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On that day
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” (14:20) The expression “on that day” is a standard Johannine expression pointing to the “hour” when Jesus is glorified in the events surrounding the passion, death and resurrection [Brown, 640]. Jesus promises that the events of Easter will be the catalyst for them to realize two things. First, they would understand what they had not previously been able to comprehend (7–11), that Jesus and the Father are one and to see Jesus is to see the Father. Second, they would understand something new: with the coming of the Spirit they would be ‘in’ Jesus, and Jesus ‘in’ them. Continue reading
Burdens and Necessities
In the first reading today, the apostles and elders, after prayer and discernment, send a message to the Gentile believers. And at the heart of that message is this line: “It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us not to place on you any burden beyond these necessities.” The early Christians were wrestling with a serious question: what is really required to follow Christ? And, guided by the Holy Spirit, they come to a conclusion that shapes the Church forever: do not place unnecessary burdens on people. But notice this does not mean no demands at all. It means distinguishing between what is essential and what is not. And that leads us directly to the Gospel. Because if Acts shows us what the Church removes, the Gospel shows us what the Church keeps.
The apostles could have said: “Let’s require everything—the whole Mosaic law, every custom, every practice.” But they don’t because they recognize something fundamental: God is not trying to make salvation complicated or inaccessible. Faith is not meant to be weighed down with layers of requirements that obscure the heart of the Gospel.
And that matters for us. Because even today, we can quietly add burdens: expectations about how others should pray, assumptions about what “real” faith looks like, personal preferences that we elevate into requirements or so emphasize that Christians, still maturing in the faith, begin to think it is essential.
The Church, guided by the Spirit, resists that instinct. She seeks clarity not confusion; freedom, not unnecessary burden. And that should lead us to an important question: If God removes what is unnecessary… what remains? In the Gospel, Jesus answers that question very clearly: “This is my commandment: love one another as I love you.” Not a suggestion. Not one option among many. And so there is no confusion, He tells us what that love looks like: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
So the Christian life is not burdened but it is not easy. God removes what is unnecessary, but He does not remove what is essential. And love – real love – is demanding. It means:
- Choosing patience when it would be easier to react
- Forgiving when we would rather hold on
- Giving time, attention, and care when we feel tired
- Letting go of pride, control, or resentment
In other words, the burden is not multiplied—it is focused. Not many competing demands—but one central call: to love as Christ loves. And Jesus goes one step further. “It was not you who chose me, but I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit.” We are not only called to receive this love, we are sent to live it.
The decision in Acts did not remain an idea. It was sent out to communities. It shaped how people lived together. In the same way, the command to love is not abstract. It becomes concrete in families, workplaces, parishes and in daily encounters. And often, the place we are most called to love is the place that is least convenient. That is where love becomes real. That is where it bears fruit.
Today’s readings give us a clear pattern: God removes what is unnecessary. God commands what is essential. And then God sends us to live it.
And that brings us to a simple but challenging questions:
- Do I carry burdens God never asked me to carry?
- And do I sometimes avoid the one thing He asks of us?
Because it is possible to be weighed down by the wrong things and yet resist the one thing that matters most.
Faith is not about doing everything. It is about doing what matters.
Image credit: Cristian Blázquez Martínez | iStock photo ID:1478111360 | downloaded May 2, 2026 | iStock standard license.
Orphans
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” The second promise of continuing presence is Jesus’ promise of his own return (vv. 18-20). “Orphan” (orphanos) was a common metaphor to describe disciples left without their master but the use of the metaphor here has a special poignancy in the light of the familial and domestic imagery that runs throughout Jesus’ words to his own (e.g., 13:33; 14:2-3, 10-14; 15:9-11; 16:21-24, 27). Jesus’ promise that he will not leave the disciples orphaned recalls his use of the address “little children” in 13:33 and is an assurance that the intimacy of that familial relationship is not undercut by Jesus’ departure. His promise to return thus immediately counters any possible perception of Jesus’ death as his abandonment of his own. Continue reading
The Advocate
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. 16 And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, 17 the Spirit of truth” This is the first occurrence of the noun parakletos in the Fourth Gospel. This word occurs five times in the NT. It is used in 1 John 2:1 to refer to Jesus; and four times in John’s Farewell Discourse (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). Continue reading
The Essentials
The first reading today begins with a very strong claim: “Unless you are circumcised according to the Mosaic practice, you cannot be saved.” That is not a small disagreement; it is a statement about who counts—about what is necessary to belong to God. And the early Church takes it seriously. The apostles gathered, listened and discerned because at stake is something fundamental: What is essential to being saved—and what is not?
