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?”

And Jesus wept.” — John 11:35

It strikes me every time I read the story of Lazarus’ resurrection. Of all the amazing and surprising things to occur in this Gospel passage — dead man walking! (well, dead man hopping, really) — it is this small detail that never fails to catch my eye, never fails to compel me and confound me.

For those involved parish faith formation, the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Sundays of Lent are, in many ways, among the most important celebrations of the entire year. These are the Sundays of the Scrutinies, ancient and meaningful rituals that are an essential part of the OCIA (the Order of Christian Initiation of Adults, also known as the RCIA).

It all really boils down to whether we believe the Lord is in our midst. A simple response of “yes” creates the seedbed for faith and paves the way for dismantling some of the illusions we desperately cling to. We harbor illusions that inhibit our pathways not only to God but to one another. Illusions of separateness, superiority, and self-sufficiency are but a few. We all too easily forget what water we need to drink, where to find God’s presence, what we need to grow in faith, and how God acts in the lives of those he loves.

In today's Gospel, Jesus leads Peter, James, and John up a mountain and reveals to them his glory as the only Son of the Father. They had already come to believe in him because of his words and miracles. In the previous chapter of Matthew's gospel, Peter had made his profession of faith that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God. This, now, was an opportunity to see for themselves the divine glory of Jesus hidden in his humanity.

The Spirit leads Jesus into the desert to be tempted by the devil, and we hear this: “He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was hungry.” Seems like a questionable battle preparation plan. When I fast, I usually feel grouchy at best, and at worst, like I might pass out from longing for a hamburger. Isn’t it better to be well-fed and fully hydrated, especially to face spiritual struggles? Why fast?

Of all the things Jesus says which seem totally bat-crazy, this one might take the cake: “But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” An enemy is someone who desires the destruction of you, your projects, or those you care about. To love and pray for them is to want their health, strength, and flourishing. But if they thrive, they are more likely to hurt you and others. So, aren’t you indirectly willing your own destruction, or that of your friends? If you doubt that this problem is embedded in this teaching, when was the last time you actually prayed honestly for the people you really hate?

It’s often said that the Catholic Church lays heavy rules on her members, rules that can almost seem impossible. Mass every Sunday? No lying ever? Sexual purity all the time? I recently said to some non-Catholic friends that more than fifty adults were baptized at my parish at the Easter Vigil. One responded spontaneously with shock, “Why would anyone do that?” In other words, why would someone willingly place themselves in a system with such demanding and rigorous rules?