Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Easter May 18, 2025

The “ovenbird” is common to Argentina. It gets its name from the fact that it builds its nest in an oven-like shape.

Several years ago a pair of these birds built their mud-and-straw nest on top of a monument that adorns a main plaza in Buenos Aires. A crew of workmen removed the nest. The next year the birds returned and rebuilt the nest. Again, workmen removed the nest. Once again, the birds returned and rebuilt the nest. This time citizens insisted that the workmen let the nest stay.

In our gospel reading Jesus gives a commandment that he calls “new”—and yet, it sounds quite ancient: love one another. But then, he qualifies what he means by saying, “As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” Now, this adds something to his instruction, does it not? But what, precisely, makes this commandment new?

We get some indications from the teaching of Jesus. For example, in the famous Sermon on the Mount, he says, “You have heard the commandment, ‘You shall love your countryman but hate your enemy.’ My command to you is: love your enemies, pray for your persecutors…If you love those who love you, what merit is there in that? Do not tax collectors do as much? And if you greet your brothers [and sisters] only, what is so praiseworthy about that? Do not pagans do as much?” (cf. Matthew 5:43-47)

Another indicator of what Jesus’ love looks like can be found in the account of Jesus’ crucifixion. There we read, “Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing” (cf. Luke 23:34).

So, Jesus definition of love includes loving everyone, even our enemies. And it includes a radical forgiveness, spoken and modeled during the agony on the cross.

And there is another aspect of God’s love that is important, very important. The poet Francis Thompson published a poem in which he described God’s love as persevering as a hound bounding toward its goal. Perhaps from an English class from long ago you remember the famous opening lines: “I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him…”

The point is that we can forget God, but God never forgets us. We can be indifferent towards God, but God is never indifferent toward us. We can look for love in all the wrong places, but God never withdraws his love. We can stop going to church, we can royally mess up our lives, but the hound of heaven never stops pursuing us.

And if we allow God in, when we finally stop running, how sweet that can be. A great example of that is St. Augustine, one of history’s most brilliant minds. Augustine was known for being somewhat of a playboy, indulging in the many pleasures of life. His mother Monica prayed for years for his conversion. And then, once Augustine connected with God, everything changed. Here’s the powerful and beautiful way in which he described his encounter with love:

“Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!

Lo, you were within,
but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made
I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you,
those things which would have no being,
were they not in you.

You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness;
you lavished your fragrance, I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.

When at last I cling to you with my whole being there will be no more anguish or labor for me, and my life will be alive indeed, alive because filled with you.”

Augustine had turned away from God. But God never turned away from Augustine. God simply is love. We don’t have to jump through some hoops; God already loves us. We don’t have to climb to the summit of perfection; God’s love is already with us. We can stumble and fall, again and again, but God’s love for us doesn’t change. God is not a fair weather friend. He loves us, even in the storms.

So, I think we can say that the type of love Jesus offers, the type of love Jesus asks us to have, is unshakeable and enduring. It’s challenging, to be sure. If we’ve given up on somebody, if we have hatred in our hearts, if we refuse to forgive—it’s understandable, we’re only human. But if we open our lives and our hearts to Jesus, the fire of his love can change us. It takes time, but his love is patient. We may have built protective walls and stony barriers, but his love is like a fire, like a laser that can burst through all that. And it can happen even at the last moment. Think of the “good thief” who repented while hanging on a cross: “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus’ beautiful response: “You will be with me, this day, in paradise.”

“Love one another, as I have loved you”