Reflecting on John 10: 11-18

Here’s the problem: The GOOD shepherd, the one who loves to the ends of the earth, often meets a terrible and violent death. Jesus knows this. He knows that wolves run in packs, and if the good shepherd tries to protect the sheep from the wolves, the shepherd may well be killed.

Jesus met the death that awaited many good shepherds throughout history. Hunted down by packs of ravenous humans, hungry for revenge, bribed by corporations, fueled by ignorance, caught in the cancers of culture and contempt, the history of the Church is the history of martyrs. Jesus tells us, early in John’s gospel (10:11-18), that he will be martyred for us.

But good shepherds don’t need to be martyred to be inspirations. I recently met a young violinist from Montreal. Asked if he knew the story of the famous St. André Bessette, a monk who devoted his entire vocation to answering the door at the monastery in Montreal, he said, “No, in Montreal we have huge devotions to St. Joseph.”

“Aha!” I said. “Then you do know St. André! He’s the one who spread the devotion to St. Joseph all through Canada.” That’s a good shepherd. St. André was so beloved in Montreal that over one million people processed by his casket, kissing it and touching it, and sharing stories about the love with which he answered the door.

GOOD shepherds lay down their lives in little and large ways. Take you, for instance. I’ll bet you lay down your life many times a day. You don’t realize it, but through the humble witness of your life, like St. André, you are spreading devotion to Christ everywhere you go.

Who have been the good shepherds in your life?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on Acts 3: 13-15, 17-19

What torment the Jewish audience must have felt when Peter, shaking with the joy of the Risen Christ, addressed them in the Temple. He and John had JUST raised up a crippled man in the name of Jesus Christ, and he was now in the Temple, “walking and  jumping and praising God” (Acts 3:8).

Now those astonished Israelites listened as Peter upbraided them for their complicity in the passion and death of the very NAME who had just healed that crippled man, whom they had seen begging at the Temple gate for years.

How it must have stung to hear Peter say, “Now I know that you acted out of ignorance, just as your leaders did” (vs. 17).

That’s the sentence that should land, like an arrow, in our own hearts. Is there any one of us who has not narrowly escaped a life-altering experience which we created out of ignorance, or arrogance, or just dumb youth?

I remember one day from my twenties. Not accustomed to alcohol, I’d been out for “happy hour” with some friends from work. After only one drink I was definitely impaired, but didn’t realize it until I was driving home. I very nearly escaped hitting the car in front of me. Terrified, I pulled into a parking lot and stayed there for at least an hour. Only a few blocks from home, I crept up side streets to my house. I fell on my knees in thanksgiving.

O merciful God, thank you that you have rescued us from our ignorant behaviors. We ask for your merciful Presence in the lives of those whose ignorance has ruined their lives, and the lives of those they’ve hurt.

When did you act out of ignorance, only to fall on your knees in repentance?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on John 20: 19-31

Many years ago I heard an astonishing confession of a friend of mine who was a diocesan priest. Around Eastertime, he admitted that, early in his priesthood, he hadn’t believed in the resurrection. He tried everything, prayed with his spiritual director, consulted all the latest books about it, but his heart was hard. He just couldn’t believe.

He proceeded with ordination, never disclosing this wrenching ache. He kept this secret quiet, of course, until the grace of the Spirit removed any doubt that Jesus rose from the dead. In later years, he willingly shared with those coming to the Church for baptism and full initiation how vehemently he had struggled with the central tenet of our faith.

He had trusted that a faithful priesthood would bring him the grace to believe, and he was right. He was a powerful and effective pastor for many years. There were decades of glorious, faith-filled Easters in his priesthood, each with grateful Elect, whose faith had been stronger than his in the early years.

I think of him this Divine Mercy Sunday. He was a quiet dissenter, not nearly as open as Thomas about his doubts. Thomas stands as a great example of an insider whose own faith struggle did not ostracize him from the group.

He was one of the Twelve, but he refused to believe in the resurrection! Still, he remained in community, eating and praying with those with whom he had lived and traveled for three years.

Today is the day to ask for Divine Mercy for all the dissenters among us, that they would NEVER feel unwanted, or “less than” those whose faith hasn’t been challenged in hard ways.

Are there parts of the Creed with which you struggle?

Kathy McGovern©2024

Reflecting on John 20:1-9

Why didn’t everyone living in Jerusalem see the Risen One after his resurrection?  Acts says: God…granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us…(10: 40-41). I know that if I had seen Him hanging on the cross that awe-full Friday, I would have felt cheated that he didn’t appear to me, RAISED and RADIANT, that glorious Sunday.

