The Gate” John 10:1-10 April 26, 2026 Rev. Annie Watson, Holy Family Catholic Church

 

 

In John 10, Jesus calls himself the shepherd, and we are his sheep—the ones who hear his voice and follow. It’s a tender, comforting image, one that pairs beautifully with the opening of Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”

But in the same passage, Jesus adds another layer: “I am the gate for the sheep.”
Not the gatekeeper.
Not the fence or the wall.
Not the watchdog.
And certainly not the thief who comes to steal.

Jesus is the gate—the point of entry. Through him, we step from one reality into another.

Whenever I read this, I’m reminded of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri. My husband and I lived and served in the St. Louis area for about six and a half years before coming here four years ago. His church was in Ferguson, in North St. Louis County, while I served St. Stanislaus Polish Catholic Church downtown, just minutes from the Arch. We were practically in its shadow.

If you’ve never seen the Gateway Arch, it is truly something to behold. Rising 630 feet into the sky, it is the tallest arch in the world. Built sixty years ago, it stands as the “Gateway to the West,” a monument to the United States’ westward expansion.

For anyone driving through St. Louis, the Arch is a striking reminder of a moment in history when people stepped into a new reality, seeking abundance and opportunity. That journey required courage—because it was also filled with danger, disease, disaster, and death.

And we must also remember that westward expansion brought devastating consequences for Indigenous peoples. The Arch, for all its beauty, represents a threshold that was not good news for everyone. Still, it marks a historic crossing point, a symbolic welcome into the American West, and it gives St. Louis an unmistakable identity.

Jesus, too, is a gateway—but in a profoundly different way, with profoundly different results. He is not the threshold into the old American West, but into the newness of God’s reality. Through him, we receive an identity—not as citizens of a region, but as people who know his voice and enter through him.

He does not call us to bravery in the face of physical danger. Instead, he offers spiritual safety, abundant life, and a way of being that is good news for everyone. No one must be displaced so that others may enter. The gate of Jesus is open wide.

So as we step through this gate—from one reality into another—we are invited to ask:
Who is leading us?
What voices do we follow?
And what kind of “expansion” are we pursuing—territorial or spiritual?

Life with God is not found by heading in a certain direction on a map. It doesn’t require climbing walls, forcing our way in, or listening to voices that promise shortcuts. Life with God is found by entering through the Gate, Jesus Christ—through his way of love, truth, and self-giving.

The Gate is open.
Enter freely.
Find safety.
Find abundance.
Amen.

Celebration of Life: Rev. Wanda Russell ARCWP

https://youtu.be/d7HUpjCrCds

The stories this community shared about Wanda yesterday gave beautiful testimony to her spirit—her listening heart, her compassion, her joy, and her generous hospitality.

In this moment of grief and gratitude, we trust in Jesus’ promise—that Wanda has now heard those words fully:

“Come to me…”
not just as an invitation, but as a loving embrace into the fullness of life—reunited with her dear Mom and all her loved ones who were there to greet her as she crossed over.

Jesus speaks of a “yoke” that is easy—not because life is without struggle, but because love carries us through it.

And now, even our grief at the loss of Wanda’s earthly presence can open us to a new relationship with her—her eternal presence, her love with us always.

Wanda lived that kind of love and deep faith—
the kind that lightens the load for others,
that makes room,
that listens,
that shows up.

And that love does not end—
it becomes a blessing that goes on and on, forever.

And then we hear that beautiful promise:

“In God’s house there are many dwelling places… I go to prepare a place for you.”

A promise of home—wide enough for all, filled with belonging.
Today, we entrust Wanda into that spacious love of God,
where there is no more pain, no more worry—
only peace, only the fullness of life.

And perhaps the most comforting promise of all is this:

“I will come back and take you with me… so that where I am, you also may be.”

Love never ends.
Wanda is held in God’s embrace.

So as we remember her, we give thanks—
for her life, her love, her witness.

And we listen, even now, for the quiet invitation of Christ—
not only to Wanda, but to each of us:

Come… rest… trust…
Trust in the power of Love—
the Beloved’s unconditional and everlasting love for you.

And we echo together:
Love is our Light and our Salvation.

