By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 16:12-15)

“Jesus said to His disciples:  ‘I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.  But when He comes, the Spirit of truth, He will guide you to all truth.”  This is such a fascinating statement by Jesus.  It suggests that while He was still with the apostles, their ability to comprehend all that He was doing was limited.  Even if He had explained everything that was about to happen on the night of the Last Supper in detail, it would have been lost on them.  Instead, He tells them they would, at a future time, get the help they would need to absorb the truth of His life and work.  That help would come in the Person of the Holy Spirit, whose descent on the apostles we celebrated last week on Pentecost.  Because of the chronology of these events, and, perhaps, even because of the way Jesus speaks about them, we might get the impression that the Holy Spirit had a kind of separate work from Jesus that could only begin once Jesus had ascended to the Father.  Today, we learn why that is not quite right.

When the Holy Spirit is sent to the disciples, Jesus tells them, “He will speak what He hears…He will glorify Me, because He will take from what is mine and declare it to you.”  Here we see that the Spirit’s work is actually rooted in Jesus.  He does not work independently but in entire submission to Jesus.  Likewise, Jesus works in entire submission to the Father, because “everything that the Father has” is His.  This is the dynamic communion of Persons mentioned so distinctly in the Gospels.  When Christians in the first centuries of the Church read passages like this one in Scripture, they began to work out the dogma that later became known as the Trinity.  Clearly there is a Father, a Son, and a Holy Spirit, and just as clearly, although different, they act as One.  The communion Jesus describes here is touched by love—a willing submission and a willing sharing.  How important this is for us to comprehend if we are ever to understand ourselves and to live our lives well!  Because we are in the image and likeness of God, we, too, will need to live with others who are like us, and our life will need to be characterized by both willing submission and sharing.

The dogma of the Most Holy Trinity isn’t only a theological truth; it can serve as a corrective when we make our lives small (and often miserable) by selfish individualism and pride.  Within the human community, our relationships can be touched by the same kind of palpable love we see in these few words about the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the Gospel.  This is not easy!  Good thing we have a Savior Who has come to make it possible.

Possible response:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, please teach me to love as You do.

First Reading (Read Prov 8:22-31)

Occasionally, the Old Testament gives us glimpses into the communion of Divine Persons within God Who were later revealed in salvation history.  This reading is one such passage.  The author of the proverb writes in a poetic way about the existence of “Wisdom” long before the earth existed.  The personification of Wisdom suggests that this is a description of the “Word” of God, Who eventually took on flesh and blood and was born into the world of men.  See that Wisdom was there at Creation with God, “beside Him as His craftsman.”  St. John later captures this idea in the prologue of his Gospel when he writes, “[Jesus] was in the beginning with God; all things were made through Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made” (see Jn 1:2-3).  We can feel the deep bond of love between God and His Wisdom:  “I was His delight day by day.”  Yet probably what startles and astounds us most in this passage is the last verse:  “I found delight in the human race.”  The Wisdom became the Word made flesh, Who so delighted in us that He died and rose again to save us.  When we contemplate this, we are led right into our responsorial psalm.

Possible response:  Father, this proverb wonderfully reminds me that all Creation is permeated with Your Wisdom.  The trouble I see in it is only temporary.

Psalm (Read Ps 8:4-9)

At some point, when we start to comprehend the marvel of God’s great wisdom and power, we inevitably ask the question the psalmist poses here:  “What is man that You should be mindful of him, or the son of man, that You should care for Him?”  We simply can’t fathom how it is that God could love us as much as He does.  God’s love isn’t simply an emotion.  His love led Him to create man in His image and likeness, desiring to share His life with him, and to crown him “with glory and honor…putting all things under his feet.”  The enormity of all this will make us sing out today:  “O Lord, our God, how wonderful Your Name in all the earth!”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rom 5:1-5)

St. Paul writes as one who has deeply contemplated the mystery of God’s love for man, and he helps us understand its implications.  First, because God has done the work of salvation through Jesus Christ for us, we are “justified by faith” and not by anything that we do.  This gives us “peace with God” and “access…to this grace in which we stand.”  Our lives are now opened up to the healing power of God through the grace of the sacraments.  St. Paul assures us that because this is true, we can boast not only about God’s glory (as we did in our psalm) but also “of our afflictions.”  How can that be?  Why would anyone boast of those?  St. Paul says that because God has placed us in His peace, we can experience our afflictions as purification toward perfection—the destiny God has always had for each of us from before time began.  How do we experience our afflictions that way?  “The love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”  In other words, the presence now of the Trinity in believers—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—has changed everything.

Possible response:  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, thank You for transforming my life so completely that even my afflictions work for my good.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 20:19-23)

Today’s Gospel tells us that Jesus surprised the disciples “on the evening of that first day of the week” by appearing in their midst without using a door (locked “for fear of the Jews”).  We wonder if He had to calm them down a bit, because He said, twice, “Peace be with you.”  We can imagine how startled they were.  He showed them His wounds, in case they thought He was a ghost.  Then, Jesus gave the apostles an astonishing commission:  “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you.”  What had begun three years earlier with a call to “Follow Me” (Mt 4:19) culminated in a sending out.  Their work was to be a continuation of the divine apostleship of Jesus (“apostle” means “one sent”; see Heb. 3:1).  If we have paid attention to the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ companionship with these men, we have seen clear indications that He intended to give the apostles authority to build His Church and do His work.  We are impressed by the scope of their mission but not really surprised by it.  However, after announcing His directive to them, Jesus steps out of the expected with an action that can only be described as strange:  “He breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’”  Don’t let familiarity with this verse rob it of its shock value.  Why on earth did Jesus breathe on His apostles?

To understand this moment, so different from anything we’ve yet seen in any Gospel account, we have to go back to the beginning, to the first time divinity breathed on humanity.  At Creation, “the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being” (Gen 2:7).  There is no clearer image than this of God’s desire to impart His own life into man, who is made in His image and likeness.  Adam and Eve’s fall into sin robbed them (and us) of their inheritance as God’s children, but the entire story of salvation reveals God’s plan to restore and renew His life in us.  So vivid is this image of God’s breath in man that it appears again at the time of the prophet, Ezekiel.  God’s people, Israel, were in exile in Babylon; they had been ravaged by their enemies as punishment for their covenant unfaithfulness.  They represent all of us who are spiritually dead and entirely helpless.  However, in His unrelenting determination to restore His people, God says to Ezekiel (whom He called “son of man”):  “’Son of man, can these bones live?’  And I answered, ‘O LORD God, Thou knowest.’  Again He said, ‘Prophesy to these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD…Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live…and you shall know that I am the LORD’” (Ez 36:3-6).

When we know this Old Testament history, Jesus breathing on the apostles on Resurrection Day no longer seems so odd, does it?  In this gesture, He begins the divinization of man, always God’s intention for His children.  The renewal of humanity begins, once again, with the breath of God.  For the apostles, this unique action enabled them to truly be Jesus’ continuing presence on earth.  They will forgive or retain sins, an action reserved for Divinity.  What about the rest of us?  Will the breath of God blow on us, too?  The other readings will help answer this question.

Possible response:  Father, thank You for loving us enough to share Your own breath with us—a marvel beyond description.

First Reading (Read Acts 2:1-11)

At His Ascension, Jesus told the apostles not to start on their mission of making disciples of all nations until they received “power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you” (Acts 1:8).  This helps us see that Jesus’ action of breathing on them on Resurrection Day was an initiation into the Holy Spirit, not the fullness they were meant to have.   For that, Jesus had them wait for the Jewish feast of Pentecost, nine days later.  Pentecost originally had been a harvest festival in the Jewish liturgical calendar; gradually it also became associated with a memorial celebration of God’s giving of the Law to His people at Mt. Sinai, when they had been delivered from slavery in Egypt.  The Law, or Torah, gave the people a way of life that would distinguish them from all other peoples on earth.  To seal the covenant, God actually came down on top of Mt.  Sinai, manifested in fire, smoke, thunder, an earthquake, and the loud sound of a trumpet (see Ex 19:16-19).  It was quite the fireworks show!

