Ascension of the Lord

Readings: Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47:23-.6-9; Ephesians 1:17-23; Matthew 28:16-20

Today we are celebrating Ascension Thursday. For those who do not know, Catholics throughout most of the world, including many Catholics in the United States, observed the Lord’s Ascension last Thursday. Ascension is celebrated on Thursday of the Sixth Week of Easter because that is forty days after Easter Sunday.

Pentecost follows ten days later, fifty days after Easter. Like Easter, Pentecost, which is the Church’s second most important liturgical celebration, is always on Sunday. The word “Pentecost” means fiftieth. Maybe if we called Ascension Tessarakost, we would not be able to move it- tessarkost is “fortieth” in Greek.

Forty days is important because in Saint Luke’s account of the Lord’s Ascension found at the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles, which should be considered as something like the fifth Gospel, a period of forty days is mentioned:

He presented himself alive to them by many proofs after he had suffered, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God¹

The Risen Lord speaking to His closest disciples about the kingdom of God during this forty-day period is often referred to as “the Gospel of the forty days.” So, moving this solemnity throws our liturgical math off a little.

According to the Church, divine revelation is communicated to us via two interrelated but distinct modes: scripture and tradition. The Gospel of the forty days is about what is handed on through the Church’s tradition.

Despite the Lord speaking to them about the kingdom of God, it’s clear from our first reading that His closest disciples still did not understand what He taught them. This is why they ask, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”²

Their failure to grasp what they were taught led the disciples to ask that question. Short answer: No! Longer answer: No, not even maybe. God’s kingdom, which, in and through Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit, is already present in the world, even if only in the form of a mustard seed, is not identifiable with any earthly kingdom, nation, or domain. This is fundamental Christian teaching!

Sadly, many Christians today are similarly confused. Speaking their confusion, the Lord refers them to Pentecost, when, just a few days hence, they “will be baptized with the holy Spirit.”³ It is then that they will begin to understand better.

This is why Blessed Pope Pius XII, in 1954, promulgated an entire encyclical letter on the Church’s supranationality. Being Catholic, as the word “Catholic” implies, means having an allegiance that transcends any ethnic or national identity.⁴ As the Church father, Justin Martyr insisted, because of our faith, Christians make the best citizens.⁵

Pentecost is the undoing of Babel and the beginning of the Church, which includes women and men of every race, tongue, people, and nation. Look around you, even here in our parish, you'll see the Church's catholicity.

Christ ascended so that He could send the Holy Spirit. By means of the Holy Spirit, the Lord can be closer to you than if He had remained bodily. The Holy Spirit is the mode of Christ’s resurrection presence among, in, and through us. It is the Holy Spirit who transforms the bread and wine into Christ’s body and blood.

It is the Holy Spirit who makes Christ present in and through all the sacraments. Along with the Eucharist, baptism anchors the sacramental economy of grace. It is holy baptism that allows you to receive Christ in Holy Communion.

Baptism impels us (or at least it should) to share the Gospel. In today's Gospel, the Lord gives His Church our mission. But that mission is not merely to baptize people. We are to make them disciples. Disciple-making, something with which the Church really struggles. It is a core ministry to engage in formation for transformation into Chritslikeness.

It’s been great to read so many news stories about record numbers of baptisms this Easter. This can easily become just a numbers game. In the end, numbers don’t matter. The Church’s retention rate for adults who join through OCIA isn’t very good. Much the same can be said for the young people who pass through sacramental preparation programs.

These are just some of the indications that we need to focus on making disciples, on becoming disciples, people who want to be like Christ. Part of becoming a disciple is to take up the Great Commission, given in today’s Gospel. It is the mission of the Church until the end of the age. Hence, being a disciple is to be a missionary disciple.

As the Lord’s disciples learned from the angel as they stood there looking up as Jesus ascended, being Christian isn’t about standing around staring at the sky and passively waiting for Christ’s return in a strikingly similar way to His ascending. Christian disciples, as Saint Paul insists, play to win.⁶ We don’t play merely not to lose.

Christ’s disciples are to make God’s kingdom a present reality and not view it as a dream deferred, as pie in the sky in the by and by. We need to level our gaze and bring good news to a world in such dire need of it. At the end of this Mass and every Mass, let us go in peace glorifying the Lord by our lives.

---

1 Acts 1:3.^↩
2 Acts 1:6.^↩
3 Acts 1:5.^↩
4 Pope Pius XII. Encyclical Letter Ad Sinarum Gentem [On the Supranationality of the Church]. 7 October 1954.^↩
5 Justin Martyr. First Apology, Chapter 4.^↩
6 1 Corinthians 9:24.^↩

Of synods and synodaling

The Church being "synodal" or becoming "synodal" or seeking to be more "synodal" is something you hear all the time these days. As most of us know by now, in essence, being "synodal" means "walking with" one another. So, as Church, as God's pilgrim people, we walk together. What seems to sometimes be lost is that our walking together as pilgrims indicates we have a destination, a place we're heading towards. Even if they veer off the path, pilgrims are distinct from wanderers. As Christians, we know "the Way."

It's also easy to overlook and underappreciate all the various synodal instruments the Church already has. These have largely emerged since the Second Vatican Council: parish and diocesan finance councils, pastoral councils, presbyteral and diaconal councils, bishops conferences, liturgical committees, diocesan review boards, vocations committees, admissions and scrutiny committees, etc. Yet, during this era, we rarely see these instruments of synodality named.

Being completely overlooked means that there is no mention, insistence, or even suggestion that these existing means of synodality be strengthened. Each of the above instruments are means of co-responsibility. Synodality as presently constituted runs the risk of the making the Church more, not less, self-referential.

Despite Pope Francis explicitly and publicly indicating otherwise, synodality to a lot people has come to be synonymous with something akin to a Church parliament. All this is a lead up to the increasing controversy surrounding the synodal report of Study Group 9. Study Group 9 is rather inelegantly named "Theological Criteria and Synodal Methodologies for Shared Discernment of Emerging Doctrinal, Pastoral, and Ethical Issues." This report alone could very well (if it hasn't already) undermine the credibility and integrity of the synod and synodality. I will get to why in a moment.

Specifically, Annex A of Study Group 9's report contains testimonies from two male Catholics who are homosexual. One of these testimonies contains a harsh criticism of Courage International. Of particular concern in his critique is the accusation that Courage engages in "reparative therapy," sometimes called "conversion therapy." The further claim is made that Courage's approach "separates faith and sexuality."

Courage is an approved Catholic apostolate. So grave were the criticisms that Courage has publicly responded. In their response, they insist that the testimony that appears in an Annex to the report engages in both "calumy and detraction." One might ask, is mandatory priestly and religious celibacy an exercise in separating faith and sexuality?

Now I come to the matter that may really undermine the credibility of the whole synodal process. When it comes to machinations like this, it doesn't matter what the issue is or what study group it emerged from. Diana Montagna writes about what happened on her Substack: "Fr. James Martin: The 'Mastermind' Behind the Two Testimonies in the Vatican’s Synod Report on Homosexuality."

Montagna, relying on and even reproducing in translation an article that appeared in the Spanish online publication Página Católica, is that Father James Martin was the sole force behind the inclusion of these testimonies. Of note, there is no testimony from a female nor from a same-sex attracted Catholic of either gender who is endeavoring to live accordance with what the Church teaches. Aiding those who desire to do just that constitues the raison d'etre of Courage.

Montagna writes: "The revelations even further erode the credibility of the Synod on Synodality, long presented by the Vatican as an exercise in listening to the whole Church with broad ecclesial representation." As a result of this, the General Secretariat of the Synod is seeking to place some distance between itself and the group reports, especially that of Study Group 9.

