Catholic and Apostolic

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, May 5, 2024:
Sixth Sunday of Easter

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Psalm 98

R. The Lord has revealed his victory in the sight of the nations.

O sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvellous things. His right hand and his holy arm have brought him victory.

R. The Lord has revealed his victory in the sight of the nations.

The Lord has made known his victory; he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations. He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. 

R. The Lord has revealed his victory in the sight of the nations.

All the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God. Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises. 
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R. The Lord has revealed his victory in the sight of the nations.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Years ago I sat in a side chapel in Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris, for an 8 a.m. daily Mass. There were maybe 20 people there with me in the small enclave of the massive icon of gothic churches. My French is passable, but by no means am I bilingual. Yet I joined my voice to those present and we prayed. At one point I looked up at the stained glass, carved arches, candle (now electric) chandeliers and thought, “How many people have sat where I am sitting/praying for hundreds of years? People from Paris, from France, from all over the world. I had a profound sense of the depth and width of the Catholic Church in that small moment. With these strangers (yet “family”) I prayed the same prayers — thanking, beseeching, lamenting, exalting, glorifying the activity of the same God. 

This sense of largeness makes the troubles that we face in our churches locally seem small, if even for a brief moment. Regardless of all the issues, concerns, conflicts, hurt, joy, excitement, celebration — all the emotions that come with the human condition — the existence of the Church universal (called to witness to all the nations the saving power of our God!) was before me, is with me, and will be long after me. What will the faithful of the future Church see? My hope is that they will see beyond the humanness that makes things complicated, convoluted even, and see the beauty, truth, and goodness that I saw and felt in that moment on an ordinary day in Notre Dame. Often my work colleagues and I look at a decision that was made 10, 20 or more years ago and wonder, “Why in God’s name would they do that?” I realized the same question will be asked in the future of the choices and actions we make in our Church today. So, what do I want to leave as a legacy of how God was present in and through me in the world I was called to make a difference in?

When I think from that perspective, it’s overwhelming. The pressure! But then I remember that it’s not about what I do but what I allow God to do through me. God has so clearly made His power known to all the earth. My existence is an example of that. He gifted me with the ability to co-create with Him, to be a vessel through which His justice, kindness, faithfulness — His love — is present in this time. Will I always get it right? Heck no. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t try. I must do what I can to make sure the Church is witnessed well today so that tomorrow, next month, next year, or even hundreds of years from now, someone will sit in a church somewhere in the world and realize that they are both part of something so much bigger and, at the same time, playing an important role in God’s plan for salvation.  



​Aurea Sadi

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