Readings: The Resurrection of the Lord | USCCB 

Today’s Gospel reading has always captivated me because it is so detailed and realistic – making the point more than once, for example, that John ran faster to the tomb than Peter did. The passage even inspired a bit of envy when I was younger. If only I could have lived while Jesus walked among us, and I could have run alongside the disciples that morning to bear witness to the empty tomb with my own eyes. Perhaps then faith would come more easily, and doubt would be kept at bay by what I had seen directly and could never forget. 

My envy was misplaced, of course. The vast majority of those who encountered Jesus during his life did not drop everything and follow him. Great crowds were not rushing to check the tomb that morning. Most who saw Jesus with their own eyes had turned away and moved on with their lives. 

And from the vantage point of today, my faith is strengthened by all that followed from that empty tomb: a ragtag, fear-filled band of disciples transformed into a world-changing movement of missionaries and martyrs. The impact of the empty tomb on their lives speaks powerfully to its historical veracity. And the sweep of Church history, filled with saints and sinners alike, underscores God’s saving work in this world, century after century. Jesus’ friends who came upon the empty tomb that morning did not have the breadth of understanding we enjoy today. Even they, as G.K. Chesterton put it, could have “hardly realized that the world had died in the night,” and that they were beholding “the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardener God walked again in the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn.” 

The resurrection is the event on which human history turns, and I did not need to be present that morning to grasp its significance. For me, the question of why the empty tomb matters has long been settled; the question I’m asked to grapple with every day is: how shall I live in light of why it matters? 

I pray that this Easter season strengthens your faith and reminds you of the hope from which our joy arises. Happy Easter! 

Robert K. Vischer
President 

Readings: Fifth Sunday of Lent | USCCB 

The account of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in this week’s Gospel is so wonderfully human.  Mary and Martha are mourning the death of their dear brother after he fell gravely ill.  The disciples fear for their and Jesus’ safety.  People are concerned about the stench that a body may have after four days in a tomb.  Jesus himself weeps.  There is sadness, anxiety, and loss.  It’s all very tactile and messy.      

Through this story Jesus makes something clear – he does not diminish the human experience.  On the contrary, he embraces all that it is to be human and shares it with us.  He does not begrudge our emotions or require that we suppress them to draw near to him.  Upon Jesus’ arrival to their home, Mary and Martha were consumed with grief and lamented that their beloved brother would not have died had He only come sooner.  Even while knowing the miracle that he would soon perform, Jesus did not cast off their suffering or shame their sorrow but was deeply moved by their pain.   

Yet Jesus did not go to Judea to simply comfort mourners.  In the midst of their sadness, he asked that Mary and Martha trust that there was more to come.  With a heart full of compassion for his friends, Jesus showed that his ways are not our own as he beckoned their brother to rejoin the living.  As the once-dead Lazarus walked out of his tomb, Jesus proved that he can save us from the weakest parts of our humanity, even that which we may believe is without hope.   

May these final days of Lent encourage us to bring all that we are the Jesus, without reservation.  May we have confidence that he can and will bring what is dead in us to life by the glory of his resurrection.  

Portrait of Michelle Rash, Program Manager, Terrence J. Murphy Institute for Catholic Thought, Law, and Public Policy, taken in the common room of Sitzmann Hall on August 9, 2022, in St. Paul.

Michelle Rash
Program Manager 

Terrence J. Murphy Institute for Catholic Thought, Law, and Business 

Readings: Fourth Sunday of Lent | USCCB 

He thirsts for the conversion of human hearts.  

And, figuratively, He ran, hastening to achieve the remission of our sins. 

Extracted from Arnold of Bonneval’s reflection on The Seven Last Words of Christ, these words capture not only the essence of the fifth word of Christ from the Cross, “I Thirst,” but reflect the themes of mercy and conversion running deep within the readings for this weekend.  

The parable of the prodigal son illustrates ‘thirst’ from various perspectives – the younger son seeking independence, the older son wanting recognition, and the father desiring relationship.  

Our lives have likely run parallel at one time or another with these characters. Perhaps like you, I relate more closely with the sons than with the father. However, through God’s mercy, I know that our inclinations for independence and recognition can only be life-giving when used in support of our relationship with the Living Font through whom all blessings flow.  

When struck with thirst, the last thing we want to do is run. During the remaining weeks of Lent and beyond, may our desire for relationship with God reflect more closely the intensity with which God pursues us.    

O thirst most life-giving, desirous of our friendship: 

O penetrating thirst, shattering the sinful desire of the heart! 

Lord, grant that I may thirst always for you. 

-St. Bonaventure, De Septem Verbis Domini in Cruce 

Professor Jacob Benda teaches organ to a student in Aquinas Chapel on May 19, 2022, in St. Paul.

Dr. Jacob Benda
Director of Music, Liturgy and Sacred Arts 

Campus Ministry 

Readings 

The Samaritan Woman 

Tradition calls the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4 “Photina,” that is, “the enlightened one.”  Her story shows a dramatic turn: a discouraged outcast receives the light of truth about Christ and immediately becomes an enthusiastic evangelist.  She finds Jesus at the well in the loneliest part of the day and he surprises her by asking for a drink, despite the cultural taboos.  He takes her experiences and questions seriously and offers her “living water.” 

