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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.



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Amos 8:47; I Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

[Editor's note: While Father Roger Karban recovers from an illness, FOSIL reprints a column from 2016:]

Contrary to popular Christian belief, the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures weren’t sent by Yahweh to predict the coming of the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth. The late Raymond Brown always reminded his students and readers, “There are no Old Testament predictions of Jesus as we know Jesus.” Through the centuries we’ve given prophetic statements meanings which the original prophets never intended to convey. If prophets simply predicted an event which would only take place hundreds of years down the road, why did so many of them die with their sandals on?

It’s essential to see prophets as part of their day and age, not our day and age. They’re the conscience of the people, reminding them of how God wants them to live their lives, constantly pointing out how they’re living counter to God’s plan. No one does this better than the first of the “book prophets:” Amos.

Active in 8th century BCE Israel, Amos does what all prophets do: he goes to the “good folk,” showing how they’re practicing a faith which isn’t Yahweh’s faith. It’s historically easy to practice a religion which at times actually leads people away from God’s plan. If the prophet’s audiences aren’t at least outwardly committed to carrying out God’s will the prophet doesn’t have much of an argument when he or she proclaims God’s message.

That’s why Amos delivers the oracles in today’s first reading at the national shrine of Bethel: one of Israel’s most sacred sanctuaries. He’s addressing people who think they’re good Jews, individuals who among other things keep the religious regulations surrounding the new moon and the Sabbath. If they didn’t they wouldn’t be at Bethel. But he points out that once these holy times are over those who so faithfully frequent the national shrine “trample on the needy and destroy the poor of the land.” They use false weights when they sell their grain, and are willing to accept bribes (“a pair of sandals”) in their dealings with the poor and lowly. They go so far as to even sell “the refuse of the wheat” to those whose severe hunger forces them to buy it.

It’s no accident that the Pauline disciple responsible for I Timothy longs for followers of Jesus “to lead a quiet and tranquil life in all devotion and dignity.” We share his wish that people “should pray, lifting up holy hands, without anger or argument.” All of us hope to live a peaceful existence. Yet the gospel Jesus teaches that because of the prophetic aspect of being other Christs, that isn’t always possible.

In today’s gospel pericope, Luke’s Jesus reminds us that carrying on his ministry doesn’t happen by accident. It usually takes a lot of planning. He conveys that reality by pointing out the obvious: people work at doing evil much harder than they work at doing good. The unjust steward is ingenious in making certain his master’s debtors “will welcome (him) into their homes” after he’s been fired. Jesus demands his followers deliberately spend their lives giving themselves over to God, not to evil.

I’ve frequently suggested that we stop examining our conscience before we go to sleep at night, and begin to examine it when we get up in the morning. With the day in front of us, we can more easily figure out at what point we can squeeze in a good action for a friend, do an unrequested favor for someone, or simply be a loving person in a particular situation. It makes more sense to plot and connive good than just to instinctively do good when it comes to mind. Such precise planning could really make us prophetic Christians “dangerous” people in the world.


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



Amos 6:1a, 4-7; I Timothy 6:11-16; Luke 16:19-31

(originally published 2016)

Many of us, as children in a fit of anger, once turned to our parents and yelled, “I hate you!” I trust none of us have lost any sleep over such an encounter. We all realize it’s one thing to say those words at the age of three, and another thing to say them at the age of thirty. The words are the same, but there are implications to saying them as a child that we simply don’t understand until we get older. That’s why most parents also don’t lose any sleep over their child’s angry outburst.

Yet some implications of our actions and words are harder to appreciate than others. The gospel Jesus is notoriously concerned with pointing out some specific implications that some of us never seem to notice no matter how old we are.

He follows in the footsteps of the classic Hebrew prophets, like Amos, the first of the “book prophets.” (Prophets like Elijah and Elisha preceded Amos by a century. But there’s no “book” of Elijah or Elisha.) Active in Israel during the 8th century BCE, Amos points out that even the “good folk” who frequent the national shrine at Bethel don’t give a darn about the collapse of the country around them. Though they’d never admit it, their actions are a sign of their lack of empathy for all but themselves. Complacent in their plush lifestyle, they don’t even notice the disconnect between themselves and the vast number of poor living around them.

Among other things, Amos accuses them of practicing something many of us take for granted today: “eating calves from the stall.” These animals aren’t fattened by grazing in the field, but are fed grain the poor could eat, just so their meat would eventually be a better grade than that produced by grass-fed animals.

