One of my favorite teachings from the epistles is almost a throwaway line from Colossians 3:21: “Fathers, do not nag your children, lest they lose heart.”

I’m not going to pretend that I know a thing about fishing. But I do know a thing or two about casting nets and being caught in them. And isn’t being caught how each of us discovers our vocation?

The young boy sleeps in the shrine, curled up in the most sacred spot in Israel, though he can scarcely appreciate it. Dedicated to God in his mother’s womb, Samuel was delivered into the service of religion without ever being asked what he wanted.

Too many kings introduces the problem in the eternal story of powers and principalities. So doggone many earthly authorities vie for our allegiance.

The great marathon of the holidays is almost over. Most of the big meals have been cooked; most of the significant family gatherings have met.

Imagine the misplaced compassion of David! David the king felt sorry for God. As he looked out of his palace window and saw the Tent of the Presence, David felt that he lived better than God did.

Who are you? If you had to describe yourself to someone, how would you begin? Some of us would start with a physical description: I am so tall, with such color skin, hair, and eyes.

What are you waiting for? The most disastrous answer anyone can give to that question is nothing. It’s the Advent question, boiled clean of all the theology and catechism we were taught and can’t use where the rubber meets the road of life.

Someone ought to find out what time is made of and get a patent on the stuff. Think of the possibilities!

Have you ever had to hire someone to work for you? It’s an awful business! Here come the halt and the hopeful, resumes crumpled, palms sweaty, serving time on the death-row-of-the-unemployed. Most of these people will surely not be chosen for rescue, at least not here and not today.