Seventh Sunday of Easter (Year A) | 17 May 2026
- CADEK-Europe-Laity

- May 14
- 7 min read

Introduction
In the liturgical calendar, we often find ourselves in "the space between." We move from the triumph of the Resurrection to the departure of the Ascension, and then we wait for the fire of Pentecost. This period is not a spiritual vacuum; it is a time of profound preparation.
The scriptures we have explored today: the return to the Upper Room in Acts, the promise of the Spirit’s rest in 1 Peter, and the intimate prayer of Jesus in John, all point to a single truth: being a follower of Christ means living in the tension of the "now" and the "not yet." We are a people who have been given a mission, promised a Comforter, and held in the prayer of the Saviour. Today, we look at how to live in that tension with joy, unity, and a sense of belonging that the world cannot shake.
Acts 1:12-14
Friends, today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles places us in a peculiar, often uncomfortable position: the waiting room.
The disciples have just witnessed the Ascension. Jesus is gone from their sight, but the promised Holy Spirit has not yet arrived. They are suspended between the "no longer" and the "not yet." How they handle this interval: the "Sabbath walk" back to Jerusalem reveals the blueprint for how we are called to live as a community of faith today.
The Journey of Obedience
The text begins with a simple act: they went back to Jerusalem.
It seems mundane, but it was an act of profound trust. Jerusalem was the place where Jesus had just been executed; it was the seat of the power that threatened them. Humanly speaking, the Mount of Olives was safer. Yet, they returned to the city because Jesus had commanded them to wait there.
Faith isn't always about the "mountain-top" experience of the Ascension; often, it’s about the quiet, obedient walk back down the hill into the places that scare us, simply because that is where the Lord told us to be.
The Upper Room: A Geometry of Unity
When they arrive, Luke provides a roll call. We see the names of the Apostles, but we also see a radical shift in the social fabric of the time.
The Twelve (now eleven): Men who had previously argued about who was the greatest.
The Women: Including Mary, the mother of Jesus.
The Brothers: Those who, earlier in the Gospels, had doubted Him.
In that Upper Room, the walls of status, gender, and past failures crumbled. They were "all these joined in continuous prayer." The Greek word used here is homothumadon, which means "with one mind" or "of one accord." They weren't just in the same building; they were in the same spirit.
A Story
There is a story of a monastery where the monks had grown bitter toward one another. A wise traveller told them, "One of you among us is the Messiah in disguise." Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Because they didn't know which one was the Christ, they began to treat everyone with profound reverence and prayerful attention. The Upper Room was the first place where the followers of Jesus stopped looking at each other's flaws and started looking for the Christ in their midst.
Acts 1:12-14 invites us to a different way:
Stay put where God has called you.
Gather with your community, laying aside old grievances.
Wait in prayerful expectation.
The Upper Room reminds us that the Church was not born out of a burst of human energy, but out of a group of people who were humble enough to wait together.
1 Peter 4:13-16
Friends, the words of St. Peter we hear today feel like a paradox: a holy contradiction. He speaks of suffering and gladness in the same breath. In a world that spends billions of dollars to avoid even the slightest discomfort, Peter’s message is jarring: “If you can have some share in the sufferings of Christ, be glad.”
This text invites us to look at our hardships not as evidence of God’s absence, but as the very place where His Spirit rests most heavily upon us.
The Fellowship of Suffering
Peter begins by reframing what it means to hurt. Usually, we see suffering as a "subtraction": a loss of health, a loss of reputation, a loss of peace. But Peter calls it a "share" or a "participation" (koinonia) in Christ.
When we suffer for doing the right thing, when we are excluded for our integrity or mocked for our faith, we are not drifting away from Jesus. We are walking directly into His company. We are standing where He stood.
Christian suffering is never solitary. It is a "fellowship." When you are at your lowest point for the sake of the Gospel, you are closer to the heart of Christ than you may ever be on a mountaintop.
The Weight of Glory
Peter makes a daring claim: if you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed. Why? Because “the Spirit of glory, the Spirit of God [is] resting on you.”
There is an old tradition that says when the martyrs of the early Church faced the lions, their faces often shone with an inexplicable light. This isn't just a legend; it’s a spiritual reality. Peter suggests that when the world tries to strip away our dignity through insults, God replaces it with a "Weight of Glory": a divine presence that provides a peace the world cannot give.
