Theo - A Kris Kringle for our Dispirited Age

 

Every Christmastime, I rewatch Miracle on 34th Street. Originally, however, that famous film was released in summer and was not initially presented as a Christmas movie. To me, how a film that features Santa Claus could not be a Christmas movie defies all explanation! That said, Santa Claus aside, Miracle on 34th Street is a movie about how someone who personifies goodness brings joy to other people's lives and gets them to do good things that they probably ought to have had enough sense to do on their own, but never would have. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi (Atria Books, 2025) has a similar feel (minus the Christmas context), highlighting classically human themes of friendship and kindness, mutual service, and responding to the sadness and loneliness so endemic in modern American life.

Allen Levi originally self-published his novel through Amazon in the fall of 2023, but the book really took off in 2025 and has since became a huge success, finding its way onto the New York Times "Bestsellers" list for weeks. The story follows "Theo" - an 86-year-old Portuguese-born man, who uses only his first name - through his eventful year as a visitor residing in a Southern Georgia town called Golden. Theo focuses much of the year buying up portraits of local residents. The portraits had been done by a local artist named Asher. Theo sees them hanging on display (and for sale) in a local coffee shop called The Chalice. Theo's plan in purchasing the portraits himself is to give them as gifts to their subjects. First, Theo sends the portrait’s subjects a handwritten letter on fine paper, inviting them to come to the prearranged meeting place, promising that he’s “a harmless old man, a widower, a father, a toothless lion with only innocent intentions.” For the most part, the recipients of the portraits and the other locals whom Theo befriends respond positively to his generosity and prove to be grateful for an opportunity to tell Theo their story.

Much of the novel is about the unique network of generosity and mutual friendship which Theo creates, and how most of the others in downtown Golden respond to his initiatives. The author supposedly turned down offers from a Christian publisher for Theo of Golden. Even so, this is a novel permeated with a Christian sensibility, with occasional references to both Christian beliefs (e.g. heaven) and practices (e.g. Sunday churchgoing).  The novel’s conclusion features a Christian funeral service that includes an edifying homily on the story of the Risen Christ's encounter with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. (Since Theo is Portuguese his religious background would presumably have been Catholic. The local church, however, although the minister is a Father Lundy, looks somewhat generically, non-denominationally Christian.)

If the novel has a particular weakness, it is that the conclusion which ties everyone and everything together appears a bit too contrived, which (to my mind) may actually diminish the gratuity of Theo's kindness. The book could also have been a little tighter (i.e. shorter), the main point having been made and remade multiple times. (Rare is the book that couldn't benefit from being shorter!) That said, it is a beautiful story that highlights hope for humanity and prioritizes authentic Christian values in this time when such contrary values seem to predominate in our culture and in our politics.

As Father Lunday says: "For a year, he was in our midst and now, looking back, can't we say that, when we were with him, our hearts burned within us, our souls stood on tiptoe, our eyes recognized something good and true, and our minds could believe, if not fully, then ever so slightly, that love and heaven and forgiveness are the most real things that we can know in this world?"

Rome's Third Patron

 

Quam clarificata est Jerosolyma Stephano, tam illustris fieret Roma Laurentio ("As Jerusalem is made glorious by Stephen, so Rome is made illustrious by Lawrence"). So said Saint Leo the Great preaching on today's feast of the great Roman deacon-martyr Lawrence. Back in 2012, during my time at "Saints School" in Rome, I got to visit three Roman churches named for Saint Lawrence - San Lorenzo in Lucina, San Lorenzo in Panisperna (honoring the site of Lawrence's martyrdom), and the great Basilica of Saint Lawrence Outside the Walls, where Lawrence is buried. (The Photo above is of the altar at the site of his burial).

 

Christian Rome produced many martyrs - among them Pope Sixtus II and four other Roman deacons, whose memory we commemorated at Mass just last Friday, who were martyred just four days before Lawrence in 258 during the persecution of Emperor Valerian. 

What made Lawrence stand out so?

 

As deacon, Lawrence was apparently in charge of the material possessions of the Roman Church and of its alms for the poor. According to tradition, after the execution of Pope Sixtus the Prefect demanded that Lawrence turn over the Church's treasure. Supposedly, Lawrence quickly distributed as much of the Church's property as possible to the poor and then went to the Prefect and presented to him the poor. "Behold in these poor," Lawrence said to the Prefect, "the treasures I promised to show you." 

In the late 20th century, it became quite common to talk about a "preferential option for the poor." Lawrence lived it. Hence his standout status in 3rd-century Rome - and a good reason why we remember (and hopefully imitate) him even today.

Homily for the feast of Saint Lawrence, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, August 10, 2026.

Pompeii: Out of Time

 

One of the many side-benefits of the popularity of Christoper Nolan's blockbuster movie The Odyssey has been a widespread increase in interest in classics generally. For me personally, it led directly to my discovery of Mary Beard's fascinating and entertaining podcast Instant Classics. And it was on Instant Classics that I learned about Pompeii: Out of Time, a three-part documentary-drama television series recently produced for National Geographic and hosted and executive-produced by British actor (and Cambridge-trained classicist) Tom Hiddleston.