To my mind, the most salient criticism of the synodal way up to now is that it is not broadly representative of the Church. I have voiced similar reservations from the beginning. I am in no way opposed to synodality. What we're seeing is something else entirely.

Having read more in-depth about Pope Leo, it strikes me that these are the kinds of things he's good at engaging. His comments on the German bishops' liturgical text for blessing same-sex unions indicate that he is not one to shrink back from challenges. Even Pope Francis frequently noted that, as a son of the Church, he fully embraced with the Church teaches and believed in what the Catechism teaches on these matters.

If the Study Group 9 report weren't enough, we have the German conference of bishops seeking to act in direct contradiction of Fiducia Supplicans as written as well as to subsequent clarfications by the Dicastery of the Doctrine of the Faith. See Larry Chapp's "The German Gambit" and Luke Coppen's "Where is the Rome-Germany blessings battle heading?"

Coppen's article highlights the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith's 2024 letter, mentioned by the Prefect in a recent interview. In the same interview, Cardinal Fernandez made a point of stating that the DDF's negative 2024 judgment not only applied to the draft sent to Rome but the final form as well. The forthrightness and heading off at the pass seems to me pure Pope Leo.

In all honesty, I have to admit that the point of Fiducia Supplicans remains a mystery to me. Prior to its promulgation, people asked for and received spontaneous blessings from bishops, priests, and deacons. I surmise that such blessings were readily given without probing moral inquiries into the lives of those requesting them. I've never interrogated anyone asking me for a blessing. So, why muddy the waters?

In his introduction to a recently published French book, Homos Et Cathos: L’Église à l’épreuve du réel, Cardinal Jean-Paul Vesco, O.P. wrote: "For my part, I do not believe that the intention of this text was to permit only a 'hush-hush' blessing of same-sex couples, as has sometimes been understood." The "text" to which His Eminence refers is Fiducia Supplicans.

In light of section 5 of "this text," I have a hard time ascertaining how Cardinal Vesco can arrive at the conclusion he does. This is not some ideological or editorial point. I seriously don't see how the Cardinal's belief can persist in light of what Fiducia Supplicans actually says.

Cardinal Willem Eijk of The Netherlands issued a strong response to Study Group 9's report (see "Cardinal Eijk: Same-Sex Synod Report Must Be Forcefully Refuted"). He, too, engages the testimonies. His Eminence gets to the heart of the matter, theologically speaking, when he insists:

The deeper problem lies in the report's entire methodological framework. The authors subordinate everything to describing a “synodal process” focused on people’s practices and experiences. They explicitly reject what they call “abstractly proclaiming and deductively applying principles that are set out in an immutable and rigid manner.” Instead, they advocate for maintaining a “fruitful tension between what has been established in the Church’s doctrine and Her pastoral practice and the practices of life”

To be clear, virtually no one would dispute the last assertion about needing to maintain such a tension. But what is set forth, far from maintaining tension, is giving sole priority to the "the practices of life," which radically relativizes the Church's moral doctrine. Just as one should not let the practices of life side go slack, one should not drop the Church's moral doctrine. Pastoral ministry is an art that requires balancing a person's lived experience with what the Church teaches.

In any case, it seems clear that in addition to the need to reflect the Church more broadly, there needs to be much more robust discussion and even arguing in the synodal process. What if, for example, a representative of Courage (representing a Church-approved apostolate) was included in Study Group 9? Also, the competency of the study committees needs to be much better defined.

Robust disputation done in good faith is true dialogue. The Church has a great tradition of theological disputation. Such unfeigned and forthright interaction is the only way to achieve genuine unity. The kinds political manuvering that prompted this overly long post undermines unity by seeking to impose. This becomes particularly troublesome when doctrinal matters are in play. A small group of likeminded people is not an exercise in synodality.

The main point of this post isn't really to take sides in any specific debate. It is simply to highlight that, at least thus far, the synodal process needs to be much more robust. Also, the Church needs to be less, not more, self-referential. To be missionary disciples, we must be clear about our mission: proclaiming that Jesus Christ is Lord, with all that entails and not lightly discarding what has been handed on to us.

Deacons extended

Reading: Acts 8:5-8.14-17

Today finds me in rural Pennsylvania. Liberty Township, to be precise. I am here to lay my father-in-law to rest. He died in late January. It's beautiful and peaceful here. Now that I'm here, I find myself wishing our trip wasn't quite so short.

In any case, in our first reading for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, we hear more more one of the seven men who the Church holds to be her first deacons. Of the seven men set apart and consecrated for service in and to the primitive Church, there are only two we hear more about: Stephen and Philip.

There is of course Stephen, who, in addition to serving the Jerusalem community that held all things in common by ensuring what was held in common was distributed justly, began to boldly proclaim Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, God's anointed. As a result, at the behest of one Saul of Tarsus, he was stoned to death.

Acts also informs us about Philip, also one of the seven men chosen by the community and consecrated by the apostles. After the martyrdom of Stephen, the Church, which, at this early stage, only existed in Jerusalem, experienced (likely also at the hands of the same Saul), a terrible persecution. It was due to this persecution that Philip and his daughters fled northward to Samaria.

Once in Samaria, like Stephen in Jerusalem, Philip "proclaimed Christ to them," that is, proclaimed Jesus as Messiah to the people of Samaria (Acts 8:5). Not only did this deacon proclaim the Gospel of salvation through Jesus, who is the Christ, he performed signs and wonders. He healed those who were physically handicapped and paralyzed.

As people responded to his proclamation of the kerygma, Philip baptized them. In short, the Holy Spirit, working through Philip, accomplished something of a mini-Pentecost in Samaria. Philip then went back to Jerusalem to retrieve Peter and John. These two apostles then went and "confirmed" the baptism of the Samaritans who had placed their faith in Christ. For those, like me, with some charismatic inclinations, baptized them with the Holy Spirit.

Saint Philip in Samaria

In our passage, taken from the Lord's Last Supper Discourse in Saint John, Jesus tells His closest disciples that when He goes, He will send them the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, "another Advocate." The Holy Spirit is the mode of Christ's resurrection presence among, in, and through us. These days, it seems, we are falling back into more of an institutional posture at the expense of a charismatic one. Noting this, Pope Francis sought to create some much-needed tension.

This kind of tension energizes the Church. When it comes to the institutional and charismatic, we need to grasp the Catholic et/et (i.e., both/and). It is the Holy Spirit who allows us to avoid and overcome our tendency to create false dilemmas. The Church should neither be a lifeless institution nor an antinomian free-for-all.

Let's not forget, hearkening back to last week's reading from Acts, the threefold criteria for those considered the Church's first deacons was clearly set forth: men of good reputation, who are filled the Spirit, and with wisdom. Wisdom, of course, being one the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Given its ministerial flexibility to serve the Church and the world, the diaconate is itself a charismatic office. It should be understood and exercised as such.

Year 2 Friday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 15:22-31; Psalm 57:8-10.12; John 15:12-17

Along with “thy will be done,” having no greater love than laying down one’s life for a friend, is perhaps the most overused and misused of Jesus’ words.¹ We can probably also include “judge not” on this list, a different topic for another day.² When it comes to dying for another, we must keep in mind the unique efficacy of Christ’s sacrificial death.

Recognizing the unique nature of Christ’s sacrifice is vital to grasping what Jesus is saying. God’s love, given to us in Christ and poured out by the Holy Spirit, remains even when we fail to do what the Lord commands. These are what keep us from using Jesus’ words in vain.

What is it that the Lord commands us to do that, if and when we do it, we are His friends? Love one another as He loves us.³ But let’s not fall into the trap of separating these two things. To love others, to love your neighbor, to make yourself a neighbor, especially to those in need, is to lay your life down for them. In this passage, “love” translates the Greek word agape, which denotes self-giving, sacrificial love.

