SOCL, Easter6C

Sunday May 25, 2025

See

We construct elaborate monuments to presence—constant connectivity, curated feeds, endless documentation—yet feel increasingly hollow. The more we amplify our visibility, the more we disappear from ourselves. This frantic accumulation of evidence masks a terrifying suspicion: perhaps we exist most fully in the spaces between our performances.

True intimacy operates through strategic withdrawal. The parent who steps back allows the child to discover independence; the teacher who remains silent creates space for genuine questions to emerge. Love that clings destroys what it claims to protect, while love that releases creates conditions for authentic encounter. We mistake possession for connection, surveillance for care.

The deepest dwelling happens not through accumulation but through evacuation—clearing space for what cannot be summoned or controlled. Peace arrives not as the absence of disruption but as the presence of something uncontainable by our systems of security. We are most at home when we stop trying to construct home everywhere else.

Listen

Acts 15:1-2, 22-29; Psalm 67 (66); Apoc 21:10-14, 22-23; John 14:23-29

Reflect

(John 14:23-29)

Think about a relationship where you've tried to control outcomes through constant attention, checking, or managing—perhaps monitoring someone's social media, over-texting, or micro-managing a project. Notice how this hypervigilance creates anxiety rather than connection, pushing away what you're desperately trying to hold close.

Jesus promises that divine presence emerges through love expressed as faithful action, not emotional intensity or constant contact. Consider how stepping back from controlling behaviors might create space for genuine encounter—allowing others to choose freely, trusting without evidence, loving without possession or surveillance.

Where in your life could you practice "strategic absence"—reducing your need to monitor, control, or constantly connect? How might withdrawing your anxious attention actually create space for deeper intimacy, allowing both yourself and others to breathe, choose, and show up authentically?

Pray

Lord, you inhabit the spaces we cannot construct or control. Grant us courage to release our grip on relationships, trusting that love grows through freedom rather than surveillance. Help our communities discover intimacy through respect rather than intrusion. Transform our fear of abandonment into faith that true connection survives distance, silence, and the terrifying gift of choice.