Feast of Saint Matthias, Apostle

 Lectionary: 564

Therefore, it is necessary that one of the men who accompanied us the whole time the Lord Jesus came and went among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day on which he was taken up from us, become with us a witness to his resurrection.”

The Lord's disciples, upon returning to Jerusalem and the Upper Room immediately after the Lord's Ascension, first "devoted themselves with one accord to prayer;" and then, under Peter's leadership, addressed the first item of business, replacing Judas of Iscariot. 

There was no impulse to grief about the traitor's death, but there was an immediate concern that another should take his office. There was no question about their scattering; Peter's dissembling was in the past and  they did not hesitate to his leadership. There may have been some concern about the Lord's family. Father Raymond Brown, the great American biblical scholar, suspected that the Lord's family may have made a move toward that leadership but, if there was, Saint Luke dismissed the story as unimportant.

Nor did they consider leaving their number at eleven. Jesus had chosen twelve and so the number must be twelve. Eventually, it became impossible to maintain that structure as the Gospel spread rapidly throughout the Roman empire, and the Lord's disciples faced opposition, martyrdom, and old age. 

But for the moment, they felt compelled to replace Judas. Peter seemed to know how it was done and the others readily agreed. The new twelfth must be one who knew the Lord as well as the others, who remembered precisely what the Lord had taught, his healings and example, the opposition he'd faced, his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension. Of the seventy-two, only two met that criteria. 

The Holy Spirit would choose between the two, and the lot fell to Matthias. "Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also known as Justus" seemed to be a good man, and there was no reason to doubt that; but the Spirit had chosen, and Matthias was the man. The crisis had been addressed and resolved, and the Twelve moved on to address the next problems. 

Very often today, as the Roman Catholic Church, under the leadership of Saint Peter's successor, also faces continual problems, critics raise questions about crises that have been faced and decisions made. We should hear them out. Sometimes we can undo at least some of the harm of bad decisions. But sometimes we have to move on. 

We know who we are, the children of our ancestors. We know our sinfulness and our foolishness like we know theirs; we understand their fears and impulsiveness, and recognize our own. We let the past be past. We trust that our ancestors made the best decisions that could be made under the guidance of the same Holy Spirit. We believe in their integrity. We sometimes we need for information; and so we ask our historians to tell us more about the situation of the time and the forces that shaped important decisions. 

But we do not doubt the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit. We find that Presence there in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, and on every page of our history books. God's Spirit remains with us today and we pray that we will be as compliant and eager to be led by the Lord's Anointed as the Eleven were upon returning to the Upper Room. 

Wednesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 293

"You Athenians, I see that in every respect
you are very religious.
For as I walked around looking carefully at your shrines,
I even discovered an altar inscribed, 'To an Unknown God.'
What therefore you unknowingly worship, I proclaim to you.
The God who made the world and all that is in it,
the Lord of heaven and earth...."

Saint Paul's initial words to the Athenian intelligentsia might have been salted with a bit of sarcasm; Athenian elites were not "very religious." They might have observed the rites and paid their dues in public, when it was necessary; but "the gods" hardly entered their personal concerns or private matters. As we study their mythology today we wonder how anyone could take it seriously. 

The masses of the people, whom the elite sneeringly called hoi polloi, might have been eager to defer to the mysterious powers which made much of life unpredictable; they might have appealed for help to their gods sincerely and with affection. 

But, like any religion, pagan worship was laced with wickedness. Saint Luke describes in some detail the riot of the Ephesian silversmiths when the disciples' healed in the Name of the Lord. They were doing a land office business selling graven images of Astarte. The shrine in Ephesus welcomed pilgrims from the entire Roman empire! 

Elite Athenians, of course, knew better than to worship Astarte but neither would they challenge her devotees. As far as they were concerned, there was no God to worship, love, adore, or obey; so why bother?

Saint Paul did not need to upturn tables like Jesus in the temple when he announced the Son of Mary to the Athenians. He had only to suggest that a crucified man had been raised up, and that he would "judge the world with justice." With that, they snickered, sneered, and left.

He would get the same response were he to announce to Americans, "I see by your Christian nationalism and your mega-churches that you are very religious." They might give him the same amused attention until he offers them the Truth which upends false idols and pretentious images. Americans don't invest energy, time, or money in disappointment, failure, or futility. They don't speak of death unless it's about enemies, criminals, foreigners, and aliens. Sacrifice is never necessary for them; it attracts neither consumers nor investors. 

