“For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you.”

Whenever I read that beautiful passage from Deuteronomy 30, I remember my friend Becky, who wandered into the parish where I worked many years ago and immediately fell in love with the whole “Catholic Thing.”

She’d never been in a Catholic Church. She stared at the statues of the saints. When the Bread and Cup were elevated, she could scarcely breathe.

She became the most devout student. She could sit with the missalette for hours, asking questions about why we do what we do.

She was baptized, confirmed, and received her First Communion one Holy Saturday night. She was a true convert, joyfully brought into the Church she loved.

One day she said to me, “Catholics are so sophisticated. They know all about all the sacraments, and the saints, and all about the Mass. I never thought I was smart enough to be a Catholic. It’s so intimidating.”

Are we sophisticated? Intimidating? Of course not. But our rituals and traditions seem mysterious and remote to those joining us for the first time.

When you notice someone new in the pews, think about sitting next to them. Ask if they’d like some help following the Mass. Take a missalette and show them how to follow it.

Help a newcomer navigate the missalette. Explain those remote and mysterious parts of the Mass. I bet they’ll join us next Easter, grateful for the gifts we often take for granted.

Remember that Ethiopian eunuch who was reading the book of Isaiah when Philip asked him if he understood it. “How can I understand, if no one explains it to me?” (Acts 8).

Are there still some mysterious and remote parts of the Mass for you?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

What an interesting gospel.  Apparently, those 72 disciples were doing “advance work” in the towns Jesus planned to visit. Maybe they were sent to assure people that what they had heard about him was actually true.

Yes, they might have said, he truly did say that he was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecies! And when they tried to push him over the cliff he just passed right through them! And yes, he told his friends to cast their nets back in the water after they had fished all night, and the catch was so great they couldn’t haul it in! And yes, he did raise the widow’s son from the dead!

Imagine yourself on that mission. You don’t have anything to comfort you on the dusty road. No cell phone to stay in touch with family. No band aids for blisters. No extra jacket for the cold nights. It sounds, to my wimpy ears, like a miserable experience.

And yet, imagine being the first person to announce the kingdom of God to a city longing for that message. What joy. What grace. Oh yeah. I’d sign up for that.

Speaking of signing, those who bravely signed the Declaration of Independence agreed with Thomas Jefferson that “all men are created equal.” Some of them believed that so deeply that, if they owned slaves, they set them free. Jefferson himself, owned 175 slaves on the day of his death, the Fourth of July, 1826.

The kingdom is at hand, Jesus said. As we celebrate freedom this weekend, let’s consider how we are building the kingdom, and declaring our independence from the hypocrisies which dilute our witness to Christ.

What inconsistencies in your life keep you from truly experiencing freedom?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Matthew 16: 13-19

Peter and Paul had much in common. They lived, at times, in the same city (Jerusalem), and died in the same city (Rome). After their professions of faith, their names were changed. Saul became Paul, and Simon became Peter (Petra), whose faith was the rock upon which Christ built his church. And he will call his servants by a new name (Is. 65:15). 

They both fell to their knees in awe before Christ. For Peter, it was at the beginning of his journey with Jesus, when, after fishing all night and catching nothing, Jesus instructed him to cast his net on the other side of the boat, and a miraculous catch of fish followed.  When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8).

St. Paul’s fall is the most famous in all history:  As he neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Acts 9: 3,4)

Using the contemporary language around recovery, they both went into Spiritual Rehab after they betrayed Jesus. Peter went out and wept bitterly after denying that he knew Jesus (Luke 22: 62-64).

Paul, on the way to bring letters of authorization to persecute the Church, was struck blind for three days, and was ministered to by those whom he had thought were his enemies, the leaders of the Church in Damascus.

Some traditions insist that these two great saints died at the hands of the Emperor Nero on the same day, June 29th, 57 AD.

Sts. Peter and Paul, pray for us!

How have their stories been instrumental in the formation of your faith?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on I Cor. 11: 22-26

All these years later, I still can’t watch the movie Titanic. It’s just too terrifying. I was especially shocked to realize that the measure of who lived and died was exactly commensurate with how much money they had.

The wealthy, luxuriating in first class, had access to the limited number of lifeboats. Those who booked passage in steerage would not have the chance to survive that—everyone understood— belonged first to those who had a lot of money.

I think of that while listening to Paul’s letter to the Corinthians today. We only hear the section where he recounts the events of the Last Supper, but what comes before and after those words betrays Paul’s real message.

