The Fourth of July is a most appropriate time to recall a 'discussion' St. Paul had in his First Letter to the Corinthians. There, in a dialogue form, he hears someone(s) saying to him, "Everything is lawful to me". Paul's responds, "But I do not want anything to dominate me". He is thinking that one must distinguish why I choose what I do, that I know when what might issue from my will is not really a free choice. There are many situations, e.g., alcholism, wherein a person will say, "I am free to have one drink; it won't hurt me." We know that story, and many more - they make us careful that a so-called free act is not actually an act by something that dominates me so that in fact I am not free. Paul continues the dialogue: "Everything is lawful to me", only to counter, "Not everything is for my good". We are blessed with freedom, but with a freedom to choose what is truly good for us. Freedom is the tool of the intelligent being, born to choose the good, not be driven to it like animals. The Fourth of July makes us grateful again for freedom. May we reach freedom's goal, to choose what we learn to be for our good. It is hardly the glory of freedom, the glory of what we have so often fought to protect, when I 'choose' what actually dominates me and stunts freedom, when I choose freely what is not my real good. John Kilgallen, SJ

The feastday of St. Thomas the Apostle is over, but there remains a consideration that is valuable for undersanding the Gospel of John, in which Thomas's story occurs. The 'Thomas story' is the story that completes John's presentation of the Jesus event (John 21, while inspired Scripture, is a later addition to the Gospel; as such, it can be expected to have real 'punch' to complete the Gospel. The story, in brief, shows Thomas as unbelieving that the statement that Jesus is risen, alive. He says, "Unless I touch him, I will not believe." When Jesus appears and asks Thomas to touch him, the logical conclusion should be that Thomas, touching Jesus, now believes. But that is not the conclusion. John's conclusion is that Thomas says, "My Lord and my God". That is the proper, appropriate (and only reasonable) conclusion to meeting the risen Jesus. Thomas, as it turns out, is the (only) one of the Gospel who expresses the depth of who Jesus is. The entire Gospel has been at pains to have the reader confirm his profession of faith at Baptism; it has given many signs (and monologues of Jesus) to establish in the reader this deepest conviction, to know that Jesus is nothing less than the reader's Lord and God. The two verses that conclude the Gospel (30 and 31) tell the reader this fact: the entire work of John has been written 'so that you may believe Jesus is Messiah and Son of God, so that, believing this, you may have life'. Thomas is the one chosen to close the Gospel, to express a belief that will result in eternal life - which, after all, is the supreme benefit John ultimately offers to anyone searching for it. In a sense, the Thomas story is not just a story, but THE story which expresses John's reason for writing. John Kilgallen, SJ

The birth of John was miraculous: Luke tells us his parents were beyond the age of having children; Elizabeth, John's mother, was sterile. Still miraculously, John leaped in his mother's womb at the presence of Jesus, in the womb of Mary. That John is mentioned in the Gospels at all is miraculous: he never became a follower of Jesus, asking to the end, "Are you the one to come, or should we wait for another?" Why does Luke begin his story of Jesus with the conception and birth of John? Cartainly, later in life John defended with his total person the God he adored and served. But more to the point for Luke was his realization, then presentation in Gospel form, that the mighty salvation of human beings began with God's eruption into human affairs with the announcement that Elizabeth would have a child. With her conception of John the salvation of the world began. This salvation would be offere to the end of the world, Luke says: at the moment we are that 'end of the world'. Salvation comes from calling on the name of Jesus, but the beginning of God's decision to save began in the womb of Elizabeth. She was the first, but hardly the last of us, to rejoice at the kindness of God.

John Kilgallen, S.J.

