Reconsiderations:
A Collection of
Thoughts & Reflections
Personal musings on a wide-range of topics & interests. Posts vary therefore in both theme, depth, & length (also in frequency). Some posts are more professional, while others will be more casual.
My publications with the National Catholic Register can be directly accessed HERE.
My Substack can be directly accessed HERE.
Enjoy!
My publications with the National Catholic Register can be directly accessed HERE.
My Substack can be directly accessed HERE.
Enjoy!
In the Heat of the Day:
A Fellow Educator’s Reflection on Hospitality, Balance, and Being Prepared Readings: Genesis 18:1–10a & Luke 10:38–42
As a fellow Catholic educator, these summer weeks often feel like Abraham's moment in Genesis 18—“sitting at the entrance of his tent while the day was growing hot.” I don’t know about you, but that image resonated with me. After the intensity of the school year, I’ve been trying to take a breath, slow down, and let the noise settle. And yet, it’s precisely in the heat of the day that the Lord appears. Not when everything is perfect. Not when Abraham has a five-day plan ready. But when he’s sitting, watching, maybe even catching his breath.
What does Abraham do? He runs to welcome the three visitors. He insists on serving. He prepares food and makes space. In short, he practices hospitality—not just the kind we show with a smile or a snack cart, but the deep hospitality of seeing each person as a guest sent by God. This reading reminded me that the heart of our schools shouldn’t be efficiency—it should be a sense of welcome. Every time we greet a student, sit with a colleague, or call a parent, we’re making space for grace, even in the heat.
Now, let’s be honest. We’ve all had our Martha moments, too. That Gospel from Luke 10 felt uncomfortably familiar. So many times, I’ve been “anxious and worried about many things,” especially heading into a new school year. Lesson plans, calendars, PD meetings, rosters. All important. All necessary. But Jesus’ words to Martha weren’t a rebuke for working—they were a loving invitation to reorder her heart. To balance her activity with presence. To let service flow from stillness, not stress.
Mary “chose the better part”—and I believe we’re invited to do the same. Sitting at the feet of Christ before we stand at the front of a classroom. Listening before leading. Praying before planning.
So as we prepare for the new year, I’m taking this Gospel as a personal reminder--not just to get ready, but to get right. Right in my priorities. Right in my spirit. And right in my sense of what really matters.
This summer, may we:
Extend hospitality—not only to others, but to Christ Himself, who knocks gently on our tent flaps.
Seek balance—between our inner Martha and Mary, work and wonder, rigor and rest.
And truly prepare—not just our syllabi and classrooms, but our hearts.
We may feel like Abraham in the heat of the day. But that’s when the Lord shows up. May we recognize Him, and rise to meet Him.
What does Abraham do? He runs to welcome the three visitors. He insists on serving. He prepares food and makes space. In short, he practices hospitality—not just the kind we show with a smile or a snack cart, but the deep hospitality of seeing each person as a guest sent by God. This reading reminded me that the heart of our schools shouldn’t be efficiency—it should be a sense of welcome. Every time we greet a student, sit with a colleague, or call a parent, we’re making space for grace, even in the heat.
Now, let’s be honest. We’ve all had our Martha moments, too. That Gospel from Luke 10 felt uncomfortably familiar. So many times, I’ve been “anxious and worried about many things,” especially heading into a new school year. Lesson plans, calendars, PD meetings, rosters. All important. All necessary. But Jesus’ words to Martha weren’t a rebuke for working—they were a loving invitation to reorder her heart. To balance her activity with presence. To let service flow from stillness, not stress.
Mary “chose the better part”—and I believe we’re invited to do the same. Sitting at the feet of Christ before we stand at the front of a classroom. Listening before leading. Praying before planning.
So as we prepare for the new year, I’m taking this Gospel as a personal reminder--not just to get ready, but to get right. Right in my priorities. Right in my spirit. And right in my sense of what really matters.
This summer, may we:
Extend hospitality—not only to others, but to Christ Himself, who knocks gently on our tent flaps.
Seek balance—between our inner Martha and Mary, work and wonder, rigor and rest.
