At the heart of today’s readings is Jesus and the apostles’ unwavering witness to God—not through grand displays of power, but through voluntary obedience. Though often misunderstood as weakness or naïveté, both in the time of Jesus and in our own day, this obedience is a radical one rooted in love, humility, and deep faith in God’s providence. Jesus spoke and showed the truth of God from his intimate knowledge of Him, yet many did not believe him, just as many today struggle to believe in God who walks among us, who heals through touch, who suffers, and who dies. Perhaps, the expectation of a magical, otherworldly messiah—one descending from the clouds with instant solutions—made it hard for people then and to this day to accept Jesus, who came from a humble background, lived a very human life, and died a very human death. It is precisely in this humanity that God’s plan unfolds. The post-resurrection perspective makes this even more profound as we see that Jesus’ earthly life was not a detour from divinity, but the very path through which God revealed himself as deeply present, approachable, and trustworthy. Jesus’ voluntary obedience—even unto death—is not weakness but the clearest sign of divine love.

While the Psalmist reminds us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; and those who are crushed in spirit he saves,” it is this God that Peter and the apostles boldly witness to in the first reading when they declare, “We must obey God rather than men.” It is a powerful testimony of faith in a higher authority, one that calls for loyalty even in the face of persecution. Their witness is not founded on personal gain or fear, but on their personal experience of the risen Christ and the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. They obey, not because they are naive, but because they have tasted the goodness of God and know that His love is more trustworthy than any human promise or power.

Apostles’ testimony, like Jesus’, invites us to a faith that is not based on spectacle but on trust, intimacy, and love; not on a magical myth, but in a God who chose to become real, touchable, and knowable. And in doing so, it reminds us that true power lies in surrender, true strength in obedience, and true salvation in trust. After all, if we cannot trust and obey the God who walked among us—who was born, lived, suffered, and died like and with us, but in sin—what guarantee do we have that we will place our faith in and obey a being who is distant from our reality?

• Am I willing to trust in God who chooses to walk with me in my humanity, or do I still look for signs of divine power that fit my expectations of strength and control?

• In what areas of my life do I resist surrendering to God's will, mistaking obedience for weakness instead of seeing it as an act of radical love and trust?