In our Gospel passage, Jesus is not talking about two separate things. He is not even talking about two different but related things, one following from the other. He is saying you lay down your life for others more by how you live than by any willingness to die. You lay down your life by loving them the way Christ loves you.

In his Letter to the Romans, Saint Paul noted that “only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die.”He went on to state, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”⁵

The Cistercian monk, Father M. Louis, more famously known by his birth name, Thomas Merton, in a letter written to Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day, summarizes Jesus’ teaching very well:

Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody's business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy⁶

This is how you become a friend of Jesus.

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1 Matthew 26:42; Luke 22:42; John 15:13.^↩
2 Matthew 7:1.^↩
3 John 15:12.^↩
4 Romans 5:7.^↩
5 Romans 5:8.^↩
6 Cited in Catholic Voices in a World on Fire, by Stephen Hand, pg 180. Lulu Press, 2005.^↩

Reflection on the Blessed Virgin Mary

May and Mary differ by only one letter. Since May is traditionally the month dedicated to our Blessed Mother, maybe we should just call it “the month of Mary,” as in January, February, March, April, Mary, June. Well, it’s easier than somehow trying to derive “Rosary” from October, right?

May is a beautiful month. Along with October, it is a transitional month. It is in May that the annual cycle of nature, coming alive during Spring, reaches completion. It is generally a time of blue, sunny skies and generally mild temperatures. A time before the heat of summer begins.

May is a colorful month. A month when nature produces vivid colors: blue sky, green grass and trees, red, white, yellow, purple, and orange flowers. May also feature clear, rushing streams, the snow of winter melting into water. Most years, like this one, most of Mary's month falls during the sacred season of Easter.

It’s odd that the Blessed Virgin Mary has become a stumbling block to Christian unity. She has been venerated in a unique way since the beginning of the Church. An example of this is the Glorious Assumption, which is celebrated each year on 15 August by both Catholic and Orthodox Christians. The major Protestant Reformers- Luther, Calvin, and Cranmer- all continued to venerate our Blessed Mother.

Like praying for the dead, seeking the maternal assistance of holy Mary, Mother of God, is a fundamental Christian practice. How could the woman chosen to give birth to God’s only Begotten Son not somehow stand out? Just as the Son is consubstantial with the Father as to His divinity, through His Blessed Mother, He is consubstantial with us pertaining to His humanity.

Just like I can’t pass up the opportunity to use the words “penultimate” or “juxtapose,” I can’t do a reflection on our Blessed Mother without at least mentioning hyperdulia. It’s a cool word. One reason why some non-Catholic Christians question devotion to Mary is that they mistakenly believe that we worship her.

Commandment one bids us worship God and God alone. In Greek, this is called latria. Far from worshiping the saints, we venerate them. The Greek word for this is dulia. The Blessed Virgin Mary falls into her own special category, one that lands somewhere between latria and dulia. This category does not rise to the level of worship but remains higher than veneration: hyperdulia. The prefix hyper means over, beyond, or even excessive.

So, during the month of Mary, let us rely on her maternal care, asking her to intercede for us daily through her Holy Rosary, during Easter by reciting the Regina Caeli. And by frequent use of her Memorare:

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary,
that never was it known
that anyone who fled to thy protection,
implored thy help, or sought thy intercession,
was left unaided

"But they were looking for a king to conquer and to kill"

Not sure why I am not inclined to deal with today's Gospel, which takes us back to Saint John's Last Supper Discourse. I think perhaps it's because it's one of those passages that compacts a lot into a relatively few verses- though still a fairly long Gospel reading. Maybe it's because our first and epistle readings are post-resurrection I am drawn to them. Heck, I don't know.

Since I haven't been posting a Friday traditio, I thought today I would post a Sunday traditio

As it pertains to the Gospel, Rich Mullins' "That Where I Am There You May Also Be" came to mind. This is one of those songs Rich was working on at the time of his death. This is why I am posting the demo version. What was entitled The Jesus Record was recorded by the Ragamuffin Band with various Christian artists after Rich's death.

Since I did my reflection on the reading from Acts 6:1-7, which is taken to be the institution of the diaconate, our Sunday traditio arises from our reading from 1 Peter (1 Peter 2:4-9). In verse 8, the Greek noun skandalou is used. In the NABRE, this noun is translated as "A stone that will make people stumble." Literally, the English word "scandal" is something that causes others to stumble and finds its root in the Greek skandalon.

Both then, in the early Church being persecuted, and now, even (maybe especially) in a comfortable culture, Christ is a skandalon. So, Michael Card's "Scandalon" is our Sunday traditio. Tying this to today's Gospel, it is the cause of no little scandal that Jesus insists, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6). Now, without watering down His words, understanding what this really means requires some unpacking and unfolding. But I am not going undertake that here.

Good shepherds to good deacons

Acts 6:1-7

Our first reading for the Fifth Sunday of Easter is what the Church, at least since Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, has taken to be the scriptural account of the institution of the diaconate (See Against the Heretics, Book III, Chapter 10). Hence, as a deacon, it seems appropriate to reflect on this today. Following, as it does, Good Shepherd Sunday, which is usually employed, and rightly so, to talk about priestly ministry, it seem fortuitous to reflect on the diaconate.

If we take Acts 6:1-7 seriously as the inspired account of the institution of the diaconate (exegetically, there are a few issues with doing so unreservedly), we see that there are three fundamental criterion: men of good reputation, who are "filled with the Spirit and wisdom" (Acts 6:3). At least in part, being a man of good reputation means being a just man.

The diakonia in which Stephen, Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicholas of Antioch, were set apart to engage in was ensuring that within the primitive Christian community, which held all things in common, that Greek-speaking widows received their fair share of the daily distribution of food. Since this diakonia was table service, we can stretch this to perhaps entail both the ministries of charity and of liturgy a little anachronistically.

What about the diakonia of the word? Well, there is a reason that Stephen, followed by Philip, is the first of the seven men named. As a reading of the rest of Acts 6 and then Acts 7 shows, it wasn't long before at least Stephen joined with the apostles in proclaiming the kerygma. It was for this that he was made the Church's first martyr.

Not long after that, when the primitive Church fell under heavy persecution in Jerusalem, causing many to flee, including Philip along with his daughters, that the second of the seven named preached the Gospel and baptized in Samaria. His most famous convert being the Ethiopian eunuch. It was Philip who went and brought Peter and John from Jerusalem to Samaria to impart the Holy Spirit on those whom he had baptized (see Acts 8).

As the ones who proclaim the Gospel in the liturgy, is important for the deacon to always keep in mind the exhortation received from his bishop during ordination as the bishop placed the evangelary in his hands: "Believe what you read, teach what you believe, and practice what you teach." Selflessness is at the heart of all Christian ministry, especially ordained ministry.

Saint Peter consecrating the Seven Deacons (Saint Stephen is shown kneeling), by Fra Angelico, in Niccoline Chapel, 1447

Through ordination one receives the sacramental grace necessary to serve like Christ. Just as there are uncommitted, half-hearted, and even bad priests, there are those kinds of deacons as well. Jesus Christ is the model deacon. When He told the twelve, "I am among you as the one who serves," what He said, when translated more literally, is, "I am among you as the deacon" (see Luke 22:27).

