St. Joseph Church Homily Archive

We often hear about the lives of the wealthy, not only about how they enjoy their fortunes, but where their wealth came from. Now, I have a little admiration for those who have built themselves up. I may wish for a little of what they enjoy, I may question how they use their wealth to make the world better, but I also think, “good on them for putting forth the effort, taking the risks and making the most of opportunities and talents.” But then there are those who are born into wealth, who just have it all handed to them. Since about the age of three, I've known life's not fair, but witnessing someone enjoy a great blessing of unearned wealth raises up a little envy within me. Of course, stepping back and taking look at the bigger picture reveals something a little more complex or nuanced. Stepping back reveals how each in their own way enjoy some blessings and suffer some challenges; some may be blessed with great wealth, but suffer often invisible challenges. It's why even successful and beloved celebrities may sometimes sadly take their own lives. We've been exploring how the wisdom of Jesus can simplify some of the complicated, more nuanced moments of life. His wisdom may challenge his followers, but our faith reveals how his simple wisdom gives more space for joy by alleviating those nuamced moments of life that rob time, energy and peace. We examined how the nuanced experience of being hurt by a loved one is simplified through the prompt of the Saviour to directly approach the offending individual instead of turning to gossip or insisting they be the first to approach and apologize. We considered how forgiveness simplifies, not by dismissing harm, but by honouring hurt, acknowledging how it matters, and yet declaring, ‘debt cancelled'. Everyone experiences the nuanced challenges of envy and jealousy too. A child might be jealous that an older sibling gets to stay up later. An employee may be envious when a less experienced co-worker, who just happens to be a relative of the boss, is promoted first. I know some priests have left here after a visit wondering why I deserve to serve in such a blessed community. So often, we question why some should receive great blessings in life; some seem to have it all, while we're left behind. Why can some eat anything and never get fat? Why do some seem to be constantly surrounded with friends or opportunities? Why do some get to be beautiful or rich or both? These questions easily lead to the complicated, nuanced, experiences of envy and jealousy. Now, Jealousy isn't always bad. Of course, it can lead to greed or selfishness, but not always. Combined with love, jealousy drives God to do all he can to lead his people to his Kingdom. That same combination will drive someone to do anything to make their spouse happy and keep their children safe. Jealousy can motivate a student to study hard and achieve the grade they know they're worth. Envy, however, sadness over the blessings others receive, is always bad. In the parable from today's Gospel, those who worked the hardest for God expressed the sentiment, “…These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us…”[i]. Their concern is extremely relatable; they feel things are unfair. Lust, lies, selfishness, greed and gluttony, pride, even anger: really most sin comes with some promise for at least short-term pleasure, it's what makes sin so tempting. Envy, however, is just misery from beginning to end. Because of envy, the workers from the parable were unable to find joy in the blessings they did receive. They were unable to enjoy the invitation to share in God's work or to receive their pay. Envy conspired to ruin their relationship with God, to confuse the generosity of God with injustice. Through envy, the blessings of others brings sadness, fueling the belief that their blessings takes away from your own. Through envy, God himself seems unfair, life seems empty and being a disciple seems a life of toil instead of a life of abundance. Through envy, joy is impossible to find because someone always has more; there's always someone who's traveled more, has better behaved kids, a better job, better health, better bank account, the list is endless. The envious workers from today's parable did do one thing right: they brought their concerns to God who pointed out how, regardless of how long or how hard they had worked, the blessings others received took nothing away from their own blessings. There was no injustice; they got the wage they deserved. If you find yourself filled with the misery of envy, first stop giving attention to the blessings of others. If the workers from the parable had not been stuck making comparisons with one another, they could have recognized and enjoyed their blessings. Next, gratitude can be a remedy for envy. Regularly look for God's blessings in your life, they're not always obvious, and give him thanks; maybe start a practice of saying grace before a meal. This shifts focus from others to your own relationship with God. Finally, spend time with loving friends who build up and point out the blessings of life, who offer reminders of your goodness and value. Turn to God, especially, who demonstrates just what each of us are worth to him. Rich or poor, sinner or saint, intelligent, holy or talented: it doesn't matter; to God you're worth dying for. This simplifies life, eliminates envy by removing the temptation to compare with others and to instead see how blessings aren't found in having more than others, but in being loved by the maker. With the nuances of envy eliminated, disciples find joy in the blessings others receive. With envy abolished, our eyes are opened to recognize and enjoy blessings received. Without the weight of envy, those who follow the Saviour give him praise for repeatedly inviting each to […]

Most of us want to be forgiving people, even when it's difficult to forgive. We know Jesus wants his followers to be forgiving people. We know how heavy grudges can become and long to be freed of the weight. But then we consider offences suffered and the call to forgive becomes more complicated. Forgiveness sounds simple, but there's a nuanced balance to find between letting go of hurts, seeking what's fair and keeping safe from future harm. In today's Gospel, Peter expresses the complex challenge as a question, “…how often should I forgive…”?[i] To him, it seems enough to forgive someone seven times; it does to me too: it seems generous while leaving space for justice and protection. Over the next few weeks, we're exploring how the wisdom of Jesus can simplify some of the complicated, more nuanced moments of life. His wisdom may challenge his followers, but our faith reveals how it gives more space for joy by alleviating those complex moments of life that rob time, energy and peace. Understanding the nuanced challenge, Jesus answered Peter with a parable. A man weighed down with an impossible debt is dragged before the creditor, the king. At the time, there was no option for bankruptcy; those unable to pay their debts became the property of others. The debtor knew the king wasn't unfair for seeking repayment; he begged for mercy, expecting, at best, to get a little more time. Then comes the twist: the king forgave the debt, the whole thing, no catch. The parable reveals the link between forgiveness and freedom. When someone offends or hurts another, there's a debt owed; we feel like saying, ‘they owe me!'. Maybe something's been taken, reputation harmed or trust broken; it could be anything. The offence, the hurt, creates a kind of debt. Forgiveness is the cancellation of that debt. A few things forgiveness is not: Forgiving someone doesn't mean declaring no harm was done or pretending it never happened; it doesn't excuse the harmful actions of another or make hurts disappear. Forgiving someone doesn't mean an apology isn't owed. Forgiveness acknowledges harm, asserting you are owed, but that debt, even one impossible to pay back, is canceled. God cares about forgiveness because he wants his people to be free. For the one in the wrong, forgiveness is about being freed so there's opportunity for growth; it declares that sin doesn't have to be what defines people. Through forgiveness, sin can be transformed from something that tears down into opportunity to grow. For the one injured, it's about being freed too. Returning to the parable: the servant who had been forgiven an impossibly large debt clung to an unforgiving heart. Instead of being joyful at the mercy he had received, he was consumed with what was owed to him. Dwelling on what's owed doesn't bring joy, but torment. Forgiveness, acknowledging the hurt and forgiving it, brings freedom. Now, sometimes forgiveness is extremely difficult, the hurt is so deep that cancelling the debt seems just impossible. That's okay too. God knows we have limits and when limits are encountered, disciples turn and ask God to do what we cannot. When forgiving someone seems impossible, invite God to do it. At a minimum, this act invites God into that dark place and entrusts our hurts and hearts to him. In this place we stand before our king who identifies what's owed while declaring “debt canceled.” In this place, we do the same for others; when owed much, like our Saviour we say, “debt cancelled”. In this place, Christians accept God's freedom by focusing, not on what is owed but, on what we have been given. God of mercy, we praise you for the mercy and forgiveness you have extended to us. When hurt and debts owed threaten to complicate life, guide us through your Spirit in following the example of your Son who offers freedom through forgiveness. This prayer we make in his name. Amen. [i] Matthew 18:21 NRSVCE