Hiddleston's series sets out to identify residents who might have escaped the disaster. Working with the "Pompeii Survivors Project," Hiddleston cross-references names inscribed on objects and buildings found in Pompeii with names that also appear elsewhere in the Roman world after the eruption (traditionally dated August 24, AD 79). He thus follows the fates of three individuals, who might have had potential to survive: Avianius, a headstrong teenager from a downwardly mobile family currently apprenticed to a bronze smith; Julia Felix, a wealthy businesswoman who owned a bathhouse on her estate; and an otherwise unidentified soldier, possibly a Praetorian Guardsman, whose belongings were recovered at the elite beach resort of Herculaneum several miles from Pompeii and even closer to Vesuvius.

In the first episode, "Tremors," Hiddleston follows some of the early signs from Vesuvius  as earthquakes disrupt the city. He follows Avianius and Julia Felix while he counts down to the beginning of the eruption. A key concept here is Hiddleston's desire to challenge the popular idea that Pompeii was destroyed without any warning, What in fact he examines is the different physical, social, and psychological pressures which contributed to each individual's eventual real-time decision to flee immediately or to delay during the appoximately 30 hours over which the tragedy transpired..

In the second episode, Hiddleston depicts the first four phases of the eruption. We watch as daylight disappears into darkness. (The fifth phase will be the final pyroclastic flows which ultiately buried the two cities intact for centuries.)  Hiddleston highlights the attempted flight from Herculaneum (dramatized as led by the Praetorian Guardsman.) As pyroclastic surges begin, hundreds will die not in Hurculaneum itself but on the beach from which they were trying to flee. He also highlights how Julia Felix tries to maneuver her household and customers away from the disaster.

In the third episode, Hiddleston uncovers possible evidence about the tragic fates of Avianius and Julia Felix, and considers what survival would have meant in practice for Pompeii's residents.

I guess it is a clever technique to bring us along following particular persons, expecting (or at least given initial reasons to hope) that they will survive. However, hoping our characters will survive only leads to disappointment when in the end most don't make it. Of course, it highlights the dramatic pathos of the event, but we already know it was a titanic catastrophe! By tracing the specific stories of particular people, Hiddleston seems to be trying to make that catastrophe come alive and its tragic character so much more personal for us as observers.

One of the three apparently did survive, however. Avianius apparently made it, although his mother did not, facts attested by a subsequent gravestone. For Avianius, survival meant moving on alone in the world. Survival too - for the few who, totally traumatized and now alone, did survive - was also tragic in its own very deep way.

My grandmother grew up in the shadow of Italy's other active volcano, Mount Etna near Catania, Sicily (which is making herself heard again as this is written!). As a child, I remember worrying that a volcano might erupt in the Bronx! There was never any danger of that, of course. But volcanoes continue to endanger our fragile human world - as Vesuvius itself may yet someday do once again! The twin traumas of massive deaths and traumatized survivors may yet continue to haunt our tragedy-burdened world.

The Cure of Ars

 

The year that Saint John Vianney (1786-1859), the famous "Cure of Ars" and patron of parish priests, died, 1859, Charles Dickens published A Tale of Two Cities, his famous novel about the French Revolution, which begins with the familiar sentence, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Into that turbulent "worst of times," John Vianney was born just three years before the Revolution - a movement which showed a hatred for the Church, the likes of which Europe had not seen since the worst of the Roman Emperors. Churches were desecrated; bishops, priests, and religious were massacred. Young John Vianney received his First Communion in secret, since public celebration of Mass by priests loyal to the Church was illegal.

After Napoleon had restored some semblance of peace between Church and State, 20-year-old John Vianney went to school to study for the priesthood. He failed the seminary admission test, but somehow managed on his second try. Even then, he was such a poor student that his continuance was in question. The Vicar General of the diocese finally asked the seminary rector, "Is Monsieur Vianney good?" The rector replied, "He is a model of goodness." To that, the Vicar General replied: "Let him be ordained. The grace of God will do the rest." Commenting on John Vianney's difficulties as a student, Isaac Hecker (1819-1888), the founder of the Paulist Fathers, saw "the supernatural action of the Holy Spirit at work" in John Vianney's difficulties. Hecker likened himself to John Vianney in how hard he had found his studies for the priesthood. Both John Vianney and Isaac Hecker went on to become exemplary priests - in spite of not quite measuring up to standard seminary standards.

The damage done by the revolutionary "worst of times" was eminently evident in the little village of Ars (population 230), to which John. Vianney was sent as pastor in 1817. His bishop warned him, "There is little love of God in that parish."

As Ars' parish priest, Saint John Vianney (photo) devoted the rest of his life to trying to remedy that devastating description. And, so, in Ars, "the worst of times" eventually became "the best of times." Always aware of his own inadequacies, but obedient to the Church that had called him to be a pastor and devoted to the people committed to his care, he sought to harmonize his own life with the holiness he was called to embody as a priest, instructing his parishioners by the personal witness of his life. "There are no two ways of serving God," he explained. "There is only one: serve him as he desires to be served. Celebrating Mass, he was said to have "gazed upon the Host with immense love." He believed the fervor of a priest depended on the Mass. "My God," he famously said, "how we ought to pity a priest who celebrates as if he were engaged in something routine." By his example, he helped his parishioners to pray. "One need not say much to pray well," he told them. "We know that Jesus is there in the tabernacle: let us open our hearts to him, let us rejoice in his sacred presence, that is the best prayer."