We need to know this history, because it helps us understand why Jesus waited until Pentecost to send the Holy Spirit on His Church.  Drawing on all the parallels with God’s visit to Mt. Sinai, the Jews gathered there in Jerusalem that day could comprehend this action as the “harvest” of God’s people, ready now, because of Jesus’ accomplished work, to receive God’s new Law of Love, to be written not on stone tablets but in the hearts of men by the Holy Spirit.  Just as God’s descent on Sinai meant the formation of Israel as a nation, the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost meant the formation of Jews and Gentiles into the Church, the new Israel.

Of course, the events on Pentecost evoke the deep symbolism of wind and fire throughout the Old Testament, not just at the Mt. Sinai covenant.  At Creation, “the wind” of God (literally, God’s “breath”) hovered over the waters of the earth, ready to do God’s bidding as He brought forth life (Gen 1:2).  The “wind” of God also blew apart the waters of the Red Sea so God’s people could escape from their enemies, the Egyptians.  As for fire, recall that God first appeared to Moses, the deliverer of His people, in a fiery bush.  Also, the people had to follow a pillar of fire to make their way home to the Promised Land.

The more we know of the imagery representing God in the Old Testament, the more we understand the Descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost as an explosion of fulfilled promises!  See that the tongues of fire rested over each of the apostles.  They will now be God’s presence in His Church, leading His people on their journey home to heaven.  To this day, the bishops of the Church, who are successors of these apostles, wear hats (mitres) in the shape of a flame of fire.  They are marked out as our pillars of fire, leading us on our pilgrim journey home to heaven.

What about the effects of all this amazing action?  The apostles were miraculously able to communicate the Gospel in the foreign tongues of the Jews assembled there.  All male Jews were required to make a yearly pilgrimage to Jerusalem for this feast; that explains why “there were devout Jews from every nation” there.  This immediately evokes the history of Babel (see Gen 11:1-9).  There human pride made a grab at heaven by building a tower up to God.  The solidarity of men (made possible by one language) was perverted to accomplish an evil end.  God broke it by confusing the one language into many.  Now, in the fullness of time, God grants the human solidarity for which man longs (because he is made for that) but which he cannot naturally achieve.  The Holy Spirit creates supernatural solidarity, represented here by all men being able to hear, in their own language, the mighty works of God.  This time, God reaches down to man rather than man trying to climb up to God.

So, now that we understand something of the background of Pentecost, we can ask whether all the rest of us who aren’t apostles will also have a share in this breath of God.  The answer is YES.  In verses not included in today’s reading, Peter answers the “what about us?” question:  “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:28).  Jesus wants to breathe on all of us and thus renew the face of the earth.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, may Your Church always live in the joy of Pentecost, in awe of Your power and presence.

Psalm (Read Ps 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34)

Today’s psalm celebrates the life-giving power of God’s Spirit.  Written long before the Day of Pentecost, it nevertheless summarizes both the past and the future.  “If you take away their breath, they perish and return to their dust” (Ps 104:29) reminds us of the Fall, at the beginning of man’s story.  Disobedience led to death:  “You are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Gen 3:19b).  “When You send forth Your Spirit, they are created, and You renew the face of the earth” (Ps 104:30) describes our celebration today.  The world, weary in sin, is in dire need of refreshment and renewal.  Maybe we are, too.  The psalm response is the perfect Pentecost prayer:  “Lord, send out Your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth.”

Possible response: The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13)

The Gospel showed us God’s desire to once again breathe His life into man.  The Book of Acts showed us that the gift of God’s breath, the Holy Spirit, entered the stream of human history on the Day of Pentecost, producing miraculous results.  In the epistle, St. Paul gives us a theological reflection on the meaning of all this history.  He explains that none of us can confess Jesus as Lord without the Holy Spirit.  Our Christian faith is, itself, a work of God’s breath, the Spirit, in us.  That Spirit gives to believers a wide variety of spiritual gifts, creating diversity of service in His Church.  However, because it is “the same God” Who produces this diversity, we are “one body.”  St. Paul’s emphasis here is on the unity created by the Holy Spirit.  Let’s consider this for a moment.

Unity is the distinguishing characteristic of the Trinity—three Persons in One.  Man, created in the image and likeness of God, is hard-wired for unity, for communion with both God and others.  Sin shattered this unity (recall the immediate fracture of Adam and Eve’s relationship with God and each other in the Garden).  Babel showed us that when men actually cobble together unity, their pride bends them towards a perverse use of it.  God’s descent on Mt. Sinai was for the purpose of forming one nation for Himself out of many tribes.  He gave them one way to worship and one law to live by.  In time, that nation fractured, and a large part of it completely disappeared.  Men cannot create unity for themselves, although their hearts long for it.  Fittingly, unity in His Church was the one thing for which Jesus prayed as He faced His Passion:  “I…pray…that they may all be one…so that the world may believe that You have sent Me” (Jn 17:20-21).

On Pentecost, God sent His breath to create supernatural unity.  It was experienced immediately among the first converts, and it is a constant manifestation of God’s breath in His Church, 2000 years later.  The life of Jesus in us, the Holy Spirit, holds us in His one Body.  Unity at last—alleluia!

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, forgive me when I rebel against unity—wanting my own way, isolating myself.  Let Your Spirit lead me to the unity for which my heart longs.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Lk 24:46-53)

St. Luke tells us that as Jesus prepares to depart from His disciples and be taken up to heaven, He reminds them that God has always had a plan to save the world.  It was, over the course of centuries, written in the Old Testament Scriptures.  Much of it was fulfilled in Jesus’ time on earth, but not all of it.  What remained was for God to send His Spirit to renew the earth, long promised in passages like Isa 44:3, Ezek 36:26, and Joel 2:28-29.  Jesus had earlier, before His Passion, told the disciples that it would be good for Him to leave them because then He could send the Holy Spirit, the “Counselor,” to them, enabling them to be His witnesses (see Jn 16:17).  It had been the vocation of Israel to be God’s witness to the nations ever since He formed them as His own people.  They were to be a holy nation, a kingdom of priests (see Ex 19:6) to mediate the knowledge of God’s goodness to those who didn’t know Him.  Jesus renews that priestly vocation for His followers, with the specific Good News that “repentance for the forgiveness of sins” could now be preached in His Name to the whole world.  For this work, the disciples would need to “stay in the city until [they were] clothed with power from on high.”

We should recall how often Jesus spoke about things that were yet to happen to His apostles without them understanding what He said.  However, after the Resurrection, their confidence began to build that even what was mysterious or seemingly impossible in Jesus’ words had great significance.  Earlier Jesus had told them that the “Advocate” would come to them as the Spirit of truth.  Now, He tells them that this Spirit is also going to empower them to speak boldly of Him to all who would listen.  As Jews, the apostles would have known of the work of the Spirit in the Old Testament, who fell upon the prophets and made them God’s instruments (see Ezek 2:1-2).  Because Jesus had confirmed all that He had told them about His Death and Resurrection, they could now trust that His promise of the Spirit would most certainly be fulfilled.

The apostles go out to Bethany with Jesus (about two miles east of Jerusalem).  He gives them a priestly blessing before He departs (just as, in the person of the priest, He continues to give us His blessing as we depart from the Mass).  We see something new in their response to Him:  “They did Him homage.”  Before the Resurrection, we never see the apostles worship Jesus.  However, even on the very day of the Resurrection, when Jesus appeared to the women at His tomb, His followers understood that He was now to be worshipped in acknowledgement of His Divinity (see Mt 28:9).  Far from being in despair over Jesus’ disappearance from them, the disciples “returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the Temple praising God.”  They knew the story of Jesus was not over; in some ways, it was just beginning.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, when I doubt You can use me to spread Your kingdom, help me remember that You started with just eleven disciples.

First Reading (Read Acts 1:1-11)

The first verse of this reading tells us that its author, St. Luke, wants to continue a story he began in his “first book,” the Gospel of St. Luke.  That book was devoted to a careful account of “all that Jesus did and taught until the day He was taken up” (Acts 1:1).  This book (Acts) will show us how Jesus could both depart from and yet remain with His followers.  The lesson begins with today’s reading.

