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Roger Karban

Ordained in Rome in 1964, Roger R. Karban is a priest of the Diocese of Belleville with scholarly expertise in the Sacred Scriptures. He received a Licentiate in Theology from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome and did his doctoral studies in Scripture at St. Louis University.

Karban has been the chair of religion departments at Mater Dei and Gibault Catholic High Schools; director of the diocesan diaconate program and is currently the administrator of Our Lady of Good Council Parish, Renault, IL. A part-time faculty member of St. Louis University and Southwestern Illinois College where he teaches the Bible as literature, Karban also teaches adult weekly scripture classes in Belleville, Breese, Carbondale and Lebanon, IL. With the vision of Vatican II, Karban presents workshops, not only in the diocese, but throughout the country.



Roger's Essays

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Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a; I Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58

The early biblical Christian community would have looked at today’s feast through different eyes than those looking at it today. We’ve been trained to see the “feeding” element of Christ’s Body and Blood; they saw the “presence” element.

We see the former in today’s choice of a first reading. The comparison of Christ’s Body and Blood to the manna in the wilderness is classic. Moses reminds the Chosen People, “He (Yahweh) let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you with manna . . . .” No matter the dangers the Israelites faced during their desert wanderings, Yahweh’s timely manna provided the strength to see them through their journeys unscathed. The similarity with Christ’s Body and Blood needs no explanation.

John’s late first century CE reflection on both Eucharistic elements certainly reinforces that theology. Immediately after the bread miracle, his Jesus states, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them on the last day.” The evangelist is convinced Christ’s Body and Blood are the only “true food and true drink” Christians need to attain eternal life.

Yet a generation or two before John wrote his gospel, Paul looked at the Eucharist through a different filter. Today’s I Corinthians passage is very significant; it contains the earliest known biblical reference to the Lord’s Supper. But once pulled out its chapter 10 context, it’s almost impossible to appreciate Paul’s unique Eucharistic theology.

At this point of his letter, Paul’s challenging the overconfidence of some in the Corinthian community who believe they can continue taking part in their old pagan sacrifices yet remain followers of Jesus in good standing. He argues that just as receiving from the Eucharistic cup makes them one with the risen Jesus, so the pagan temple rituals in which they engage make them one with those other gods; an obvious contradiction for a disciple of Jesus. Then, bringing up a point John never makes about the Lord’s Supper in his oft-quoted chapter 6, the Apostle mentions his belief that receiving the cup and bread also make the participants one with one another. Symbolized by the one loaf, it transforms them into the one Body of Christ. (I wonder what our use of individual “hosts” signifies.)

Paul doesn’t have to ask the next question. It’s obvious. How could the Body of Christ take part in such an abomination?

One of the reasons Catholic celebrations of the Lord’s Supper eventually transformed themselves into just a series of “robotic actions” springs from our church’s zeroing in only on John 6 and ignoring other early Eucharistic theologies, especially that of Paul in I Corinthians. The “Mass” simply became the way this special food and drink was produced. No longer was it a communal meal in which the participants became one with both the risen Christ and one another. One special person did all the “work;’ everyone else just “applauded” when it was over. (Until the liturgical reforms of the mid-20th century practically no one – except the priest - even dared to actually eat any of this unique food!)

Ad nauseam I repeat the late Bishop Frank Murphy’s 1964 instruction to us about-to-be-ordained priests. “Your main task during the Eucharist isn’t just to say the right words or make the right gestures; it’s to help form the participants into the Body of Christ.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t take us long to figure out it was far easier to “cook” the meal than it was to create the unique environment in which that one of a kind meal was to be eaten.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Jeremiah 20:10-13; Romans 5:12-15; Matthew 10:26-33

Today’s first reading is from what I regard as the Bible’s most depressing chapter: Jeremiah 20.

