

Readings:
Acts 8:5-8, 14-17
Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20
1 Peter 3:15-18
John 14:15-21
All the earth continues to sing in the joy of the Risen Christ as the pulse of the Easter season quickens. We are approaching the fortieth day, moving toward the Ascension of the Lord and the culmination of this season at Pentecost. While the Ascension is reckoned this coming Thursday, most dioceses of the United States transfer it to next Sunday. (Considering that, the second reading and gospel of the Seventh Sunday of Easter could be read today because of that relocation.) Our readings for the Sixth Sunday continue to unfold the great fifty days of Easter as an experience of mystagogy — a breaking open of the Paschal Mystery into which we have all been baptized to help us reshape our new way of being in relation to God, Church, and the world.
Last Sunday’s gospel left us hanging, perhaps cultivating the same feeling the disciples had as they listened to Jesus’s farewell address: “I am going to the Father,” a rather abrupt ending. If that’s the case, they worry, how are we supposed to do “even greater works” without you? Jesus responds in today’s passage by drawing us more deeply into dialogue, a living dialogue of love as he promises the coming of the Spirit of Truth, the Advocate. As Jesus takes leave, he assures, we are not left alone as orphans. This image is striking in the way it captures our human condition in a world that is too often indifferent to the Gospel and as we search for our identity and connection amid so many competing claims on what our priorities and commitments should be.
The fraught condition of the world is captured as Philip, one of the seven, was forced from Jerusalem in the face of persecution. The readings of the Easter season have moved us out of the upper room, cowering in fear and despair. Then, fueled by an encounter with the Risen Lord in word and table, we go to the heart of the city. Now, in the face of the city’s rejection, Philip takes the Gospel outward still, bringing joy to Samaria with his Spirit-filled proclamation and life-restoring deeds. Samaria and its people were often regarded with contempt. Now, the proclamation of the Gospel overcomes the ancient rivalries and cultural barriers by finding communion in Christ and Spirit. Peter and John seal this experience so that the Samaritan’s initial faith can take root deep within, recognizing that this community has become a sign of the Risen Christ’s action and presence.
We who have also become one with Christ by water and the Spirit still face the rejection, insult, mockery, and slander of a world that is hell-bent on glorifying power, perpetuating violence, turning away from the hungry and the sick, leaving real orphans in its wake. But we are to remain grounded in hope. Our hearts are sanctified, made holy by the Spirit who dwells in us and brings us into communion with Christ, “who is in the Father.” This is the reason for our hope: That the Spirit who raised Jesus to life can raise us too from the death that surrounds us daily as well as the death that we will face. Having died with Christ in baptism, “God will also raise us, just as he raised Christ from death” (Rom 6:4). Always, in every sphere and moment of our life, we stand as narrators of this hope. We witness with “gentleness and reverence”: a gentleness that speaks with serenity and boldness of heart, not a shouting match based on force and forked tongue. We give our explanation with reverence, with respect for others, not with harsh reprimand and rigidity. Our witness in hope is not without risks in this world, but we can draw our strength from Christ who leads us to God.
Indeed, we are not orphans. We are, as the gospel proclaims, caught in a bond of love. “Love one another as I have loved you.” This is the command we are to keep. We heard this command as we entered the Easter Triduum on Holy Thursday, and it has been made visible to us in the way of the Cross and Resurrection. We are loved and we are to love in response. And as Jesus breaks open for us, we are caught up in the mutual love of our Triune God. We are not alone! The Spirit of Truth is near us, at our side, our defender, the one who is “called next to us” (advocate, paraclete). Our advocate comforts us and encourages us for we are indeed “one Body, one Spirit in Christ.” When we witness with hope the Spirit of Love in this broken world, we can do so knowing Christ is always with us, drawing us in freedom and love to an abiding communion. For this we can cry out with joy. Alleluia!
Richard E. McCarron, PhD