Sixth Sunday of Easter

If someone asked you where you were going for vacation, how might you answer? Obviously, there are an infinite number of possibilities. One person might answer, “To Rome.” Another might say, “To the Grand Canyon,” or “To Disney World.” Others might say something along the lines of, “To my Grandma’s house,” or “To a basketball camp,” or “To visit a friend in Colorado.” You get the idea. But it’s pretty safe to say that if someone posed that question to any one of us --- “Where are you going for vacation this year?” --- we would certainly not say, “Well, we’re going to back out of the garage, go west down our street until we come to the second intersection, turn right at the first stoplight, then make a left, get on the expressway going south, etc. . . .” That really doesn’t seem like an appropriate response to the question. The question asked was about a destination, the unusual answer given in the example above was about how we intended to get there. There’s a little bit of that type of thing going on in today’s Gospel passage from John. The conversation between Jesus and his disciples is familiar to many of us (and quite often chosen to be read at funerals). Jesus begins by talking about dwelling places, and how he is going to prepare a place for his disciples. And then he says something that I think is a little puzzling. He says, “Where I am going you know the way.” Notice that Jesus doesn’t say, “Where I am going you know the place.” No, Jesus takes the conversation in a somewhat different direction, moving from talking about a destination to talking about a journey --- a “way”--- to use his language. When Thomas inquires about this “way”, Jesus utters some of the most profound words in all of Scripture. “I am the way and the truth and the life.” And this should tell us something about a life of faith, a life of discipleship, a life in God. Living as new creations is not only about the destination --- no matter how important that destination may be (and nothing can be more important than being alive in, with, and for God for all eternity). It’s also about the journey, the path, the means through which we experience life to the fullest, the “way”. And for us as Christians, the WAY is a person, the Lord Jesus in whom we put all our trust. However --- trusting in, believing in, and having faith in the WAY (the Lord Jesus) is not a static thing. It’s dynamic, active, and alive. As disciples of the WAY, we are called to allow the Lord to enable us to embrace a particular way of life, a way of being, a way of thinking, and a way of seeing. It’s not just about the “what” that we believe in faith. It’s the “how”--- it’s the continual journey of taking steps in faith wherever Jesus leads. --- knowing perfectly well that at times we will mess up and need to be forgiven, at times we will become broken and wounded and need to be healed, and at times we will be confused and uncertain and will need to be comforted, guided, and reassured. That’s the journey of faith. That’s the pattern of our lives, the Paschal Mystery. That’s what it means to travel the WAY. One vacation that people who love the outdoors often take is to hiked a portion of the Appalachian Trail. At over two-thousand miles there are plenty of places to get on and off the trail. Many people, called “thru-hikers” walk the entire trail at once (usually taking several months). Others walk it in segments, returning each year to walk another portion. While a few --- and this sounds unbelievable --- get to the end of the trail, turn around, and start hiking the other direction. I imagine that if you asked such a person, “Why do you keep on hiking?” they’d probably say something along the lines of, “It’s who I am.” In the spiritual life it’s who we are too, people on a journey --- men and women who don’t simply focus on the destination, but who know the importance and beauty of the journey itself. And just as there are many shelters and places to stop on the Appalachian Trail, so too is it in our own spiritual lives. The difference being, of course, that most of these points in our lives are often completely unknown to us, don’t show up on the map we have created for ourselves, are not in our “plans”. The truth is, most of these small destinations on our faith journeys are unexpected stops, circumstances and experiences for which we could not have planned and which we would never have chosen had we had the chance. Such is life. Yet, where we are on the journey is not nearly as important as the journey itself. When we say that we have faith in Jesus, it is more than mere words or a concept we form in our minds. No, when we say, “Jesus, I have faith in you, “we’re really saying, “Jesus, because of my faith, hope, and trust in you I am willing and eager to change, willing to be whomever you call me to be, willing to follow wherever you lead --- even though I might not see the path ahead.” The stops, like prayer and Mass, are pauses and refueling stations, on a great adventure, moments to gather ourselves, dust ourselves off, and venture once again into the unknown --- placing our steps in the footprints of our Lord, the Way. This life matters --- all of it --- the complexities, the messiness, the struggles, the triumphs, and the sorrows. And so let’s embrace the journey of faith knowing Jesus is our guide through prayer and our strength and nourishment in the Eucharist. Union with him is our final destination and staying close to him is the Way.

