The "Post" - Flushing the Bowl

February 9, 2026 

Welcome, God and All...

Were you hoping I would not reflect on one of the biggest events in this (or any) year? Well, guess again.

Yesterday, the Seattle Seahawks and the New England Patriots played the National Football League's championship match in San Francisco. (Note that the city's name is from the Spanish language and in English would translate to "Saint Francis." But we don't do things like that. Here in the USA, when one refers to "San Francisco" it is assumed it's about the city by the bay, on the Pacific coast of the USA, famous for cable cars and the Golden Gate bridge.)

The game was pretty lackluster as compared to previous years. Five field goals were the only scores in the first three quarters of the contest. Finally, both teams woke up, but not soon enough for the Patriots, who were defeated by a score of 29-13.

This event is also a haven for advertisers who attempt to entertain while they also attempt to sell their goods and services. It's very expensive to advertise here. A 30-second spot costs millions and millions of dollars, and that's just to get it on the air; on top of that are production costs which are also high. Because of these costs, the actual return on this investment is usually low or even negative. There were a few worth watching. My top two were an ad for a hydration beverage featuring toilets singing Phil Collins' Against All Odds; and a spot featuring NFL tight ends basking in their hammocks underneath Enya's Only Time. What were they selling? Awareness of male prostate cancer which can be detected by a simple blood test. Been there, done that. Welcome to the club. Had to laugh only because it was such a surprise.

And there's one more thing. You are probably wondering when I would get around to this.

The half-time entertainment.

In high school and in most college football games this generally consisted of the school's marching band playing pop tunes in the style of John Philip Sousa while making Etch-A-Sketch style formations out on the field. The comedian Robert Klein once described this as playing Burt Bacharach's Goin' Out Of My Head while forming this big head on the field and then going out of it.

During the regular NFL season and the early playoff rounds, our entertainment consists of replays and analysis of the game we're watching as well as others being played concurrently. Nobody knows or perhaps cares what is going on at the stadium during half-time. Many people are using the restrooms or buying another round of food or drink or souvenirs. But not at the Super Bowl. This world class clash of titans demands world class entertainment. Fifteen minutes of it, to be precise. Ticketholders are paying exorbitant prices to see all of this up close. 

The biggest names in entertainment have lined up to have a possibility of performing at the Super Bowl because it commands a big audience and is a one-time, winner-takes-all event; contrasted to other professional sports which have a best of five or seven series. 

My point? I'm getting there.

Some folks watch the Super Bowl who are not aficionados of the sport, simply for that fifteen-minute concert at half-time. So every fall, when the league announces the headlining act, it's an event in itself. People start making plans based on who's performing. 

Now remember, dear readers, that musical entertainment, much like its use in the Church's liturgies, is highly subjective. Meaning that there will be those who won't like the scheduled performance, regardless of who he/she/it is. Also remember that professional sports is a business that, like every other business, will put before us anything that will bring the most attention to their product or service or event. The NFL, seeking to expand its footprint globally, chose as its headliner a Puerto Rican who performs under the name Bad Bunny. He is a very popular Latino musician, but for several reasons has not until now performed in the United States. He does not perform in the English language, but that does not seem to be an issue to his fan base.

Shifting gears for a moment, most entertainers and mainstream media has expressed - purportedly on our behalf - that the policies of the current president and his administration are extreme and dangerous; some even claim that these policies threaten the USA's 250-year-old democracy. At the very least, it was claimed that Bad Bunny (I'm resisting the urge to call him Mr. Bunny) would impart harmful influence on our children. Some have recognized - perhaps correctly - that the underlying issue is the lack of the teaching of the Bible and so-called Christian values. Some have claimed - incorrectly - that he is not an American citizen and should not be allowed to perform at the Super Bowl. That flies in the face of past performers such as the Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney, who were just as popular in their day but performed in English and are indeed foreigners.

To counterprogram, the conservative group Turning Point USA (founded by the late Charlie Kirk) staged "The All-American Halftime Show" which would air simultaneously. This dragged our national political drama and debate into what is supposed to be a family-friendly fifteen minutes of high-quality entertainment. And both sides debated loudly in social media. Bad Bunny was known to be unconventional in his performances. The All-American Halftime Show would feature...well, hopefully songs of Christian values. Songs about trucks and unfaithful relationships, but in English.

