Friday before Ascension Sunday
First Reading — Acts 18:9–18
'I have many people on my side in this city'
At Corinth one night the Lord spoke to Paul in a vision, ‘Do not be afraid to speak out, nor allow yourself to be silenced: I am with you. I have so many people on my side in this city that no one will even attempt to hurt you.’ So Paul stayed there preaching the word of God among them for eighteen months.
But, while Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews made a concerted attack on Paul and brought him before the tribunal.
‘We accuse this man’ they said ‘of persuading people to worship God in a way that breaks the Law.’
Before Paul could open his mouth, Gallio said to the Jews, ‘Listen, you Jews. If this were a misdemeanour or a crime, I would not hesitate to attend to you; but if it is only quibbles about words and names, and about your own Law, then you must deal with it yourselves – I have no intention of making legal decisions about things like that.’
Then he sent them out of the court, and at once they all turned on Sosthenes, the synagogue president, and beat him in front of the court house. Gallio refused to take any notice at all.
After staying on for some time, Paul took leave of the brothers and sailed for Syria, accompanied by Priscilla and Aquila. At Cenchreae he had his hair cut off, because of a vow he had made.
Responsorial Psalm — Psalm 46(47):2–7
All peoples, clap your hands,
cry to God with shouts of joy!
For the Lord, the Most High, we must fear,
great king over all the earth.
He subdues peoples under us
and nations under our feet.
Our inheritance, our glory, is from him,
given to Jacob out of love.
God goes up with shouts of joy;
the Lord goes up with trumpet blast.
Sing praise for God, sing praise,
sing praise to our king, sing praise.
Gospel — John 16:20–23
Your hearts will be full of joy that no-one will take from you
Jesus said to his disciples:
‘I tell you most solemnly,
you will be weeping and wailing
while the world will rejoice;
you will be sorrowful,
but your sorrow will turn to joy.
A woman in childbirth suffers,
because her time has come;
but when she has given birth to the child she forgets the suffering
in her joy that a man has been born into the world.
So it is with you: you are sad now,
but I shall see you again, and your hearts will be full of joy,
and that joy no one shall take from you.
When that day comes,
you will not ask me any questions.’
Reflection
Today’s readings hold together two realities many people struggle to reconcile: fear and joy.
Paul receives reassurance directly from the Lord: “Do not be afraid to speak out.” That instruction reveals something important—courage is not the absence of fear. If Paul needed encouragement, then fear itself was already present.
Most people experience this tension quietly. They become cautious about speaking honestly, cautious about conviction, cautious about remaining visible in difficult environments. Over time, fear narrows the soul. It persuades people to become smaller versions of themselves simply to avoid conflict or rejection.
But Christ tells Paul to remain.
Not because Corinth suddenly becomes easy, but because divine presence changes how suffering is carried. The Catechism reminds believers that the Holy Spirit strengthens the faithful in perseverance and witness even amid hardship (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church 1817–1821).
Then the Gospel moves directly into sorrow.
Jesus speaks with remarkable honesty. He does not dismiss grief or pretend suffering is imaginary. “You will be weeping and wailing.” Christianity is not emotional denial. Christ Himself fully entered human anguish.
Yet He also says something that becomes central to Christian hope: “your sorrow will turn to joy.”
Not avoided. Not minimised. Transformed.
That distinction matters deeply.
Because much of human life involves waiting for understanding that has not arrived yet. People carry disappointments they cannot explain, losses they cannot repair, questions that remain unresolved. And during those seasons, joy can feel impossible.
But Christ compares suffering to childbirth: pain that eventually gives way to life.
The Catechism teaches that Christian hope is anchored not in optimism, but in trust that God remains faithful beyond present suffering (CCC 1817–1821). This means joy is no longer dependent purely on circumstance. It becomes rooted in resurrection.
Paul remains in Corinth because God is with him.
The disciples endure sorrow because Christ promises reunion.
And perhaps mature faith begins when a person learns this difficult truth:
Not every season makes sense while you are inside it.
Not every sorrow remains permanent.
Not every silence means abandonment.
Some forms of joy only become visible after endurance.
One line to carry today:
Joy rooted in Christ survives what temporary circumstances cannot.

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