4th Sunday of Easter Good Shepherd Sunday

“With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, . . .” If you’ve ever bumped into someone you haven’t seen in a very long time you know that it can go one of two ways. One --- it can be a fun, joyful, surprising moment --- one in which the person immediately experiences an “I can’t believe it’s you!” moment. That’s usually followed by handshakes or hugs or smiles or whatever. But that doesn’t always happen. Sometimes we get the second possible experience --- the one in which the other person knows exactly who we are, but we find ourselves thinking, “Who is this?” And if the conversation is brief, without many cues provided, we might find ourselves walking away and still not knowing who we had just bumped into. And that can be more than a little frustrating --- a kind of “missed opportunity”. The story we just heard is a familiar one, yet also a puzzling one. It’s the kind of story that makes some of us want to ask follow-up questions so that we can fill-in the blanks, that is, get the additional details we need to understand it better. And what immediately jumps into my mind is the question, “Did the two men on the road actually know Jesus before then? Had they personally met him or seen him before? If they did, then it seems that Jesus somehow kept them from recognizing him (as is stated by the text). But that doesn’t explain the fact that later the text doesn’t say that JESUS opened their eyes. It just says that “their eyes were opened”. So maybe they knew ABOUT Jesus, but didn’t really know him --- at least not know him by sight or by having met him. So which is it? Wouldn’t that make a difference in how we are to understand the story? Maybe not. At its most basic level, this story is about our ability to recognize Jesus or not, our ability to be ready to encounter Jesus or miss the God who is standing before us, the God in our midst. And the ambiguity in the story (in a sense) allows it to cover all possibilities, the entire range of human experience. That means the story has meaning for us regardless of whether we sense the divine often or hardly ever, whether we feel God is close by or far away, whether we feel we know him well or whether we wonder if we’ve ever even met him before. And that’s because no matter where we find ourselves on that range of experiences, the truth is --- Jesus will always seem to be absent from the places we don’t expect him to be, always seem to be hiding (in plain sight) if our hearts and minds are closed to the possibility of seeing him, always seem to be distant if we never expect him to be close. In other words, God wants us to see him, experience him, and recognize him in places, experiences, and people we would never expect --- “encounter” him where we can’t imagine he would ever be. In the boss we don’t like and in co-worker who is our best friend. In the neighbor who drives us crazy and in the one who always shovels our snow for free. In the person who “has it all together” and in the person whose life is a hot mess. In the college acceptance letter and even in the college rejection letter. In the most virtuous person we know and in the person who makes bad choice after bad choice, wrong turn after wrong turn. In church and in the supermarket. In our prayers at night and in the little league game we’re cheering at (no matter if our kid’s team eventually wins or loses). In the believer and (maybe to your surprise) in the non-believer. Even at this sacred, holy meal we share week after week, year after year. These God-moments are what we call “grace” --- our God pouring out his very life, his very self into our world and every person in it --- immersing himself and revealing himself in countless ways. He’s walking with us all the time, accompanying us on our journey --- wanting nothing more than for us to be aware of him, to recognize him, to listen to him, to be astounded by him. Yet too often our eyes remain closed, our hearts hardened by cynicism, our minds distracted by more things than we can count, our attention focused mostly on ourselves and earthly things. Yet, God doesn’t abandon us in those moments, doesn’t turn around and head in a different direction, looking for someone else who will pay attention to him. He just keeps walking with us, saying to us over and over again, “I’m right here….I’m right here.” The challenge is to not let these opportunities, these holy moments, these profound encounters pass us by. And if I make it sound easy, I don’t mean to. It’s not. It takes expecting to meet him in the unexpected. It takes pausing during these moments (especially the difficult ones) and asking ourselves . . . Where is God in this experience? Where is God in this person? What is God trying to tell me, show me, teach me, reveal to me? And maybe most importantly --- can I see God actually gifting himself to me in this experience or this person that doesn’t really look or feel like a gift at all? In other words, am I ready to let God come to me on his terms rather than on mine? How we answer that question might not just make a few moments more meaningful, it might just change the way we experience every single day of the rest of our lives. 