John Vianney is perhaps most famous for his ministry in the confessional. One legacy of "the worst of times" upheaval produced by the Revolution, was widespread indifference to the sacrament of forgiveness. Eventually, however, penitents would be coming to him from all over France, finally making it one of "the best of times" also for the great sacrament of God's mercy. 

Homily for the feast of Saint John Vianney, Saint Paull the Apostle Church, NY, August 4, 2026.

 

Bread of Joy

 

Every Sunday this summer, the second reading at Mass has been taken from Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans. Today’s text [Romans 8:35, 37-39] is a rhetorical flourish, which concludes the first half of Saint Paul’s letter.

What will separate us, Saint Paul dramatically asks, from God’s love for us as revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord? His answer: nothing! Not that there isn’t plenty out there to get in the way of our experience of God’s love! Paul knows only too well what obstacles there are and how powerful they seem to be. He even enumerates a bunch of them: anguish, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, peril, the sword. We could, of course, add to that list - war, public and private corruption, political polarization and division, downward mobility, the death of the “American Dream,” chronic illness, aging, and any number of other social, political, and personal problems. Even the gospel account we just heard of the feeding of the 5000, [Matthew 14:13-21] a happy, feel-good story if ever there was one, begins with the potential danger posed by the murder of John the Baptist!

Paul’s point is not that these things are not real or that they don’t threaten us, but that God’s power is so much greater than the forces that oppose it – and so can overcome all obstacles that threaten to separate us from God and the salvation his love intends for us. Instead, in desperation (in Paul’s time as again in our own) people tend to turn to all sorts of falsehoods – spiritual falsehoods like cosmic forces and social falsehoods like political power - in order to cope with threats from present things and future things.

Paul’s conviction, based on the love of God revealed in Christ, is that God’s power is way greater than those threats. If, however, we really believe in God’s omnipotence and in his love for us as revealed in Christ, then we will react differently to the many stresses and challenges we might otherwise be beaten down by. In this threatening and dangerous world, an all-powerful God who didn’t also love us would only add to the danger. That was precisely what made Paul’s preaching seem so liberating to so many pagans then – and continues to attract people to the Christian message today.

If God had not revealed himself – and his love for us – as he has done in his Son Jesus, we too would be equally desperate, clutching at anything that promised to placate otherwise uncontrollable cosmic forces or perhaps more mundanely to marshal aggressive political power to protect us against real or imagined scapegoats.

God, however, has revealed his love for us – not as an abstraction, but as a person, Christ Jesus our Lord, whose heart is moved with pity for us and satisfies us with food we could never buy on our own.

There will always be an insurmountable gap between our meager human resources – our 5 little loaves and 2 fish – and what God can accomplish on our behalf. Once we are willing to put ourselves at his disposal, however, God’s great love for us, present and active among us in Christ Jesus our Lord, will transform us by his blessing and enable us to accomplish, on his behalf, what we could never ever have imagined doing on our own – to conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.

And, so, the same Christ who feeds us whenever we assemble in his presence also commands us – as his disciples, as his Church –to reject pessimistic false alternatives and to join him wholeheartedly in feeding the world with the bread of joy and trust that comes from recognizing and perpetuating his presence in our world.

Homily for the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, august 2, 2026.

Ignatius

 

Twenty-plus years ago, on a parish pilgrimage in Spain, I celebrated Mass at the shrine of Saint Ignatius at Loyola Castle, the famous site of Ignatius’ religious transformation while recovering from his battle injury. As I unvested after Mass, the Jesuit sacristan seemed to be yelling at me. Thankfully I knew enough Spanish to understand that he was complaining that we had not venerated the relic. “What relic?” I asked. “the Saint’s head,” he replied. “Where is it?” I asked. The sacristan looked around and realized his mistake. He rushed to a filing cabinet and pulled out the small reliquary with a piece of bone from Saint Ignatius’ head, while, I, for my part, ran outside and summoned everyone back into the chapel to venerate the Saint’s head!

I have no recollection of what I had said in praise of Saint Ignatius in my homily on that occasion. I could hardly have said it better than our first Pastor and Paulist founder, Isaac Hecker, did in a famous sermon in 1863: “The leader of this company was Ignatius Loyola, the Spanish soldier, who abandoned the sword for the more powerful weapon of the Cross. For enlarged conception, energy of execution, and boldness of design, he has not been surpassed, if ever equaled, in Church history.”  [“The Saint of Our Day, “March 19, 1863]

At a time when the Church was faced with the twin challenges of the Protestant Reformation and world-wide exploration and (what we now call) globalization, Ignatius, together with six others (among then Saint Francis Xavier), founded his Society of Jesus, to reinvigorate the Church’s spiritual life and serve at the Pope’s disposal, wherever and however needed in the global mission. His Spiritual Exercises have served as a guide for vocational discernment and personal spiritual renewal for generations ever since, while the Jesuit community has spread all over the world as missionaries, scholars, and teachers, from the era portrayed in the movie The Mission until the present day. The first U.S. Bishop was a Jesuit, as was the first U.S. Catholic college. Ignatius’ legacy continues to guide and direct individuals and communities within the Church in the perennial process of discerning the most apt responses to the complicated crises and challenges the Church faces today.

