The celebration of the Ascension of our Lord occurs distinctively this year, when the two most detailed descriptions of the event, both written by Luke the evangelist, are brought together in today’s readings. We hear both the concluding verses from Luke’s Gospel, the first volume of his work, and the first verses of Acts, his second volume. For Luke, the Ascension is the hinge of his two-volume work. The evangelist apparently thought the story of the Ascension was important enough to tell twice.

The sixth Sunday of Easter moves us toward the feast of Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit to the early Church. Today’s Gospel describes Jesus at the Last Supper, foretelling the coming of the Spirit to the community of Jesus. Jesus combines the promise of the Spirit with his gift of peace to his disciples. He foresees that the community must be grounded in his love, which provides peace, to face the tumult of the Crucifixion, and later, the trials of the early Church.

In the first sentence of today’s Gospel passage from John, Jesus’ address at the Last Supper, the words “glorify” or “glorified” appear five times. For John, glory has to do with honor and reputation, the primary characteristic of a person. John thus invites us to reflect upon what God's glory fully means. God is glorified when God's truest nature is revealed, as the God who loves.

In the time of Jesus, when multiple flocks of sheep would be gathered, protecting the flock depended heavily on the shepherd’s personal recognition of individual sheep, by sight and sound. In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses this imagery to speak of how Jesus — with the Father — protects those whom God loves —that is, everyone. Forces that pull us away from God are ultimately no match for the fierce love that God has for us.

The Easter season provides us an opportunity to reflect upon who we are as Church, in light of the first experiences of Jesus’ followers. From today’s Gospel, we realize that all we do is founded on our friendship with and trust in Jesus, as witnessed in Jesus’ dialogue with Peter. From Revelation, in the image of Jesus as the sacrificial Lamb, we can anticipate suffering for the sake of love for God and for others.

In Jesus’ first appearance to his disciples, as described in today’s Gospel, Jesus sends the disciples, and all who follow him: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Jesus speaks to us here: we the Church are a “sent people,” sent to participate in God’s mission, that is, God’s purposes and activity for all of humanity. Like Jesus was sent to Israel, we are sent to witness to our world of the boundless love of God, and to offer an alternative way of living based on that love.

The story of Easter reveals that the world has begun a new day. The darkness of the Crucifixion has opened into the light of Easter. Like the dawn that gradually opened to the disciples on the first Easter morning, we slowly begin to see what the light of faith reveals. Death will not have the final word, because Christ is risen and we will share in his resurrection. Injustice and suffering will not continue forever, because God’s victory over sin has begun, and will be completed when Christ returns.

One of the best ways to remember something truly important is to set it to music. It can be easily recalled and sung by heart and passed on. As you focus on the scriptures for Palm Sunday, it might be helpful to think of them as past, present, and future versions of the same story. In Isaiah, we hear one of four hymns referring to the “Suffering Servant” that paints a poignant picture prefiguring Jesus’ crucifixion.

Isaiah prophesies for the Lord: “Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new!” One of the most dangerous things that we can do is get stuck in our old ways. As individuals, as parishes, as I nations we can say, “We’ve always done it that way,” and miss calls to growth and change. Throughout this Lent and our lives, God continues to call us to life, and we should celebrate that!

Who knew that when Moses led the Israelites out of slavery it would mean forty years of wandering in the desert before they were able to enter the Promised Land? Many of us experience periods of wandering in our life. Perhaps we made some poor judgment calls in our younger days, or maybe as adult children we returned home to live because of struggling with substance abuse, or unemployment, or a divorce. Or maybe we fell away from Church for a bit. This is nothing new.

Elizabeth Barret Browning wrote, “Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God, But only he who sees, takes off his shoes; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.” We are challenged today to experience the mystery of God with the image of Moses and the burning bush—a God who answers all questions in a simple, bold manner. Like an exasperated parent telling a child “Because I said so,” God tells Moses “I am who I am,” and “tell the Israelites I AM sent me to you.” God may as well have said, “Save all your questions, and trust in me. Quit being so stubborn.”

We can imagine the splendor of the Transfiguration in our Gospel, and in a manner similar to the Baptism of the Lord, we hear the voice of God booming down announcing Jesus the Son. It is another of the great epiphanies. But if you think about it, each reading this weekend has a sort of “Aha” moment to it. A moment of mutual commitment, of trust. In Genesis, God makes a covenant with Abram, promising him descendants numerous as the stars in the sky.

Face it, the last couple of years have worn us all down. Sometimes we don’t know how to pray, or we don’t seem to find the words we want. It is easy to falter and waver. Lent is a time to get back to the basics. There is much hope and strength in our readings as we begin our Lenten journey. The letter to the Romans tells us today that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved,” and this is an idea we hear throughout the scriptures.