Homilies for September 2024

For September 1, September 8, September 15, September 22, and September 29

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 1, 2024

Readings: Dt 4:1–2, 6–8 • Ps 15:2–3, 3–4, 4–5 • Jas 1:17–18, 21b–22, 27 • Mk 7:1–8, 14–15, 21–23
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/090124.cfm

By Fr. Joseph Zwosta

On this Labor Day weekend, with college and professional football leagues getting underway, a favorite American pastime can resume: armchair quarterbacking. This is an activity in which a spectator, watching from the comfort of his favorite chair at home, tells everyone else in the room what Patrick Mahomes or Joe Burrow or Josh Allen should do to march their offense down the field and into the end-zone. The armchair quarterback always thinks he knows better than the professionals who prepare and practice for hours and hours each week.

There is another favorite American pastime with a similar name: armchair psychologizing. This is an activity in which someone with no training attempts to diagnose the psychological problems of others. Whether we know it or not, our society’s collective way of thinking has been significantly shaped by the ideas and the language of modern psychology. Thus, as an example, many people throw around the acronym “OCD” — obsessive compulsive disorder. For instance, one may say: “My friend is constantly vacuuming her house. I am worried she has OCD.”

What would an armchair psychologist make of the description of the ritual practices that we heard in today’s Gospel? St. Mark tells us: “The Pharisees and, in fact, all Jews, do not eat without carefully washing their hands, keeping the tradition of the elders. And on coming from the marketplace they do not eat without purifying themselves. And there are many other things that they have traditionally observed, the purification of cups and jugs and kettles and beds.” (Mk 7:3–4) Armchair psychologists, and perhaps even some actual psychologists, may be inclined to describe this behavior as obsessive compulsive. They may say that such actions are external manifestations of interior guilt. In this case, modern psychology may confirm a reality that was already understood in bygone ages: our interior life, our thoughts, our feelings, and our consciences are often reflected in external, physical behaviors. Thus, having a sense of guilt due to sin may manifest itself in a desire to cleanse our bodies, our food, our cooking utensils, and so on.

It is important to remember, however, that many of the ritual purifications that Jews observed two thousand years ago were commanded by the Law of Moses. Scholastic theologians, such as St. Thomas Aquinas, divided the various prescriptions of that law into three categories: juridical precepts, moral precepts, and ceremonial precepts. (cf. St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I-II, Q.99) The juridical precepts regulated the relationships among the people of Israel, enumerating the duties of subjects toward rulers, children toward parents, and so forth. The moral precepts guided the ethical conduct of God’s people. The Ten Commandments are the most famous summary of these precepts. The ceremonial precepts indicated in great detail the rituals that the Jewish people had to carry out to worship God rightly. Ritual washings were part of these precepts. All the precepts of the Mosaic Law, juridical, moral, and ceremonial, were given by God for the flourishing of His chosen people. As Moses says in today’s First Reading: “What great nation has statutes and decrees that are as just as this whole law which I am setting before you today?” (Dt 4:8) Thus, he warned the people carefully to observe all the commandments, without adding or subtracting anything.

Part of Christ’s criticism of the Pharisees was that they did not heed Moses’ warning. They added to and subtracted from the authentic precepts of the Mosaic Law. They compelled more burdensome ritual washings than those that were originally prescribed. Christ quotes the Prophet Isaiah in calling these “human precepts.” (Mk 7:7) The outward observance of these rites became the standard by which the Pharisees judged the validity of a person’s religious practice. They did not care if these rituals led those who observed them to love God more or to be sorrier for their sins. Without such interior movements of the soul, the ritual washings did not serve their authentic purpose. Moreover, even as the Pharisees promoted these empty ceremonies, they undermined the fulfilment of legitimate precepts of the law, such as the command to honor father and mother. (cf. Mk 7:10–12)

The early Church had to grapple with a question: to what extent are Christians bound to follow the precepts of the Law of Moses? Ultimately, it was determined that the moral precepts, especially as summarized in the Ten Commandments, retain all their force. The juridical and ceremonial precepts, however, are not binding upon Christians. Christ’s words in today’s Gospel helped the early Church in its discernment of this delicate issue. He says: “From within people, from their hearts, come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly.” (Mk 7:21–22) The ceremonial precepts of the Old Testament were meant to stir up sorrow within the heart for one’s transgressions and to express outwardly one’s expectation of the Messiah who would take away the sins of the world. The arrival of Christ marked the fulfillment or completion of those ceremonial precepts.