I like long weekends as much as anyone. But, I've never been a great fan of Labour Day weekend. As a child, I wasn't the greatest student and didn't especially look forward to school. But even today, I know that, after this weekend, life will become a little more nuanced, filled with hidden complexities. The regular meetings and school visits begin again. It will take more effort to keep on top of emails and voicemails. After this weekend many nuances, hidden complexities, will replace the slower pace of summer. Teachers return to the nuances of their work. Students resume their complex learning. Parents will be challenged with balancing schedules. Some may be called on to watch grandchildren after school. Maybe some will have to hunt for the sweaters needed for cooler weather. That's just life in general, though, it's nuanced, full of hidden complexities. Till Thanksgiving, we're going to explore Jesus' wisdom on some issues that often seem incredibly complex. The wisdom of the Saviour may be challenging, but maybe it offers ways to alleviate the complex moments of life and give more space for joy. This week we look at a very nuanced issue everyone experiences: the conflict that arises when hurt by a loved one. Today's Gospel began by naming the conflict: “If your brother or sister sins against you…”[i]. Of course, by, “…brother or sister…”, Jesus means anyone with whom we have a close relationship. It's simple, after all, to brush off the abuses of a stranger, to label and dismiss them. We all know what to do when we're in the wrong; it's a simple prompt to acknowledge the fault, apologize and make a Confession if needed. But handling hurt from a loved one is much more nuanced, carrying deeper pain. This is the friend who spoke behind your back, the sibling who never returned the borrowed money, the parent who didn't keep a promise, the spouse who kept a secret, the loved one who deeply offended you. Regardless of if it was accidental or on purpose, it hurts. It's an experience simple to name, but much more nuanced. Jesus addresses this experience with a simple first step when dealing with the nuances of hurt; when you're the one harmed, the victim, the Saviour directs, “…go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”[ii] When the natural tendency is to want the offender to step up first, to come forward and apologize, Jesus instructs his followers to instead take the first step in reconciling; and no, it's not easy or fair. It's not fair for the one hurting to be the first to offer peace. But Jesus focus, his priority, is his work of reconciliation. When his people had turned from him, God didn't wait for an apology; he sent his son to offer peace. From on the cross, Jesus didn't wait for an apology before offering forgiveness to those who put him there. After rising from the dead, Jesus didn't wait for Peter, who had denied him three times, to apologize; Jesus approached him first to reconcile. It's a pattern the Saviour models for his followers, the model he wishes disciples to follow. It is challenging to confront one who hurt. It's much easier to wait for the offender to step up first and apologize. But disciples follow a divine pattern that doesn't always seem fair or make sense; we give priority to healing division knowing there's no room in the Kingdom for divides among God's people. Now to be clear, there's no expectation for anyone to put themselves in harm's way, to take the first step in reconciling, if it means further hurt or abuse. Only make the first step for peace when it's safe to. It's also much easier to take the hurt to someone else, to anyone other than the offender, to share what happened and the injury received. Truly, it's wise to get support or advice from others when hurting, to get a different perspective, receive assurance or to vent a little. But anything beyond risks entering the territory of gossip and does nothing to address the nuances of conflict, to really reconcile or bring healing. Disciples check that conversations will actually contribute to healing rifts before sharing hurts with another. So, when hurt, disciples accept the challenging and simple wisdom of the Saviour: “…go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone.”[iii] Maybe take a moment this week to imagine the love and joy that might grow in your family if everyone lived this out. Maybe consider the peace that could develop at school or in the workplace or the friendships that might improve with neighbours. Picture a thanksgiving dinner free of nuanced, awkward, unspoken conflicts. In today's Gospel, Jesus does mention a couple additional steps in case this first one isn't successful; though, it's usually enough. Briefly though, Jesus next encourages inviting a couple others to help mediate the conflict and if that too doesn't work, to then invite God into that dark and painful divide, to pray for the offender, wish them the best and move on. Those who follow Jesus take ownership for lost and broken relationships, not because it's easy, but because it's how we share in the work of the Saviour. Truth be told, at the end of the day, it is less exhausting than holding onto grudges or talking to everyone about the problem except the one who can actually do something about it and it's healthier than clinging to resentments. Following his example, disciples work as best they can to restore relationships even when it's not their fault. We value reconciliation that much, understanding how it replaces nuanced conflicts with the simplicity of reconciliation, preparing hearts for Heaven. Father of peace and love, we praise you for inviting us into your work of reconciliation. May your Spirit direct our hearts so hurt, resentments, and rifts never distract us from witnessing and living out the example of your Son, […]