Just before he recounts the words of Jesus at the Last Supper (called the Institution Narrative), he scolds the Corinthians for taking a Titanic-type approach to the meal the Christians share in each other’s homes, in which the Eucharist is celebrated.

At the table, the rich get the nine places closest to the host. Those struggling to make ends meet are consigned to the atrium, the outer chamber, where they may or may not get anything to eat at all.

So, Paul says, (1Cor. 11: 17-22), some go ahead with their private suppers, and some have nothing to eat. Some get drunk while others go hungry. And then they scandalously receive the Eucharist!

St. Paul is appalled that such divisions should exist at the Eucharist, of all places. He reminds them of Jesus’ last words, because they speak of the eternal unity of the Bread, the Cup, and those who receive.

Happy Feast Day, Church. This is the feast that tells us who we are.

Do you remember your First Communion with joy?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Proverbs 8: 22-31

I particularly love this take on the Trinity that I got from my lifelong friend Fred, who got it from the great theologian Cynthia Bourgeault. imagine turning a kaleidoscope around and around, back and forth. You see thousands of images of the creation of the world. You see, in coalesced, kaleidoscopic prisms, all the animals, all the plants, all the rivers that came to birth because the Father called them into being.

You turn the kaleidoscope again, and hundreds of new images appear. There is the angel Gabriel, the Babe, the shepherds, and the angels.  With each turn, you see, in glorious color, shards of the life of Jesus. There is the Woman at the Well, and Lazarus rising from the tomb. The last turn allows you to witness Jesus’ own resurrection. What wonders live in this kaleidoscope!

Your third twisting of the tube takes you all the way back, before the world’s creation.  There are no depths, no hills, no fountains. No mountains, earth, fields, nor “first clods of the world.” But wait. Who is that playing—like a little child!—on the surface of the earth, delighting the Father day by day? That’s the Spirit, who animates all things, and gives the kaleidoscope its mysterious beauty.

Now, with each twist, you glimpse fragments of each of them in every frame, never individual, never alone, eternally changing, eternally THREE. And here’s the best part: as we gaze on them, they are gazing at us, seeing our sorrows and joys, our anxieties and hopes, and our futures, living in glory on high with Christ Jesus.

Can you SEE it? The Trinity is gazing at you, with eternal love, forever and ever, AMEN.

Can you imagine your life as it would be organized in a kaleidoscope?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Fire. We dread it, we fear it, we need it.

We look for the arsonist’s sparks that precede it.

Who lit the match? Now the city’s ablaze.

Tongues as of fire light tongues filled with praise.

It’s fire! It’s roaring, it’s soaring, it’s spreading.

It looks like it might be quite rapidly heading

To Your street, to Your house, and to Your heart, now lighting

A joy and a power the Spirit’s igniting.

We know how we got here. We kept our hearts still.

We listened to scripture. We searched for God’s will.

It started with Mary, her wide-hearted YES,

And now every Christian must kneel and confess

That our Jesus is LORD. Let all the earth tremble.

Let war zones, and drought zones, begin to resemble

The City of Peace, where wide rivers flow.

O Spirit, come heal us, that all hearts should know

That YOU are the Comforted soul’s welcome guest.

YOU are our wisdom, Refreshment, and Rest.

Lord, send your Spirit, and give grace, I pray

To every dear person who reads this today.

How can the Spirit help you this year?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Okay, Church. It’s that time of year again. This is the week when the entire Church does a full-court novena. We celebrate Ascension Thursday today, on a Sunday, because it often goes unnoticed on the weekday, and it’s a tremendous solemnity. So, yes, technically, the novena started last Thursday. Still, all 14 million practicing Catholics worldwide observe Ascension today, which means we collectively begin our joyful wait for the coming of the Spirit in one week.

We do this in solidarity with those disciples—Mary, the mother of Jesus, being foremost among them (Acts 1:12)—who followed Jesus’ instruction not to leave Jerusalem until they received the Spirit (Lk. 24:48). Nine days later, a noise like a driving wind filled the house where they were staying, and the Holy Spirit descended.

So YES! We keep this Pentecost novena (seven days, really) as a worldwide Church, and we wait in joyful hope for the Spirit to come to us in mighty ways next Sunday on the great feast of the Holy Spirit, the birthday of the Church.

I entreat us all to storm heaven during this particularly potent week of prayer. I’m begging for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza, and for immediate food and medicine to be rushed to the millions of people who will die of famine without humanitarian aid.

