Natalie Conseur

Sixth Sunday of Easter Readings: Acts, 1 Peter, John

Today’s readings remind us of the living presence of God in the world through the Holy Spirit, the call to faithful witness, and the transforming power of love rooted in Christ.

In the first reading, Philip goes to Samaria and boldly proclaims Christ. His preaching is accompanied by healing, liberation, and joy among the people. This passage reminds us that the Gospel is not merely a message to be heard but a reality that changes lives. When Peter and John later lay hands on the new believers, they receive the Holy Spirit, showing that God’s grace continues to strengthen and unite the Church. The Spirit is not given for private comfort alone, but to empower believers to live boldly and joyfully in faith.

This connects beautifully with Peter’s instruction to Christians facing hardship. He tells them to “always be ready to give an explanation” for the hope within them, but to do so with gentleness and reverence. Christian witness is not meant to be harsh or prideful. Instead, it is rooted in humility, courage, and a clear conscience. Peter points to Christ’s own suffering—the innocent one dying for the guilty—as the ultimate example of sacrificial love. Faithfulness to God may involve suffering, but it also leads to life and redemption.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus promises his disciples that they will not be abandoned. He says, “I will not leave you orphans,” assuring them that through the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, he will remain with them forever. Jesus also makes clear that love for him is shown through obedience to his commandments. This obedience is not legalistic duty, but a loving response to the One who first loved us. Through that love, believers enter into a deep relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Spirit.

Taken together, these readings challenge Christians to live Spirit-filled lives marked by hope, love, and witness. The Holy Spirit strengthens us, Christ’s example guides us, and God’s abiding presence comforts us. In a world often marked by fear, division, and suffering, believers are called to be signs of joy, peace, and steadfast hope—living testimony that Christ is alive and still transforming hearts today.

Fifth Sunday of Easter Readings: Acts, 1 Peter, John

Fourth Sunday of Easter Readings: Acts, 1 Peter, John

The truth is uncomfortable: we are both smart and foolish. We make good choices, yet we also sin, often knowingly. Sin, at its core, is irrational—it places us in harm’s way. Like sheep wandering from the flock, we expose ourselves to danger by listening to the wrong voices.

In a world full of noise—media, entertainment, and endless opinions—it becomes difficult to hear Christ. The question is simple but challenging: whose voice are we following? If we are honest, we may find we are shaped more by the world than by the Shepherd. The call, then, is to return, to listen more closely, and to follow more faithfully.

The Eucharist looks like bread and wine. But its reality is transformed—this is what the Church calls transubstantiation. What appears ordinary is, in truth, extraordinary: the living Christ.

The response of the disciples is immediate. They return to Jerusalem, back to the community, back to faith. Their encounter changes everything.

So what should we do? If we truly believe the Eucharist is Jesus, then we should seek him—every Sunday, and even more often. We should prepare our hearts through confession and spend time with him in adoration. The question is no longer whether communion is offered, but whether we are ready to receive. How deeply do we desire him?

Readings: Acts, 1 Peter, John

That is how we can believe in only one God who is yet three persons: the Father is not the Son or the Holy Spirit, the Son is the not the Father or the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit is neither the Father nor the Son. Yet, these three identities share one existence.

Why reflect on this?  Jesus suffered, died, and rose from the dead. He did it to save us from sin and death, and ultimately to offer us life with himself forever in heaven. Jesus wants you, as a person, to be with him forever. It is personal. Through Jesus, the Son, we share in the very life of the Trinity. It is personal. When Jesus appear to Thomas to answer his doubt, it was about personal relationship.

If you want to live forever, what do you hope heaven looks like?  A golf course?  Or better, a never ending relationship of love between persons: you with God in Jesus, and through Jesus with everyone else.

Readings for Sunday: Acts, Colossians, John

The shocking truth: Jesus, in his humanity, rose bodily from the tomb. We live in a culture where people often think that a human is a soul in a body, as if the soul were merely driving the body like we drive our cars. And then, at death, the soul is free from the body to live forever without the body. However, that is not true. Jesus’ bodily resurrection, and he now lives forever, shows us the truth.

We as humans do not simply have bodies, like we have cars — we are bodily. We are the unity of body and soul. If someone were to punch you, your response would not be, “why did you hit my body?” but “why did you hit me?” Your body is an integral part of what you are as human. In Catholic thought we are soul-bodies, the unique combination of the physical and spiritual. In that way we are both like and unlike the other animals; in that way we are both like and unlike the angels.  Animals are merely physical creatures.  Angels are pure spirits. Humans sit at the threshold or boundary of both realms.

Death, then, is not natural to our design but a rupture. It is the tearing apart of what was meant to be united: body and soul. This is why both lifeless bodies and disembodied spirits unsettle us—they point to something fundamentally broken. More deeply, death also reflects a rupture between humanity and God, brought about by sin, which is a failure to love.
The resurrection of Jesus transforms this reality. In Him, the division caused by sin is healed. His resurrection was not the mere reunification of body and soul, but also the transformation of the soul-body in glory. Jesus is glorified and now lives forever, making it possible for humanity to live in relationship with God forever. It was not a return to Eden, but the beginning of divine adoption of men and women as sons and daughters of God, heirs of the kingdom.

