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Homily stories

06 Nov 2016 - Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Sunday pasta is both a tradition and a ritual for many Italian families. Ours was no exception. Along with the pasta, the crusty bread, the red wine, the platter of meatballs, neck bones and ox tails cooked for hours in the sauce, there were always two bowls with sliced cucumbers and halved radishes sitting in iced water ready to be salted and popped into your mouth. I thought everyone served them until I had pasta in other homes and they were noticeably missing. It wasn’t until decades later, visiting our hometown of Alberobello in southern Italy, that those bowls reappeared at the table of aunts and uncles eager to share familial hospitality with us. I would love to know the genesis of this little unique addition to our meals. When did it start? Why only with pasta? All I know is that it remains for me a part of who I am, a tiny bit of my DNA passed on to me from innumerable generations of family before me along with my nose, my temper, and so much more, including my faith. And so now when I serve pasta, the cucumbers and radishes are there as a tasty homage to my roots.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

family roots

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Homily stories

26 May 2019 - Sixth Sunday of Easter, Cycle C

David and I married on a Saturday in August and on the following Monday, we packed all of our earthly possessions in a U-Haul, and left the Midwest for a new life that awaited us in Boston. We left behind every family member and friend that we had except for each other. I would be less than honest if I did not admit that in many ways it was a lonely year. We met nice people at work but it takes a while to develop the kind of friendship bonds that we had left behind. After a year of searching for a church home, we found one that was a 30-minute drive from our home and we began to plant our roots in that community of faith. In time, we each finished a graduate degree, found meaningful work and began a family. With the births of our daughters, we found other young parents that added neighborhood friends to the church friends who had become like family to us. In time, we began to think about returning to the Midwest. My dad had been diagnosed with cancer and our daughters were beginning school. It seemed like it was time to return. As difficult as it had been to leave the Midwest—it was equally difficult to move to a new Midwestern city. As we gathered for one last farewell party with church and neighborhood friends, we were given a parting gift: Dave and I unwrapped the large framed print and together we read these words: Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.

Authors Peggy Ekerdt

roots Peace farewells

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Homily stories

07 Aug 2022 - Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

A few years ago, I received a birthday gift, a DNA test that would trace my roots with a simple swab of saliva. I knew a little about my family history from my parents and their anecdotal stories about growing up in Puglia located in Southern Italy. Clearly there were generations of poverty and oppression as well as deep and sustaining faith. A family tree my brother researched went only as far back as my paternal great-great grandfather, Angelo. It was sparse. What was noticeable was the recurring first names. There was a Domenico listed in every generation back to 1822. The DNA results I received filled in some interesting blanks. It listed my ethnic makeup as 51 percent Southern European (no surprise there at all); 41 percent Middle Eastern (again, given the history of Puglia as well as meeting a Turkish man once who looked just like my uncle Dom, not too surprising); and (very interestingly) 9 percent Ashkenazi Diaspora Jewish from the region that is now Georgia on the Black Sea. It left me a lot to ponder. The history we carry with us in our blood, our physical characteristics, long forgotten joys, scarring sorrows, and the very roots of our faith that are deeply buried in us must certainly play a role in making us the persons we are. Scripture today reminds us of our roots of faith that comes from ancestors we share with Jesus, and what those roots invite us to be today.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

roots of faith

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