Today’s Readings: Acts 2:1–11; Psalm 104:1, 24, 29–30, 31, 34; 1 Corinthians 12:3b–7, 12–13; John 20:19–23. For the past seven weeks, we have heard what the Apostles did after Jesus poured his Spirit out upon them. We have heard com-pelling speeches and listened to stories of healing and exor-cism. We have witnessed the conversion of Jews, Samaritans, and Gentiles. We have seen Paul, a fierce opponent of Jesus’ followers, become an eloquent and passionate preacher of the Gospel. We have also heard stories of ridicule, expul-sion, imprisonment, and martyrdom, yet in those moments, the Apostles rejoiced that they could glorify God by dying and rising with Jesus.

As our Easter season comes to an end and we conclude our reading of the Acts of the Apostles, we might think such

marvelous stories belong to the past. We might think we could never be such loving, courageous witnesses, we could never speak and act like those Apostles did. We would be wrong to think this. St. Paul tells us, “To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit.”

Pentecost marked the beginning of the apostolic era, the era of the Church. We are still in that era. People still need to hear the story of salvation, still need healing, still need evil expelled from their midst. God pours his Spirit out upon us to transform and empower us, and then he sends us forth. We each have something to contribute to the story of salvation, for we are the apostles of this age.

Sunday, May 31, 2020Today’s Apostles

Come upon UsLord of life,The world awaits your liberating Spirit.Come, mighty wind, breathe new life

into us.Come, Spirit of Truth,reveal the evil that lingers in our midst.Come, Wisdom of God, teach us the way of righteousness.Come, Fire of Love,impassion us to act justly in all we do.Come, Helper and Guide,draw us together in fellowship

and peace.Come, O Sanctifier, and make us holy.Keep us forever unitedwith our loving and creating God,through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Pentecost Sunday

“Veni Sancte Spiritus!” Come, Holy Spirit! This is the title of the prelude piece called the “sequence” which the choir will sing before Mass today and is a reminder of the robust nature of the feast we celebrate. This ancient acclamation underscores for us that the primary actor on Pentecost is not anyone of the fishermen apostles, bravely running through the crowded streets of Jerusalem like first century town criers spreading the Good News. Rather, the sequence declares that it’s the elusive Spirit that sheds divine light on our gloomy (and pandemic) reality, comforting and refreshing us, healing our wounds, renewing our strength, and washing our guilt away. And that’s just for starters. Add to that guidance for all our straying steps, plus the bestowal of those seven gifts we once memorized to recite to the bishop on our Confirmation day long ago. Remember them? Wisdom. Understanding. Knowledge. Counsel. Fortitude. Reverence. Wonder and Awe in God’s presence. Lifted whole and unattributed from the prophet Isaiah, this shower of gifts is available to all who acknowledge the Spirit’s presence. Do we believe it? How often do we use this sevenfold blessing – or even just one part of it? Human nature seems to allow us to tuck away gifts we receive without much reflection and the same is true of this once-a-year sequence. We acclaim the Spirit as, “You, the soul’s most welcome guest.” But how do we host the Holy Presence? Of ourselves, we say, “(we are) the faithful, who adore and confess you.” Yeah, sure we do! We’re better at adoring the newest sports or entertainment celebrity, or the hottest Netflix series or a new puppy. How do we transfer that sort of unchallenged loyalty to a Divine Person? Maybe we need fresh language to describe these ancient understandings, but that doesn’t mean the concept is obsolete. If anything, in the 21st century we need to be penetrated by God, and our “business as usual” lives could use a bit of refashioning. What about hosting “the soul’s most welcome guest” after all? Adoration might sound archaic, but pledging allegiance to the sovereignty of God is not. Jesus’ breath on the Church can change everything. It’s meant to!

VENI SANCTE SPIRITUS Come Holy Spirit, come! And from your celestial home

Shed a ray of light divine. Come, Father of the poor! Come source of all our store!

Come within our bosoms shine! You of comforters the best; You the soul’s most welcome guest.

Sweet refreshment here below! O most blessed light divine, shine within these hearts of yours,

And our inmost being fill! Heal our wounds, our strength renew; On our dryness pour your dew;

Wash the stains of guilt away. Bend the stubborn heart and will; melt the frozen, warm the chill;

Guide the steps that go astray. On the faithful who adore, and confess you evermore

In your sevenfold gift descend; Give them virtue’s sure reward; give them your salvation, Lord;

Give them joys that never end. Amen. Alleluia!

THE HUMAN TOLL by Dave Barry

One hundred thousand. Toward the end of May in 2020, the number of people in the United

States who have died from the coronavirus neared 100,000 – almost all of them in a three- month span. An average of more than 1,100 deaths a day.