Now, we might be tempted to think: “That was a first-century problem. That doesn’t apply to us.” But it does—just in a quieter, more subtle way. Because even today, we can fall into similar patterns of thinking. We may not say, “Unless you are circumcised…” But sometimes we imply you are not really a serious Catholic unless you pray the Rosary every day, the Divine Mercy Chaplet or some other devotion. You have to fast and abstain from meat every Friday even outside of Lent. You have to… and the list goes on. Unless you do these things you are not really committed. You’re not quite “there.”
Now, all of those practices are good. Some are very powerful. Many are strongly encouraged by the Church. But they are not the same as what the apostles are discerning in Acts 15. They are not the foundation.So what is essential? At the heart of the Church’s life are two inseparable realities: Orthodoxy (right belief) and Orthopraxis (right practice).
To be Catholic is to believe what the Church hands on: faith in the Trinity; faith in Jesus Christ, true God and true man; Jesus’ death and resurrection for our salvation; and the gift of grace (to name a few). To live that faith concretely, the essential elements include: participation in the sacraments—especially the Eucharist, a life of repentance and conversion, living according to the commandments, and loving God and neighbor. These are not optional or “extra credit.” These are the core of Christian life.
Devotions, spiritual practices, disciplines – everything else belongs to a different category. They are not unnecessary. Far from it. They are helps, aids, supports and good. They are like tools, or pathways, or languages of prayer that help different people grow closer to God. The Rosary, for example, is a beautiful way to meditate on the life of Christ. The Divine Mercy Chaplet opens us to trust in God’s mercy. Lectio Divina immerses us in Scripture. Fasting strengthens our freedom and deepens our dependence on God. But they are means, not the measure of whether someone is truly Catholic.
The danger comes when we confuse the two. When we take something good and quietly turn it into something required for belonging. That is exactly what was happening in Acts 15. Something deeply meaningful, i.e. circumcision, part of God’s covenant with Israel, was being elevated into a condition for salvation. The apostles, guided by the Holy Spirit, recognized that is not the Gospel. Because salvation does not come through adopting a specific set of cultural or devotional practices. It comes through Jesus Christ.
This is not just a theological point. It is a pastoral one. Because people come to the Church with very different spiritual paths. One person may pray the Rosary daily and find deep peace. Another may encounter God most powerfully in silent prayer. Another may be drawn to Scripture. Another to acts of service. The Holy Spirit does not form every soul in the same way. And that is not a weakness of the Church. It is a sign of her catholicity, her universality.
At the same time, we should be careful not to swing too far the other way. To say, “Nothing matters, everything is optional.” That is not the Gospel either. There are essentials. We are called to believe, to worship, to repent, to love. We are called to a real, concrete relationship with Christ in His Church.
So perhaps the right way to hold this tension is this: be firm about what is essential and be generous about what is helpful. Hold tightly to the faith of the Church. And hold lightly, though appreciatively, to the many ways people live that faith.
The apostles in Acts 15 refused to place extra burdens on people that Christ Himself had not imposed. And that remains a guiding principle for us. Because in the end we are not saved by adopting every good practice. We are saved by Jesus Christ and then given many good ways to grow in Him.
Let us ask for the wisdom to know the difference and the charity to live it well.
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Hold Dear
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. In yesterday’ post we concluded that the Johannine meaning of “commandment” is far broader than the Mosaic laws, rather encompasses the whole of Jesus’ life: words, deeds and the ultimate measure – love. Now that we have an idea about what we mean by “commandments,” what does it mean to “keep” (tereo) them? Continue reading
What is lacking
In St. Paul’s letter to the Colossians, he makes a statement that should give one pause: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Col 1:24) The phrase “what is lacking” is hysterēmata which is not a complex word. It means “deficiency.” Paul uses the word seven other times and it has the same basic meaning.
