Dai­ly Reflec­tion
May 18, 2025

Sunday of the Fifth week in East­er
Lectionary: 54
Sara Schulte-Bukowin­s­ki


“Behold, God’s dwelling is with the human race.
He will dwell with them and they will be his peo­ple
and God him­self will always be with them as their God.” (Rev­e­la­tion 21:3)

This pas­sage from Rev­e­la­tion brings to mind for me many of the sto­ries of fideli­ty through­out the Hebrew Scrip­tures. From the first book of the Bible we see God’s fideli­ty pro­claimed to the patri­archs. The covenant is renewed with Moses. The prophets lat­er pick up the theme, empha­siz­ing God’s faith­ful­ness in the face of our human infi­deli­ty. But one sto­ry came to the fore­front for me as I reflect­ed on today’s read­ings: Ruth.

The very short book of Ruth tells of a Moabite woman who mar­ries a Hebrew man as he dwells in Moab. When her hus­band and her father-in-law die, her moth­er-in-law Nao­mi tells Ruth to return to her mother’s house. Per­haps she can mar­ry again. Nao­mi sees a pos­si­ble future for her beloved daugh­ter-in-law in her fam­i­ly of ori­gin. She sees no such future for Ruth with her. How­ev­er, Ruth refus­es to return to her own fam­i­ly. She sojourns with Nao­mi back to her husband’s home. It was not the pru­dent thing to do. There was no secu­ri­ty in that plan. But Ruth tells Nao­mi “Your peo­ple shall be my peo­ple, and your God shall be my God.” (Ruth 1:16). Thus begins this extra­or­di­nary jour­ney of these women. Though a short book, the name of Ruth endures in the Judeo-Chris­t­ian tra­di­tion. Indeed, while not a Hebrew woman her­self, she is one of the only women named in the geneal­o­gy of Jesus pro­vid­ed in the Gospel of Matthew.

Why do today’s read­ings bring Ruth to mind? I find in the pas­sage from Revleation a procla­ma­tion of God’s fideli­ty. This is won­der­ful, salvif­ic news for believ­ers. But our Gospel tells us we are not just recip­i­ents of God’s action, we are called to live it our­selves. “I give you a new com­mand­ment: love one anoth­er. As I have loved you, so you also should love one anoth­er” (John 13:34). How does God love? Faith­ful­ly, impru­dent­ly, with­out a safe­ty net. God’s love ulti­mate­ly leads to the cross.

How are we called to love? I am cer­tain­ly not say­ing every indi­vid­ual believ­er should go out of their way to take dan­ger­ous per­son­al risks. The cross may come to us if we are faith­ful, but we don’t have to go look­ing for it. We just have to be faith­ful. I look at those who actu­al­ly feel called to love at great risk—international peace­keep­ers, doc­tors with­out bor­ders, aid work­ers through­out the world—with pro­found admi­ra­tion. They mod­el some­thing of Ruth for me, and Ruth mod­els some­thing of God’s incar­nate love. I may need to give more thought to where and how God might be call­ing me to such love.
Can I love with­out think­ing of “me and my own” first? Can I love with­out fear that there won’t be enough if I’m gen­er­ous? Can I love with­out wor­ry­ing about whether some­one is get­ting some­thing they don’t deserve? I already know some­one who is: through God’s grace and faith­ful love, it’s me.

In these extra­or­di­nary times in my own nation there is a lot of talk about where our shared pri­or­i­ties should be—who gets what? How much is too much? Will there be enough? Peo­ple of good will can come to dif­fer­ent con­clu­sions about spe­cif­ic social actions, but Chris­tians can­not come to dif­fer­ent con­clu­sions about our voca­tion to love, to love faith­ful­ly, even impru­dent­ly. God’s love is faith­ful, fig­ures like Ruth show us how to live that fideli­ty in our own rela­tion­ships. My prayer today for myself and my fel­low Chris­tians is that we might strive, like Ruth, to be root­ed always in faith­ful love, nev­er in fear.

Sara Schulte-Bukowin­s­ki

Parish Life Direc­tor, St. John’s Parish

Orig­i­nal­ly from cen­tral Nebras­ka, where my home dio­cese of Grand Island nur­tured voca­tions to lay min­istry, I pur­sued Divin­i­ty stud­ies and com­plet­ed my M.Div. at the Jesuit School of The­ol­o­gy at Berke­ley in 2007. After 12 years doing for­ma­tion and edu­ca­tion in Catholic schools I was able to respond to my voca­tion in a dif­fer­ent way by step­ping into my cur­rent role as a lay pas­toral min­is­ter (Parish Life Direc­tor) at St. John’s Church on Creighton’s cam­pus. I live in Oma­ha with my hus­band Adam, our dog Lil­ly, and as of 2022 my par­ents-in-law Ann and George.

In grad­u­ate school I was for­tu­nate to take a course from the illus­tri­ous the­olo­gian and Johan­nine schol­ar, Saun­dra Schnei­ders. I still remem­ber her talk­ing about the loca­tion where ongo­ing scrip­tur­al rev­e­la­tion occurs—in the space between the page and the eyes of the read­er. This is where the Divine meets the real­i­ties of our lives, in our time and place. I look for­ward to shar­ing this encounter togeth­er as part of this reflec­tion team.