First of all, in today's Gospel, Jesus shouldn't be interpreted as being short, dismissive or rude with the Canaanite woman. Sure, when I'm tired or stressed, I can get a little irritable and possibly do or say things I later regret; no one likes having their limits exposed. But Jesus doesn't suffer from those kinds of failings. Like any of us, maybe Jesus was tired after a long day of ministering to others and teaching the disciples, but regardless of his human nature, he always responds to his people with love. His words to the Canaanite woman aren't to put her down but to teach us something about who God came for and who he works through. Many years ago, I was helping out at another Church for Christmas Eve. Though the weather was poor, the Church was, thankfully, still very full. Just before the Mass began, one individual, looking obviously frustrated from having to park far from the church and battle the weather between the car and the doors of the church, began suggesting that regular parishioners should somehow have reserved parking spots. To them it seemed unfair to have to park blocks away while many who come to worship only a couple of times a year got the best spots. They were expressing a feeling, probably a fleeting thought, that in some way their faith, which led them to participate in the Mass frequently, should somehow entitle them to special consideration above those who weren't seen at church as frequently. Developing the good habit of coming here, putting in the effort to nurture faith and live out our Baptism: it's hard work when there are so many pressures on our limited time, energy and resources. Even our faith has limits as does our understanding of God and his ways. We work hard to be disciples and it's easy to believe that God comes to us first and there is a lot of truth to that; we're a blessed people because of our faith. But that sentiment can fuel temptations to turn inwards too, to become dismissive of those who, for whatever reason, have not developed many of the good faith habits that lead us here and bring many of us great comfort. It's a temptation that's not at all new. During Jesus' ministry, questions arose about who it is the Saviour came to save, who he was calling to belong to the new Kingdom he was founding. For those Jewish people who recognized Jesus as the Messiah it was clear: they were the chosen people. It was the Jewish people who God first spoke to in their father Abraham. It was the Hebrews who God miraculously led out of slavery to the Egyptians through great signs of power, for who the Red Sea was divided and to who the Word and law of God was delivered through figures like Moses and the prophets. As for the Canaanite woman who seemed to be harassing Jesus at the beginning of today's Gospel: well, she belonged essentially to a conquered and displaced people. The Canaanites had their own cultures, customs and pagan religions. They lived in the promised land before the Jewish people arrived after their wanderings through the wilderness. In some cases, conflict arose between the arriving Jewish settlers and the Canaanites who were eventually conquered. In other cases, the Canaanites were displaced and in still other cases they were simply assimilated. The Jewish people knew they were the chosen people because of how God had guided them to the promised land. As for the Canaanites: to many it seemed as though God had no real use for those conquered and displaced pagans and this sentiment tempted the disciples to urge Jesus to send the Canaanite woman away; she was simply a nuisance. Without question, God works through disciples, but he's not limited to his disciples. The Canaanite woman may not have received the teaching the disciples had; she may not have followed Jesus so closely as they or shared their faith. But by dismissing the woman, the disciples were also dismissing the possibility of God working through her or in her heart, nearly missing opportunities to witness miracles and give God praise. Despite coming from a different place and faith, something prompted the woman to seek Jesus out. At least the seed of faith had been planted within. Yes, we praise God for the many ways he works through disciples. We honour him by venerating his saints. Disciples know we're his instruments in proclaiming the Good News and thank him for inviting us to share in that work. But we also praise God for working in unexpected places too. When parents, especially those we may not see so often, present a child for Sacraments, we praise God for planting the seed of faith in their hearts. When our church is uncomfortably full for whatever reason, we give glory to God for drawing people here. When someone is frustrating or seems a nuisance, as the Canaanite woman seemed, disciples recognize the opportunity to practice for Heaven. God works through his disciples, no question, but miracles are seen whenever God is seen at work even in unexpected people and ways. God of all creation, you not only give us life but give us purpose. Through the mysteries of this Mass, form us into true disciples. Through the sacrifices offered here, grant us the gift of salvation and through our Communion, unite us to your Son who strengthens our faith, leads us to your Kingdom and sends us out to go and make disciples of all. We offer all our prayers in his name. Amen.

One of the windows along the south side of our church features the image of a boat on stormy seas. The sky looks dark, the sail is full of wind and the waters look rough. I've been in a few storms while boating and each time was frightening in its own way. Each time, I had to take a breath and remind myself, all storms pass, all that's needed is to stay in the boat. So, today's Gospel reading, featuring Peter, who gets out of the boat during a severe storm at the command of Jesus, catches my attention as it goes against my own training and natural inclinations. Of course, literal storms out in the lake aren't the only kinds of storms I've faced. We all encounter different kinds of storms throughout life. Some maybe experience financial storms and worry about being swamped by the waves of bills and inflation. Others could be experiencing relationship storms, concerned about properly navigating the shoals of rocky relationships. Maybe battling health issues or poor workplace conditions feels like fighting against gale force winds. Storms of all kinds surround us and even though we know Our Saviour is never all that far away, sometimes the threats of the storms we face seem like impossible barriers between us and his saving power. The key to surviving all these storms is to stay in the boat. The disciples in today's Gospel were confronted by multiple storms all at once. Of course, there was the literal storm that threatened their lives. But their God given mission at Capernaum, their destination, would include other kinds of storms. Their journey across the lake would take them from the familiar territory of the Jewish people to a territory infused with Gentile cultures; on the other side, they would face not just opposing winds, but cultures completely opposed to the Good News. Internally, each of the disciples faced storms in their relationship with Jesus; instead of being comforted, the appearance of Jesus walking on the waters terrified them. They were also in the middle of stormy faith, demonstrated visibly when Peter allowed the dangers of the storm to distract him from Jesus. For the disciples to survive all these storms, they had to stay in the boat. Going back to our church window with the boat: the sail in the image is inscribed with a word, “Ecclesia”, the word for Church. The Church is the boat we're supposed to cling to when facing storms. While in the boat, Peter could trust in Jesus and hear him; but once he got out, the winds and waves distracted him and he needed rescue. When facing so many threatening storms in life, the presence and voice of God is often difficult to perceive and trusting in his power is a true challenge. Today's first reading featured Elijah who hid in a cave when the rulers threatened his life. While hiding, he could have given in to despair over his predicament. Instead, he remained in a prayerful state, he was attuned to the voice of God and could hear him in the whisper of a breeze even over the noise of fire, great winds, earthquakes and the threats against his life. Disciples know our faith doesn't spare us from the threatening storms of life. So, we come here regularly: to stay in the boat of our Church, listening for the voice of God. Outside of this place, when the threats of storms distract us from trusting in the power of The Saviour, like Peter we begin to sink. Here though, we stay in the boat of our Church; we retreat from distracting storms to focus on him and listen for the whisper of his voice. From in the boat, Peter and the disciples were attuned to the voice of Jesus. From in the boat, they could hear his voice. From in the boat of the Church, the disciples properly worshipped Jesus, professing that he is, “…the son of God.”[i]. Maybe you're lucky, you're not currently experiencing storms in your life. For disciples, that's an opportunity to worship Jesus from in the boat of our Church. Here, we praise him for his power and give him thanks for safely guiding us and guarding us. Maybe, for one reason or another, you've left the boat and the storms of life make it difficult to trust in the love and power of The Saviour. That's okay: he's never all that far. In our prayer, like Peter we call out, “Lord save me!”[ii] and allow him to lead us here. Hopefully, though, you're in the boat during the storms of life; in our Church, through prayer, scripture and especially by receiving Jesus in Communion, we remain above the waves, listening for his voice, remembering, how all storms pass; all that's needed is to stay in the boat. Our faith doesn't eliminate the storms of life, but reminds us that we're not alone, our Saviour remains with us always through all storms and threats. Father of all, we pray today that through the power of your Holy Spirit, the faith of all disciples would increase and encourage them to remain in the boat of Your Church. Open our ears to listen for the call of your Son. Open our eyes to recognize his approach. Grant us courage to follow his call even when his call contains challenge. Through this, may we brush aside all apathy and affirm our belief that Jesus truly conquers every storm that threatens. We make this prayer in his name. Amen. [i] Matthew 14:33 NRSVCE [ii] Matthew 14:30 NRSVCE