Catholicism, as Mother Theresa reminded us, does not expect success. We are called to worship God; and to practice our faith with prayerful rituals and charitable works. It is "right and just" that we should stop everything we're doing to pay attention to the Lord who has paid so much for us. It is good when others join us; it is wonderful when they want to join us. But we will love God in either case, for He is worthy of everything we can give Him. 

 

Tuesday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 292

For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you.
But if I go, I will send him to you.
And when he comes he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemnation:
sin, because they do not believe in me; 
righteousness, because I am going to the Father
and you will no longer see me;
condemnation, because the ruler of this world has been condemned.

In the passage above, the Lord describes a process set in motion by his return to the Father. First, He will send the Advocate, whom we know as the Holy Spirit, to us. And when He comes, he will convict the world in regard to sin, righteousness, and condemnation. And then He explains those three convictions. They, with the finality of a courtroom procedure, will condemn the ruler of this world. 

There is, apparently, only one "ruler of this world," and that is Satan. We should also never forget that this world's ruler stands under judgment while we stand under the mercy of God. Those who are called to holiness in the Lord's flock might not recognize the separation but the "ruler of this world" does. It is a chasm which cannot be crossed, spanned, or filled.

We have been set apart by our Baptism, and have grown in holiness as we received the Body and Blood of the Lord. All our sacraments, personal and communal prayers, studies, and good works train us in holiness and make us standout, peculiar, different. If we, like fish in water, do not notice our charism, the world notices. Without it, we are insipid; good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. 

Easter has reminded us that our home is in heaven with the Lord, who "has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers subject to him." (I Peter 3:22) 

From there we pray with Him that the whole world, and our loved ones in particular, will be saved. 

Monday of the Sixth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 291

"When the Advocate comes whom I will send you from the Father,
the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father,
he will testify to me.
And you also testify,
because you have been with me from the beginning.

Rightly we speak of mystery when we talk about the Holy Spirit; or the Trinity, God, and man. (We can't even agree on how we should speak of man, or humanity, or humankind, or them. Whatever it is it's hard to fathom. 

But we know even without words who we are and what we must do, for that One whom Jesus sends from the Father impels us and does not let us loiter in uncertainty. It's only when we try to agree on what we know with words and deeds that confusion comes over us. 

Thank Goodness we are given human authorities whom we can trust to call us together. They are sacramentally ordained and the same faith that God has given us teaches us to work with that Magisterium for the common good. God knows and we know ordained people sin like the rest of us, but the Advocate nonetheless uses them and us and our faith in them to bring about the Kingdom of God. 

I've been reading a sociological account of the Holocaust, and have yet to assimilate everything I've learned by the reading, but I hear the author's urgent warning that for every human authority there must be a willingness to critically understand what is demanded of us and how we should respond. And unquestioning trust in logic and rationality can dismiss even the most basic moral sensibilities. 

As a Christian I understand that I must take up my cross and follow Jesus into the mysterious irrationality of his death. As much as we need authorities, we also need curmudgeons who question everything, and habitually make life difficult for bureaucracies and functionaries. Life should never be as simple as Hitler's vision and Nazi propaganda; nor should we ever trust entirely any political party, religious authority, or charismatic personality. The evil in every person wants only power and has no interest in God's will or God's kingdom. 

Questions always remain; some can be ignored and some cannot be ignored. Some are monkey wrenches thrown into the machinery of our evil ways. 

The Advocate whom Jesus sends us from the Father teaches us when to obey and when to question. That Spirit teaches us to 

...care and not to care. Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death

Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

                    T.S. Eliot, Ash Wednesday

Sixth Sunday of Easter

 Lectionary: 55

I will ask the Father,
and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always,
the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept,
because it neither sees nor knows him.
But you know him, because he remains with you,
and will be in you.

Our first reading today recalls that unexpected moment when the disciples in Jerusalem learned that Samaritans had heard the Gospel of Jesus's passion, death, and resurrection; and were being baptized into faith. The disciples in Jerusalem, many of them recently baptized, wondered how, was it possible that these pseudo-Jews would believe in the Jewish Messiah? There was an ancient hostility between Samaria and Jerusalem. You remember the Samaritan woman's resentment when she said, "...you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.” 