The pairing of this story with Moses striking the rock is ingenious. In the Exodus reading, the thirsty Israelites are in the desert and Moses cries out to God for water. God instructs him to strike the rock with his staff and water miraculously gushes forth. God says, “I will be standing there in front of you on the rock,” directing the blow to just the right spot. 

By analogy, then, the woman is the rock while Christ is Moses, while yet also being God “standing there in front of you.” Jesus strikes the rock, seeking the reservoir of faith hidden, and she responds generously, even gushingly.  She runs back into her town of Sychar, telling everyone, “Come see a man who told me everything I have done. Could he possibly be the Messiah?” The town turns out to be another great reservoir, ready to be found. As Christ says in John 7:38, “Whoever believes in me, as scripture says: ‘Rivers of living water will flow from within him.’”  

Take a moment to pause and picture yourself as a rock in the desert. Ask Christ to seek and find your hidden reservoir of faith. Do you fear the blow? Or do you fear that your well-spring is dry?  Then ask him to fill it, saying with Photina, “Sir, give me this water.” 

Katy Wehr 

Managing Editor, Logos: A Journal of Catholic Thought and Culture 

Center for Catholic Studies 

For a different musical reflection on this passage, listen to my song “The Samaritan Woman” from my 2018 album of songs about women in the Gospels, And All the Marys. 

Readings: Second Sunday of Lent | USCCB

All four gospels are unique and distinct, each having its own way of portraying the life of Christ. However, in Matthew, Mark, and Luke the Transfiguration belongs to a consistent sequence: (1) Jesus makes his first prediction of his coming death, (2) he explains that his followers must “take up their cross daily” (Lk 9:23), (3) and Jesus is transfigured on a mountaintop, becoming a brilliant figure while Moses and Elijah flank him. The Transfiguration seems to play a reassuring role following the passion prediction and the message of discipleship. 

Of the three accounts of the Transfiguration, why did the Church choose Luke’s account for a Lenten reading? Most likely because of the mention of the “exodus” or “departure” that Jesus “was about to accomplish at Jerusalem” (Lk 9:31). The use of this word connects Jesus’ coming death with the rescue of the slaves from Egypt, showing that Jesus’ death, too, will be a great, saving event. Also, the term evokes the forty years during which the escaped Hebrew wandered in the desert. This was a time of trial, just as Jesus’s forty days in the desert, were a time of trial, and just as today’s forty days of Lent are meant to be a time of growth and self-denial. 

It is also instructive to reflect on the Transfiguration in the context of Mark’s gospel. Shortly after this event, James and John, apparently inspired by having seen Moses and Elijah flanking Jesus, ask Jesus for the honor of sitting at his left and right hands when he comes into glory. Jesus reprimands them by saying that “among the Gentiles” the rulers “lord it over them and their great ones are tyrants over them.” Among Jesus’s disciples, however, “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be the slave of all” (Mk 10:42–44). When is Christianity, in our society, about exalting oneself and seeking advantages for one’s group, and when is it about being a friend and servant to all? 

Dr. Ted Ulrich
Theology Department 

Readings: First Sunday of Lent | USCCB

The Gospel for the first Sunday in Lent is always the account of Jesus’ time in the wilderness, this year from Luke. To understand this text, it is important to remember what comes immediately before it, i.e., Jesus’ baptism by John in the River Jordan, his experience of the Holy Spirit resting on him like a dove, and his hearing a voice from heaven declaring, “You are my son, my beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Today’s text follows this cluster of experiences, proclaiming, “Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tested by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over he was famished.”  

 Some details to note here: First, Jesus is filled with the Holy Spirit following his baptism; second, it is that same Spirit who leads him into the wilderness; third, his reason for being in the wilderness is to be tested (a much better translation than “tempted”); finally, the tester is the devil or diabolic one. The text suggests that this testing continued for Jesus’ entire time in the wilderness but reaches its conclusion at the end of this time, when he is most vulnerable, “famished” after fasting for 40 days. 

What is being tested during these wilderness days? Scholars suggest that the test is how Jesus will fulfill his vocation as the Spirit-filled Son of God. What kind of Son of God will he be? One who chases after social, political, or religious power, or something more? The devil’s three tests raise these challenges. It is important to affirm that each of these kinds of power could be means to do good. The hardest tests are between good and good, not good and evil. In each case, Jesus’ vocation calls him to go deeper.  

President Rob Vischer regularly speaks about the ways the University of St. Thomas helps students to discern their vocations. As he pointed out at the university’s Employee Recognition event last week, this discernment is not just for students, but for staff and faculty as well.  

Filled with the Spirit and armed with Scripture, the Lenten wilderness which we have entered this week may invite each of us to test our identity as beloved daughters and sons of God and discern the ways in which our vocations call us to go deeper.  

Bob Shoemake directs the Selim Center for Lifelong Learning