As we hear in chapters 10-20, the prophet actually dares confront Yahweh about his problems. Though Jeremiah’s convinced he’s one of Yahweh’s spokespersons, his enemies not only treat him like dirt – some have even put out contracts on his life – but Yahweh lets them get by with it.

To correctly understand the depth of Jeremiah’s complaints it’s important to note that during the 7th and 6th centuries BCE, the prophet can’t fall back on the two safety nets we frequently employ today in parallel situations. First, he has no belief in a heaven or hell. He can’t say, “They’ll get ‘theirs’ after they die; while I’ll get ‘mine.’” People’s actions were rewarded or punished in this life only. The afterlife offered neither reward nor punishment. Second, there’s no concept of a devil as we know it. In many situations, Yahweh causes good and evil. In Exodus 7:3, for instance, God actually tells Moses he’ll “harden Pharaoh’s heart” so he won’t let the Chosen People leave Egypt? How do you deal with a God who actively works against what he/she tells you to do and admits it?

In today’s passage Jeremiah can only fall back on his conviction that Yahweh will come to his aid, though at this point there’s no sign he/she will do so in time for the prophet to actually “witness the vengeance you take on them.” It doesn’t do the prophet any good if Yahweh avenges him five minutes after he dies. In some sense, his praising Yahweh for “rescuing the life of the poor from the power of the wicked” is a little like whistling in the dark. Further along in this chapter, when his pain becomes unbearable, he’ll demand to know why he was even born!

Because of the two safety nets I mentioned above, we don’t have to suffer in the way Jeremiah suffered in his relationship with Yahweh. Yet, in other ways we still feel insignificant when it comes to God – or the risen Jesus – relating to us. To quote Deutero-Isaiah, we’re nothing but a bunch of maggots, maggots who’ll eventually get into heaven if we follow all the proper rules and regulations, but still not very important individuals.

Perhaps that’s why we should listen carefully to today’s other two readings.

Paul certainly operates off the idea that we’re very important people, not necessarily because of what we’ve accomplished, but because Jesus thought us important enough to die for. He reminds the Christian community in Rome of one of his most compelling beliefs. “If by the transgression of the one (Adam) the many died, how much more did the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflow for the many.” If Jesus is convinced we’re significant, how can we disagree?

Fifteen or more years later, Matthew still thinks it’s necessary to remind his church of their importance. They’re the special people entrusted to “proclaim from the housetops” the message they’ve received from the risen Jesus. Should they have doubts about being so privileged, the evangelist points out that the one who takes such good care of sparrows will certainly take care of them. (Considering my baldness, I normally ignore commenting on God counting the hairs of my head. Doesn’t take him/her long to carry that out.)

Maybe the most serious sin we can commit isn’t denying that God exists, but denying that God actually cares for us. Our biblical authors are convinced that if God exists, then God cares. If Jeremiah, with all his problems, never went far enough to definitively deny God’s care, then who are we to question it?


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



II Kings 4:8-11, 14-16a; Romans 6:3-4, 8-11; Matthew 10:37-42

As a kid, I often daydreamed about dying a heroic death. Especially with the rise of atheistic Communism in the late 40s and early 50s, I imagined being martyred for my faith. That kind of death best imitated the deaths of the saints I frequently heard about in my catechism classes and the pastor’s Sunday sermons. And, more than anything, it mirrored the unjust death Jesus endured for all of us.

But the older I got, the more I began to understand there are deaths, and then there are deaths. Though, as Paul reminds the Romans in today’s second reading, all of us are expected to “die with Christ,” few of us will actually be martyred because of our faith. The vast majority will live rather humdrum lives and our obituaries won’t contain any “front page” material. That’s why today’s first and third readings are so important. They were written for us “humdrummers.”

