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Roger Karban

Ordained in Rome in 1964, Roger R. Karban was a priest of the Diocese of Belleville, Illinois, until his death, July 10, 2020, at age 80. He received a Licentiate in Theology from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome and did his doctoral studies in Scripture at St. Louis University, the genrously and widely shared his scholarly expertise in the Sacred Scriptures.

Karban was the chair of religion departments at Mater Dei and Gibault Catholic High Schools, director of the diocesan diaconate program and the administrator of Our Lady of Good Council Parish, Renault, IL.

A part-time faculty member of St. Louis University and Southwestern Illinois College, he taught the Bible as literature.He also taught adult weekly scripture classes in Belleville, Breese, Carbondale and Lebanon, IL, and with the vision of Vatican II, Karban presented workshops, not only in the diocese, but throughout the country.

FOSIL is determined to keep archives of his teachings online indefinitely.



Roger's Essays

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Wisdom 1:13-15; 2:23-24; II Corinthians 8:7, 9, 13-15; Mark 5:21-43

I can’t stress enough the importance of today’s Wisdom reading. It contains a biblical smoking gun, something for which scholars searched for centuries.

The idea of an afterlife didn’t come into Jewish theology until a century before Jesus’ birth. Before then, this present life was the only life we could expect. Everything had to happen between our physical birth and death. Then, almost out of nowhere, Pharisees begin to teach that, if we keep our noses clean, we can live eternally with Yahweh. Though most Jews eventually accepted some form of that belief, the big question was, “Where did they get such a faith-changing insight?” Yahweh doesn’t seem to have simply appeared to someone and let them in on the secret.

Originally most scholars reasoned these particular Pharisees must have somehow come in contact with Greek thinkers who believed we have an immaterial soul, a part of us than never decays. It’ll live on forever, even after our physical deaths. The only problem with that explanation was that no one could find an actual contact between Jews and Greeks. There was no smoking gun.

Then, about thirty years ago, some experts, like the late Roland Murphy, began to realize the weapon is right in front of us, in Wisdom 1:15: “For justice is undying.”

Since justice is the biblical way of referring to the proper relationships we have with God and those around us, it appears the Pharisees figured because Yahweh is immortal, anyone in a just relationship with Yahweh will also be immortal. If God wants to keep their relationship going after death, they’ll live forever.

Certainly more meaningful to root immortality in a union with God instead of an “accident” of nature. That also seems why the prophets and Jesus of Nazareth so frequently stress our tie-in with God and the people around us. Those relations guarantee eternity.

Paul is deeply convinced that interacting with the people we encounter in our lives is how we work out our salvation, but only if we do so in a giving relationship. He reminds his Corinthian community that we’re simply to imitate Jesus’ oneness with ourselves. “Though he was rich,” the Apostle writes, “for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.” By giving life to others, we gain eternal life.

Mark’s Jesus does precisely that in today’s gospel pericope, resuscitating Jairus’ daughter and healing the woman with the uterine bleeding. Notice in doing the latter, the evangelist remarks Jesus was “. . . aware that power had gone out of him.” Often we imagine the historical Jesus simply snapped his fingers and good things happened. We don’t realize those good things drained Jesus. He was weakened every time he helped someone.

Perhaps that’s why one of the elements joining both the afflicted woman and Jairus is their faith. Dozens of people touch Jesus on the way to Jairus’ house. But only one touches him with faith. When Jairus is informed his quest to get Jesus to heal is daughter is futile - she’s died – Jesus simply says, “Do not be afraid, just have faith.”

Life-giving relationships are always faith relationships. Just like eternity is beyond our present understanding, so the actions that guarantee us eternity are also beyond our present understanding. On face value they don’t always seem to be worth the effort and draining they demand.

Since in Romans 1 Paul seems to believe Jesus only becomes God at his death and resurrection, in his theology Jesus gains his own eternal life by relating in a giving way with people like the woman along the road and Jairus’ daughter. If it’s good enough for Jesus . . . .


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



Ezekiel 2:2-5; II Corinthians 12:7-10; Mark 6:1-6a

The earliest Christian author, Paul, reached that tough conclusion very quickly after his conversion. “I will . . . boast most gladly of my weaknesses,” he tells the Corinthians, “in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.” Seems to be a total contradiction in terms, something that doesn’t make sense on paper.

