My Dear Friends,
The Lord is Risen. He is Risen Indeed. Alleluia.
Yes, Easter continues and our Alleluias continue to resound.
Have you ever had a moment where something ended… and you just kind of stood there? Not sure what to do next…not ready to move… just… taking it all in. I remember walking through the Holocaust Museum in Washington some years ago. When it was over, I didn’t rush out. I just stood there… quiet… trying to absorb it. I remember the same thing after watching The Passion of the Christ for the first time. The movie ended… and I didn’t get up. I just sat there… stunned. That’s where the disciples are in today’s Gospel.
Jesus is taken from their sight… and they’re just standing there… looking up. Perhaps stunned. And then comes that line: ‘Why are you standing there looking up at the sky?’ Not as a criticism… but as a gentle nudge. Because this isn’t the end. It’s a beginning.
In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says: ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me… Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations…’ Go. And that word isn’t abstract. Jesus had already shown them what “go” looks like. It looks like this:
*Stopping for the person everyone else walks past
*Touching what others are afraid to touch
*Sitting at the table with people others have written off.
*Telling the truth, even when it costs you something.
*Forgiving when you’d rather hold onto the hurt.
*Feeding someone who’s hungry not just for food, but for dignity.
That’s what Jesus did. And now — he says to us — you go and do the same. The baton has been passed on. And that’s where this Gospel meets us. Because we all have those moments… moments where something ends… and we feel stuck… waiting… looking for clarity… perhaps a bit stunned… looking for direction.
If we pause to truly listen, we may just hear those same words, “Don’t just stand there looking up. Take what you’ve been given… and take the next step. Not a perfect step. Not a fully planned step. Just the next right one.” Because the truth is, Jesus didn’t disappear.
He is still present in the quiet courage to reach out, in the decision to show mercy, in the choice to begin again with someone, in the decision to forgive, embrace, and love anyway.
So maybe the question isn’t: ‘Where did he go?’ Maybe the question is: ‘Where is he sending me… today?’ Don’t just stand there looking up. Cease being stunned. Go!
Peace and Blessings,
Father Jerry