–Jews is to make Jews so jealous that they'll beg him to convert them also. Once they see how Gentiles' lives are changed for the better by living the faith of Jesus, simple jealousy will drive them to demand to know about that same faith.

It's somewhat embarrassing to us Gentiles to discover we weren't originally Paul's priority. He only turned to us because of his dedication to his fellow Jews. After they rejected his message, he had no other choice. He felt forced to demonstrate that Jesus' way to salvation actually worked by ingeniously having non–Jews show Jews that it worked. Though many of us falsely presume the gospel Jesus rejected Judaism in favor of Christianity, Paul couldn't be clearer. “The gifts and the call of God are irrevocable . . . You (Gentiles) have now received mercy because of their (the Jews') disobedience . . . .” But eventually, in spite of their disobedience, they also will receive mercy.

Matthew's Jesus also is clear about the Gentile/Jew issue. When, in today's pericope, a Gentile woman asks him to cure her possessed daughter, he initially refuses, stating, “I was sent only for the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” In other words, “You Gentiles don't fit into my job description.”

Jesus eventually cures the girl — triggered by one of the best comebacks in all of Scripture — but he never says he's changed his priorities. Though open to non–Jews, he plans on reforming Judaism, not replacing it.

He's not alone in that pursuit. He has some rather well–known predecessors, including Third–Isaiah, the author of today's first reading. Active shortly after Israel's 6th century BCE Babylonian Exile, this open–minded, reforming prophet actually envisions a day when Gentiles, adhering to the Mosaic Law, will participate in Jewish rituals. But as far as we can tell, to offer “burnt offerings and sacrifices,” these non–Jews will have to convert to Judaism. (Something many early Christians also expected of Gentiles who converted to Christianity.)

Paul of Tarsus is unique. He's convinced we follow not the historical but the risen Jesus; the Jesus who is neither slave nor free, Jew nor Gentile, male nor female. We don't have to be free, Jewish males to be other Christs. Even Gentile, female slaves can make that transformation. In Paul's “liberal” theology, Gentiles can be Christians without first converting to Judaism. It's those Gentile Christians whom he presumes will make his fellow Jews jealous enough to also become other Christs.

Just one problem. I personally know of no Jew who, during my lifetime, converted to Christianity. Very few ever do. We've traditionally blamed Jews for that situation, at one time even liturgically referring to them as “perfidious.” Yet, following Paul's theology, we Gentile Christians are the ones to blame. If Jews haven't converted in large numbers to the faith of Jesus, it's our fault. We haven't lived our faith intensely enough to make them jealous.

Embarrassing as it might be, we non–Jewish Christians might be perfidious, not them. We're the ones who've betrayed Jesus' faith. The proof is in our non–kosher pudding.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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



Isaiah 22:19-23; Romans 11:33-36; Matthew 16:13-20

I've often said that someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture and not think of the Lone Ranger is a true aficionado of classical music. Likewise, anyone who can listen to Matthew 16:18 — “You're the rock and on this rock I'm going to build my church.” — and not think of the Roman Catholic papacy, is a true Scripture scholar. We've employed this text for so long as the main proof text for our hierarchical structure that for all practical purposes Matthew's real message has been completely lost.

The main problem is that we take today's gospel passage out of its original context of a first century CE Jewish/Christian community and put it into a twenty–first century church CE institution. When Matthew originally penned these lines, he still seems to have believed Jesus would return very shortly in the Parousia. He wasn't concerned with setting up a “program for the ages,” but in addressing problems his readers were experiencing then and there. Among those difficulties was the role of Jesus of Nazareth in the lives of Jewish/Christian believers. For the evangelist, this former Galilean carpenter was more than just one more Jewish prophet in a long line of Jewish prophets like Elijah or Jeremiah.

“You're the Christ, the Son of the living God,” Peter states. The risen Jesus whom Christians follow is not only the Messiah for which Jews longed for centuries, but he/she shares in Yahweh's divinity.