Homily for the feast of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, July 31, 2026.

Image: Emblem of the Society of Jesus.

Friends

 

One of the more distressing observations about life in our contemporary society is how many people seem to have very few friends, some say none at all. Aristotle long ago famously said that friendship is something that no one would choose to live without even if one possessed all other goods. In the New Testament, even Jesus had his special friends and strongly valued his personal friendships. Today, the Church commemorates three of those special friends, the sisters Martha and Mary of Bethany and their brother Lazarus. The Collect we just prayed mentions something specific to each of them. O God, Whose Son called Lazarus back from the grave and was pleased to be a guest in the home of Martha, grant us, we pray, that, faithfully serving him in our brothers and sisters, we, with Mary, may be found worthy to be nourished by the contemplation of his word.

Each is mentioned for the thing that he or she is most famous for - being brought back to life from the dead, serving as Jesus' super-conscientious hostess, listening attentively to Jesus' words. But we commemorate them together - together as a family, of course, but more than just a family - together too as Jesus' disciples, and, more than disciples, also as Jesus' faithful, much loved friends. It was Lazarus' loving friendship with Jesus that his sisters' emphasized when they sent Jesus the message that Lazarus was seriously sick. Presumably, it was Martha's also authentically close friendship with Jesus, which enabled her to confront Jesus so dramatically when he showed up late for Lazarus' funeral. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." We get the same feeling from Martha's other famous confrontation with Jesus in Luke's Gospel. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” That is less a disicple talkign to her teacher than one good friend talking to another.

Both these scenes took place in Bethany.at Martha, Mary, and Lazarus' home, where Jesus was apparently a frequent visitor. Not all visitors are friends, of course. Hospitality to strangers was a very high value in the ancient world, as the The Odyssey movie has recently reminded us. But Jesus seems to have been a regular visitor at Martha, Mary, and Lazarus' home near Jerusalem, occasions for more than conventional hospitality but rather for deeply human experiences of mutual friendship.

In becoming human in Jesus, God has fully experienced our human life, sanctifying the sorrows and challenges of our ordinary lives but also blessing life's joys, among the benefits we receive from friendship.

Homily for the feast of Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, July 29, 2026.

Photo: Traditional Site of Tomb of Lazarus near Jerusalem.

The Elephants in the Room (A Book about Trump's Party)

 

Throughout this entire decade of Trump and Trumpism, numerous journalists have enriched our impressions of this president and the movement that has attached himself to him - most recently Regime Change: Inside the Imperial Presidency of Donald Trump (Simon & Schuster), by two New York Times journalists, Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan. After the journalists, inevitably come the political scientists, until finally in due course the historians will weigh in. Seth Masket is a Political Science professor at the University of Denver, a specialist in political parties, who has already attempted to address the Democrats story in this period with Learning from Loss: The Democrats 2016-2020 (Cambridge University Press, 2020), has now turned his (and our) attention to an important part of the Republican story with The Elephants in the Room: How Trump Voters Seized the Party from Republican Leaders (Cambridge University Press, 2026).

Masket starts from the fact that until recently both parties' presidential nominating processes "have followed a predictable set of rules." The Republicans, however, have changed "because the DC-based 'establishment' elites who used to run the party lost control of it to a populist, nativist grassroots faction outside Washington." It was Donald Trump who facilitated that faction's acquisition of power. "They don't see this as temporary madness; they see this as the movement that put them in charge and actually cares about the things they care about." Masket "uses the 2024 Republican presidential nomination as a lens for examining changes within the Republican Party and in the relationship between party insiders and voters."

What Masket calls populist conservatism has three key tenets: People-centrism, Anti-pluralism, and Moralized anti-elitism. He traces the history of the rise of this element in the party (at the expense of the previous "fusionist" consensus) through several stages:

1. 1960-1968 Learning from Nixon's Loss.                                                                                    2. 1970s The Rise of Primaries, the Fall of Gatekeepers.                                                            3. 1990s Pat Buchanan, Nativism, and Populism.                                                                        4. Mid-1990s The Gingrich Revolution.                                                                                        5. 2008-2012 The Tea Party and Obama's First Term.                                                                  6. The Rise of Conservative Media.                                                                                            7. Late 2000s-2010s The Demise of the Republican Establishment.

Having recounted this history, Masket moves into the present (the period after 2020). His methodology basically involves interviewing and surveying Republican party county chairs.  One might counter that county chairs and other formal party officials don't matter that much anymore, but that, of course, is precisely Masket's point.   "Trump did not win the 2024 nomination because party leaders were pulling for him and guiding party voters.  Indeed, many party leaders, including those who strongly supported him in his first term, were quite cool to a third Trump nomination.   They worried about his ability to win and the baggage he brought with him, and looked to a range of other candidates as possibilities. But they had no mechanism for picking such a candidates over the very strong preferences of party voters."

Masket concludes that neither party insiders nor donors rallied to Trump "until the party's voters made him the nominee." He had, after all, lost re-election, which is usually not rewarded in American politics. In particular, "the indictments caused many Republicans to rally behind Trump and defend him." Evangelical Christians are known to be among Trump's strongest supporters. "Opposition to an immoral person holding the presidency was one of the most commonly cited rationales among evangelicals for impeaching Bill Clinton in 1998-9, but less than two decades later, immorality was not a dealbreaker. Christianity did not undergo any major doctrinal shifts during this time; rather, its conservative adherents rethought the political implications of their faith."