2nd Sunday of Easter Divine Mercy Sunday

After our repentant journey through Lent, and walking with Jesus through Holy Thursday and his Passion on Good Friday, now is the time for joy. Joy as we gather to rejoice in our incredible God --- a God who refused to turn his back on us, and refused to wash his hands of the whole affair (as Pilate did) as if to say, “It’s not my problem.” Rather he took our problems upon himself, our mistakes, our disobedience, our self-centeredness --- that is, all of our sin upon himself --- and in the process, in that saving act, he changed absolutely everything. No longer would humanity have to embrace the attitude, “Well, it’s always been this way.” Instead, he gave us the opportunity to begin down a new path, with new priorities, new purpose and new hope. Now, WE would no longer have to be who we had always been. He rose so that we can rise with him --- that is, so that we can experience an Easter for each Good Friday we are faced with. Even the Good Friday we will experience at the end of our lives is not the end of the story. Something more beautiful awaits. The empty tomb assures us of that. In one sense this incredible loving act came to us completely from the outside, from the utter graciousness of God. God redeems. God saves. God destroyed death forever. And we will forever be unable to be thankful enough for it. And in no way will we ever be able to repay it. That’s simply impossible. That is the God we have! But make no mistake about it, although salvation came from without, from “beyond” so-to-speak, it was won from within --- won by Jesus --- our God who entered our world the first Christmas in a profound and humble and concrete way. And that should tell us something. You see, God didn’t just “wave his hand” (figuratively) and make things better (although he certainly could have). No, this was an “inside” job. And that’s partly because God had to make sure we know just how much we are loved, make sure we know how precious we are in his eyes, make sure we know that we are not forgotten, and make sure we know that we don’t have to make this journey alone. Our God will always be making this journey with us, if we let Him. Our God will always be by our side and within our hearts --- guiding us and comforting us. And our God will always give us chance after chance after chance --- forgiving us and picking us up and drying our tears and pointing us in the right direction again and again and again. Put simply --- Jesus’ saving act might have been a once-in-history moment. That is true. He reconciled us to the Father in a way we could never do on our own. But the power of that act is not a singular kind of thing. Rather, it’s meant to be a day-after-day, year-after-year, generation-after-generation transformation of each and every human soul open to the power of it, the transformation of each and every human heart. In a very real sense, Jesus died to make each of us different --- truly different --- more alive, more loving, more connected --- that is, bring us into true “communion” with our loving God. Are we? That’s really the challenge of this holy day. Yes --- today is a day to rejoice. Absolutely. Yes --- today is a day to give our deepest and most sincere thanks. Yes --- today is a day to be filled with hope and optimism. Yes --- Easter is a time to gather with family and friends and eat great food and hunt for Easter eggs and eat a year’s worth of candy in one day. But it’s also a time to reflect --- reflect on the ways we will choose to respond (or not respond) to what we believe in faith, choose to respond (or not respond) in love to our God who has loved us completely. Will we reach out to others the way God reached out to us? Will we find ways to “lay down our lives”, as Jesus did? Will we forgive the things that seem unforgivable? Will we refuse to pursue revenge, refuse to answer violence with violence? Will we be truly generous, with our time, our gifts, our resources or will we simply give from our leftovers? Put simply --- will we faithfully love? Jesus laid down his life, in love for us. And he did it to show us that we become truly alive, when we lay down our lives for him and others. Challenge of Easter is to not just simply say “thanks” today and go back to doing things the way we’ve always done them thus making the death and resurrection of Jesus not mean very much. Rather, as people redeemed, we give thanks the only way that truly matters --- by more completely dedicating our lives to Jesus, by striving to be faithful, active, committed, loving Disciples, by worshiping God with heart, mind, soul. Jesus is risen! How can we, by our lives, live in such a way… that we boldly show the world - that Jesus has risen in us?

