“Who is my neighbor?” the scholar of the law asks- not to seek truth, but to draw boundaries. Jesus doesn’t answer with theory or debate. He answers with a story. A man is beaten and left for dead. Religious leaders pass by, cautious and detached. But a Samaritan- an outsider- stops. He sees. He is moved. And he acts.

Compassion, in the Gospel, is not a feeling- it is a response. Jesus shows us that love for God and love for neighbor are inseparable. The Samaritan doesn’t ask, “What will happen to me if I stop?” He asks, in effect, “What will happen to this man if I don’t?”

Jesus sends out the seventy-two in today’s Gospel with nothing but trust. No money, no bags, no sandals- just a mission: to bring peace, to heal, and to proclaim that “the kingdom of God is at hand” (Luke 10:9). It’s a radical call to simplicity and surrender. And yet, their return is filled with joy: “Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your name!”

But Jesus redirects their focus: “Do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice because your names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:20). The deepest joy isn’t in success or spiritual power- it’s in knowing you belong to God. That your name is known. That your life has meaning because it is anchored in Him.

Two very different men. One a fisherman, impetuous and bold. The other a scholar, zealous and precise. Yet Peter and Paul, so unlike in personality, are united in one call, one mission, and one final witness: to give their lives for Christ and His Church.

Peter, in the Gospel, speaks the foundational words: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16). In response, Jesus gives him a new name- Rock- and entrusts him with the keys of the Kingdom. Peter will falter, deny, and repent. Yet Jesus does not revoke the mission. Grace does not require perfection, only surrender.

On this solemn feast of Corpus Christi, we celebrate a mystery that is both divine and intensely human: Jesus gives Himself- Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity- not as an idea to admire, but as food to consume. In the Eucharist, God does not merely visit us; He becomes part of us.

The Trinity is not a puzzle to solve, but a mystery to enter. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit- distinct yet one, eternal love poured out and shared. On this solemn feast, we are not invited to grasp everything intellectually, but to let ourselves be drawn into the beauty of divine relationship. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says to His disciples, “Everything that the Father has is mine… He will take from what is mine and declare it to you” (John 16:15).

Pentecost is not just a commemoration of something that happened 2,000 years ago- it is a celebration of what continues to happen when the Spirit of God moves in the hearts of believers. On that first Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended not with whispers, but with wind and fire (Acts 2:1–11). The disciples, once locked in fear, were filled with courage. Their speech changed. Their mission began.

As Jesus ascends into heaven, the disciples stand staring upward- bewildered, amazed, maybe even a bit lost. Then two men in white appear with a question that still pierces our hearts today: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?” (Acts 1:11). It’s not a rebuke- it’s a reminder. Jesus may have ascended, but the mission has just begun.

The Ascension is not the end of Jesus’ story; it is the continuation of His presence through the Church. Far from abandoning His disciples, Jesus entrusts them with a task: “You will be my witnesses… to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). And He assures them they won’t do it alone- “I am sending the promise of my Father upon you… you will be clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49).