We remember that even before His Passion and Resurrection, Jesus promised the apostles that Someone Else was coming.  Now He tells them explicitly not to try to get started on their mission to “all nations” right away.  They must wait for that Someone Else:  “John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 1:5).  The apostles’ first question about this event revealed them to be focused on the wrong thing (again):  “Lord, are You at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6).  It was not unreasonable for the apostles to be curious about the restoration of the kingdom to Israel, as this was a Messianic hope of long-standing for the Jews.  Notice that Jesus doesn’t rebuke them for their interest in David’s kingdom, but rather for their desire to know when it will happen.  Jesus wants them instead to focus on their own work of being His witnesses:  “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be My witnesses in Jerusalem, through Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).  Ironically, this work He gives them will actually bring about the restoration and fulfillment of the kingdom they earnestly seek.  In due time, they will learn that this kingdom, as Jesus had told them earlier, is not of this world.  The kingdom Jesus rules is not ethinc; it is not confined to the borders of Israel.  Through the preaching of the Gospel, Jews of all the tribes of Israel would find their way to it, as would Gentiles.  His kingdom is the universal Church, spread out everywhere, “to the ends of the earth.”

Then, as the apostles were “looking on, He was lifted up, and a cloud took Him from their sight” (Acts 1:9).  What does this mean?  It helps to understand the symbolic significance of the “cloud” Jesus entered.  It reminds us of the Transfiguration, when we get a glimpse of the glorified Jesus.  It reminds us, too, of the “overshadowing” cloud of God’s presence in the worship of the Old Testament Tabernacle, filling the Holy of Holies as God and man met.  That same cloud of God’s presence led the people of Israel to the Promised Land.  As Pope Benedict XVI tells us,

This reference to the cloud is unambiguously theological language.  It represents Jesus’ departure not as a journey to the stars, but as His entry into the mystery of God.  It evokes an entirely different order of magnitude, a different dimension of being… He enters into communion of power and life with the living God, into God’s dominion over space.  Hence, He has not gone away, but now and forever by God’s own power He is present with us and for us.  (Jesus of Nazareth:  Holy Week, Ignatius Press, pgs 282-283, emphasis added)

Now we get it!  Jesus’ departure has only been a departure from our mode of existence.  It is not cosmic but metaphysical.  That is how He can be gone and yet still with us.  In promising the apostles to send the Holy Spirit, He promises not only this new kind of presence with us but also a share in the great power of which He spoke in the Gospel reading.  Did the apostles grasp this?

Not exactly.  We see them staring off into space, probably trying to take it all in.  Two angels caution them against “standing there looking at the sky” (Acts 1:11).  Jesus has ascended into His rightful power and authority, having finished His earthly work for our Redemption.  The apostles will not have to stare at the sky to see Him return in power (the meaning of the “cloud”).  They will see Him return in power very soon—on the Day of Pentecost.

Jesus reigns on His throne now!

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, it is a mystery to me how You can be gone and yet entirely present to me always.  Help me believe it.

Psalm (Read Ps 47:1-2, 5-8)

It is impossible to read through this psalm without wanting to “clap your hands, shout to God with cries of gladness.”  When it was written, it rejoiced over God’s exalted reign over all His creation.  Now, it expresses the jubilant praise of God’s people for the victory won by Jesus and His ascent to His rightful place of power and authority at God’s right hand.  Ascension Sunday is the day for us to celebrate our God’s reign over all creation.  The challenge for us now, of course, is to believe this is true.  When we look around us, sometimes it is hard to see that Jesus, the King, is now establishing, expanding, and strengthening His kingdom on earth.  Believe it!  Let this psalm be our antidote to doubt.  We should sing out the response with all our hearts on this day:  “God mounts His throne to shouts of joy:  a blare of trumpets for the Lord!”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Eph 1:17-23)

Read these verses carefully, and feel St. Paul straining to find language adequate to explain the dramatic, superabundant implications of our Lord’s Ascension into heaven.  This is actually St. Paul’s prayer for his convert friends in Ephesus (and for us, too).  What does he most desire for them?  He wants them to ponder deeply, with the help of God, “the hope that belongs to [God’s] call, what are the riches of His glory in His inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe” (Eph 1:18).  This is exactly what we need on Ascension Day!  We need to feel St. Paul’s urgency over the difference it makes for our daily lives that Jesus is now seated on His throne, ruling over the world through His Church, “which is His Body, the fullness of the One Who fills all things in every way” (Eph 1:23).  St. Paul will not allow us to think of the Ascension as simply a line in the Creed we recite at Mass.  In every way he knows how, he wants to point us toward the hope, the riches, and the power that belong to us now because of the Ascension.  May his prayer for us become our own, for us and for all the Church, today and always.

Possible response:  Father, please grant me the understanding for which St. Paul prayed.  My problems seem much smaller when I remember that Jesus is on His throne.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 14:23-29)

In a long section of St. John’s Gospel that we call “the Last Supper Discourse” (see Jn 13-17), Jesus begins to anticipate His departure from this world and what that will mean for His friends, the apostles.  He emphasizes that to love Him means to live as He taught them.  Those who love Jesus in word and action will live in communion with the Trinity here on earth, even before they reach heaven.

Then, Jesus moves on to describe something that is yet to happen and is of vital importance as we seek to understand how His followers will know what they need to know about Him and His Word after His departure.  How will the Gospel move from this band of apostles and those who traveled with them into all the world?  Once Jesus leaves, how can we know we have the truth about Him and thus be able to live it?

Jesus has a plan to make sure all those who wish to follow Him, in all the years that must pass before His return, will know what they need to know:  “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My Name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.”  If we have read the Gospels carefully, this promise by Jesus has to bring some relief.  We have seen how little they actually understood of what Jesus said and did while He was still with them.  Notice that this promise is made uniquely to the apostles in this conversation.  Jesus switches from speaking about “whoever” (all believers) in vss 23-24 to “you” (the eleven who were with Him at the Last Supper) in vss 25-29.  We can understand by this that although the Holy Spirit will be sent to all believers, He will do a particular work of teaching and reminding the apostles.  Later in this same discourse, Jesus tells the apostles that the Holy Spirit will “guide you into all the truth” (Jn 16:13).  This is an even more expansive promise, because it anticipates that the apostles will, in the future, need to know more than they did on this night.  In all this, the work of the Holy Spirit is of supreme importance.  Jesus knew that He had chosen mere men upon whom to build His Church.  The worldwide proclamation of the Gospel, through all the ages of the Church’s history, would have to come through ordinary flesh and blood.  How could this be anything other than risky?  There is only one way:  a supernatural charism of the Holy Spirit, working in the apostles and their successors, would guarantee “all the truth.”

Because of this magnificent promise, Jesus can leave His apostles with “Peace.”  How is this peace different from what “the world gives”?  Peace in the world depends on circumstances.  The peace of Jesus goes much deeper than that!  His peace grounds us in the truth of God’s love and power, no matter what our circumstances might be.  How can we be sure of this truth?  We look to these promises right here.  The charism given first to the apostles and then passed on through the laying on of hands to their successors enables us to know “all the truth,” expressed now in both Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition.

What an incredible plan!  Did it work?  Our first reading gives us the evidence we need to answer this question.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, please help me love You in ways that go beyond words and emotions.

First Reading (Read Acts 15:1-2, 22-29)

In Christendom, ever since the Reformation, there are Christians who interpret our Gospel reading differently from the Catholic Church.  They believe the Holy Spirit’s charism of teaching, reminding, and guiding into “all the truth” is given to every believer, not just those who are ordained successors to the apostles (the bishops).  Certainly Catholics recognize the way the Holy Spirit teaches and guides us in our individual lives with God.  However, the Church makes a distinction between that universal work of the Holy Spirit and this particular work of revealing “all the truth,” which we understand to be the dogma we must all believe and the way of life we must all live in order to have the fullness of what Jesus intended to give us.  The Church believes this teaching charism is a gift given exclusively to the apostles and those appointed to follow them.