But there they were worshiping Jesus in Samaria and the Apostles could not ignore that. And so, rather than acting out of their old provincial dislike of Samaritans, they recalled the Lord's courageous generosity and open-hearted hospitality to everyone; and sent Peter and John to confirm them in the Holy Spirit. 

As Saint Luke tells the story in the Acts of the Apostles, the Church would later open the same door to non-Jews and to all the world, as Jesus had commanded them,

"...you will receive power when the holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

However, as Jesus also knew and they were rapidly learning, "the ends of the earth" -- that is the nations and their governments -- often resent the coming of the truth, and everyone who dares to speak the truth. The truth often demands our attention and respect. 

He had told them in so many words, 

I will ask the Father,

and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always,

the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept,

because it neither sees nor knows him.

But you know him, because he remains with you,

and will be in you.

The truth comes from God. It is something that human beings can recognize because we are made in the image and likeness of God, but it's also something alien to the cultures and social norms that we create. The truth is often rude and intrusive; or, as former-Vice President Al Gore called it, inconvenient. We are made to hear the truth and, like the Samaritans, we can receive it with joy. But as we realize how demanding it can be, we might first get uneasy, and then uncomfortable And some people get violent. 

Catholics know that because we have to go to confession once a year and we don't like it. The very fact that we have this sacrament and the Church's insistence that we must confess our sins at least once a year, seems downright rude. Who is the Pope to tell me that I have sinned even once in the last twelve months? How does he know that? Tell him, we love him to death but he should stay in Rome! 

But we have sinned and we know it, and so we confess our sins with gratitude for the grace of remorse and the opportunity of penance. Our Catholic readiness to own and confess our sins, and our repentance and atonement give us credibility as witnesses. We are sinners, and we admit it, and we understand why people sin; and we also know our God is merciful, unlike the principalities and authorities who control this world and try to invade our heads. 

Our love of the truth and our obedience to the truth also give testimony to our credibility as disciples of Jesus and witnesses of his resurrection. We have seen amazing things and we tell incredible stories. We understand why people believe that no one can or should rise from the dead; we know and understand why anyone would refuse to eat another's flesh or drink his blood, as we do when we celebrate the Holy Mass. But we have seen the Risen Lord and we have heard his command to eat and drink, and so we obey him. 

We know the Truth, because Truth is our God; that’s his name. This is not a matter of someone's opinion; it is a law as certain as gravity, and sunrise, and death. 

We understand that marriage is hard work, and raising children is not easy; but we know that divorce only makes matters worse, and abortion is an unspeakable crime. And marrying someone of the same sex is a parody of marriage, at best. But we also see and appreciate the astonishing beauty of a life-long marriage, and the blessings that fall upon their children for a thousand generations. 

When we vote for the common good we know that God wants all nations to live in peace and prosperity, and there's more than enough to go around. We can be patriotic toward our respective nations but we cannot be nationalists -- American, German, French, Jewish or Christian. We do not believe that God favors one nation over another. The Gospel became international when first the Samaritans, and then the gentiles heard the story of Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection.

We have the same anxiety and fear as everyone else, but God has told us repeatedly, “Do not be afraid,” and so, out of respect for His command, we dismiss our fears. We have seen: 

"a great multitude of people, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue.... They stand before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands. They cry out in a loud voice: 'Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.'”

And we have found ourselves , unworthy as we are, welcome amid that cloud of witnesses, at home in the communion of saints. 

Saturday of the Fifth Week of Easter

Lectionary: 290

Remember the word I spoke to you, 'No slave is greater than his master.'
If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.
If they kept my word, they will also keep yours.
And they will do all these things to you on account of my name,
because they do not know the one who sent me."

Despite the Lord's insistence that he calls us friends rather than servants or slaves, the New Testament and our spiritual traditions seem to have a predilection for the word slave. Saint Paul, introducing himself to the Romans, called himself "a slave of Christ Jesus." A quick AI search gives us the following list:

• Timothy: Identified with Paul as a slave of Christ in Philippians;
• St. Peter Claver: Known as the "Slave of the Slaves," he declared himself a slave to Christ while serving enslaved Africans in Cartagena;
• St. Louis de Montfort: Championed the concept of total consecration, treating oneself as a slave of Jesus and Mary;
• St. Agatha: Specifically used the phrase "slave of Christ" (famula Christi);
• James & Jude: Identified as slaves of God/Christ in their respective epistles;
• Pope St. Pius X: Used the title Servus Servorum Dei (Slave of the Slaves of God);
• Saint Maximillian Kolbe called himself the "Slave of the Immaculate Conception." 
• and I am sure there are countless others. 