Yet it works! Using a modern idiom, the Apostle’s telling his community, “Try it! You’ll like it!” It’s a hard to explain faith experience. Unless we’re courageous enough to actually experience it, it’s something only theologians discuss, rarely a truth we make our own. But if we’re serious about becoming other Christs, we have to be willing to imitate the first Christ.

With that imitation in mind, it’s important to listen carefully to our gospel pericope. Though this passage is from Mark, subconsciously we’re probably hearing Matthew, the account which better fits into our catechism theology, especially at two points in the narrative.

First, Mark initially mentions that one of the reasons Jesus’ hometown folks put him down is because he’s a nobody. “Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother . . . .?” Obviously carpenters were far down on every first century CE Palestinian economic ladder. It didn’t take a lot of smarts to make your living just sawing and hammering nails in wood. Certainly didn’t make anyone an expert in theology, nor provide them a platform from which to preach Yahweh’s word. No good Jew is obligated to listen to an uneducated bumpkin.

Second, at the end of the passage Mark makes an unbelievable (for Christians) statement: “He (Jesus) was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from . . . . He was amazed at their lack of faith.” How can this be? We were taught Jesus, as God, is able to do anything. (We even had a grade school discussion on the possibility of his drawing a “square/circle!”) You mean Mark’s informing us there’s something not even God can do? Without peoples’ faith in him, Jesus is helpless.

In copying Mark, Matthew took care of these two missteps. First, he changed Jesus from being the carpenter to being the “son of the carpenter.” Quite a switch. This itinerant preacher no longer has a lowly occupation. The gospel Jesus becomes, like Ward Cleaver, a man without a profession. No longer can he be put down for where, or how he works.

Second, Matthew also changes Mark’s comment that Jesus “could not” work any miracles to Jesus “did not work” any miracles. The presupposition is he could have done so, but for some reason, freely decided not to. A huge difference.

In both situations, Mark, agreeing with Paul, provides us with a weaker Jesus than Matthew. We presume the historical Jesus found no problem serving Yahweh in a way that exposed his weaknesses. No doubt he frequently reflected on the problems Ezekiel experienced as a prophet in today’s first reading.

The late Rudolf Bultmann often reminded his students that Jesus, the preacher, eventually became Jesus, the preached. Long before his followers began to preach him, the historical Jesus had to deal with the weakness that accompanies preaching God’s word. If we’re really another Christ, we’re the preaching, not the preached other Christ. We imitate a mentor who had to discover the strength that comes from falling back on God’s strength, not his own. There’s no other way to do what God expects us to do.


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



Amos 7:12-15; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:7-13

The historical Jesus wasn’t a one-man show, literally. One of the reasons our evangelists composed their gospels was to demonstrate how the individuals this Galilean carpenter inspired were to work together in expanding his ministry. From the beginning, he shares his dream and his ministry with his followers. Today’s gospel pericope is classic. “Jesus summoned the Twelve,” Mark writes, “and began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over unclean spirits.”

It’s essential to remember that, according to Mark, the most important ministry for Jesus’ followers is to engage in eradicating evil. That’s why the first miracle his Jesus works is to exorcize a demoniac. In 1st century CE Palestine, demons were responsible for all sorts of evil; moral, physical, psychological. You name an evil, a demon caused it. So when Jesus gives some of his followers the power to eradicate demons, he’s actually giving them the power to eradicate evil, wherever and in whomever it’s found.

It’s also important that the Twelve are mentioned in this context. Flying in the face of our grade school catechisms, they’re not the first bishops or priests. They’re simply symbolic of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. (That’s why no women are included in their number. These Twelve Tribes began with Jacob’s twelve sons. You throw one woman in with them and the symbolism the historical Jesus tries to convey will be destroyed.)

According to modern scholars, the historical Jesus had no intention of founding a church as we know it; he simply wanted to reform Judaism – all of Judaism, not just the two preeminent tribes of Judah and Benjamin. In his plan, minor tribes like Dan and Naphtali were to play just as much a role in that reform as the two major tribes. It was a wide open reform; all are empowered to eradicate evil, not just the “privileged.” In this passage, Jesus intentionally sends out representatives of all, to all.

We smile at some of the practical helps Mark’s Jesus gives his disciples to aid in carrying out their ministry: where to stay, what to wear, how much money to take along, even what to do when rejected. Yet, no matter the obstacles they encountered, they “drove out many demons.” They wiped out evil.

