Bishop Barron’s Sunday Sermons - Catholic Preaching and Homilies

Friends, every year we have Trinity Sunday followed by today’s wonderful Solemnity of Corpus Christi—two of the highest theological mysteries of our faith, the Trinity and the Eucharist, back to back. As we reflect today on the Body and Blood of Jesus, I want to explore the deep connection between temple sacrifice, the altar of the cross, and the Mass.

Friends, today is Trinity Sunday—one of my favorite feast days of the year because I can put my old theologian’s cap on. Looking first at one of the greatest of the medieval theologians, Saint Bonaventure, and then at maybe the greatest figure in Western theology, Saint Augustine, I’d like to reflect with you on the dynamics of the Trinitarian life—the very matrix into which we’re inserted through baptism.

Friends, this is the great feast of Pentecost, the feast of the Holy Spirit. In the First Reading, the Spirit manifests himself as a strong driving wind, and while you can’t see the wind directly, you can see its effects. The text I want to reflect on today is not in the readings but is one of my favorites: Galatians 5:22–26, when St. Paul talks about “the fruit of the Spirit.” And it’s precisely to this same point: What are the signs that the Holy Spirit is operative in us?

Friends, getting the Ascension of the Lord right is very important for understanding many aspects of the Church’s life. So I want to dwell on that a little bit with you today, and I want to do so under two headings: the first I’m going to call more political, and the second more liturgical. They are both hinted at in the great statement in the Creed that we recite week after week: “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.”

Friends, we come to the Sixth Sunday of Easter, and as the Church readies us for Pentecost, the readings begin to talk about the Holy Spirit. In today’s Gospel, Jesus, speaking to his disciples the night before he dies, says, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.” In the beginning was the Word, and the Word became flesh. But God spoke his Word into human minds that take it in, mull it over, and look at it from different angles, the idea developing across space and time. And so we need a divine interpreter of the divine Word.

Friends on this Fifth Sunday of Easter, we have an extraordinary Gospel that is at the heart of the Christian thing. Jesus, at the beginning of a lengthy and incredibly rich monologue he gives the night before he dies, says to his disciples, “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” This is not a sentimental or psychological banality. To understand Jesus here, we have to understand what a strange thing love is—and the way the word is being used.

Friends, on this Fourth Sunday of Easter, we have this marvelous, short but very punchy reading from the Gospel of John: Jesus referring to himself as the good shepherd. This is a remarkably apt metaphor for how God reaches out to us—knows us personally—and how we are able to discern and follow his voice. But how do we hear the voice of the shepherd? In a lot of ways—but I wonder if the clearest way isn’t through the conscience, which John Henry Newman called the aboriginal Vicar of Christ in the soul.

Friends, on this Third Sunday of Easter, we have the magnificent Gospel from the very end of the Gospel of John, chapter twenty-one, which is so rich theologically. We see here, on full display, what it means for us—who are all ambiguous characters—to stop resisting the cross of self-denial and love and to walk the way of the Lord.

Friends, we enter now into the Easter season, and here is the thing I want you to know: We misunderstand Easter dramatically when we think primarily of spring festival time, the weather getting nicer, and Easter bunnies and bonnets. All of that is great; but if you don't understand Easter as a revolution—as an earthquake that has changed the entire world—you have not understood it.

Friends, happy Easter! Many of you probably know that I’ve spent much of my life reading philosophers and spiritual writers—Plato, Aristotle, Confucius, Cicero, Marcus Aurelius, Anselm, Aquinas, Kant, Hegel. What all those figures have in common is a kind of calm, musing detachment as they talk about high ideas. Well, there’s all of that—and then there’s the Gospel, the “Good News.” Yes, the Gospels have inspired philosophers and spiritual teachers, but at their heart, they’re not abstracted philosophical musing; they’re the urgent conveying of news. Something happened—and I need you to know about it!