“[T]hat all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” // John 17:21 I recently met a young woman who expressed her disappointment in the Church. She talked about how young people were easily judged because they loved culture or were associated with people who had left the Church. She talked about unwelcomed hard questions and a watered-down Gospel. “Is the Church really ‘one’?” she sighed. In John 17, under a dark and dismaying backdrop of betrayal, Jesus put words around His deepest longings for His beloved friends: “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us” (John 17:21). To be “in Him” is to unite with Him in His suffering, death, and resurrection. To be “in Him” is to be infused with virtues of faith, hope, and love. To be “in Him” is to be immersed in our baptismal identity. There are more things that unite us than those that divide. How easy it is as we encounter similar cynicism to fall into the trap of gossip? How easy it is to simply recoil and retreat? What we’ve watered down is not the Gospel, but our understanding of redemptive love. To live by the standard of this love requires so much more than just emotions. It calls for radical commitment. It demands practicing new habits of relating, marked by repentance, humility, and patience. It calls for complete oneness in Him. Sister, maybe your hurt is deeply personal. Christ’s heart aches at the brokenness, especially—within His Church. He desires to heal our collective wounds and fortify our combined weaknesses. His desire for us will always be unity. When our loyalty to Christ precedes our loyalty to anything else, a common ground appears amongst us. Nothing can erase this indelible mark because we are called together by one Lord into one faith through one baptism. We are the Church—a building built not by human hands, but held up by the beams of the Cross. Here, He receives our weakness and our wavering gaze. Here, our hearts are softened and our voices lower. Here, we listen and learn to love. Here, we are made ‘one’ by His Spirit. Here, we are empowered to change the world. Are you by the Cross today? [bctt tweet="His desire for us will always be unity. // Michelle D'Silva" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion

“It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” // Mark 6:18 My stomach tightened. It was happening all over again. Another person offended? I tossed and turned that night, relaying conversations I had with a friend. God didn’t just call you to be nice! That statement has been rattling around in my head ever since. For a long time, “niceness” was not just about being accepted; it was an ‘identity’ I struggled to leave behind. Its insidious influence is creeping into my relationships like warm and inviting idolatry, wedging itself between me and my obedience to Christ. In today’s reading (Mark 6:14-29), we reflect on the unflinching zeal of John the Baptist, whose truth-telling proved fatal while confronting Herod about his adulterous marriage to Herodias. But John stood like a rock, unwavering in mission. He understood the difference between graciousness and compromise, between fearing men and obeying Christ. John was a lover of truth. He was willing to risk everything for it, even his life. We live in a culture where it is easy to say, “This is none of my business” or “I don’t have the influence to change things” or “They won’t listen anyway.” Yet, Love is inseparable from truth. As I lay awake that night, I became aware of familiar fears—fears of rejection and ridicule, fears of losing relationships, of being weaned away from earthly possession, of stepping out of comfort zones. I realized I cannot follow Jesus and be nice. Not equally. I may win acceptance, but I will forfeit genuine truth-telling. In the end, niceness will only turn me into a “whitewashed tomb” (Matthew 23:27)—pristine on the outside but empty within. The choices for living truth in this world are radical: Happy or holy? Comfort or courage? Shiny veneer or openness to “light momentary” discomfort? To remain silent or to speak? On days when we sense the pressure to soften our convictions or feel the surge of temptation to opt for the wide gate of “niceness,” may we lean on Saint John’s intercession—for wisdom to know when to speak and the courage to live it. [bctt tweet="Love is inseparable from truth. // Michelle Karen D'Silva" username="blessedisshe__"] listen to today’s devotion