The Fifth Sunday of Easter (2026)
We hear a great deal about the Apostles during the Easter Season. And this Sunday is no exception, as we hear Thomas and Philip ask questions and make requests that draw us further into the mystery of who Jesus is.
Philip’s request is a very human one: “Lord, show us the Father.”
And perhaps, in one form or another, that is also what we are asking:
Help us understand.
Help us see.
Show us God.
There is something deeply honest in Philip’s request. He is not rejecting Jesus. He is trying to understand. And we can’t fault him for that. After all, even those who had walked closest to Jesus were still learning who he was and what his mission meant.
And Jesus responds not with impatience, but with revelation: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”
These are extraordinary words. As Pope Benedict XVI once reflected, in Christ, God has given himself a human face. If we want to know what God is like, we look to Jesus. And what do we see there?
We see mercy stronger than judgment.
Compassion stronger than indifference.
Self-giving love stronger than dominiation.
And, in the light of Easter, we see life stronger than death.
To look upon the Son is to see, as in a portrait, the Father—truth, wisdom, life, even resurrection itself. And that means the Resurrection is not simply the claim that Jesus lives again. It is the revelation that the One who showed us the face of the Father remains present to us.
This, I think, is one reason this Gospel is given to us in Easter. Because Easter is not only about what happened to Jesus. It is about what his risen life means for us. And that brings us to another extraordinary line in this Gospel:
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
We might be tempted to hear those words as though Jesus is giving directions. But he is saying something much deeper. He isn’t pointing out a route to God. He is offering himself as the way into the life of God. And so, when Philip asks to be shown the Father, Jesus is effectively saying: You have already been shown. In me, the way is open.
And that changes how we understand faith.
Faith is not simply believing certain things about Jesus. It is trusting him enough to follow where he leads. It is allowing his life to shape ours. And we do not live that out alone. The face of God is not hidden from us. It is revealed in Christ.
But sometimes we can be like Philip and we can settle for too little—asking for only a glimpse when much more is being offered. As Sister Barbara Reid has reflected, this can be like stopping at a cheap motel when palatial accommodations are being offered. We can settle for less than the fullness of life and communion that Christ desires for us.
And perhaps we do this whenever we reduce faith to obligation… or prayer to words… or Easter to a memory.
But Jesus offers much more. He isn’t simply offering consolation, but communion. Not merely reassurance, but a home in God. The one Jesus calls “Father” is not distant. In Jesus, the way into the life of God is already open to us. And we do that by living with him and in him.This is why we hear in today’s Gospel: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places…” This isn’t about heaven. It is a promise that even now there is room for us in the life of God:
A place for our questions.
A place for our hopes.
A place even for our doubts.
And perhaps this matters especially in those moments when we do not see clearly—when something in us is unsettled and we are not sure how to move forward.
It’s here that Easter speaks. The Risen Christ does not abandon us in those places. He remains the way. And perhaps that is the deeper invitation of this Gospel:
not simply to ask, “Who is Jesus?” but to ask whether we trust him enough to let him lead us.
And that is not an abstract question.
In fact, one of the challenges we face is that we are often overwhelmed. We are constantly aware of suffering, conflict, and need in every part of the world. And while that awareness matters, we are not built to carry all of it at once.
But faith is not lived in the abstract or at a distance. It is lived here—in the relationships we are part of, in the responsibilities placed before us, and in the people we encounter each day.
We may not be able to change everything, but we are called to be faithful in something.
And often, it is there—in the concrete, ordinary places of our lives—that we learn what it means to follow Christ, who is the way. And this shapes how we pray, how we forgive… it shapes how we live.
Because if Christ is the way, then we don’t walk alone.
If Christ reveals the Father, then God is not distant.
And if Christ is life, then death, fear, and loss do not have the final word.
This is what we celebrate in these Easter days. Not simply that Christ is risen, but that the Risen Christ remains with us—revealing the Father, guiding us along the way, and drawing us ever more deeply into the life of God.
Like Philip, we are not asked to understand everything, but simply to trust… to keep following… to remain open to the One who is the way.
And it is there, often slowly and sometimes unexpectedly, that we come to know not only that God is not far from us, but that in Christ we are already being drawn into the life of God.
Almighty ever-living God,
constantly accomplish the Paschal Mystery within us,
that those you were pleased to make new in Holy Baptism
may, under your protective care, bear much fruit
and come to the joys of life eternal.