We could not have a better gospel pericope today. It dovetails perfectly with our Amos passage. Just as the faithful at Bethel don’t notice the implications of their lifestyle, so Luke’s rich man never seems to notice Lazarus “lying at his door.” He’s consumed with the quality of his clothes and the items on his banquet menus. Stray dogs pay more attention to Lazarus than does the wealthy owner of the house.

Jesus, as a Pharisee who believes in an eternal life after this life, warns their roles will be reversed after death, when it’s too late to do anything to effect the after-life. According to his theology, such a belief can be based not just on his resurrection from the dead, but on a proper reading of the Hebrew Scriptures (Moses and the prophets). He’s convinced the way we live our lives right here and now has eternal implications.

No wonder the unknown author of I Timothy encourages us to “compete well for the faith.” Just as, on a natural level, we continue, with age, to better understand the effects of our words and actions, so our faith takes us beyond the present state of our knowledge and experiences, to surface the deeper implications of what we say and do; to find meaning in people, things, and situations which many around us never seem to notice. Faith really is a life-long “competition” with ourselves. We’re expected to see those people, things and situations with different eyes today than the eyes with which we saw them yesterday.

One of the greatest obstacles to our becoming other Christs is our complacency with the way things are, especially when others are being hurt by the way things are. I worry the risen Jesus might not give me a bye at the pearly gates just because “I didn’t notice.”


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



Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4; II Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14; Luke 17:5-10

(originally published 2016)

According to most scholars of the Christian Scriptures, Luke is the first author to write presuming he and all the members of his community would die natural deaths before Jesus returned in the Parousia. What Jesus’ original disciples believed would be a short interval between his death/resurrection and his Second Coming, now by the mid-80s, second and third generation Christians were discovering it would comprise an entire lifetime. Though prior authors had trained their communities to be sprinters, Luke was in the business of training the members of his church to be long distance runners. There was now an unforeseen element of time present in carrying on the ministry of Jesus. People now were being asked to be other Christs for much longer than the historical Jesus had originally carried on his ministry.

More than six centuries before this particular Capernaum carpenter shuttered his shop and began his itinerant preaching ministry, the prophet Habakkuk also must deal with a divine delay: Yahweh’s rewards and punishments. Habakkuk wants to make certain God knows what’s happening. “How Long, O Yahweh? I cry for help but you do not listen! I cry out to you, ‘Violence!’ but you do not intervene. Why do you let me see ruin; why must I look at misery?” God’s simply not doing what the prophet presumed God would immediately do. Though Yahweh assures him he will not “disappoint,” that’s not very helpful to Habakkuk in the here and now.

Perhaps we have an advantage over Habakkuk and Luke’s community: our belief in evolution. When people of faith thought the world, as they knew it, came into existence just as they knew it, it must have been much more difficult to tolerate the time it took for God to carry out God’s promises. But since the days of Darwin and especially since the theology of Teilhard de Chardin, we’re more accustomed than our ancestors to things happening over a long period of time. This world and we humans didn’t pop up in the blink of an eye.

Teilhard was convinced it was the weakest – not the strongest – link in the evolutionary chain that eventually evolved. When push comes to shove, the strongest doesn’t have the ability to adapt. Like the ultra-strong dinosaurs who couldn’t adapt to a post-meteorite world, it simply ceases to exist. According to Teilhard, what makes us Christians the weakest link in the evolutionary chain is our determination to love those around us. Nothing weakens us more than to love another person. To survive we must adapt and change. In our case, the change and adaptation only happens by loving. Centuries of loving has eventually helped us eliminate slavery, give women the right to vote, and regard all people as our sisters and brothers, no matter their race. The only problem is that it took centuries to pull this off, to evolve to this point. It didn’t happen on Easter Sunday night.

The unknown author of II Timothy would no doubt agree that enduring such a long period of time before change happens is one of “the hardships we bear for the sake of the gospel.” Likewise, when Luke’s Jesus assures us we only need “faith the size of a mustard seed,” to uproot and replant trees, he mercifully doesn’t tell us how long that process will take. We’re simply his servants, people who are trying to implement his 2,000 year old vision for this world, people constantly amazed at the evolving world we’re creating, the “unprofitable servants” who are simply doing what we’re “obliged to do.” It’s just taking a little bit longer to experience the results of our loving than many of us had originally planned.


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 5:14-17; II Timothy 2:8-12; Luke 17:11-19

(originally published 2016)

Today’s II Kings reading is one of Scripture’s most significant passages. It not only shows us how Jewish faith changed through the centuries, it also challenges us to live up to the unchanging ideals of that faith. Three points.

