Being the Reason for your Hope:

 

                          

The Sixth Sunday of Easter 2026 

May 10, 2026

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Acts 8:5-17; Psalm 66; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21

 

The readings let us know of the coming and power of the Holy Spirit. It is easy for us to dismiss the significance of the conversion of the Samaritans. This was a major event for they were a people at odds with the Jews from earliest days. Philip showed great courage to go to a hostile land to bring the message of Jesus, and it was astonishing that they said “yes.” We have to realize the Holy Spirit is at work in places that we do not see. This is one reason Popes Francis and Leo asked Jesuits to go to the frontiers.

 

In the second reading, Saint Peter tells people to “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for the reason for your hope…” Let us keep in mind an important subtlety. It is in your being. It is in the way you live your life. It is not what you say but how you are that invites people to ask this question of you. In other words, they are asking, "Why are you happy? How can I trust in God like you do?" “What is it that you see and know because I want what you have.”

 

It is important for us to realize that the answer is not in what we say. It is not what we assert as our ideas and opinions. It is the way you encourage trust and give people space to be natural around you. Your way of being tells people that they are heard in your presence, even before they speak. 

 

The Church today is evolving its style of being. Priests, pastors, and laypeople must be able to receive the questions, struggles, tensions and objectives of others. They have to be able to receive each other with gentleness and reverence. We sometimes see differences in parish styles. Some pastors create an atmosphere of collaboration and stewardship while others create a version of worship and liturgy that represents their particular belief system. To an observer, one way seems open and the other closed.

 

The Church's adopted style is one of listening. The proclamation of the Gospel cannot be done without hearing. Real dialogue is not being silent and waiting until it is your turn to speak; Real dialogue allows you to be changed by what you hear. To become a church known for gentleness and reverence, as Peter suggests, means showing real strength. Some see gentleness as meekness or being weak. It is a power whose strength is realized at a later time. Being gentle suggests restraints where a person holds back the impulse to correct, to fix, or to win. Being reverent suggests seeing the person in front of you as a saint and a holy person of dignity. We are able to see each person's story as unique, interesting, and surprising even with one's suffering and wounds. We cannot be Church unless we approach each other without gentleness and reverence because we may be in a position to speak about Christ without knowing who he is. Our role is to reflect the Christ who is within me to another person. 

 

What if we approached one another with curiosity, discovery, and adventure. We then do not start from a position of defense, but one of engagements. We say: Tell me about yourself. Help me understand who you are and what you have experienced. This is a type of listening that strengthens faith and gives is credibility.

 

The Church gives reasons for hope not only by speaking authoritatively, but by listening deeply. When we listen with gentleness and reverence, we make space for Christ—who is always already in dialogue with every human heart, desiring to explore more deeply, and longing to rejoice in what God is doing with your soul.

 

A Courageous Mother . . .

 

‘If I Had My Life to Live Over’ by Erma Bombeck

(Written after she found out she was dying from cancer)

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day

because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I love you’s.” More “I’m sorry’s.”

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it, live it and never give it back.

Erma Bombeck (1927-1996)

 

 

The Secret Recipe

 

(In honor of Mother’s Day – U.S.A)

When God created mothers, it was well into overtime on the sixth day. An angel dropped by and commented, ‘God, you are taking your time over this creature!’

God replied, ‘You should see the special requirements in the specification! She has to be easy to maintain, but not made of plastic or have any artificial components. She has one hundred and sixty movable parts, and nerves of steel, with a lap big enough for ten children to sit on it at once, but she herself has to be able to fit into a kiddies’ chair. She has to have a back that can carry everything that is loaded onto it. She has to be able to mend everything, from a grazed knee to a broken heart. And she’s supposed to have six pairs of hands’

The angel shook her head. ‘Six pairs of hands? No way!’ ‘The hands are easy,’ God said. ‘But I’m still working on the three pairs of eyes that she needs.’ ‘Is this the standard model?’ the angel asked.

God nodded: ‘Oh, yes. One pair to look through closed doors, while she asks, “What are you doing?” even though she already knows the answer. A second pair at the back of her head, to see what she’s not meant to see, but needs to know about. And, of course, the pair at the front that can look at her child, let him know that he is misbehaving and had better change his ways, while at the same time letting him see how much she loves and understands him.’

‘I think you should go to bed now, God, and get some sleep,’ said the angel. ‘I can’t do that,’ said God. ‘I’m almost there. I have nearly created a being who heals herself when she’s ill, who can delight thirty children with one little birthday cake, who can persuade a three-year-old to use his feet to walk and not to kick.’

The angel walked slowly around the prototype Mother. ‘It’s too soft,’ she said. ‘But tough,’ God retorted. ‘You wouldn't believe the wear and tear this Mother will tolerate.’

‘Can she think?’ asked the angel. ‘Not only think, but reach wise judgments and essential compromises,’ said God. ‘And she can do more than that. She can forget!’

Finally, the angel ran her finger across the model’s cheek. ‘There’s a leak,’ she said. ‘I warned you that you were trying to get too much into her.’

‘That’s not a leak,’ said God. ‘That’s a tear.’ ‘What’s that for?’ asked the angel. ‘It flows whenever she feels joy or grief, disappointment or pride, pain or loneliness, or the depths of love.’

‘You’re a genius,’ said the angel. God looked again at this work of art, with pleasure and pride. ‘The tear,’ God said, ‘is her overflow valve.’                            (Source Unknown)

The God of Spacious Hospitality:

 

The Fifth Sunday of Easter 2026 

May 3, 2026

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Acts 6:1-7; Psalm 33; 1 Peter 2:4-9; John 14:1-12

 

The comforting Gospel passage is one used for many funerals because it reminds us that we each have a place in God’s world. We can retain our full human identity and still be known to God and others in the expansive world that is to come. The passage tells us: We belong. We are a child of God and known to God. It also reminds us that even if we do not think we know the way, God remembers us and gives us spacious hospitality.

