He liked to tease me a bit. He told me he was a lot younger than he actually was. He said he liked my smile and always, always offered me a sideways hug. I liked his impish grin and the way he would sometimes run his long thin hand over his shiny bald head when pondering a question. I secretly laughed at his quirkiness and openly hated his smoking. What I liked the most about him was his homilies.
He was the best homilist I had ever heard. He had a way of connecting theology with the mundane, eternity to the daily, changing what we needed to hear into what we needed to understand. He made connections with what seemed to be unrelated elements in such a way that I was often astounded.
I found that many of the seeds that had been planted in my mind took root and began to sprout after his Masses. Some of what he said was not always in agreement, but the gift of controversy is the process of thought...he made me want to think, to discern and draw closer to God. And isn't that the purposes of a homily?
I will miss him and his words.
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