Clearly, this is the attitude every Catholic should take as we consider our responsibilities before God. We act as his hands, feet, eyes, and mouth. We study the Word of God that we might what God is saying to the world, and that we might convey the message as his faithful slaves.

We don't make the rules, we might not enforce the rules, but neither can we be silent about them. The majesty of God impels us to speak. And should we dare to ask, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" or "Why can't I do it my way?" we will count ourselves most blessed if He replies, 

Who is this who darkens counsel

with words of ignorance?

Gird up your loins now, like a man;

I will question you, and you tell me the answers!

Where were you when I founded the earth...? (Job 38:1-4)

Friday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 289

I no longer call you slaves,
because a slave does not know what his master is doing.
I have called you friends,
because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father.
It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you
and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain....

Before the American Civil War, when Northern orators, preachers, and politicians raged against the chattel slavery that persisted in the American south, southerners replied that the factories of the north were filled with "wage slaves," some as young as four or five. There is nothing new or old about slavery; it seems to accompany capitalism like Norwegian rats. Human trafficking persists today in the United States despite our enlightened laws. Slavery in various forms will persist as long as human sin. 

In today's gospel, we have heard Jesus call us friends and insist that we are not his slaves, "because a slave does not know what his master is doing." Clearly, His freedom does not mean being subject to arbitrary impulses, hunches, or feelings. To be fully human is to exercise self-discipline in the service of some principle or goal. 

Jesus knew his purpose, and that was to save us from fear, ignorance, sickness, sin, and death. He intends to restore us to our place before God's throne. His friends are those who are invested in the same cause and incorporated into his identity. We are bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, and blood of his blood. Everyone who belongs to Him takes up his mission.

And that begins with our own freedom. "For freedom Christ set you free!" Saint Paul practically shouted at the Galatians, "...so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery." 

We often hear the American claim of liberty. I remember a Veteran who told me that, although he felt very safe as he walked German city streets late at night, admired their industry, and enjoyed their clean streets and litter-free parks, "they are not as free as Americans." What he meant was they cannot purchase or carry firearms like we do. 

But when I address an American congregation with "The Lord be with you," I notice how many people cannot or do not reply, "And with your spirit." Many do not sing even the most familiar songs like Amazing Grace and Tantum Ergo. They were probably told they cannot sing and should not try; and they believe it. Nor can they clap their hands to the music, much less sway or dance with the rhythm. Many in any American congregation are mute, despite their claim of freedom. 

Freedom is not doing what you want to do and not doing what you don't want to do. It is sharing with the Lord in the work of universal freedom from fear, ignorance, sickness, sin, and death. It is doing as he does, picking up one's cross, and following Him with the same freedom, willing generosity, and joy that he demonstrated in ancient Palestine. 

Freedom is demanding and costly for Jesus and for us. But at its core it is joyful even under the most difficult circumstances. We know that; our experience has proven it. 

Thursday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 288

Peter got up and said to the Apostles and the presbyters,
“My brothers, you are well aware that from early days
God made his choice among you that through my mouth
the Gentiles would hear the word of the Gospel and believe.
And God, who knows the heart,
bore witness by granting them the Holy Spirit just as he did us."

Saint Peter, in today's first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, demonstrates one of the Petrine office's most important responsibilities; and that is to keep the Church together. 

It doesn't matter which group anyone describes, "If there are ten people in the discussion, there are fifteen different opinions." Human beings have opinions and most of us take pride in our opinions; and even when we know this particular idea is neither to the point nor important, we want to express it. Diversity is not and never should be a problem. 

But, more often than not, at some point, we have to agree; because no one can do anything good alone, but anyone can do a lot of harm. To do anything worth doing, we have to work together.

So there was Peter, whom Catholics revere as the first pope and true Vicar of Christ, at the first council of the Catholic Church while they were making a critically important decision: "Should we recognize uncircumcised believers in Christ as fellow Christians?" 