It is in the Acts of the Apostles that we hear most about Barnabas. He is famous as a preaching companion with Paul in present-day Turkey, with all the attendant success, failure and persecution of Paul. Prior to that, he was grouped with Christians at Antioch who were known as having special gifts, that of prophecy and that of teaching. Luke goes out of his way to underline the particular influence the Holy Spirit had on Barnabas, whether in the church in Antioch or in his mission to preach Christ. It is likely that he was one of the teachers from whom Paul learned so much of his Christian thinking in Antioch. Given his experiences of the Gentiles won over to Christ through the preaching inspired by Holy Spirit, Barnabas played an important role in Jerusalem, when he supported the decision that the Gentile Christians need not, for salvation, be circumcized and made to keep the entire Law of Moses. Before he was a Christian,an adult convert, he was a Jewish Levite named Joseph; it was the Apostles who called him 'Barnabas'. As Levite, he, who was from the island of Cyprus, fulfilled his obligation to assist in a formal way at the daily worship in the Temple in Jerusalem. His work was liturgical in nature: Levites formed the choirs and performed the religious music at the morning and afternoon solemn services to honor God. Since any one Levite 'worked' only eight weeks a year at the Temple, Joseph must have had a year-round work to provide him with money to support himself and whatever family he had. At a time when the Jewish Christians of Jerusalem lived as fully as possible the ideal of having 'no one among them in need', Barnabas, né Joseph, sold a field he owned and allowed for the distribution of its income appositely, so that 'no one was in need'. Barnabas must have been a most affable, winning personality, for it was left to him to convince many Jewish Christians that the persecutor Paul had honestly become a believer in Christ, like themselves. For all the above, we know only snatches, albeit important snatches, of a life in search of God. In a book dedicated to tracing the witness to Jesus from Jerusalem to Rome, Luke easily fixed on Barnabas. His preaching, yes, and his gifts from the Spirit, but also a man who made sure, as far as he could, that 'no one was left in need'. Not bad to be remembered this way.

John Kilgallen, SJ

Jesus' words, "I came to call sinners...", are a compendium of Gospel themes. They acknowledge that we are sinners; they reveal the divine intent on finding what was lost and giving life to what was dead. But these words are cited by Gospel writers for still another purpose. The society in which Jesus lived had its own rules about the desired conversion of sinners. These were basically two. First,stay away from sinners; association with them corrupts. "One bad apple spoils the barrel." Second, if sinners are to convert, they have to become aware that indeed they are sinners; this is done by staying away from them, a sign that people see wrong in their actions. They must know another judgment than their own, and the way to convey this is not to associate with them. We can add that certain types of sin made Jews impure, i.e. unworthy to pray in the presence of God, and association with these people made impure those associating with them. As is clear from the Gospels, Jesus did not stay away from sinners, but participated in two very close associative acts: he entered their houses and he ate with them. His defense for doing these things, for getting close to sinners, was to convert them, have them repent. Jesus had no love for their sins, only for them. He proved himself untainted by association with them and certainly gave no hint to them that their judgment in the matter of conduct was better than his. All of this led to nothing short of death for Jesus. Everyone loved his miracles, but many did not like his flaunting of the triditional interpretations of Law. They saw in his actions and teaching only a flippancy toward God's will; to live, with spite for God's law, was a sure cause of divine punishment - better that this sinner be done away with than that Israel be punished (once again) for tepidity in defending God's law. So Jesus constantly had to defend himself, for he was not going to stop his search for the lost, stop his giving life to the dead. Behind the sweet saying, then, that 'I have come to call sinners...' (and to call them as I know best) is the harsh defense of the divine determination, even at the cost of death, have the prodigal children return. It is that determination that cost Jesus his life. He knew it would and judged that association with the likes of us was worth it. Such was, and is our worth to him. John Kilgallen, SJ

Advent done, Christmas time done. Lent and Easter and Pentecost, too. From those momentous events we come into a long period of Ordinary Time. The color is green. No more long-lived white, nor fretful purple, just green. It is Ordinary Time. But what a wonderful color is green, of many shades, as the song goes, but always green. It is the color so longed for when we look to muddy yards and fields, to dead dirt. Once it is here, once things turn to green, the heart, perhaps unmoved as the dead dirt, comes alive, one's life begins to blossom, and all the good things of green come to serve us once again. In a way, it is a season for which all the more noteable seasons have prepared us. Waiting and longing, miraculous birth, the pain of sin and another waiting and longing, this time with wailing and sorrow, a death in place of my death, a life given so that I may live, the Spirit enlivening a dullish heart - does not all of this seem pointed, in the end, to our flourishing, our youthful growths, our beauty, the beginning of our eternal life? It is the green time, called Ordinary Time, but, from a certain perspective, a most wonderful time, both for its new breath and its hopeful future - a time for green. Ordinary Time? In a way, of course, but also a wonderful time. Its spring!

