Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 14, 2023

Jesus will always be with us; if we truly love Jesus, we will act like it…

John 14: 15–21

“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, which the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows it. But you know it, because it remains with you, and will be in you.

I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.

In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me, because I live and you will live.

On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.

Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me. And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him.”

Music Meditations

• Ubi Caritas—Taize
• If Ye Love Me—Cambridge Singers (Composer is John Rutter)
• Come My Way, My Truth, My Life—Ralph Vaughan Williams
• Love Has Come—Matt Maher, posted by Emily Pietro
• A Prayer of Saint Patrick—written by John Rutter

Opening Prayer

Lord, I need not rely on my own resources if I turn to you who promises to help me, ready to send your Holy Spirit. Open my eyes and heart to recognize your Spirit working within me, sustaining me. Allow me to see your Spirit working within those around me, and free me from judgment about how they individually respond to that Spirit. Help me to understand what it means to keep your great commandment to “love others as I love myself”.

Companions for the Journey

From ‘First Impressions’, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Jesus is about to pass to God and he is concerned for the disciples’ well- being; how will they get along without him? In addition, they are in need of consolation in the light of what he is telling them about his departure. They won’t have him with them in the same way; he won’t be there when they need encouragement, prodding, advice or comfort during difficult times. Today’s gospel is part of his farewell speech and reflects his awareness of what is about to happen to him and his concern for those he is leaving behind. This is his last will and testament and he wants to leave them something of great value; but not an inheritance that will rust, wear out, get stolen, cause a squabble, or be irrelevant for future generations of believers. He wants, in a manner of speaking, to leave his descendants the family jewel, the pearl of great price, the unfailing treasure. He is like the parent providing for the children’s future well- being; he is giving them something that will remind them of him, help them to grow together, but also get them through difficult times

First, he instructs them: “keep my commandments.” That will be the memorial they will raise in his honor after he is gone—not a tombstone, granite monument, wall mural or triumphant arch. Not even a grand cathedral can be as eloquent a testimony of our love for him. Very simply, before they set about forming a building committee, he wants them to show reverence for him by keeping his commandments. Which commandments? Let’s do a little background and then approach this question.

Some have a rather harsh image of God. They envision a distant God, ruling over everything and everyone from an on-high vantage. This God is a ruler and tester, expecting us to live up to a set of regulations and requiring us to pass the “final exam” which weighs our accomplishments against our transgressions. In this perception, Jesus’ role was crucial: to go before God and assuage God’s anger over our sins. God was deeply offended by our sin and Jesus was our Advocate before a fearsome God. We needed him to get us on the straight and narrow and die to appease an angry God. God and the Son are kind of like a “good cop, bad cop” duo. Jesus is our “good cop” persuading us in a nice tone of voice to change our lives. If we don’t, we get the “bad cop” who will shout, pound the desk, threaten us with punishment and scare us to reform. In this perspective of our situation before God, the Advocate is seen as our ongoing intercessor before the throne of God. In other words, the Advocate becomes our next lawyer after Jesus leaves, our defense attorney before the throne of the Judge. Scratch the surface and we will find that in the way some speak about God and how they pray—a lot of people in our congregations still hold these notions of God. Another perspective is necessary, one that fulfills the hope Jesus has for us in the gospel, especially in this last discourse section in John’s gospel (chapters 14-17). There he promises to take us to a place of intimate union with God.

Maybe we need the Advocate, not to argue our case to God, but to argue God’s case to us. The Advocate Jesus will send his followers, will intercede on God’s behalf and remind us of God’s love for us and help us live Jesus’ way of love for others. The Advocate will persuade us and enable us to do what Jesus tells his disciples, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Jesus’ commandments are about love; we are asked to love as he loved. At the table he had just demonstrated this love by his washing the disciples’ feet; he will further demonstrate his self-giving love the next day by giving his life on their behalf. Such love will require an enormous bigness of spirit and persevering commitment.

These days, battered and struggling, we pray for the healing of all those harmed by the sickness and crimes of our past and present. We pray too in this breaking-open- time that we have the courage to face the truth and make whatever changes we must make in our society and in our church. We are encouraged this day in Jesus’ promise that we are not left as orphans. We need a loving and strong parental hand to guide us on our path to become the community that faithfully reflects Christ’s loving and caring presence in the world.

In almost every verse of today’s gospel passage Jesus assures us that we will not be left on our own—“another Advocate to be with you always”...”You are in me and I in you”... “reveal myself to him/her.” Jesus is just like a mother giving last orders to her children before she leaves the house (“no fighting, go to bed on time, wash your dishes, not too much television, do your homework, etc.”). A person’s last words before parting usually sum up the essentials. These are Jesus’ last words and he repeats himself because he wants to make a point, “No matter how bad it gets or how severely you mess up remember, I will not abandon you.”

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Describe a time in your life when you felt “orphaned”—left out or abandoned by friends or loved ones, or maybe even a colleague or professor.
• What, in our society, writ large, creates a sense of abandonment?
  Is there anything in my current life right now that makes me feel abandoned and alone?
  Is this a time to pray?
• What in our present world, cannot accept the “Spirit of Truth”?
  What has to happen for this to change?
  What in myself do I have to change?
• Jesus said: “Because I live, you also will live.” Do I believe this?
• Do I find Jesus’ love for me in the love of others?
• Jesus, in his last discourse to his beloved disciples, promised to send his Spirit—also known as the Paraclete, which could be translated as comforter, advocate, counselor, helper. (Paraclete is never translated as a bird; I’m just sayin’). Which of those translations of the term Paraclete speaks to me the most?
• Paul never met Jesus, yet he felt the strong presence of the Spirit of Jesus within him, which made his extraordinary missionary work possible. How do I access the Spirit of God within me?
• Have you ever felt the presence of God in. your life, assuring you that you are not alone?
  What signs around you help you to be aware of God’s presence in your life?
• Is it ever too late to recognize the presence of God in my life?
• Do I have hope?
  Can I explain why I do so?
  What voices and motivations in my life keep me from hearing the voice of your Spirit within me?
• What is my motivation for living as I should—fear of God, or love of God? What is the difference?
• Do you read a difference between the phrase “Keep the Commandments”, and the Phrase “Keep my commandments”?? If so, how would you list the commandments in each category?
• Which of Jesus’ commandments is the hardest for you? Which is the easiest?
• What would qualify a person as a “real Christian?”
  What daily practices would they have to observe?
  What basic knowledge must they have?
  Does keeping Jesus’ commandments mean the absence of bad behavior or something more?
• Father Paul O’Reilly, S.J., once wrote: “Love is not in words; it is in actions”. Do you agree?
  How does that impact your understanding of the commandments we are to keep?
• The reverend William Sloane Coffin once said: “If we fail in love, we fail in all things.” Do I agree or disagree?
  In what ways did I love today?
  In what ways did I not love today?
  What can I do about the “not loving” part?
• For John, faith is to be in a loving relationship with Jesus. What is my understanding of faith?
• What is the role of prayer in my personal life?
  What is the role of guilt in my personal life?
  What is the role of “doing” Jesus’ commandments in my personal life?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Adapted from “First Impressions”:

Jesus isn’t speaking about how we feel towards others. How could he command us to “feel” love for another? How could we maintain such a feeling for those we barely know; people not in our family? It’s a lifetime effort to act lovingly towards those we do feel love for, so how could we possibly have and convey those feelings toward others who are strangers? Even enemies? Jesus’ teaching is not merely about liking a person. Rather, he wants us to make an act of our will and do what is for another’s good. It’s not about liking everyone because, I don’t know about you, I don’t! How can we mere humans, who have a mental list of those we love, those we like, and those we dislike, ever live up to Jesus’ commandment of love? We already know the answer to that: on our own, we can’t. But Jesus makes some promises to us today that make what he asks of us possible. Jesus is soon to depart, but the Spirit he sends back will never leave us on our own, “I will not leave you orphans.” How often do I, in my personal prayer life, address myself to the Spirit, who is with me always?

