Monthly Archives: May 2025

Reflecting on Rev. 21: 10-14, 22-23

We’re getting close to the end of the Easter season, which means we’re getting close to the end of the Book of Revelation, which we only hear in the Easter season, except for the Feast of All Saints. What a mysterious and beautiful book it is. Sadly, many Christians waste their precious years poring over its more enigmatic sections, looking for codes to the day and the hour of the Second Coming. That’s not what it’s about, but people throughout time keep identifying the villains of their own day as the Anti-Christ.

Now, I’ve had my own suspicions of some figures in our time. Jeff Bezos, for example, gets my vote, because Amazon has so taken over our purchasing practices that if you don’t happen to have a computer, or the right credit card, you won’t be able to buy things nearly as easily as the rest of us. That evokes, in my brain, the many references in Revelation of those with the number 666 on their foreheads. These are the ones who have bent the knee to the Anti-Christ, and are the only ones who can buy or sell (Rev. 13:16-19).

I’m only half-serious, of course. The Anti-Christ referenced in Revelation was the Emperor Nero, and those with the number 666 were all the people—Christians among them—who reverenced him in order not to be murdered. Revelation isn’t a prophecy of a figure to come. It’s about the insane sociopath on the throne in Rome in the last years of the first century AD.

But, above all, it’s about our future with Christ. The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come!” We long for that day. Come, Lord Jesus.

What temptations in the modern world make it hard to hear the voice of Jesus? 

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Rev. 21: 1- 5a

Are you old enough to have memories of sitting by a crystal-clear lake? Do you remember swimming in a deep blue ocean, with a pristine beach? I even remember walking up Hollywood Boulevard, taking in the fragrant hibiscus, and walking in and out of sparkling clean shops. That’s how old I am.

These days, I long for that “new heaven and new earth” we are promised in today’s Revelation reading. I long to walk down a long, clean beach, and to jump into a warm, clear ocean. I long for a predictable climate of four seasons, each with its own small dramas, but nothing like the one-in-a-century storms we see every year now.

And I long to see the new Jerusalem, healed of its trauma, stretching arms of peace and reconciliation. I long to see Gaza, sparkling like a diamond, filled with strong, happy, safe children, with porous borders that welcome friends from both sides as they come and go.

I long to see Ukraine, whole again, rebuilt better than before. I long to see all the war refugees streaming home, and, somehow, even the dead raised back to life, with their loved ones having no memory of their  tears. And I long to see the grieving Russian mothers and widows hugging their healthy, happy sons.

Behold, this is God’s dwelling, where the earth is healed, and our hearts are healed, and war is thrown into the Lake of Fire, forever. God will wipe every tear from our eyes. That’s the promise.

O, Risen Christ, may it be so. May we live to see this promise come true.

And may we offer our lives in service of helping this scripture be fulfilled.

What does a new heaven and a new earth mean to you?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on John 10: 27-30

What does eternal life mean? Pope Francis left a beautiful testament, to be read after his death, saying, “I ask that my mortal remains rest awaiting the day of resurrection in the Papal Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.” I haven’t heard many people speak about the resurrection of the body, but our dear Franciscus clearly believed that his body would rise on the last day.

Jesus, in today’s gospel from John 10, assures us when he says, speaking metaphorically about sheep, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.” Can we possibly hope that we are counted in that number, that there is truly life after this life?

Let’s lean into Catholic teaching. At death, the immortal soul does not perish. Immediately after death, the soul undergoes a “particular judgment,” based on its life on earth. At the end of time, there will be a final resurrection where all souls will be reunited with their bodies, and the Last Judgment will take place. This is the moment that Pope Francis awaits.

Here’s a beautiful analogy, given to us by Rev. John McKenzie, SJ. When we are in the womb, we can’t know anything but the womb. This is where we get our food, oxygen, warmth, and safety. But if an embryo, already grown into a baby and birthed into a life outside the womb,  could talk to the pre-born embryo, think of the confidence she could give that embryo: “You’ll breathe! You’ll eat! You’ll dance! You’ll talk! I know you’re afraid of the unknown. But trust me, you want to be born.”

Trust me, says Jesus. I will give those who embrace me eternal life. You want to be born into that.

What fears do you harbor about being born into eternal life?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on John 21: 1-19

I heard the Passion this year more than any other Lent. Or, maybe I just HEARD the Passion more—really heard it, really contemplated it, was really broken over it, more than ever before. In the same way, I resolve to read the Easter gospels with brand-new eyes this season as well.

And so, I have some questions. When Jesus visited his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias, we don’t know how much time had elapsed since he appeared to them (with Thomas) one week after Easter. We know that they’d returned to their occupation before being called to follow Christ. What were they thinking on that boat that day? Did we dream all of this? And yet, we all remember the Risen Jesus appearing to us in the room where we were hiding, and, the second time, Thomas even felt his wounds!

So, what did they think had happened to Jesus since he appeared to them? Weren’t they beside themselves, not knowing where he was, or what his resurrection meant for their futures? (I suspect Peter was PARTICULARLY interested in that question.) Apparently, they had reunited with their families in the Galilee, after traveling with Jesus for three years. They were back fishing, making a living.

The story has a familiar pattern, maybe in our own lives, too. A long night on frightening waters. Hunger. Uncertainty. Fear. And then, a familiar Voice, encouraging them to try another way.

Hear the voice of Pope Francis, calling us from heaven: Try another way.

My question, then, as I read this gospel: what new way is God showing  me? Do I have the faith to cast my net to the other side?

What behaviors have not been fruitful for you? How will you try another way?

Kathy McGovern ©2025