And truly prepare—not just our syllabi and classrooms, but our hearts.
We may feel like Abraham in the heat of the day. But that’s when the Lord shows up. May we recognize Him, and rise to meet Him.
A Gospel for the Conclave: Obedience, Love, and the Petrine Office
While my “favorite” Gospel is Luke’s (for personal reasons), one of my all-time favorite Gospel passages was proclaimed today, on the Third Sunday of Easter (Year C): John 21:1–19.
I couldn’t help but reflect on how this passage is the perfect one to meditate on as the College of Cardinals prepares to seal the doors of the Conclave this Wednesday (May 7th). This Gospel is so rich in the way it presents the relationship between Jesus and St. Peter—and, by extension, the Lord’s ongoing relationship with Peter’s successors: the popes.
I offer a brief exegetical breakdown of some key moments in the Gospel, which I hope readers will take to heart and prayerfully reflect on. If you missed Mass, I encourage you to read the passage first HERE.
The Boat as the Church
The “boat” has long symbolized the Church. The apostles are out fishing but catching nothing—until they accept direction and obey the Lord by casting their nets in a new way. Then they have a bountiful catch. So too, our next pope must be obedient to the call and instruction of Jesus. It’s no coincidence that the word obedient comes from the Latin ob-audire, meaning "to listen to."
Peter’s Eagerness and His Clothes
Once Jesus is identified as the one giving instruction from the shore, notice Peter’s curious reaction—he “tucked in his garment” (depending on the translation) before jumping into the water. He doesn’t strip down to avoid getting wet. Instead, he remains clothed and rushes to Jesus.
In Scripture, nakedness often symbolizes shame, going all the way back to Adam in Genesis. But Peter, unlike Adam, is not naked before the Lord. He is clothed—albeit soaking wet—and unashamed. I also love the immediacy of Peter’s response. Once he realizes it’s Jesus, he acts without hesitation. One can only hope the next pope is just as eager to “jump” into action in the name of Christ.
153 Fish and the Mission of the Church
Any time Scripture offers an oddly specific number, pay attention! The number of fish hauled in is recorded as 153. Why that number?
Scholars note that 153 was believed to be the number of known fish species in the ancient world at the time. The author of John likely chose this figure to show that Christ’s universal (catholic) Church is meant for all people. Every “kind” is welcome. Everyone is invited to the feast.
This is a beautiful detail often overlooked by the average congregant.
And notice who hauls in the net - Peter, by himself. Earlier in the passage, the apostles as a group can’t bring in the net, but Peter is the one who draws all the fish to Christ. And “the net was not torn.”
Indeed, it is the pope (more so then any other bishop) who has the particular responsibility of drawing us to Christ and keeping us united to Him. And when he does so with an authentic and faithful heart, the Church will not be torn apart. We will remain as one.
“Do You Love Me?” – A Deeper Look at the Greek
At the end of the Gospel, we get a fascinating exchange between Jesus and Peter that often gets flattened in English translation.
In Koine Greek, the language of the New Testament, there are multiple words for “love.” In English, we only have one—so the subtlety in this dialogue is often lost.
Too often, we read this simply as a threefold affirmation of love to counter Peter’s threefold denial. And while that’s certainly part of the meaning, there’s more going on.
Let’s define the two key Greek words used:
ἀγαπάω (agapáō): Divine, selfless, unconditional love
φιλέω (philéō): Brotherly affection or friendship
Here’s how the conversation unfolds:
First Time (v.15)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me more than these?"
Peter: "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Second Time (v.16)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me?"
Peter: "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Third Time (v.17)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (φιλῶ) me?"
Peter was grieved and replied: "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Many scholars suggest that Jesus is gently guiding Peter (and his successors) from a place of overconfidence to a humbler, more grounded love. The final shift (when Jesus uses philéō) shows that Jesus meets Peter where he is, emotionally and spiritually.
The message is clear: even imperfect love, if sincere, is enough.
A Prayer for the Next Pope
As the College of Cardinals gathers this week, my hope is that they are attentive to the Holy Spirit and choose a faithful successor to St. Peter - one who will gather, feed, tend to, and defend Christ’s flock.