Today, we also hear the tender promise spoken through the prophet Isaiah and echoed in the letter to Timothy:

“I have called you by name, you are mine.
You are precious in my eyes, and I love you and give you honor…”

Today, we trust that Wanda hears these words now in their fullness—
named, claimed, loved, and welcomed home
in the heart of God.

Blessing:

Holy One,

Source of Life, Love, and Everlasting Compassion,

we gather in gratitude for Wanda—

a beloved woman priest,

a courageous witness to Gospel equality,

a companion on the journey of justice and love.

We bless her memory,

for she broke open the Word

with wisdom and tenderness.

She welcomed all to the table—

without condition, without exception

reflecting your boundless hospitality.

We remember how she

anointed the broken with hope,

stood with the marginalized in solidarity,

and lived as a sacrament of your inclusive love.

Now, Holy Mystery,

receive Wanda into your eternal embrace—

that vast communion where love never ends

and where all tears are transformed into joy.

May she rest in the deep peace of your presence,

and may she rise in glory

as part of the great cloud of witnesses

who continue to surround and guide us.

And as we remember her,

may her spirit live on in us—

in our courage to speak truth,

in our commitment to justice,

in our joyful proclamation of a Church renewed.

Wanda, faithful priest and beloved friend,

we bless you.

We thank you.

We release you into Love.

And together we say:

Gospel: 

Lector: A reading from the holy Gospel according to

Mathew and John. (Matthew 11: 28-30 and John 14: 1-3)

All: Glory to You, O God!

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will

give you rest. Take up my yoke upon you and learn from me, for

I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for

yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” Don’t let

your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; In God’s house

there are many dwelling places; otherwise how could I have told

you that I was going to prepare a place for you and then I will

come back to take you with me, so that where I am, there you

may be as well.

Why We Use the Lectionary—and Sometimes Go Beyond It

Recently, someone asked me a thoughtful question:
Why do your communities sometimes follow the Catholic lectionary—and other times use different or additional Scripture readings?

I’m really grateful for this question, because it goes right to the heart of how we listen to God’s Word in our time.

First, let me say this clearly: we deeply value the lectionary. The cycle of readings that developed after the Second Vatican Council is a beautiful gift. It connects Catholics around the world and draws us into the life of Jesus in a shared rhythm.¹

In our inclusive Catholic communities, we often use these readings—especially during Advent, Lent, Easter, and other major feasts—because we cherish that connection to the wider Church.

And… we don’t always stop there.

Sometimes, in prayer and conversation, our community senses a call to expand or choose additional readings. Not because we’re dismissing the lectionary, but because we believe something simple and profound:

The Word of God is still speaking.

So we ask together:
What is the Spirit inviting us to hear—right here, right now?

At times, that leads us to include passages that aren’t often heard in Sunday liturgy, or that are shortened in ways that soften their impact. For example:

• In Romans 16, we meet Phoebe, named as a deacon, and Junia, called “prominent among the apostles.” Yet these verses are rarely proclaimed in Sunday liturgy.²
• In John 4, the Samaritan woman becomes one of the first evangelizers—yet her role as a theological voice is often underplayed.
• In Genesis 16 and 21, Hagar, a marginalized woman, names God as “the One who sees me.”³
• In Galatians 3:28, we hear that in Christ there is “no longer male and female”—a vision of equality that still challenges us today.

Sometimes we also include verses that the lectionary leaves out—especially when they speak about justice, inclusion, or challenge systems of exclusion.

And sometimes, we include additional readings that help us live the Gospel in today’s world.

These might be:

• A reflection from a contemporary theologian or spiritual writer
• A poem or prayer that speaks to justice, compassion, or healing
• A reading that highlights care for Earth, racial justice, gender equality, or peace-making
• Or even a brief community reflection that connects Scripture to lived experience

In this way, Scripture is not just something we hear—it becomes something we enter, reflect on, and live.

For us, this isn’t about choosing “favorite readings.” It’s about communal discernment—listening together for how the Gospel becomes a living word now.

It may help to remember that the earliest Christian communities didn’t have a fixed lectionary. They shared the stories of Jesus in ways that spoke directly to their lives. The lectionary came later—and it’s a beautiful development—but it’s not the only way the Spirit has guided the Church.⁴

So in a sense, we are holding both:

• a deep respect for tradition
• and a deep trust in the Spirit’s ongoing movement

Some people wonder if this affects unity. That’s a fair question. But unity has never meant everyone doing everything exactly the same way. From the beginning, there have been diverse expressions of faith and practice.