Christ’s critique of the rites of the Pharisees was not a condemnation of religious ritual in general. In fact, the life of the Church is centered around the sacraments, rituals instituted by Christ Himself that are distinct from and yet related to those observed in the Old Testament. These sacred signs cause the grace that they signify. They bring about a new spiritual reality within the souls of those who receive them. For instance, Baptism cleanses the soul from all sin and infuses divine charity. Every authentic spiritual practice in the Church flows from or returns us to the sacraments, particularly the greatest of them, the Eucharist.

The celebrant-in-chief of all the sacraments of the Church is Jesus Christ Himself. However, he chooses weak, imperfect ministers and recipients to become part of His own perfect worship. We who are privileged to be both ministers and recipients of the sacraments must be on guard against the attitude of the Pharisees that the Lord justly criticized. Outward rituals that are performed with no interior devotion become not only fruitless, but dangerous for those who perform them. Our exterior actions must instead reflect an interior love. This is especially true when we participate in Holy Mass and receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion. We must prepare ourselves well through prayer, through sorrow for our sins, and, if necessary, through sacramental confession.

In every age, the Lord provides generously for the people that He calls to be His own. Through Moses, He gave Israel the precepts that would guide them toward the Promised Land and prepare them for the coming of Christ. In our own age, He gives us the grace of the sacraments, especially of the Eucharist, to enliven our souls and keep them safe unto eternal life. May we always be grateful for these good and perfect gifts from above.

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 8, 2024

Readings: Is 35:4–7a • Ps 146:6–7, 8–9, 9–10 • Jas 2:1–5 • Mk 7:31–37
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/090824.cfm

By Fr. Michael Bruno

In the Rite of Baptism, the priest or deacon prays over the newly baptized child in the very manner in which our Lord heals in today’s Gospel. Touching the ears and mouth of the child, he prays the following words: “The Lord Jesus made the deaf hear and the mute speak. May he soon touch your ears to receive his word and your mouth to proclaim his faith, to the praise and glory of God the Father.”

The invocation after Baptism of this miraculous encounter in Mark’s Gospel is a reminder how the Lord Jesus has individually called and claimed each one of us, just as he called the man in today’s Gospel to come aside and move away from the crowds. In Baptism, He has opened our ears to the Gospel of salvation, which we hear proclaimed within His Church, allowing us to grow in knowledge and love of Him. He has opened our mouths and called us to herald His saving presence in the world by “speaking plainly,” drawing others to Him through our words and in the manner of our lives. As St. James explains in today’s epistle, God has chosen “those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom . . .” The Church, therefore, finds in the miraculous healing of today’s Gospel an image of how each one of us has been healed by Christ and sent forth as His disciples and witnesses in the world. We have been rendered sons and daughters of the Father made whole in Christ. Already foreshadowed in today’s Gospel is the moment when the Lord Jesus will again look to heaven and groan, but this time it will be from the cross, as He offers Himself completely and totally to the Father for the healing and salvation of all the world.

The reaction of the crowds to this miracle is noted as “astonishment.” The Lord’s miraculous works are signs of God’s salvation fulfilling the prophetic promises made to the people of Israel in exile. As we hear in Isaiah’s prophecy, the coming of the Lord will be marked with the vindication and recompense of God, which will be manifested in the restoration of sight, hearing, movement, and speech. The coming of the Lord will, therefore, be a moment of renewal and restoration, a “re-creation” brought about in the promised Savior. No surprise, therefore, that our Lord is met with astonishment, as His miracles and wondrous works fulfill the prophet’s words and manifest God’s salvation both for the man who is healed and, indeed, for all humanity.