Once again this year, I invite each of us to imagine someone in the world of our same gender, age, and name who needs our prayers this year. There are at least thirteen different global spellings of Kathleen. Google your name and randomly choose someone. They can thank you when they meet you in heaven.

What will be your novena prayer this year?

 Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on Rev. 21: 10-14, 22-23

We’re getting close to the end of the Easter season, which means we’re getting close to the end of the Book of Revelation, which we only hear in the Easter season, except for the Feast of All Saints. What a mysterious and beautiful book it is. Sadly, many Christians waste their precious years poring over its more enigmatic sections, looking for codes to the day and the hour of the Second Coming. That’s not what it’s about, but people throughout time keep identifying the villains of their own day as the Anti-Christ.

Now, I’ve had my own suspicions of some figures in our time. Jeff Bezos, for example, gets my vote, because Amazon has so taken over our purchasing practices that if you don’t happen to have a computer, or the right credit card, you won’t be able to buy things nearly as easily as the rest of us. That evokes, in my brain, the many references in Revelation of those with the number 666 on their foreheads. These are the ones who have bent the knee to the Anti-Christ, and are the only ones who can buy or sell (Rev. 13:16-19).

I’m only half-serious, of course. The Anti-Christ referenced in Revelation was the Emperor Nero, and those with the number 666 were all the people—Christians among them—who reverenced him in order not to be murdered. Revelation isn’t a prophecy of a figure to come. It’s about the insane sociopath on the throne in Rome in the last years of the first century AD.

But, above all, it’s about our future with Christ. The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come!” We long for that day. Come, Lord Jesus.

What temptations in the modern world make it hard to hear the voice of Jesus? 

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Rev. 21: 1- 5a

Are you old enough to have memories of sitting by a crystal-clear lake? Do you remember swimming in a deep blue ocean, with a pristine beach? I even remember walking up Hollywood Boulevard, taking in the fragrant hibiscus, and walking in and out of sparkling clean shops. That’s how old I am.

These days, I long for that “new heaven and new earth” we are promised in today’s Revelation reading. I long to walk down a long, clean beach, and to jump into a warm, clear ocean. I long for a predictable climate of four seasons, each with its own small dramas, but nothing like the one-in-a-century storms we see every year now.

And I long to see the new Jerusalem, healed of its trauma, stretching arms of peace and reconciliation. I long to see Gaza, sparkling like a diamond, filled with strong, happy, safe children, with porous borders that welcome friends from both sides as they come and go.

I long to see Ukraine, whole again, rebuilt better than before. I long to see all the war refugees streaming home, and, somehow, even the dead raised back to life, with their loved ones having no memory of their  tears. And I long to see the grieving Russian mothers and widows hugging their healthy, happy sons.

Behold, this is God’s dwelling, where the earth is healed, and our hearts are healed, and war is thrown into the Lake of Fire, forever. God will wipe every tear from our eyes. That’s the promise.

O, Risen Christ, may it be so. May we live to see this promise come true.

And may we offer our lives in service of helping this scripture be fulfilled.

What does a new heaven and a new earth mean to you?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on John 10: 27-30

What does eternal life mean? Pope Francis left a beautiful testament, to be read after his death, saying, “I ask that my mortal remains rest awaiting the day of resurrection in the Papal Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.” I haven’t heard many people speak about the resurrection of the body, but our dear Franciscus clearly believed that his body would rise on the last day.

Jesus, in today’s gospel from John 10, assures us when he says, speaking metaphorically about sheep, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.” Can we possibly hope that we are counted in that number, that there is truly life after this life?

Let’s lean into Catholic teaching. At death, the immortal soul does not perish. Immediately after death, the soul undergoes a “particular judgment,” based on its life on earth. At the end of time, there will be a final resurrection where all souls will be reunited with their bodies, and the Last Judgment will take place. This is the moment that Pope Francis awaits.

Here’s a beautiful analogy, given to us by Rev. John McKenzie, SJ. When we are in the womb, we can’t know anything but the womb. This is where we get our food, oxygen, warmth, and safety. But if an embryo, already grown into a baby and birthed into a life outside the womb,  could talk to the pre-born embryo, think of the confidence she could give that embryo: “You’ll breathe! You’ll eat! You’ll dance! You’ll talk! I know you’re afraid of the unknown. But trust me, you want to be born.”

Trust me, says Jesus. I will give those who embrace me eternal life. You want to be born into that.

What fears do you harbor about being born into eternal life?

Kathy McGovern ©2025