Sixth Sunday of Easter
Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed to them the Christ. The multitudes listened with one accord to the things that were spoken by Philip when they heard and saw the signs which he did. For unclean spirits came out of many of those who had them. They came out, crying with a loud voice. Many who had been paralyzed and lame were healed. There was great joy in that city.
Now when the apostles who were at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent Peter and John to them, Who, when they had come down, prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Spirit; For as yet he had fallen on none of them. They had only been baptized in the name of Christ Jesus. Then they laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.
Make a joyful shout to God, all the earth! Sing to the glory of his name! Offer glory and praise! Tell God, "How awesome are your deeds! Through the greatness of your power, your enemies submit themselves to you.
All the earth will worship you, And will sing to you; They will sing to your name." Selah. Come, and see God's deeds — Awesome work on behalf of the children of men.
He turned the sea into dry land. They went through the river on foot. There, we rejoiced in him. He rules by his might forever. His eyes watch the nations. Don't let the rebellious rise up against him. Selah.
Come and hear, all you who fear God. I will declare what he has done for my soul.
Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, Nor his loving kindness from me.
But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts. Always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you a reason concerning the hope that is in you, with humility and fear, Having a good conscience. Thus, while you are spoken against as evildoers, they may be disappointed who curse your good way of life in Christ. For it is better, if it is God's will, that you suffer for doing what is right than for doing evil. Because Christ also suffered for sins once, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring you to God, being put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the Spirit.
If you love me, keep my commandments. I will pray to the Father, and he will give you another Counselor, that he may be with you forever: The Spirit of truth, whom the world can't receive, for it doesn't see him and doesn't know him. You know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you. Yet a little while, and the world will see me no more; but you will see me. Because I live, you will live also. In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. One who has my commandments and keeps them, that person is one who loves me. One who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and will reveal myself to him."
The promise of the Spirit runs like a golden thread through these readings, but notice how it comes wrapped in very human realities. Philip arrives in Samaria—a place where Jews weren't exactly welcome—and suddenly there's healing, liberation, and what Luke calls "great joy in that city." The Spirit doesn't descend in some mystical vacuum; it transforms actual neighborhoods, actual people dealing with paralysis and oppression.
Jesus speaks tenderly to his disciples about not leaving them orphans, promising another Counselor who will be with them forever. There's something deeply intimate here—the Spirit isn't just divine power, but divine presence that knows us from the inside. "You know him, for he lives with you and will be in you." This is God choosing to dwell not in temples made of stone, but in the messy, complicated temple of our daily lives.
Peter's letter adds another layer: we're called to give an account of our hope, but with "humility and fear"—not the cowering kind of fear, but the reverent awareness that we carry something precious. The hope we're asked to explain isn't abstract theology; it's the lived experience of knowing we're not alone, even in suffering.
Consider how this plays out on ordinary Tuesday mornings. The Spirit promised here is the same presence that meets us in traffic jams and difficult conversations, in moments of doubt and unexpected grace. The commandments Jesus mentions aren't burdensome rules but pathways to deeper relationship—with God, with each other, with our truest selves.
The movement from baptism to receiving the Spirit in Acts reminds us that spiritual life is both gift and journey, both instant transformation and lifelong unfolding.
Where do you sense the Spirit's presence in your most routine moments? How might your life itself become an explanation of hope to those around you?