One of my dearest friends, a retired teacher of German descent, tutors children at an urban school. Once, while working on reading with an 8-year-old African American child, they shared a book about sports. When a hard word came up, Peggy would whisper conspiratorially, "Let's cheat" and they would look it up on her phone. At the end of the semester, the kids wrote thank-you notes to their tutors. This child's card began ordinarily enough, but at the end he said, "You and I have a lot in common!" He sees things more like Jesus than most of society. Peggy said she'll never throw that paper away. 

Today, our selection from Revelation offers us a vision of the new heaven and earth being born among us. This new state of affairs blurs the boundaries between heaven and earth. Its atmosphere is permeated by peoples' awareness that they live in the loving presence of God. This awareness creates an environment in which there are no more tears, mourning or pain. Nothing like that can coexist where people enjoy such a vivid awareness of God's love for and in them.  

In our Gospel, we hear Jesus give his disciples the most astounding commandment possible. It is one thing to say, "Love one another" — and that is intensified in his command to love our enemies. But here, he takes it to the extreme: "Love one another as I have loved you. … This is how all will know that you are my disciples."  

Whoa! That definitely belongs to the new heaven and earth. It seems even truer when we remember that Jesus said this on the eve of his passion, when he announced that he was giving his life for his friends. He leaves us no wiggle room. 

Before we think about loving like Jesus, we need to contemplate God's love for us. What might it feel like to hear Jesus talk about his love for you? This is not a matter of looking at the crucifix and feeling sorry or guilty or grateful. This is a question of direct contact, of communicating heart-to-heart, of getting inside one another and understanding one another from the inside out. It's this love, like Jesus' experience of the Father, that teaches us how to love like he does. 

Peggy's young friend sensed that they had understood each other. He felt in union with her. He couldn't have said what he did had he not felt love — and loved. Conspiracy is a good word for what happened between them: It means being one in spirit or soul. It happens all the time when we love someone, and has nothing to do with age or looks or gender. It's a sharing of hearts; and it changes us forever. 

That's what Jesus is asking of and offering to all of us. He was in love with his Father and with people. He knew that we all have a permeable spirit, if only we will allow others in. When it happens, we are living in the borderless new heaven and earth. There is nothing else like it. 

The author of Revelation promises that, as the newness grows among us, we will know Emmanuel, God with us. We'll experience moving through and with and in Christ. As people sharing divine life, we will wipe one another's tears and redefine death. We will cherish each one's spirit, and our only mourning will be for those who rebuff the love that enlivens those who belong to God. 

Of course, this is all grace. We cannot control it, we can only let it happen through and among us. Our close relationships are sacraments of this new way of living, revealing the possibilities of the human spirit. That's what Paul, Barnabas, Mary of Magdala and all evangelizers try to make present. We don't have to bring others into our way of worshipping or our theology, we simply need to allow ourselves to be caught up in the wonder of one another as God's own. 

This is how Jesus loved. He didn't care about what others had accomplished, what they looked like, or anything of the kind. He saw people yearning for union with others, even when they didn't recognize it themselves. He knew that we are made to live in God and one another. As St. Augustine taught, our hearts are restless until we come home to God, and there's no way to do that except as a community in spirit. 

Revelation promises no more tears in the new order. Until that day comes, we will rightly mourn for those who won't let themselves get caught up in the joy of communion. They don't realize that God looks upon all of us and says, "We're a lot alike!"

A number of years ago, I was hosting a pastor from El Salvador as he visited his U.S. sister parish. He asked me about parish life, what brought people together and what kinds of conflicts U.S. parishes might have. I told him that in that particular parish, the great unifiers were support of its school and a local and international commitment to work for justice. 

Nevertheless, I had to admit that we were in the midst of some liturgical controversy. Some leaders had asked parishioners to bake Communion bread. A few people reported to the bishop that the recipe was illegal because it included honey. Suddenly, lots of people were angry. Hearing that, the pastor shook his head and said, "The recipe police allow the devil to go drinking and dancing because they are doing his work so well!"

Today, Acts tells us that Paul and Barnabas had great success preaching in synagogues until some of the "old guard" got jealous. While the disciples urged people to remain faithful to God's grace, each side had a settled opinion about what that meant. Paul and Barnabas went a bit overboard by denouncing the Jews who could not accept Jesus and loudly lauding the Gentiles who did. Then, some influential matrons and leaders got the disciples banished.

Although Luke may not have intended it, this story depicts divisive attitudes and actions on the part of both parties, enough so that the devil probably found time for a nap or two. Our readings from John and Revelation offer commentary on this drama and what Paul and Barnabas still needed to learn.

The Fourth Sunday of Easter, "Good Shepherd Sunday," always focuses on Christ, the pastor of all creation. Today's Gospel makes up in depth what it lacks in length. The first verse tells us that Jesus' own hear and follow him. In this context, hearing means paying serious attention, allowing a message to move our heart like music moves our feet, allowing it to get deeply into us. Thus, Jesus could claim that those who hear him, follow him. Imbibing his message, they recognize it as so life-giving that any other option seems senseless. 

When Jesus says, "I give them eternal life, and no one can take them away," he's saying that hearing and following induct us into his own life, including his imperishable relationship to the Father. This reiterates John's basic message: We are made for union with God and one another, and when we enter into that, nothing can destroy it. 

Revelation records how John the visionary saw a future innumerable multitude "from every nation, race, people and tongue." These are people who have remained faithful in times of trial and tribulation, something that would be impossible without an enduring relationship with God. People like this make the devil weep with frustration. 

The problem of the religious leaders depicted in Acts was that of risking openness to more than they already knew, of taking in information that challenged cherished beliefs. They're not hard to  understand. In this age of fake news and opposing theologies, how are we to know what comes  from God and what impedes God's reign in our midst? 

Today's incident from Acts illustrates how jealousy and dogmatism fomented divisions that lasted for millennia. Throughout history, people of many beliefs have feared ideas about God that are bigger than their theologies. Revelation's message depicts how God's love extends to every nation, race, people and tongue. Jesus' claim to be humanity's shepherd reminds us that one denomination or tradition cannot claim exclusive rights to hearing God's voice. Jesus said it in John 10:16: "I have other sheep not of this fold …  they will hear my voice and there will be one flock, one shepherd." After Vatican II, we've begun to learn enough humility to recognize that God speaks in a variety of ways to people of goodwill over all of Earth. 

The 50 days of Easter give us time to move ever more deeply into being people of the Resurrection. As we do that, we ask to discern if something is from God. Today's readings offer us some criteria. Acts tells us to ask if the new idea or movement brings us the joy of the Spirit or meanness of heart. Revelation suggests that the proof comes from whether the new thing builds a world where there is no more hunger or thirst or favors one group over others.

The Gospel tells us that what is of God will always draw us toward greater unity among all people and creation and of all in God. Follow these criteria, and we can put the devil in checkmate.