Parents teach their children. You parents out there know this is the case. And these “teachings” can be for good or for bad, helpful or hurtful. Some are taught deliberately --- through tasks, lectures and smart discipline. Other things get “taught” because, as you know, kids are sponges and mimic the behaviors of adults around them. Of course, every adult here was a child once, and almost always sees things in themselves that they first saw in their parents. Even in matters of faith the Church asserts that parents are truly the ones who bear the first responsibility to make sure what they believe gets passed on to their sons and daughters. The baptismal rite says as much. Yes, parents explicitly and implicitly and sometimes even accidentally teach their sons and daughters all sorts of things. Now, I want all of you parents out there to consider one particular question for a second. If you could have your children remember only one thing from all the hundreds, maybe thousands of things you have taught them over their lifetimes, what would that one thing be? That’s not an easy question, is it? What is most important for them to remember? I’m guessing that if I asked a hundred of you that question - I’d get at least eighty different answers. And that’s ok. We’re not all the same, nor are our children all the same. We just heard a passage from John’s Gospel that shows Jesus in this very predicament, in this very situation. Jesus knows that his death is near. And he is in the presence of his best friends, the ones who have been by his side for several years --- listening to him, watching the things he did traveling about from town to town. And there was a lot packed into a short time. The stories. The miracles. The explanations. The scolding of the self-righteous. The demonstrations of mercy and compassion and forgiveness and kindness. The reaching out to those on the margins. He had TAUGHT them a lot (through word and deed). And now, it was sort of coming to the end. And Jesus only has time to remind them of one teaching, one lesson, one thing that he wanted to make sure they understood and that they would never forget. And so he washes their feet. And tells them they must do the same. His last wish. At least this is what John chooses to include in his depiction of that fateful night. The other three Gospel writers, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, don’t include this detail. Rather, they describe at length the sacred meal that took place (which John chose to omit). And so, it might seem that Jesus was actually teaching them two things that night, two final wishes, two teachings that were meant to stand in a place of importance in the hearts and minds of those who called Jesus friend, brother, Lord. But are they really two? Two different teachings? For many of the faithful tonight’s Liturgy is sort of their personal “favorite” of the entire Church year. It really is quite beautiful and meaningful. So many “Catholic” things on display. So many feelings and emotions. So many profound things to contemplate and be grateful for. It really is such a special night. And the two pillars it rests on, are Eucharist (and the ordained priesthood that is intimately linked to it) and the washing of feet. And the amazing thing is, they aren’t separate at all. They are simply two essential parts of what it means to authentically embrace our faith, two parts of what it means to be a true Catholic, a true Christian, a true disciple of Jesus. Put simply --- we share in the one so that we can do the other, RECEIVE Jesus so that we can BE Jesus, turn to God for strength and nourishment and guidance and inspiration and forgiveness --- that is, for true communion --- so we can bring those very things to others, do those very things for others, BE those very things for others. In other words --- what we do around the Sacred Altar, who we receive in this holy meal, is not to be seen in some sort of isolation, as some kind of spiritual gift we “get” for ourselves and cling to tightly. Rather, the Eucharist is meant to transform us, help us actually become the One whom we receive. That means that if we come before the altar time and time again but never wash the feet of others --- never care for our brothers and sisters --- then God will not have achieved in us and through us what he wants to achieve. Rather, what was meant to be a channel of grace has become an obstacle, what was meant to be life-giving has been anything but, what was meant to be shared has been hidden away. That’s the challenge of this holy night --- to take all our gratitude and pay it forward through acts of love, take this heavenly, divine, food into our bodies and hearts and minds so that we can be more beautiful than we were yesterday, more merciful than we were yesterday, more compassionate and forgiving and generous than we were yesterday. And so, every time we share in the communion of Jesus may we not forget that that’s only part of what God the Father calls us to. The other part --- that’s up to us the moment we walk out the door into the world --- a world in desperate need of Jesus. The amazing thing is that the ones called and sent on this mission, are you and me. And God never wants us, his children, to forget that.