According to both the author of II Kings and Matthew, one way to die is to help those people of faith who aren’t experiencing such a colorless life – especially prophets. Since, by nature, individuals who minister as the conscience of the people aren’t normally received with open arms by the majority of the “faithful,” one risks a lot by helping them. Yet that’s exactly what the unnamed Shunemite woman does for Elisha and also what Matthew’s Jesus encourages us to do for the prophets in our midst. Of course, according to both authors, we can anticipate some sort of compensation for identifying with such community outcasts. Elisha, for instance, promises the childless woman a son, and the gospel Jesus assures us, “Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward.”

Lest we’re limited only to surfacing and helping prophets, that same gospel pericope also mentions other ways to die. “Whoever receives a righteous person because she or he is righteous will receive a righteous person’s reward.” And on an even broader level, “Those who give only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because that little one is a disciple – amen, I say to you, they will surely not lose their reward.”

But perhaps the broadest way to die is contained in the classic biblical contradiction, “Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my (Jesus’) sake will find it.”

Almost 50 years ago the well-known theologian Fr. David Tracy delivered a lecture at St. Louis University’s Divinity School which still “haunts” me. Entitled The Limitations of Theological Language, it explored the impossibility of referring to God and our relationship with such an infinite person in language we finite humans can actually understand. Tracy’s conclusion: it’s pretty nigh impossible to do that. We’re often relegated to speaking about such life-changing experiences in contradictions. He employed the above quote about losing and finding one’s life as an example.

Maybe that’s the one way each of us can experience a daily martyrdom for our faith. We die to our own logic and agree to suffer the death of stepping into God’s contradictions. By doing so, we’re actually imitating Jesus’ martyrdom for us.

During his earthly ministry he constantly gave himself for others, convinced it was the only way for anyone to experience God working effectively in their daily lives. Of course, as we all know, his selfless giving eventually led to the biggest faith contradiction of all: his crucifixion and resurrection.

At the last meal Jesus ate with his disciples before his Good Friday death, he pleaded with them to carry on his ministry. I presume only those who can live within contradictions are able to successfully pull that off.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
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Zechariah 9:9-10; Romans 8:9, 11-13; Matthew 11:25-30

According to some traditions, during the official ceremony of General Cornwallis’ October 19, 1791 surrender to George Washington at Yorktown, ending the Revolutionary War, the British got the last laugh. Its band sarcastically played a well-known musical ditty entitled The World Turned Upside Down. The song’s lyrics pointed out the absurdity of the world’s military giant surrendering to the 13 Colonies’ ragtag army: “If buttercups buzzed after the bees, if boats were on land and churches on sea, if ponies rode men and grass ate the cows . . . then all the world would be upside down.”

Whether that particular song was actually played during the surrender or not, The World Turned Upside Down could certainly be a valid subtitle for our Sacred Scriptures. Today’s three sacred authors agree.

The prophet Zechariah sets the theme. Probably active shortly after the Chosen People’s 6th century BCE Babylonian Exile, he paints an ideal picture of a restored Holy Land. But the Messiah/King he depicts isn’t the leader most people are anticipating. Though “his dominion shall be from sea to sea and from the River (the Euphrates) to the ends of the earth,” he won’t be a king who depends on military might. According to Zechariah, this king “. . . shall come to you . . . meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass.” Military leaders don’t ride donkeys; they ride horses. Israel’s future messianic king will be unique. He’ll not only refuse to ground his monarchy on military might, he’ll actually disarm the entire country! No one has ever experienced such a king or such a nation. (If by now you’re suspecting the four evangelists based their narratives of Jesus’ “Palm Sunday” entrance into Jerusalem on Zechariah 9, you’re not alone. Every Scripture scholar I know shares your suspicions.)

This image of an upside-down world is certainly carried over into the Christian Scriptures.

Paul, for instance, warns the Christian community in Rome not to go through life depending solely on what they can experience through the “flesh.” For followers of the risen Jesus, there’s a whole other world, a world which the Spirit creates every day of our lives. It’s in this dying/rising world that we’re expected to live. That’s why the Apostle assures us, “If you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Only by giving ourselves over to Jesus’ Spirit can we faithfully imitate Jesus’ upside-down behavior.