Fortunately, we can look to the Book of Acts for evidence about which interpretation is the most biblical.  St. Luke tells us about the first episode of confusion over truth experienced by the New Testament Church.  In Antioch, where many Gentile pagans converted to Christianity, some Jewish Christians “who had come down from Judea” told the believers that they needed to be circumcised (always a sign of being in covenant with God) in order to be saved.  This caused quite a rift in the Church there, with Paul and Barnabas insisting that circumcision wasn’t necessary.  Which group had “all the truth”?  They were all believers; they all had the Holy Spirit.  The circumcision group had the Old Testament Scriptures on their side (the New Testament didn’t exist yet).  Jesus hadn’t said anything about a situation like this.  How would it be resolved?

“It was decided that Paul, Barnabas, and some of the others should go up to Jerusalem to the apostles and elders about this question” (emphasis added).  Here we see that the Christians in Antioch knew they couldn’t arrive at the truth about circumcision on their own.  They did not expect the Holy Spirit to lead them into “all the truth” on this question.  They did expect that the apostles in Jerusalem could settle it, because Jesus had promised that charism to them.  However, notice that it was not only the apostles but also “the elders” who were called upon to render a decision.  Who were they?  The “elders” (or “bishops”) were those appointed by the apostles to help lead the new Church (see Acts 14:23).  We can see that right away the apostles were passing along their special charism through the laying on of hands (the growing Church would need many more than twelve leaders).  Because the elders, by their ordination, received this gift of truth from the Holy Spirit, they were included in the decision about “all the truth” concering Gentile circumcision.

This meeting of apostles and elders (the Council of Jerusalem), led by Peter, declared that salvation is by grace (see Acts 15:6-11).  They also sent out a letter explaining how Jewish and Christian converts could peacefully coexist without undue provocation of Jewish sensibilities or undue emphasis on Jewish legal requirements.  These pronouncements were for all Christians.  The Council’s ruling prevented a split in the Church, which surely would have happened if individual Christians followed their individual convictions about circumcision of Gentiles.  Some of our non-Catholic brethren will suggest that this apostolic conciliar method of arriving at “all the truth” was only necessary until all the New Testament was written.   Once that was done, according to this way of thinking, the only teaching authority was the Bible itself.  History before the Reformation refutes this, however.  Even when the New Testament had been completed, the question of its interpretation needed to be addressed.  Major dogmas like the Trinity, the Incarnation, and even which books actually were Scripture were all resolved by apostolic conciliar declarations.  There were many good-hearted, devout, holy Christians who had many different ideas about what the words in Scripture actually meant.  It was, in all these dogmatic matters, ultimately up to the bishops of the Church, in union with the Pope, to make a final determination.  History makes this very clear.

So, we see that the New Testament Church understood apostolic authority in the way it has been preserved in the Catholic Church.  If we are looking for “all the truth” in the many dogmatic and moral questions that arise during the course of human history, we will need to look to those who can trace their ordinations back through a succession of hands to the apostles.   Jesus made His promise of the Holy Spirit’s charism of truth to them, and Scripture tells us they passed it on to others.  Today, by that gift, the Voice of Jesus continues to ring out through His Church to the whole world.  The plan worked!

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, thank You for building a Church that will always be able to teach us “all the truth” about life with You.

Psalm (Read Ps 67:2-3, 5-6, 8)

The psalm captures for us the joy that comes to “all nations” when God’s way may “be known upon earth.”  In the Gospel, when Jesus looked out to the future, He saw God’s plan for that to happen through His one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church.  Two thousand years later, we can see its fruit.  Therefore, we want to sing:  “O God, let all the nations praise You!”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rev 21:10-14, 22-23)

Here we see a splendid vision of the Church at the end of time.  Notice how it is built on the foundation of the “twelve apostles of the Lamb.”  It is not built solely on the bible; it is built on twelve fallible human beings who were given the charism of infallible truth to build it.   All the teaching and preaching authority of the Catholic Church rests right there.  The beauty of this vision, written by an apostle to whom the charism of truth through the Holy Spirit had been given (see Rev 1:10), helps us understand why Jesus promised His peace in the Gospel.  The past, the present, and the future all belong to “the Lord God and the Lamb.”  Alleluia!

Possible response:  Heavenly Father, thank You for the splendor that lies ahead for Your people, the Church—You will dwell with us.  Thank You for its foretaste in the Eucharist at every Mass.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 13:31-33a, 34-35)

St. John tells us that after Satan had entered Judas, driving him out into the night to report to Jesus’ enemies (see Jn 13:21-30), the Lord began to speak in an unexpected and baffling way:  “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in Him.”  We know that Judas’ betrayal led to Christ’s Passion–violent brutality, suffering, and a shameful public death.  How could all that be described by Jesus as a glorification of both Him and His Father?

The answer is anticipated in what Jesus says next:  “I give you a new commandment… As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.”  Although Christ’s Passion had the appearance of failure, defeat, and impotence, it was, in fact, a revelation of God’s love for man that far exceeded anything man had ever before or ever will see.  God’s glory was revealed in the total self-emptying of Jesus on the Cross for love of us, doing for us what we are helpless to do for ourselves.  Jesus submitted to great darkness and was thus able to conquer it.  He emptied suffering and death of their sting.  The “glory” of God is that even in the human circumstances that seem most devoid of His presence and care, God is at work to overthrow appearances and reveal His love for sinners in all its brightness and power.

Jesus also spoke about a “new” commandment of love.  The Jews had been taught to love their neighbors as themselves (see Lev 19:18).  What is “new” in Jesus’ teaching is that now God’s people are to love others as Jesus loved us—laying down His life for us, people who don’t deserve it.  The bar has been set much higher!  This kind of supernatural love can only come from Christ living in us.  The presence of this love in us—our willingness to serve others as Jesus served us—will be “how all will know that [we] are [His] disciples.”

When this selfless love becomes the mark of the Church, then “is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in Him.”

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, help me see the small ways that my self-denial out of love today can be a flash of Your glory in this world.

First Reading (Read Acts 14:21-27)

We will better understand this reading if we know its context.  Paul and Barnabas, on a missionary journey, visited a town called Lystra.  There they healed a crippled man.  The people were so amazed by this that they tried to worship the apostles as gods.  Instead, of course, Paul preached the Gospel to them.  However, some Jews who had opposed Paul in other cities he had visited (Antioch and Iconium) followed  him to Lystra and provoked the people there to stone him.  Thinking he was dead, they dragged his body out of the city.  Yet “when the disciples gathered about him, he rose up and entered the city” (see Acts 14:8-20).

Remarkably, this episode gives us a living picture of how the early Church actually fulfilled what Jesus spoke in our Gospel.  Paul and Barnabas faithfully preached the Good News.  Darkness closed in on them, as the Jews stirred up murderous hated.  The violence against Paul was so extreme that his enemies believed they had killed him.  The believers, looking beyond the darkness they saw, very probably prayed for him as they drew near his seemingly lifeless body.  Miraculously, Paul “rose up,” as Jesus had done in His darkness.  Glory!  Then, amazingly, Paul “entered the city” again.  Why would he go back to a place of such hostility against him?  He still wanted to preach and to teach those who had believed in Jesus.  This is the love of the “new” commandment, a self-emptying for the sake of others that is beyond what is naturally possible for man.

In the verses included in our reading, we see Paul continuing on to the next city, and then he returns to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch.  Although all these places were full of danger for him, he wanted to strengthen “the spirits of the disciples and [exhort] them to persevere in the faith, saying, ‘It is necessary to undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.’”  This is the same kind of glory Jesus had described, isn’t it?  Far from being signs of God’s disapproval or indifference, earthly affliction opens the way to heavenly glory (see Mt 5:10; Rom. 8:17).

[Note:  See that Paul and Barnabas “appointed elders for them in each church.”  The Greek expression, “appointed,” means “to stretch forth hands” and alludes to the rite of priestly ordination (see 1 Tim 4:14; Tit 1:5).  This helps us see the hierarchical, not democratic (elected by the laity) authority structure of the infant Church.  This is apostolic succession in action in the New Testament, a succession observed to this day in the Catholic Church.]

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, help me be as fearless as St. Paul in doing Your will, no matter what the cost.

