May 17, 2026

Solemnity of the Ascension . . .

Karla Keppel

God who nudges us  ------

https://www.catholicwomenpreach.org/preaching/05172026

“Come on…let’s just do it…What’s the worst that could happen!? Go big or go-home, right?!”

Probably, every group of humans since the beginning of time has had that person who enables the rest. The one who lovingly convinces you, talks you into doing things you might never have dreamed of or even considered otherwise. A risk taker. A person always willing to go on an adventure, willing to try new things.

Maybe you’re thinking of a person in your life who is like that.

Maybe that person, is you?

That person is NOT me. Risk…makes me nervous.

If left to my own devices, I’m probably NOT going to go out on a limb.

If left to my own devices, I’m probably going to choose the “safer” path.

If left to my own devices, I’ll be off to the sidelines, looking on…

Or, like the disciples, looking up: watching…

As they bore witness to Jesus’s Ascension into heaven, scripture tells us very little of the feelings the disciples might have been experiencing as it happened. We hear them being told to “GO–” “Go and make disciples of all nations.” And we hear–quite poetically–of all the ways that God calls us to care for and be with one another as we build God’s Reign together...

…but we don’t get much intel on how they feel about it all. The closest we get is, “When they saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted.”

“...they worshiped, but they doubted” (Matthew 28:17).

Because, for some of us, being left to our own devices is overwhelming!

Even for the disciples, they found themselves back in the Upper Room immediately after Jesus ascends (Acts 1:13).

I imagine myself among them: the depths of the pain and fear we have experienced together, and the height of our shared joy at Jesus’s resurrection. We’ve been through ALOT, y’all.

Today, too, in 2026, we are still going through ALOT.

And here we are, left to our own devices. Jesus ascends into heaven…and now what?

I imagine myself among the disciples, and can’t help but wonder: are any of them like me?

Surely, we know there are at least a few go-getters, the risk takers who invite us to “Go big or go home.” But there are probably a few like me, too, who need a nudge; who need someone to lovingly invite them into that which is greater, that which is beyond what they can imagine.

In the first reading we hear:

“While they were looking intently at the sky as he was going, suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them. They said, “Men/People of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?” (Acts 1:10-11)

…sounds like a nudge to me.

I am not a risk taker, but because I’ve learned over time, I know well the value, benefit, and the sheer joy that becomes possible when I let myself be nudged out of my comfort zone.

When I shift my eyes from the heavens to the glory of God’s creation around me, when I go out on a limb and dare to take the risk of being the bridge-builder that authentic discipleship calls each of us to, I am actively engaged in the glory of God.

Now, it’s probably not two men dressed in white garments. In fact, for me, it's usually my spouse, dear friends, my kids, my mom even, who remind me often and with love, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Sometimes, even more audaciously: “What’s the best that could happen?”

Because when we let ourselves be nudged out of our comfort zones, we open ourselves to the very best God has to offer us. We open ourselves to the possibility of connection, of community, of building the Reign of God in real time with real people who are in desperate, desperate, need of hope.

Our world and our communities are utterly ravaged by violence of all kinds, and we KNOW we must “Go out and make disciples.”. We must let our lives bear witness to the kindness and mercy of God. In many places, in these days ravaged by unrest and lack of peace, it is in fact a matter of life and death that we extend that kindness and mercy.

We must “go out and make disciples.”

…But also, maybe you need a nudge. Someone to say, “What’s the best that could happen?”; to remind you that joy is always an option; to remind you that we need not have the full plan to take the first step.

We don’t need to solve war or world hunger—not on our own at least. We need only to extend peace to the neighbor who is different or offer a protein bar to a friend on the side of the highway.

Next week, at Pentecost, with the arrival of the Holy Spirit, we receive the ultimate nudge out of our Upper Rooms.  This week, we learn to how live into our vocation as one of God’s chosen disciples, live into the invitation to be the truest, and most authentic versions of ourselves.

If you are ready: AMAZING. How are you inviting those around you who might need a nudge?

If not, what’s holding you back? What small steps can you take toward joy?

How are we living out our own calls to discipleship?

However it feels for you, be it scary or exciting, I hope you’ll be attentive to the nudge: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations …”

And remember, too, that we are not alone in it:

“And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age” (Matthew 28:19-20).

 

Ascension . . .

 

 

In The Leaving

 

In the leaving,

in the letting go,

let there be this

to hold onto

at the last:

 

the enduring of love,

the persisting of hope,

the remembering of joy,

 

the offering of gratitude,

the receiving of grace,

the blessing of peace.

Author: Jan Richardson

https://www.janrichardson.com/

A Heavenly Uprising!

 

Ascensions into heaven are like falling leaves, sad and happy all at the same time. Going away isn't really sad, especially when your going enables a new kind of presence to be born.

Long have the leaves known the trees. They've danced together in the wind days upon days. But now, growing older and wiser, they know they can’t cling to the trees forever. And so they say good-bye falling to the ground waiting for the mystery of death to transform them into nourishment for the earth.

And the trees? They stand alone for one short season but they are at peace, waiting for another mystery to enfold them with its presence.

When I saw you leaving I covered my face with my heart. Oh, the ache of letting go. But then I remembered the trees and so I stood in peace remembering your return.

When you come back, we will be new for each other, much will have happened in our lives. There will be more for each of us to love, more for each of us to know. The Spirit will have  left a footprint in our lives, and we will be excited like a new leaf come home to a tree! 

(From: Seasons of Your Heart by Macrina Wiederkehr)

Being the Reason for your Hope:

 

                          

The Sixth Sunday of Easter 2026 

May 10, 2026

www.johnpredmoresj.com  | predmore.blogspot.com

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

www.johnpredmoresj.com | predmore.blogspot.com

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,”