A Story
Think of a gold refiner. He places the gold into the hottest part of the fire. Why? Not to destroy it, but to burn away the dross, the impurities. He knows the gold is pure when he can investigate the molten metal and see his own reflection. In the "fire" of our trials, the Spirit rests upon us to burn away our pride until the image of Christ is all that remains.
Suffering with Honour vs. Suffering with Shame
Peter provides a very practical "reality check" in verse 15. He warns us: “None of you should ever deserve to suffer for being a murderer, a thief, a criminal or an informer.”
He is distinguishing between consequences and crosses.
If we suffer because we are rude, dishonest, or judgmental, that is not "suffering for Christ." That is reaping what we have sown.
But if we suffer because we choose love over hate, or truth over a convenient lie, we have nothing to be ashamed of.
To be called a "Christian" was originally a term of derision: a slur used by the people of Antioch. Peter tells his community: "Don't hide from that name. Wear it as a badge of honour. Thank God that you have been called one."
John 17:1-11
Friends, we have just listened to what is often called the "High Priestly Prayer." This is a sacred moment in the Gospel of John. Jesus is not preaching to a crowd or arguing with critics; he is speaking heart-to-heart with the Father. The "hour" has finally arrived, the hour of the Cross.
In these verses, Jesus pulls back the curtain on the very meaning of life, the nature of glory, and his deepest desires for you and me.
Reclaiming the Meaning of "Glory"
When we hear the word "glory," we think of bright lights, trophies, or a standing ovation. But for Jesus, the "hour" of his glory is the hour of his sacrifice.
He asks the Father to glorify him so that he may glorify the Father. This reveals a beautiful, circular relationship: the Son doesn’t seek fame for himself, but only to point the world back to the Father.
True glory is not found in how much attention we can grab for ourselves, but in how much of God’s love we can reflect to others. We are most "glorious" when we are most selfless.
What is Eternal Life?
Jesus gives us a startling definition of eternal life in verse 3. He doesn’t describe it as a place with golden streets or a never-ending timeline. He says: “Eternal life is this: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”
In the biblical sense, "to know" isn't about memorizing facts or passing a theology exam. It is about intimacy. It is the kind of knowing that exists between two best friends or a husband and wife. Eternal life isn't something that starts after you die; it starts the moment you begin a relationship with God.
A Story
There is a story of a famous actor and an old priest at a dinner party. The actor was asked to recite the 23rd Psalm. He did so with perfect diction and dramatic flair, and the room erupted in applause. Then, the old priest was asked to recite it. His voice was shaky and his delivery simple, but when he finished, there was a profound, tearful silence.
The actor stood up and said, "I know the Psalm, but this man knows the Shepherd." That is the difference between religion and eternal life.
"In the World, But Not of It"
As Jesus prepares to leave, his concern turns toward his disciples, and toward us. He says, "I am not in the world any longer, but they are in the world."
He recognizes the tension we live in every day. We live in a world that is often chaotic, divided, and forgetful of God. Yet, Jesus doesn't pray for us to be taken out of it. He prays for us to be protected within it. He calls us his "glory" in the world.
Think of that for a moment: Jesus says, "In them I am glorified." He trusts his reputation, his teaching, and his mission to our hands.
The Gift of Belonging
There is a beautiful repetition in this text: "The ones you gave me," "They were yours," "All I have is yours."
The core message here is belonging. You do not belong to your job, your bank account, or even your own mistakes. You belong to God, and you have been "entrusted" to Jesus. There is an immense security in knowing that the Son of God is currently interceding for you, holding you in that space between the Father and the world.
Conclusion
As we leave this place today, let us remember that we do not walk alone. We carry with us the "Sabbath walk" of the Apostles, finding strength in our community and our shared prayer. We carry the "Spirit of Glory" promised by Peter, which transforms our daily struggles into a participation in the life of Christ. And most importantly, we carry the assurance of Jesus’ own prayer, that we are known by the Father and entrusted to the Son.
Do not be afraid of the "Upper Rooms" in your life or the "fiery trials" that may come your way. These are simply the places where the Spirit prepares to rest upon you. Go out into the world, not as those who are lost, but as those who are "sent," knowing that eternal life is not a distant finish line, but a living relationship that begins right here, right now.
We’re so glad you joined us this Sunday. We hope the homily offered you some fresh perspective. See you again next week!