Once we do that, Matthew’s Jesus tells us we’ll begin looking at the people around us through different eyes. No longer do we focus on the rich and powerful, neither do we zero in only on the “wise and learned.” For followers of Jesus, the most important inhabitants of this planet are the “little ones:” those who daily go through life laboring and burdened. Imitating Jesus, our task is to provide “rest” for them, something people would logically put at the bottom of their “to do list,” if it even appears on it at all. For other Christs, the world’s top becomes the bottom, and the bottom, the top.

It’s ironic (or providential), considering America’s participation in World Wars I & II, if it weren’t for those victorious thirteen colonies, Great Britain, as we know it, might not even exist today.

Perhaps the only way to definitively save this world is to turn it upside down. Our sacred authors and the historical Jesus might have been centuries ahead of themselves in expecting their readers and followers to be motivated by such a preposterous value system. But, if it works . . . .


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Isaiah 55:10-11; Romans 8:18-23; Matthew 13:1-23

We often forget that the oracles of individual prophets which have been collected into the books bearing their names weren’t transcribed in the order in which the original prophets chronologically delivered them. The prophecies have been artificially – and carefully - arranged by the prophet’s disciples who actually collected and “published” them, often years or generations after their mentor’s death. By that time, events had frequently taken place which altered the way those followers both looked at and presented the prophet’s words.

Even today we still engage in such “up-to-date” alterations. Perusing the classic movie channels, I can’t help but notice when the actress Nancy Davis appears in pre-1952 movies, the credits almost always list her as “Nancy Reagan,” a name she didn’t have until after her 1952 marriage to the future president. On the other hand, Jane Wyman – Ronald Reagan's first wife who wasn’t fortunate to become the country’s First Lady - is always listed as “Jane Wyman,” no matter in what movie she appears!

After his martyrdom, Deutero-Isaiah’s followers not only saved his consoling statement about the power of Yahweh’s word, they deliberately placed it at the chapter 55 end of their collection of his prophecies. Though the Babylonian Exile had ended around 530 BCE and they were finally permitted to return to the Promised Land, much of what their mentor had assured them would happened had still not seen the light of day. Those longed-for events continued to be buried in the words the prophet had proclaimed. Yet they, like he, were convinced once Yahweh’s words had been spoken it was only a matter of time before they would take effect. “For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth . . . so shall my (Yahweh’s) word be that goes forth from my mouth . . . .” Eventually it will “achieve the end for which (Yahweh) sent it.”

Placing this oracle at the end of their collection makes it both a sign of their faith in Yahweh’s word, and a reminder that God’s disciples are committed to this faith thing for the long run. The years of water that passed unfulfilled under their life’s bridge had convinced them of that latter reality. They couldn’t have better summarized their experience of waiting.

Jesus’ first followers had parallel experiences. In today’s second reading, for instance, our earliest Christian biblical author, Paul, shares some of his insights about waiting “for the redemption of our bodies.” The Apostle is convinced it’s not enough that we’ve personally been transformed by our dying and rising with Jesus, we want the whole world to undergo the same metamorphosis. It’s no accident his letter to the Romans is one of his last writings. Paul’s been waiting for a long time. No wonder he states his belief “. . . that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now.” It certainly hasn’t been a peaceful wait.

Our gospel pericope provides us with a classic example of an “original” parable of Jesus (verses 1-9) which has later been “allegorized” by the early Christian community and applied to a situation the historical Jesus never encountered - people giving up the faith (verses 18-23). The historical Jesus seems to have originally told this story to those who accused him of wasting his time preaching God’s kingdom. Though they point out almost no one will ever follow through on what he’s teaching, he has no plans to stop. He’s convinced the few who actually do carry out his words will produce “a hundred, or sixty or thirtyfold.”