What unites us is deeper than uniformity. It is our shared desire to:
hear the Word, break it open, and live it.

At the end of the day, our goal is simple:
to create spaces where people can encounter a God who is alive, present, and still speaking—especially to those who have too often been left out.

Footnotes

1. Second Vatican Council, Sacrosanctum Concilium.
2. Romans 16:1–7; see Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, In Memory of Her.
3. Genesis 16:13; see Elizabeth A. Johnson.
4. John Henry Newman, Development of Christian Doctrine.

Women as Deacons – the Long Struggle for Women's Ordination in the Catholic Church by Rev. Dr. Ida Raming RCWP

 

Women as deacons – the long struggle for women's ordination

in the Catholic Church

 

The struggle for women's access to the diaconate in the Catholic Church has been raging for a long time, and women are still excluded from this office. This is fundamentally shameful for the leadership of the Church, because there is evidence that this office existed for women already in the early Church, as can be seen from texts in the New Testament:

 

"I commend to you our sister Phoebe, who is a deacon in the church in Cenchrea, that you may receive her in the Lord in a manner worthy of the saints..............." (Romans 16:1).

 

Later, however, in the medieval church, this office was contested for women due to the patriarchal attitudes that were prevalent at the time and still are today. This is evident from sources of ecclesiastical law in the Corpus Iuris Canonici, more specifically from the first part of the Corpus, the Decretum Grationi. A well-known legal scholar of the Middle Ages, Johannes Teutonicus, claimed that women were not eligible for ordination because of their gender.

 

However, although this opinion was probably the prevailing view at the time, it was not entirely unchallenged, as can be seen from the concluding remarks on C. 27 q. 1 c. 23 Commentary on the Decretum Gratiani, which states:

 

"Alii (the others, i.e. those who do not share Johannes Teutonicus' opinion) confess, however, that a nun can indeed be validly ordained, because on the basis of baptism any (suitable) person can be validly ordained." (dicunt, quod si Monialis ordinetur, bene recipit characterem (ordinis): quia ordinari (quaestio) facti est et post baptismum quilibet potest ordinari).

 

As evidence for this statement, reference is made to the following decision of the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD):

"No woman shall be ordained (ordinari) as a deaconess before she is 40 years of age, and then only after careful examination. But if, after receiving ordination and exercising her office for some time, she marries, despising the grace of God, she shall be excommunicated, together with the one who married her" (Decision of the Council on C. 27 q. 1 c. 23 Decretum Grationi).

 

According to this view, which contradicts traditional thinking, the indispensable prerequisite for valid ordination is not male gender, but baptism alone!

 

And today?

 

Women are still excluded from the diaconate and priesthood in the Catholic Church, even though the CIC states (can. 849 CIC/1983):

 

„Baptism is the gateway to the sacraments; its actual reception, or at least the desire for it is necessary for salvation; through it, people are freed from sin, recreated as children of God and through an indelible mark, conformed to Christ and incorporated into the Church“

 

This can. 849 CIC clearly contradicts can 1024 CIC: „Only a baptized man can validly recieve holy orders.“

Why has this not been recognized and observed long ago?

 

The anti-Christian patriarchal thinking that unfortunately still prevails, especially in the Vatican. prevents the progress that is so necessary and that Jesus Christ demands of the Church.

 

This is made clear in Mark 10,42ff.

 

Jesus says: „You know that the rulers of the nations oppress them (the people) and that the great ones make them feel their power: it shall not be so anong you; rather, whoever among you wishes to be great shall be your servant, and who ever among you wishes to be first shall be your slave. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served , but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many...“ (see also Matthew 20,25)

 

Stuttgart, March 2026 (vollständige englische Übersetzung)

 

Dr. theol. Ida Raming

 

Published in „Kirche In“, Juily 2025 issue

 

Further reading: Ida Raming, The exclusion of Women from the Priesthood . God-given Tradition or Discrimination?, 1973, 3^rd edition Lit Verlag 2024, see pages 115 and 164,