Robby, you’re never going to be happy until you’re giving.” Monsignor McDonald spoke those words to me while I was visiting with him in his office at Saint Matthew’s in Dix Hills. As you know, he had been my pastor while I was growing up in the Moriches. I came to love him during those years, so I would always visit him wherever he was assigned. He was the priest who kept me rooted in the Church well before I knew much about the history and splendor of our Catholic Faith.

I’m not sure if other priests have done this here, but I built a fire in the fireplace this week. My sister’s always got a fire going in her house when I visit. A few weeks back I resolved to make one myself. So I called a chimney sweep to give me the all-clear, then asked Tony Biancardi for some firewood to kicks things off — and what a lovely thing. I poured myself a drink, sat back with a book, and enjoyed one of life’s most ancient pleasures.

As Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw Peter and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea, then said to them, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” It’s one of my favorite passages, and it happens to be one that inspired me to use the title petersboat for this column and other things. Here’s another passage:

The death of Tony Zummo this past week moves me to write about the demographics of the Church. Those of you who don’t recognize Tony’s name would still likely recognize his face. He was the embodiment of those parishioners that are sometimes described as “the previous” generation (an unfair title, given their presence in the parish, but one that nevertheless brings a smile even to their own faces when one of their own is called a “Mayfair Catholic”). But while there are unique characteristics about the generations filling our pews these days, it is still, I believe, commonality that holds us together.

As I was preparing for this week’s Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, and the treasure God offered to us in our own Baptism, I found myself thinking more about those gifts the Magi brought to Jesus last week, which signified their recognition of Christ, but also, perhaps, something even more to you and me. I think those gifts spoke a word about how we should approach Jesus in prayer.

This meditation in verse is a play on my Christmas homily. You might recall I proposed that God allows the Jews, as a people, to exist in every generation in order to be a lasting sign to the world of how humanity remains, even after being mingled with Christ’s divinity.

I recently watched a presentation from a child psychologist about the results of an experiment she performed on children who were just 6 months old. The infants were shown a skit using three shapes: a circle, a square, and a triangle.

The emotional mourning that often accompanies the discovery of our parents' inability to fulfill us, easily masked by the excuse to rebel, is made all the more painful these days by a cultural storm clamoring for our attention at every turn. Growing in the Faith is treacherous.