The wait for God’s word to be fulfilled is always worth it, no matter what’s happening in our lives.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



Wisdom 12:13, 16-19; Romans 8:26-27; Matthew 13:24-43

One of Ed Hays’ best-known stories – in his classic book Twelve and a Half Keys – concerns a young man encountering the devil one night on a movie theater parking lot. At first he thinks Satan’s there to buy his soul. But the devil quickly assures him he has warehouses full of souls; he doesn’t need another one. He’s interested in buying his dreams. If he can make that deal, he can change the future of the world.

Fortunately the young man refuses to sell.

But Ed hit on something with which our sacred authors can identify. Once we give up on our dreams, we’re giving up on changing our world for the better.

I often remind my students that the early Christian community is more concerned with having the faith of Jesus than in acquiring faith in Jesus. That’s a whole new faith ballgame. Both the historical and gospel Jesus’ faith is unique; it revolves around transforming our world by giving ourselves for others. If we refuse to make his dreams our dream, we’re destined to one day go out of the same world we originally entered. Nothing will have changed for the better because we were part of this world.

The main problem dreamers encounter is time. It constantly whittles away our hopes and plans for a better world. Things just never seem to turn out when and in the way we expect. It’s simply a lot easier to eventually “sell” our dreams and go with the flow.

As a priest for over 52 years, I can certainly vouch for that sellout. It was symbolic that on the morning I was ordained in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, I and my family had to weave our way under the scaffolding set up to hold the seats for the Vatican II participants. The dreams generated in that Council undoubtedly became the dreams of the majority of my North American College class of 1965. We envisioned a church quite different from the one in which we were being ordained.

For a while some of those dreams came true. Yet it was always a struggle. Eventually many of my priest brothers felt forced to leave the active ministry in order to realize those dreams. And especially after the 1978 Vatican regime change, most of our dreams were officially plowed under. Getting back to the faith of Jesus was put on the church’s back burner. For the sake of our ecclesiastical careers, or just to get some peace in our lives, lots of us mid-60s priests kept our souls, but sold our dreams for less than 30 pieces of silver. The fight just wasn’t worth it anymore.

Perhaps that’s one of the reasons Matthew’s Jesus clicks off three parables about patience in today’s gospel pericope. Echoing the Wisdom author’s call for hope, Matthew is convinced we Christians are always going to have to deal with weeds in our fields. We’re never going to be working in ideal situations or relating to ideal people. Yet no matter our imperfect day and age, we’re always to be “righteous” – to constantly build right relationships with God and those around us.

Following Paul’s advice to the community in Rome, we have to learn to accept our own weaknesses, confident that God’s Spirit always knows who we actually are. Jesus’ dreams might be as minute as a mustard seed or a cake of yeast. Yet if we weak ministers of his words and actions abandon those dreams, the next generation of dreamers will have to wait even longer for the world to change.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring for those who continue to dream? I personally never thought I’d live long enough to experience a Pope Francis. Yet . . . .


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222



I Kings 3:5, 7-12; Romans 8:28-30; Matthew 13:44-52

Author and speaker John Shea frequently reminds his audiences that the historical Jesus’ ministry revolved around three questions. What do you want out of life? Where do you get it? How much does it cost?

This Galilean carpenter certainly wasn’t the first biblical person to get involved with those three topics.

In our I Kings passage, Yahweh asks Solomon what he wants out of life. Surprisingly the king responds, “Give your servant an understanding heart.” Should Yahweh have problems with the term, Solomon quickly defines such a heart. It’s the ability “to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.”

Scholars who deal with biblical Wisdom Literature – Psalms, Proverbs, etc. – contend that those with understanding hearts are wise in the scriptural sense. They can perceive God at work in their world, and know how they should respond to his/her presence. Three thousand years ago, our sacred authors believed people thought not with their brains, but with their hearts. (Their emotions, on the other hand, originated in their kidneys, not their hearts. That’s why, for instance, lovers referred to one another as my “sweet kidney” and gave kidney-shaped boxes of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.) Truly wise persons have geared their hearts to think the way Yahweh wants and expects them to think.