Masket also examines the differences between Trump supporters and other Republicans. Trump's "supporters are considerably poorer, less educated, more conservative, and more likely to identify as evangelical Christian." They also share "a commitment to social order and hierarchy, endorsement of conspiratorial thinking, strong opposition to 'elite' rule in their party, a focus on immigration, and less acknowledgment of the existence of racial discrimination."

Masket concludes that the changes that brought Trump to power "are very much still present and aren't about to change back." 

God's Gracious Patience

When I was a kid growing up in the Bronx, New York City (sadly noted for its summer heat and humidity) tried to promote itself to tourists with the slogan “New York is a summer festival.” Festival or not, we certainly have had a festive summer, an exciting summer. We had the Knicks. We celebrated our semi-quincentennial – complete with tall ships, fireworks, and a celebrity wedding – and more locally our own Paulist Pilgrimage to Liberty Island in Support of Immigrants. And, of course, we have had the World Cup, which will come to its glorious conclusion later today in the final championship match between Spain and Argentina at the stadium across the Hudson.

 

Meanwhile, here in church this summer, we have been making our way, week-by-week, through Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans, the longest and most studied of all Saint Paul’s letters. Before I had ever formally studied it, however, my first serious personal encounter with the letter to the Romans occurred some 50 years ago, right around the 1976 bicentennial. It was in a Peanuts cartoon, in which Charlie Brown was moaning and groaning in his characteristic way, until finally someone said to him, “Stop sighing,” to which he responded, “It’s scriptural,” and then proceeded to cite Saint Paul’s words from the short passage we just heard today – in the more elegant, more traditional translation, for the Spirit helps us in our weakness, with sighs too deep for words [Romans 8:26].

 

Well, of course, there really is a lot to sigh about. Just listen to the news – or the poisonous brew that is social media. Paul’s words express the problem of the present, that is, the tension between, on the one hand, our obvious weakness and the sense of overwhelming futility that seems to characterize the world, and, on the other, our hope as children of God and joint heirs with Christ. We have, Saint Paul insists, been offered an alternative, already in the present. Hence, his stirring call to a total reorientation of our lives.

Even so, we remain burdened by what we have made of ourselves and our world, in the here and now. Left on our own, we would stay stuck. Paul, however, wants to alert us to something better and brighter than the present but which is already accessible to us now, thanks only to the presence and power of the Holy Spirit acting upon us, filling us, surrounding us, transforming us.

 

Similarly, the parables Jesus proposes in today’s Gospel [Matthew 13:24-43] all illustrate the slow – but inexorable – progress of God’s kingdom, transforming our pathetic present into God’s glorious future. God sows his good seed in the field of the world and patiently waits until the harvest before separating the wheat from the weeds. The weeds are very real and must be recognized and dealt with eventually. But God’s judgment is patient with the world – for our sake. Because, of course, God is not at all like us! As we just heard in the book of Wisdom, God’s mastery over all things makes him judge with clemency. He governs us with much lenience, thus giving us good ground for hope that he would permit our repentance [Wisdom 12:16-18].

 

God is not at all like us! In our frustratingly futile present, we lack patience – with God, with ourselves, with one another, with our world. But, again, God is not like us! Like the yeast which, when mixed with flour, leavens the whole batch, God is patiently filling, surrounding, and transforming our world with the presence and power of his Holy Spirit.

 

As the first fruits of the Spirit, we – the Church, Christ’s witnesses in the world – reflect the Holy Spirit’s leavening presence and power at work.  We are not quite there yet, of course, as the parable of the field so dramatically demonstrates. Wheat and weeds coexist in the Church – as they do in each one of us individually.

 

With the presence and power of the Holy Spirit acting upon us and within us, we are being aided to trust God’s process and make good use of the opportunity God’s patience provides us.

Homily for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, July 19, 2026.

The Odyssey (The Movie)

It has been a year since Christopher Nolan's new film version of The Odyssey was first advertised. It has been a long - if ultimately worthwhile - wait. 

I first read Homer's The Odyssey in high school. When I first read its companion epic, The Iliad, I had the striking experience of realizing that I knew much of the story already, because I had read the Classic Comics version of it years earlier as a boy sitting in the barbershop waiting for a haircut! (My mother wasn't a big fan of comics, and most of my childhood comic book reading was while waiting for haircuts at the neighborhood barbershop.) The Odyssey, however, when I first encountered it in high school, was completely new to me, and it seemed so completely unlike any of the heroic comics (e.g., Superman, Batman) I had earlier been accustomed to reading on haircut days.

The Odyssey is the putative sequel to The Iliad, that other great Greek epic set in the "Heroic" bronze age, what is sometimes called the "palace" culture of Mycenaean Greece, which came to an apparently abrupt end early in the 12th-century B.C. Together, The Iliad and The Odyssey are the foundational texts of our civilization and of western literature. Both were originally orally recited poems, dating from the much poorer "Archaic Age" (c. 800 B.C.), which looked back nostalgically to that much more glamorous heroic era, the familiar stories from which were well known to the audiences that listened to their recitation. 