Psalm (Read Ps 145:8-13)

All the psalms in the season of Easter give us an opportunity to sing God’s praises for His lavish, unthinkable love for us, demonstrated so unequivocally in the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus.  In our Gospel, the Lord knew with confidence that the boundless glory of God was about to be revealed to all mankind in His suffering.  He knew the words of this psalm would be appropriate for us:  “Let Your faithful ones bless You.  Let them discourse of the glory of Your kingdom and speak of Your might.”  We must never forget the lesson Jesus taught His disciples at the Last Supper and that He teaches all of us through all the ages:  “The glorious splendor of [God’s] kingdom,” although often veiled now, is indestructible.  Therefore, today we can declare:  “I will praise Your Name for ever, my king and my God.”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rev 21:1-5a)

In our Gospel, we wondered why Jesus started speaking about glory when the power of His enemies was soon to overtake Him.  Here, in St. John’s vision, we can see an explanation.  Jesus knew that in the sacrifice He was willing to make, God’s plan to “make all things new” would begin in earnest, never to be undone.  This beautiful heavenly scene gives us a glimpse of the conclusion of the history of “the former heaven and the former earth,” the time and space in which we now live.  God’s plan is to make His dwelling “with the human race.”  The old order of death, mourning, wailing, and pain will be over.  Jesus knew at the Last Supper that His suffering would be temporary.  St. Paul knew on his missionary journey that his suffering would be temporary.  We, too, must understand this, and St. John’s vision is written down to give us exactly this kind of encouragement (see Rev 21:5b).  The “new Jerusalem,” the Church, is being “prepared as a bride and adorned for her husband.”

We ought never to forget that although in this life we will shed tears, someday God Himself will “wipe every tear from [our] eyes.”  Glory!

Possible response:  Heavenly Father, thank You for Your promise to make all things new.  This is our ray of hope in every darkness.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 10:27-30)

In our very brief Gospel reading, Jesus makes a wonderful promise to shepherd His people into eternal life.  We, “the sheep,” must “hear” and “follow” Him.  These two words magnificently sum up the appropriate human response to the great gift He has won for us through His Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  For our part, we must be willing to think of ourselves as sheep—animals that depend entirely on the good care of a shepherd in order to survive.  If the sheep listen to the voice of their shepherd, a voice they recognize, and follow his instructions, they will find good pasture and be safe from predators.  Jesus uses this metaphor to assure us that we are protected by the Father’s love when we listen to Him, because “no one can take them out of the Father’s hand.”

Does that mean that once we begin hearing the Voice of Jesus, in a dramatic or quiet conversion, we are guaranteed eternal life with Him?  Yes, as long as we remember that we must both “hear” and “follow.”  If a sheep in a shepherd’s flock begins listening to its own voice or the voice of a predator, he leaves the safety and care of the shepherd.  He puts himself in grave danger.

So it is with us.  Ours is the choice to listen to the Voice of Jesus—in His Church, where He makes Himself known in her teachings, worship, and sacraments; in the Scripture; in our consciences—and then to follow.  We, like sheep, can foolishly be led astray.  Our Shepherd will come looking for us, of course.  As soon as we hear and follow Him, repenting of our waywardness, we can once again enjoy the kindness and wisdom of His love and receive the eternal life He wishes to give us.

Why would we ever want to leave our Shepherd’s care?

Possible response:  Father, I know that no one can take me out of Your hand but myself.  Please help me be faithful to my Shepherd.

First Reading (Read Acts 13:14, 43-52)

In this reading, we have an excellent opportunity to see the difference between sheep who listen to the Voice of their Shepherd and those who don’t.  Paul and Barnabas were on a missionary journey, preaching the Gospel first to the Jews, then to the Gentiles throughout the Greco-Roman empire.  In the synagogue in Antioch, a large crowd (“almost the whole city”) had gathered to “hear the word of the Lord.”  How did these people hear the Voice of the Shepherd after His Ascension?  They heard it through the preaching of the Church He built before He left.  The Shepherd’s Voice now comes through human voices.

However, “the Jews saw the crowds [and] were filled with jealousy.”  What causes us to be jealous of others?  We listen to our own voice in our heads—“Why is he getting so much attention?  What’s so great about that guy?  Shouldn’t the crowds be listening to me instead?”  Danger!  When this kind of thinking kicks in, it’s impossible to hear the Shepherd’s Voice.  Look at the results.  The Jews violently contradicted Paul.  He understands that they made a choice to reject the word of God and thus “condemn [themselves] as unworthy of eternal life.”  Jesus has not condemned them.  They have removed themselves from His care; they have chosen not to receive the gift He died to give them.

So, the missionaries preached God’s word to the Gentiles, and they “were delighted… and glorified the word of the Lord.”  They were willing to listen to the Shepherd’s Voice.  They embraced the destiny for which all of us are designed—eternal life.  The Jews were full of anger and violence after listening to their own voices; the disciples, although persecuted, were “filled with joy and the Holy Spirit.”  No wonder Jesus told His followers to “hear” and “follow” Him for safe pasture.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, I am vulnerable to the mistake of listening to my own voice rather than Yours.  Please strengthen me against that.

Psalm (Read Ps 100:1-3, 5)

Because we are thinking of ourselves as sheep in Jesus’ flock, we will find today’s psalm especially helpful in expressing our gratitude to such a Shepherd as He.  To be in His care means we can “sing joyfully” and “serve the Lord with gladness.”  We know that our Shepherd is “good” and that His “kindness endures forever,” right into eternal life.  We know that we were made for Him, and in Him is our true happiness:  “We are His people, the sheep of His flock.”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rev 7:9, 14b-17)

St. John gives us a heavenly vision of God’s flock—all those who have “survived the time of great distress” (the whole history of the world since the Fall, which initiated “the great distress”).  They have found the good pasture Jesus promised those who “hear” and “follow” His Voice.  And look how good it is!  “They will not hunger or thirst anymore, nor will the sun or any heat strike them.”  Why are they so safe?  “For the Lamb who is in the center of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to springs of life-giving water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

May we in God’s flock have the grace to persevere to receive all that Jesus, our Good Shepherd, promises us.

Possible response:  “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” (Ps 23:1)

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 21:1-19)

St. John tells us that an appearance of Jesus at the Sea of Tiberius (also called the Sea of Galilee) was “the third time Jesus was revealed to His disciples after being raised from the dead.”  As is always the case in St. John’s Gospel, there are layers of symbolism in the simple action described.  The disciples have already seen the Risen Lord, but they have not yet been commissioned by Him to make disciples of all nations (see Mt 28:15-20), nor have they received the promised Holy Spirit for the power they will need for this work (see Acts 1:4).  For now, they are still fishermen.  Surely they wondered what would come next.  With time on their hands and a living to earn, they decide to go fishing, which was usually done at night on that sea.

It was a fruitless night of work; they caught nothing.  At dawn, “Jesus was standing on the shore, but the disciples did not realize” that it was Him.  This is a common theme of Jesus’ post-Resurrection appearances.  The apostles have trouble recognizing Him (as we still do in the Eucharist, veiled as He is there).  See that He calls out to them with the term, “Children.”  By this first word of His address to them, He places the meaning of this episode within the context of the Kingdom His Father sent Him to build (recall that He taught the disciples to call God “Our Father” in prayer).  When they tell Him they have caught nothing, He directs them to cast their net in another direction, which results in a huge haul of fish.  Recall that at the outset of Jesus’ call to His disciples, it was a very similar action that drove Peter to his knees in recognition of his sin and Jesus’ holiness (see Lk 5:1-11).  John, who calls himself in this Gospel “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” knows instantly that the Man on the shore (the place of stability, as opposed to the frequent and unpredictable turbulence of the sea) is Jesus.  Peter immediately jumps into the water and swims toward Him, while the others get the boat and the full net back to shore.  Jesus has already set up a charcoal fire and is cooking fish and bread on it, but He wants some of the fish the disciples had caught.  This breakfast, then, is to be a combined effort of Jesus and His friends.  Peter drags up the net with one hundred fifty-three fish in it.  We have to wonder who counted them and why.  It is the kind of detail in St. John’s writing that usually has a deeper meaning.  St. Jerome tells us that at that time, Greek zoologists had counted one hundred fifty-three different kinds of fish.  This suggests that the full net represents the people the disciples would “catch”—all kinds of different people, from all nations, representing the whole of mankind, in the “net” of the Church that won’t break apart under Peter’s handling.