One hundred thousand. A number is an imperfect measure when applied to the human condition.

A number provides an answer to how many, but it can never convey the individual arcs of life, the 100,000 ways of greeting the morning and saying good night.

One hundred thousand. The immensity of such a sudden toll taxes our ability to comprehend, to

understand that each number adding up to 100,000 represents someone among us just yesterday. Who was the 1,233rd person to die? The 27,587th? The 98,431st?

She may have died in a jam-packed hospital, with no family member at her bedside to whisper a final thank you, Mom. I love you.

He may have died in a locked-down nursing home, his wife peering helplessly through a streaked window as a part of her slips away.

They may have died in subdivided city apartments, too sick or too scared to go to a hospital, their closest relatives a half-world away.

This highly contagious virus has forced us to suppress our nature as social creatures, for fear that we might infect or be infected. Among the many indignities, it has denied us the grace of being present for a loved one’s last

moments. Age-old customs that lend meaning to existence have been upended, including the sacred rituals of how we mourn.

Before, we came together in halls and bars and places of worship to remember and honor the dead. We recited prayers or raised glasses or retold familiar stories so funny they left us nodding and crying through our laughter.

In these vital moments of communion, it could feel as though the departed were with us one last time, briefly resurrected by the sheer power of our collective love, to share that closing prayer, that parting glass, that final hug.

Even the horrible times of wars and hurricanes and terrorist attacks that seemed to crumble the ground beneath our feet, we at least had time-tested ways of grieving that helped us take that first hesitant step forward. Not now. Now, for most of those who died in the past few months, there were no large gatherings of consolation and recited prayers for peaceful rest. The obituaries that filled our local newspapers and Facebook pages sometimes read like an unending roll call of the coronavirus dead. Every death notice, virus-related or not, seemed to close with: Due to health concerns and restrictions on gatherings, there will be no funeral services at this time. A celebration of life will be held at a time to be announced. A virtual memorial service was held instead, perhaps with mourners praying into laptop screens. Followed by a burial, perhaps, with masked mourners watching from their cars as another coffin was received by the earth. In a larger sense, the suspension of our familiar rituals of burial or cremation reflected what life in a pandemic has been like. The absence of any clear end. Even the dead have to wait. Why has this happened in the United States of 2020? Why has the virus claimed a disproportionately large number of black and Latino victims? Why were nursing homes so devastated? These questions of why and how and whom will be asked for decades to come. For now, all we can do is hold our collective breath, inch toward some approximation of how things were – and try to process a loss of life greater than what the country incurred in several decades of war, from Vietnam to Iraq. One hundred thousand. A threshold number. It’s the number celebrated when the family car’s odometer ticks once more to reach six digits. It is the number of residents that can make a place feel fully like a city: San Angelo, Texas; Kenosha, Wisconsin; Vacaville, California.

So, imagine a city of 100,000 residents that was here for New Year’s Day but has now been wiped from the American map. One hundred thousand. Den mother for Cub Scout Pack 9. Manager of the produce department. Tavern owner. Nurse to the end. Loved baseball. Loved playing euchre. Loved seeing the full moon rise above the ocean. Man, could she cook! Always first on the dance floor. Always ready to party. Always gave back. Preferred bolo ties and suspenders. Awarded the Bronze Star. Served in the Women’s Army Corps. Survived the sinking of the Andrea Doria. Competed in the Special Olympics. Immigrated to achieve the American dream. Could quote Tennyson from memory. A number is an imperfect measure when applied to the human condition. One. Hundred. Thousand. RE-OPENING ANNOUNCEMENTS NO MASK – NO ENTRY. First Mass in church will be held Saturday, June 6 at 6:00 pm. Two Masses on Sunday, June 7 at 9:00 and 11:30 am. Daily Masses resume on Monday, June 8 at 8:30 am. The size of the assembly will be limited to about 150 persons. Do not expect to sit in “your pew”. Ushers will escort people to available seating, beginning in the front. Names will be taken at each Mass for contact tracing purposes. Pews, flat surfaces, door knobs and railings will be cleaned after Masses. IF YOU FEEL THE LEAST BIT ANXIOUS ABOUT ATTENDING MASS, PLEASE STAY AT HOME, EXPECIALLY IF YOU ARE IN A VULNERABLE POPULATION OR FEEL SICK. Hymnals cannot be used. A single-use song sheet will be available and is to be crumpled and discarded after Mass in available wastebaskets. What about this week? (June 1 – 5) Communion service on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8:30 am.

Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament on Tuesday and Thursday from 10:00 am until noon. What can I do to help?

Pray for those who are isolated and afraid – inquire if they need anything.