I think the best way to end this is with what might be called the magna carta of the renewed diaconate, the restoration of which as a permanent office was called for by the Second Vatican Council and realized a few years later. It is the section twenty-nine of the Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium. I am going to italicize and embolden parts that I feel need to be much better grasped by everyone, including deacons:

At a lower level of the hierarchy are deacons, upon whom hands are imposed "not unto the priesthood, but unto a ministry of service." For strengthened by sacramental grace, in communion with the bishop and his group of priests they serve in the diaconate of the liturgy, of the word, and of charity to the people of God. It is the duty of the deacon, according as it shall have been assigned to him by competent authority, to administer baptism solemnly, to be custodian and dispenser of the Eucharist [an ordinary minister of Holy Communion], to assist at and bless marriages in the name of the Church, to bring Viaticum to the dying, to read the Sacred Scripture to the faithful, to instruct and exhort the people, to preside over the worship and prayer of the faithful, to administer sacramentals, to officiate at funeral and burial services. Dedicated to duties of charity and of administration, let deacons be mindful of the admonition of Blessed Polycarp: "Be merciful, diligent, walking according to the truth of the Lord, who became the servant of all."

Since these duties, so very necessary to the life of the Church, can be fulfilled only with difficulty in many regions in accordance with the discipline of the Latin Church as it exists today, the diaconate can in the future be restored as a proper and permanent rank of the hierarchy. It pertains to the competent territorial bodies of bishops, of one kind or another, with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, to decide whether and where it is opportune for such deacons to be established for the care of souls. With the consent of the Roman Pontiff, this diaconate can, in the future, be conferred upon men of more mature age, even upon those living in the married state. It may also be conferred upon suitable young men, for whom the law of celibacy must remain intact.

Belated Short Reflection for Good Shepherd Sunday

Each year, the Fourth Sunday of Easter is observed as Good Shepherd Sunday. Understandably, this Sunday often used to encourage young men to consider whether God might be calling them to be priests. All priests, but especially those who serve parishes as pastors, are shepherds. "Pastor" is more or less synonymous with "shepherd."

While all pastors and all priests (and all bishops) should strive to be good shepherds, there is only one Good Shepherd: Jesus Christ. This realization is vital, critical, essential for God's people as a whole and for each of us individually, including those who serve as shepherds. One of the beauties of being Catholic is that a parish is not built on the charisma of single priest, thus running the risk of collapsing when he is transferred, retires, or leaves for some other reason. Don't get me wrong there are some wonderfully charismatic priests. There are also some manipulatively charismatic priests.

I thank the Lord for the many steady, stable, well-adjusted, emotionally mature priests who take their calling seriously by engaging in their ministry diligently. I know one of the struggles of many such priests after they retire is how quickly and completely they seem to be forgotten by those they served so wholeheartedly. Yet, their consolation, too, the spiritually mature ones know, comes from the Good Shepherd. Whether we want to face it or not, contemporary U.S. culture, when it comes to relationships of virtually any kind, is very transactional.

One of the oldest representations of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, made around 300 AD., original painted in Crypt of Lucina, Rome

When a priest isn't a good shepherd, perhaps a half-hearted, not fully committed, or even negligent one, this shouldn't cause you to lose faith. Go ahead and be disappointed, discouraged, even a bit dismayed. Also, deeply appropriate the first verse of Psalm 23: "The LORD is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack." Now, for a time, you may lack a good shepherd. But you always have the Good Shepherd. Lean into Him. Draw close to Him. Let Him draw you close. In terms of faith, this is a matter of life and death!

Despite everything that's happened over the past quarter century, there still remain wolves disguised, not as sheep, but as shepherds. Maybe the better term, being a lifelong Westerner, is there are rustlers, or, to quote Jesus, "thieves." Moreover, there are no few hirelings seeking to fleece the flock.

It is the Good Shepherd who pursues you with goodness and mercy your whole life through. He sets the banquet of the Eucharist before you. He can even do this through the ministry of a not so good shepherd. It is the Good Shepherd who brings you to lush, verdant pastures, sets you beside still waters, and who restores your soul.

Memorial of Saint Joseph the Worker

Readings: Genesis 1:26-2:3; Psalm 90:3-4.12-14.16; Matthew 13:54-58

In 1955, Pope Pius XII made 1 May the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker. He did this so it would fall on the same day as International Workers Day, usually called “May Day.” In the eighteenth century, May Day became a secular celebration of workers’ rights. In short, May Day was a major celebration for the communists in Communist countries and for Communist parties outside the Soviet sphere, especially in Western Europe.

By inaugurating the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker, the Holy Father wanted to emphasize the Christian understanding of the necessity, importance, and dignity of work. Addressing the Catholic Association of Italian Workers on 1 May 1955, Pius XII, speaking about Saint Joseph, insisted:

There could not be a better protector to help you penetrate the spirit of the Gospel into your life…From the Heart of the Man-God, Savior of the world, this spirit flows into you and into all men; but it is certain that no worker has ever been as perfectly and deeply penetrated by it as the putative Father of Jesus, who lived with Him in the closest intimacy and commonality of family and work¹

Adding, “So, if you want to be close to Christ, We also today repeat to you ‘Ite Ioseph‘: Go to Joseph!”² The antiphon for the Invitatory for today’s Memorial is: “Come let us worship Christ the Lord who was honored to be known as the son of a carpenter.”³

The Church’s understanding of the integrating nature of human work is grounded in the command given in Genesis to be stewards of God’s good earth and to engage in productive labor.

In his encyclical on the dignity of work, Laborem Exercens, Pope Saint John Paul II, a man, like our pastor, all too familiar with the oppressive nature of communism, observed:

the Church considers it her task always to call attention to the dignity and rights of those who work, to condemn situations in which that dignity and those rights are violated, and to help to guide [social] changes so as to ensure authentic progress by man and society⁴

Saint Joseph the Worker, by Ade Bethune

Let’s not forget that in Poland, it was the labor union Solidarity, named after one of the fundamental elements of the Church’s social teaching, that was instrumental in bringing about the freedom necessary for workers to enjoy the fruit of honest labor. Labor unions, which the Church continues to support, are great examples of living out the Church’s social teaching. Unions seek to safeguard human dignity by pursuing the common good, building solidarity, and being self-governing organizations, they also exemplify subsidiarity.

Since Pope Leo XIII’s 1891 encyclical Rerum Novarum, which kicked off the Church’s modern social teaching, the Church has sought to advocate for worker's rights, especially against often greedy wealthy interests. Rerum Novarum marked the Church’s somewhat delayed response to the Industrial Revolution.

With the digital revolution now culminating with the development of artificial intelligence, which poses as many or more threats than it does human benefits, it is no accident that our current pope took the papal name Leo. Since shortly after becoming Roman Pontiff, Pope Leo XIV has been at work on an encyclical addressing technology and artificial intelligence.

The encyclical is meant to serve the same purpose as Rerum Novarum for our time; it is projected to be entitled Magnifica Humanitas (Magnificent Humanity).⁵ Pope Leo XIV deems it necessary for the Church to contribute to the pressing discussion about technological development by evaluating AI through the lens of integral human development, and to assess its current and future impact on human society.

By tirelessly working to protect and provide for his family while striving to listen to and obey God, Saint Joseph serves as a role model. Saint Joseph the Worker. Pray for us.

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1 Pope Pius XII. Speech to Catholic Association of Italian Workers. 1 May 1955.^↩
2 Ibid.^↩
3 Liturgy of the Hours. Proper of Saints, 1 May, Invitatory Antiphon for the Memorial of Saint Joseph the Worker.^↩
4 Pope John Paul II. Encyclical Letter On Human Work (Laborem Exercens), sec. 1.^↩
5 Daniel Esparza. “'Magnifica Humanitas’: Pope Leo XIV’s Rerum Novarum moment” on Aleteia. 2 January 2026.^↩

Year 2 Friday of the Third Week of Easter

This is longer than my homily. In this format, there are a few things I wanted to expand on.

Readings: Acts 9:1-20; Psalm 117:1bc-2; John 6:52-59

It’s funny how so many people who take the entire Bible quite literally, thus reading many of its books in a flat, two-dimensional way, refuse to take the text literally in some instances when it is, in fact, meant to be taken more or less literally. Jesus’ Bread of Life Discourse, found in the sixth chapter of Saint John’s Gospel, is one such instance.