In Col 1:24 the phrase and use of hysterēmata is jarring and the plain sense of the verse is that something is deficient in Christ’s saving work. The early Church Fathers were very alert to that danger, and they are remarkably consistent on one central point: nothing is lacking in the saving power of Christ’s Passion. All then go on to say what is “lacking” concerns our participation, not His redemption. From that shared conviction, they developed several complementary ways of understanding the verse.
John Chrysostom and Augustine of Hippo stress a distinction noting Christ’s Passion is perfect, sufficient, and once-for-all yet Christ continues to suffer in His Body, the Church which is a key theme of Colossians. Chrysostom held that Paul is not adding to Christ’s redemptive suffering, but sharing in the sufferings that still belong to Christ’s Body. St Augustine was more specific: “Christ suffers what remains, not in His Head, but in His members.”
The Early Church Fathers consistently read this passage through the doctrine of the Mystical Body in which Christ is the Head and the Church is His Body. The idea is that what happens to the Body is truly connected to the Head. Augustine writes: “Paul can speak this way because he is in Christ. The sufferings of believers are, in a real sense, Christ’s own sufferings extended in time.” The key idea is that Christ chose not to suffer “alone,” but to include His members in His redemptive life. This is not because He needed help, but because He willed a communion of participation.
Another line of understanding found in Fathers like Cyril of Alexandria focuses on the subjective dimension. The understanding is that redemption is objectively complete in Christ but it must be applied, lived, and embodied in each believer. In other words, what is “lacking” is not Christ’s work, but our full conformity to it. In Paul’s case, his sufferings help build up the Church and bring others to accept the redemption that thus be saved.
Across the Fathers, there is a kind of theological instinct in that they resist any interpretation that suggests insufficiency in Christ, and instead reframe the verse as revealing something astonishing: Christ allows His members to share in His saving work. This is not out of necessity; it is grace.
A simple single sentence might be: Nothing is lacking in Christ’s sacrifice; something is lacking in our participation in it.
Image credit: Jesus Christ Pantocrator | detail from the deesis mosaic in Hagia Sophia, Istanbul | PD-US
Love and Keeping Commandments
This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. Jesus’ discourse (at this point) begins to move in a new direction by focusing on the ways in which belief “into Jesus” (v.1) empowers the believing community (v.12 ff). Jesus has emphasized that the works he does are not his own but are the Father’s; now Jesus begins to emphasize the link between his works and that of the believing community. Our gospel text describes two dimensions of the believer’s relationship with Jesus: (1) the inseparability of one’s love of Jesus and the keeping of his commandments (vv.15, 21, 23-24) and (2) the abiding and indwelling of the presence of God, even after Jesus’ death and departure with those who love him (vv.16-20, 22-23). Continue reading
Perfection in Jesus
There are many verses which we encounter which, if we paused and considered, we might think, “Well, that’s odd.” But the Word of God being what it is, we give the passage a “believer’s nod” and read on. Consider Hebrews 5:8-10:
“Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him, declared by God high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.”
What do you make of the phrase “when he was made perfect”? The Word of God, the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity wasn’t always perfect? We should naturally recoil at the idea. But then again, there it is. Perhaps it is just an awkward translation from Greek into English…nope. That’s not it. This is the point at which one explores the question or nods and reads on.