In its 12,000+ lines,The Odyssey tells the story of the resourceful and cunning Greek hero Odysseus' prolonged, danger and adventure-filled journey home to Ithaca from the Greek victory in the Trojan War. As such, it is one of the world's oldest adventure stories, richer in many respects than the contemporary superhero adventure stories that typically clutter our modern movie screens. Indeed, as classicist (and Odyssey translator) Daniel Mendelsohn put it, The ‘Odyssey has "bequeathed to the West entire genres” - from science fiction to romantic comedy.

Odysseus is a "hero" in the ancient sense of someone with extraordinary physical and mental prowess who was successful in war.- not in the modern sense of a morally virtuous figure deserving of admiration and emulation. (Arguably, Nolan's Odysseus is portrayed as an ancient hero gradually turning into - or aspiring to turn into- a modern moralistic version of a hero.) Odysseus' epic journey highlights the uncertain character of life in an ancient world, which was harsh, unpredictable, and subject to the whims of gods who behave as badly as mortals but who possess so much more power. Odysseus was a relatively minor king among the Greek heroes, but he was not only a great warrior but also a "trickster," a clever, cunning and very shrewd schemer, author of the deceptive strategy remembered forever as the "Trojan Horse." 

Odysseus was favored by Athena (the only Olympian who appears personally in Nolan's film), but made a deadly enemy of Poseidon, the god of the sea and father of the Cyclops Polyphemus, whom he had blinded. The Greek gods are terrifying not only in their power but also in amoral arbitrariness toward mortals. (Unlike in The Iliad, where the gods are constantly active and involving themselves in the story, Odysseus is often on his own a lot of the time, which may make his story more relatably modern. On the other hand, whether Nolan's film may take that too far in diminishing the visible presence of gods in the movie may be an argument worth having about the movie's modernistic tendencies.) 

The Odyssey, however, is above all an epic story of longing for home (a Bronze-Age Wizard of Oz story). Odysseus - complex character that he is - does all sorts of things that imperil his eventual return. But, underneath it all, home is where he wants to be, with his long suffering faithful wife, Penelope (who serves as a sort of anti-type to her cousin, Helen, and Helen's sister, Clytemnestra), and the son he hardly knows (who, in his own coming-of-age story, embarks on a journey of his own, which helps fill us in on familiar stories of the Trojan War's aftermath). Along the way, he and his crew encounter some superficially pleasant obstacles like the land of the Lotus Eaters and lots of deadly obstacles like the Cyclops, the Sirens, and Scylla and Charybdis. Even beautiful and powerful minor goddesses (like Circe with whom Odysseus willingly spends a year and Calypso with whom he somewhat less willingly spends seven more years) ultimately cannot compare with his wife, who faithfully awaits his return, skillfully manipulating the suitors who greedily compete to replace her husband, in the process violating the norms of hospitality and highlighting both the familial and the political character of the crisis caused by Odysseus' prolonged absence. Their final reunion is a romantic panegyric to marital love, and also a restoration of proper political order. His homecoming is in every way the opposite of Agamemnon's ill-fated return home, but both share the same overwhelming atmosphere of violent revenge. (For some inexplicable reason, Nolan omits the sex from Odysseus' encounters with Circe and Calypso, which somewhat detracts from Homer's presentation of those episodes. Likewise, he omits Odysseus' name trick with the Cyclops and then his hubristic revelation of his real name, which is what reveals his identity to Poseidon and sets him up for his future troubles.)

Odysseus' complicated and problematic journey also expresses the anxieties that accompany the adventure of sailing on strange seas, something which would certainly have resonated with ancient Greeks sailing the Mediterranean Sea, setting out for far-flung parts of their known world. Odysseus also undertakes the most fearsome journey of all - to the house of Hades, the home of the dead, where the spirit of fallen warriors articulate a very Greek appreciation of the tragedy of human mortality. (Sadly, Nolan's movie version omits some of the most powerful scenes from this encounter - Odysseus' fleeting attempt to embrace his dead mother and his conversation with the dead hero Achilles.)

Christopher Nolan's unsurprisingly very long movie version of the ancient epic effectively captures the extreme expansiveness of this universal adventure story and homecoming tale in modern form, filled with the high-tech special effects that successively make this ancient adventure story a visually extravagant modern summer blockbuster. Nolan's film stars Matt Damon as Odysseus,  Anne Hathaway as his wife, Penelope, and Tom Holland as his son, Telemachus. These are familiar actors, and so their casting creates familiar expectations.

Thus, one expects a Matt Damon Odysseus to be a somewhat relatable everyman, and for the most part so he is. To the extent that this is a story saturated with universal themes - loss, longing for home, marital love, growing up, the ravages of war - that may be a legitimate way to go, one which may make the ancient epic more relatable to modern audiences. But it remains an ancient epic about a mythic ancient hero, about people very different from ourselves, about their gods, and about a pre-Christian culture imbued with a very different psychology and moral sensibility from ours. Some of that may inevitably be lost when Odysseus becomes too relatable. Thus, the translator Daniel Mandelson recently remarked that, while more colloquial translations' styles may be legitimate, he personally prefers a slightly more formal style, highlighting the fact that this was in fact a grand formal poem, filled with ancient emotions and rituals that ought not to be made to seem too familiar. (One thinks of the Jacobean translators of the King James Bible who deliberately used understandable but slightly archaic-sounding Elizabethan English to convey a sense of the special sacrality of their text.). In this regard, perhaps, Nolan's effort would have benefited from more appearances by the gods - not just for authenticity's sake of fidelity to the text but also to remind us that Odysseus and his interlocutors, however universally human we may imagine them, were not exactly people just like us. 

