If you spend enough time around college students, you end up learning things you never saw coming. I’m 52 years old and after nearly 27 years as a priest, I somehow now know that if you say two specific numbers in a row (which I’m not about to say up here, for the sake of everyone’s sanity) a whole roomful of kids will lose their minds – and no, even AI can’t explain to me why that’s a thing.
Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER -MAY 10, 2026 – Your support means a great deal to me, and I’m deeply grateful for the many who share these messages with their friends, families and social media followers. If you’ve found meaning in these words, I’d be grateful if you’d share them with others who might benefit.
And for those who prefer listening, you can find the audio version on SoundCloud HERE or subscribe to the podcast on iTunes HERE. Your comments, messages, and the way you’ve embraced these homilies continue to inspire me. Sincerely in Christ -Father Jim
I’ve picked up a lot of other things, too. I know more about podcasts than I ever thought I would, including one called “This Past Weekend.” It’s hosted by a guy named Theo Von—a stand-up comedian with a thick Southern accent and this gift for telling stories that are both hilarious and painfully honest. He started his podcast back in 2016, literally sitting in a closet on a suitcase, with blankets draped everywhere to muffle the sound. Now, he’s one of the most popular podcasters out there, with millions of people tuning in every week—not because he pretends to have life figured out, but because he talks honestly about just how messy life really is.
One episode that caught my attention was from a few weeks ago. He started talking about sin. Not in a polished way or as a theologian. But with brutal honesty. He shared how there are things in his life that he keeps going back to. Things that he hates. He hates the guilt. He hates the shame. He hates what it does to him. But then he admitted something most people are too afraid to say out loud: There’s still a part of me that doesn’t hate it enough to stop.
Seriously that might be the most accurate descriptions of sin. Because that’s the frustrating reality of the spiritual life. Most of us don’t wake up planning to betray God. We don’t want to be selfish. We don’t want to gossip. We don’t want to fall back into lust, anger, bitterness, addiction, pride, envy – or whatever struggle it is that comes to our hearts and minds.
And yet… we do. And not because we completely love the sin. But because part of us still clings to it. Part of us has found comfort or distraction there. For Theo Von – he said that realization made him think of one of the strangest moments in the Gospels. When Jess walks up to a man who has been paralyzed for years and asks him Do you want to be healed?
At first, it sounds ridiculous. Who wouldn’t? Of course he wants to be healed… But Jesus doesn’t asks pointless questions. And it’s not ridiculous because healing means change. Healing means surrender. Healing means letting go of the identity you’ve built around your wound. Healing means stepping into a new life that can feel frightening, unfamiliar, costly. And sometimes we can get so used to carrying our brokenness that we don’t know who we’d be without it.
That’s what is hanging over this short but very pivotal Gospel today. We hear Jesus say “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Which are simple and beautiful words. But they are also terrifying. Because if we’re honest, we know how often we fail.
But notice what Jesus does not say.
He doesn’t say “If you fail me once, I’m done with you.”
He doesn’t say “Figure it out yourself.”
He doesn’t say “Try harder.”
Instead He makes a promise: I will ask the Father and He will give you another Advocate to be with you always… I will not leave you orphans.” That “Advocate” is the Holy Spirit. And He changes everything. Because Christianity is not a self-improvement project. And it’s not God standing at a distance yelling “Be Better!” It’s God placing His own Spirit within you.
The Holy Spirit is not some vague force, floating around the universe. The Holy Spirit is the living presence of God who enters into the war that is raging inside every single human heart. The Holy Spirit is the One who teaches us to love wht is good and hate what is evil. The Holy Spirit is the One who keeps working on the very part of us that still clings to sin.
That’s what we heard in the first reading today from the Acts of the Apostles. St. Philip went into Samaria and starts preaching Christ. People are getting baptized. Miracles and Exorcisms are happening. Lives are changing. The scriptures recounted that there was “great joy in that city.” But it’s not enough. St. Peter and St John arrive because something is still incomplete. The people had been baptized – but they had not yet recevied the fullness of the Holy Spirit. And when the apostles come and lay hands on them, the Holy Spirit comes upon them in power (So this is one of the scriptures that demonstrates the Sacrament of Confirmation).
In other words: Christianity is not ust about believing ideas about Jesus or having information memorized. It’s about receiving the very life of God within you. Which is breathtaking when we allow ourselves to sit with that and reflect on it. Baptism has completely and irrevocably changed us. Confirmation pours out spiritual gifts that are meant to transform us to cooperate with the Lord in transforming the world. At Mass, we receive Jesus’ very body, blood, soul and divinity into our mortal bodies.
And yet, if we’re honest, there are still parts of us lying beside that pool – still paralyzed, still stuck, still making excuses. So maybe today Jesus is asking us – once again – do you actually want to be healed? Not do you want temporary relief? Not – do you want God to instantly remove every struggle? Most likely we wish Jesus was asking us those things… but he doesn’t. He asks – do you want freedom badly enough to let the Holy Spirit change you? Because that will always cost us something.
It means forgiving when you’d rather stay angry. It means choosing purity in a world addicted to lust. It means letting go of resentment you’ve carried for years. It means surrendering control. It means trusting God enough to believe His commandments are not restrictions – but directions toward life.
St. Peter in the second reading today said “Always be ready to give a reason for your hope.” I love that line. Notice he doesn’t say “Always be ready to win arguments” – no… He says “Give a reason for your hope.”
And hope is convincing when it comes from someone who has actually encountered the Holy Spirit. Someone who is changing. Someone who is becoming freer. Someone who still struggles – but no longer struggles alone.
And as we celebrate Mother’s Day this weekend, I think there’s something beautiful here too. A good mother understands this patient love better than almost anyone. So many mothers spend years loving imperfect children. Praying for them. Correcting them. Encouraging them. Watching them fall and helping them get back up again. Sometimes carrying heartbreak no one sees or knows about. For many of us, our mother’s were the first image we ever had of steadfast love – which is why we take time this weekend to thank God for them.
But I also know that Mother’s Day is not easy for everyone. For some it’s marked by grief because your Mom has passes away. For some it’s a painful relationship that still hurts. For some it’s the ache of wanting to be a mother and not being able to. For some it’s the memory of a child lost. And for others, today simply feels complicated.
The Church doesn’t ignore those painful realities. The Church holds all of this together, precisely because Jesus says in today’s Gospel I will not leave you orphans. Those words are for all of us. The Holy Spirit is one of many proofs that God has not abandoned His people. And the Church in all her beauty and yes all her brokenness, becomes a mother to us too. Constantly and continually calling us back to healing, back to grace, back to Christ.
Brothers and Sisters – the Advocate is already here. The Holy Spirit has already been poured into your heart. The question is not whether God wants to heal you. The Cross already answered that. The question is whether you are finally ready to stop clinging to the thing that keeps you paralyzed.
Jesus stands before each of us today – with all our contradictions, addictions, fears, compromises, shame, and half-heartedness – and He asks do you want to be healed? Not someday. Not theoretically. Now. And maybe the most onest prayer we can offer today is this – Lord, there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to let go. But I give even that part to You.” That’s where the Holy Spirit meets us – and that’s where true freedom begins.