Hand sanitizers of any size can be dropped off in the Gathering Space or at the rectory office. Lysol or similar types of wipes are needed.

If you’re on the Ministry Schedule, Lisa or Lauren will be calling to see if

you’re able/willing to fulfill your assignment. As Ushers will be needed to seat people and release them from pews for Communion/Dismissal, we will be asking the extra Eucharistic Ministers (who won’t be distributing the Blood of Christ) to assist the ushers.

To diminish physical contact at end of Mass, we’re encouraging more

people to use the handicapped entrance as an exit, as well as the exit behind the organ/choir area. THAT DOOR CAN ALWAYS BE USED AS AN EXIT.

Some dioceses are limiting the use of restrooms during these times for

fear that those who use them won’t clean them properly after use. We have far more trust in Good Shepherd parishioners than that! Each restroom will have all the wipes and sanitary goods necessary. Please alert Ushers if they need to be refreshed. Don’t forget the restroom in the old sacristy.

Remember that this will be the first time any of us have had to do these

unfamiliar things. We’re all amateurs at this point, especially the Ushers who have added duties. So we all might need to let some things roll off our backs for these first few weeks until we all get our sea legs (as Monsignor Malene might say). Stay safe and trust, cause we’re not alone. Fr. Glenn

© 2020 Liturgy Training Publications. 800-933-1800. Written by Edrianne Ezell. Illustrated by Boris Stoilov. Scripture quotations are from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, CCD. Permission to publish granted by the Archdiocese of Chicago, on July 12, 2019.

This Week and BeyondMonday, June 1Mary, Mother of the ChurchIn the Gospel passage, Jesus ensures that his mother will be taken care of after his death. However, this passage also has a symbolic meaning. Throughout the Gospel, the Beloved Disciple has faithfully told us all that happened to Jesus so that we will believe in and worship Jesus as God’s Son. Mary represents the Church, the community of believers who are continually strengthened by the witness of this disciple. As we strive to bear Christ in our world, we continue to draw strength and gain wisdom from the faithful witness of others. Pray the Rosary this week, and ask God to help you be a more faithful witness to God’s love. Today’s Readings: Genesis 3:9–15, 20 or Acts 1:12–14; John 19:25–34.

Sunday, June 7The Most Holy TrinityBecause the first Christians worshipped the Risen Christ as Lord, it soon became necessary to explain how Jesus and God the Father, as well as the Holy Spirit, were one God and not three different gods. There were intense discussions about the nature of God in the fourth and fifth centuries. The fruit of this process is the Nicene Creed, particularly the use of the title “Father.” The term father implies relationship. If God is a father, then there must be a child. In God’s case, the child is a Son, Jesus. The relationship does not end there; it flows outward, bringing the world into existence and giving life to countless creatures. The Holy Spirit draws the world toward God so that we may become part of the divine relationship, part of God’s eternal love. Today’s Readings: Exodus 34:4b–6, 8–9; Daniel 3:52, 53, 54, 55, 56; 2 Corinthians 13:11–13; John 3:16–18.

Sunday, June 14The Body and Blood of ChristWhen Jesus’ followers gathered after his death and Resurrection to break bread and drink from the cup, they were doing something dangerous. Their Lord had been exe-cuted, and by gathering in his name they risked the same fate. They gathered nonetheless. By communing with the Risen Christ, they declared themselves part of his body and showed their willingness to suffer for the sake of the Gospel. When we come forward during Communion, we are doing the same thing. By partaking of the consecrated bread and wine, we become part of Christ’s Body. We commit our-selves to acting as Christ in the world, even to the point of suffering, maybe even shedding our blood, so that others will know of Christ’s love for them. Today’s Readings: Deuteronomy 8:2–3, 14b–16a; Psalm 147:12–13, 14–15, 19–20; 1 Corinthians 10:16–17; John 6:51–58.

Friday, June 19The Most Sacred Heart of JesusIn the First Reading, Moses reminds the Israelites that God bound himself to his people in a covenant, and they, in turn, must remain bound to God and God alone. St. John writes similarly in our Second Reading, urging us to remain bound to God by loving each other as God loves us, for God is love itself. Because we associate the human heart with love, it became natural to revere the heart of Jesus as the more par-ticular embodiment of the Father’s love. In today’s Gospel passage, Jesus tells us to yoke or bind ourselves to him. He invites us to live in a way that is not bur-densome because it is the way of love and because he accom-panies us every step of this way. We can trust him because we know that he has already bound himself to us in love. Today’s Readings: Deuteronomy 7:6–11; Psalm 103:1–2, 3–4, 6–7, 8, 10; 1 John 4:7–16; Matthew 11:25–30.