It’s clear from the Greek, the language in which the entire New Testament was originally written, that when the Lord spoke of eating His flesh and drinking His blood, He was speaking in what we might call real terms. His words, as the reaction of those who heard them clearly shows, are shocking. This is why some of them ask, “How can this man give us [his] flesh to eat?”¹

Consider, too, that the setting is the synagogue in Capernaum. What Jesus says in this passage is not just mind-blowing but, at least to Jewish ears, maybe even downright blasphemous. Even if He were not talking about His own flesh and blood, or what sounded like human flesh and blood, Jews do not drink or even eat blood. It is strictly forbidden. So, let's not be too harsh on those who heard these words and were, well, disburbed by them.

Jesus says this before He institutes the Eucharist at the Last Supper. It also bears noting that, unlike the institution narratives in the Synoptic Gospels (i.e., Matthew, Mark, and Luke), the inspired author of Saint John’s Gospel writes about the Lord washing the feet of His closest disciples.² What is important to note is that, despite the literal nature of these words, at the words of consecration, the dead body of Jesus does not plop down on the altar to be divvied up.

Theologically, the two most difficult matters to address are the Blessed Trinity and the Holy Eucharist, perhaps followed by the hypostatic union. The reason why is that these are deep, fundamental, and unfathomable mysteries of Christian faith.

First off, it's important to start with the reality that the Lord is not dead but resurrected and alive. Being truly human and resurrected, He has a body. Second, if we understand the consecrated bread and wine to be transformed into Christ’s body and blood in a capharnaitic way, considering His resurrection, there would be only a very limited amount of Him to consume. In the context of the Eucharist, “capharnaitic” is often referred to as “physicalism.”

In this context, "physicalism" means that, rather than understanding the mode of Christ’s Eucharistic presence in a sacramental and substantial way, it is understood in what can be be described as a gross and primitive way. In fact, physicalist understandings of the Eucharist, reported miracles notwithstanding, are condemned by the Church. Rather, transubstantiation refers to a change in substance while the accidents remain.

A substantial change, which, in the Eucharist, is effected by the Holy Spirit, is a real change. This substantial change is not a physical change. In metaphysical terms, one might say in this way the Holy Spirit makes Christ's presence more real.

Believing in Christ's real presence in the Eucharist is what Aquinas would call a truth of faith. It is of faith because it is something we know only because God revealed it, this is also makes it, theologically speaking, a mystery. But even truths of faith need to be explored by human reason. After all, faith seeks understanding. It's important these things makes sense without deviating from divine revelation. This is one reason why we need the Church.

One of the reasons the Church is so clear on this is because during her earliest centuries, Christians were often accused of engaging in cannibalism. No doubt, this is what the people gathered in the Capernaum synagogue thought Jesus was suggesting.

Let’s not forget that Christ is really present in the Eucharistic celebration (with no celebration, there is no Eucharist- divorcing the Blessed Sacrament from the Mass is a huge mistake) in four ways: in the gathering of the baptized, in the person of the priest, in the proclamation of the scriptures, and in the transformed elements of bread and wine.³

Because the Holy Spirit is the mode of Christ’s resurrection presence, the Eucharist is the most real encounter with the Risen Lord one can have. It is through Holy Communion and all the sacraments that Christ gives Himself to us totally. Such an encounter, as Saint Paul’s encounter shows, is life-changing. It is notable that after he was baptized, Paul ate and regained his strength. Is there a detectable Eucharistic undertone in this? Maybe.

It is important to grasp that, at its core, to believe in the real, sacramental presence of Christ in the Eucharist is to believe in His Resurrection from the dead. By exercising His priestly ministry in the Mass, our Risen Lord makes present His triumph over death. This is why “whoever eats this bread will live forever.”⁴

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1 John 6:52.^↩
2 See John 13:1-17.^↩
3 Second Vatican Council. Dogmatic Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium), sec. 7^↩
4 John 6:58.^↩

"Were not our hearts burning. . .?"

Luke 24:13-35

After quite a bit of planning and some fanagaling, I have a Sunday off. Yesterday evening, after a long day of teaching, I was able to quietly attend a Vigil Mass at another parish. Today is my first day off since the week before Holy Week.

I was sorely tempted to just let it go today. But I felt impelled (not compelled, had that been the case, I would've resisted), to share a concentrated take on today's Gospel reading: The Road to Emmaus. I never really fully grasped the centrality of the Emmaus pericope until I read Louis-Marie Chauvet's The Sacraments: The Word of God at the Mercy of the Body.

Saint Luke's pericope in which the inspired author conveys the story of what happened to Cleopas and companion (perhaps his wife?) as they made their way back home to their village after Jesus' passion and death is simply amazing. Cleopas and companion ("companion" is literally someone with whom you share bread) had even heard news of some women, fellow disciples of Jesus, seeing angels who they said told them that Jesus rose from the dead.

But all these two disappointed disciples saw after hearing these reports was an empty tomb. What does an empty tomb prove? Did those women really encounter angels?

Saint Luke's telling of what happened on the way to and then in Emmaus contains an inspired and comprehensive Eucharistic theology as well as a fairly well sketched out liturgical theology, which even includes a dismissal. The dismissal occurs when, having recognized the Risen Lord in the breaking of bread, which happened after a very extended liturgy of word (like the one at the Paschal Vigil), they rush the seven miles back to Jerusalem, despite it now being nightime, to tell the others what they had seen and heard and how their hearts were burning.

The story of the road to Emmaus tells the story of the Word becoming flesh and how the Word still becomes flesh. Through the Eucharist, the flesh the Word now takes is your flesh, my flesh. When we say the Church is the Body of Christ, we are not using an analogy. We are describing reality.

The mystery of life in Christ is that Christ can live in you (Colossians 1:27). Moreover, Christ desires not only to live in but through you and through me. You and I, along with everyone who else who partakes of Christ's Body and Blood, are united in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit by partaking of the one bread and the one cup (okay, chalice). Given to us by the Lord Himself, the Church makes the Eucharist and the Eucharist, in turn, makes the Church the Body of Christ.

Let's be honest, the only convincing evidence that the bread and wine are transformed (transubstantiated) into Christ's Body and Blood are the lives of those of us who eat and drink. Conversely, the best argument against this reality are the lives of those of us who partake. In the Eucharist, something really profound is happening, ex opere operato (i.e., whether you experience it or not).

While it is imporant and even necessary, don't remain content with minimalism, with hanging your hat on the peg of ex opere operato. Your participation, my participation, should be intentional. In the most important sense, this is what it means to actively participate.

For some reason, this Easter season, I feel impelled to emphasize that Jesus didn't just rise from the tomb. He is risen, denoting the on-going nature of His resurrection. Resurrection isn't merely something to be believed but something/Someone to be experienced in the way Cleopas and his companion did. Resurrection is not just a way of life, a manner of living, but a mode of being.

What should happen during the Eucharist should also resound beyond Mass and outside the walls of the Church. Quite simply, worship that doesn't lead to self-giving service isn't Christian worship. And so, "Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord. Alleluia." "Go in peace, glorfying the Lord by your life. Alleluia" (we won't use the double "Alleluia" again until the dismissal at Pentecost).

Year 2 Friday of the Second Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 5:34-42; Psalm 27:1.4.13-14; John 6:1-15

“And all day long, both at the temple and in their homes, they did not stop teaching and proclaiming the Christ, Jesus” (Acts 5:42). Indeed, Jesus is the Christ, the Christos, the Messiah, Meshiach. Jesus is the Anointed One, the Son of God, true God from true God. He didn’t just rise from the dead. He is is risen and alive!