On and on it went. It bothered me quite a bit. The Super Bowl halftime shows have not been without controversy. A couple of years I decided to be busy elsewhere as described several paragraphs back. But I have changed, as I described in an earlier post. God has blessed me with a renewal of spirit that I felt would be tested regardless of which show I chose to watch.

Then I received a flash of inspiration.

Ever since I was a candidate for the permanent diaconate some thirty-five years ago, I have been required to pray Morning and Evening Prayer from the Divine Office. In the last year or so I have become better in keeping that commitment with the help of podcasts to which I pray along. The length of these podcasts is about 15 - 20 minutes, the same amount of time as the halftime show. It offered me an even better alternative to questionable content on either side. I went to my room and prayed. Didn't miss one moment of the second half of the game. It was the perfect ticket. I won't apologize for it and would do it again (and probably will). It provided the opportunity to walk away from the hype, the noise, the proselytizing and the so-called "dangerous" and "evil" lifestyle being shoved at me on my TV screen.

After that and noticing the game was still plodding along in the third quarter, I started scrolling through comments on the aforementioned performances. As I guessed, you loved one and hated the other. But there were pictures of Bad Bunny's performance, and he wasn't wearing a dress as he was known to do. Meanwhile, on the other end Kid Rock was performing in a (hopefully) fake fur jacket and shorts. (The kind of thing one might wear to make a late-night run to Walmart.) But the game was actually getting interesting, and I knew the programs would be available to watch on YouTube so I put it aside to watch in the morning.

I started with Bad Bunny's performance. Having read the commentaries the night before I had an idea of the story line behind it. It was a more-or-less legitimate 14-minute performance. My only critique is that either Apple Music or the NFL or NBC should have captioned his lyrics in English so that those not understanding Spanish would know what he was saying.

Then I searched for The All-American Halftime Show. It didn't take long to find, but I decided not to watch it as the podcasts timed at anywhere between 35 and 80 minutes. I was expecting fifteen minutes to cover the same time period, and the show was two to five times longer, and I can certainly guess what happened. A bunch of proselytizing to the potentially unchurched. I can get that in many other and better places, having been to Mass that morning and understanding that God intended the remainder of the Sabbath to rest from unnecessary labor as He did when the universe was created. Wouldn't fifteen minutes have been enough to get the Christian message across without politicizing it? A scene from The Chosen does infinitely better in that amount of time.

There are a lot of things at issue in the United States. I don't think anybody will argue that. But injustice has been present from the beginning of the great European migration in the early 1600s. They were escaping religious persecution in their homelands and brought all those prejudices with them. Indeed, there are signs that they've never been overcome. Case in point: One of the tipping points that led to the Revolutionary War for independence was the British Parliament's tax levies on the colonists. In Massachusetts and Virginia arose the rallying cry "no taxation without representation." And there are those who insist that Bad Bunny is a foreigner. He is from Puerto Rico, a territory of the United States of America. Our laws state that Puerto Ricans are citizens of our country, just as the colonists were considered and considered themselves to be British citizens, at least until we got into this taxation issue. Puerto Ricans are considered citizens of the United States. They are not permitted to vote in national elections. They have no real representation in Congress. Yet they go through the same hassle with income taxes that we go through this time each year.

Bad Bunny also gave us an important geography lesson. Last time I checked my atlas, there were two distinct "Americas" - the continents of North and South America. And the citizens of these continents and their nearby islands, from Argentina and Chile to Canada and Greenland can all be considered Americans. Our Lady of Guadeloupe is the patroness of the American continents. And America is named for an Italian mapmaker, Amerigo Vespucci, who was charting the Western Hemisphere and didn't know what else to call this newly discovered land, so he named the continents after himself. And those islands in the Caribbean are called the West "Indies" because initially Christopher Columbus (another Italian) thought he had reached the Indian frontier of the Eastern Hemisphere, filled with exotic spices and silk that weren't found in Europe. This is long before President Donald J. Trump was even close to being a blot on the landscape.

We appear to have a great deal of baggage to unload - or at least have a place to store it. Maybe Fort Knox is available. I hear they may reopen Alcatraz.

Until we meet again, may God be with you...and may God have mercy on us all...

+the Phoenix

The "Post" Revisited: All the News That Is Fit

 (Originally posted January 27, 2018. Edited for context.)