First, this particular sacred author - along with all other biblical authors - insists Yahweh’s actions are never limited to just one group of individuals, even if they’re God’s Chosen People. Naaman is a Gentile, a Syrian army officer, a frequent enemy of the Jews. He only comes to Elisha seeking a cure of his leprosy because his Jewish slave girl told him about the healing powers of this 9th century BCE prophet and encouraged him to make the politically delicate trip. Nine hundred years later, Jesus would get into trouble with some in his Nazareth synagogue audience when he reminded them that Yahweh ignored many Jewish lepers to take care of this non-Jew.

Second, though it flies in the face of our Catholic tradition of clergy receiving stipends and stole fees, the II Kings author is adamant about Elisha’s refusal to accept any sort of gift from Naaman. “As Yahweh lives whom I serve,” the prophet insists, “I will not take it.” The reason is simple and irrefutable: if we’re rewarded for channeling God’s actions, it would appear they’re our actions and not God’s. I don’t remember that law ever being changed in Scripture.

Third, there’s a theology in the Naaman story that we’ve gone beyond: the belief that Yahweh’s a territorial God. He/she is obligated only to take care of people who reside in Canaan. Take one step across the border and you’re in the domain of another god or goddess. That’s why Naaman asks to take “two mule-loads of earth” back with him to Damascus. We presume he’s going to spread that dirt over his property, creating an extra-territorial piece of Canaan, obligating Yahweh to take care of anyone who lives (and worships) on that soil. He says as much: “I will no longer offer holocaust or sacrifice to any other god except to Yahweh.” The sixth century BCE Babylonian Exile would put an end to that restrictive theology. Jews forced to live hundreds of miles from the Promised Land eventually began to experience Yahweh’s presence and power in a country that technically “belonged” to other gods. No longer was Yahweh limited to just one piece of geography.

Luke’s Jesus mirrors some of the Naaman/Elisha story. Though the leprous Samaritan isn’t a Gentile, he’s regarded as being outside “acceptable Judaism.” His heresy excludes him under pain of death from even going into the sacred confines of the Jerusalem temple. Obviously the God whom Jesus channels and has become can work beyond the restrictions with which people limit him/her. Not only that, but the heretic alone returns to thank Jesus for the cure. The other nine orthodox recipients of God’s favor seem to have forgotten their manners.

Perhaps that’s one of the reasons the unknown author of II Timothy zeroes in on our obligation to die with Jesus. He’s convinced that only those who have died with him will live with him. It doesn’t make any difference who we are or where we are, the one essential, never changing aspect of our faith is a willingness to die with Jesus by giving ourselves to others. No future theology will ever contradict that. No matter who we are or where we are, we’re expected to always pull that off. What an insight!

Yet, I suspect you, like me, rarely thank the historical Jesus for sharing that insight with us. We just take it for granted and walk away from the person who died for us.


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



Exodus 17:8-13; II Timothy 3:14-4:2; Luke 18:1-8

(originally published 2016)

We have to be careful how we interpret today’s Exodus reading. One of my Catholic grade school teachers once encouraged us to pray with upraised hands, like Moses, if we wanted to make certain God would hear our prayers and grant our requests.

I’m afraid that teacher never heard of ancient “fertility cults.” The biblical prophets certainly did; they constantly warned their people against employing such religious practices. One of my Scripture profs once defined fertility cults as simple answers to complicated questions, comparing them to modern TV commercials. Having trouble getting a date? Just change your toothpaste! Is your life boring? You’re probably driving the wrong car!

The goal of fertility cults is simple: if you use special words or employ special actions the proper amount to times, you can tie God’s hands behind God’s back. He’s forced to give you whatever you ask, even if he doesn’t want to. God has no choice. It’s akin to holding a piece of kryptonite in front of Superman.

That’s why biblical Jews were forbidden to do anything that even smacked of fertility cults: to plow a field with a donkey and ox yoked together, wear garments made from two different kinds of material, or even boil a kid goat to death in its mother’s milk. The prophets were convinced that no one should engage in any rituals which attempted to control Yahweh’s actions in their lives. The Chosen People were expected to relate to their God, not control God.

Though Scripture scholars can’t agree on the meaning of Moses’ raised hands in our first reading, they’re certain his gestures have nothing to do with controlling Yahweh’s actions during the battle.

