Homily, 23rd May – 7th Saturday of Easter

Today the Church stands at the end of the Acts of the Apostles.

And the ending is strange.

Almost unfinished.

St Paul arrives in Rome a prisoner.

Not triumphant outwardly.
Not honoured.
Not welcomed as a conqueror.

Chained.

Watched by soldiers.

And yet the Gospel has reached the heart of the empire.

That is the triumph hidden inside today’s reading.

Rome believed itself eternal.
Powerful.
Untouchable.

And into that mighty city comes a chained apostle carrying the name of Jesus Christ.

And in the end, Rome will not convert Paul.

Paul will help convert Rome.

Then Paul says something striking:

“It is because of the hope of Israel that I wear this chain.”

The chain matters.

Because Paul is suffering not for politics, not for ambition, not for crime—

but for hope.

Christian hope.

The proclamation that Christ is risen from the dead.

That sin is conquered.
That death is broken.
That eternal life is now open.

That is what the world could not tolerate.

And in truth, it still struggles to tolerate it now.

Because the Resurrection changes everything.

If Christ truly rose, then no earthly power is ultimate.

No empire is absolute.

No worldly ideology can claim final authority.

Christ reigns.

And then the final lines of Acts are deeply beautiful.

Paul lives under guard in Rome:

“Proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ quite openly and unhindered.”

Unhindered.

Even in chains.

That is extraordinary.

The body may be chained.

The Gospel cannot be chained.

And throughout history this keeps happening.

The martyrs are imprisoned—

yet the Faith spreads.

The Church is persecuted—

yet she grows.

Because the risen Christ continues acting through His people.

Then the Gospel gives us a deeply human moment.

Peter turns and looks at John and asks:

“Lord, what about this man?”

It is such a familiar reaction.

Christ has just told Peter about the suffering and death awaiting him.

And immediately Peter looks sideways.

What about him?

Will his path be easier?
Different?
Safer?

And Christ answers sharply:

“What is that to you? Follow me.”

In other words:

Do not measure your discipleship against someone else’s.

Follow me.

That is a lesson almost every soul needs.

Because comparison poisons the spiritual life.

Why is their life easier?
Why do they suffer less?
Why is their path different?

But Christ calls each soul personally.

One may be called to hiddenness.
Another to suffering.
Another to public witness.

The question is never:
“What has Christ asked of someone else?”

The question is:
“Am I following Him faithfully?”

And then the Gospel ends with one of the most breathtaking lines in Scripture:

“There are also many other things that Jesus did; were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books.”

Christ is greater than words can contain.

Greater than human language.

Greater than history itself.

The Gospel accounts are not the whole of Christ.

Only what we need for salvation.

Because the mystery of Christ is inexhaustible.

The saints spend their lives entering deeper into Him and never reach the end.

And perhaps that is the perfect way to end Eastertide before Pentecost arrives.

The Acts of the Apostles ends—but the mission continues.

The Gospel closes—but Christ continues acting in His Church.

The apostles die—but the Faith spreads through every nation.

And now the mission reaches us.

Paul preached in chains.

Peter followed Christ toward martyrdom.

John bore witness through his Gospel.

And each followed differently.

But all followed the same Lord.

And this matters now because the modern world constantly distracts souls sideways.

Comparison.
Envy.
Restlessness.

But holiness begins when the soul finally fixes its eyes on Christ alone.

Not on the path of others.

On Him.

And this becomes concrete above all in the Eucharist.

Because there the risen Christ remains truly present among His people.

Not an idea.
Not a memory.

The living Lord.

The same Christ Paul preached in Rome.
The same Christ Peter followed to martyrdom.
The same Christ John loved and proclaimed.

So today the Church ends Eastertide with a final command from Christ that cuts through every distraction:

Follow me.

Not halfway.
Not only when convenient.

Follow me.

Through joy.
Through suffering.
Through hiddenness.
Through whatever path He chooses.

Because the Gospel continues moving through history.

And the risen Christ still calls disciples to leave everything behind and walk after Him.

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Categorized as Homilies
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By cathparishmje

3 Catholic Churches, 1 Catholic Presence.