Towards whom, in my life, do I find it difficult to act lovingly? How do I continue to love this person as Jesus would? Have I ever called out to Jesus for help and in my heart felt the presence of his Spirit standing with me, to help me be the kind of loving person I am called to be? I pray in thanksgiving for those moments of comfort and strength.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from “Sacred Space” 2023, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

I imagine Jesus sitting with me here where I am at the moment, I see him looking at me with love and I hear him saying to me: “I give you peace”. How do I feel? Where in my life do I need the peace of Jesus at the moment? Can I talk honestly now to Jesus about my need for peace in relationships, work, or just in my own heart?

“I give you peace”. I sit with Jesus for a while, allowing these words to sink into my heart.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I read Luke 8: 22-25 (Jesus calms the storm). In this story, Jesus has been standing in a boat to teach the crowds because there are so many people along the shore of the lake who have come to see and hear him. I imagine how tired Jesus must be after trying to come up with parables to explain his message and then projecting his voice for several hours to so many people. Then I imagine that I am one of the disciples to whom he gives orders to go to the other side of the lake. As I start rowing, what does Jesus do? I try to picture the size of the boat, the look of the sky above as the storm blows in. I imagine the sound and feel of the wind, the waves, the water coming inside the boat. Is the water cold? Am I wet? Afraid? What is Jesus doing now? Why do I wake him? Am I afraid we will drown if the boat goes down? Do I want him awake to share my fear? Do I think he can do anything to help? What does Jesus do when he is awakened? Am I surprised? How do I feel when he turns to me and asks why I am frightened? What kind of faith did he expect me to have? I reflect on the times I have been in a panic and turned to God—did I think God would ignore my well-being unless I begged for help? Did I ever stop to consider that God is watching out for me always, whether I know it or not?

Poetic Reflection:

Janet Lewis, in The Dear Past, looked to The Last of the Mohicans as inspiration for a prayer of trust when we are spiritually, physically or emotionally lost. See if it somehow reflects the thoughts of today’s readings:

“Four Hymns”

Let us lift up our grateful Hearts to Thee
Who are the light of all who strangely roam.
Thy rod, thy staff, shall ever comfort be,
Thy love shall never fail to guide us home.

In our own hearts we find a wilderness,
lurking despair and hidden cruelty;
From mindless fear, from blind revengefulness
Shield us so that we may come unharmed to thee.

Lord God, who art the sum
of mercy and of love,
Though we are far from home,
And lost the way thereof,
Let us not blindly roam
But to thy kingdom come.

All loving God, in my most deep despair,
As I am Thine, receive my trembling soul.
For in Thy will, in Thy will only rest
Hope and salvation and acceptance blest.

Closing Prayer

Lord, the peace that I seek is not necessarily freedom from care, although that would be nice. The peace you give is the ability to face uncertainty, disappointment, failure and sorrow without the overwhelming fear that all is lost. Strengthen me in adversity and in joy so that I may live in your love through attention to and fulfillment of your command to love unconditionally. I pray that others may experience your presence and comfort when they are facing adversity or loss. May I be a presence and comfort to them as your representative on this earth.

Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 7, 2023

Jesus asks us to trust in God and trust in Him

John 14: 1–12

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.

In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.

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.

If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

Philip said to him, “Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us.”

Jesus said to him, “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? The words that I speak to you I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me is doing his works.

Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else, believe because of the works themselves.

Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father.”

Music Meditations

• Let Your Restless Heart Be Still—Catholic Community at Stanford Choir (this is gorgeous, folks!) on YouTube video/slideshow
• On Eagle’s Wings—John Michael Talbot
• Lord I Need You—Matt Maher
• Hymn of St. Patrick—Dwight Beal or Jean Watson

Opening Prayer

From Thomas Merton in The Sign of Jonas:

You have made my soul for Your peace and Your silence, but it is lacerated by the noise of my activity and my desires… But I was created for Your peace and you will not despise my longing for the holiness of Your deep silence, O my Lord, you will not leave me forever in this sorrow because I have trusted in You and I will wait upon Your good pleasure in peace and without complaining any more. This, for Your glory.

Companions for the Journey

By Jude Siciliano, O.P. From “First Impressions,” a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Jesus is addressing his disciples; it is his Last Discourse. His tone and words convey a calm before the storm. Jesus is reflective, concerned and gentle as he instructs his disciples for the last time. He must give both them and the future community (us) courage for what is immediately going to happen to them. He is like a parent who soothes the anxiety of his/her children by telling them, “There, there, everything is going to be alright.” What is going to happen to him will be painful, but in the long run, it will be for their benefit, for he goes to prepare a place for them. “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”

I have often read this passage at the bed of a dying person or a funeral. It is very comforting to hear Jesus’ promise of a dwelling place for his disciples. A place with God is awaiting us and the knowledge of that place of security with God is both comforting and encouraging. But in the theology of John’s gospel, what is promised and waiting for us—has already begun. If Jesus has prepared a dwelling place for us, it is available to us now. His disciples do not live detached from the world, but are touched by it and face its challenges daily. We try to be a sign of Christ in a world that is tumultuous and often feels like a foreign land. Each of us has a special calling to live our unique lives in our family, job, school, and service to those in need. No two of us live in exactly the same way and so no two “dwelling places” are the same, for each of us has a special share in God’s life. “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.” Though we face confusion, ambiguity, struggle and challenge to our faith, we still dwell and share life with the divine. Jesus has not left us orphans on our own. By his death, resurrection and breathing of the Holy Spirit on us, Jesus has, in a manner of speaking, moved over and made room for us in God.

Jesus’ promise speaks to the itinerants among us—and we are all itinerants who have stopping-off places at various moments on life’s journey. We first live our lives with our parents, then we set out on our own. Many “stopping-off places” follow: we start a career or go to college, marry, have children, work out relationships, face the challenges of sickness and old age. Each stage of our lives we carry much with us that life has given; both in blessing and injury. But each new moment also offers us another “dwelling place” where we experience the life of God for us and in which we receive help as we strive to live the “way” Jesus taught us. (“I am the way and the truth and the life.”) There are no guarantees in life—except that as we move through the changing landscape, we do so in Jesus’ assurance that we dwell with God. Jesus has gone ahead so that he can come back and take us to God—now.

