Years and years ago, there were several priests in our parish who, for a variety of reasons, made an impression on me. Their words echo in my mind to this day. One of the priests was Fr. Dunnigan, an Irishman who, from my youthful perspective, could have been as old as Methuselah. He had an impossibly heavy Irish brogue, which, to my ear, sounded mostly like mumbling.
Fr. Dunnigan seemed to deliver the same message during his Homily every time he said Mass. “You don’t know the hour or the day,” he said, or some variation on that theme. Now, I have no idea if in my tired and cranky state – induced by compulsory Sunday church – I heard him correctly. And I don’t know if, 35 years later, I’m remembering it correctly. It doesn’t really matter. The message is still valid. [Read more…]