As we know from Paul of Tarsus, our earliest Christian author, Jesus' disciples could only stand in awe once they discovered the uniqueness of this itinerant preacher. God had done things through him that no person of faith could have anticipated. “How inscrutable are his judgments and how unsearchable his ways!” Paul reminds the Romans, in today's second reading, that no one could have predicted what had happened between 6 BCE and 30 CE, and was still happening with the risen Jesus in their midst. We can only give God glory for his/her intervention through Jesus.

Of course, the Chosen People were certain Yahweh had already personally worked in their history. Isaiah gives us an example of such an occurrence in our first reading. The prophet presumes it was Yahweh — and not just politics — who had replaced Shebna with Eliakim as “master of the palace” in 8th century BCE Judah. God never hesitated to get involved in everyday Jewish life.

Matthew is convinced that same divine involvement carries over into his day and age, especially through Jesus and those who follow him. Simon's rock solid faith in Jesus' divinity has transformed him into a rock for the early Christian community. This poor fisherman's belief in Jesus' uniqueness is the rock on which that church has been built. And just as traditional Pharisaic teachers and lawyers could interpret the Mosaic Law in ways respected and binding “in heaven and on earth,” so Peter and those with faith in the risen Jesus now share in that same ministry for the new People of God. (Contrary to popular belief, this power has nothing to do with who gets into heaven and who doesn't.)

Through the centuries many of us Catholics seem to have actually put more faith in some of the authority figures in our church than we've put in the risen Jesus. Especially during this year commemorating the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, we have to thank Fr. Martin Luther for trying to at least partially return us to that biblical faith.

But the struggle continues. After 2,000 years we're still fighting against “the gates of the netherworld,” trusting the gospel Jesus' promise that if we constantly fall back on our faith in him, the forces of evil will never prevail — even forces within the church.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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



Jeremiah 20:7-9; Romans 12:1-2; Matthew 16:21-27

The late Carrol Stuhlmueller once mentioned in class that the Hebrew word rendered as “duped” in the initial verse of today's Jeremiah reading is normally translated as “rape” when used in other places of the Hebrew Scriptures. Given that the next line in this notorious chapter 20 reads, “. . . you were too strong for me, and you triumphed,” that would also seem to be what the prophet is accusing Yahweh of doing to him. No wonder our modern translators watered down the word. We're accustomed to regarding God as our Redeemer, our Savior, not as our Rapist. Yet, as blasphemous as it is, that seems to be exactly how Jeremiah looks at his relationship with Yahweh.

When, as a child, I began walking to school alone, my mother frequently warned me never to get into a car with a stranger. Only much later did I understand she wasn't worried about the stranger's reckless driving record; she feared something much worse. Today Jeremiah confesses, “Years ago I didn't listen to my mother. I got into a car with Yahweh, and I'm still suffering the consequences.” The prophet is very concrete: “I am an object of laughter; everyone mocks me . . . the word of Yahweh has brought me derision and reproach all the day.”

Even worse, Jeremiah can't tell Yahweh, “Take this job and . . . .” It's as though he's joined the mafia; there's no way he can get out of it. “I say to myself, I will not mention him, I will speak in his name no more. But then it becomes like fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones; I grow weary holding it in, I cannot endure it.” He's trapped! He's going to have to be a prophet — with all the pain that entails — till the day he dies.

Jesus of Nazareth's earliest followers could identify with Jeremiah on all sorts of levels. Though, unlike this 7th century BCE prophet, they can fall back on a belief in an afterlife which eventually levels the faith playing–field, it doesn't take long for them to discover their relationship with this itinerant preacher brings lots of suffering. That's why immediately after Matthew has Peter declare Jesus is the “Messiah, the Son of the Living God,” this divine Christ informs his followers “. . . that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly . . . be killed and on the third day be raised.” Peter hadn't planned on that kind of salvation.

It's bad enough this Galilean carpenter will have to undergo such pain, but it's even worse that he expects his followers to endure the same suffering. They, like Jesus, will have to carry their “tau:” be totally open to whatever God wants them to do. Only those who are willing to lose their lives will eventually gain the life Jesus experiences and promises. It's as though God's fighting against God.