Welcome. God and All...

In September 2017, Pope Francis announced that he would tackle the issue of so –called “fake news” in his message for the annual World Communications Day. It’s interesting that the announcement came on the feast of the Archangels; for they, and most notably Gabriel, act as God’s message bearers to the world. The theme of the message will be: “The truth will set you free” (John 8:32).

The following January the pope issued his message for the year’s observance, which is held throughout the Catholic Church on the Seventh Sunday of Easter, May 17 in 2026. Because most dioceses in the United States observe this Sunday for the Ascension of the Lord, reflecting on how we spread the news may likely take a back seat to the themes of the Ascension. With the presence of the news media what it is these days, and at a thematic lull while waiting for Lent to begin, it’s a good time to reflect on Francis’ message and perhaps use it as a springboard for the upcoming season of spiritual renewal.

It should be clear to us that it is relatively easy to distort our ability to communicate. From the very beginnings of biblical history, we read of deception and instances of ‘bending’ the truth. We should not take this lightly. The sense that we have been deceived by others by not speaking the “whole truth and nothing but the truth” has fueled prejudices and boils over into hatred and forms of violence that erupt from it.

Let’s go back to our own Square One. Are we honest, truly honest, with ourselves? Pope Francis called us to a “profound and careful process of discernment” – which we can apply to our own self-image and esteem. That’s an important first step we must take before we can with certainty identify the subtlety employed in arguments or details that, while alluring and even making sense are actually false.

It should be the mission of every person to take responsibility for protecting the honesty and integrity of what we say about what we do. Those who provide information to us have an even greater responsibility to report fairly, resisting the urge to speculate on potential outcomes or to pass judgment on others. 

Pope Francis reminded us to turn to the “only truly reliable and trustworthy One” in our discernment process. He reminds us of the words of his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, that God “make us instruments” of his peace; to practice listening where there is shouting; to bring clarity where there is ambiguity; and ultimately, to bring truth where there is falsehood.

For the next nine months much of our media coverage will cast an eye toward the midterm elections. There is much we can do right now to approach our search for information and process it. If we are to make honest decisions that affect our future, we must first be honest and truthful with ourselves and seek forgiveness and reconciliation with God in revealing who we really are from behind the masks we use.

(And it likely won't be easy.)

Until we meet again, may God be with you - and may God have mercy on us all...

+the Phoenix

The Post - An Open Letter (Before I Shake the Dust from My Feet)

 Welcome, God and All...

After my most recent post, I have been struggling to establish a resolution that might ease my conscience. Relationships with those I mentioned rate from strained to non-existent. In trying to hold a middle ground, did I fail to address the immediacy of the situation during the years it mattered most?

An attempt to reach out via a recent phone call resulted in being sent to voicemail (expected), but the call has not been returned (sad but also expected). I thought maybe I should send a letter directly. The difficult part of that is tracking down addresses of my four godchildren. Then there's the real likelihood of my letter being ignored, rejected, or possibly igniting an agitated conversation I no longer wish to hear.

Therapists often say in situations like this that one can make peace with themselves by writing a letter that is never mailed or putting the same in a blog such as this one. The intended recipients would only see it if they happened across a link to my blog, which is unlikely; or if I link the post to my social media account. Since none of them are in my list of friends, and as what I post there is only seen by those who follow me (they pretty much stopped that twelve years ago), it will only be seen by the God who sees everything, He who is Lord of my life.

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Dear Godchildren,

A long time ago (in a world that now seems very far away), you received the breath of life and came into this world. Not long after, your parents, wishing to have you christened because that's the way things are supposed to be, asked your Aunt Diane and I to serve as godparents at your Catholic baptism.

About the same time, I was going through discernment as to becoming an ordained minister in the Catholic Church. I was, therefore, keenly aware of what was required of those who would be godparents. On paper, we checked off all the necessary boxes. We were honored to witness and have a front-row seat the day you were claimed as a child of God.

But there of course was a "fly in the ointment." Actually, more than one. Perhaps the largest was that Aunt Diane's parents - half of your grandparents - rarely took an active part in practicing the Catholic faith by example, that being attending Mass weekly and engaging in prayer with the family at home. When referring to spiritual matters, Grandpa referred to Jesus as "Ralph". Grandma was non-committal; following the tradition of doing most of whatever her husband asked or needed. They, like many other parents of that generation, struggled to raise them as children. Sometimes, life got in the way. Stresses were often released in ways we should know by now aren't good for anyone. It was, in a child's eyes, often seen as just the way things were.