Jesus then cooks the fish and bread and feeds the disciples with it, calling to mind the feeding of the five thousand in Jn 6:1-14, these being the only two meals in the Gospel eaten by the Sea of Galilee and the only two where fish and bread are served.  However, Jesus had more on His mind than feeding His friends as He gathered them around the charcoal fire.  He wants to have a conversation with Peter, who had three times denied Him by the light of a similar fire (see Jn 18:18).  He repented with just one look from Jesus, crying tears of contrition and grief.  Jesus gives Peter three opportunities to confess his love for the Lord Whom he had denied; each confession brings a specific command to Peter to care for the flock entrusted to his care.  Jesus, the Good Shepherd (see Jn 10:1-21; Ezek 34), is about to depart.  We know He established Peter as the rock of the Church, entrusting him with the keys of the kingdom (see Mt 16:19).  By this charcoal fire, three times Jesus assures Peter that his denial has not disqualified him from his work of caring for God’s flock.  Jesus asks him to confess his love for Him, not his potential for heroics.  Peter now knows well his own weakness, and so does Jesus (“Lord, You know everything”).  In meekness and humility, he vows his love and nothing else.  Ironically, although Peter had once foolishly boasted about his willingness to die (see Jn 13:37-38), Jesus now describes the martyr’s death that awaits Peter.  He has learned that martyrdom for the sake of Jesus is a grace given by God, not something to be grasped in man’s own bravado, a difficult but necessary lesson.  Now, when Peter hears the same words he had heard three years earlier from Jesus, “Follow Me” (see Mk 1:17), he knows exactly what they mean.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, help me remember that You seek my love above all else, a love expressed in obedience.

First Reading (Read Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41)

Here we see the apostles in a setting radically different from the seaside in the Gospel.  They had disobeyed orders from the Sanhedrim not to preach in Jesus’ Name.  Peter speaks out boldly to explain their actions:  “We must obey God rather than men.”  He simply declares that they have been witnesses to the miracle of the Resurrection and have no choice but to announce this Good News to the people of Israel, who had long awaited their Messiah, regardless of the consequences.

Ordered again to keep quiet, they were dismissed.  Rather than shrink in fear or flare out in aggression, “they left… rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the Name.”  Although the disciples were not setting out to be heroes—they only wanted to share the glory of the Gospel with others—it was granted them to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and become heroic in their suffering.

For Peter, this time, there was no boasting—only joy.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, help me be willing to be a witness to the miraculous truth I know about You.

Psalm (Read Ps 30:2, 4-6, 11-13)

Here is a song of praise for deliverance from enemies, from the netherworld, from weeping and mourning.  Its words would be appropriate on the lips of Jesus, of course, as well as on the disciples’ lips.  In fact, Jesus and all who trust in Him (people like us) can sing today:  “I will praise You, Lord, for You have rescued me.”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rev 5:11-14)

Here we see Jesus in a setting radically different from the seaside in the Gospel.  St. John tells us of a vision of heaven given to him in which he sees “countless living creatures” crying out to sing praise to “the One Who sits on the throne and to the Lamb.”  This is the Jesus Who now reigns over His Church.  Jesus is conquering all His enemies; He is waiting for the day He will return to this world, finish His work, and celebrate with His Bride, the Church, into eternity.  Before the Sanhedrin, Peter and the apostles had confidence that the scene described here is actually true.  It gave them the courage to obey Jesus’ simple command to follow Him, given to them at the seaside and in every age to all people everywhere through the Church they built.

Will this obedience cost us anything?  Yes, it will, but if we remember that “worthy is the Lamb,” we will only rejoice if we are found worthy in this life to suffer for Him.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, I need to remember this vision of Your glory and victory when my obedience to You costs me having my own way.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 20:19-31)

The celebration of our Lord’s Resurrection on Easter Sunday usually focuses on the sheer ecstasy of His victory over death.  All during Holy Week, we are absorbed with the details of His horrific Passion.  When we reach Easter, our hearts nearly burst with joy that Jesus is alive and vindicated as God’s Son.  In other words, it’s easy to dwell on the fact of the Resurrection and be so dazzled by it that we do not think much beyond that.  The mercy of Divine Mercy Sunday (yes, intended pun) is that now we begin to meditate on the meaning of the Resurrection.  Today’s Gospel gets us started.

When Jesus miraculously appears among the apostles, we find they are locked in a room “for fear of the Jews.”  These fellows have not lately impressed us, have they?  His closest friends (Peter, James, and John) slept instead of keeping watch and praying in Gethsemane.  All the apostles except John fled the Crucifixion, and they were all reluctant to believe the witness of the women to whom Jesus first appeared.  Yet the word Jesus speaks to them is, “Peace.”  Then He commissions them to continue the work the Father sent Him to do.  If the Gospel reading stopped right here, we would still have enough information to knock us over backwards with joy:  Jesus loves sinners!  These men were often feckless and self-absorbed, yet when He goes to them, He gives them peace and joy.  Can any scene in the Gospels demonstrate more clearly than this one the meaning of Easter?

Jesus then does something truly astounding.  “He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.  Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.’”  What??  Are we prepared to see this in the story?  Jesus breathed His own breath on the very people who failed Him in His hour of need.  This action reminds us of God breathing into Adam’s nostrils His own breath at Creation, confirming him in “the image and likeness of God.”  Jesus establishes the apostles as those who will continue His divine work on earth.  In them, God will forgive or retain sin.  What can explain Jesus building a Church that is both human and divine other than the boundless mercy of God?

We find that one of the apostles, Thomas, was missing from this momentous occasion.  When he gets the report of it, he refuses to believe it.  He must see and touch the wounds of Jesus to be convinced.  We don’t know why Thomas doubted the men with whom he’d spent the last three years and who, along with himself, had been chosen as Jesus’ closest intimates.  His refusal to believe makes us uncomfortable, doesn’t it?   His doubt and cynicism don’t seem to come from a good place, yet Jesus appears and gives him precisely what he needs for faith.  Mercy!  This river of mercy is starting to gain momentum.  Jesus then helps us to understand where the river is headed:  “Have you come to believe because you have seen Me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and believed.”  This happy river is coming our way.    It will flow out to everyone, everywhere, in all times.  Those who believe in Jesus without ever seeing Him are going to be swept up in the torrent of God’s mercy for sinners.

If we have been slow on the uptake, St. John puts it all together for us:  “These [signs of the Risen Jesus] are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this belief, you might have life in His Name”.  The meaning of the Resurrection is the triumph of mercy and new life for sinners.  Isn’t this a great Day?

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, I know myself to be as weak, fickle, and hard-hearted as the apostles sometimes were; thank You for the mercy You offered to them and to me.

First Reading (Read Acts 5:12-16)

In the Gospel, Jesus told the apostles, “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you.”  We can see from this reading that He meant what He said.  Many “signs and wonders were done among the people at the hands of the apostles.”  The miracles, of course, led to conversions:  “Yet more than ever, believers in the Lord, great numbers of men and women, were added to them.”  Just as people had sought mercy from Jesus by touching the hem of His garment, so they “carried the sick out into the streets” in the hope that “when Peter came by, at least his shadow might fall on one or another of them.”  As He promised, Jesus continued to do His work on earth through the men He had chosen and commissioned to be His witnesses.  His plan for spreading His mercy to all people through His church worked.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, thank You for two thousand years’ worth of Your mercy pouring into human history through Your Church.

Psalm (Read Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24)

Today, the psalmist simply cannot stop praising the mercy of God.  How appropriate that this should be our liturgical response on Divine Mercy Sunday.   The psalmist explains the cause of his joy in very few words:  “I was hard pressed and was falling, but the Lord helped me.”  Don’t these words describe the plight of all mankind, from Adam to us?  Ever since the Fall, we have staggered and tripped in our sin, completely unable to help ourselves.  Even the apostles, when Jesus most needed them, caved into fear and self-preservation.  Nevertheless, Jesus died for them and for us:  “By the Lord has this been done; it is wonderful in our eyes.”

Of course it is!  That is why our responsorial today calls us to “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love is everlasting.”