Today’s Gospel, therefore, bids us to consider our own lives as disciples and witnesses of Christ. Asking today for the Lord’s healing once again, we seek His mercy for the ways we have been blind to His presence and His workings in our life. We ask forgiveness for the moments when we failed to hear and heed His word in our own words and deeds. Approaching the Lord Jesus this Sunday in the Eucharist, we marvel in astonishment, as He calls us uniquely and personally to healing and wholeness in Him. As we receive Him, He again opens our eyes and ears, sending us forth into the world to proclaim the good news of salvation. For with awe and thanksgiving for His marvelous works, we too proclaim with all our hearts how truly “He has done all things well!”

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 15, 2024

Readings: Is 50:5–9a • Ps 116:1–2, 3–4, 5–6, 8–9 • Jas 2:14–18 • Mk 8:27–35
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/091524.cfm

By Fr. Joseph Zwosta

Anyone who studies Sacred Scripture understands that there are some differences between the four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. We call the first three of these the Synoptic Gospels because they “take a common view” of the life, death, and Resurrection of Christ. St. John’s account is widely regarded as the latest chronologically of the four and the most distinct in its approach. Even among the Synoptics, there are differences in emphasis, style, and content. For instance, Saints Matthew and Luke provide us distinct yet complementary details about the Incarnation and Birth of Christ. This year on Sundays, we have been hearing mostly from the Gospel according to St. Mark. Many scholars conclude that this was the very first Gospel to be written. It is the briefest of all the four and is characterized by a concise, matter-of-fact style.

Today, St. Mark tells us about an important conversation between Christ and Peter. We Catholics may be surprised that after St. Peter makes his profession of faith that Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah, the evangelist merely tells us that Jesus “warned [the disciples] not to tell anyone about him.” (Mk 8:27) St. Matthew in his Gospel tells us that after this profession of faith, Christ proclaimed that Peter would be the rock upon which He would build His Church. (cf. Mt 16:17–19) This is an important Scriptural reference to the role of Peter and his successors, the popes, in the Church. Unlike St. Matthew, however, St. Mark does not tell us that Jesus said anything after Peter’s profession of faith other than to keep quiet about it.

What is the significance of this difference between the two Gospels? It does not mean that the Gospels are unreliable when it comes to Jesus’ words and deeds. It does not mean that we should consider one of them to be more reliable than another based on arbitrary criteria. It means that the four Gospel writers emphasized different things that Jesus said and did. That should not surprise us, for the same thing happens often today. Different eyewitnesses to the same event emphasize diverse aspects of what happened. Different editors chose to highlight varied pieces of reliable information. So it is with our Gospel texts. Though all the writers agree on the central points regarding the identity, life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, they sometimes differ in what they emphasize.

What is St. Mark’s emphasis in today’s passage? In short, it is that Jesus is indeed the Christ, the Messiah. However, He will be a Messiah who will suffer. A suffering Messiah was not what the People of Israel were expecting, despite so many prophecies of the Old Testament that indicated it would happen. We heard such an account in the First Reading from Isaiah: “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.” (Is 50:6) Instead of a suffering Christ, most Jews were expecting a Messiah that would come in majesty and power to restore the kingdom of Israel to earthly glory.

In contrast, Jesus openly taught that that “the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days.” (Mk 8:31) Although St. Peter had the courage to proclaim His faith in Jesus as the Messiah, the idea of a suffering Messiah scandalizes Him. He takes Christ aside and rebukes Him. This requires the Lord to utter some strong words: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” (Mk 8:33)

At this moment in the Gospel narrative, St. Peter and the other disciples still have much to learn about Jesus’ mission. They have much to learn about their own mission, which will include suffering, just as their Messiah and Lord will suffer. They will not fully understand this until after Christ rises from the dead. It is the Resurrection that will reveal the meaning and purpose of His suffering. Thus, we can understand why Christ warned His closest collaborators not to proclaim His identity as the Messiah until the time was right. For they would not be able to understand that identity fully until after His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.

Those who think and live by the logic of the world are still scandalized by those words of Christ: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.” (Mk 8:34–35) Our modern Western culture trains us to avoid suffering, to numb pain by any means necessary, to try to outrun the inevitable weakening of our bodies and minds. Those of us who are blessed with lives of abundance and comfort can easily fall into despair when distress and agony come our way.

