5th Sunday of Easter – 3 May 2026

The Gospel we hear today, from the fourteenth chapter of John, is spoken at a moment of deep uncertainty. Jesus senses the anxiety of his disciples. Everything familiar is about to change. The one they have relied upon, the one who has gathered and guided them, is speaking of departure. And into that unsettled moment he says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  This is not a denial of reality. It is not a reassurance that nothing will change. It is, rather, an invitation to trust in a deeper presence that will remain even when structures shift and visible leadership passes.

Perhaps, this gives us a window by which to view our own moment as a local Church, as the Diocese of Broken Bay.

Last Wednesday evening we celebrated the Ordination of three new priests, including that of Deacon Tan Nguyen who has been with us the past seven months. It was a moment of undoubtable grace: a sign that God continues to call, that the Gospel continues to take root in new lives, and that the Church is not simply something we inherit, but something continually given and re-generating. At the same time, we stand on the threshold of another change: the impending departure of our bishop Anthony, and the reality that the See is now vacant – in fact, the only diocese now vacant in Australia. Tomorrow, too, we farewell one of our beloved priests of the diocese, Fr David Taylor – one of those ordained not too long after the establishment of our Diocese forty years ago.

Ordination and departure. Beginning and letting go. Stability and transition, all held together at once. Into this moment the words of Jesus speak with renewed clarity: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me.”

It is easy to place our sense of security in visible structures whether they be leaders, roles, familiar patterns. Of course, these matter deeply; they are not insignificant. The bishop of the local Church is not simply an administrator but a sign of unity, a shepherd of the local Church. Priests are not functionaries but servants of Word and Sacrament, and those with whom we form strong bonds. Yet today’s Gospel gently but firmly shifts our focus. Ultimately, the Church does not rest on any one individual. It rests on Jesus himself. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”  

Note that Jesus does not say, “I will show you a way,” but “I am the way.” Our path forward then as a local Church, whether in times of fullness or vacancy, clarity or uncertainty, is not first a strategy or a plan. It is always a relationship. It is fidelity to the person of Jeus himself.

This gives a particular meaning to what we have just witnessed in the Ordinations to the Priesthood this past week. Our new priests are not ordained to stand in their own strength. They are ordained to point beyond themselves, to make present, in Word and Sacrament, the One who remains when all else changes. Their ministry will only bear fruit to the extent that it leads others to say, not “look at us,” but “we have seen the Lord.”

And this also gives a deeper meaning to the departure of our bishop. The vacancy of a diocese can feel like a gap, even a vulnerability. But it can also be a moment of deep renewal, a reminder that our Church is always more than its visible leadership, notwithstanding just how important that leadership is. It is the Body of Christ, sustained by the Spirit, journeying toward the Father.

In the first reading today, from the Acts of the Apostles, we see the early Church facing its own moment of tension and transition. There is conflict, misunderstanding, the need for new forms of leadership. And what do they do? They do not panic. They listen, they discern, they appoint, they pray. The Church grows not by avoiding difficulty, but by responding to it with faith.

That is our call now:  to support our newly ordained priests not simply with admiration, but with prayer and encouragement, knowing the demands and the beauty of the life they have embraced; to give thanks for the ministry of our bishop, even as we prepare to let him go; and to enter this period of transition not with anxiety, but with a renewed act of trust that Christ is indeed the way for our local Church.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” These are not soft words. They are strong words. They ask something of us: a decision to trust that God is at work, even when the path ahead is not fully clear. Indeed, perhaps that is where this Gospel becomes most personal. Because each of us knows moments when something shifts, when a role changes, a relationship alters, a certainty disappears. The temptation is always the same: to let our hearts become troubled, to cling tightly, or to withdraw.

But the invitation is also always the same: to trust, to keep walking, to remain in Christ. For in the end, our future, and indeed the future of the Church, does not depend on our ability to control what lies ahead. It depends on our willingness to follow the one who says, quietly but firmly: “I am the way.”