Unlike some of the leaders there, Saint Peter had been outside of Jerusalem, and he had met with, and listened to gentiles who loved the Crucified-Risen Nazarene and believed he is the Savior of the World. The exercise of office often gives leaders wider experience, deeper understanding, and a more intense appreciation of critical issues. 

Everyone may have an opinion but the leader's opinion makes the difference, and everyone is called to settle their differences by setting aside their opinions and coming together. Intransigence in the Church rarely demonstrates the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Pope Leo XIV clearly recognizes his responsibilities as he deals with difficult bishops and cardinals within the Church; and addresses the concerns of Catholics in perilous situations , like those in China. He cannot permit the secular authorities of any nation to decide who will pastor Catholics. The Church must never be an arm of any government, party, or corporation. Christian rulers as well as atheists covet that power! 

But neither can he risk the lives of vulnerable Catholics when he himself is not in danger. Pope Pius XII is still vilified by some people because he did not publicly condemn Hitler and the Nazi regime, although he found ways to save the lives of many Roman Jews. 

Saint Peter knew his responsibility and acted upon it when he said, 

"...you are well aware that from early days God made his choice among you that through my mouth the Gentiles would hear the word of the Gospel and believe." 

God had chosen no one else to make that decision at that moment. He made it; the Church flourished; and has held him in such high esteem that there has never been a Pope Peter II. 

Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 287

Remain in me, as I remain in you.
Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own
unless it remains on the vine,
so neither can you unless you remain in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches.

Anyone reading today's gospel passage might suppose that the Lord insists upon our remaining in him! The word appears only eleven times in the Alleluia verse and the gospel! And He makes the statement both positively, "Remain in me!" and negatively, "If you do not remain in me...." 

He does mean it. This insistence calls for serious reflection. "How can I remain in him? How, and when do I fail or slip away from Him? What can I do to prevent that?" 

The question must be addressed by every self-styled Christian, and by the Church leaders who take their responsibility seriously. The obvious place to start is practice. 

Human beings, because we are given a spiritual nature, have a natural desire, but no instinct for prayer or meditation; and our animal nature makes us very distractible. But God's Holy Spirit (grace) calls our animal nature to attention; we must watch not only the ground beneath us. We must also see the heavens above us; and everything which comprises our world. 

We remain in this world, as the Lord says, even as we remain in Him: 

"I do not ask that you take them out of the world but that you keep them from the evil one."

Because He intends that we remain here, we know there is as much purpose in our remaining as there was in his being with us in Galilee and Jerusalem. We belong here in this time; and probably, in this place. 

But, as He also knew so well, there are as many who oppose our being here as there who wanted him gone. They hung him on a tree, suspended above the ground, as if demanding that God take him from the earth. 

However, when we saw him on that same tree, we could not resist our desire to look up to him. We were drawn like iron to a magnet by his intense love for us. And then we came to him and there we remain. 

I often hear people complaining about the news of violence and war. It is happening abroad and at home, and within many homes. I urge the same people to spend as much time in prayer as they do listening to the news. The 24-hour news cycles are worse than useless; they repeat themselves endlessly as if we are stupid sheep or insensitive cows. And the more we listen the more we  become stupid and insensitive. 

We must abide in the Lord deliberately and attentively. We must notice how our hearts burn within us as we walk with him and listen to him. We must hear his reading of our history, and recognize how He has always been with us, and never neglected or abandoned us. As we study the historical documents of our scriptures we come to recognize him on every page of our history. It is He who leads us, calls us, and leads us into eternity. 

Catholicism provides us with daily Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours, and innumerable books, websites, and magazines for prayer and contemplation. There is a cloud of witnesses, living yet among us and passed into eternity, with more saints than anyone can count; we should study their lives, become acquainted with them, and ask for their friendship, prayers, and guidance. There's hardly time enough in a day to keep up with all that is offered for our deliverance out of this 24/7 mess!

The Spirit is willing; the flesh must get with it. 

 

Tuesday of Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 286

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.
Not as the world gives do I give it to you.
Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.

Our scriptures often speak of peace; it is a promise given to God's holy people; and we pray that we may be found worthy to abide in that peace. 