For the last couple weeks, we've reflected on our Baptism. Of course, the Baptized are adopted children of God; that's who Baptism says we are. But Baptism also has something to say about what we are too, it makes a practical difference; it gives us a job going all the way back to Adam and Eve. Being made in the image and likeness of God, the first couple were true prophets; a clear reflection of the maker, at least until they said, “no”, to his plan. Since then, fear has led God's people to hide or cover themselves, obscuring the image of God within. Adam and Eve were also kings, made to maintain the harmony of the Garden of Eden through their leadership and it worked, again, till they said, “no”, to the plan of the maker. Since then, even the best of leaders have let us down. We need good prophets whose life, words and actions reveal God and his word. We need good leaders, good kings for today, who bring harmony to God's people and creation. Baptism is God's first step in restoring those essential roles. Made after his own image, God made Adam and Eve to be prophets, kings and also priests. The Garden of Eden was the place where Adam and Eve met with God, walked and spoke with him and offered back to him all that was made; it was a place of prayer, a kind of temple. Again, since the first couple said, “no”, to God, it's been a challenge for many to find God, hear and speak with him and to offer him right worship. We need good priests to restore the relationship between God and his people. Now, as Catholics, our understanding of priesthood is rooted in our Jewish background. Priests, like Zechariah, whose words we heard in today's first reading, worked in the temple to restore and maintain the relationship between God and his people through prayer, worship and sacrifice; that's what the priests were expected to do. In fact, only the priests were permitted inside the temple building, everyone else had to stay out in the courtyards. When thinking of priests today, it's easy to maybe think of priests like Brother Joseph or myself. But we're not the only priests in this space. Each Baptized person is a priest; it's why, not just Brother Joseph and I but all of you are invited inside our church. Each of us are called to restore and maintain the relationship between God and his people through prayer, worship and sacrifice beginning right here at Mass. At every Mass, each Baptized priest, each of us, has opportunity to offer prayers for the world by, not just listening, but by participating in what happens here; even the different postures we take and the hymns we sing are part of our shared prayer. At every Mass, each Baptized priest has opportunity to offer worship by helping out, maybe as choir members, hospitality, decorators, gardeners, altar servers or even by cleaning this space before each weekend: we don't need any of ministries; they're acts of worship done for God. At every Mass, each Baptized priest has opportunity to make a sacrifice, especially at the collection. Especially for parents, I know part of your sacrifice includes just getting here with your kids. God has Baptized us priests so each can help restore the relationship between God and his people, to make every place, somewhere to meet God. Brother Joseph and I and every ordained priest work at that task in our own unique way, especially in this space. But, to tell the truth, I believe we have the easy job; we just need to follow the directions given by the Church. While we're called to work here, you're called to work everywhere else, to transform your homes, workplaces, communities, families, to make everywhere opportunities for all to meet God. Disciples do this by offering prayer, worship and sacrifice wherever they go. It's a serious job, a big job. So, begin in your own homes. Parents: you're the chief priests in your families. Take steps to make your homes places of prayer, worship and sacrifice; it could be as simple as praying grace before dinner. To any employers here: you're the chief priests in your workplace. Take steps to make your workplace a space of prayer, worship and sacrifice; it could be as simple as making sure your business is involved in charitable works in even a small way. Wherever disciples go, they go as Baptized priests, offering prayer, worship and sacrifice so, once again, all God's people have opportunity to meet, walks with and listen to the Maker, just as Adam and Eve first did. Maker of all, we praise you for including us in your work. Send to us your Spirit, to form of us wonderful leaders, kings for today, with hearts reflecting your love. Make prophets of us who reveal your Good News and presence and inspire us as we serve you and all you have made as Baptized priests who imitate the prayer, worship and Sacrifice of our Saviour, in whose name we offer all our prayers. Amen.

Canada Day offers a great time to reflect on all the blessings we enjoy here and among those is our electoral system: it's a blessing to have the right to elect our leaders. It's not perfect, of course, and that's felt whenever an election fuels divides among even the best of friends, when you discover a friend has ‘cancelled' out your vote with their own. It's still a true blessing though because life in those nations where leaders do win one hundred percent of the votes isn't nearly so nice as it is here. Our system works through humility, acknowledging that no one person has all the answers. We've all experienced the struggles that come when a leader misuses their position. A bad coach, an unsympathetic teacher, an uncompromising landlord, an arrogant boss: politicians and clergy aren't exempt; and it's easy to completely mistrust leaders, whoever the kings of today may be, after being let down enough. For a few weeks, we're reflecting on our Baptism. Of course, the Baptized are adopted children of God, called to inherit his Kingdom. That's who Baptism says we are. But Baptism makes a practical difference in the lives of disciples too; it gives us a job going all the way back to Adam and Eve. Being made in the image and likeness of God, they were true prophets; a clear reflection of what God's like, where he's to be found and what he wants, at least until they said, “no”, to his plan. Since then, fear has led God's people to hide or cover themselves, obscuring the image of God within. Last week, we examined how Baptism is God's first step in restoring the role of prophet so, once again, the life, words and actions of each disciple can reveal God's presence and message. Adam and Eve were made to be prophets, but also kings. One of their jobs was to name all God had made: God made it all and included the first couple in his work by inviting them to name what he had made. This is a big deal; naming all God created wasn't just about applying labels to things but about properly asserting why God made all there is and declaring how his creation is to be properly used. Through that leadership, that kingship, harmony existed in the garden. But once the first couple said, “no”, to God, that kingship was corrupted and instead of using creation according to God's purpose, people since have sometimes used creation, including others, for their own selfish purpose; that original harmony found in the Garden of Eden has been lost. God has lots to say about leaders. He's revealed his desire to work through leaders. While good leaders are praised for cooperating, for bringing harmony back for God's people and creation, leaders who misuse their position are greatly criticized. In today's Gospel, Jesus points out the qualities disciples should exhibit when leading. Good kings place nothing ahead of following the Saviour. Good leaders are ready to take up the cross. Good managers listen to and welcome prophets. The ones in charge are doing it right when they truly care about even the simplest needs of those most in need and at our Baptism we were anointed, called to seek the gifts needed to become that kind of leader. Just as we need good prophets, we need good kings, good leaders, who work to restore the harmony of God's plan. But, while we may not have much influence over the leadership qualities of others, beyond doing our best at the polls, there's a few things disciples can do for ourselves. Disciples recognize how in ways, big or small, we're each in some kind of leadership position. Maybe you're not leading a nation, but a family, or workplace project, a team or some other group. Perhaps you're in a place of influence, work with children, pass on skills or host guests; maybe all you're the leader of is a few extra dollars in a wallet. These are all places God has led his disciples to. We also admit our own need for growth; disciples acknowledge there's been moments where each has misused their position. If you're a parent, maybe there's been times you've put yourself before your children. If you're a manager or supervisor or teacher of some kind, it's so easy to be less than perfect in using authority. I know I've had to bring up my own shortcomings as pastor in the Confessional. It's uncomfortable, it's humbling, but admitting the need for growth softens the heart so the Spirit can form us into the kings God's called us to be. Disciples also declare that our royal dignity is exercised not through authority over others, but through authority for others. We reign by becoming like the greatest king of all, who's given his life for others, for us; that's the king, the leader, disciples long for and imitate. Here's the thing: elections, nations, empires, armies and dollars all come and go. Those who use authority only for themselves eventually become powerless. Our Saviour, however, calls us to aim for something endless. Shortly, in, ‘The Lord's Prayer', we'll entrust all to our eternal king; we'll pray that the Father's, “…will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” This isn't a passive request. No, in this petition disciples accept that from Baptism, we are anointed kings, called to reflect the love of our maker. King of all, we praise you for anointing the Baptized, for inviting us to share in your kingship and work. Bless all who find themselves in positions of authority, big or small, and guide them to escape all temptations to use their positions selfishly so your holy will can truly be done on earth as it is in heaven. May your disciples follow the example of your Son, who ruled through sacrifice and love. This prayer we make in his name. Amen.