Like the disciples, we too can feel left behind trying to figure out the mess we are in and the seeming absence of God. These words of Jesus today assure us that God is not just up ahead waiting for us. We already dwell with God. That much is secure in our unstable world. In addition, anything we undertake to right the wrongs of our world, we do with the faith that God is up close to us—dwelling with us.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Do not let your hearts be troubled

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• How does this gospel speak to these stressful times?
• Is it a demonstration of lack of faith if we are “deeply troubled” about things?
  Was Jesus ever “deeply troubled”?
• Do I believe that Jesus understands my confusion and anxiety about the future?
• A return to the Father does not happen at death; it happens now if we align ourselves to the will of God. Do I look on this gospel text as more about life after death or more about life here and now?
  What do I think of when I read the phrase “my father’s house”?
  Is it heaven?
  Is it anywhere God is present?
• Some have suggested that this gospel, which says “I will come back again and take you to myself” not only applies to the second coming of Jesus (Parousia), but also the coming of Jesus for us personally when we die. What do you think?
• This passage is calling us to a radical trust in the goodness and love of God. How hard is this?
  Has anyone ever betrayed your trust in him or her?
  How does that affect your trust in God?
• Do I see Jesus as the face of God, or do I see God as something quite different—a judge, maybe?
• Jesus says that if we believe in him, we will do the works that he does. What are those works?
  How can we complete those works, since we do not possess His power or His goodness?
  How does the Spirit fit into this consideration?
• Do I ever feel like Thomas: “We do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?”
  Does Jesus’ answer to Thomas comfort or challenge me?
• One commentator suggested that Philip’s problem was not that he did not know the Father, but that he had not realized that he knew the Father because he knew Jesus. What do you think?
  What then does Jesus show me about the Father?
• Has there ever been a time when someone trusted you to help him or her and you came through?
• Describe a situation in which you trusted in the Lord. What did you expect to happen?
  How did it turn out?
• Was there ever a time when you prayed for a certain outcome and it did not happen that way?
  How did you feel?
  What was the final outcome?
  What did you learn?
• From Father John Harrington, S.J.:
  How do you try to keep Jesus’ memory alive?
  How might the church today be more effective in keeping Jesus alive?
• From “First Impressions” 2023:
  Thomas said to Jesus, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” Jesus invites his disciples to come to him and put their lives into his hands. We do that by living in relationship with him, listening to his teaching and following his way. In my daily life, in what ways am I choosing Jesus as “my way”?
  What other “ways” am I tempted to choose?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Adapted from First Impressions, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Thomas wants to know the traveling directions to where Jesus is going, “how can we know the way?” But Jesus is using “way” to mean his way of living. Jesus has, as he promised, returned to God, and has been “glorified.” He chose the way to God through suffering and death. The way others have rejected, Jesus chose as his and he invites his disciples to follow. His is the way of giving and sacrifice and because of what he did and who he is, we too can live his “way” to the Father. Believing in him and his way assures us that, in some real sense, we have already arrived into God’s presence. And Jesus has told us that where he is going, we already know the way. How would you define the “way” of Jesus in this present life we are living? What concrete actions can I take this coming week to try to follow the “way” of Jesus?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

From Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, by Thomas Merton:

One thing above all is important: “the return to the Father”. The Son came into the world and died for us, rose and ascended to the Father; sent us His Spirit, that in Him and with Him we might return to the Father. To “return to the Father” is not to “go back” in time, to roll up the scroll of history, or to reverse anything…. It is a going forward, a going beyond, for merely to retrace one’s streps would be a vanity on top of vanity, a renewal of the same absurdity in reverse.

Our destiny is to go on beyond everything, to leave everything, to press forward to the End and find in the End our Beginning, the ever-new beginning that has no end. To obey him on the way , in order to reach Him in Whom I have begun who is the key and the end—because He is the beginning.

Like the Jesus as portrayed in John’s gospel, Merton seems to be approaching the mystical in this passage as he encourages us to let our restless hearts be still and focus on God as our lodestar. In that way, we are partaking in eternal life right now. What distracts us?

What worries and concerns, what regrets and failures keep us from focusing on the presence of God in our midst at this very moment? Is this gospel passage a comfort or a challenge?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

What “troubles” your heart these days? One could easily wonder, as the disciples must have, a couple days after their dinner with Jesus when the authorities were looking for them—“So where is Jesus when we need him? Is he who he says he is? Why doesn’t he show himself and help us end the sufferings in the world?” What aspects of Jesus’ person, teaching and activity are most important for you? Reread this gospel today and try to see that Jesus is with us, even if we cannot see Him, and see that He has gone before us to prepare a welcome for us. Share with Him your hopes for a life with God.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Adapted from “First Impressions,” a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Do I trust that God is my father, and the father of all of us? Do I believe that heaven exists because God is there? Is God’s name holy to me? Do I really trust that God will give me whatever of this world’s goods I need, or do I worry a lot about money, possessions, security? Do I believe that God forgives me? Do I forgive those who have hurt me, or do I still carry old resentments and pain into my relationships? Do I believe that God would never ‘tempt’ me to sin and thus lose eternal life, or do I believe that God sets traps for me so that I must constantly prove my love? Do I believe that my God, my Father, will deliver me from evil; that God, my Father, is my strength and my salvation?

And finally, I recite the Lord’s Prayer, praying each phrase as an affirmation of my trust in the Lord, rather than as a series of petitions.

Poetic Reflection:

Read the following poem by the late Denise Levertov, a former professor at Stanford. Try to remember a really foggy day in the Bay Area and see if you can recapture the trust expressed here:

Morning Mist

The mountain absent,
a remote folk-memory,

The peninsula
vanished, hill, trees, —
gone, shoreline
a rumour.

And we equate
God with these absences Deus absconditus.
But God

is imaged
as well or better
in the white stillness
resting everywhere,

giving to all things
an hour of Sabbath,

no leaf stirring,
the hidden places

tranquil in solitude.

—from Evening Train

Closing Prayer

Lord, I am trying so hard, in the face of my everyday problems, to focus on the knowledge that you love me and want what is best for me. I really do have faith in you, and I believe you when you say the Father feels the same way, that the Father wants me to be close and safe, both in this world and the next. I can readily imagine a parent wanting the best for her child, feeling sad when that child is sad, and wanting to be with that child forever. Help me, Jesus, to apply that knowledge to my relationship with my divine Abba, my loving Father God. Help me to remember your words: “I am going to prepare a place for you”. See you then…

Fourth Sunday of Easter, April 30, 2023

Jesus came to give us life more abundantly

John 10: 1–10

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.”

Although Jesus used this figure of speech, they did not realize what he was trying to tell them.

So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came [before me] are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”

Music Meditations

• The Lord Is My Shepherd—John Rutter
• Shepherd Me O God—Salesiankids
• Jesus I Need You—Hillsong (Praise and Worship)
• Lead Me, Guide Me—Selah

Opening Prayer

From Thomas Merton in Entering the Silence:

Good Shepherd, You have a wild and crazy sheep in love with thorns and brambles, But please don’t get tired of looking for me! I know You won’t. For You have found me. All I have to do is stay found…

Companions for the Journey

(a distillation of ideas from various sources, including “America”, “First Impressions”, and others):

Many listeners have been put off by this imagery, thinking that the passage is about us and how stupid and needy we are. And sometimes we have been treated as such. However, the focus is really on Jesus here, on his caring and loving nature. All of us at one time or another have felt protective of someone else, and most of us, at one time or another have been gently and lovingly cared for. So once we get past our indignation at being treated like sheep, then we can focus on an image of Jesus (and God) that goes beyond fear, obedience, docility, reward, punishment and all those words that keep us from embracing true realization of God as our loving Abba. Only then an we see Jesus as someone constantly looking out for us. Only then we can take great joy and comfort in this passage. This relationship is really what the shepherd imagery is all about.

