Daily Reflection Thursday within the Octave of Easter

“May the strong and sure promises of our faith bring you comfort and peace. You will see your precious dear one again in a redeemed and glorified body, and nothing will take away your joy.” These are lines from a message I share in most every sympathy card I send. And now I claim these promises for me – and for the Church and world as we mourn the death of our Holy Father Francis. 



In God’s perfect timing, each of the Scripture readings gifted to us between now and Pentecost seems beautifully poised to remind us of that same sacred comfort. In our Gospel today, the eleven dispirited disciples and their colleagues in ministry have been hiding behind locked doors, initially flummoxed by the amazing report of the two returning Emmaus-bound “but- we-had-hoped” travelers. We hear the rollercoaster of so many emotions: Jesus appears, and the group moves from alarm and fright at the sighting of a ghost, to agitation and doubt, to the healing of shame with the gift of forgiveness and the greeting of peace, then an astonishment, incredulity, and a joy so great that they could not believe it. Jesus, asking for fish, opening minds to understand the Scriptures, now the Risen yet still embodied Lord, recognizable and connected to his history but transcending it – an unexplainable reality which beckons us into Mystery yet anchors one of the strongest promises of our faith. Resurrection of the body. Easter too good to be true.



And yet it was, and is. The disciples will go forth from that Upper Room. Anchored in their own experience of a Christ who had conquered all that would work to separate them from God’s love, even death, they found courage to proclaim Christ-resurrected even unto their own death. (We find Peter in today’s reading from Acts, boldly preaching in the temple area – arrests and imprisonment, and, ultimately martyrdom all ahead.) 



Another perfect-timing blessing… the release this spring of Pope Francis’ autobiography Hope. In one chapter, “Like a Child in its Mother’s Arms,” he shared the text of the personal confession of faith he wrote the morning of his ordination to the priesthood. HIs first prayer: “I want to believe in God the Father, who loves me as a son, and in Jesus, the Lord, who has poured out his Spirit in my life to make me smile and to bring me thus to the kingdom of eternal life.”



One priest friend told me that when a person has lived an embodied life of faith, the funeral homily writes itself – the life is the lesson. Pope Francis, we raise up your life as pastor, as servant and disciple of Christ. Your life’s testimony and witness is the preaching we will need in the coming days. We claim for you now, with a smile, your new place in the Kingdom. Condolences sent. Promises kept.