That’s a lot of words! Isn’t that the risk we run, letting what passes for faith, which we often reduce to mere belief, become mostly or even exclusively words? Words found in Sacred Scripture are given to inspire us, to encourage, to challenge, and to provoke us. This is why faith is a verb, not a noun. Faith is action, not description.

While we should appreciate Gamaliel's balanced approach, it should also be noted that he seemed to raise no objection to the flogging of the apostles. Maybe he thought that would dampen their zeal in proclaiming the itinerant from Nazareth as some kind of savior or as the Messiah. Rather than cool apostolic fervor, the trial, rebuke, and flogging only inflamed the twelve more. But, according to Gamaliel’s criterion, their message must have come from God.

While it’s true that prudence governs all the virtues, prudence should never be used as an excuse not to proclaim Christ. Saint Francis of Assisi, the deacon and great evangelist, who certainly preached Christ in both word and deed, never said, “Preach the Gospel and if necessary, use words.” Francis was ordained as a deacon to gain faculties to preach. Preach he did, as well as engage in selfless works of charity.

Rabban Gamaliel, Medieval Miniature, courtesy of Wikipedia

The other day, driving down Orchard, I was behind a car that had on its back bumper a sticker that read: “If Jesus had owned a gun, he’d still be alive today.” Talk about an exercise not only in missing the point but in missing the most important point. Jesus, armed with power that made and sustains all there is, love, agape, is not dead but is alive!

There is a huge difference between thinking of Jesus as alive rather than someone who lived and died a long time ago, as merely a historical figure. It makes an even bigger difference to have a life-changing encounter with the Risen Lord. This is possible because He ascended and sent the Holy Spirit, who is the mode of Christ’s resurrection presence. It is the Holy Spirit who effects the sacraments.

By gathering, listening to the scriptures, and receiving Holy Communion, you encounter the Risen Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. In each Mass, as the scriptures are proclaimed and Holy Communion is received, the Word becomes flesh in and through us. We are sent forth to constantly proclaim the Christ, Jesus, to be His presence, His hands, eyes, ears, feet, heart.

Make no mistake, Christ is king, but not one in the mold of King David, as the crowd and even His disciples imagined. He is king of a kingdom that, while it is not of this world, is both in and for the world. It is manifested in the world now as a mustard seed, as yeast, as a sign of contradiction to worldly powers, which often chafe at when it is presented.

The power of Christ is the power of self-giving love. There is no better sign, no better symbol, no more meaningful demonstration of this than the sacramentum caritatis, the mysterion agape, the sacrament of self-giving love, that is, the Eucharist.

Divine Mercy Chaplet w/ Exposition

By the mercy of God, we come before our Risen Lord, present in the Eucharist. His Eucharistic presence is a present, a gift flowing from Divine Mercy. In a few moments, praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, given mystically to Saint Faustina Kowalska, we implore the Father for the sake of His Son’s sorrowful passion, to have mercy on us and on the whole world.

By praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy together, we intercede for the world before the Father, through the Son, in the power of their Holy Spirit. We ask God to have mercy on the world and on us. Yesterday, Pope Leo held a Rosary Vigil for peace Saint Peter’s Basilica. At same time locally, there was a Rosary procession in Salt Lake City, which began and ended at our cathedral. This gathering is an extension of the Holy Father’s vigil.

In a memorandum issued last Thursday, Bishop Solis directed that in all prayerful gatherings of the faithful in our diocese this Divine Mercy Sunday, we pray for peace throughout the world and for respect for the human dignity of migrants and for their safety. In obedience to our bishop, this Chaplet of Divine Mercy is offered for those two intentions. Of course, it is right and fitting to add your own intentions to these communal intentions, just as at Mass.

Evil is real. I am not sure I agree with the assertion that evil is merely a lack. Evil seems to me, at least at times, to have some substance. In a world full of chaos and uncertainty, where, as Pope Leo noted in his new year’s address to the ambassadors accredited to the Holy See, war, with all its concomitant suffering, seems to once again be in vogue. This causes many to wonder if evil has any limit.

Toward the end of his life, Pope Saint John Paul II, who was instrumental in Saint Faustina’s canonization and who established the Second Sunday of Easter as Divine Mercy Sunday, wrote about the limit God imposes on evil.

John Paul II insisted you can’t “think of the limit placed by God himself upon the various forms of evil without reference to the mystery of Redemption.” He then asked, “Could the mystery of Redemption be the response to that historical evil which, in different forms, continually recurs in human affairs?” Before jumping too quickly to give a facile answer to a complex question, he annunciated some of the evils. All too easily, he insisted, we can come to see

the evil of concentration camps, of gas chambers, of police cruelty, of total war, and of oppressive regimes - evil which, among other things, systematically contradicts the message of the Cross - it can seem...that such evil is more powerful than any good

He then urged us to pay close attention to history. Doing so, “we discover that this is precisely where the victorious presence of Christ's Cross is most clearly revealed.” Against a dark background the light shines forth more brightly. For “those subjected to systematic evil, there remains only Christ and his Cross as a source of spiritual self-defense, as a promise of victory.”

According to John Paul II, it is the Cross of Christ that “marks the divine limit placed upon evil, it is for this reason only: because thereby evil is radically overcome by good, hate by love, death by resurrection.”¹

It is only by bearing your cross daily and giving your life in loving service to others that you can experience resurrection, that is, in the words of Saint Augustine to the wealthy Roman widow Proba, life that is truly life!

Take courage, by His death and resurrection, Christ conquered evil and death. By His passion, death, and resurrection, Christ not only responds to all the evil in world, He vanquishes it. Christus resurrexit, quia Deus caritas est - Christ is resurrected because God is love.

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1 All citations from John Paul II. Memory and Identity: Conversations at the Dawn of the Millennium, 19-20. Random House: 2005.^↩

Year A Second Sunday of Easter

Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Ps 118:2-4.13-15.22-24; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

During this Easter season, both in the Sunday lectionary and for the Office of Readings (one of the offices that comprise the Liturgy of the Hours) the Church provides us with readings from 1 Peter. This inspired text focuses on the suffering endured by many early Christians.

Because we are in Year A of the three-year cycle of Sunday readings, we read from 1 Peter for six consecutive Sundays. While some readings feature it more explicitly, five out of the six broach the subject of suffering.

As the Buddha observed: to live is to suffer. As Christ painstakingly showed: to love is to suffer. But to love is also what it means to be truly alive. Theologian Herbert McCabe observed: “if you don’t love you’re dead, and if you do, they’ll kill you.”¹ While it is abundantly clear that suffering, in its various forms, is an inherent part of life, it’s important to note that God does not cause human suffering. On the contrary, humanity caused Christ’s suffering and death.

Both in His suffering and descent into hell, Christ retrieved human suffering from the void of meaninglessness. As Msgr Luigi Giussani insisted: “He mounted the Cross to free us from the fascination with nothingness, to free us from the fascination with appearances, with the ephemeral.” It is because the Lord “was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.”² Experience makes abstractions real.

In and through Christ, “the alchemy of grace can turn the lead of suffering into the gold of glory.”³ Being a Christian means steadfastly refusing to let suffering have the last word. Christians are incorrigible about this because we believe in the resurrection. This is what our epistle reading tells us: we rejoice in the “resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,” the source of our “living hope.”⁴

When accepted rather than refused or denied (both of which are futile responses) and united with Christ’s suffering, your suffering can be the means by which your faith is strengthened, your hope enlivened, and your charity increased.

Living this way, which cannot and does not attenuate the seriousness of suffering or dull its pain, will result in “praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”⁵ When you think about it, not letting your suffering diminish your living hope is the very revelation of Jesus Christ, just as the crucifixion is the deepest revelation of God’s very self.