 

The idea of being with God with many dwelling places serves as an example of the hospitality we are to extend to one another here on Earth. We have a really big God and we have to grow into this larger image of God. Much of our prayer language has focused upon the Christ who ‘was,’ that is Jesus of Nazareth. We return to ancient Scripture for understanding and guidance, and we can lose sight of the Christ who ‘is’ – the Christ who ‘is’ today and the Christ who is ‘up ahead of us.’ The cosmic ‘Body of Christ,’ of which you are a part, has been evolving in size and consciousness for over 2,000 years. 

 

When we realize we are part of this large community of faith, our mindset shifts from one that is restrictive to one that his more open and inclusive. Even if we have a small faith, we have a big God. Through our partaking of the Eucharist, we are moved to see this God of airy hospitality. Together, we move toward a broader and more comprehensive way of thinking and perceiving. Our capacity for compassion and empathy increases. 

 

Our prayer life can no longer be about self-improvement or of a ‘Jesus and me’ experience. I can no longer be self-focused or self-enclosed because, as a community, we develop a collective spiritual life. Our spiritual life is always based on being part of a community. We think and feel and move as the “Body of Christ.” We begin to see ourselves no longer as individuals living separate lives. Through the Resurrection, we are new creations and part of something much greater. 

 

As part of our Eucharist and our life of faith, we are called to take on a higher way of thinking. We hear this on Easter Sunday in Colossians 3 when Paul exhorts us with these words, “If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.” Our work in this life is to realize that our inhibitions, indoctrinations, and habits prevent us from recognizing God’s presence among us. This awareness of what holds us back is crucial for taking down those formidable barriers, for those deeply entrenched illusions. Our transformation leads to an evolution to a more complex structure, to a higher way of thinking, to a reality in which there are more dwelling places that we imagine possible.

 

This passage is certainly comfortable for funerals, but it means so much more. It is meant for ‘now.’ It is meant that we may experience the fullness of life today. What is salvation but the permission to “enjoy the fullness of life” during life on earth as it will continue to grow consciously forever with God in heaven, in those many dwelling places. This is a God who gives us such space to pass onto others what we receive – a generous hospitality where all are welcome, where all belong, because this big God says, “Todos, Todos, Todos,” 

 

 

Feast of Joseph the Worker . . .

 

Feast of St. Joseph the Worker . . .

Prayer: 

Blessed are you, Creator God, who enhances our lives with work
For the gift of work, we are grateful.
We are thankful for the dignity 
and creative challenge of our unique tasks. 

Blessed are you, Creator God, who enhances our lives with work
For the work that ennobles us, that lifts up our spirits, we are grateful.
By means of these labors, 
we are able to give flesh to our spiritual dreams
and to work out the salvation of the earth.

Blessed are you, Creator God, who enhances our lives with work
Help us, Creator God, to use the work of this day –
to perform it with mindfulness and attention, 
with care and devotion –
that it will be holy and healing
for us and for all the earth.

Blessed are you, Creator God, who enhances our lives with work. 
‍ ‍Prayers for the Domestic Church, Edward Hayes,

The Crossing Place . . .

 

TRASNA

The pilgrims paused on the ancient stones
In the mountain gap.

Behind them stretched the roadway they had travelled.
Ahead, mist hid the track.

Unspoken the question hovered:
Why go on? Is life not short enough?

Why seek to pierce its mystery?
Why venture further on strange paths, risking all?

Surely that is a gamble for fools - or lovers.
Why not return quietly to the known road?

Why be a pilgrim still?
A voice they knew called to them, saying:

This is Trasna, the crossing place.
Choose! Go back if you must,

You will find your way easily by yesterday's fires,
there may be life in the embers yet.

If that is not your deep desire,
Stand still. Lay down your load.

Take your life firmly in your two hands,
(Gently... you are trusted with something precious)

While you search your heart's yearnings:
What am I seeking? What is my quest?

When your star rises deep within,
Trust yourself to its leading.

You will have the light for first steps.
This is Trasna, the crossing place.

Choose!
This is Trasna, the crossing place

Come !

Raphael Consedine, PBVM

 

Life's Thresholds. . .

 

“Like Spring secretly at work within the heart of Winter,
below the surface of our lives
huge changes are in fermentation.
We never suspect a thing.

Then when the grip of some
long-enduring winter mentality
begins to loosen,
we find ourselves
vulnerable
to
a
flourish
of
possibility
and we are suddenly negotiating
the challenges
of
a threshold…

At any time you can ask yourself:
At which threshold am I now standing?
At this time in my life, what am I leaving?
Where am I about to enter?

A threshold is not a simple boundary;
it is a frontier
that divides two different territories,
rhythms, and atmospheres.
Indeed, it is a lovely testimony
to the fullness and integrity
of an experience or a stage of life
that it intensifies toward the end
into a real frontier
that cannot be crossed
without
the heart being passionately
engaged
and
woken up.

At this threshold
a great complexity of emotion
comes alive:
confusion,
fear,
excitement,
sadness,
hope.
 
This is one of the reasons
such vital crossings
were always clothed in ritual.
It is wise in your own life
to be able to recognize and acknowledge
the key thresholds;
to take your time;
to feel all the varieties of presence
that accrue there;
to listen inward
with complete attention
until you hear
the inner voice
calling you
forward:
The time has come
to cross.”

John O’Donohue
From: To Bless the Space Between Us