The body content of your post goes here. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.

5th Sunday of Lent, The Third Scrutiny Yr. A Ref.: Jn. 11:1-44 Humanity in his tears Mar. 21/ 22, 2026 Dcn. Bill Kenney One of the most revered stigmatists and mystics of the 20th century was St. Padre Pio, an Italian Capuchin priest. Last October we made a pilgrimage to San Giovani Rotondo, Italy to view his body lying there in- state. He professed that, “tears are the work of God in you," suggesting their divine origin and power to irrigate the stirrings of our hearts. Our tears can be understood as a gift from the Holy Spirit uniting our suffering with the sufferings of Christ for personal sanctification. Babies spontaneously cry for all sorts of reasons. As we grow older, it’s not possible, nor should we try, to hold back the tears of joy at births and happiness at weddings or tears of mourning at death and distress at illness. There’s every occasion to cry at a good book, movie or song. Deep emotional tearing is uniquely human amongst God’s creation. It expresses our solidarity for God’s will to be done in and through us. Created in the image and likeness of God, we are called to be like Jesus Christ in both his humanity and his divinity. Through his incarnation, Jesus is fully man and fully God. We often focus our thoughts and prayers of Jesus on his divinity. The awesome power and wonder of Jesus’ miracles, or signs pointing to a divine grace, certainly capture our attention. The raising of Lazarus, pointing to Jesus’ and our own resurrection, is a prime example. Arguably, one of his greatest miracles, the power of Jesus’ divinity is on full display to mournful onlookers, as Jesus, speaking to the Father says, “…I have said this, that they may believe that you sent me.” We adore and praise his divinity. “And Jesus wept” is one of the shortest verses in the Bible, yet it is lengthy in meaning and symbolism. Jesus’ humanity is perhaps no better expressed than in this verse. It expresses the anguish Jesus felt over the pain and sorrow his friends Mary, Martha, and others, were suffering at the death of Lazarus. To "weep" often implies a prolonged and impassioned deep grief. Jesus wept for love of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary and knew what he was going to do. Have you ever felt the peace and consolation that God had heard and answered your prayers through your weeping? Throughout his Gospel, John identifies the divinity of Jesus- his oneness with and in God; from the beginning, the Word. St. Martha proclaims Jesus as, “…the Messiah, the Son God”. Yet, John is also careful to insist that Jesus is at the same time completely human. As a human person, Jesus loves, weeps, feels fatigue and anguish, gets suspicious and perturbed; he thirsts, walks, sleeps, hungers, prays, and most notably, dies a most agonizing human death. All these references to Jesus’ humanity tell us he can relate with our daily struggles: our weaknesses and temptations and can deliver us from them as our redeemer and Savior. How does having an all-powerful divine Savior who lived as we live, except in sin, help you to realize a more personal relationship with him? Each time we partake of the true presence of his body and blood in the holy Eucharist, we grow in the humanity and divinity of Jesus. We softly pray during the preparation of the gifts, “By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.” The Eucharist is a lasting remedy for our body and soul to become more like Christ. During our earthly pilgrimage, we live in a “valley of tears” where we continue to shed tears of joy and sorrow. May we one day rise to new life in Jesus’ Kingdom following the Paschal Mystery of his divine Passion, death, and resurrection. May we one day share his heavenly banquet, where, “ He will wipe every tear from our eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away.” May we, especially our OCIA Elect, “Come out” as Lazarus did, to the calling of our Lord to new life this Easter, recognizing his divinity and humanity in our lives, for our salvation and for the glory of God.

Lift the fog to see the Light