Today’s Gospel has two distinct parts. In the first part, we hear what is held to be Christ’s institution of the Sacrament of Penance (i.e., confession). In part two, we hear Thomas’ merciful encounter with Christ. So, we might say that within one and the same Gospel reading the Church puts before us faith and doubt.

What ties faith and doubt together inextricably is the reality of suffering. Nothing produces doubt about God’s goodness, God’s power, or even God’s very existence more than suffering. But rather than denying suffering or seeing it as God’s punishment for wayward humanity, or an individual who has misbehaved, or inflicting divine wrath upon yourself, the doubt caused by suffering is vital and perhaps even necessary for faith.

According to our epistle reading, doubt caused by suffering is what makes your faith “more precious” and more enduring “than gold that is… tested by fire.”⁶ Doubt is not the opposite of faith. Certainty is the opposite of faith. In the context of suffering, it is people who can always produce a reason for suffering, usually by invoking pious platitudes,which grate. As Rich Mullins sang: “I know it would not hurt any less/Even if it could be explained.”⁷ Suffering is a mystery because there is no explanation that eases our pain.

It is very important to point out something our Gospel for Divine Mercy Sunday makes very clear: the Risen Lord still bears the wounds of his crucifixion. This is perhaps the best explanation of suffering available to us. It is God telling us he has suffered with us and continues to suffer with and even through us.

Thomas, who sadly remains stuck by the descriptor “Doubting,” isn’t faithless. Anyone who has attentively read the fourth Gospel knows that he is faithful start to finish. His experience of the Lord’s suffering and death certainly caused his hope to wane. Most likely, Thomas was heartbroken, despondent, grieving.

Maybe what he was told by the others simply seemed to be good to be true, something he wanted so badly to believe but couldn’t face the risk of disappointment if turned out not to be. Too often, we reduce Jesus’ closest disciples to caricatures, to two-dimensional figures, rather than complex human beings like us.

Thomas’ response should be our response whenever the consecrated host and the chalice are raised: “My Lord and my God!”⁸ Lest, anyone break his arm patting himself on the back for his superior faith, you are not among those who have not seen! Here today, the Risen Lord says, Eat my flesh and drink my blood, "and do not be unbelieving, but believe."⁹

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, let’s worship the God who is Mercy and dismiss the omnipotent moral monster of so many imaginations. Taking a cue from the closing prayer for the Chaplet of Divine Mercy: in difficult moments, like one we are presently living, may we not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to God’s holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself.

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1 From Terry Eagleton, “Lunging, Flailing, Mispunching,” London Review of Books, Vol. 28 No. 20, 19 October 2006.^↩
2 Hebrews 2:18.^↩
3 Ken Boa, from the podcast “In the Studio with Michael Card.”^↩
4 1 Peter 1:3.^↩
5 1 Peter 1:7.^↩
6 1 Peter 1:7.^↩
7 Rich Mullins lyrics to “Hard to Get.”^↩
8 John 20:28.^↩
9 John 20:27.^>↩

Friday in the Octave of Easter

Readings: Acts 4:1-12; Psalm 118:1-2.4.22-24.25-27a; John 21:1-14

Again, Happy Easter! Christus resurrexit! Christos anesti! Despite everything that might weigh us down or cause despair, we hope because Jesus rose from the dead. Because He lives, we can live because, by the power of the Spirit, He can live in us!

Just as Jesus discovered the price of love was death- though, by His resurrection, He proved love is stronger than death- it wasn’t too long before Peter and John discovered the cost of following Christ. Apart from healing in the name of Jesus, these two were arrested and charged with proclaiming the Lord’s resurrection.

When arraigned before the Jewish authorities, Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, boldly proclaimed the same Jesus they had condemned to death as the resurrected savior of the world. It was by His power he healed the handicapped man.

When charged with being a Christian, Peter didn’t make a case to the contrary and then anxiously wait to see if he was convicted. Rather, he pled guilty, loudly proclaiming His guilt. By what power or name did I heal the crippled man? The name of Jesus. You know, the guy you had killed!

Apparition du Christ sur les bords du lac de Tibériade, James Tissot, 1886-1894

Proclaiming Christ risen and reigning is the mission entrusted to all 266 of Saint Peter’s successors. You don’t need a doctorate in Church history to know that some of these did a lousy job carrying out this mission. Some even served as counter-witnesses. Thankfully, it’s been centuries since such an unworthy man has walked in the shoes of the Galilean fisherman.

Even during his short pontificate, Leo XIV has boldly proclaimed the Gospel during a time chaos and upheaval. I am quite certain he’s quickly learned, as Peter and John did, the good news is not always well received. Like Peter, this requires proclaiming it more boldly! This the Holy Father has done with persistence, serenity, and gentleness.

In Evangelii Nuntiandi, Pope Saint Paul VI plainly declared:

Evangelizing is. . . the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize, that is to say, in order to preach and teach, to be the channel of the gift of grace, to reconcile sinners with God, and to perpetuate Christ's sacrifice in the Mass, which is the memorial of His death and glorious resurrection (sec. 14)

In our Gospel today, we can see Peter’s jumping into the water as a kind of baptism and the meal the disciples ate with the Risen Lord as a Eucharist. Indeed, baptism should set someone running from the font to the Lord’s table, eager to partake of the saving sacrifice, the medicine of immortality.

Never forget that you are called to share what you receive here. You receive Christ. You are to share Christ. Because you are a member of Christ’s Body, your mission, your deepest identity, your reason for existing is to proclaim Christ.

Monday in the Octave of Easter

Readings: Acts 2:14.22-33; Psalm 16:1-2.5.7-11; Matthew 28:8-15

Today is not the Monday after Easter. Nor is it Monday of the First of Week of Easter. Today is Monday in the Octave of Easter. Today is Easter!

The Church observes the entire first week of Easter as one day. For those of us who pray the Liturgy of the Hours, the hymn, antiphons, and psalmody could easily become numbingly repetitive. Yet, somehow, they don’t, given the enormity of what we celebrate.

What do we celebrate? Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. The Lord’s rising from the tomb is so mind-bending that over nearly two millennia there have been no shortage of theories about what this might mean.

When it comes to Christ’s resurrection, I tend to take it fairly literally. Apart from there being difficulty in some account of recognizing Jesus risen from the dead, there is nothing in Sacred Scripture that indicates the Lord’s resurrection is to be taken in any way other than how it is described by those who claim to be eyewitnesses.

In our Gospel this evening, the two Marys have no difficulty recognizing Jesus, whom they encounter while running to tell the other disciples about the empty tomb. Seeing Him, they worship. Unlike when disciples fell at His feet during His earthly ministry, when He raised them up, He lets these two disciples worship Him in awe.

It is the sense of awe they express that causes the Risen Lord to reassure them by telling them not to be afraid. Due to its spontaneity and sincerity, the worship the two women offer is nearly perfect. It has both immanent and transcendent dimensions. Jesus is concretely “there,” they hug His feet, but He is resurrected and glorified.

While the two disciples went on their way to tell the others, not just that they found Jesus’ tomb empty but that they had seen Him risen, the quandary of the empty tomb had to be dealt with by the chief priests and elders. This leads to the first and even now persistent explanation: Jesus’ disciples took His body from the tomb, placed it somewhere else, and told everyone He rose from the dead. On this account, Christianity is built on a great fraud.

What does it mean to say Jesus rose from the dead? Well, in epistemological terms, it is a justifiable belief as is any belief that is not an outright impossibility, not a logical contradiction. On the contrary, insisting that it is utterly impossible for someone who is dead to come back to life is a bit of a fallacy. But when examined in this way, even a believer is forced to admit that the probability is low.

