How do people find hope in the face of suffering and death? That is the question addressed by today’s scriptures. We hear of the suffering of Jeremiah and the psalmist. We hear of the death that “reigned from Adam to Moses” (Romans 5:14). We hear of the fears of the Twelve as Jesus sends them out into the world to preach and heal.

Through all this tribulation one message rings out loud and clear—“Do not be afraid!” The God who saved Jeremiah and the psalmist and Jesus is fully present to save us through the gracious gift of Jesus Christ. We have nothing and no one to fear.

At the heart of today’s solemnity is a Eucharistic procession, held in many parishes, that calls to mind the procession of Holy Thursday, yet has a purpose different from the somber adoration in the night watch. In the late Middle Ages, a procession through the city with the Blessed Sacrament was an occasion of heartfelt joy and great emotion. In a time when people seldom approached the altar to receive Holy Communion, the procession through the streets, past homes, and workplaces was a vibrant reminder that Christ was with them as a dear companion and guide.

Every year on this day, a joyful procession winds through the streets of Rome from the Lateran
cathedral. A few years ago, Pope John Paul II, deeply moved at the sight of the throng accompanying the sacred host, said that we ought to feel profoundly united with the faithful everywhere in the world at such a moment. “Before our mind’s eye all the Churches of the world, from East to West, from North to South, are present.” Originally this feast was on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday, but after the calendar reform of 1970, its title was expanded from “Corpus Christi” to “The Body and Blood of Christ” and in the United States, it was moved to the Sunday after Trinity Sunday. Even though Easter season ended two weeks ago, this beautiful feast is aglow with Easter light.

The God of the universe is mysterious. Science has not been able to solve the mystery of how the universe came into being or explain exactly what continues to give it creative energy and masterful design. No religion asserts that it has found words to name fully the ineffable mystery of God, for no matter what name we use, God always transcends our limited ability to understand. God is a mystery to be believed, not known. And yet, we Christians believe that our name for God best expresses that inexpressible mystery: God is the Most Holy Trinity of three persons united in a communion of love, pouring forth that creative, saving, sanctifying love into the world. Today’s scriptures celebrate the mystery of the Trinity and give us clues for living that mystery in our lives.

Last week we heard that, following the Ascension, the disciples, Mary, and other followers of the Lord retreated to the upper room in prayer. Thisweek we hear that, while praying in that room, the Holy Spirit comes upon them. Jesus’ post-Resurrection promise, recounted in today’s Gospel, is fulfilled: the power of the Holy Spirit comes upon Jesus’ followers. Saint Paul tells us that all of us, in some way, are given gifts of the Holy Spirit, gifts that can be used to spread the Good News. Today is one of the Church’s greatest festivals. Let us carry the refrain of the responsorial psalm with us throughout the coming week: “Lord, send out your Spirit, and renew the face of the earth!” (Psalm 104:30).

Throughout this Easter season the readings have drawn us into the experience of the early church. We have tasted the excitement and zeal of the first Christians. Now, with them, we listen to the words of Saint Peter, who reminds us that when people notice that we are people of hope, we should be ready to explain why. This challenges us.

Do others even notice that we are people of hope? In a world often marked by cynicism and hopelessness, do we stand out as people who offer hope and reassurance to others? In today’s Gospel Jesus promises that when he leaves the earth he will not leave us orphaned. Today he promises to send his Advocate, the Spirit of truth who will be with us always. Let us acknowledge the presence of the Holy Spirit and ask the Spirit to make us people of hope.

Today we sense the apostles’ trepidation as they begin to realize that the Lord would soon be leaving them. In their fear, they ask, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” (John 14:5). Jesus tells them that he is the way. The Easter season has been a time of growing in Easter faith so that we, too, may learn to know that Jesus is the way. We can take comfort in the Lord’s promise that he is going to his Father’s house to prepare a place for us, his chosen people who have been called out of darkness into God’s wonderful light. As the paschal candle continues to burn during this holy season, let us remember that in baptism we were given the light of Christ. With Christ our light as the beacon lighting our way, let us march toward the glory of Pentecost.

The Twenty-third Psalm, today’s responsorial psalm, is arguably the best known of all the psalms. The line that reads “Even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side with your rod and your staff  that give me courage” (Psalm 23:4) connects this week’s scriptures to the wonderful story of the road to Emmaus, which we heard last week.

The Lord Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is constantly at our side. He calls us each by name, beckoning us into a deeper relationship with him. That call, issued to each of us at the moment of our baptism, carries with it the promise of the Good Shepherd: “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).

The fact that many monastic churches do not have a prominent tabernacle shapes the patterns of liturgical prayer. Monastic communities often protect the ancient value of “receiving from the same sacrifice,” meaning that the communicants are assured that what they eat and drink in the Holy Mysteries actually comes from the same celebration. It surprises many to learn that the Church does not foresee, nor does it provide for, Communion of the faithful from the reserved Sacrament. Liturgical laws have long defended your right to receive from the same sacrifice, the same Mass, that you attend.

As Christmas draws near, Advent’s scriptures lure us into a world of dreams, signs, wonders, and the miracle of the virgin birth. Too often we allow the great stories of our faith, the ones that are most familiar, simply to wash over us. Today’s Gospel account of the events leading up to the birth of the Lord reads like a present-day soap opera.

Today we can bask in the imagery that the Mass readings offer us. In particular, Isaiah’s vision of a parched land that blooms with abundant flowers holds a message for each of us. Too often we are just like that parched land. We can allow ourselves to become absorbed in the waves of consumerism that grip so many. We look for fulfillment in the things that money can buy. Unfortunately, this leaves us like parched land, thirsting for something that money can’t buy.

The Second Vatican Council decreed that the devotional life of the Church should be examined and reformed with an eye towards expressing Easter faith. This encouragement for creativity has deep roots in our tradition, and some attempts at reform show great promise. One of the great treasures in our devotional repertoire is a familiar feature of Lent: the Way of the Cross. The faithful walk a path recalling the events of Christ's passion, a contemplative experience increasingly enriched these days by scripture and song. There are fourteen stations in the usual configuration, although in recent years, a fifteenth station of the Empty Tomb has been added. Why stop there? Why not develop a similar journey structured on the theme of the appearances of the Risen Lord?

We return to our reflections on the rites of marriage with a brief consideration of reforms from the Council of Trent. When the Protestant Reformation took hold, the fairly recent achievements of the Church in regard to the sacrament of marriage were reviewed with a critical, reforming eye. In general, Protestants returned to an earlier view that marriage was a civil matter, although some said that the civil society had to be in harmony with Christian teaching.

What will help you to believe? Today’s scripture readings tell of faith and doubt. They offer stories “recorded to help you believe,” as the passage from John’s Gospel (20:31) remarks today. There is an urgency about this. On this Second Sunday of Easter we are challenged to join the company of believers—countless men and women who witnessed the power of the apostles’ faith.