In the backyard of the house where I live with other priests, there is a lemon tree which produces a huge amount of fruit. One evening in the spring I needed some lemons for a chicken dish. I glanced from the kitchen and saw the tree bursting with large, bright, gorgeous lemons, hanging thick on seemingly every branch. Turning to Fr. Bob (I’ll change his name to protect the innocent) who sat on the couch, I said, “Father, could you pick a few lemons for me?” He said sure and into the backyard he went. He returned a few minutes later empty-handed. “John, there’s no lemons. Sorry.” I said, “What are you talking about?”

Years ago, a woman at daily Mass approached me in the communion procession. She had her arms crossed, indicating she wanted blessing instead of the Sacred Host. She had tears in her eyes. gave her little blessing. She returned the next day. And the next. The same thing repeated. After few weeks, asked her why she didn't receive Holy Communion. She said she wasn't Catholic yet and was preparing to become so. asked her why she wanted to be Catholic. She said, "Because long to be in a real communion with Christ and with everyone love." That, submit, is a darn good reason. few months later, she became Catholic and received the Body and Blood of Christ with unspeakably great joy and still does to this day.

Soren Kierkegaard reminds us that life is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced. The same can be said about God. God, who is the Mystery of mysteries, may be beyond our intellectual comprehension but not beyond our experience. Were our human minds really capable of knowing the true essence and depth of God, we would then be “equal” to God and as superior as He is.

When I was in middle school, there were times I didn’t want my fellow students to see my parents drop me off or pick me up in the school parking lot. I was embarrassed of my parents. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was our station wagon. Or I didn’t want to look like a little kid. But in retrospect that was a silly thing to do. I was a kid. And I had two parents who loved me and had built a wonderful family. I was afraid of the other kids’ judgment. How silly! I should have been afraid of forgetting or downplaying my family, which is where my identity had its deep roots.

One of the most powerful symbols used to describe the Holy Spirit is fire. It is the reason why we wear red on Pentecost. By depicting the Holy Spirit as fire, the Scriptures teach us about the effects that he has on the lives of believers. Like fire, the Holy Spirit transforms us, purifies us, and sets us aflame with love of God.

For my 40th birthday, I wished only for a fancy pedicure — a real indulgent one complete with a massage where I could relax and escape the stress of life. On my way to the appointment, I stopped for a coffee and, while in line, this nudge to be open to sharing my faith if the opportunity arose stirred in my heart.

How familiar are we with God’s Presence in our lives … I mean, really?!?! We say that we are because that’s the right answer to the question.

Recently, I came across a story of an old man dying of cancer.

“The old man’s daughter had asked the local priest to come and pray with her father. When the priest arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.

I consider myself to be something of a connoisseur of kitschy Catholic magnets.Having had the good fortune, in my lifetime, to spend a considerable amount of time in the kitchens of the elderly faithful, I’ve seen it all. The silhouette of a Rosary with the caption “Call your mother — she’s waiting to hear from you.” A nativity tableau that reads “Every family needs a stable foundation.” The classic “WWJD” — a real ecumenical gem, it’s a favorite across all denominations.

In his message for the 50th World Day of Prayer for Vocations (which is celebrated each year on the 4th Sunday of Easter) Pope Benedict XVI observed, “Hope is the expectation of something positive in the future, yet at the same time it must sustain our present existence, which is often marked by dissatisfaction and failures … To have hope, therefore, is the equivalent of trusting in God who is faithful, who keeps the promises of the covenant.”

I always feel a little sad when someone begins to speak to me with the words, “Father, I know you’re so busy, but …” It happens a lot. And I get it. He or she is trying to be respectful of my time. But it saddens me because a priest makes Jesus present to people in a special way, and Jesus always has time for us. Don’t we all feel at times that God just doesn’t have time for us?

Nonsense. Just look at the stunning “Road to Emmaus” story we hear this week. It’s the day Jesus rose from the dead. And the Risen One appears in disguise to two disciples. He walks with them, chats with them, and eventually eats with them. It could have been hours he spends with them — two unnamed persons — in the middle of nowhere. On the day he rose from the dead!

On Divine Mercy Sunday, Jesus reveals the good news of his mercy and invites us to trust in him.

Between 1931 and 1938, Jesus appeared in Poland to Sister Faustina Kowalska revealing to her that he wanted her to tell the whole world how much he wanted to show mercy to sinners. At the urging of her superiors, Sister Faustina kept a diary of her conversations with our Lord which was eventually published under the title, Divine Mercy in My Soul.

People want proof. Blind faith can be challenging, however, we know it is not only possible but actually a gift of great grace. One which, as Jesus tells the Apostle Thomas, blesses those who are able to believe without seeing (John 20:29). Yet, Jesus does wish us to see and believe and offers signs — moments that go beyond the miraculous to reveal something about who he truly is. There are seven signs in John’s Gospel. The Resurrection is the seventh. But where’s the proof? What can we see in today’s Gospel that offers irrefutable evidence as to Jesus’ resurrection versus an abduction of the body? 

The African American spiritual, “Were You There?” is deeply moving and widely used especially at this time in the liturgical year. We’ve heard it so often in churches over the years, but I fear that some (perhaps even me) have lost touch with the meaning behind this spiritual. We will participate venerating the cross during the Good Friday liturgy, but I fear that others (perhaps me included) may have fallen into the mechanics of the ritual without heartfully reflecting on the deeply piercing question from the song, “were you there?”