One of my frequent laments is what I call bubble-gum homilies (or pabulum from the pulpit). They may appear to give you something to chew on but there's no nourishment and all that chewing is for naught. I thought of that today while I was reading an article in The Wanderer by Deacon James H. Toner on Rocky Homilies. Here's a bit:As critical as it is to be kind...compassion must not be purchased at the price of truth -- any more than, say, "pastoral sensitivity" ought to be practiced regardless of the jeopardy it might pose to what is morally right. There are times when honeyed homilies are as spiritually perilous as the fire-and-brimstone sermons of yesteryear, reminiscent of the psalm's warning: "their throats are yawning graves; they make their tongues so smooth!" (5:9 Jerusalem Bible; cf. Romans 3:13)....