Most of us, if not all, have been Baptized. Of course, we know the Baptized are connected to God's family, that they're children of God, called to inherit the Kingdom. That's the answer Baptism gives to who we are. But, over the next few weeks, we're reflecting on the practical difference Baptism makes, on the job Baptism gives to disciples; in short, the Baptized are priests, prophets and kings. It all goes back to Adam and Eve. Before the fall, before saying, “no”, to God, like us, the first couple were children of God, but they were also prophets. Being made in the image and likeness of God, all they said and did revealed what God's like, where he's to be found and what he wants. Adam and Eve were a clear reflection of God at least until they said, “no”, to his plan. Ever since that divide, sin, appeared between God's people and the source of life, fear has been a problem and it was the experience of being full of fear, that led Adam and Eve to cover themselves, to obscure the image of God within. Fear prevented the first couple from being effective prophets. So long as fear has filled God's people, there's been much confusion, even outright conflicts, about God. We need prophets who are free of fear. God didn't make us for fear though; he made us to be prophets, and Baptism is the first step God takes in restoring the role of prophet so, once again, the life, words and actions of each person can reveal God's presence and message. It's a huge challenge, though, because God's Good News isn't always welcome. We've all felt the discomfort; we've all experienced moments when the call to publicly practice or profess faith has left us feeling full of fear. We're in good company though. Today's First Reading comes from one of the major prophets, the prophet Jeremiah, whose message was very unwelcome during his life. At God's prompting, the prophet declared that the people of Judah would be conquered if they didn't change their ways; no one wanted to hear that. Then, while the city was under siege, surrounded by enemy forces, Jeremiah encouraged surrender. Despite following God's will precisely, doing the best he could, no one listened. Many, including the king, tried to eliminate him; even the temple priests had Jeremiah arrested and violently mistreated. We can imagine the fears Jeremiah may have had: He was abandoned by everyone, his life was in danger and despite proclaiming God's word and doing God's work, no one listened. Aware of his situation, the prophet wrote, “…All my close friends are watching for me to stumble.”[i] We may not fear for our lives in the same way, but it's still easy to imagine the fears of Jeremiah, the discomfort of isolation and rejection. There is a difference between feeling fear and being full of fear. In this life, feeling fear can be good; it's what reminds us to lock the door at night or to turn off the oven. “Fear of the Lord”, is one of the Gifts of the Holy Spirit urging disciples to put God first. I'm sure Jeremiah felt fear. Being full of fear is different though; it's paralyzing, holds prophets back and makes it difficult to trust God. We each have our own fears and maybe some here are full of fear: paralyzed by fear, holding back or in some way covering themselves, obscuring the image of God within. Jeremiah gives a good example of what to do. While acknowledging his situation, the prophet also observed, “…the Lord is with me like a dread warrior…”[ii] Because God never fails, Jeremiah had no fear of failure. By filling his life with signs, reminders, of God's presence, the prophet knew he was not alone. When God is difficult to find, we come here to do a similar thing, to recognize God with us. The Eucharist, the Confessional, the Anointing of the Sick: the Sacraments bring us closer to the source of life, undoing the divides of Adam and Eve. Disciples know we've not been made to be full of fear but to be prophets of God today. So, we bring our fears here and present them to the Saviour, the source of life. Poverty may have some temporary power now, but at Communion we remember how God defeats poverty by feeding us with his very self. Betrayal, injustice, heartbreak, even cancer and death: one look at the crucifix reminds us of the overpowering faithfulness of God. Bad things are going to happen to us, some will face terrible things, as did the prophet Jeremiah, there's no escaping it. But here we're reminded that God, through his love, will have the last say. Maker of all that is good, many of your people are held back by fear. To those paralyzed by fear, send your Holy Spirit to draw them to yourself, the source of life. To those haunted by fear send reminders that you always walk with them and to those tempted to hide away for safety, may this celebration be a reminder of how your love conquers all. May your comforting presence fill our hearts, empowering us to walk boldly on the path of faith. This we pray through our faithful Lord. Amen. [i] Jeremiah 20:10 (NRSVCE) [ii] Jeremiah 20:11 (NRSVCE)

