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At a Mass we attended a couple weeks ago, the priest opened his homily by asking the congregation to close their eyes and think about one meal they especially enjoyed with friends or family. It doesn’t matter what his point was, because he made the mistake of getting his first answers from children, who deflected him totally.

It started when a boy of about seven raised his hand. The priest walked over. “And what was your favorite meal?” he asked

“Jesus body!” said the boy.

The congregation laughed, and muttering followed.

“Nobody’s getting anything past that kid,” said one.

Yum!” said another.

“That’s, um, a good answer,” said the priest, but not the one I was looking for.”

He turned back to the congregation. “What I want is for you to remember one meal you’ve had with other people that stands out in some positive way.”

A little boy eagerly waved his hand from a pew on the other side. The priest pointed to the boy and walked over. “How old are you?”

“Four!” said the boy.

“What’s your answer?

“Jelly beans!” the boy yelled.

Guy in the congregation, sotto voce: “Beats a communion wafer.”

A back-and forth followed.

“Did Jesus break jelly beans at the last supper?”

“He didn’t serve hard little discs.”

“What’s actually in those?”


“C’mon. It’s unleavened bread.”

“That’s not bread.”

“What is it? Hammered flour?”

The priest went on to make some point involving his own childhood and pizza.

“If Jesus had the last supper today, it would be pizza,” whispered a guy.

“Makes sense. Got its own blood,” said another.

“Come on, shoosh.”

“Not a bad idea. The host could be tiny pizzas.”


So the lesson of the homily was about kids. Including the grown-up ones.

Originally published at on August 19, 2018.

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