Peace may be America's second most popular word, after freedom. Certainly the latter is invoked whenever we must disturb the peace that the world gives. In that case, peace may mean security and prosperity; and freedom is the ability to do as I please without the interference of others. 

But others often disturb our peace and stand in the way of our security. If they can be removed, neutralized, controlled, rendered harmless, or made to think, speak, act and look like us, we'll be assured of both freedom and peace.  

But peace with others who do not assimilate? Now that's a problem. Or, it's a peace the world cannot give, as in Shalom. It's unimaginable. Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what that kind of peace might look or feel like. 

But our faith not only insists that we  live peacefully with others; it also demands that we strive to enter through that narrow gate. It's the only kind of peace that God gives us. Faith insists that faith is believing in others; in their words, actions, attitudes, and intentions, insofar as we are able. It's a limited ability which is stretched only with practice, trial, error, and more trust. the foundation of that peace is found in our Trinitarian God. 

The Shoah began with people who did not assimilate in European society; or not enough to satisfy their passion for conformity. Jews were -- and remain -- a nationality without a nation, and a religion which is neither Christian nor pagan. Despite their speaking the vernacular language of wherever they lived, and wearing the same clothes, the Jews seem to fit no category, and are never quite assimilated. They dwell in every part of the world and persist through every century. The Shoah was a final solution, an attempt to rid the world of otherness. 

However, Jews persist because they are God's chosen people, and God does not go away. God is also other to us, although he is as human being as any one of us. In fact, as Christians understand our doctrine of the Holy Trinity, otherness is one of God's characteristics. The three persons of the Trinity are of one mind and heart, but they are not each other.  

Mankind's continual wars betray its unwillingness to live in God's world with others, and the threat of universal annihilation grows with each passing year. There is only one answer: 

"Peace," Shalom, "I leave with you; my peace I give to you.
Not as the world gives do I give it to you.
Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid."

Monday of the Fifth Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 285

“Whoever loves me will keep my word,
and my Father will love him,
and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.
Whoever does not love me does not keep my words;
yet the word you hear is not mine
but that of the Father who sent me.

Reading the Gospel according to Saint John is never as simple as reading a novel,  a newspaper, or even an op-ed. The Lord's words seem cryptic at first; and certainly require patient pondering to become clear. 

Nor do I find the reading made any simpler by our lectionary's leapfrogging from chapter 12 to chapter 14, verse 21. It's dizzying. But, looking back, we see that we are somewhat familiar with: 

• the Lord's washing the feet of his disciples; 
• his assurance that, If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it;" 
• “If you love me, you will keep my commandments." and 
• "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth."
• Whew! That's a lot!

In any case, here we are at verse 14: “Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me."

Gerard Manley Hopkins, a devout Jesuit and one of England's finest poets, translate the prayer of Saint Francis Xavier:

O DEUS EGO AMO TE by Gerard Manley Hopkins (Public Domain)

O God, I love thee, I love thee-

Not out of hope of heaven for me

Nor fearing not to love and be

     In the everlasting burning.

Thou, thou, my Jesus, after me

     Didst reach thine arms out dying,

For my sake sufferedst nails, and lance,

Mocked and marred countenance,

     Sorrows passing number,

     Sweat and care and cumber,

Yea and death, and this for me,

     And thou couldst see me sinning:

Then I, why should not I love thee,

Jesu, so much in love with me?

Not for heaven's sake; not to be

Out of hell by loving thee;

Not for any gains I see;

But just the way that thou didst me

I do love and I will love thee:

What must I love thee, Lord, for then?

For being my king and God. Amen.

The prayer, fervently prayed, perhaps proves nothing. But read devoutly it expresses our fervent hope that God the Father will look on us through the affectionate eyes of Jesus and receive us into paradise. 

Fifth Sunday of Easter

 Lectionary: 52

Where I am going you know the way."
Thomas said to him,
"Master, we do not know where you are going;
how can we know the way?"
Jesus said to him, I am the way and the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father except through me."

When  a president of the United States wants to put his own face on American currency; some of us wonder where this is going. Similarly, the Lord's disciples wondered how soon Jesus might arrive at his full stature as Messiah of the Jewish people and Lord Emperor of all nations. His assurance, as usual, was "Trust me." 