First of all, sorry to begin with a sad story: I was once made a visit to someone who was severely held back in life by a mental health issue. He was truly tormented, despite having received the best of care. He told me though, that he was actually afraid of getting better because, having endured his ailment for so much of his life, he wasn't sure who he would be without it. He had allowed disorder, his cross, to define him. We each allow a variety of values to define who we are and it's a big deal because how we view ourselves shapes the choices we make around what to wear or buy, what language we use or how energy and time is spent. Some, very aware of their limits, might define themselves by their weaknesses, what they can or can't do. They may say things like, “I'm not a great athlete” or “I'm just not great first thing in the morning” and it can become progressively more self-deprecating. Holding a slightly more positive outlook, others define themselves by their strengths; they know what they're great at and what their best qualities are. They know they're strong or fast or smart and are pleased to let everyone know that's who they are. There are problems with both approaches, of course, because the various qualities someone might use to define themselves change. Someone who identifies as a good athlete is challenged when health fails or the inescapable truth of age creeps up. The one who identifies as ill is challenged when the right cure is found. Being defined by qualities, strengths or weaknesses, just eventually falls apart. Today we celebrate Trinity Sunday. Often, it's a prompt to revisit the Christian definition for who God is: three persons, one God, a true mystery. But today's feast isn't just a celebration of our Church's definition of who God is. It also celebrates the fact that God reveals himself. He reveals himself in creation. He reveals himself in the unique life of each. Best of all, he's revealed himself through Jesus and, yes, he's revealed himself as a Trinity. There may be a lot of mystery despite the best of definitions, but the Trinity remains worth celebrating because it's amazing that God reveals himself for us at all. It's also a celebration because when God reveals himself, he also reveals who each of us are. He is the maker and his mark is in each person; it's why we assert that each has been made in his image and likeness. In today's Gospel, Jesus reveals a little bit about who God is: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”[i] Through this one verse we begin defining God as one who sends his son and wishes to offer eternal life. But the same verse begins to define each of us too; it reveals that we're worth loving and we're worth saving: some very Good News! The more we learn about God the more we learn about ourselves. Without God, we're left to struggle to define ourselves; those anxious about weaknesses begin to tear themselves apart while others, honouring their strengths, can easily become prideful and even worse can happen when one group defines themselves as superior to even the smallest degree. Our faith proposes a different way: a definition based on who God says we are. Our faith proclaims that we're not defined by strengths but by our Baptism: we're first of all children of God. Our faith proclaims that we're not defined by weaknesses either but by the cross: there's no need to prove our worth when the Saviour has given his life for us. Our faith proclaims that we're not defined by any quality but by our call to share in the work of building God's Kingdom. Disciples don't define themselves but accept God's definition and this matters because those who define themselves allow their strengths or weaknesses determine how to live out faith. But disciples who accept God's definition allow him to determine how to live out strengths and weaknesses. Going back to the today's feast: as we celebrate the Trinity, how God has revealed himself as three persons, yet one God, as one who sends his son and offers eternal life, we also celebrate what it reveals about us: the Good News that we're worth loving and worth saving. But there's one more thing: God's self-revelation also unveils how we don't have to convince God of our value; we're worth loving and saving simply because God has defined us so. We only need to accept it. Father of all, we thank you for revealing yourself to us through the mystery of the Holy Trinity. May our contemplation of your revelation help us see ourselves not through our own eyes, through strengths or weaknesses, but as your beloved children, created in your image. Grant us the grace to accept the worth and dignity you have given us, trusting that we are worth loving and worth saving because you have declared it so. Following the example and command of your son, may our actions and words reveal your glory and the dignity of each person. We offer this prayer in his name. Amen. [i] John 3:16 NRSVCE

In the basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome, one of the first things a visitor will notice are the massive statues, about three times the height of a person, looking down into the congregation. The statues are of the apostles who, of course, were all martyred but one. But what's catches the attention of visiting pilgrims isn't just the size of the statues, but how they're depicted: held in the hands of each statue are the very means by which they were martyred. For example, St. Simon, who was sawn in two, holds a saw that's as long as he is tall. While it may be a bit gruesome, these statues are also a great reminder of how committed the first Apostles were. It's certainly one of my prayers that I'm never put to the test like that. Truth be told, I'm not sure that I have what it takes to be a martyr, nor do I wish to find out; sometimes it's a challenge just to get up in the morning to celebrate the Mass, but the martyrs were killed for doing exactly what we're doing now. It's easy to imagine how tempting it would have been to abandon the faith, how tempting it would have been to simply deny Jesus to avoid horrible pain and death. Perhaps none of us will ever be threatened with martyrdom, but we all know what it's like to have faith put to the test, to be the subject of ridicule or to be told to keep faith to ourselves. Because we all want to be counted as faithful disciples, the question naturally arises: how did those first disciples remain so faithful and committed even when facing death? What is it that made the martyrs so strong? In short, the answer is the Holy Spirit. At one point, fear drove the disciples to lock themselves away. They feared death. They felt inadequate to share the Good News. They were very aware of their limits and failings; very far from sainthood. So, the disciples hid. It's not where they were to stay though. Once they received the Holy Spirit, they left their place of hiding to proclaim the Good News. When they felt inadequate, the Holy Spirit offered them the gifts needed to find the right words and acts. When they felt far from the Saviour, the Holy Spirit offered them the gifts needed to become saints and heroes for us today. We learn how it's the Holy Spirit that strengthens, teaches, equips and moves disciples, how the gifts of the Holy Spirit give life to our Church. One thing Catholics are great at is making lists. Sacraments, virtues, vices: we make lists not just so there's something to quiz Confirmation candidates on but so it's easy to have goals to aim for and to recognize signs of invisible truths happening all around. One list is the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, a set of categories of different ways we know the Holy Spirit works through disciples. Through the Gift of Wisdom, disciples gain the capacity to love spiritual things more than material things. Through the Gift of Understanding, we understand how to live as followers of the Saviour, never confused by conflicting cultural messages about the right way to live. The Gift of Counsel, sometimes called Right Judgement, reveals the difference between right and wrong, and even right and more right, helping disciples place values in the proper order. With the Gift of Fortitude or courage, we overcome fears and are willing to take risks when following Jesus and his commandments to love and share the Good News. Through the gift of knowledge, disciples don't simply wish to understand God and his ways, but actually see things from God's perspective. When empowered by the Gift of Piety or Reverence, we acknowledge our total dependence on God, we approach him with humility, trust, and love, offering right worship. Finally, the Gift of Fear of the Lord stirs awareness of how all we truly desire, perfect knowledge, and goodness, perfect power, love, happiness and joy, are found in God alone. Maybe you can recognize some of these gifts in your own life, great signs of the Holy Spirit working in your life, proof that God's called on you to share in his work. But maybe you recognize how you might lack some of those gifts. The statues I mentioned earlier: what they held in their hands, the instruments through which they were martyred, were transformed through the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, from instruments of death or signs of failure into trophies that proclaim victory through the Holy Spirit. So, what Gifts of the Holy Spirit could we use more of today? Which of his Gifts might empower our Church, our parish, our families and each Christian to become faithful Disciples who make as big a difference in the world today as did the first Apostles. Let's now take a moment to pray that we would always accept the gifts and guidance of the Holy Spirit. Father of all, we pray that you would send to us your Holy Spirit to offer us his gifts. With wonder and reverence, may we draw closer to you. With knowledge, and understanding, may we share our faith with the world and with courage, may we do so boldly. With wisdom and counsel, may we recognize where we're called to proclaim truth and how we are to use your gifts so our community would reveal your love and be a light in the world. We make this prayer in the name of Jesus, Our Lord. Amen.