Luke’s Jesus enters the fertility cult fray by insisting that those who have a proper relationship with God shouldn’t have to worry about using gimmicks to have their prayers answered. God isn’t a judge who will cave in under pressure. On the contrary, God is always interested in “securing the rights of his/her chosen ones.” The question doesn’t revolve around God’s response to our prayers. It’s about the frame of mind with which we say those prayers. “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Serious students of Scripture couldn’t agree more with the emphasis put on the importance of Scripture in today’s II Timothy pericope. The unknown author is certain “all Scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that one who belongs to God may be competent, equipped for every good work.” Of course, the author is referring only to the Hebrew Scriptures. (The Christian Scriptures wouldn’t be regarded as “inspired” for another 150 years!) And she/he is certainly not thinking about using those writings just as a source of “proof texts.” The sacred writer obviously wants us to imitate the faith of those who composed them. Their faith is the word we should be “proclaiming, whether convenient or inconvenient.”

I’ve discovered after almost 50 years of teaching Scripture that such a proclamation is often “inconvenient” in a church which has traditionally emphasized its own fertility cults. As a child, I used to worry about my non-Catholic cousins’ eternal salvation. They knew nothing about receiving communion on nine straight First Fridays, making novenas to the Blessed Virgin, or the requirements for gaining plenary indulgences.

My mother once received a prayer card from a well-meaning friend. The novena to St. Joseph which it touted came with a warning: “You had better want what you’re praying for to St. Joseph. You’re going to receive it whether you want it or not.”

We Catholics obviously are notorious for cornering the kryptonite market.


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



Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18; II Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14

(originally published 2016)

Last week’s readings zeroed in on the relationship expected of all people of faith with God. A life based on faith demands we relate with God, not try to control him/her. Today’s gospel passage outlines the first step in building and maintaining such a relationship: honesty.

No two people could be further apart on a 1st century CE Palestinian religious scale than a Pharisee and a tax collector. The former was akin to a “super-Jew,” spending his life studying, teaching and keeping the 613 Laws of Moses. Everything he did revolved around those Sinai regulations. Scanning his temple competition, he could logically say, “I’m not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector.”

The latter, on the other hand, really didn’t give much thought to those Mosaic precepts. As a collector of taxes, he centered his life on a different value system. He would have daily done things forbidden to main stream Jews. The money he so faithfully amassed went not to his fellow Jews, but to his country’s enemies: the Romans. A traitor to his people, he helped keep their oppressors in power. And he usually acquired those taxes by “immoral” means: extortion, blackmail and strong arm tactics. He not only was hated by everyone, but because of his profession, he constantly was at odds with the very regulations the Pharisee esteemed. Though tax collectors weren’t forbidden under pain of death, like Samaritans, to enter the temple precincts, his presence in that sacred space would have surprised other worshipers. “What’s someone like that doing in a place like this? There goes the neighborhood!”

Yet Jesus praises this religious scoundrel at the same time he brushes aside the religious perfectionist. Out of the two, the tax collector alone leaves “justified:” doing what Yahweh wants him to do, simply being honest about himself. His only prayer is, “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” Unlike the Pharisee he doesn’t compare himself with anyone else. He just zeros in on his own moral condition.

If all valid relationships revolve around giving ourselves to others, they can only work when we begin the process by being honest about who it is who’s actually doing the giving. Yet we “fake it” so often during our encounters with others, that we also fall into that same trap when we’re really trying to build relationships with significant others. Luke’s Jesus reminds us that faking it with God in a no-no. God simply expects us to tell him/her who we really are. That’s a given.

Sirach, in our first reading, encourages us not to worry: God treats everyone with total impartiality. Yahweh is a God of justice: a God of relationships. He/she gives everyone an even break. If our relationship isn’t working, it can only be because we’re holding back from giving our true selves to God, often because of something embarrassing in that true self.

The unknown author of II Timothy has no problem conveying his insights into Paul’s personality, even when they suggest some of the Apostle’s weaknesses. Though he’s writing about a larger than life figure, he doesn’t hesitate to get down to the nitty gritty. Paul certainly wasn’t the kind of individual who appealed to everyone. “At my first defense no one appeared on my behalf, but everyone deserted me.” Some of us would also pause before stepping forward to defend such a radical person of faith. Paul wasn’t perfect.

Perhaps that’s why he, like us, constantly falls back on his relationship with the risen Jesus: the one person who presumes we’re not perfect, and is grateful whenever we admit it.


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.

2019 Essays
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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