It’s nice to see you all again. I had a good trip, but a terrible = time getting home. I spent last we= ek in Mumbai, India, at a meeting of the International Commission on English in t= he Liturgy. This group is respon= sible for a new English translation of the words we say at mass – the Glori= a, the Creed, as well as all the prayers the priest reads out of the big red b= ook the server holds. You say and= hear the same words in every English-speaking Catholic Church on the earth. The new translation will affect all those churches, including ours. The commission is made up of 11 bishops, each representing a different English-= speaking country. They meet twice a ye= ar with the members of their secretariat from Washington DC. My job is to take notes at these meetings so they can concentrate on the translation. Of course, I have a few ideas abou= t how this translation should go myself. They will let me raise questions a= nd offer comments, but when a decision is made, I take notes while they make votes.<= span style=3D'mso-spacerun:yes'> The finished product is still abou= t two years away. But the work is c= oming along.

The flight from Mumbai to Newark takes 15 hours, and I wa= s on board the plane at the gate last Saturday night in first class, next to the= window, no one sitting next to me. De= parture time was 11:40 p.m. The pilot backed the plane away from the gate, and then pulled it in again because on= e of the engines wasn’t responding properly. He tried it again an hour later. Still no luck.= They canceled our flight and had us leave the plane. We went back through immigration to get our passport stamps canceled, retrieve our lugga= ge, and then go to a hotel. I had= been up all night at the airport. = I got to bed at 5:30 Sunday morning, and four hours later the alarm clock in my h= otel room went off; the previous occupant had set it, and I never thought to loo= k.

It’s a long story, but it involves an additional fl= ight to New Delhi, where I spilled a glass of red wine all over my pants before getting on board a 15-hour flight, now in coach, not first class, and an unaccompanied 10-year old child in the seat behind me threw up. Let’s just say, I’m gl= ad to be home.

My patron saint, Paul, didn’t have it easy on his t= ravels either. When he got home from= Corinth, he learned that the community was rife with division. We hear about this in today’s second reading. People were t= aking sides: “I belong to Paul. I belong to Apollos. I belong to C= ephas.” Paul is like, “I belong to Christ.” He calls the Corinthians “brothers and sisters,” and he scolds them; he begs “that all of you agree in what you say, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mi= nd and in the same purpose.” It reminds me of the two words my mother used to say decades ago when we kids asked her, “What would you like for Christmas?” “Good children,” she s= aid.

Paul never shied away from a good argument, so I’m = sure he was not simply trying to make the conflict go away. Rather, he believed if you are of = one mind and one purpose you will find Christ.= The conflicts that tend to consume our thoughts can usually be toler= ated if this much is true: if all of us, no matter wh= at we think about other stuff, belong to Christ.