We now jump from post resurrection narratives back to John 10—to a speech Jesus made to the Pharisees earlier in his ministry right after he cured the man born blind; this “jumping around” is common in the lectionary where readings are not necessarily sequential, but are often organized thematically. But why insert this speech here? John Harrington, S.J, said: through his resurrection the slain Lamb has become for straying sheep “the shepherd and guardian of your souls.” This startling transformation is a neat summary of what Christians believe about the paschal mystery. I also think it is to remind us that Jesus’s whole life had a mission, a purpose. There were many hints in John of what this purpose was, and who Jesus was, but there is a hope here that after realizing the importance of the resurrection as an event, we must also realize that it is part of the entire mission of Jesus, and therefore, the mission of all his disciples down through the ages: to care for one another as a shepherd does the sheep, and to bring life in abundance, wherever and whenever we can, to those around us.

We begin today to consider two images that Jesus gives of himself: the that of a shepherd and the second that of a sheep gate.

We have to imagine a sheepfold as an area surrounded by walls or wooden fencing but open to the sky, and with only one entrance. The walls kept the sheep from wandering and protected them from wild animals at night, and a shepherd slept across that one entrance as protection for the sheep inside. Only a genuine shepherd enters the sheepfold through the single gate. Thieves and brigands will try to enter by another way, such as by climbing over the walls or breaking through the fence. “All who came before me are thieves and robbers but the sheep do not listen to them.” Jesus is referring to all the “false shepherds”, including some of the Pharisees and religious leaders of his time who are quite unlike the true prophets of the past. The real shepherd, however, enters by the gate and is recognized and admitted by the gatekeeper (the one mentioned above who sleeps across the entrance). There are many sheep in the sheepfold belonging to different shepherds so the shepherd calls his own sheep out one by one. He then walks ahead of them and they follow their shepherd because they know his voice. They never follow strangers. (This is quite different from the European or Australian custom where the sheep are driven from behind.)

We are told that his hearers failed to understand the meaning of what Jesus said. They failed to realize that the parable applied particularly to the religious leaders. (Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees in this section—those who purported to be examples of proper religious observance). So he spoke more clearly: “I AM the gate of the sheepfold.” On the contrary, Jesus, as the Gate, the Way, has come “that they may have life and have it to the full.” This is a constant theme we have heard many times already and especially in chapter 6 about Jesus as the food and nourishment giving us life. But it is not mere existence that Jesus promises here, it is life in abundance. What do we think Jesus means by life in abundance?

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Have you ever defined yourself in terms of whom/what you were not?
  What was the purpose of doing so?
• How do you usually respond to the biblical imagery of sheep and shepherds?
  Is it helpful?
  Or does it put you off?
• In Jesus’ time, sheep on the range (as opposed to in the villages) were often penned in after dark, with walls of wood, vines and branches and a small opening for them to get in or out. The shepherd stretched himself across that opening as a “gate” so that sheep could not get out or human and animal marauders get in. Does this idea affect your image of Jesus as the gate of his sheep?
  Have you ever thought of Jesus protecting you in times of uncertainty, danger or trouble?
• Again, in Jesus’ time, many flocks were penned together, especially in the villages. It was uncanny how the sheep recognized their own shepherd by his voice and followed only him. What in our culture keeps us from hearing the voice of the good shepherd?
  How do we distinguish His voice from all of the other voices that clamor for our attention (our prevailing culture, advertisers, messages from our childhood, for example)?
• How have the demands of love in your life led you to shepherd another or others?
  How did it work out?
  How did you feel?
• Have you ever been nurtured in your faith life by someone who had your best interests at heart?
• How someone speaks to us can be life-giving or harsh and destructive… What has generally been the quality of things spoken to me—harsh and unforgiving, or inviting and nurturing, calling me to growth and to life?
  What is the quality of my messages to others?
• From “Sacred Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:
  What lifts your spirit, satisfies your soul, gives you lasting peace and fills you with life?
  What drains you, steals your energy, leaves you lifeless and empty?
  Native Americans have been known to tell their children that deeply imbedded in our hearts are two wolves each wanting to kill the other… the child is meant to ask:” And who wins? The parent wisely answers: “The one you feed the most.”.
  What wolf am I feeding?
• In what ways am I only half-alive (boredom, pain, loneliness, sadness)?
  When have I felt gloriously alive?
• What does it mean to me to be alive in Christ?
  Walter Burghardt, SJ. Said: “Eternal life does not begin at death, it begins when we believe.” Or as John 17 puts it: Eternal life consists in this; that they know you, the only true Go, and the one you sent, Jesus Christ.”
  Do I realize I am living in eternal life right now?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

One translation of Psalm 23 is: “The Lord is my Shepherd, he keeps me from wanting what I can’t have”.

“And what you thought you came for is only a shell, a husk of meaning from which the purpose breaks only when it is fulfilled, if at all. Either you had no purpose or the purpose is beyond the end you figured and is altered in fulfillment.” (T.S. Eliot: “Little Gidding”)

I make a list of all the things I want at this moment.

Then I think of something that I really wanted that I didn’t get; and something that I didn’t even want that somehow came my way. How have these things impacted my life for good or for ill? Have I been able to see the hand of God working things out for the best? I go back to the list of things I want and offer each one to the wisdom of the Shepherd’s providence.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

What does it mean to you to “have life”? How about “life in abundance”? Does this mean that you should always expect to be rich, healthy, important, successful? Does it mean that you should always love what you do, be excited about your life, be happy all the time? Reflect on these passages that have cropped up throughout the whole gospel of John, which is focused on this gift of life: “In him was life, and the life was the light of all people” (1:4). “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” (3:1). “I am the resurrection and the Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live” (11:25). “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (17:3). “But these are written so that you may believe… and that through believing you may have life in his name” (20:31).

What lifts your spirit, satisfies your soul and gives you lasting peace and fills you with life? Insert your definition/expectation of the promise to have life in abundance….remembering to give thanks for all the benefits of abundant life you have received.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read Psalm 23, then transpose the words so that you are speaking directly to God. (I.e. Lord, you are my good shepherd, I shall not want. Rich and green are the pastures where you give me repose, etc). Savor each phrase as you speak from your heart to the God who loves you and wants what is best for you, the Lord who wants you to be happy in your relationship with your God.

Then Imagine God Speaking the words of this psalm to you directly: I am your good shepherd, you shall want nothing.” At the end, take time simply to be silent and rest in the immensity of God’s loving embrace.

Poetic Reflection:

Read this poem by Ed Ingebretzen, S.J. This is another way of looking as Jesus as our good shepherd:

“A Story that will save us”

Tell us a story that will save us (and that will have been enough) all the great songs have been prayed save only one Tell us a story that will save us Go down Lord, & bring us home May our promises free us not chain us May what we desire fill us not entrap us May those persons we love finish us not bind us Go down Lord, & bring us home You are our history, Lord We neither begin nor end outside you May you be for us not weapon, not answer, but cause of peace May our questions show us not division but the smallness of human answers. Go down, Lord & bring us home May our words create Not destroy May our hands nurture Not break May our dreams lead and encourage us Not trap us in despair Go down, Lord & bring us home We are anxious about many things We are lost in many ways Go down, Lord & bring us home.