It is perhaps inevitable that a modern audience (or more to the point, perhaps, a modern director) demands a modern sensibility on a modern movie screen. Throughout the film, Nolan's Odysseus is just a tad more modern in his feelings and attitudes and responses to what happens than the ancient Odysseus would have been (or could have been). There is also a strange undercurrent of premonition that the heroic age is ending, that the ancient Mycenaean palace culture is about to be destroyed and give way to a "dark age." Homeric bards who sang this saga obviously knew that, but it is anachronistic in the extreme to attribute such an expectation to the era itself! Presumably, the motivation for this approach is in support of movie's moralizing tendency.

Homer looked back nostalgically to that great age of "Heroes." We judge that age by different standards, some of which inevitably creep into Nolan's portrayal of Odysseus. The epic itself ends on a triumphant note of vengeance and restoration. The movie, however, has a more morally ambivalent ending. Odysseus' gets his vengeance, and Telemachus gets his throne, but Odysseus seems anguished and repentant about his warrior life. He and Penelope, happily reunited, leave Ithaca together for some sort of voluntary expiatory exile. It is certainly a satisfactory ending, but undeniably a modern one.

L.P. Hartley's famous observation, “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there," remains relevant. We learn about ourselves from ancient classics - both from what is universal that we share with ancient people, and also from what was very different from us about those same ancient people.

World War II (with Tom Hanks)

 

It requires no special insight to observe that our appetite for World War II stories seems insatiable. That may be a good thing. World War II was, after all, the defining conflict (the "Trojan War," so to speak) of the 20th century, although itself part of a larger "war" which began with World War I in 1914 and ended - sort of - with the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991). World War II created the world I grew up in - and more specifically the America I grew up in. It created an international order that lasted more or less for some 80 years. It created the most prosperous period in human history. It offered a focus for national identity and patriotism for second and third generation heirs of immigrants, like my own relatives and a whole generation of postwar political national leaders (including Presidents Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, and Bush I), who fought in that war and learned some of their most fundamental lessons from that experience.

The series spans 20 episodes. They are only loosely chronological, as each episode focuses on a specific aspect of the war (e.g., Italy). This approach allows for added attention to aspects of the war's story that seldom get as much attention in a strictly chronological account, especially accounts which frame the war almost entirely in terms of an American victory story. For example, episode 15 is devoted entirely to the very different ways in which Germany and Japan related to their own citizens on the domestic front. Episode 16 is devoted entirely to the resistance movements in occupied countries, in France (with a largely very successful outcome) and in Poland (with a totally tragic outcome).

With the passage of time and the decline in the quality in American education, it must be assumed that actual knowledge of World War II has diminished and will continue to do so. Hence, the civic value of programs like this that can remedy some of our increasing collective ignorance. We need to remember World War II - how it happened, the colossal mistakes that led up to it, the terrible damage it did as largely a war against civilians, and the leating impact of the Holocaust and other World War II genocidal actions.

Of course it is likely those who already know something about World War II in the first place that will tune in to watch a program like this! That said the History Channel and Tom Hanks are to be commended for this very valuable effort!

World Cup Summer in the Land of More

There is a telling scene in The Americans (the 2013-2018 FX series about two Soviet KGB agents, posing as an American married couple, Elizabeth and Philip Jennings, living in a Virginia suburb of Washington. DC, while spying for the U.S.S.R. and raising their American-born children), in which Elizabeth struggles with Washington's heat, while her husband cones to the rescue by turning on the air-conditioner. Air-conditioning is but one of many benefits of American prosperity that Philip (more than Elizabeth) would come to appreciate during the series. It is but one of many benefits of American prosperity and our consumer-oriented culture that we Americans increasingly just take for granted - like large portions and free refills for drinks in restaurants.

Given the ubiquity of American popular culture abroad, one might have assumed that foreign visitors to America would already know a lot about American life - certainly more than most modern Americans know about life elsewhere. And yet, if media reports are to be believed, for the legions of 21st-century de Tocquevilles experiencing the U.S, for the first time this World Cup summer and posting about it on social media, the many material benefits of American prosperity and our consumer-oriented culture have been something of a revelation - a happy one, apparently.

That many foreign tourists coming to America for the World Cup like what they see and experience here is a good thing. Our country can use all the good press it can get these days!

Before the World Cup began there was some anxiety that tourists and soccer fans would experience "sticker shock" at the price of everything - especially World Cup tickets and train tickets to the New Jersey stadium. If so, that has been more than counterbalanced apparently by the sheer consumerist joy of shopping in American big box stores and eating in American restaurant and fast-food outlets. It is not necessarily the quality of the products being consumed that has been making such an impression. It is the sheer amount of stuff available for purchase and the size of the portions to be consumed.