If we truly follow Christ, however, we will recognize in all the trials we face in life concrete opportunities to unite ourselves to Him. Like St. Paul, we must say: “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord through which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.” (Gal 6:14) We can do this only through the grace of God. We can do it only through the inspiration of our Messiah, who endured the cross for our salvation and destroyed the power of death by rising from the grave.

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 22, 2024

Readings: Wis 2:12, 17–20 • Ps 54:3–4, 5, 6 and 8 • Jas 3:16—4:3 • Mk 9:30–37
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/092224.cfm

By Fr. Nicholas Colalella

What does success look like for a Christian? Our culture has its own standards determining what constitutes success and failure. Fame, wealth, and power are, of course, indicators that one has “made it” in this world. Consequently, many people seek, by various means, to acquire as much fame, wealth, and power as possible. But as Christians, our standards differ from those of the world. As a result, success looks very different for a Christian. In a letter to a friend, the English poet and Jesuit priest Gerard Manley Hopkins described Jesus as a man “doomed to succeed by failure.” In today’s Gospel, Jesus teaches his disciples how he is to succeed by failure. 

At the beginning of this chapter in the Gospel, Mark relates the story of the Transfiguration, in which Jesus reveals his divine glory to Peter, James, and John. After this, the disciples witness Jesus expel an unclean spirit. On account of his many miracles, Jesus’ renown increases and people from all over seek him out. In the view of the disciples, Jesus is successful; has everything going for him. And the disciples desire to share in this success as they discuss who among them is the greatest. It is no wonder, then, that when Jesus reminds his disciples that he “is to be handed over to men, and they will kill him,” they respond with bewilderment. Why would Jesus risk his success, and theirs as well, by handing himself over to death? In this case, the disciples are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do. 

The “wicked” in today’s first reading likewise hold to a worldly notion of success. In their materialistic worldview, there is nothing beyond what is seen and experienced in this life, and so death, which marks the end of existence, is the ultimate failure. Consequently, one must enjoy life, even at another’s expense. The way of life of the just man, who trusts in God, is an affront to their hedonistic lifestyle, and so must be eliminated. In their eyes, the just man’s untimely death at their hands represents utter failure, because it appears that God has not come to his aid. They claim success in this regard by their ability to condemn the just man “to a shameful death.” However, later on in the book of Wisdom, the author affirms the contrary: “The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead . . . But they are in peace” (Wis 3:1–3). The worldly standards of the wicked do not take into account that God is at work through suffering and death because “their wickedness blinded them and they do not know the hidden counsel of God” (2:21–22). What the world considers failure, God uses a means for His victory. 

Jesus’ second passion prediction teaches the disciples that true success takes the form of the cross. Jesus accomplishes God’s victory over sin and death not by acquiring fame, prestige, wealth, or worldly power, but by handing himself over to a “shameful death” on a cross, looking like a fool and a failure in the eyes of the world. Yet, as St. Paul reminds us, “the wisdom of this age is foolishness in the eyes of God” (1 Cor 3:19). For Christians, success is achieved by imitating Christ crucified who willingly and wholeheartedly gave his life in loving sacrifice for us. What the world might consider failure or foolishness or a “shameful death” — such as loving one’s enemies, giving alms, going out of one’s way to practice charity without expecting recompense, giving up an hour on Sunday to attend Mass, setting aside time for daily prayer, trying to live poverty, chastity, and obedience, or simply enduring daily trials and struggles with patience and trust — all of this is, in God’s eyes, a success, a victory, because it brings us to the foot of the cross, a place not only of suffering or death, but a place where true life and an abundance of grace are to be found. 

Like Jesus, the Christian is someone who is “doomed to succeed by failure.” How, then, does God’s Word this week challenge me to reevaluate my own understanding of success and failure as a Christian? What are some situations in my life that bring me to the foot of the cross, and how might I see these, from the perspective of the Gospel, as opportunities to participate in Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection? Strengthened by our participation in the sacraments, especially the most Holy Eucharist, let us ask for the grace to embrace Jesus’ “failure” in our own lives, so that we who share in His sufferings, may likewise share in His victory. 