Readings for Sunday: Matthew, Isaiah, Philippians, Matthew

About 2,000 years ago, Jesus walked into Jerusalem in triumph on the first day of the Jewish week. They were waving palm branches, the historic and biblical sign of victory. By Friday, the crowd was yelling, “crucify him!” What happened in between? Even among the twelve apostles, Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, and all but John ran away. The Blessed Mother Mary and a few other women stood fast. But overall, Holy Week begins with the reading of the Passion story: Jesus was abandoned, denied, tortured, and publicly executed. The man did absolutely nothing wrong in life whatsoever; he was and is sinless.

We see in Jesus, God’s love for us in that God took on our humanity and then suffered and died at our hands to save us from sin and everlasting death.

When we celebrate Easter, Christ’s victory, the cross itself becomes transformed. In that way, the cross takes on multiple meanings: our sins, God’s mercy and love, the transformation of human suffering, and ultimate victory.

All four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, are different in their own ways. Yet all four center on, and devote the most space to, the Passion narrative. It is the center of our faith. If Jesus didn’t suffer, die, and rise, we simply would not exist as the Church; there would be no St. James Parish.

Readings for Sunday: Ezekiel, Romans, John

One of the biggest questions people ask is: why does God allow bad things to happen to good people? Many of us have known someone who lived a good and faithful life but still suffered greatly. Imagine a man who goes to Mass every Sunday, loves his wife and family, works honestly, and cares for others—yet suddenly develops a very aggressive cancer. Situations like this can seem confusing and painful. While entire books have been written on this question, the Christian faith offers a brief answer: God sometimes permits suffering or evil in order to bring about a greater good.
The Gospel story of Lazarus helps illustrate this mystery. Lazarus, along with his sisters Martha and Mary, were close friends of Jesus. When Lazarus became seriously ill, the sisters sent word to Jesus, believing that he would come quickly and heal him, since Jesus had already performed many miracles. Surprisingly, Jesus did not come right away. Instead, he stayed where he was for two more days and said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God.”

By the time Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been dead for four days. Martha, though upset, still showed faith when she said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. Yet even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Jesus responded with one of the most powerful statements in the Gospel: “I am the resurrection and the life.”
Jesus was deeply moved by the grief around him, even weeping at Lazarus’ tomb. Yet he also challenged the people’s faith. When he commanded, “Lazarus, come out,” the dead man returned to life. Through this miracle, many began to believe in Jesus.
This story reminds us that suffering is not meaningless. God may allow difficult moments so that something greater can emerge—often a deeper faith in Christ, who alone brings true resurrection and everlasting life.

Readings for Sunday: 1 Samuel, Ephesians, John 

People who are suffering (perhaps from illness, the loss of a job, or some other hardship) may say, “God is punishing me.” It is an understandable feeling, but it is not really how God works. Instead of explaining this in the usual three-point way, we can look to the Gospel story of the man born blind to understand it.

In Jesus’ time, many people believed that suffering was a direct punishment for sin. When Jesus and his disciples saw a man who had been blind from birth, they asked, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” They assumed that someone must have done something wrong. But Jesus rejected that idea, answering, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

This reveals an important truth: God permits evil, but He does not cause it. There are two main kinds of evil. First, there is moral evil—when people misuse their free will. A thief who steals, or any time we lie or gossip, is an example.

God could forcibly stop such actions, but doing so would destroy our freedom and turn us into robots. Instead, He allows us the freedom He gave us, even when we misuse it.

Second, there is physical evil—things like disease, disasters, and suffering. These are part of a world affected by original sin. God usually does not miraculously prevent them, but He permits them.

Why? Because God can draw a greater good from them. In the Gospel, the blind man is healed by Jesus, but the greater miracle is spiritual. Step by step, the man comes to recognize Jesus—not just as a man or a prophet, but as Lord. His suffering ultimately leads him into a relationship with Christ.

The greatest example of this is the cross. God allowed His sinless Son to suffer and die so that we might be saved. When suffering enters our lives, then, we should remember: God does not cause it, but He can use it to lead us closer to Him and, ultimately, to our salvation.

Readings for Sunday: Exodus, Romans, John

For what do you thirst? I am not speaking of ordinary, physical thirst, the kind that sends us reaching for a glass of water on a hot day. I mean the deeper thirst—the ache within us for something more. What do you crave? Love? Attention? Success? A better life? If we are honest, we notice something unsettling: we are never quite satisfied. We achieve one goal, and another appears. We fill one desire, and a new one rises. It seems our thirst cannot be quenched.

In the Gospel, Jesus meets a Samaritan woman at a well at noon, the hottest part of the day. She comes alone, likely to avoid the whispers of others because of her complicated past. Jews and Samaritans avoided each other, yet Jesus deliberately passes through Samaria and asks her for a drink. Shocked, she questions him. Then he speaks of “living water”—water that will become a spring welling up to eternal life.

She misunderstands, thinking of physical water. But Jesus is speaking of her deeper thirst—the longing for God. When he reveals her five husbands and the man she now lives with, he exposes the truth: she has been trying to satisfy an infinite thirst with finite relationships.

Marriage is good, love is good, but no human being can fill the space in the heart meant for God. We were created by God for God. Whether we recognize it or not, He is what we crave.

Like her, we try to quench our thirst with entertainment, success, pleasure, even sin. None of it satisfies. Only Christ can. Through prayer, Scripture, confession, generosity, and true discipleship, we draw deeply from his living water.

So the question remains: Are you thirsty? And what are you willing to do about it?