In some sense, that’s how the evangelist Matthew conceives of himself. He actually shares an Alfred Hitchcock moment with us in today’s pericope. Just as the famous director suddenly shows up in almost all his movies, so Matthew shows up in his gospel. He’s the “. . . scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven . . . the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.”

As a good Jew, his storeroom of faith overflows with the “old,” as a good follower of Jesus, he’s also involved with the “new,” constantly experiencing the “kingdom of heaven” in his everyday life. Finding the risen Jesus working effectively in all he does and everyone he encounters can only be compared to discovering a buried treasure or coming upon a pearl of great price. Both fulfill the dreams of a lifetime.

Yet even when we eventually surface that “thing” for which we’ve spent our lives searching, we still have to deal with the price for acquiring it. Paul pulls no punches when it comes to the cost. In today’s second reading, he reminds the church in Rome that we have to be “. . . conformed to the image of God’s Son.” In other words, in order to be “justified,” we must become other Christs. That’s the only way we can be certain we’re doing what God wants us to do, that we actually have an understanding heart. Though we believe “all things work for good for those who love God,” that only happens to those who give themselves over to dying and rising with Jesus – the price God demands.

Among other things, that means we have to commit ourselves to working with a “mixed net;” we can’t just work with those who, like us, are trying to do what God expects us to do. But we’re not only to just work with the “wicked,” we’re to constantly give ourselves to them. It doesn’t matter if our love is returned or rejected, it must always be given. That’s part of the cost of conforming ourselves to the image of God’s Son.

Obviously paying such a price isn’t something we take care of once a lifetime, then forget about it. We not only pay it every day, we discover it changes every day. On the other hand, we also discover a new treasure every day, a constantly changing treasure.


This essay comes to you from FOSIL, The Faithful of Southern Illinois,
Email:, or write FOSIL, P.O. Box 31, Belleville, IL, 62222

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Each archive file has two articles with the most recent at the bottom.

2017 Essays
July 23 & 30, 2017
July 9 & 16, 2017
June 25 & July 2, 2017
June 11 & 18, 2017
May 28 & June 4, 2017
May 21 & 25 or 28, 2017
May 7 & 14, 2017
April 23 & 30, 2017
April 13 & 15(vigil), 2017
April 2 & 9, 2017
March 19 & 26, 2017
March 5 & 12, 2017
February 19 & 26, 2017
February 5 & 12, 2017
January 22 & 29, 2017
January 8 & 15, 2017

2016 Essays

December 25, 2016, & January 1, 2017
December 11 & 18, 2016
November 27 & December 4, 2016
November 13 & 20, 2016
October 30 & November 6, 2016
October 16 & 23, 2016
October 2 & 9, 2016
September 18 & 25, 2016
September 4 & 11, 2016
August 21 & 28, 2016
August 7 & 14, 2016
July 24 & 31, 2016
July 10 & 17, 2016
June 26 and July 3, 2016
Jun 12 & June 19, 2016
May 29 & June 5, 2016
May 15 & May 22, 2016
May 5 & May 8, 2016
April 24 & May 1, 2016
April 10 & April 17, 2016
March 27 and April 3, 2016
March 24 & 26, 2016
March 13 & 20, 2016
February 28 and March 6, 2016
February 14 and 21, 2016
January 31 and February 7, 2016
January 17 and 24, 2016
January 3 and 10, 2016

2015 Essays
December 25 and 27, 2015
December 13, 20 and 25, 2015
November 29 and December 6, 2015
November 15 and 22, 2015
November 1 and 8, 2015
October 18 and 25, 2015
October 4 and 11, 2015
September 20 and 27, 2015
September 6 and 13, 2015
August 23 and 30, 2015
August 9 and 16, 2015
July 26 and August 2, 2015
July 12 and 19, 2015
June 28 and July 5, 2015
June 14 and 21, 2015
May 31 and June 7, 2015
May 17 and 24, 2015
May 10 and May 14 or 17, 2015
April 26 and May 3, 2015
April 12 and 19, 2015
April 4 and 5, 2015
March 29 and April 2, 2015
March 15 and 22, 2015
March 1 and 8, 2015
February 15 and 22, 2015
February 1 and 8, 2015
January 18 and 25, 2015
January 4 and 11, 2015