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 29, 2024

Readings: Nm 11:25–29 • Ps 19:8, 10, 12–13, 14 • Jas 5:1–6 • Mk 9:38–43, 45, 47–48
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/092924.cfm

By Fr. Bradley D. Easterbrooks

Each week we recite in the Nicene Creed that we believe in “One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.” It sounds pretty clear: there is one Church, gathered by the Holy Spirit and made holy by the body of Christ. She is catholic on account of her totality and being endowed with the fullness of faith. And she is apostolic because she is taught, ministered to, and shepherded by the Apostles and their ordained successors, the bishops. But as we all know, there are Christians who live a moral life, read the Bible, and have a prayerful relationship with Jesus, but they are not members of the Catholic Church. How should we understand our relationship to them?

Our readings today give us a roadmap to answering that question. The Book of Numbers says that God commanded Moses to select seventy elders to be prophets who would assist him in proclaiming God’s message. Moses picked seventy and then the Spirit fell on them in the tent, the place where God was to be worshipped. God’s command to select seventy, however, involved a bit of mystery. How did Moses fairly select seventy elders from the twelve tribes of Israel? Mathematically, ten tribes would have gotten six elders, and two tribes just five. Not fair?

The Jewish rabbinical tradition wrestled with this mathematical dilemma. Eldad and Medad, the text tells us, experienced the Holy Spirit’s inspiration outside the tent, in the camp. Perhaps they came from tribes which were underrepresented among Moses’s seventy. Counting them as prophets meant that an exact multiple of twelve was possible: six elders per tribe. It turns out, God planned seventy-two prophets after all. Yet Joshua’s first reaction was to reject them. “Stop them,” he says. Moses, however, replied in wisdom: “Would that all the people of the LORD were prophets!” Moses, it seems, did not feel threatened by those prophesying without his authority.

The seventy-two prophets recounted in the Book of Numbers correspond to the seventy-two that the Gospels later report were sent out for ministry by Jesus. Yet the same problem of authority arises. Mark’s Gospel tells us that someone is casting out demons in Jesus’s name. Just like with Joshua, the Apostle John tries to stop him. John says that this man “does not follow us.” What John is saying is not unimportant! Imagine claiming to be a Jesus follower at the time of Jesus — who happens to be close by — but not following Jesus or his Apostles? Certainly, it would be a defective way to set up a ministry! Yet Jesus replies like Moses: “Do not prevent him. There is no one who performs a mighty deed in my name who can at the same time speak ill of me.”

Our first takeaway should be a warning against jealousy. Are there ways one’s ministry for the kingdom might be outshined by someone else laboring in the same vineyard? How should we react when one ministry seems to have more success than another? Or what if a family in the parish sends a son to the priesthood or a daughter to religious life, but despite your prayers, yours does not? Is your first reaction to be jealous, or to rejoice? All of us are called to be prophets and missionaries of the Gospel, and so humility requires us to give thanks when others bear fruit.

That said, I do not think Joshua and John were jealous. Their apprehension was probably good-willed, correctly identifying the problem but offering the wrong solution. They were right that without apostolic leadership the people would scatter. What if everyone chose not to follow the Apostles or their ordained successors — those who handed down the liturgy, the sacraments, and the scriptures to us? We would not have a Church, nor even a Bible. We would not know Jesus. Jesus says to the seventy-two: “He who rejects you rejects me” (Lk. 10:16). The apostolic foundation is necessary. It comes with the authority of Christ, who sends the Apostles as he tells them that “as the Father sent me, so I am sending you” (Jn. 20:21).

