Last week, we reflected on who the laity are. Through Baptism, lay men and women are incorporated into Christ and share in His priestly, prophetic, and kingly mission. They are not simply Catholics who are “not priests,” nor merely assistants to the clergy. They have their own indispensable part in the Church’s mission. This week, we ask where that mission is ordinarily lived.

Last week, we began reflecting on “the other 99.4 percent of the week.” There are 168 hours in a week, and Sunday Mass represents about 0.6 percent. The Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life, but it must shape the other 167 hours. Each week, we bring our lives to the altar and carry Christ from the altar into the world. This is at the heart of the lay vocation.

There are 168 hours in a week. If we spend about one hour at Sunday Mass, that represents roughly 0.6 percent of our time. The Church expects us to participate in Mass each Sunday, and for good reason. The Second Vatican Council teaches that the Eucharist is the “source and summit of the Christian life.” But what are we called to do during the other 167 hours—the other 99.4 percent?

In this Sunday’s first reading, God says to Solomon, “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.” Solomon could have asked for wealth, long life, power, or victory over his enemies. Instead, he asks for “an understanding heart” so that he might govern well the people God has entrusted to him. Solomon understands that leadership is not primarily about privilege. It is about responsibility. He knows that the people are not his possession; they belong to God. His task is to serve them faithfully, discern what is right, and seek their good.

Over the past several weeks, we have been reflecting on an overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” We began by noting that the devil of reality is not always the devil of the movies. He is usually far more subtle. His power is limited because he is a creature, not God’s equal. In the end, much of the power he has over us is the power we surrender to him.

Over the past few weeks, we have reflected on the devil’s ordinary tactics, the four D’s: deception, division, diversion, and discouragement. Deception makes the path toward evil appear attractive, reasonable, harmless, or necessary. Division separates us from God, divides us within ourselves, and turns us against one another. Diversion distracts us from what God is actually asking of us. This week, we turn to the fourth and final tactic: discouragement.

Over the past few weeks, we have been reflecting on an overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” We began by noting that the devil of reality is not always the devil of the movies. He is usually far more subtle. His power is limited because he is a creature, not God’s equal. In the end, much of the power he has over us is the power we surrender to him.

Over the past two weeks, we have reflected on an often-overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” We began by noting that the devil of reality is not always the devil of the movies. He is usually far more subtle. Rather than coming at us through strange manifestations or obvious evil, he more often works through resentment, fear, discouragement, mistrust, and confusion. His power is limited because he is a creature, not God’s equal. In the end, much of the power he has over us is the power we surrender to him.

Last week, we reflected on an overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” Popular culture portrays the demonic dramatically—through frightening possessions, strange manifestations, or a sinister figure dressed in red. In reality, the devil is far more subtle and is often most effective when his work goes unrecognized. We should neither ignore him nor become fascinated by him. Although the devil is real, we do not need to fear him. He is a creature, not God’s equal, and his power is limited. For the most part, the only power he has over us is the power we surrender to him. Belief in the devil does not remove responsibility. He may tempt, manipulate, and exploit our weaknesses, but we remain accountable for our choices.

Since Easter, our Sundays have carried us through a series of great celebrations: Pentecost, the Most Holy Trinity, and last week’s Solemnity of Corpus Christi. This weekend, we return to Ordinary Time. The word “ordinary” does not mean unimportant. It is the season in which the Church reflects on what it means to be disciples of Jesus. In the Gospel this Sunday, Jesus summons the Twelve and gives them “authority over unclean spirits.” He then sends the 12 Apostles out on mission to proclaim that the Kingdom of heaven is at hand, to heal the sick, and to “drive out demons.”

The other weekend I attended the wedding of my nephew in Huntsville, Alabama. My brother’s family is not Catholic. They belong to a non-denominational evangelical church. When I visit them, I usually go to church with them on Sunday morning, and then later I go to Catholic Mass. There is much that my brother’s church does very well. The preaching is excellent. The music is fantastic. The people are friendly. The community is mission-focused and growing. The congregation is full of young families with children. People are engaged, enthusiastic, and serious about their faith. And yet, every time I go, I leave with the same feeling: something is missing.

