The Bronx

 I go about San Francisco doing “supply” work.  That is, I help out here and there at various parishes without living there.  I am sort of a now and again presence, forgettable.  I accept this as I am still trying to be of service.  But when I get really excited in a homily, I tend to go into my Bronx accent.  San Francisco people know this accept from movies and tv stuff.  Gangsters, street people, young uneducated types and so on with the stereotypes.  So when they hear the Bronx accept suddenly pop up in a homily, they probably think me dreadful and tell the pastor to not invite me again.  And maybe they don’t listen.  So I might be a complete failure but I am still glad I grew up in the Bronx and went to Fordham College in the Bronx.  God’s primary language may be silence as I have often said.  But God’s second language may be “Bronx.”