That said, history tells us that reasons for division are many and messy. And the Holy Spirit sometimes acts outside the tent, “in the camp.” The Bible tells us that the Spirit blows where he wills (cf. Jn. 3:8). He is active in unexpected ways, taking extraordinary measures when cracks need to be filled in the work of the Church. Sometimes, God’s plan is simply beyond our own limited understanding. One can see this dynamic especially in the Church, which we say “subsists” visibly in the Catholic Church. One of the consequences of the incarnation is that the Church is both a bodily and spiritual reality: an incarnate, Spirit-filled, body of Christ. The sacraments, likewise, confer spiritual realities through material signs that we can touch and feel. Yet the Church’s bodily configuration does not limit the Holy Spirit’s action outside visible, material boundaries. This is a great paradox. St. Augustine puts it succinctly: “[T]here may be something Catholic outside the Catholic Church.” (On Baptism, Against the Donatists, Book VII, Ch. 39).

John’s Gospel tells us that Christ intended his Church to be so united that people could look at the Church and believe — precisely because of her unity — that he was sent of the Father (cf. Jn. 17:21). Yet the way to bring about that unity is not necessarily to halt the Spirit’s activity outside the tent. When we recognize the Holy Spirit’s activity elsewhere, we place our hope in the love of Christ that is capable of forging the unity he wills. In fact, our recognition of the action of the Holy Spirit in others is perhaps the best way to help others see the same in us. It shows them that we are of the same Spirit. Jesus says that “anyone who gives you a cup of water to drink because you belong to Christ, amen, I say to you, will surely not lose his reward.” Works of charity demonstrate that Christ’s body, while visible, spiritually extends beyond what we can see.

The Second Vatican Council’s decree Unitatis redintegratio teaches that “anything wrought by the grace of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of our separated brethren can be a help to our own edification.” (UR, 4). We must always be willing to learn from our Christian brothers and sisters when their ministry and works are inspired by the Holy Spirit. Their methods and insights in Bible study, youth ministry, and preaching come to mind as particularly helpful when considering ways to communicate the Gospel to the world today. As Catholics, we have no need to be insecure about the good works of others. We can rather encourage each other in them.

The fourth-century Church Father St. Basil the Great explained some of today’s scriptural passages with the insight that the Holy Spirit is the place of sanctification, the place where Christians are made holy. “It is an extraordinary statement,” Basil says, “that the Spirit is frequently spoken of as the place of them that are being sanctified.” Basil was a Catholic bishop and no stranger to the institutional Church. Yet he teaches that when other Christians act under God’s inspiration, “the Spirit, far from being degraded, is rather glorified.” (On the Holy Spirit, Ch. 26).

Let us therefore put aside all pretense and jealousy and open our hearts to the action of the Lord “in the camp.” Let us rejoice when we find others both inside and outside our communion who minister in the same name of Christ. In this Eucharist today, let us glorify the Holy Spirit who comes into our midst and conforms us to Christ’s body, guiding us into perfect unity.

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Fr. Joseph Zwosta About Fr. Joseph Zwosta

Fr. Joseph Zwosta was ordained a priest for his native Diocese of Brooklyn in 2012. He obtained a Doctorate in Sacred Theology (STD) from the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas (Angelicum) in Rome in 2020. Since 2020, he has served as a professor and formator at Pope St. John XXIII National Seminary in Weston, MA. Since 2022, he has also served as Academic Dean.

Rev. Michael Bruno About Rev. Michael Bruno

Fr. Michael J.S. Bruno is a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn. He serves as Dean of Seminarians and is professor of Church History at St. Joseph’s Seminary and College (Dunwoodie), Yonkers, New York. He holds the Doctorate in Sacred Theology from the Pontifical Lateran University in Rome, Italy.

Fr. Nicholas M. Colalella, SSL About Fr. Nicholas M. Colalella, SSL

Fr. Colalella is a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn. After ordination to the priesthood in 2015, Fr. Colalella earned a licentiate in biblical studies from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and a Master’s degree in Semitic Languages from The Catholic University of America. He currently serves as the parochial vicar of Our Lady of Hope Church in Middle Village, Queens.

Rev. Bradley D. Easterbrooks About Rev. Bradley D. Easterbrooks

Rev. Bradley D. Easterbrooks, J.D., S.T.L., serves as Secretary of Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs for the Diocese of San Diego and as Parochial Vicar of St. Mark’s Catholic Church in San Marcos, California.

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