It is important, therefore, for belief to be bolstered by experience. To experience the Risen Lord by the power of the Holy Spirit, who is the mode of Christ’s resurrection presence, is a sine qua non of being Christian.

While it needs to be deeply personal, one does not have to be a mystic, like, say, Saint Teresa of Avila, to have an encounter with the Risen Christ. In the Eucharist, the Lord’s presence, by the power of the Holy Spirit, who is the agent of transubstantiation, is mediated to us under the appearance of ordinary bread and wine.

It is this mediation that makes the Eucharist real, tangible, empirical, edible and drinkable. All the sacraments are mediate (i.e., “real”) experiences of the Risen Lord.

Sometimes there is a desire to argue so fervently about the reality of what transubstantiation effects that the only way the bread and wine can make Christ really and truly present is dismissed. Here’s the truth, if sacraments are not both signs and symbols, they are nothing. This isn't to assert anything other than the bread and wine (elements chosen by Christ Himself) are the media used by the Holy Spirit to make Christ truly present.

In the other sacraments, the Spirit uses different media- water and oil, etc.- to effect the Lord's true presence.

Typically, a sign is something that stands in for something else. But the sacraments are “efficacious” signs, meaning they are what they signify. What they signify is really a who, Jesus Christ. This why we can say something like, “The Eucharist is not merely a sign.”

Sacraments are also symbols. “Symbol” comes from the Greek word symbolon. In Greek, symbolon refers to a token that is broken in half and used for the sake of recognition. In ancient times, a symbolon gave someone the right to be accepted by the party that owned the other half.

In the Eucharist, the Holy Spirit transforsm, transsubstantiates, the ordinary elements into Christ and our receiving these connects us to Christ, transforming us into His Body. In many ways, as theologian Henri de Lubac noted, it makes more sense to call the Eucharist Christ’s mystical Body and the Church His true body. After all, it is the Church, His Body, that serves as His hands, His eyes, His heart, His feet in the world. The Church is the sacrament of salvation in and for the world.

Like the two Marys, our worship of the Risen Christ should be spontaneous and heartfelt as we recognize His immanence in breaking of the bread, while at the same time being in awe of this great mystery in which we participate by grace. The Eucharist is the primary place to encounter the Risen Lord until He returns.

Urbi et orbi- Easter 2026

URBI ET ORBI MESSAGE
OF THE SUPREME PONTIFF
LEO XIV

Dear brothers and sisters,
Christ is risen! Happy Easter!

For centuries, the Church has joyfully sung of the event that is the origin and foundation of her faith: “Yes, Christ my hope is arisen / Christ indeed from death is risen / Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning” (Easter Sequence).

Easter is the victory of life over death, of light over darkness, of love over hatred. It is a victory that came at a very high price: Christ, the Son of the living God (cf. Mt 16:16), had to die — and die on a cross — after suffering an unjust condemnation, being mocked and tortured, and shedding all his blood. As the true immolated Lamb, he took upon himself the sin of the world (cf. Jn 1:29; 1 Pet 1:18–19) and thus freed us all — and with us, all creation — from the dominion of evil.

But how was Jesus able to be victorious? What is the strength with which he defeated once and for all the ancient adversary, the prince of this world (cf. Jn 12:31)? What is the power with which he rose from the dead, not returning to his former life, but entering into eternal life and thus opening in his own flesh the passage from this world to the Father?

This strength, this power, is God himself for he is Love who creates and generates, Love who is faithful to the end and Love who forgives and redeems.

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As it happens, this is the 4,300th post on Καθολικός διάκονος.

The Resurrection of the Lord

Readings: Acts 10:34a.37-43; Psalm 118:1-2.16-17.22-23; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9

One of the reasons many people find Christ’s resurrection incomprehensible is that, living in a highly reductive culture, it is thought to be something merely to be believed rather than something to be lived. Christ rising from the dead should never be reduced to merely another fact in the world. Resurrection is a mode of being more than it is a belief.

In baptism, you died, were buried, and rose with Christ to new life. As our reading from Colossians clearly states: “For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”¹ By looking at your life, could others tell this?

Especially for those, like me, who were baptized as adults, is your new life different from your old life? Are you still conformed to this age, or has the Holy Spirit transformed your mind and your heart?

In few moments, you will renew your baptismal covenant with God. Preparation for this renewal is what Lent is for. This is the moment you were to be preparing for these past six weeks. Are you prepared? Are you ready to re-commit to living resurrection?

Easter is not about remembering an event that happened a long time ago in a land far away. It is not a historical commemoration. It is a commitment, a recommitment, a renewal. Who knows, maybe even a transformation?

As those resurrected, we seek what is above even as we live day-to-day. Far from calling us to evade and avoid the world, life in Christ calls us to a deep engagement with the world. It calls on each of us to testify that Jesus Christ “is the one appointed by God.”²

In the passage from Saint John’s Gospel, nobody sees the risen Lord. All that is revealed to them is an empty tomb in which they find rolled up burial cloths in one place and the cloth that covered Jesus’ head across the chamber.

Hence, Mary Magdalene, Peter and John (who is the disciple whom Jesus loved) are puzzled. “For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”³ Nearly 2,000 years later, it is still difficult to understand what it means that Christ rose from the dead.

If you remember the Fifth Sunday of Lent, we also heard from Saint John’s Gospel. We heard about Jesus’ raising his friend Lazarus from the dead. When Jesus told His disciples that they were heading back to Judea upon learning that His friend had died, the reaction was, “Are you kidding me? We left there because they were going to kill you.” It was Thomas, sadly tagged as “doubting Thomas,” who, as Jesus pointed them southward, said, “Let us go die with him.”⁴

It may be easier to comprehend what it means to die with Christ than it is to grasp what it means to live in Him. It stands as a near certainty that Lazarus’ life was never the same after the Lord raised him from the dead. In like manner, our life, after Christ raised us from the waters of baptism should be different.

As to their discovery of the empty tomb prior to having any direct encounter with the Risen Lord, there were various possibilities as to why the tomb was empty. Mary Magadelene points to the most obvious one: someone has taken Jesus’ body and put elsewhere. From then until now, the question, Where is Christ? becomes perennial.

If Christ had not died, had not been raised, did not ascend, and did not send the Holy Spirit, then there would be no possibility of encountering Him today. The Eucharist is the most profound encounter with the Risen Christ. This is why if you really grasped what happens in the Eucharistic sacrifice, no one could keep you away from Mass.

Christ is not content merely to be close to you. He wants to be in you to live through you. It is by means of the sacraments, the Masterworks of the Holy Spirit, that He can do this- if you let Him, if you want Him to. Do you want Him to? That is the question on verge of renewing your baptismal commitment.

Where is Christ today? It is both His desire and His intent to be made present by His Body, the Church, comprised of those who eat His flesh and drink His blood. Mass comes from the Latin missa. Missa indicates, not being dismissed, but being sent. It is also related to missio, or mission. At the end of each Mass, we are sent forth on a mission.

This sending is a big part of what the makes the Church apostolic. An apostle, in Greek, is one who is sent. Our mission? Having encountered and received the Risen Lord in the Eucharist, sent forth to make Him present wherever you go.

If the Eucharist is the primary place to encounter the Risen Lord, then the only irrefutable proof that He is risen and, therefore, that the bread and wine are His body and blood, are the lives of those who partake.

Easter is about resurrection, transformation, conversion, about life coming from death. It’s springtime and we see this now happening everywhere you look. Today, Resurrection Sunday, let us go forth to proclaim that Christ is risen! He is truly risen from the dead. Therefore, everyone who believes in Him, “will receive forgiveness of sins through His name.”⁵

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1 Colossians 1:3.^↩
2 Acts 10:42.^↩
3 John 20:9.^↩
4 John 11:16.^↩
5 Acts 10:43.^↩