Because of this, there was no foundation or ground rules followed. Their children - your mom and aunts - went their own way. And due to the stresses in the home, they went in a different but similar direction spiritually. This was how your parents' generation dealt with such things. This was how we as teenagers found our way to adulthood. Idyllically, we espoused harmony and understanding, peace and love abounding. John Lennon sang of imagin(ing) there was no heaven, and millions followed, like lemmings into the abyss. Some didn't, but fell back in an even older mentality, the one they experienced. Failure to obey and respect was a one-way ticket to eternal damnation. Were we so naive as to see God as rejecting you because you didn't dot your 'i's and cross every 't'? (Doesn't this have some of the look and feel of today's news cycle?)

Anyway, Aunt Diane and I were proud to be your godparents. When you had questions about spiritual matters, we did our best to answer them sensitively. "My way or the highway" was not the way to win young disciples. The things you were exposed to...that was not the way, either.

As kids, you saw us as "Auntie Fun" and "Uncle Jolly". To me, it was probably an honor undeserved, but who am I to turn that down? I was unconventional. I frequently crossed the lines between maturity and freedom of expression, so why would you take me seriously?

And as you grew into adulthood, you could no longer be shielded from the ugliness of a broken world. Your grandparents died, shaky marriages broke up or simply went their own way and ignored each other on those hot-button issues.

Then the bottom fell out. Aunt Diane, dealing with a family history of health issues, had a series of strokes and died on May 1, 2014. It changed everything.

Aunt Diane had a huge and growing lack of trust in the medical profession. First, over her ability to have children. Once Nick was born, trying to figure out what happened that caused his developmental disability, and then trying to cope with it. Living on one income so she could attempt to do everything she could for him. Keeping him out of the spotlight of constant testing, poking, prodding, and pigeon-holing in the hopes that he could have an independent life filled with love.

I know I have been accused of unwittingly causing Diane's death. It was the most difficult decision of my life, and it wasn't made out of a cheap convenience. I paid dearly for that decision. I am still paying for it. I did not go back to work - I couldn't, beyond continuing to serve my Church, which had been of great help to me and Nick. By the way, they ask more about how he's doing than do any of you. I stopped asking myself why long ago. I tried to keep up with you, showing interest in what you were up to. And for that, I was told without fanfare that I was getting too involved.

However, I haven't stopped doing one thing godparents are supposed to do. One thing that many Catholic and Christian parents do. Pray that somehow, some day, you will find your way to the Church in which you were claimed as a child of God. Sadly, I fear it's going to take something greater than the death of someone you genuinely loved to get you there. Something catastrophic. Something that may only affect you and people closest to you; or the Armageddon (look it up) of our generation that will have devastating effects on most if not all of us.

Oh...and you should know that at age 71, as a type 2 diabetic with stage 3a kidney disease and prostate cancer, and continuing to be father and friend to my nearly 34-year-old Nick, I may still seem unconventional...but I think I've finally grown up. Funny how that works. Anyway, I continue to pray for you, and a host of other things every day. God is here among you. I hope you will come to understand this sooner than later, if you haven't already. 

I hope I don't outlive any of you, but should that be God's will, I will pay my respects one way or another, based on my own ability. I would hope you would do that much for Nick should the time come, but we should not make any promises we might not be able to keep.

With that, I am closing the door on this part of my life. Closing, but not locking. If you ever have some serious questions you want to ask me, you will know then how to find me. May you find true peace in the middle of your life's journey.

Respectfully, and with love,

Uncle Bob

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Until we meet again, may God be with you...and may he have mercy on us all...

+the Phoenix

The "Post" - A 'Godfather' Saga

Welcome, God and All...

Let's state the obvious. I am a sinner, trying to be a saint.

In the many lines throughout this chronicle, I have reminded myself and readers that I'm not perfect, even as I try to point out the flaws in thoughts and actions other than my own.

I have written out reflections of the self before, and they cover serious struggles I have faced, have dealt with, and still working on. I was reminded today about a mission in my life that I realize I have not managed well.