Over the past few weeks, our bulletin reflections have focused on the “why” and the “how” of the Church. We have reflected on the missionary command of Jesus: “Go, therefore, and make disciples.” We have remembered that the Church does not exist for herself. She exists for mission. We have also reflected on the practical “how” of evangelization: how we serve, how we organize ourselves, how we use our gifts, and how we work together as one parish so that the Gospel may be proclaimed more clearly and fruitfully.

Over the past few weeks, our bulletin reflections have focused on a simple but important question: why do we do what we do? We have reflected on the fact that the Church does not exist for herself. The Church exists to evangelize. That is our why. When we remember that, the many things we do as a parish begin to make more sense: our liturgies, our school, faith formation, outreach, councils, staff, volunteers, finances, and even the difficult work of organization and planning. All of these are meant to serve the mission Christ has entrusted to the Church. This week, on the Solemnity of Pentecost, I would like to take that reflection one step further. If our why is evangelization, then how should our parish be organized for mission?

Over the last few weeks, we have been reflecting on the importance of knowing our “why.” Before a parish can wisely decide what to do, or how to do it, we need to remember why we exist in the first place. The Church does not exist simply to maintain buildings, organize schedules, run programs, or preserve what is familiar. These things matter, but they are not the deepest reason for our life together. The Church exists to evangelize. We exist to proclaim Jesus Christ, to lead people to Him, and to help one another live as His disciples.

Last week, we reflected on the importance of knowing our “why.” Before a parish can wisely decide what to do or how to do it, we need to remember why we exist in the first place. The Church does not exist simply to maintain buildings, organize schedules, run programs, or preserve what is familiar. These things matter, but they are not the deepest reason for our life together. The Church exists to evangelize. We exist to proclaim Jesus Christ, to lead people to Him, and to help one another live as His disciples.

Pope Paul VI once wrote that evangelizing is the Church’s “deepest identity” and that “she exists in order to evangelize.” In other words, the Church does not exist for herself, but for the mission Christ has entrusted to her. We see this demonstrated in this Sunday’s readings.

This Sunday’s readings are full of movement, clarity, and decision. In the first reading from Acts, Peter stands before the crowd and proclaims Jesus Christ with boldness. The people are cut to the heart and ask, “What are we to do?” Peter gives a clear answer: repent and be baptized. In Psalm 23, the Lord is the Shepherd who guides, feeds, protects, and leads his people on right paths. In the second reading, Saint Peter reminds us that Christ shepherds us not by domination or threat, but by patient, sacrificial love. And in the Gospel, Jesus tells us that he is both the Shepherd and the Gate. His sheep know his voice. They do not follow every voice, and they do not enter through every opening. What stands out in all of this is the way the readings urge us toward greater clarity: a clearer voice, a truer path, and a more decisive way forward.

Happy Easter! Yes, we are still celebrating Easter! One of the challenges of writing bulletin columns around the holidays is that they often need to be written well in advance so they can be printed and delivered on time. As I write this, it is the Monday after Easter. Looking back on our celebration of the Easter Triduum and Easter Sunday, I find myself filled with gratitude.

Happy Easter to all of you! This weekend I will be away leading a parish retreat in North Carolina on the theme of God’s mercy. That is especially fitting, because this weekend is Divine Mercy Sunday. In those retreat talks I will be drawing from St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Bernard of Clairvaux. Aquinas teaches us that God’s mercy is not simply God feeling sorry for us. It is God acting to heal what we cannot heal ourselves. If Aquinas gives us a theology and ethics of mercy, Bernard gives us a spiritual psychology of mercy. He helps us see why so often we fail at mercy and how God can reform our hearts.

Happy Easter! Christ is Risen! Alleluia! Alleluia! Happy Easter! To all our parishioners, and to all our guests, family members, friends, and visitors joining us this weekend: welcome! We are glad you are here. Easter is the heart of the Christian faith, the day when the Church proclaims with joy that death, sin, and the grave does not have the final word. Jesus Christ is alive. Alleluia!