Even Peter and the Beloved Disciple, after racing to the tomb, left without actually SEEING Jesus. It was only Mary Magdalene, whose story follows today’s gospel in John 10: 11-18, who actually saw him, and at first even she mis-took him for the gardener.

Balaam, the famous “seer,” couldn’t see God’s huge angel right there in the road (Nm. 22). And Elisha’s servant couldn’t see God until Elisha prayed that God would open his eyes to see the hills full of angelic chariots all around (2 Kgs. 6:17).

Most telling of all, Jesus’ own disciples spent Easter Sunday on the road with him and didn’t recognize him until the Breaking of the Bread (Lk. 24: 13-35). Jesus eventually appeared to over five hundred believers, according to St. Paul, who admits he got the story from Peter (I Cor. 15: 5-8). We have seen the Lord! they cried with joy. Lucky them.

But maybe he HAS appeared, to everyone who longed for him that day, and the billions who have longed for him since. Maybe we have felt his Presence, and sensed his nearness, countless times in our lives.

So let me ask you: who was that with you, in the Delivery Room, on your First Communion Day, at the graveside of a loved one? Ah. Of course. Lucky you. You have seen the Lord.

Where do you look for the Risen Lord these days?

Kathy McGovern ©2024

Reflecting on Acts 2:1-11

We were all waiting still in that same Upper Room.

You know, the one right above David’s tomb?

Mary, his mother, was there, to be sure.

We all had a lifetime of questions for her.

What was he like as a child? And then:

Do you think that he knew He was God, and when?

We remembered him turning that water to wine.

But somehow we didn’t know He was Divine.

Then we couldn’t stop it, as much as we tried:

Something was coming right at us, inside!

A noise coming up like a strong, driving wind

And it filled all the space of the house we were in.

And fire, like flames, hovered o’er each of us!

We were stunned, we were shaking, rejoicing, and PLUS

You know how the foreigners fill up the Square?

We could speak in the language of everyone there.

So THIS was the Promised One, Spirit so strong

We could feel history move, and then carry us along.

We cried, we laughed, we were filled with such courage

That even the Cross would never discourage

Each one of the Twelve, on this day of NEW BIRTH,

From reaching to preach to the ends of the earth.

O Spirit, O Comforter, come with Thy Aid,

To fill all who are reading this poem today.

How do you feel the grace of the Holy Spirit in your life?

Kathy.McGovern ©2021

Reflecting on Acts 1: 1-11

Nine days—novena —before Pentecost, Jesus said You are my witnesses to the ends of the earth.

Seriously? Us? Well, okay then. We can do this. We have done this. We will do this. And with Pentecost right around the corner, we’ll get an extra boost of SPIRIT to help us do this.

I recently read a shocking letter, written by a woman who had a terrible experience dropping into a new church after having to leave her home in order to place her husband in nursing care. She was heartbroken, lonely, depressed. She went to a new church where she knew no one. She received no welcome, no “Hey, you’re new here, aren’t you?” She begged the leadership to help her find a bible study, or someone to pray with her, or help companion her during the sad transition she was undergoing, but she received no comfort.

Can you imagine that? At our parish a new person walking in better be able to run, because we’re going to love them within an inch of their lives.

But it’s not like the old days out there. People have truly been left behind in so many ways. Have you seen Nomadland? That was a revelation. There is an actual community of people who travel the country in old campers and RVs, who find family with each other when they meet up at roadside camp sites.

I wonder if the best way to bear witness to Jesus is to just shower the people who come into our lives with love. The waitress, the mail carrier, the police officer — show them Jesus this week. Then watch what the Spirit will do.

Ready. Set. GO.

How will you shower the world with love in this week before Pentecost?

Kathy McGovern ©2021

Reflecting on Acts 10:25-26, 34-35, 44-48

Today was the greatest day of my life. Even though I am a Roman centurion and not a Jew, I love the God of Abraham, and I longed to learn more about this Jesus whom the entire territory is talking about.

When the angel appeared to me and told me about a man named Simon Peter who was staying in Joppa, I hoped that this was the same Peter who was the great apostle of Jesus. I sent messengers to ask him to come here to Caesarea.

When he entered my house I was overcome. I fell to my knees, but he lifted me up and said, “I too am only a man.” So this was Peter. He possessed great power, and a quiet strength born of great suffering. I had prayed that the man whom the angel told me to summon was he. And now this legend, this man whose faith Jesus said he would build his church upon, was standing in my home.