I am godfather to five people in my extended family; one (the oldest) is my youngest first cousin. The other four are a nephew and three nieces from my late wife's sisters' children. I somehow doubt the latter four even remember this - or want to. But I come to realize that it's not entirely their fault, nor the fault of their parents. This requires a bit of backtracking and some explanation.

In the modern age, especially outside Catholicism, the role of godparents is largely honorary. They act as witnesses of the event of a child's reception of baptism. If nothing else, they're supposed to help set a good spiritual example for their godchild or godchildren. As late as a century or so ago, godparents were able to legally assume custody of their godchild(ren) in the event the parents died untimely. Rarely that could lead to legal custody battles, but other than the occasional TV court show case, I have not experienced this sort of thing.

Within the Catholic Church, there is more to this. You can't choose just anyone, as one of the roles of the godparent(s) is to sponsor them for admittance in the Church. It's more than just witnessing. The godparents as well as the parents take vows promising to raise the children in the Catholic faith. The parents make the baptismal vows as a proxy for their children.

Thus, there are requirements that godparents must meet to assume this role - it's more than an honorary witness.

Godparents for children to be baptized and received into the Catholic Church must be Catholic themselves, having received both the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation. They must practice their faith consistently, generally by weekly attendance at Mass. And the two godparents must be of opposite gender, one male and one female. I understand that these prerequisites are in themselves quite difficult. And there's one more - the parents must and godparents are strongly urged to attend a sacramental preparation class, to better understand the implications of their respective roles. For a number of years, I facilitated this process, and I have officiated at a good number of baptisms during my five years of active diaconal ministry. Those years, however, generally ran after I had five times become a godfather.

The adult life of my five godchildren are not textbook examples of a practicing Catholic. I was made godfather of my cousin while I was in my early twenties. My uncle and aunt were better at practicing Catholicism than most people I know; this was the youngest of their seven children. The dark spot came when she decided to marry outside the faith. And I mean really outside, marrying a not-so-practicing Buddhist. She still attends Mass, but by herself, and my guess is that her siblings are so much better at practicing Catholicism that some of it rubbed off and just refused to let go.

Of the other four godchildren, two were baptized locally. Their father was an ultra-conservative Catholic who remembered his catechesis enough to carry on about how the kids were headed to Hell if they didn't attend Mass...but he didn't always attend himself, and his wife - my sister-in-law - carried the tradition set by her parents, who rarely saw the inside of a church, and the frequency got much longer as they got older.

The other two godchildren, belonging to another sister-in-law and her first husband were working as roadies for an entertainment company that provided carnival booths, games, and rides for various groups, both civic and church groups. They were working one such carnival for a Catholic parish not far away when my wife and I got a phone call asking if we would serve as godparents for the two children, a year apart in age and the youngest at least six months old. They had talked to the pastor of the church which was holding the carnival and arranged to have the children baptized. And it was done. But again, neither parent was that intent on being, as the Church states in her catechism, "first and primary" educators in teaching the faith to their children.

I have had a few occasions in which I made an effort to hold a conversation with some of my nieces, some of them goddaughters and some not. Most of those might well have been a waste of time, as the girls were in those formative teenage years when the education system leaves them the impression that they know more than their parents or elders about serious life issues. I warned there are always consequences in any decision, especially those with poor choices. But in the end, it went back to the simple fact that there was really no foundation in faith in the home.

Last summer I was seriously upbraided by the oldest of the four. I chronicled this in a previous blog post. I was publicly reflecting on the necessity of our prayers and our own changed ways of life to help push troubled souls toward God in Heaven. It obviously struck a nerve. I thought I acted with compassion in a very sensitive situation, and several people said as much. This, however, disturbed me. A recent homily on baptism and the difficulty of finding qualified godparents just brought all of this back, reminding me that even as I strive for holiness and urge many to seek the Truth in prayer and reflection, that I have made my own wrong turns along the way.

I pray frequently for all my extended family, that God will find the way to bring them into the fold of the sheep of the Good Shepherd. I realize, though, that what triggers finding the way may be catastrophic to them, and in a lesser way, to me. And I know that most saints, canonized or not, started out the same way. I have written before about the superabundance of God's mercy and I stand by it. But I realize that this is another incomprehensible mystery and must fear and respect it with all I can possibly give.

Until we meet again, may God be with you; and may God have mercy on us all...

+the Phoenix