2014 Essays
December 25 & 28, 2014
December 14 & 21, 2014
November 30 & December 7, 2014
November 16 & 23, 2014
November 2 and 9, 2014
October 19 & 26, 2014
October 5 & 12, 2014
September 21 & 28, 2014
September 7 & 14, 2014
August 24 and 31, 2014
August 10 and 17, 2014
July 27 and August 3, 2014
July 13 and July 20, 2014
June 29 and July 6, 2014
June 15 and June 22, 2014
June 1 and June 8, 2014
May 25 and May 29, 2014
May 11 and May 18, 2014
April 27 and May 4, 2014
April 19 & 20, 2014
April 13 & 17, 2014
March 30 & April 6, 2014
March 16 & 23, 2014
March 2 & 9, 2014
February 16 & 23, 2014
February 2 & 9, 2014
January 19 & 26, 2014
January 5 & 12, 2014

2013 Essays
December 25 & 29, 2013
December 15 & 22, 2013
December 1 & 8, 2013
November 17 & 24, 2013
November 3 & 10, 2013
October 20 and 27, 2013
October 6 and 13, 2013
September 22 and 29, 2013
September 8 and 15, 2013
August 25 and September 1, 2013
August 11 and 18, 2013
July 28 and August 4, 2013
July 14 and 21, 2013
June 30 and July 7, 2013
Jun 16 & 23, 2013
Jun 2 & 9, 2013
May 19 & 26, 2013
May 9 & 12, 2013
April 28 and May 5, 2013
April 14 and 21, 2013
March 30 and April 7, 2013
March 24 and 28, 2013
March 10 and 17, 2013
February 24 and March 3, 2013
February 10 and 17, 2013
January 27 and February 3, 2013
January 13 and 20, 2013
December 30, 2012, and January 6, 2013

2012 Essays
December 23 & 25, 2012
December 9 & 16, 2012
November 25 and December 2, 2012
November 11 and 18, 2012
October 28 and November 4, 2012
October 14 and October 21, 2012
September 30 and October 7, 2012
September 16 and September 23, 2012
September 2 and September 9, 2012
August 19 and August 26, 2012
August 5 and August 12, 2012
July 22 and July 29, 2012
July 8 and July 15, 2012
June 24 and July 1, 2012
June 10 and 17, 2012
May 27 and June 3, 2012
May 17 and May 20, 2012
May 6 and May 13, 2012
April 22 and April 29, 2012
April 7 (Easter Vigil) and April 15, 2012
March 25 and April 1, 2012
March 11 and March 18, 2012
February 26 and March 4, 2012
February 12 and February 19, 2012
January 29 and February 5, 2012
January 15 and January 22, 2012
January 1 and January 8, 2012

2011 Essays
December 18 and December 25, 2011
December 4 and December 11, 2011
November 20 and November 27, 2011
November 6 and November 13, 2011
October 23 and October 30, 2011
October 9 and October 16, 2011
September 25 and October 2, 2011
September 18, 2011
September 4, 2011
August 21, 2011
August 07, 2011
July 24, 2011
July 10, 2011
June 26, 2011
June 12, 2011
June 6, 2011
May 22, 2011
May 5, 2011
April 10, 2011
May 8th, 2011
April 24, 2011
April 3, 2011
March 20, 2011
March 6, 2011
February 20, 2011
February 6, 2011
January 30, 2011
January 16, 2011
January 2, 2011

2010 Essays
December 25, 2010
December 10, 2010
November 28, 2010
November 14, 2010



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