Poetic reflection:

A humorous take on Psalm 23 for students:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not flunk; He keepeth me from lying down when I should be studying. He leadeth me beside the water cooler for a study break; He restoreth my faith in study guides. He leads me to better study habits For my grade's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of borderline grades, I will not have a nervous breakdown; For Thou art with me. My prayers and my friends, they comfort me. Thou givest me answers in moments of blankness; Thou anointest my head with understanding. My test paper runneth over with questions I recognize. Surely passing grades and flying colors shall follow me All the days of my examinations, And I shall not have to dwell in this university forever. Amen!

Closing Prayer

Lord, today I especially pray for all those whom I have shepherded in this life so far. Help me to nurture them gently, help me to protect them where I can, and end their sorrow and hurts when they have strayed. Help me to be understanding of other’s mistakes, knowing I have made many myself. Give me the wisdom to understand that, unlike you, Lord, I do not always know what is best for everyone. Give me the power to protect those in my care insofar as I am able. Help me to let them run free when I need to give them freedom and the power to make their own decisions, and even their own mistakes.

Third Sunday of Easter, April 23, 2023

How do I recognize the presence of Jesus in my life?

Luke 24: 13–35

Now that very day two of them were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?” They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?” And he replied to them, “What sort of things?” They said to him, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. LBut we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place. Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see.” And he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning [within us] while he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us?” So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the eleven and those with them who were saying, “The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!” Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Music Meditations

• I Will Walk the Presence of God—Chris deSilva
• One Bread, One Body--John Michael Talbot
• You Are Near--Dan Schutte

Opening Prayer

Lord, I know I walk with you, but I do not always recognize you. Help me to find you through prayer and the scriptures, and especially through service to those who might need my help and comfort. Trust me to do for others what you do for me.

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions”, A service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Some people who go through a crisis, like a sudden illness, or the death of a loved one, will struggle in their faith and wonder: “Where is God?” “Has God abandoned me?” Or even, “Why is God doing this to me?” When people in crisis hear the Easter accounts, like today’s gospel, they get a case of the, “If only’s...” “If only I had been there with those frightened disciples when Jesus suddenly appeared in their midst, then I would have strong faith.” “If only I had seen his wounded hands and feet, I would have shared with him my own hurts.”

“If only I had watched him eat that baked fish by the side of the lake, I would have told him of my own hunger.” Luke’s account of the disciples’ encounter with Jesus on the road is certainly one of the most beautiful in the New Testament. It is a story of two people who were so focused on the past they couldn’t see what was right before their eyes. With the death of Jesus their world collapsed. Walking away from Jerusalem they were also walking away from their dreams. They were going back into darkness, as they tell the stranger who has joined them, “It is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” They weren’t just speaking about the time of the day. They were returning to their old lives, it seemed nothing had changed and things appeared pretty dark for them. When Jesus joined them on their journey Luke tells us, “...their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” What caused their blindness? Why didn’t they recognize the one they had been following, with whom they had shared their lives? Maybe it was because they had their own idea of what they wanted Jesus to be, some kind of king, or a warrior on a  mighty stallion who would vanquish the Romans. “We were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel.” But Jesus was right there in front of them, in the flesh, to show he was alive. Wasn’t that enough? Apparently not, since they didn’t recognize him.

Luke wrote his gospel between the years 80-90.  The Emmaus account Is in the last chapter of his gospel. Neither he, nor his  contemporaries, had experienced the risen Christ the way the first disciples had.  Like us, they hadn’t seen him in the flesh. Like us they needed reassurance that Christ was truly risen from the dead and was among them. Like us, life sometimes overwhelmed them, leaving them with questions, confusion and doubts. Luke needed to show his contemporaries how their faith could be strengthened; how Jesus wasn’t a past-tense phenomenon, merely a great historical figure now long gone. We have walked the road to Emmaus. We know how long it is; how it twists and turns; how it doubles back on itself; how confusing it can be; how we can feel lost, even forgotten. The road to Emmaus is a road of fallen expectations. Haven’t there been times in our lives when we have said, “If only I had....” Or, “I wish I hadn’t....”? When we even uttered the words of the dejected travelers, “We were hoping....”  When a marriage didn’t  last… a personal goal never realized... a child went off the deep end... an illness severely limited our capabilities.  Times like these, the  words of the two disciples are ours as well, “We were hoping....” By the way he tells his story Luke is helping his contemporary Christians and us see the risen Christ with us. Notice the important  elements: Jesus begins by explaining the Scriptures to them.  In other words, the biblical Word of God is proclaimed and explained so that new insight is given to the disciples. Then, as we do in worship, after having the Word of God opened for them, the needy disciples gather around the table with Jesus where bread is blessed, broken and given to them. In both this gospel and the Acts of the Apostles (his second volume) Luke uses the term, “the breaking of the bread” -- which was, and still, is a term used for the Eucharist. Luke is describing the encounter with the resurrected Christ in terms of the community’s liturgical  experience. With them our “eyes are opened” and we meet the risen Lord when we gather to hear the Word of God and “break the bread” together.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

On my journey, what have been my disappointments? What hopes have I had? Have I ever wondered if it is all worth it? Have I ever wondered if you matter? Have I ever found myself walking away from a situation, a relationship or even my religion, because nothing had worked and I did not know how to go on? Did my disappointment and regrets keep me from seeing the possibilities right in front of me? How was hope and energy restored to me? What was the role of another in helping me turn around? Did focusing on the needs of someone around me help me pull out of a self-defeating funk? What was the role of my religion or the scriptures in giving me comfort or a new direction? Has there been a special companion on my journey of faith? Has there been a time in my life when I was discouraged and then my eyes were opened to discover that Jesus was actually walking with me? Has there ever been a time in my ordinary life that Christ was actually there, but I did not notice him? Is Christ there now? What is the difference between seeing and recognizing? In the Eucharist we do not see Jesus, but we recognize him….is that true for you? In the people we meet every day, we might not see Jesus, but do we recognize him in them? The late renowned homilist Walter Burghardt, S.J., wrote that recognition for the disciples came in three stages: when they were walking together and sharing their disappointments; then when the stranger in their midst began interpreting the scriptures for them; and finally, after their invitation to dine, they recognized him fully in the breaking of the bread. So too, we can recognize Christ when we gather together, when we read, hear and try to understand scripture—either alone or in our small groups, and finally, at the Eucharistic table. Do I have a sense of coming to gradual recognition of Jesus in my life? Do I realize that this is not a one-time process, but one that recurs all throughout my spiritual life? Like the journey of the disciples to Emmaus, our life is a faith journey. Where are you in your journey, and what do you need to help you along the way? On your journey, what have been some high points that “caused your heart to burn within you?” What have been some signs of God present in your life? How do you listen to and wrestle with scripture? Do I trust God enough to pour out my heart to Him? C.S. Lewis, in a homily called “The Weight of Glory”, said: “Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses….for in your neighbor is Christ.” Do I actually see my neighbor as Christ in my own life? Have there ever been Easter moments in my life?