Interestingly, this is not the first place in Hebrews that perfection is mentioned in association with Jesus –
“For it was fitting that he, for whom and through whom all things exist [God the Father], in bringing many children to glory, should make the leader [Jesus] to their salvation perfect through suffering.” (Heb 2:10)
Again there is a phrase that Jesus (the object of this passage) is made perfect through suffering. The idea needs a little unpacking. The word “leader” is archēgos. Many bibles translate this as “author” but the New American (NAB) more fittingly translates the word as “leader” – and “pathfinder” would have also been a suitable translation; and to my mind closer to the sense of the passage. In any case, when used in the New Testament archēgos solely and always refers to Christ. As F.F. Bruce notes: “He is the Savior who blazed the trail of salvation along which alone God’s ‘many sons’ could be brought to glory. Man, created by God for his glory, was prevented by sin from attaining that glory until the Son of Man came and opened up by his death a new way by which humanity might reach the goal for which it was made. As his people’s representative and forerunner he has now entered into the presence of God to secure their entry there.” (The Epistle to the Hebrews,1990)
But what is meant by his being made “perfect” through his sufferings? We take it as a “given” that Jesus is perfect in that He is the fullness of his Father’s glory. What is being offered here is that the perfect Son of God has become his people’s perfect Savior, opening up their way to God. In order to become that, he must endure suffering and death. The pathway of perfection which his people must tread must first be journeyed by the Pathfinder. Only Jesus could, at the same time be the true representative of the people and at the same time be high priest in the presence of God. “In order to be a perfect high priest, a person must sympathize with those on whose behalf he acts, and he cannot sympathize with them unless he can enter into their experiences and share them for himself. Jesus did just this. Moreover, in order to be a perfect high priest, a person must learn the lesson of obedience to God; if he failed in this, he would really need a priest for himself, to enter into God’s presence for him with the assurance of being admitted there. Of Jesus’ obedience there could be no question.” (Bruce)
The high priest had one specially solemn service to perform: present an atonement to God on his people’s behalf. The high priest must have unreserved identification with the people and at the same time have perfect obedience to the God. There is only one who fulfills these conditions perfectly—the one whose obedience and death fitted him completely to be his people’s representative. He suffered not only with them but for them; his suffering was both voluntary and vicarious. He who suffered was the Son of God, and the “many” for whom he suffered are thus led to glory as sons and daughters of God in their turn.
In what sense, then, did the Son of God learn obedience “by what he suffered”? We know the sense in which the words are true of us; we learn to be obedient because of the unpleasant consequences which follow disobedience. It was not so with him. St. Luke tells us that as a child “And Jesus advanced wisdom and age and favor before God and man.” (Lk 2:52) In his earthly life he learned what obedience to God involved the sufferings that sometimes attended such obedience. Isaiah’s “Suffering Servant” always comes to mind:
The Lord GOD has given me a well-trained tongue, That I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them. Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear; And I have not rebelled, have not turned back. I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; My face I did not shield from buffets and spitting. The Lord GOD is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame. He is near who upholds my right; if anyone wishes to oppose me, let us appear together. Who disputes my right? Let him confront me. See, the Lord GOD is my help; who will prove me wrong? Lo, they will all wear out like cloth, the moth will eat them up. (Isa 50:4-9)
The Servant’s willingness to heed the voice of God teaches him that suffering will be inseparable from his obedience (cf. Isa 50:5, “Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear; And I have not rebelled, have not turned back”). The sufferings which Jesus endured were the necessary price of his obedience and were part and parcel of his obedience and the means by which he fulfilled the will of God. This is something Jesus points out at his baptism in the river Jordan when John was reluctant: “Jesus said to him in reply, ‘Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’” (Mt 3:15)
Baptized along with sinners, Jesus placed himself unreservedly at God’s disposal for the accomplishment of God’s saving purpose and in doing so, he associated himself publicly with sinners, that was something which he was going to do throughout his ministry, until he was “numbered with the transgressors” on the cross. The pathway of public obedience which was inaugurated in the earlier baptism was crowned by the second baptism: the fulfilment of “all righteousness” in his Passion and Death.
The Christians for whom this letter was intended found that the maintenance of their faith and loyalty exposed them to trial and suffering which they could escape by renouncing their confession or dodge by drawing less public attention to it. But the question for them to face was: were they to fall back and lose everything or press on to salvation? Our author urges them to press on, in spite of all the suffering it may involve, and he sets before them the example of Jesus, who set his face “like a flint,” refusing to turn back, and was thus made “perfect through sufferings.” His example and his present aid might well encourage them too to persevere; no hardship could befall them in which he did not sympathize with them.
“Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him, declared by God high priest according to the order of Melchizedek.”
Jesus Christ Pantocrator | detail from the deesis mosaic in Hagia Sophia, Istanbul | PD-US
May 4th Greetings
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