I remember, back in high school student, being asked to envision my life ten years into the future, to make a five or ten year plan. It's a job interview question I've had too, “where do you see yourself in five years”. I get how it's important to have goals and plans, a positive perspective for the future. But it's not a question I've especially liked because, in my experience, life rarely goes as I plan. It works out, of course, and in many ways it's been better than I've planned. But those moments of having to surrender part of my vision, the experience of realizing how my plans just aren't going to work out, is frustrating and even painful at times. We're often left wondering why this has to be, why our vision or perspective, our great plans for the future, can't be realized. Today is often called Good Shepherd Sunday. Jesus has referred to himself as, “…the good shepherd.”[i] and in this weekend we take a closer look at how the image of a shepherd and sheep is a great analogy for our relationship with the Saviour. On our own, we accomplish many amazing things; we've built a blessed nation, we've formed wonderful families, we've harnessed great powers, but all it takes is a little turmoil in life, a health issue, the loss of a job, conflict or inflation, to discover how we're as weak as sheep, powerless against the predators of the world; a Good Shepherd is vital to our survival. Everyone loves Psalm 23, ‘The Lord is my shepherd'. It begins by forming an image from the perspective of sheep trusting that the good shepherd will lead to green pastures and clean waters. I'm sure, if we were sheep, there would be no argument from us; safety, shelter, food, drink: sounds like bliss for sheep; what else could be wanted? Maybe that's what you wish for yourself: safety, shelter food and drink. Maybe you've envisioned the best: a big house in a fancy neighbourhood, steak and eggs every morning. Maybe you're a little humbler, happy to settle for mac and cheese and a modest home in Bowmanville. But our vision and God's perspective don't always match. It may be enough for sheep to have their basic needs and comforts met. But we're more than sheep and the Good Shepherd is so good because he knows that we'll never be satisfied with simply having basic needs met. In the Psalm, the work of the Good Shepherd doesn't end with the provision of the best food and drink. It continues, “You prepare a table before me…”[ii]. Turns out, the comfort of green fields and flowing water isn't enough; the Good Shepherd wants to share a meal with his flock, he wants the sheep to share his joy. The Psalm concludes, “…I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.”[iii] The sheep are invited to live in the home of the Good Shepherd. That's not how farms usually work: animals usually stay in barns, away from those who look after them. This is the Easter perspective, the vision of the Good Shepherd: for his sheep to live, not in the best barns possible, or to have the best food, but to share in his life and joy. Here's the challenge and where many frustrations appear: before living with the Good Shepherd and eating at his table, before being truly happy with the Easter perspective of the Good Shepherd, the sheep must be willing to let go of their own dreams for barns and green fields and water, they must want for more than comfort and the fulfillment of basic needs and instead long for what only the Good Shepherd can provide. The flock of the Good Shepherd recognize that their plans and vision, no matter how good they may be, always fall short of the Easter perspective the Good Shepherd wishes for them. A great example of this lived out is seen in our patron, Saint Joseph. Before learning about his call to be the foster father of Jesus, I have no doubts he had great and good plans for the life of his family. Accepting the even greater plan of God, a plan for life for all, meant surrendering his own plans. Of course, it's still a great practice to make plans and envision a great future; it feeds hope and motivation. So do make the best of plans. But disciples pray to gain an Easter perspective, so when the Good Shepherd urges us away from the comfort of green fields, warm barns and fresh water, we're willing to follow. When we accept the Easter perspective of the Good Shepherd, when we long to join at his table and live in his home, the frustrations and pains that arise when our own dreams are shattered are overshadowed by his life and joy. Prayer Kindly shepherd, guide us to the banquet of your Kingdom. Shepherd of love, guard us against powers that work to divide. Holy Shepherd, reveal to us your redeeming plan. Good Shepherd, never allow us to wander away from you. In your name we pray. Amen. [i] John 10:11 NRSVCE [ii] Psalm 23: 5 NRSVCE [iii] Psalm 23: 6 NRSVCE

I know of many who love going to art museums and can spend hours appreciating great works of art. It's different for me though. After about twenty minutes of looking at paintings, they all start looking the same. I know I'm missing something and won't get the same enjoyment as many others, at least not till something in my own perspective changes. Missing out because of an incompatible perspective is something everyone experiences. It's felt when you don't get the punchline of a joke. Maybe, as a student, you experienced it when some concept taught in school just seemed impossible to grasp. Oh, you were told everything you needed to hear; no details were skipped. But, because of an incompatible perspective, something just seemed to go right over your head. That's basically the position the two disciples on the road to Emmaus found themselves in. As they walked along, Jesus was with them, but they didn't recognize him. It's a common pattern: that those who saw Jesus after the resurrection couldn't recognize him. We've reflected on how a perspective focused on the cross and tomb as symbols of definitive failure made it difficult for Peter to believe Jesus had risen and impossible for Mary Magdalene to recognize the Saviour standing right before her. We considered how the disciples could see no other option but to hide in a locked room, so long as their vision was fixed on the power of the Romans and religious authorities. Despite the strangeness of the resurrection, these closest friends of Jesus should have been able to recognize our Saviour; he was right there before their eyes. But they couldn't until gaining a new perspective, an Easter perspective. The disciples on the road to Emmaus we heard about in today's Gospel suffered from clouded vision too. They could retell the life of Jesus in great detail. They knew of his miracles and message. Their inability to recognize Jesus certainly wasn't because they didn't know enough. What they lacked was an Easter perspective. Death appeared final to them. In their mind, there was no need to look for Jesus, so they didn't. Instead of joy, their day was filled with sadness and God's presence went unrecognized. It's so easy to be like those disciples. Many of us have spent years in Catholic schools; we know lots about our faith. But, when worry and anxiety creeps in, when we feel threatened or hurt, the miracles and message of Jesus become clouded and it's hard to believe he's with us at all. We don't look for him. We can't recognize him. There's definitely great news though. Even when we cannot recognize him, Jesus still walks with us. To those disciples along the road, Jesus worked in their hearts by opening the scriptures, by reminding of them of God's Word. They were already very familiar with the scriptures; but God's Word always has more to reveal. But when they took a closer look at the connections between the life and death of Jesus and the promises found in scripture, their vision began to change; they opened up to receiving an Easter perspective. We do the same thing at every Mass. Yes, we've heard the scriptures many times. But God's Word always has more to reveal. We know that by reading and reflecting on the scripture, Jesus walks with us and offers a new perspective. When they finally arrived at Emmaus, Jesus broke bread with the disciples and they finally recognized him; they gained an Easter perspective. It's what happens at Mass too. Again, we know what's going to happen when we come to church; there's no real surprises here. But there is no better place to recognize the presence of Jesus among us than at the altar where he offers to us his very self. We meet Jesus in the breaking of bread and invite him to change our perspective as well so that, as we journey through life, we recognize his presence with us. There's plenty outside those doors to distract us from God or to say that God isn't really there or that he offers nothing against the dangers of the world. When that happens, when the Saviour is difficult to recognize, we gather here to join those disciples who gained an Easter perspective, who discovered that Jesus had been with them all along urging them in his ways. Maker of all, like those disciples found on the road to Emmaus, the hearts of your people are often filled with sadness and worry. Through the work of the Holy Spirit, help remove from us all that prevents us from recognizing the presence of your Son with us, all that keeps us from walking in your ways. Through this and every Mass, may our appreciation of your Word increase and our dedication to your Son be renewed. In his name, we offer our prayers. Amen.

