Wednesday of the Second Week of Easter

Today's Mass Readings

In this reading, we hear that the Jewish Sanhedrin became jealous of the apostles’ popularity with the people. They haul the apostles into the public jail and prepare to convene a trial against them. In the night, the angel of the Lord frees the apostles and says, “Tell the people everything about this life.” As the next day dawns, the court officers find the jail locked securely with guards still stationed at their posts, but no sign of the apostles. This jealousy turns to fear as the captain of the guard finds the apostles preaching in the temple area, amassing a large crowd of new believers. The guards once again bring the apostles into custody, but gently, to avoid the crowd rising in righteous revolt on the apostles’ behalf.

The miracle of this account is the power of God’s love defying human attempts to stifle it. Long-standing authority systems, prison doors, and chains cannot hold back the Gospel of God’s love, which reaches out and touches the hearts of everyone. Divine love breaks down every obstacle to reach our hearts, but it does not force itself into our hearts, which prove to be the most stubborn obstacles of all. The Jewish leaders had every opportunity to embrace Christ’s love; Christ performed miracles in their midst and called them out of their old ways of thinking. He reached out time and again with a message of love so grand and yet so real that it frightened them. It is this obstacle of the heart, this fear, which led the Jewish leaders to imprison the apostles and attempt to stamp out every trace of the name of Jesus. Love called out to them, love died a criminal’s death for them, love broke the gates of Hell and rose again with promises of life eternal for them. That same love would also wait patiently outside the door of their hearts. God’s love would ask, seek, and knock when it had every right to receive, find, and enter.

There are moments in our lives when we, like the Sanhedrin, forbid God’s love to make a difference in our lives. The fear of what could be asked of us, or perhaps the fear of surrendering our own lives, prompts us to close our hearts. Christ’s love is not conditional, and it seeks to permeate every ounce of our very being without reserve. The true joy of the resurrection should come when we let this perfect love cast out our fear, and we embrace this new life.

Reflection by Peter, seminarian