“May your Sunday be
blessed with moments
of serenity, laughter,
and profound gratitude.”

It’s Sunday,… the first Sunday in May 2025. As I reflect back on the past week, I am filled with gratitude for the countless blessings I experienced. On Tuesday, I visited Hakone Gardens in Saratoga for the first time. On Wednesday evening, I met some wonderful people at a new senior living facility in Santa Clara. On Friday, I enjoyed another delightful lunch with my good friend, Brian, at the Los Gatos Café. 

Kathy, Brendan, and I met up with Steve and his family for dinner on Friday evening, then with Tom and his family, along with my sister Cathy, for lunch yesterday afternoon after my grandson Liam’s baseball game. It was a simple, yet amazing week. Today is a day for rest. 

The Genesis account of creation tells us that after creating the world, God rested on the seventh day. Whatever one believes about the historical accuracy of the Scriptures, it’s difficult to deny that they contain valuable pearls of wisdom for all of us. Resting on the seventh day is one of those gems.

For many years, attending Mass on Sunday was a given. I never gave it a thought. That’s what we did on Sundays. Through the years, while my faith in God has grown exponentially, my confidence in the integrity of the Catholic Church as an institution has waned significantly. At this point in my life, I have embraced countless alternative ways of “making holy the Sabbath Day.”

On many Sunday mornings, Kathy and I go to the downtown Campbell farmers market. Kathy does the shopping, while I sit with a cup of tea or hot chocolate enjoying the tunes of local musicians. The farmers market provides ample opportunities for us to meet people, to engage in pleasant conversation, and to spread kindness and positivity to those we meet.  

Sundays are often a good time to get together with family or friends for lunch or dinner. Last Sunday, Kathy and I attended the Japantown Cherry Blossom Festival in San José. Sundays also provide opportunities for walking, reading, writing, and even napping. It is reassuring to know that resting on the seventh day of the week is not only beneficial for my physical and mental health, it is also consistent with my faith.

While I have often said that I have no regrets about my teaching career, I haven’t been completely truthful with others — or with myself. I do have some regrets. One, in particular, is the number of Sunday afternoons I spent in my classroom preparing for the upcoming week. I had an insatiable desire to be over-prepared for the classes I taught. I wanted to have all papers graded and ready to return to students on Monday. I wanted to be sure I had all the photocopies of handouts I would need for the week. I didn’t want to risk arriving at school on Monday morning and finding that the copier was down and I didn’t have what I needed for my classes. Yes, I spent countless Sunday afternoon hours in Room 3 at St. Lawrence Academy. I wish I had spent that time with my family. 

Sundays are sacred. By this I mean that Sundays should be regarded with reverence and secured against infringement. Sundays are a time to rest, a time to spend with family, a time to nourish our body and soul in preparation for the demands and challenges of the upcoming week. And, of course, Sundays are a time for gratitude — a time to reflect back on the previous week with gratefulness for the many blessings we experienced. 

This morning, I wish you all a day filled with serenity, laughter, and profound gratitude.