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Institute for Homiletics

A Collaboration of The Catholic Foundation and the University of Dallas

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Does God Love Me?

I sat at her kitchen table with a cup of tea. She had been at a retreat that I had given a week earlier, and she wanted to talk about it. “You know, I really don’t believe you,” she said. That sharpened my attention. “Would you tell me about that?” I asked. “Well,” she  said, “You told us that the core of our faith is that we are loved with  a mighty love by a wonderfully good God.” I nodded. She shook her head. “I can’t believe that.” She went on, “I believe that you believe that. And I believe that God loves you.” She looked down at the table.  “I just don’t believe that God loves me.” 

That was twenty years ago. Since then, as a hospital chaplain and a teacher, a spiritual director and a preaching coach, I have heard it many times, though perhaps not said so explicitly. Others have that same block of being unlovable. I cannot just intone, “God loves you.”  It does not it sink in. 

I recently participated in a seminar on childhood trauma. It began to fit. Trauma survivors are not helped by solutions. “God loves you”  sloughs off like oil in a non-stick pan. Trauma survivors are helped by developing resilience to deal with those early experiences that do not go away. 

Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “We will make our dwelling with you.”  Resilience comes through that “with.” Love comes in relationship,  that there is Someone who walks with us no matter what life has thrown at us. That presence is what brings peace. The Spirit is our  Advocate, God by our side here and now. 

And yet . . . even as I write them, these words also just feel like words, solutions. The experience of divine presence—that is what will heal our hearts. Holy Spirit, come, make it so!

Consider/Discuss 

  • It is estimated that 50 to 70 percent of the people who sit in the pews of  Christian churches have been impacted by some kind of childhood trauma.  One of those people may be you. One of them may be your brother or spouse or child. How has the presence of God, Father, Jesus, Christ, Holy  Spirit—whatever name for the divine works best for you—helped you to cope with life’s experiences? What words could you use to share that sense of presence with someone whom you know that needs healing? What words don’t work? 
  • Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” These words come just before he is to suffer the deep and difficult trauma of the cross.  Pain is real. Yet we are in the Easter season of resurrection; we believe that the Lord has transformed this valley of tears. Healing is also real. Death and destruction are not the final answer. How does Easter resurrection give you peace and/or hope? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Lord God, you who love us so deeply, we come to you for presence.  We turn to you in silence. We wait for you. You know the broken  places within us. You know where we block you out. You know  where we have been hurt. Sometimes we cannot believe the words  that we hear about you. Sometimes they feel too good to be true.  Come and be with us. Walk with us. We are afraid. We are troubled.  But we bring you that fear. We bring you our troubles. We cannot  walk through this valley of tears alone. Be with us. Help us. Let us  not be afraid to come into your presence, to enter into your glory. Be  present with us now in quiet and in splendor and in peace.

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Scripture Study for

Today’s reading recounts what is often called the Council of  Jerusalem, the earliest instance of the church debating and clarifying matters of doctrine and practice. The issue at hand is the status of certain aspects of the Mosaic law: are they required of disciples of Christ? At this point, Christianity is not a distinct religion, but understood by followers of Christ to be a living out of the covenant relationship with God. Some understandably take this to mean that followers of Christ have to become Jews. Paul and others disagree  (as we know from Paul’s letters). The leaders in Jerusalem determine that those who are not already Jews need not become Jews, and thus take on all covenant responsibilities, but they must avoid ethical transgressions of the Law, which would be considered binding on anyone following Jesus. 

An angel takes John to a high mountain so that he will be able to behold in a single vision the sight of the new Jerusalem, a representation of the totality of God’s holy people. It is envisioned here as an idealized earthly Jerusalem, God’s holy city. The city, or people, of God encompasses both Israel and the entire world, as represented by the twelve gates, all facing in one of the four cardinal directions. The foundation of this holy people created by God is the proclamation of the gospel by the apostles. Unlike the earthly  Jerusalem, this new city has no need of a temple, a sacred precinct set apart for God to dwell in nearly inaccessible holiness. The new  people itself has been made holy by God, who now dwells with the  Lamb in the midst of the people.

In his final words to his disciples, Jesus returns to the topic of love.  Love, here as in the rest of the Bible, is not so much an emotional attachment (although it can be that) as it is a firm commitment to the good of another, or—in the case of love for God—a commitment to living in God’s will. Especially in his imminent death, Jesus demonstrates his love for his own in the world, for which he is willing to die, even though many have rejected him (John 1:11; 3:16). Those who are able to love others make it possible for both the Son and the Father to dwell within them, giving them fullness of life. Jesus does not leave his disciples with commandments alone, but also with the promise of the Spirit and the inestimable gift of peace, which surpasses any “peace” the world has to offer. 

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