Daily Gospel Reflection
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May 26, 2023
After Jesus had revealed himself to his disciples and eaten breakfast with them,
he said to Simon Peter,
“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”
He then said to Simon Peter a second time,
“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”
He said to him, “Tend my sheep.”
He said to him the third time,
“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time,
“Do you love me?” and he said to him,
“Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”
Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.
Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger,
you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted;
but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will dress you
and lead you where you do not want to go.”
He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.
And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”
My first spiritual director would tell me that, in a way, Jesus was really asking Peter in today’s gospel, “Knowing what you know now, do you love me?”
The Christian life demands firm commitments from us, but they can be easily overlooked because they come in small, measured demands (like not falling asleep or not denying a friend to others around a campfire).
For us, it’s a seemingly small thing to ignore the homeless man we see in the same spot every morning on our way to work. Likewise, it seems a small thing to prioritize making peace with the sibling we always get into unnecessary arguments with.
The Christian life demands thinking like Basil the Great, “The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the one who has no shoes; the money which you hoard up belongs to the poor.”
For each person we meet in our hectic, modern lives, Christ asks us the same question as Peter. Disguised as someone asking for $1, or a lonely soul asking for 30 minutes to listen, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?” And what would the appropriate response be? The act of feeding and tending to others as they need in love. Following where these needs are is the act of following where Christ goes.
The same spiritual director used to tell me that Jesus never guilt-tripped Peter for his errors. And this reminds me that we are both Peter and the sheep in this story. We are asked for the love to help others and the humility to ask others for help when we are in need.
Prayer
Like Peter, dear Jesus, you are calling us to let go of our protestations of loyalty, of our “I can do it myself” confidence. May it become inescapably clear to us that we can’t really do anything without your help, that we must serve others with the full, painful awareness of our own incapacity. The strength we will need comes only from you. Above all, help us to realize that all those we shepherd, care for, mentor, and guide are your flock, not ours.
Saint of the Day

St. Philip Neri was extraordinarily touched by the divine presence, and radiated such joy that he was moved to share it with all he met. He became known as the “Apostle to Rome” because by the time he died, everyone in that city looked up to him as an example of great faithfulness.
He was born in 1515 in Florence and was described as a prayerful and sweet child; his nickname was Pippo buono—“good little Phil.” When he was 18, he went to live with a relative who had a thriving business, with the thought that he would inherit the work, but he had a kind of mystical experience that turned his attention from worldly affairs—he called it a conversion.
He soon struck out for Rome with no money or plans, and found a place to live in the attic of a government official. Philip tutored the family’s children in exchange for room and board, though he ate little more than bread and a few vegetables once a day. He spent the rest of his time in prayer, and over the course of two years his spiritual life strengthened and grew.
He came out of this extended retreat to enter the university, but after a few years of study he suddenly left that work, sold his books, and set out to engage people on the streets with the faith. Many Romans were not living faithfully at the time—the city was at a low point after a sacking in 1527—and abuses and corruption marked the Church. Philip set out to re-evangelize Rome.
He began by standing on the street and starting a dialogue with passers by. He had an easy disposition and a healthy sense of humor, and would often strike up conversations by saying, “Well, brothers, when shall we begin to do good?” In the evenings, he would spend his time in prayer.
On the eve of Pentecost in 1544, as he prayed in the catacombs, he had another mystical experience that permanently shaped his life and even his body. A ball of fire appeared to him and entered his mouth. It seemed to expand inside his body, and he was filled with ecstatic, euphoric feelings of divine love. “Enough, enough, Lord!” he exclaimed, rolling on the ground. “I can bear no more!”
When he placed his hand on his chest, he felt a swelling there the size of his fist, and it remained there for the rest of his life, but it did not hurt. From then on, whenever he felt a deep spiritual emotion, his body would shake and tremble. Sometimes, the lump seemed to burn, and he would strip his chest bare to relieve the heat. He feared he would die of God’s love. When he died, it was discovered that two of his ribs were broken and had formed a large cavity to expand the area where his heart beat.
In 1548, he began to gather a group of people together for prayer and service. The group cared for poor and suffering pilgrims—nearly 150,000 of them one year—and eventually took on more permanent responsibility for people who were chronically ill.
In 1551, Philip was ordained a priest, and his ministry in the confessional became very popular. He could read people’s hearts, and gathered people together for prayer and to encourage them with his preaching. An oratory room was built for this ministry, which continued to grow, and eventually Philip gathered some close followers and established a much larger oratory outside of Rome to serve the crowds.
Their work continues there today; the Oratorians take no formal vows, but promise to live in charity with one another. Some 500 priests serve more than 70 oratories around the world today. St. John Henry Newman and St. Francis de Sales were both members of this order.
Philip was always in touch with the supernatural—people said that they noticed his face radiating light, and he often fell into deep, ecstatic trances while celebrating Mass. In fact, his normal congregations got used to beginning Mass with him, then leaving after the “Lamb of God” to let him experience his rapture, and return two hours later to finish the liturgy and receive Communion.
Philip died of a massive heart attack on this date in 1595, which was the feast of Corpus Christi. His relics rest in the reliquary chapel in the Basilica, and the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art contains the sketch above, which depicts him conversing with someone on the streets in Rome.
St. Philip Neri, your body and soul was touched with divine love and you shared it with with others, pray for us!
To learn even more about Saint Philip Neri, watch this video lecture from the McGrath Institute for Church Life at the University of Notre Dame.
Image credit:
Guido Reni (Italian, 1575-1642), A Scene from the Life of St. Philip Neri (detail), ca. 1609-14, ink on paper. Raclin Murphy Museum of Art: Gift of Mr. John D. Reilly '63, 2005.042.001. )