John Kilgallen, SJ

Pentecost is a day of peculiar significance in the Acts of the Apostles. First, while the Old Testament knew from the prophet Joel that God would one day share His Spirit with the world of believers, the one who actually pours out the Spirit is Jesus - he who received the Spirit from his Father for this purpose. The wonder that is Jesus never ceases to amaze those who have dedicated their lives to him. Second, As one moves through the public life of Jesus, from Nazareth to Jerusalem, one becomes aware that only upon Jesus has the Spirit descended; the Spirit of God acts in Jesus alone. But with Pentecost all believers receive the Spirit; they become the Spirit's world to inspire, console, encourage, defend. One of the major gifts to believers is prophecy. This gift is essentially a power and an enlightenment given so that one may speak truthfully on behalf of God, whether about the past, the present or the future. With this gift one becomes an instrument by which God speaks to us, reveals to us. Revelation from God belonged to Jesus in the Gospel, now it belongs to God's sons and daughters. Finally, the Spirit was given in accord with God's plan, that all Christians, one way or another, bear witness to Jesus; some do it by preaching (e.g. Peter and Paul), some by martyrdom (Stephen), some be bearing up under persecution and false accusations (the Jerusalem Church) and most do it by living out to the full the Great Commandment, expressed as 'love of God and love of neighbor (no one in the community was, or should be left in need). The Spirit inspires and sustains, acts which our sorry world needs so much. Jesus' was the immense task of preaching and martyrdom; the Spirit's no less a challenge, to move secretly to move hearts and wills. As St. John says, no one knows where the Spirit comes from, nor when. But as St Paul assures us, no good thought and no good choice happens without the effort of the Spirit to inspire and support. Not visible as was Jesus in his public life, the Spirit is in our world, trying his best to shape our free choices to the benefit of our eternal happiness and perfection. John Kilgallen, SJ

Luke is the one, in his Acts of the Apostles, who describes the event we celebrate this Sunday, May 4. It is in contrast to the ascension he describes at the end of his Gospel. In the latter, there is great joy at Jesus' going to his Father; the ascension is the triumph, or part thereof, which followed upon his terrible death undergone for love of his Father. Suffering issues in joy, particularly when it is a question of two people who love each other so totally as did Jesus and his Father - no matter what the suffering, love must produce life, not death, and triumph so as to be with the Father forever. This ascension is, then, a fitting ending to the story of Jesus' public life - it is a time of celebration, joy, and thanksgiving for this life among his friends. Forty days later, however, at the final appearance of Jesus to his friends, the departure of Jesus leaves the disciples unsure and a bit timorous. The best they can do, it seems, is to look up to where they last saw Jesus, and stare at it. A revelation comes to reassure them that Jesus will return, in glory. Though as Jesus says in John's Gospel, I will not leave you orphans, they are in a very measurable way on their own. What they have are wonderful memories of Jesus, his words of promise and assurance, his promise of the gift of the Holy Spirit and of own mystical presence with them. They look to a future without following him physically. Their role now? To witness, as much as they can, to Jesus, to tell others, by word or example, that he alone is Lord, the Son of God. This feast of the Ascension poses, then, a threefold message from Luke: the joy of success and gratitude for all Jesus' life on earth means for us, some anxiety till we meet with him again, recognizing for now a certain degree of separation from him, and response to his call that, until he comes again, we bear all the witness we can that 'He is the one, the only one'.

John Kilgallen, S.J.

