My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today is a beautiful and profound Sunday. We gather here on this Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 10, 202...
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today is a beautiful and profound Sunday. We gather here on this Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 10, 2026, bathing in the lingering light of the Resurrection. But today is also Mother’s Day, a day where our natural human affections and our deep spiritual realities intersect in the most wonderful way.
To truly appreciate the depth of today’s celebration, we must first look to the Word of God. Today, our liturgy offers us texts that, when examined side by side, reveal a vivid tapestry. In the Acts of the Apostles, we see Philip, and later Peter and John, going down to Samaria. They are bridging a deep historical divide, bringing healing, and imparting the Holy Spirit to people who were once considered outsiders. We see a purpose in action. In the First Letter of Peter, the tone shifts to a quiet, steadfast endurance. Peter asks us to always be ready to give an explanation for our hope, but to do so with gentleness and reverence, even in the face of suffering. The contrast here is striking: Acts shows us the loud, miraculous, public outpouring of the Spirit, while Peter speaks of a gentle, internal, and resilient hope amidst trials. Yet, the similarity that binds them together is the source of this strength—it is not of human origin.
This brings us to the Gospel of John, which reveals the ultimate purpose and connection of it all. Jesus tells His disciples, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always.” And then, He speaks those earth-shattering words: “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.”
When we combine all these readings, the gist and core message for us today is the unwavering, fiercely loyal, and protective love of God. The Divine is not distant. Through the Holy Spirit, God's love is an indwelling, empowering reality that heals us, gives us hope in suffering, and assures us that we are never, ever abandoned.
And is there any human love that reflects this divine reality more closely than the love of a mother? To frame our reflection today, let us build our thoughts on three words that start with the letter "P": Promise, Presence, and Purpose.
Let us begin with the Promise. In the Gospel, Jesus looks at His disciples—who are anxious, confused, and fearful of the future without Him—and He gives them a promise: "I will not leave you orphans." It is a vow of eternal belonging. This is the very same promise that beats in the heart of a mother.
I remember a story of a young boy who used to have terrible night terrors. He would wake up in the pitch black of his room, completely paralyzed by fear, feeling utterly alone. And without fail, before he could even call out loudly, he would hear soft, hurried footsteps in the hallway. His mother’s door would open, and she would wrap her arms around him in the dark. She wouldn't just say, "It's okay." She would whisper, "I am here. I will not leave you." That is the maternal promise. It is the human echo of Christ’s divine promise. A mother’s love is our first theological lesson in God’s faithfulness. Today, we thank God for the mothers who kept that promise, who stood by our bedsides, who stayed awake waiting for us to come home, and who never let us feel orphaned in this world.
Our second word is Presence. The readings today are saturated with the reality of the Holy Spirit. In Acts, the Spirit falls upon the Samaritans, bringing a presence that transforms the entire city with "great joy." Jesus calls this presence the "Advocate" and the "Spirit of truth." An advocate is someone who stands beside you, someone who argues on your behalf, someone who comforts you when you are weak.
A mother’s presence is exactly that. Mothers are our first and fiercest advocates. Think about how a mother can silence a chaotic room just by walking in, or how the mere sound of her voice on the phone can instantly calm an anxious heart. Her presence is a sanctuary. And the beautiful thing about a mother's presence is that it transcends physical boundaries. For those of us whose mothers are miles away today, or for those whose mothers have passed on and are now resting in the Lord, her presence remains. It lives on in the values she planted in your soul, in the way you fold your hands to pray, and in the quiet strength you find when you face adversity. Just as the Spirit of truth remains with us and is in us, a mother’s love becomes a permanent, guiding presence within our hearts.
Our third and final word is Purpose. In our second reading, Saint Peter tells us: "Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence." And in the Gospel, Jesus gives a clear directive: "If you love me, you will keep my commandments."
A mother's love is deeply purposeful. Mothers do not just comfort us; they form us. They have the incredibly difficult task of raising human beings who carry hope and goodness into a fractured world. They teach us the commandments of life—not just the rules, but the ultimate law of love. They correct us, sometimes firmly, but always with that underlying gentleness and reverence for the person we are becoming. They suffer, much like Christ suffered, sacrificing their own sleep, their own ambitions, and their own bodies, so that we might have life. Their purpose is to launch us into the world equipped to be people of the Word, people of hope.
As a community gathered here at the Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish, we do not have to look far to find the most perfect embodiment of this maternal love. We have the Blessed Virgin Mary. I encourage all of you to look closely at her Immaculate Heart—a heart that perfectly held the Promise, carried the Presence of God, and lived out His Purpose with complete obedience. Her heart was pierced with profound sorrow, yet it remained a wellspring of gentle, reverent hope. Let us look to Mary and strive to be like her. Mothers, let her Immaculate Heart be the mold for your own, so that in your families and in our parish community, you may reflect her unwavering faith and pure, protecting love.
My brothers and sisters, as we look at the altar today, we see the ultimate expression of love in the Eucharist—Christ giving Himself completely for us. This is the love that empowers every mother, and it is the love we are called to share.
Today, we honor all mothers: those who are here with us, wrangling little ones in the pews; those who are elderly and resting at home; those who are mothers in spirit, mentoring and guiding others; and those who carry the heavy cross of having lost a child, or the silent ache of longing for one. The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, surrounds all of you today.
Let us walk away from this celebration holding tightly to the Promise that we are never abandoned, finding deep comfort in the Presence of God and the maternal figures in our lives, and living out the Purpose of love they have instilled in us. Happy Mother’s Day, and a blessed Sunday to you all. Amen.
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