Throughout the Gospel according to Saint John, the Lord continually demanded that his disciples, the crowds, and his opponents believe in him. He provided signs to show that God his Father had approved and endorsed him, although the signs were never quite as overwhelming as we might prefer. He changed water into wine but only the servants knew about it. He told the Samaritan woman that she'd had five husbands and was living with another one, who was not her husband. Now how did he know that? 

He reminded Nicodemus that the Spirit of God blows where it will; it doesn't take a great theologian to figure that out. He healed several sick persons; but some of them might have recovered anyway. He predicted that Lazarus' apparent death was only sleep, and then, as if waking him up, called him out of the grave although he'd been buried four days before. Now That was Something; but a lot of people were not impressed. 

And through it all, from the day he stirred up a one-man riot in the temple until he stood before Pontius Pilate and said, "My kingdom is not of this world." Jesus insisted that we should trust Him and believe that what he said would come to pass. 

During his last supper, the Apostle Philip made one final request, which no one would think unreasonable, "Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us." And Jesus replied with exasperation, 

"Have I been with you for so long a time

and you still do not know me, Philip?

Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.

How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?

Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?

Beginning with the Enlightenment, somewhere in the late 17th century, the western world began to prefer the human sciences to God's Word, Jesus, and the Church. Our distaste for medical research conducted on cadavers, some pre-scientific ideas about cosmology, and some stories in the Bible like Noah’s Ark and the Great Flood, made God’s Word and our beliefs seem out-dated and frankly useless. 

When 19th century scientists acted as if they, their facts, and their theories were infallible, only some Catholics were persuaded when Pope Pius IX replied by calling himself infallible. However, when 20th century scientists backed away from their infallibility, the Church was left with an infallible Pope, and none too sure what it means or how to respond to it. The world was moving on without the leadership and authority of the Church.  

But we still believe in Jesus. We believe that he came from and returned to God his Father, that he has been raised from the dead, and that he remains with us forever in the Church and the Eucharist. We also believe in the spiritual authority God has given to His Church, especially as we find the world insisting on their right to abort babies, execute trapped, defenseless criminals, and mangle the human body to fit popular fads. 

And we share the world's post-modern skepticism about human knowledge in general. In this 20th century we saw too many sciences like phrenology, eugenics, and racism discredited. In the name of eugenics the Nazis murdered somewhere between eleven and seventeen million non-combatant souls: Jews, little people, disabled, homosexual, Jehovah's Witness, Catholics, gypsies, and so forth. Not to mention the casualties of endless wars that came with the Enlightenment. 

Religious people in general -- Jews, Muslims, Catholics, and Protestants -- are not overwhelmed by the ideologies of the Enlightened age -- from Marxist communism, to socialism, feminism, and transgenderism. When we're told that religious wars killed a lot of people in 17th century Europe, we remember the Napoleonic wars which killed as many as six million people between 1803 and 1815. The United States has never engaged in a religious war but our patriotic wars have cost the lives of millions of soldiers, sailors, flyers, and civilians. 

We use the sciences; we listen respectfully to ideologies, we understand that wars will never cease in this world, but we believe in Jesus Christ. And we strive to live by the standards of decencies and reverence which He, through the Holy Spirit and the Church, still teaches us today. We believe with all the more intensity and personal conviction that he remains with us – each and every one of us – to this day. In the prayers of the Church, the Most Blessed Sacrament, and our personal lives, we feel his presence. We recognize the Voice of the Good Shepherd. We believe that God hears our prayers not because we’re especially good people but because we pray in the name of Jesus. We have his personal assurance. 

When the Lord insisted that we believe in Him he also taught us to believe in ourselves in the face of a world which discounts, ignores, and tries to manipulate every one of our thoughts, words, and deeds. They don’t need slaves anymore; they want users, consumers, and heroes to admire prettiest images and believe that images are truth, goodness, and beauty.

We have heard the Lord say, and we believe, he is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Our life begins in his life. Our love – whether it be for spouses, family, or neighbors – begins in his love. Because we love God with all our hearts, souls, mind, and strength, we can love others as he has loved us. We do unto our neighbors as we would have them do to us, which is kindly, with generosity, compassion, and restraint. Always, our passion is for God. 

We believe in the One who said, “Trust me.” Our faith in Him has sustained us through many centuries. We have known doubt and fear, but he has always come back to us, and always drawn us to himself. For He remains, even in the 21st century, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.