Even before Matthew wrote his gospel, Paul of Tarsus discovered that same dying/rising reality. It comes with the territory. In our second reading, he reminds the Christian community in Rome that unless they “offer” their bodies as a living sacrifice, they'll never achieve the life the risen Jesus has achieved.

When Peanuts' Charlie Brown once mentioned to Lucy that, “Life's a matter of ups and downs,” Lucy immediately countered with, “I don't want any downs! I just want to go up, up, up!” I presume each of us can identify with Lucy. Yet at the same time we're trying to imitate someone who constantly tried to “discern what is the will of God.”

Jesus not only got into the car with Yahweh, he holds the door open for us to jump in with him.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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



Ezekiel 33:7-9; Romans 13:8-10; Matthew 18:15-20

Years ago, in a radio interview, the late actor Dennis Weaver mentioned why Gunsmoke's Mr. Dillon had a sidekick like Chester. “All radio and TV western heroes needed someone to be with them, otherwise the show and movies would be terribly boring; the audience would never know what the heroes were thinking. The Lone Ranger talks to Tonto; Gene Autry confides in Smiley Burnette. Without their sidekicks, the heroes wouldn't have been heroes.”

In some sense, the same thing applies to our faith. Unless we somehow associate with others, our faith — no matter how deep — could quickly become meaningless.

Biblical faith is never to be lived on a mountain top. Only when it's experienced in the midst of a community does it make sense. Unless we're relating with others, the examples of living given us by Yahweh and the risen Jesus are useless. It's easy to “imagine” we're believers. Actually giving ourselves for others proves it. As M*A*S*H.'s Fr. Mulcahy once observed, “No matter how good you are at bluffing in poker, eventually you've got to show your cards.” Only then does the rubber hit the road.

Paul reflects on our unique situation in today's second reading: “Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another . . . .” Biblical faith only comes alive when we share our love with others. Since nothing should stand in the way of that love, the Apostle reminds those early Jewish/Christians in the Roman church whose lives once revolved around obeying the 613 Laws of Moses, “Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law.”

Yet, as we know, there's no one action that to everyone always shows love. Our acts of love differ because the needs of those we love differ. As a prophet, for instance, Ezekiel shows love by being the community's “watchman.” It's his responsibility to let them know what Yahweh wants them to do. In 6th century BCE Israel, the normal way the Chosen People surface God's will is by first surfacing the community's prophets, then carrying out what they tell them to do. If any prophet refuses to follow through on his/her ministry, they'll suffer the same punishment as those who refuse to listen to Yahweh.

Because the first followers of Jesus were convinced they shared in Jesus' prophetic ministry, Matthew's Jesus stresses their responsibility to confront others in the community when those others refuse to show love to those around them.

Though overlooked by many, in today's gospel pericope the whole community receives the same power to bind and loose that Peter personally received back in chapter 16; a built–in tension which Matthew is convinced is necessary in any loving Christian community. In other words, there're no simple answers to complicated questions. Not only that, but Jesus takes his disciples' prerogatives one step further. “. . . If two of you agree on earth about anything for which they are to pray, it shall be granted to them by my heavenly Father.”

Of course, all this community stuff must be seen against the background of love. We're not just people who accidently find ourselves in the same stadium crowd. We're actually the loving body of Christ. As Matthew's community quickly found out, it's in the acts of love we share that we discover the risen Jesus in our midst. “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”

The people we encounter during our lives aren't just sidekicks who help us reveal ourselves to others. More than anything else, they help us reveal ourselves to ourselves. Only when we show them love do we surface the hero in ourselves.

(Originally publshed 2017)

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

Archives in PDF format:
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Each archive file has two articles with the most recent at the bottom.

2020 Essays
August 16 & 23, 2020
August 2 & 9, 2020
July 19 & 26, 2020
July 5 & 12, 2020
June 21 & 28, 2020
June 7 & 14, 2020
May 21, 24 & 31, 2020
May 10 & 17, 2020

2019 Essays
June 16 & 23, 2019
May 30 or June 2 & June 9, 2019
May 19 & 26, 2019
May 5 & 12, 2019
April 20 & 28, 2019
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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