Meditations

A Meditation in the IgnatianStyle/Imagination:

Read the story of the journey to Emmaus (Luke 24: 13-32) Try to imagine what the apostles have been doing and how they have been feeling over the last two days. Then picture yourself in their place as they walk down that road to Emmaus. What do you see? hear? What are your feelings about all that has happened? Picture the scene as a strange man walks up to you and begins to ask about your feelings. How would you respond? Why do you not recognize Jesus? Imagine your feelings as you share the story of what the women told you, and then again as Jesus talks to you. Imagine the moment of surprise and joy as you recognize Jesus. How do you feel about seeing Jesus "alive"? Talk to Jesus as you would if you had actually been there that day, telling him of your sadness and then your happiness.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

T.S. Eliot, in part II of “Four Quartets”, wrote: We had the experience, but missed the meaning, And approach to the meaning restores the experience In a different form, beyond any meaning we can assign to happiness. Recognition of Jesus was not a magic act that was indisputable proof of his divinity, nor was it only open to those with brains or money, or religious position. Walter Burghardt, S.J. commented that recognition of Jesus was only open to believers. What, then, is needed, is grace freely offered and a response on the part of the believer. Note that even Jesus’ special friends could not recognize Jesus for much of their journey What is the difference between seeing and recognizing? Have I ever had an experience, the importance of which was lost on me at the moment, but which I understood much later? We each have different ways to come to recognition: the beauty of MemChu; a community of shared belief and prayer life; love of spouse, child, friends, parents, even pets; the selflessness of health workers and first responders, the kindness of another; the joy exhibited by a young child; memories of loved ones. Has this ever happened in my spiritual experience? Spend a little time thinking of the ways in which you might come to recognize God’s love and the presence of Jesus in your midst.

A Meditation in the Dominican style/Asking Questions:

Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

In looking at this Gospel, we see that all the ingredients of the Christian life are here. Where do you find yourself in this scenario? – Running away from where Christ is to be found. We do it all the time. – Meeting Jesus in the unexpected place or person or situation. How many times does this happen and we do not recognize him, or worse mistreat him? – Finding the real meaning and identity of Jesus and his mission in having the Scriptures fully explained. Without the Scriptures we cannot claim to know Jesus. Yet how many Catholics go through life hardly ever opening a bible? – Recognizing Jesus in the breaking of bread, in our celebration of the Eucharist. The breaking and sharing of the bread indicates the essentially community dimension of that celebration, making it a real “com-union” with all present. – The central experience of Scripture and Liturgy draws us to participate in the work of proclaiming the message of Christ and sharing our experience of it with others that they may also share it. – The importance of hospitality and kindness to the stranger. “I was hungry… and you did/did not feed…” Jesus is especially present and to be found and loved in the very least of my brothers and sisters.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/ Action:

Can I see the face of Jesus wherever I look— in the sick and the dying? in the health care workers? in the grocery store clerks? in those defying safe-distance protocols? in the person whose political views I despise? In the homeless? In the people who don’t look like me, speak like me, pray like me? I spend this week making sure that I can find the face of Jesus in everyone I meet—without exception!

Poetic Reflection:

Could you imagine yourself in this situation?

THE SERVANT GIRL AT EMMAUS
(A PAINTING BY VELASQUEZ)

She listens, listens, holding her breath. Surely that voice is his--the one who had looked at her, once, across the crowd, as no one had ever looked? Had seen her? Had spoken as if to her? Surely those hands were his, taking the platter of bread from hers just now? Hands he'd laid on the dying and made them well? Surely that face-- The man they'd crucified for sedition and blasphemy. The man whose body disappeared from its tomb. The man it was rumored now some women had see this morning, alive? Those who had brought this stranger home to their table don't recognize yet with whom they sit. But she is in the kitchen, absently touching the winejug she's to take in, a young black servant intently listening, swings round and sees the light around him and is sure.

Denise Levertov from The Stream and the Sapphire

Literary Reflection:

How does this poem by Thom Gunn reflect what the apostles needed after Jesus’ death? How does it reflect what we may need when we have lost someone?

THE REASSURANCE

About ten days or so After we saw you dead You came back in a dream. I'm all right now you said. And it was you, although You were fleshed out again: You hugged us all round then, And gave your welcoming beam. How like you to be kind, seeking to reassure. And yes, how like my mind To make itself secure.

Closing Prayer

Stay with me Lord, for it is toward evening. The busy world is hushed, the fever of the day is over, and the work of my day is done. As you walked with me, beside me every minute today, be with me in my rest. Give me comfort and repose this day. I hope to do the same for others I need along the way.

Second Sunday of Easter, April 16, 2023

Faith in Jesus might be hard-won, but it strengthens us for the journey of life

John 20: 19–31

In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, ‘Peace be with you,’ and, after saying this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy at seeing the Lord, and he said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. ‘As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.’ After saying this he breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven; if you retain anyone’s sins, they are retained. Thomas, called the Twin, who was one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, ‘We have seen the Lord,’ but he answered, ‘Unless I can see the holes that the nails made in his hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.’ Eight days later the disciples were in the house again and Thomas was with them. The doors were closed, but Jesus came in and stood among them. ‘Peace be with you,’ he said. Then he spoke to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; look, here are my hands. Give me your hand; put it into my side. Do not be unbelieving any more but believe.’ Thomas replied, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him: You believe because you can see me. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe. There were many other signs that Jesus worked in the sight of the disciples, but they are not recorded in this book. These are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing this you may have life through his name.

Music Meditations

• Wonderful Merciful Savior—Selah
• All Things Bright and Beautiful—John Rutter
• Make me an instrument of your peace—John Michael Talbot and others
• You are my hiding place—Selah

Opening Prayer

Jesus, I let you whisper to me: “you will be blessed if you decide to believe”. And you alone know how hard it is sometimes to believe in your goodness, your mercy, and your power over sin and death. You alone know how afraid we are to trust in others, and even in your presence in our lives, sustaining us. Lord, I want to believe. Help my unbelief.

Companions for the Journey

Father Paul Crowley, S.J. taught theology in the Religious Studies Department, Graduate Program in Pastoral Ministries and at the Jesuit School of Theology. His teaching also brought him to Stanford University and the Weston School of Theology, now the Boston College School of Theology and Ministry, as a visiting professor. He was a prolific writer with numerous award-winning publications, with books on Karl Rahner, Robert McAfee Brown, pluralism in the Church, and faith and suffering. Paul was very active in his profession, having served as editor-in-chief of the prestigious journal of the Society of Jesus, Theological Studies, and as a member of its board. He also held appointments on the boards of the Catholic Theological Society of America, Boston College School of Theology and Ministry, and Jesuit School of Theology. He was good friend of the Catholic Community at Stanford, and devised two courses taught at Stanford through the Catholic Community at Stanford. This homily was posted on April 19, 2020, several months before his death from cancer on August 7, 2020:

When I was a boy, the first Sunday after Easter was known as “Low Sunday.” The previous Sunday had marked the greatest feast in the Christian year, in the Christian faith, and thus, anything following it had to be anticlimactic. Or so the thinking seemed to go. Yet, the Gospel was the same, John’s story about the doubting Thomas, and like today, Easter extended from Easter Sunday all the way to Pentecost. This year in particular, the moniker “Low” might seem appropriate enough. Easter itself felt “low” due to the shelter-in-place orders most everyone has all been faithfully observing. In fact, things are so low at this point in the Covid-19 catastrophe, that what we celebrate on Easter and in this season might get lost in the overall sense of panic that has beset many of us. For we were celebrating—remembering—the fact that in Jesus, God acted in and through suffering and death to conquer it and bring about a new creation. And that this new creation is the foundation of our hope: That even in the midst of the worst suffering, and in the face of death itself, God’s grace is constantly on offer. It is tempting to attribute this Easter faith to a Christianized version of a myth of eternal return, or a theological gloss on the obvious wonder of new life springing forth from winter’s hardened earth and appearance of death. But that is not what this is about, lovely as those images are, and even helpful in inspiring a sense of possibility, a future. For the death that was conquered in the Resurrection of Jesus was a real, bodily death. And that body was itself an outward expression of the fact that God had entered fully into the human condition in Jesus (that other feast we celebrate in December, the Incarnation). What the Incarnation tells us is that our human natures are made for this union with God, accomplished fully in Jesus, and analogously accomplished in us through a lifetime of grace ever abounding. Aquinas reminds us that the finality of a human life is in union with God, and that that human life includes the body. Of course, we are not speaking of a union of a physical body with God—an absurdity—but of the whole of our persons, symbolized by the body, in God. What makes Christian faith in the Resurrection a real thing—what anchors it—is not the sheer will to believe. It is, rather, that there is something to be discovered in this embodied existence, where Christ dwelt, with all its suffering, with the ineluctability of death: that God is found there; God resides there. And that the human, human nature, is entrée into the full reality of God. The conditions for union with God, completion in God, are set even before we are aware of that fact—or even if we are never made aware of it. But those with the gift of faith are aware of this fact, and that makes all the difference as we face death. When Jesus quite often counsels his disciples to “fear not,” he is pointing to a profoundly challenging dimension of this faith, of believing: that we can let go of our fears, even in the midst of the most terrifying suffering, because God is radically present in the realities we inhabit and is there to lead us through all of this harrowing directly into a more intense union with himself. But, accepting that is not an easy thing. In today’s Gospel, Thomas is reaching for that kind of faith. He wants to touch the wounds of Christ, not for empirical evidence of the Resurrection in a modern scientific sense, but in order to connect the Jesus he sees with the fact that Jesus is, as John reminds us at the start of his Gospel, the Word made flesh. It is this very Word-made-flesh that has now been raised from the dead. Thomas wants the complete experience of this fact—a somatic experience of the completeness of God’s work in Jesus as God’s promise for him. And his response is not one of a modern sceptic (I now have evidence, and so I’ll give it some credence); it is rather one of worship, of adoration, before the manifestation of the power of God’s love: “My Lord and my God!” For before this fact, this unity between Incarnation and Resurrection, there is a unity between our own embodied existence and God’s desire for us, his constant self-offer. We are made for this unity, this glory—for Resurrection understood as the finality of our embodied existence, the completion of our human natures in God. All that said, the suffering and death we are witnessing and will continue to witness in the Covid-19 pandemic are overpoweringly real. They admit of no sugar-coating. But no death admits of sugar-coating, especially when it is tinged with human sinfulness, as in warfare or violence. But even here we are challenged, as Thomas was, to find the reality of God—in the suffering and dying, in their bodies breaking down, in the overwhelming fatigue and frustration of generous health-care workers, in researchers looking for answers, and even in the dark recalcitrance of some “leaders” in the face of truth. If we are suffering ourselves in some real physical way, especially when it involves pain, this can make the challenge even greater. We are not disposed toward the search. We simply want to retreat, to escape. As well we might and sometimes should. But none of that empties the Resurrection of its meaning; in fact, what we are witnessing and many undergoing only reinforces it. We are now focused on our embodied lives, lives shared across artificial boundaries, and finding among ourselves a common set of hopes and ideals. Like Thomas, we want to touch others where they have been most grievously wounded. We are seeking to overcome fear, and to face the darkness in which we stand, especially through gestures of love. Some of us believe that in so doing we are walking the pathways of hope, of entry into a new creation—a new order for the human race. Or that we are at least rediscovering the patterns that are possible but too easily forgotten when we also lose sight of the full meaning of our shared embodied existence, of the transcendence of the human spirit reaching toward God, and of God’s reaching toward us in the very heart of the sufferings (and joys) that we undergo.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Peace be with you.

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Those disciples were in a locked room because they were afraid. Are there doors to my heart that are locked?
  What role does fear and self-preservation play in my tendency to lock myself away spiritually or emotionally?
  What role does fear of change play in my unwillingness to let others in, even Jesus?
• Did you ever make a promise that you ultimately were unable to fulfill?
  How hard was it to face the one you disappointed?
  Was your relationship ever the same?
• If you were in Jesus’ place, what would you have said to those followers (like Peter, and like Thomas) who said they would follow him to his death? And didn’t?
  Did Jesus’ response surprise you?
• Scholars have said that the shalom means much more than the word “peace” What does the word shalom mean to you?
• How do you define mercy?
  Where, in this passage, is there evidence of God’s mercy?
• Have you ever been called upon to receive mercy from someone else?
  How hard was it to do so?
• Have you ever been called on to extend mercy to someone else?
  Was this mercy grudging, or condescending, or even insulting toward the recipient?
• What is the role of understanding and compassion in extending mercy?
  Where is the power dynamic in giving/receiving mercy?
  Did Jesus reflect that?
• Jesus greeted the disciples in the gospel twice with the words “peace be with you”. What is “peace” for me?
  Has there ever been a lack of peace in my life?
  Is there a lack of peace now?
  How do I deal with his?
  Thomas was called “the twin”. Could that refer to both his trusting and his skeptical self?
  Can we be both believing and disbelieving at the same time?
• When Thomas was separated from the community, he found faith more difficult. Has this been my experience?
• Is it sometimes difficult to trust the assertion/testimony of another?
  Can I sympathize with Thomas?
• Do you think Jesus was judging Thomas?
  What is the role of judgement in the practice of mercy?
• Like Thomas, do I ever place conditions on my faith/belief?
  Am I open to where God’s spirit may be recognized?
  Is it enough to say “I believe”? or “My Lord and My God”?
• What in my personal life tests my faith?
  What strengthens it?
  What weakens it?
• Is there a climate of unbelief in our society?
  What in our culture undermines trust/belief?
  What supports it?
• Who, in your experience, has not had proof to back up her belief, trust and optimism, but forged ahead anyway?
  Are we asked to do this in our own daily lives in any way?
  What does your relationship with Jesus do to sustain you in your fear and lack of trust/belief that, in the words of Julian Norwich: “All will be well”?
• The emphasis on the wounds of Jesus in this gospel reinforces our recognition of the humanity of Jesus. Is it hard for me to identify with Jesus’ true humanity?
  Do I really believe that Jesus is like us, with wounds of love, wounds of hate, and signs of suffering?
• What do I see as “wounds” the Church (the body of Christ) has received from the world, past and present?
  What do I see as the “wounds” the Church has inflicted on itself?
  What do I see as the “wounds” the Church has inflicted on others?
• “Blessed are those who have not seen, but believed”
  Does this imply somehow that we should have no doubts, or is this praise perhaps for John’s community who have never seen Jesus but believe in him, even despite their doubts and fears?
  By extension, could it apply to us who have not seen, who may have doubts, yet choose to believe in the ultimate goodness that is Jesus?
• Do you sympathize with Thomas or you find fault with his doubts?
• What do you think was the reason Jesus showed Thomas his wounds?
  Do you think this shared experience brought Thomas closer to trusting and believing Jesus?
• Have you ever been reluctant to show another your personal “wounds”?
  Why?
• Can sharing one’s woundedness ever be manipulative?
  How do we avoid this tendency when imparting or receiving information about wounds that have been sustained?
  Is it hard?
• This story is a major example of how Jesus broke into the lives of his friends. Can I let him break into mine?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Freely adapted from “Sacred Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

I imagine that I am one of the disciples there in the room when Jesus first appears. How shocked am I? Am I fearful? Comforted? Does everyone in my community “see” that this is really the resurrected Jesus? Does it happen to each of us all at once, or is there a different pace of recognition for each of us? In my role as disciple in the upper room, am I at all hesitant to believe what I am seeing? How do I feel when Jesus says: ”Peace be with you”? What does it feel like when Jesus breathes on me and tells me to receive the Holy Spirit? Do I have any idea what he is talking about? When Thomas returns, do I rush to tell him what excitement he has missed? How do I feel when he rejects my testimony and demands some sort of proof? Do I feel this is this a rejection of Jesus or a rejection of my own personal experience of Jesus?