Yet, as the author of Ephesians writes, no matter the results, they should simply be grateful they, of all people, were chosen for this life and world-changing work. For some reason, they “heard the word of truth, the good news of salvation, and have believed in him (Jesus).” No one can argue with God’s choice.

This is especially true when we cross paths with the earliest “book prophet:” Amos. As a wilderness shepherd he’s most unlikely to be chosen one of Yahweh’s prophets. I wish we had a snapshot of his encounter with Amaziah, or just a whiff of the smell emanating from the prophet. The contrast between the two was memorable. Carroll Stuhlmueller once commented, “If Amos took a bath once a year, he’d have been filthy clean. Besides, can you picture him ever using a handkerchief to blow his nose?” Yet, “Yahweh took (him) from following the flock, and said to (him), ‘Go prophesy to my people Israel.’” The word of Yahweh he proclaimed was infinitely more powerful than Amaziah’s priestly robes and the office he held. Which of the two eradicated more evil?

My oncologist recently inquired about our acute priest shortage. “It’s easy to understand,” I replied. “Can you imagine how many oncologists we’d have if we limited them to male celibates?”

I’d really be careful about who we, the church, refuses to call for ministry. If we’re not imitating Jesus’ openness, we’ll have to answer for a lot of the evil we encounter.


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



Jeremiah 23:1-6; Ephesians 2:13-18; Mark 6:30-34

When John McKenzie wrote his now classic Authority in the Church in the late 60s, he shook up lots of Catholics, pointing out that our sacred authors are much more concerned with the authority sins of our leaders than those of the general populace. Followers of God should be more conscious of how authority is exercised than how it’s obeyed. Today’s three readings certainly reinforce the late Jesuit’s thesis.

Many of us don’t appreciate the biblical separation of ministries and/or gifts. For instance, we frequently confuse those who exercise authority – the administrators – with those who proclaim God’s will – the prophets. Prophets are the people’s conscience; unique individuals who give us the future implications of our present actions. Administrators, on the other hand, surface and listen to the prophets and put their words into concrete actions, demonstrating how to make God’s will part of our everyday lives. (Carroll Stuhlmueller was convinced prophets normally make lousy administrators; administrators, lousy prophets.)

When our sacred authors challenge those in authority to get their act together, they’re accusing them of not instructing people to live their faith as God wants it to be lived. Almost always, these administrators aren’t living it correctly themselves, so it’s no wonder those in their care aren’t living it correctly.

The message God wants prophets to proclaim and administrators to carry out certainly isn’t easy to accept. It has nothing to do with religious rituals or catechism trivia. It goes to the heart not only of one’s faith, but to one’s personal value system.

The Pauline disciple responsible for Ephesians leaves no doubt about how difficult it is to be committed to the message he proclaims. As a disciple of the risen Jesus, he’s expected to work on forming diverse people into one community of faith. In this situation, it’s those who are “far off” (Gentiles) and those who are “near” (Jews). He’s expected to “break down the dividing wall of enmity” that separates them, something we haven’t been able to successfully pull off to this day.

Six hundred years before Jesus’ birth, Jeremiah realized his fellow Jews couldn’t even unify their own people. Yahweh had prophetically sent the right message, but the “shepherds” – the kings – hadn’t passed it on to the ordinary people. The prophet saw only one solution: replace the shepherds, and send one special, prophetic shepherd – the messiah – to take care of the problem once and for all. That’s where today’s gospel comes in.

Jesus has just sent out his disciples to eradicate evil (last week’s commentary.) Now they’ve returned for a little r&r. In the process Jesus mentions one of the main things motivating his ministry. “When he . . . saw the vast crowd his heart was moved with pity . . . for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.” If they’re not blessed with good leaders, Jesus simply must step in and personally exercise that ministry. But, just as he did in the prior passage, he shares his ministry with his followers.

Sadly, we never hear that part of Mark’s theology. It’s contained in a passage omitted from our liturgical readings: the miraculous feeding of the people. In Mark’s version of the event, the disciples do the actual feeding. Jesus’ role is simply to motivate them to share their meager food, then bless it before they distribute it. It’s their food; they do the sharing.

Jesus’ message is that we become one by sharing what little we have with others. We no longer need to fall back on what our leaders say, or don’t say. We carry on the ministry of Jesus. We don’t need more authority than that.

We just can’t forget what Scripture says about those in authority.