May he love Christ, not just with lofty words, but with real action. May he, like Peter, jump into the water fully clothed and unashamed, ready to serve.
I couldn’t help but reflect on how this passage is the perfect one to meditate on as the College of Cardinals prepares to seal the doors of the Conclave this Wednesday (May 7th). This Gospel is so rich in the way it presents the relationship between Jesus and St. Peter—and, by extension, the Lord’s ongoing relationship with Peter’s successors: the popes.
I offer a brief exegetical breakdown of some key moments in the Gospel, which I hope readers will take to heart and prayerfully reflect on. If you missed Mass, I encourage you to read the passage first HERE.
The Boat as the Church
The “boat” has long symbolized the Church. The apostles are out fishing but catching nothing—until they accept direction and obey the Lord by casting their nets in a new way. Then they have a bountiful catch. So too, our next pope must be obedient to the call and instruction of Jesus. It’s no coincidence that the word obedient comes from the Latin ob-audire, meaning "to listen to."
Peter’s Eagerness and His Clothes
Once Jesus is identified as the one giving instruction from the shore, notice Peter’s curious reaction—he “tucked in his garment” (depending on the translation) before jumping into the water. He doesn’t strip down to avoid getting wet. Instead, he remains clothed and rushes to Jesus.
In Scripture, nakedness often symbolizes shame, going all the way back to Adam in Genesis. But Peter, unlike Adam, is not naked before the Lord. He is clothed—albeit soaking wet—and unashamed. I also love the immediacy of Peter’s response. Once he realizes it’s Jesus, he acts without hesitation. One can only hope the next pope is just as eager to “jump” into action in the name of Christ.
153 Fish and the Mission of the Church
Any time Scripture offers an oddly specific number, pay attention! The number of fish hauled in is recorded as 153. Why that number?
Scholars note that 153 was believed to be the number of known fish species in the ancient world at the time. The author of John likely chose this figure to show that Christ’s universal (catholic) Church is meant for all people. Every “kind” is welcome. Everyone is invited to the feast.
This is a beautiful detail often overlooked by the average congregant.
And notice who hauls in the net - Peter, by himself. Earlier in the passage, the apostles as a group can’t bring in the net, but Peter is the one who draws all the fish to Christ. And “the net was not torn.”
Indeed, it is the pope (more so then any other bishop) who has the particular responsibility of drawing us to Christ and keeping us united to Him. And when he does so with an authentic and faithful heart, the Church will not be torn apart. We will remain as one.
“Do You Love Me?” – A Deeper Look at the Greek
At the end of the Gospel, we get a fascinating exchange between Jesus and Peter that often gets flattened in English translation.
In Koine Greek, the language of the New Testament, there are multiple words for “love.” In English, we only have one—so the subtlety in this dialogue is often lost.
Too often, we read this simply as a threefold affirmation of love to counter Peter’s threefold denial. And while that’s certainly part of the meaning, there’s more going on.
Let’s define the two key Greek words used:
ἀγαπάω (agapáō): Divine, selfless, unconditional love
φιλέω (philéō): Brotherly affection or friendship
Here’s how the conversation unfolds:
First Time (v.15)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me more than these?"
Peter: "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Second Time (v.16)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (ἀγαπᾷς) me?"
Peter: "Yes, Lord, you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Third Time (v.17)
Jesus: "Simon, son of John, do you love (φιλῶ) me?"
Peter was grieved and replied: "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love (φιλῶ) you."
Many scholars suggest that Jesus is gently guiding Peter (and his successors) from a place of overconfidence to a humbler, more grounded love. The final shift (when Jesus uses philéō) shows that Jesus meets Peter where he is, emotionally and spiritually.
The message is clear: even imperfect love, if sincere, is enough.
A Prayer for the Next Pope
As the College of Cardinals gathers this week, my hope is that they are attentive to the Holy Spirit and choose a faithful successor to St. Peter - one who will gather, feed, tend to, and defend Christ’s flock.
May he love Christ, not just with lofty words, but with real action. May he, like Peter, jump into the water fully clothed and unashamed, ready to serve.
RSS Feed