And a Jew! Standing in the home of a Gentile! We were all in shock. As it turns out, he had just had a vision himself, just before my messengers arrived in Joppa. In his vision he saw animals of every kind, clean and unclean, and then God told him that all food was “clean,” and good to eat.

Everything we thought we knew about God has been turned upside down! From now on, the Jews don’t need to keep kosher dietary laws any more, and we Gentiles can be part of God’s salvation even though our men aren’t circumcised! Peter said, “I begin to see that God shows no partiality.”

And, one by one, we all began to see it too.

In what ways have you learned that God loves all people?

Kathy McGovern ©2021

Reflecting on John 15: 1-8

Can you imagine what you would look like if everything in your life that wasn’t bearing fruit got pruned away? I’d be a scarecrow.  I’ve got boxes of book ideas that have never seen the light of day. I’ve got the most well-meaning projects— scrapbooks, video memories, clothes I’m going to fit back into—that sit in mute witness against me every time I open the closet and the drawer.

But today I think you should take inventory of all the things that ARE bearing fruit in your life. You’ve stayed faithful to your parish community. You’ve read, and studied, and stayed apprised of the readings for Mass. You somehow kept your families together during the pandemic. Nobody starved (I’m assuming). You stayed close with, and available to, your kids and grandkids, your siblings and parents, even if you couldn’t see them in person.

Think of the people you know who bear much fruit—literally. I’m thinking of the people who stock the produce section of the grocery store. I always compliment them on how fresh and delicious the fruits and vegetables look. I’m always touched at how much pride they take in their work. Being close to the vine every day produces a holy person, I think.

A lifetime of conscious participation in the life of the Church keeps us bearing fruit too. I know so many people whose good works haven’t slowed down during the shutdown. In fact, people who were already “doing too much” doubled their efforts to get food to the hungry, and to show love in a thousand ways.

And love, said St. Teresa of Calcutta, is a fruit in season at all times.

How is God glorified through the fruit of your life?

Kathy McGovern ©2021

Reflecting on John 10: 1-18

Is anybody besides me worried that, once the pandemic is officially over, and the restaurants, and schools, and libraries, and gyms are all back to the Roaring Twenties, our churches won’t recover the numbers they had before?

I’m worried that it was so easy to stay home on Sunday and worship virtually that, once the virtual Masses are no more, the staying home will remain. With all my heart I hope not, because the Good News is that we have SO MUCH that the world needs, now more than ever.

As we all emerge from the darkness of shutdown into the light of traffic, and sports contests, and catching up with family and friends, will we yearn for that spiritual connection with our parishes, with the hymns we sang in community, with the hundreds of vital good works in which every parish engages?

Of course yes. Just this past weekend I saw parishioners I didn’t know before the shutdown. I met them on ZOOM, in classes our parish held as one of its many creative approaches to keeping us connected. It was such fun to meet these new friends in person! There must be dozens of new friends I’ve made through these ZOOM events. We’ve all said we can’t wait to finally meet, face to face (or mask to mask), when this is all over.

What good is there in knowing Jesus, the Good Shepherd, if the sheep don’t come when they hear his voice? The world is desperate for the healing and joy that we sheep can bring to the world in his Name. Let’s all fill our churches again, that the world might live.

How do you hear the Good Shepherd calling you?

Kathy McGovern ©2021

Reflecting on Lk. 24: 35-48

The Lebanese-American writer Kahlil Gibran had it right, I think, when he spoke of grief. He described death as an incense bead which doesn’t break open until a loved one’s death. Then its perfume fills the room. “Death is the revealer of life,” he said. It’s only at death that the fullness of someone’s life breaks open.

All of a sudden we see them more clearly, and with so much more love (and longing) than we even did in life.

I suspect that happened for the disciples of Jesus. After his horrible death, the fullness of his life, and the meaning of his death, broke open. Now they had the rest of their lives to regret not loving him better, not staying and praying with him in the Garden, not fleeing from the Cross but, instead, staying and dying with him.

Maybe that’s what they were all saying, through their heartbreak and tears, that Easter evening. They may have been remembering, over and over, the precious moments they shared with him in his life, and accusing themselves of the grossest ignorance in not understanding who he was, and to what he had called them.

And then. Two disciples from Emmaus came running into that Upper Room with the most astonishing news. He’s alive! And we recognized him in the Breaking of the Bread! And no sooner had they announced this glorious news than Jesus Himself stood among them. And suddenly, nothing was ever the same again.

Are you longing for a deceased loved one? Imagine them just entering into your room right now. Oh, what endless joy! They are alive.

Trust this vision. Trust Jesus. They are alive.

How do you experience the presence of your deceased loved ones?

Kathy McGovern © 2021