Mark does not explicitly give us the purpose of his Gospel. Certainly, one can deduce that he is interested in encouraging Christians to follow Christ, no matter what the cost, for the rewards are great. He also appears to want to show the injustice of the interpretation of Jesus that led to his death. Perhaps, in this small space we should call attention on the very first titles we will hear of Jesus; they appear in Mark's first verse: Messia (Christ) and Son of God. Mark's readers were all Christians: they believed Jesus to be Messia and Son of God. Mark evidently means to review the life of Jesus in such a way that the believers will believe even more strongly what they believed at their baptisms. By the time of Mark's writing, messia had become a part of Jesus' name: Jesus Christ. Though Peter seems to have grasped part of the identity of Jesus, "You are the Messia", he failed to grasp it all, for, different from the ordinary understanding of Messia and completely unexpected was the Messia's crucifion and resurrection. Similarly, Son of God was a title which expressed Jesus' divinity, but one still needed to learn for himself the perfect obedience that the Son gave to His Father: as he said in the Garden, "not my will, but thine be done". For Mark, though miracles and teaching an holiness are important characteristics of Jesus, one will not pierce who he really is till one sees him crucified, then risen. Then, one will have the best chance to truly understand the person to whom one has committed himself in Baptism, the one and only one who died for us. John Kilgallen, SJ

The Gospel selection for this fourth Sunday of Easter (John 10, 1-10)calls attention to at least these three points. First, Jesus identifies himself as the legitimate guide of Christians; it is he who will lead them to have the deepest desire of their hearts. As John's entire Gospel suggests, there will be others who claim this legitimacy, and other sections of the Gospel show that some have left Jesus for the words of others. Second, Sheep have only one way to enter pleasurable and peaceful pastures; there is only one door. Jesus identifies himself as this door, this way, through which we reach our eternal happiness - through his teaching and power and through his person and his love for us. Others try to be the way through which we can pass to eternal peace, but they have not the teaching, the power, and, most of all, interest in us - such an interest as can be called love, love to death. Third, this section of the Gospel twice speaks, in one way or another, of the 'sheep as listening for the voice'. Jesus means that in us is an ability to recognize truth from falsehood, good from bad. It is his voice we attentively wait to hear - and once heard, the true, good shepherd will lead us to the fullness of life. Sheep we are not, but we do listen for the voice of our divine savior, for through him and with him, we are convinced, will we reach all we ever wanted. John Kilgallen, SJ

From April 30 (Second Sunday of Easter)to, but excluding Pentecost Sunday, the Gospel readings of the Eucharist this year are all, but one (Luke c. 24), taken from John's Gospel. Given this attention to John in our Eastertide celebrations, it might be of service to consider the principle by which John chooses all stories and speeches for his Gospel and which underlies all their teachings. This principle is found at the very end of the original Gospel, in Ch. 20, vv. 30 and 31. Here in substance is what the author writes: I have chose these signs in order that you may continue to believe that Jesus is Messiah, the Son of God and, so believing, you may have enternal life. The subjects of the Eastertide stories are: 1. Jesus, risen, appears in the Upper Room, to give the Spirit to his disciples, to show them his wounds, to commission to forgiven sins, and finally to have Thomas confess: My Lord and My God. 2. I am the Gate for the sheep; i.e. through me Christians, those recognize my voice, will reach their longed-for happiness; indeed, I give my life for the good of my sheep. 3. Jesus, ascended, prepares our places in Heaven; to reach them one follows the way of Jesus, which is the true way, a way that leads to life. Christians should know that in seeing Jesus, they have seen the Father: I am in the Father and the Father is in me. 4. Jesus promises to make up for his absence by sending another Paraclete; i.e. Jesus was one Paraclete, now there will be another, the Holy Spirit. The word 'paraclete' has means many things to us. It means consoler, encourager, defender. Such was Jesus, and such will be the Spirit. Given the Sunday Gospel readings of Eastertide, we do ourselves a great service in we look upon them as did John: they are a variety of stories and sayings all aimed at assuring us that Jesus is Messiah, Son of God, so that we might have a live that never ends. This principle (John 20, 31) is a great help to our search for the value of the Gospel readings chosen for our hearing and Easter joy. John Kilgallen, SJ