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19)

St. John shows us how Jesus’ river of mercy, which flowed immediately to the world through His Church, will not stop there.  St. John writes that he was “on the island of Patmos because I proclaimed God’s word and gave testimony to Jesus.”  He was in exile on a small island used by the Romans as a penal colony for criminals, persecuted as was Jesus.  However, he was “caught up in the spirit on the Lord’s day” and was given a vision of heaven.  In it, he saw “seven gold lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man.”  This is a beautiful reference to the Presence of Jesus in the midst of His Church.  The lampstands probably refer to the “seven churches” to whom John’s vision is addressed (see Rev 1:4).  This appearance of Jesus to John was different from His post-Resurrection appearances, when the apostles were startled and confounded.  This appearance caused John to fall “down at His feet as though dead.”  Yet Jesus’ response to John is so familiar:  “Do not be afraid.”  In His mercy, He desires to give to His Church instruction as it experiences “distress” and is in need of “endurance.”  He wants it written down so that His Church will know that He has all power and authority on earth.  Divine Mercy reveals “what is happening and what will happen afterwards.”  In this revelation, Jesus tells us how our story will end as we struggle to be His people now.  The river of His mercy will flow into eternity, for He is “the first and the last” and is “alive forever and ever.”  Alleluia!

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, help me remember to not be afraid in the distresses we live through in Your Church.  Our future is secure because of You.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Jn 20:1-9)

On Palm Sunday, the narrative of our Lord’s Passion ended with these words:  “The women who had come from Galilee with Him followed behind, and when they had seen the tomb and the way in which his body was laid in it, they returned and prepared spices and perfumed oils.  Then they rested on the Sabbath according to the commandment.” (Lk 23:55-56)  We can only imagine how much “rest” they got on what must have been the longest Sabbath day of their lives.

Today, St. John tells us, “On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark” (Jn 20:1).  Now that the Sabbath was over, she was coming to finish the burial anointing.  Why did she arrive so early, before dawn?  Anyone who has grieved over the death of a loved one knows the answer to this question.  The finality of death, even for those prepared for its arrival, is literally un-believable.  We cannot bear the thought of not seeing this dear one again.  Mary had the opportunity to be near Jesus once more, to see and touch Him.  Even in death, He drew her to Him with an irresistible force.

Mary saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.  Shock!  We can feel her eagerness to be with Jesus again, yet He was not in the tomb.  St. John wants us to see that the followers of Jesus were slow to understand what He had told them many times:  He would rise from the dead.  Mary believed that someone had taken the Lord and put Him elsewhere.  Imagine this for a moment:  profound grief was compounded by profound horror.  For Mary, the empty tomb was not a source of joy.  It was an agonizing twist in what was becoming a nightmare.

Peter and John (“the other disciple whom Jesus loved”) ran to the tomb with Mary’s news.  They, too, were drawn to the Lord in this energetic race.  John arrived first, but notice his deference to Peter, the Lord’s own appointed leader of the apostles.  Once inside, they quickly realized that grave robbers were not responsible for the absence of Jesus.  The burial cloths (fine, expensive linen) would never have been left behind by robbers this way.   No, something big was underway.  St. John tells us that when he entered the tomb and saw the burial cloths, “…he believed” (Jn 20:8).  What did he believe?  Only that Jesus was really gone from the tomb—itself a great mystery.  He goes on to make that clear:  “For they did not yet understand the Scripture that He had to rise from the dead” (Jn 20:9).

So, on Easter Sunday, the Gospel reading leaves us with only clues.  How interesting!  There is not, as we might expect, the boundless joy of the disciples seeing Jesus alive again.  Instead, we spend time with His followers in their longing, anxiety, sadness, and utter confusion.  We, of course, know what’s going on, but they don’t as yet.  St. John wants us to linger for a spell in the very human reactions to an astounding miracle.  He helps us feel deeply the question that boggled the disciples:  What has happened to Jesus?  It is only by entering fully into this human dilemma that we are truly prepared for the answer:  Jesus has conquered Death.  The worst thing that has ever happened in human history (men killed the “Author of life,” Acts 3:15) has become the best thing that has ever happened in human history, and man’s history has been changed forever.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, sometimes I am shocked that You don’t seem to be where I expect You.  Help me believe that what I feel is Your absence will always lead to Your Presence.

First Reading (Read Acts 10:34a, 37-43)

If we think about what we have seen of Peter in the readings for Holy Week, this passage from Acts might leave us asking a question:  What has happened to Peter?  We remember him on Palm Sunday, denying the Lord three times and fleeing when Jesus was crucified.  Today’s Gospel tells us that Mary Magdalene had to go fetch Peter with her news, because he and the other apostles were hiding “for fear of the Jews” (Jn 20:19).  Yet here we see him boldly preaching the Good News (to the same Jews who had terrified him) that death could not hold Jesus.  We see the effects in him of the Resurrection—more clues to its reality.   Peter testifies not only to “Jesus of Nazareth,” Who “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38), but also to the fact that he “ate and drank with Him after He rose from the dead” (Acts 10:41).   The commission he and the other apostles received from the Risen Jesus, confirmed by the anointing of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, turned Peter inside out.  What a transformation from the befuddlement of the empty tomb!  Freed from his cowardice and fear, he wanted the world to know that Jesus is alive and that “everyone who believes in Him will receive forgiveness of sins through His Name” (Acts 10:43).

Possible response:  Lord, this Easter season, please loosen my tongue to bear witness to Your empty tomb and to the meal we still eat and drink with You in the Mass.

Psalm (Read Ps 118:1-2, 16-17, 22-23)

The psalmist announces:  “This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad.”  Great joy like this might make us wonder about its cause:  What has happened to the psalmist?  If we read the entire psalm, we see he describes a time of unthinkable reversal in his life, when he was in terrible distress, and his enemies surrounded him “like bees” that “blazed like a fire of thorns” (Ps 118:12).  He recounts that he was “pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the LORD helped me” (Ps 118:13).  In fact, the LORD’s deliverance sprung him from death:  “I shall not die but live, and declare the works of the LORD” (Ps 118:17).  Yet what really seems to fuel the psalmist’s elation is that “the stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone” (Ps 118:22).  The psalmist’s enemies had rejected him, but God upset their plans to be rid of him, and, instead, set him like a cornerstone, a rock of solid strength.  Now we understand the joy of the psalmist, and why we are using his words to rejoice on Resurrection Sunday.  The reversal he experienced from God’s mighty hand ignited his heart to sing God’s praises on the day of his deliverance and victory.  His words help us re-live this Day the exquisite joy of Jesus’ victory over sin and death, our most feared enemies.  When the meaning of the empty tomb washes over us, we will echo the psalmist’s awe:  “By the LORD has this been done; it is wonderful in our eyes!” (Ps 118:23)

Possible response:  Father, I offer to you all in my life and in the lives of those I love that needs Your work of reversal today.

Second Reading (Read Col 3:1-4)

In his epistle, St. Paul writes a most remarkable exhortation to his Christian friends (and to us):  “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth” (Col 3:2).  Why should we, earthbound creatures that we are, be seeking what is above?  What has happened to us?  St. Paul tells us that the death and Resurrection of Jesus, our focal point all during Holy Week, has happened to us, too.  In baptism, we died with Christ and rose again with Him into a brand new life.  The power that raised Jesus from the dead has seated us with Christ:  “Your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col 3:3).  What a transformation for us!  The empty tomb of the first Easter has reverberated all the way out to us now, in the 21^st century.  Its meaning is not only historical but personal.  In Christ, we are forgiven our sins, released from death, and destined for glory:  “When Christ your life appears, then you will appear with Him in glory” (Col 3:4).  Allelulia!

Possible response:  Father, forgive me when I try to make life on this earth my only goal.  Help me to set my mind on heaven.

By Gayle Somers

Gospel (Read Lk 22:14-23:56)

On Palm Sunday, Catholics all over the globe, in every nation and time zone, in public and sometimes in secret, stand at attention to hear the longest Gospel narrative of the entire liturgical year.  This riveting episode needs no interpretation.  Young and old, male and female, educated and uneducated, sophisticated and simple—all of us are caught up in the story and understand it.  Why is it so universally accessible?  The answer must be because it is a truly human drama, with the kinds of characters, action, plots and subplots, emotions, twists and turns that all of us know.  Who among us has not experienced something of betrayal, fear, humiliation, misrepresentation, powerlessness, malice from others, remorse, and dark foreboding?  This Passion story is not one told in philosophical, theological, or metaphorical language.  No, this story is our story, full of the truths of life that no one ever has to teach us.

