A Hotel not a Home

Seeing how God sends us on a missionary journey

09/24/2025

Luke 9:1-6 Jesus summoned the Twelve and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick. He said to them, “Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there and leave from there. And as for those who do not welcome you, when you leave that town, shake the dust from your feet in testimony against them.” Then they set out and went from village to village proclaiming the good news and curing diseases everywhere.

People often ask me why I got a dog in the first place. I guess they are surprised by my decision, and to be honest, I was rather surprised, too. But I felt something fundamental had changed in my time here as pastor. For the first 26 years as a priest, I had been transferred from one parish to another quite frequently. I never stayed in one parish more than 5 years.

People must have thought I couldn’t hold down a steady job. But in 2022, I realized I had stayed at I.C. for 9 years and I felt the bishop most likely was not going to move me again. I would leave this parish “feet first”, carried out in a casket. Msgr. William Galvin had served as pastor of I.C. for 30 years, from 1966 to 1996. And maybe I will be here 30 years, too, which would be till 2043.

And so in order to see this parish as more a “home” and not as a “hotel” I decided to get a dog, settle down, and raise a family. In other words, the basic posture of a diocesan priest is that of an itinerant preacher who is constantly moving from place to place. And our itinerary is set by the bishop, who sends us to each parish with a mission.

Now, however, perhaps my life has changed from being an itinerant to be an institution, and Apollo symbolized my settling down. But Apollo’s unexpected and sudden passing has reminded me that our whole life is a mission. How so? Well, whether we are here for 30 years like Galvin or only 3 years like Apollo, our true mission mandate is bestowed on us by God.

When he creates us, God sends us on a mission, not just to a particular parish but to this particular planet, to share his goodness, grace, and glory with others. That is, being a “missionary disciple” – as Pope Francis often characterized Christianity – is not only a priestly posture, but the fundamental Christian posture.

Indeed, being a missionary is the overarching posture of all creation. God never intended anyone or anything to be institutions but always itinerants. This world was not meant to be our home but only a hotel. Can you catch the irony in my getting a dog? I got Apollo because I though I was finally settling down. But God sent Apollo to me to remind me, we are not here to settle down.

In the gospel this morning we hear the first of two missionary journeys in Luke. First, in chapter 9, Jesus sends out his 12 apostles to preach, teach, to heal the sick, and to expel demons. Then in chapter 10, Jesus sends out 72 disciples on a similar missionary journey to preach, teach, heal, and drive out demons.

And you know that Pope St. John Paul II, who added the Luminous Mysteries of the rosary, titled the 3rd mystery: “The Proclamation of the Kingdom of God.” In other words, just as Jesus is sent from God the Father to live on earth as a hotel not as a home, so his Church, from top to bottom, from apostle to disciple, from pastor to pet, must maintain a missionary posture.

Sometimes people build their “forever home,” like I want to look at I.C. as my “forever parish.” But that would be a big blunder. Today’s gospel and the 3rd Luminous Mystery remind the Church the same lesson that Apollo taught me: we are not long for this world. God did not send any of us here to settle down, but to preach and teach, to heal the sick, and to expel demons.

I remember when I adopted Apollo from the shelter. The lady asked me with a very serious look on her face: “Are you ready to accept the responsibility of this dog for the next 13-15 years?” And I answered, “Sure, how hard can this be?” Famous last words, “Sure, how hard can this be?” That’s probably what a lot of newly wed couples say, too.

But whether we have our own dogs for 13 years or only 3 years, we eventually have to say goodbye to them as they return their forever home in heaven. Their mission has been accomplished, which was to remind us that we are on a mission, too. That is, we are living in a hotel, not our forever home.

Praised be Jesus Christ!