I have to admit, sometimes seeing things from the perspective of others is a real challenge. So, I hope you'll forgive me for starting off with a little judgment. Now that the Artimis Two crew have returned, I've seen some early reports and reflections on the successes of their mission. It's not as great as Easter, but their success is a success for all and worth admiring. That crew went farther than anyone and the pictures sent from that unique perspective are amazing. But then, and this is where the little judgment comes in, I occasionally see some content posted proposing it was all made up and the earth is flat; and it leaves me wondering: when the earth looks so clearly round and spinning, what could possibly cloud someone's vision to see anything else? Now, if you happen to see the earth as a little less spherical than most, again, sorry for the judgment, we still love having you with us because Easter is for you too. Truth-be-told though, we all suffer with clouded vision in one way or another. It what suggests to a child in need that turning to a parent will lead to rejection. It affirms lunchroom gossip as an acceptable tactic for advancement. It proposes that forgiveness will only result in further hurt. Proposing limits to love, a clouded vision tempts someone to keep secrets from their spouse. Clouded vision leads us to see others as obstacles instead of opportunity, life as dangerous and ourselves as inadequate. Last week, we reflected on the clouded vision that afflicted the disciples on the first Easter morning. Their clouded vision insisted that the cross and tomb were symbols of definitive failure making it difficult for Peter to believe Jesus had risen and impossible for Mary Magdalene to recognize Jesus standing right before her. Like those disciples, when plagued with clouded vision, if we don't have the right perspective, we miss a lot. We can't see how God mysteriously answers prayers and guides his people. It's clouded vision that so often leads to choices that eventually require the healing of a good Confession. We admire the first disciples because they truly know what it's like to suffer from clouded vision. Their first Easter didn't start as a day of joy; the disciples weren't running out to buy lilies and egg-shaped chocolates. No, we're told how, on the evening of the first Easter, the doors, “…were shut where the disciples were, for fear…”[i]. The religious authorities had demonstrated how far they were willing to go to silence the message of Jesus. The Romans had proven their power over the people. That's all the disciples saw, and that clouded vision left them feeling powerless against such giant forces. So, filled with fear, they hid, they locked themselves away; their clouded vision told them there was no other option. But then something changed. The disciples saw and heard. Jesus appeared pointing out signs of his power; through the marks of the nails, the disciples saw. The Saviour then spoke: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”[ii] The disciples heard. While a clouded vision fixated on weakness against powers like the Romans or religious authorities, Jesus revealed an Easter perspective: that disciples are to work in his name and with his power. The religious authorities may have had power to imprison, but they could never silence the Good News. The Romans may have had power to crucify, but death would not have the last say. The disciples saw and heard the Saviour and it gave them an Easter perspective. Our continuing Easter celebrations offer great opportunities to reflect on our own vision and perspective. Maybe at times, it's easy to see things with an Easter perspective, to see God at work, to trust him and put him first and I hope that's your experience today. But there are also moments, and we've all been there, where it would be easy to stand among those disciples who have fearfully locked themselves in a room. Armies, inflation, politicians, relationships: there are some very intimidating powers out there. Regardless of where you are, the response is the same, to see and hear the Saviour. Disciples work to see Jesus maybe by coming here or taking a moment to reflect on where he has worked. We might examine the incredible lives of saints or on the good works done by Christians everywhere. Disciples work to hear Jesus too, perhaps by spending some quiet time in the chapel, by reading scripture or by caring for his creation. Disciples see and hear, not just for themselves but for all. We all know people who live as though they are in a locked room, fearful of the powers of the world. For many, life can seem like a cross and fear of the tomb highlights the limits of time, energy and resources. But disciples show something different: a power over all that, our Saviour who reveals a new perspective, an Easter perspective, that overpowers the cross, the tomb and all else that threatens God's people. God of all, we praise you this Easter season for conquering the grave. As the love of your Son transformed the cross and tomb into symbols of life, may he also transform all that threatens and inspires fear in your people today so we would accept the gifts of your Holy Spirit, who empowers disciples to lead others in seeing and hearing the call of the Saviour. In His name we pray. Amen. [i] John 20:19 NRSVCE [ii] John 20:21 NRSVCE

Something I've learned over time is how maintaining relationships takes constant, deliberate work. It's worth the effort, of course, but when that work isn't done, relationships begin to drift apart. I've had close friends from grade school, high school and beyond, some from workplaces, who I've just drifted from once various things in life changed, […]

For near a year, I've been paying a little more attention to what I eat, avoiding sugars and that kind of thing. As someone happy to start the day with apple pie for breakfast, the biggest challenge for me has been passing by baked goods; they smell good, they look good and they've never let […]

There are many reasons why I'm not a great athlete, but while watching the Olympics I've realized that one of those reasons might come from my attitude towards competition. When I might view other competitors as obstacles, getting between myself and a gold medal, the impression I get from the Olympians is that they see […]

Life is often full of clutter, of unhelpful things we cling to maybe out of habit or oversight or fear. Of course, God wants us to enjoy what he's made. But when there's so much that it creates stress: that's a sign of clutter. In addition to being a practical issue, clutter is a spiritual […]

I hear it all the time: someone frustrated with distracted prayer or a student struggling to focus on studying for an exam. We all know what it's like to be harassed by thoughts that confuse and get in the way of careers, relationships and peace; I'm certainly no exception to the experience. Maybe the minds […]

One of the biggest challenges in life, at least for me, is finding great friends. It's a challenge even to define what a friendship is or to determine what criteria to use when assessing a friendship or relationship. Is a friend the one willing to wait for you at the airport or to help lift […]

When I go grocery shopping, I always bring a list and, mostly, I stick to it. I discovered long ago that without a list, I'd end up buying just whatever looked good. The result: a bigger food bill, forgotten necessities and waste. I discovered that, for me at least, a successful grocery shopping trip demanded […]

One thing I really despise is losing something. I know it's something everyone experiences, but while some seem able to shrug off losing something as a frustration and children just accept losing things as part of life, I lose sleep when I know I'm missing something. It's an experience that encourages me to be a […]

I was actually hoping Brother Joseph could have preached this weekend, but he's filling in elsewhere. I have to admit, I find the Ascension is one of the more difficult feasts to preach on. We all know the story of Jesus Ascending to heaven on a cloud; it's a challenge to add much to what's...

There are many mysteries in our faith; but there's one that's noticeable on a very practical level: we know the death and resurrection of Jesus has changed everything, that it's somehow made things better for those who follow the Good Shepherd, and yet outwardly, it seems very little has changed. Disciple or not, everyone faces...

Especially around Easter, we hear a lot about being redeemed; so it's something we've been reflecting on over the last few weeks. There's lots of ways the word, “redemption”, can be used, but the redemption our faith offers is, “the restoration of something that had been lost.” In today's second reading, God's ultimate plan is...

For a few weeks, we've been reflecting on what it means to be redeemed; it's a word we hear a lot in our faith, especially around Easter. The redemption offered in our faith is something very different from the act of redeeming a coupon or gift card for something we want. No, for us, redemption...