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 4:42-44; Ephesians 4:1-6; John 6:1-15

Regular readers of this commentary know what to expect today. Every three years I begin the same way. This is the Sunday which reminds me of a unique experience.

Back in the 50s, our high school seminary had regular three-reel Sunday night movies. Because we had just one projector, we had two, ten-minute breaks, giving the projectionist time to change the reels and the rest of us time to use the rest room. One memorable Sunday we came back for the second reel, only to discover the movie people had picked the wrong reel. It was from a completely different movie! We dutifully sat through it, took our break, and returned to view the third reel of the original film. Exactly what we do on the Seventeenth Sunday of the Year, B Cycle.

We’ve been going through Mark’s gospel, until we reach his first account of the “bread miracle.” Then, for the next five Sundays, Mark’s movie is interrupted by John’s movie. Finally on the Twenty-Second Sunday we return to Mark.

All of us in the seminary gym that night immediately realized the difference between the second and third reels. Sadly, only a rare person recognizes the difference between Mark’s bread miracle and John’s. To most people they sound alike. We haven’t been trained to recognize each evangelist’s unique theology.

Briefly, Mark stresses the role of the community in the feeding; John zeros in on Jesus’ role. Mark emphasizes the peoples’ action; John focuses on the bread and wine itself.

Only our Ephesians passage brings up the community’s importance, but the faithful’s humility, gentleness and patience aren’t directly connected to any bread miracle.

Except for the man from Baal-shalishah who supplies the twenty barley loaves, only Elisha plays a role in our II Kings feeding. Except for eating the miraculous bread, no other person participates in the process.

In our gospel pericope, Jesus’ disciples help only by informing him about the boy who has the five barley loaves and two fish, and then prepare the “large crowd” for the imminent banquet. The food they share isn’t even their own.

But it’s significant for John that this “sign” takes place in the context of Passover. Notice that John, unlike the other three evangelists, doesn’t have Jesus institute the Eucharist at the Last Supper. (He institutes another “sacrament” then: the foot-washing.) His Jesus gives us the Eucharist here, at the miraculous feeding. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons John’s Jesus is in total control of the situation. He, for instance, knows what he’s going to do even before he finds out about the boy’s bread and fish.

Though it might have historically taken Jesus’ first disciples a while to understand the implications of what he said and did during the meal they shared on the night before he died, John makes it clear the “Prophet” had everything precisely worked out in advance, exactly what we would presume of someone who’s also God.

It’s this divine person who enters the deepest parts of our lives during the Lord’s Supper. We’ll see and hear the implications of that unity during the next weeks. It’s a unique experience.

But now it’s enough to understand that Jesus is the one who’s started this process. He loves us enough to share his actual body and blood with us; shares it enough that no matter how much we receive from him, there’s always “leftovers.” His giving never runs out.

Our role is simply to understand this gift in the right way. John’s not only going to make certain we will, he’ll give us the reason this gift is essential to the faith the risen Jesus wishes to share with us. We not only share his faith, we actually share him.


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



Exodus 16:2-4, 12-15; Ephesians 4:17, 20-24; John 6:24-25

Whenever we come across grumbling and griping during the Exodus, we know that particular passage comes from the “Yahwistic source.” That particular author had to deal with a fair amount of grumbling and griping in her own community. Somehow they felt left out of Yahweh’s salvation history. Though God had worked “signs and wonders” during the Israelites’ first centuries, now, shortly after King David’s death in the 10th century BCE, people were beginning to believe those glory days were in the past, gone forever. They couldn’t perceive any traces of Yahweh’s care and concern in their everyday lives. They simply were born too late. Nothing left to do but complain about their fate.

At this point the Yahwistic author steps in and reminds them of something they’ve overlooked: the Exodus Israelites also grumbled and griped. Though Yahweh’s signs and wonders are all around them, they aren’t “explicit” enough to remove all doubts. When the slightest problem arises – like hunger – they jump to the conclusion God’s left them, and the complaining starts.

It’s important that Scripture scholars are convinced today’s double miracle – manna and quail – can be explained by natural phenomena. The manna, by the nightly secretion of insects on trees and bushes; the quail, by native bird migrations. Anyone adept in survival techniques would have been familiar with both. What was natural for native Bedouins was miraculous for a bunch of runaway slaves. One could easily miss God’s hand in the natural around us.