Because of its length and density of details, a comprehensive commentary is not possible here (see Jesus of Nazareth:  Holy Week by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI for a truly glorious examination of all the Passion Scriptures).  Still, many of us can be helped to stay attentive (we need help because, alas, we are like the apostles who kept dozing while Jesus agonized in Gethsemane) as it is read at Mass by pondering beforehand several of the story’s most fascinating themes:  isolation, innocence, and irony.

Isolation:  Although Jesus was nearly always surrounded by people in the various Passion scenes, we see how increasingly isolated He became, perhaps most startlingly even when He’s with His friends.  At the Last Supper, although Jesus told the apostles He eagerly “desired to eat this Passover meal with you before I suffer,” they were so unfocused and self-centered that “an argument broke out among them about which of them should be regarded as the greatest.”  How far away from Him they were in their hearts and minds!  Jesus knew this, of course.  When Peter vowed that he was ready to die with the Lord, Jesus warned him that before the morning arrived, he would three times deny even knowing Him.  It wasn’t only Peter, either.  The apostles completely misunderstood Jesus’ instructions about preparing themselves to continue His mission without Him and to be ready for long and arduous spiritual battle.  They thought He wanted them to take up arms and fight for Him with swords.  As He prayed in His agony on the Mount of Olives, His friends could not stay awake with Him.  His betrayal was by one of His own; a kiss that should have meant friendship meant death instead.  When Jesus had to carry His cross to “the place called the Skull,” a stranger, Simon of Cyrene, had to be pressed into service to help Him, so far were His friends from Him.  In death, His isolation was complete.  We know from other Gospel accounts that Jesus felt utterly, completely forsaken.

Innocence:  There is no avoiding the repeated testimonies, from all sorts of people, that Jesus was innocent of any crime.  He was the first to profess it, saying to those who arrested Him, “Have you come out against a robber, with swords and clubs?”  When Pilate interrogated Him, he told the crowd three times, “I found Him guilty of no capital crime.”  Herod, too, acquitted Him.  Even in His dying moments, one of the criminals hanging next to Jesus recognized that “this man has done nothing criminal.”  Finally, a Roman centurion who had “witnessed what had happened” proclaimed, “This man was innocent beyond doubt.”  The Son of God, the Son of Perfect Justice, became the willing victim of supreme injustice.

Irony:  By the time we get to the Passion narratives in the Gospels, we ought to be used to seeing irony (words or events that seem to mean one thing but actually mean something else) aplenty in our salvation story.  We know that Peter believed himself ready to go to prison and die for Jesus.  Yet, as Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI has suggested, it was Peter’s “heroism” that caused his downfall:

“But [Peter] must learn that even martyrdom is no heroic achievement:  rather, it is a grace to be able to suffer for Jesus… His desire to rush in—his heroism—leads to his denial.  In order to secure his place by the fire in the forecourt of the high priest’s palace, and in order to keep abreast of every development in Jesus’ destiny as it happens, he claims not to know Him.  His heroism falls to pieces in a small-minded tactic… He must learn the way of the disciple in order to be led, when his hour comes, to the place where he does not want to go (cf. Jn 21:18) and to receive the grace of martyrdom.” (Jesus of Nazareth, Part II, pg 71-72).

The crowd before Pilate clamored for Barabbas, a rebel murderer, to be freed instead of Jesus.  So, the guilty “son of the father” (the meaning of his name) was set free by the Divine Son of the Father, an ironic playing out of the meaning of the Crucifixion.  Finally, what Herod, the usurper king of the Jews, did in mockery as he put Jesus in “resplendent garb,” and what the Romans, likewise in mockery, wrote on His Cross, “The King of the Jews,” actually presented Jesus to the world as He really is—the true King over a kingdom that can only be gained through humility.  The authorities (those with power) all ridiculed this King; only a dying criminal could see the truth:  “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

As we make our way through Holy Week to the glory of Easter, let us resolve not to isolate Jesus by our lack of focus, our density, or our sloth; to remember that the Innocent One stepped in to redeem us, the guilty; to embrace all the ironies of living the Christian life, as baffling as they can sometimes be.

Possible response:  Lord Jesus, please keep Your eye fixed on me this week.  I have it in me to fail You.

First Reading (Read Isa 50:4-7)

The prophet, Isaiah, because he lived during a time of great covenant unfaithfulness in God’s people (about the 8^th century B.C.), had to deliver dire warnings of coming catastrophe unless the people repented.  He prophesied that judgment would inevitably fall, but Isaiah also spoke of a coming restoration, when their punishment would end, and the people would once again flourish in their land.  Remarkably, Isaiah’s prophecies included detailed descriptions of a Suffering Servant who would play a significant role in this restoration.  Through his innocent, willing suffering, the sin of the people would be forgiven.  Here, of course, we have an astounding Messianic prophecy of Jesus, the Innocent One Who suffered on behalf of all people, making our redemption possible.  There are several “songs” in Isaiah about this Suffering Servant.  Today’s reading highlights the determination of the Servant to stay the course set out for him, regardless of the physical violence and acts of degradation against him.  This prophecy was fulfilled in Jesus, Who “steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem” (Lk 9:51) and quietly endured contemptuous brutality, as we see in the Gospel reading.  Although Jesus wrestled in the Garden with His natural desire to avoid suffering, He rose from His agonized prayer to fulfill Isaiah’s words:  “I have not rebelled, have not turned back” (Isa 50:5).

Possible response:  LORD, I need the courage and perseverance of the Suffering Servant to do Your will when I face opposition.  Please grant me that grace in the Eucharist today.

Psalm (Read Ps 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24)

We can’t read this psalm without being amazed at how accurately it describes some of the details of the Crucifixion.  That is why we understand it as a Messianic psalm, written by David, King of Israel, hundreds of years earlier.  David, like Jesus, was persecuted unjustly.  His enemies wanted to destroy him, and his suffering made him cry out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”  However, in a verse not included in our reading, David acknowledges that God has not forsaken him:  “For He has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; and He has not hid His face from him, but has heard when he cried out to Him” (Ps 22:24).  This is the turning point of the psalm.  David goes on to see a time when he will be restored and be able to “proclaim Your Name to my brethren in the midst of the assembly” (Ps 2:25), even being able to “eat and be satisfied” (Ps 22:26).  In other words, David sees life after his suffering, something wonderful from God on the other side of it that will cause all Israel to “give glory to Him…revere Him” (Ps 22:23).  Is it any wonder, then, that this psalm was on the lips of Jesus as he was dying on the Cross?  The separation from God He experienced as He bore the full weight of all humanity’s sin made Him feel abandoned, as did David, but He had the hope of the psalmist, too:  “Posterity shall serve Him; men shall tell of the LORD to the coming generation, and proclaim His deliverance to a people yet unborn” (Ps 22:30).  We cannot doubt that this psalm, known so well to Jesus, gave Him courage as He drank His cup of suffering to its bitter end.

Possible response:  The psalm is, itself, a response to our other readings.  Read it again prayerfully to make it your own.

Second Reading (Read Phil 2:6-11)

St. Paul gives us a summary of the Incarnation and, with it, a preview of what lies beyond the sober details of today’s Gospel narrative.  Jesus left His glory in heaven to become one of us, yet He became more “us” than we are ourselves!  God made us for obedience to Him, which would enable us to live in His “image and likeness” and be truly happy.  We, however, always choose disobedience, so, on our own, we never really reach who we actually are.  Jesus chose perfect obedience for us, even unto death.  Therefore, God gave Him the Name that will eventually cause every knee to bend and every tongue confess that “Jesus Christ is Lord.”  In all our other readings today, we see the Suffering Servant, stripped of power and glory, the very image of weakness and defeat.  In this epistle, we see King Jesus, exalted and glorified and worthy of praise—the perfect anticipation of the joy of Easter!

Possible response:  King Jesus, help me to believe that the way of humility and obedience is always the path to glory.