A friend of mine likes to observe that, in the lottery of life, the luckiest outcome is to be born in the U.S. Never perhaps has that been more true. That is not to deny that there have been other periods, such as the 20 years after World War II, when the material benefits of our living in this country were more equally shared and there was a greater sense of unity, more shared prosperity, and a more commonly shared popular and civic culture. There is much more malaise - material and spiritual - now than there was then. And, for many Americans right now, their material situation is genuinely precarious, despite the wider picture of prosperity.

If tourists stayed long enough they might well pick up on more of that malaise. but the first image of America in every age has always been its abundance - from its amber waves of grain and its purple mountain majesties to its skyscrapers and highways to its supermarkets and department stores.

Of course, living in our air-conditioned comfort and consumerist gluttony, we may ask ourselves whether this is all there is, whether this is all we want to be about. Such concerns have likewise plagued us throughout our history. Religion used to offer answers to such questions. As fewer people respond to religion's answers, fewer may even be able to formulate the right questions. These are real problems, which sensitive souls still struggle with.

When communism collapsed in eastern Europe, there was a brief hope in some quarters that there would be a widespread spiritual revival and renewal of European Christianity. It quickly became clear, however, that prosperity proved more popular than virtue.

So it certainly seems here, this World Cup Summer, living in this abundant land of More.

As Maine Goes

 

For Democrats this midterm election year, retaking majority control of the U.S. Senate has suddenly seemed a real possibility - not yet a probability, but at least a possibility. But any path to Democratic control of the Senate almost certainly has to go through Maine, the only "Blue" state which voted for Kamala Harris in 2024 but which still has a Republican Senator. Susan Collins, Maine's formidable Republican Senator, has served five terms in the U.S. Senate, representing that state since having first been elected in 1996 and regularly reelected in 2002, 2008, 2014, and 2020. There was a time when states routinely voted for presidents from one party and senators from another - and even two senators from different parties. In our present polarized politics, however, when all politics is increasingly nationalized, such situations are increasingly anomalous, and so Susan Collins has become an outlier.

In Graham Platner, Maine's Democrats thought they had found a populist "outsider," who appealed to progressive voters alienated from Collins but also alienated from the Democratic "establishment." Despite considerable personal baggage, Platner easily won the June 9 Democratic party primary. Since then, however, subsequent revelations regarding his alleged personal behavior have cost him his endorsements and financial support, and his campaign has collapsed. 

How did this happen? American politics has long had an affinity for "outsiders." (The most notorious example, perhaps, was Jimmy Carter, who ran as an outsider, never having previously met a Democratic president. Carter won in 1976, but his presidency was a failure, in large part precisely because of his having been such an outsider.)

There is no doubt that many Democrats are alienated from their party's established leadership  - for having lost to Trump in 2024, for their anemic opposition to Trump, for their association with moneyed interests, etc. Hence, the appeal of Platner (an "outsider" who had never been a politician) and other putatively "populist" candidates to the young, college-educated progressives who inhabit the party's left wing. But there is also no doubt that those who promoted Platner's candidacy starting a year ago somehow failed to vet him adequately, which - whether progressives like it or not - is one indispensable task that the traditional establishments do relatively well. There may be some populist wisdom in the widespread distrust of elites, but the gatekeeping function of elites is not to be too casually dismissed either. If, for example, the Republican party's establishment elites had been more powerful, Donald Trump would likely never have gotten his party's nomination. 

The Democratic party establishment is also to blame, however, for the Platner fiasco. Instead of encouraging more plausible candidates to challenge Platner in the party's primary, the Washington-based Democratic party establishment threw its support to the incumbent 78-year old Governor, Janet Mills, whose age alone made her an avatar of the gerontocratic establishment many Democrats, especially young progressive Democrats, rightly or wrongly believe to be increasingly out of touch with their interests. Mills' campaign went nowhere; and so, with no serious opposition, Platner achieved an impressive victory in the primary.

The irony is, of course, that any reasonably good Democratic candidate should in theory be able to win in Maine. All he or she would have to do would be to convince those who voted for Harris in 2024 to vote "blue" again in 2026. There was no real need, therefore, to find an "outsider" to appeal to non-Democratic voters. Platner's oysterman persona and troubled past with PTSD were for some reason expected to appeal to "working-class" voters, who have been culturally alienated from the Democratic party. In fact, however, his support was always strongest among college-educated progressives. Indeed, it seems somewhat condescending if not outright insulting, to so-called "working-class" voters to assume that they would somehow see themselves in Platner's problems or would necessarily want to be represented by someone like him.

Moreover, the more extreme Democratic candidates who have won in primaries against incumbents in New York and elsewhere have almost all won in very safe "blue" seats. The Democratic left's populist insurgency has been almost entirely directed at defeating other Democrats, not at defeating Republicans. In this, it mirrors Trump's apparent prioritizing his internal control over the Republican party more than maintaining Republican control of Congress in the midterm elections. 

That said, Platner's support in Maine was very high. He had energized significant support, which the Maine Democratic party cannot afford to alienate - lest an internal party conflict cause Susan Collins to win and guarantee continued Republican control of the U.S. Senate. A lot will depend on the process the Maine Democrats employ to choose Platner's replacement and whether he or she can retain the support of most Maine Democrats and make the Senate race what it really should be - a referendum on Trump and Susan Collins' empowerment of Trumpism.

Image: Norman Rockwell Paints America at the Polls (November 4, 1944).