Along the same line, the Pauline disciple responsible for Ephesians hammers away at the “metanoia” necessary for all Jesus’ followers. Believers and non-believers live in the same world. We basically experience the same things. The difference revolves around how we interpret those experiences. Having a different value system, we’re able to see, hear and touch things others miss. We sense things through the faith of Jesus. The risen Jesus doesn’t normally step in and change reality for our benefit, working miracles on a daily basis. He/she simply helps us see, hear and touch the miraculous that’s already there.

In a way, that’s what John’s Jesus helps us do when we encounter the Eucharist. Though Paul – in I Corinthians 11 – expects the faithful to acknowledge the fundamental difference between a group of people eating lunch at McDonald’s and a faith community sharing a Eucharistic meal, John focuses on the fundamental difference between regular table bread and wine and Eucharistic bread and wine. According to John’s Jesus, the former takes care of our bodily hunger and thirst, the latter, our spirit’s hunger and thirst. Obviously the latter is essential to living a truly fulfilled life.

When compared to the Exodus manna, no matter how miraculous, those nightly insect secretions can’t measure up. Those bread-like flakes only satisfied the Israelites for a day. The Eucharistic bread, on the other hand, will stop us from ever hungering again. This bread morphs into the “bread of life” for which we constantly hunger, even when our stomachs are full.

I presume without these John 6 passages we’d have no tabernacles in our churches. Following Paul, we’d genuflect in front of the community, not the Eucharistic bread. Yet it’s good to see how our understanding of the Eucharist has changed its emphasis through the years.

There’s certainly nothing wrong with evolution, as long as we don’t forget Scripture’s earlier emphasis, as we obviously did for centuries. The problem is, it costs us very little to acknowledge the presence of Jesus in the bread and wine. On the other hand, experiencing Jesus in the community causes us to have a constant death, especially if some of those people belong to a different race, social status or even just a different political party.


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 or more articles with the most recent at the bottom.

2021 Essays
May 23 through July 18, 2021, Pentecost through 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time
April 11 through May 16, 2021
February 14 through April 4
January 17 through February 7, 2021
January 3 & 10, 2021

2020 Essays
December 27, 2020, and January 1, 2021
December 20 & 25, 2020
December 6 & 13, 2020
November 22 & 29, 2020
November 8 & 15, 2020
October 25 & November 1, 2020
October 11 & 18, 2020
September 27 & October 4, 2020
September 13 & 20, 2020
August 30 & September 6, 2020
August 16 & 23, 2020
August 2 & 9, 2020
July 19 & 26, 2020
July 5 & 12, 2020
June 21 & 28, 2020
June 7 & 14, 2020
May 21, 24 & 31, 2020
May 10 & 17, 2020

2019 Essays
June 30 & July 6, 2019
June 16 & 23, 2019
May 30 or June 2 & June 9, 2019
May 19 & 26, 2019
May 5 & 12, 2019
April 20 & 28, 2019
April 14 & 18, 2019
March 31 & April 7, 2019
March 17 & 24, 2019
March 3 & 10, 2019
February 17 & 24, 2019
February 3 & 10, 2019
January 20 & 27, 2019
January 6 & 13, 2019

2018 Essays

December 25 & 30, 2018
December 16 & 23, 2018
December 2 & 9, 2018
November 18 & 25, 2018
November 4 & 11, 2018
October 21 & 28, 2018
October 7 & 14, 2018
September 23 & 30, 2018
September 9 & 16, 2018
August 26 & September 2, 2018
August 12 & 19, 2018
July 29 & August 5, 2018
July 15 & 22, 2018
July 1 & 8, 2018
June 17 & 24, 2018
June 3 & 10, 2018
May 20 & 27, 2018
May 10 & 13 2018
April 29 & May 6, 2018
April 15 & 22, 2018
March 31 (vigil) & April, 2018
March 25 & 29, 2018
March 11 & 18, 2018
February 25 & March 4, 2018
February 11 & 18, 2018
January 28 & February 4, 2018
January 14 & 21, 2018

2017 Essays

December 31, 2017, & January 7, 2018
December 24 & 25, 2017
December 10 & 17, 2017
November 26 & December 3, 2017
November 12 & 19, 2017
October 29 & November 5, 2017
October 15 & 22, 2017
October 1 & 8, 2017
September 17 & 24, 2017
September 3 & 10, 2017
August 20 & 27, 2017
August 6 & 13, 2017
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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