When Thomas actually does encounter Jesus himself, he seems to forget his former need for proof. Did Jesus look into his heart and see the need that was there? Why do I think Jesus shows Thomas, and the rest of us his hands and his side? Do I feel connected, through those wounds, to our shared history?

In my own life, do I ever feel that my experience of Jesus is special to me, and feel superior to those whose belief is harder won or even non-existent? In my own faith experience, do hope that God looks beyond my first reaction, my hasty words, and sees the need in me for love, for reassurance, for comfort? I sit quietly in Jesus’ presence and listen for his voice, being open to whatever he offers me. I resolve to give Jesus not just my intellectual belief, but to give him my heart, because he has already given me his.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

From “Justice Bulletin Board,” by Barbara Molinari Quimby, Director of Social Justice Ministries, Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral, Raleigh, N.C.:

When I came across these meditations that Pope Francis prepared for a spiritual retreat in 2016, I thought that each of us could find help for our own spiritual journey toward being recreated in the image of Jesus, an image of mercy.

1st Meditation:

Nothing unites us to God more than an act of mercy… for it is by mercy that the Lord forgives our sins and gives us the grace to practice acts of mercy in his name.

Mercy impels us to pass from personal to the communal. We see this in the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, a miracle born of Jesus’ compassion for his people and for others. Something similar happens when we act mercifully: the bread of mercy multiplies as it is shared.

Mercy joins a human need to the heart of God, and this leads to immediate action. We cannot meditate on mercy without it turning into action… Mercy engages our whole being – our feelings and our spirit – and all other beings as well.

Mercy gets its hands dirty. It touches, it gets involved, it gets caught up with others, it gets personal.

2nd Meditation:

Saint Bernard has two fine sermons on the Lord’s wounds. There, in those wounds, we find mercy. Bernard pointedly asks: “Do you feel lost? “Are you troubled? Enter into the wounds of the Lord and there you will find mercy.”

3rd Meditation:

Being merciful is not only “a way of life”, but “the way of life.”

Poetic Reflection:

Malcolm Guite wrote a wonderful poem about how Thomas’s experience is also ours:

“St. Thomas the Apostle”

“We do not know… how can we know the way?”
Courageous master of the awkward question,
You spoke the words the others dared not say
And cut through their evasion and abstraction.
Oh doubting Thomas, father of my faith,
You put your finger on the nub of things
We cannot love some disembodied wraith,
But flesh and blood must be our king of kings.
Your teaching is to touch, embrace, anoint,
Feel after Him and find Him in the flesh.
Because He loved your awkward counter-point
The Word has heard and granted you your wish.
Oh place my hands with yours, help me divine
The wounded God whose wounds are healing mine.

Poetic Reflection:

This is a lovely meditation on a poem by Denise Levertov, late a professor of English at Stanford University, who converted to Catholicism while she was here in her sixties and who wrote a Mass for the Day of St. Thomas (also called Mass for the Sunday of St. Thomas). The poem is taken from a book called The Stream & the Sapphire, which chronicles Levertov's journey from unbelief to faith.
From the blog “Eleison”:

Especially on this Sunday I am reminded of the poem “St. Thomas Didymus” by Denise Levertov. In her poem she exquisitely expresses both Thomas’ doubt as well as the beautiful revelation of the risen Lord. She draws a parallel between Thomas’ doubt and the epileptic’s father who exclaimed, “I believe Lord, help my unbelief.” Often, like Thomas, I struggle with doubts of my own. I often doubt that God will tend to me and provide for me as I walk the narrow way, stewarding my sexuality. I fear loneliness, rejection, isolation, and unhappiness as the result of my celibacy. However, I find much comfort in knowing that like Thomas I can express and speak aloud my doubts and like Thomas not be rejected for my doubt but met by the Risen Lord so I may cry, “You are my Lord and my God.”

“St. Thomas Didymus”

by Denise Levertov

In the hot street at noon I saw him
a small man
gray but vivid, standing forth
beyond the crowd’s buzzing
holding in desperate grip his shaking
teethgnashing son,
and thought him my brother.
I heard him cry out, weeping, and speak
those words,
Lord, I believe, help thou
mine unbelief,
and knew him
my twin:
a man whose entire being
had knotted itself
into the one tight drawn question,
Why,
why has this child lost his childhood in suffering,
why is this child who will soon be a man
tormented, torn twisted?
Why is he cruelly punished
who has done nothing except be born?
The twin of my birth
was not so close
as that man I heard
say what my heart
sighed with each beat, my breath silently
cried in and out,
in and out.
After the healing,
he, with his wondering
newly peaceful boy, receded;
no one
dwells on the gratitude, the astonished joy,
the swift
acceptance and forgetting.
I did not follow
to see their changed lives.
What I retained
was the flash of kinship.
Despite
all that I witnessed,
his question remained
my question, throbbed like a stealthy cancer,
known
only to doctor and patient. To others
I seemed well enough.
So it was
that after Golgotha
my spirit in secret
lurched in the same convulsed writhings
that tore that child
before he was healed.
And after the empty tomb
when they told me He lived, had spoken to Magdalen,
told me
that though He had passed through the door like a ghost
He had breathed on them
the breath of a living man-
even then
when hope tried with a flutter of wings
to lift me-
still, alone with myself,
my heavy cry was the same: Lord,
I believe,
help thou mine unbelief.
I needed
blood to tell me the truth,
the touch
of blood. Even
my sight of the dark crust of it
round the nailholes
didn’t thrust its meaning all the way through
to that manifold knot in me
that willed to possess all knowledge,
refusing to loosen
unless that insistence won
the battle I fought with life.
But when my hand
led by His hand’s firm clasp
entered the unhealed wound,
my fingers encountering
rib-bone and pulsing heat,
what I felt was not
scalding pain, shame for my obstinate need,
but light, light streaming
into me, over me, filling the room
as if I had lived till then
in a cold cave, and now
coming forth for the first time,
the knot that bound me unravelling,
I witnessed
all things quicken to color, to form,
my question
not answered but given
its part
in a vast unfolding design lit
by a risen sun.

Closing Prayer

Lord of mercy, be with me in my daily life. Help me to extend mercy, forgiveness, acceptance and “shalom” to others as you have done so to me. Keep me open to the new truths about yourself that you are revealing to me each day, if I can but listen. Help me to share my wounds and help me to acknowledge the wounds of others, just as you did for Thomas.