My dear children in Christ, Praised be Jesus Christ, now and forever. And a most blessed Easter to you.

Christ is risen – Alleluia! These words are not just for yesterday, for Easter Sunday, but for every day of our lives. We don’t put away the Alleluia when the lilies fade or when the eggs are gone. No, the Church in her wisdom gives us fifty days – fifty days of Easter! Why? Because this mystery of the Resurrection is not something we move past. It is the cornerstone of our hope, the fire beneath our faith, and the source of our courage.

But I want to speak to you today not just of joy, but of a reality that touches many of us deeply: the presence of betrayal. The sting of falsehood. The sorrow that comes when even within the walls of the Church, there are those who lead others astray.

And yet, even this, my dear flock – even this is not new. It is not beyond the reach of Easter.

So today, I want to speak to you about how we go forward, as faithful Catholics, still in Easter, knowing full well that there are betrayers in our midst. I want to offer you not just warnings, but hope. And I want to introduce a word that will carry us through this episode – a word that speaks of both conflict and opportunity: intersections.

Let us begin where we are – Easter Monday. Christ is risen. But what did the disciples feel on that first Monday after the Resurrection?

They were not throwing parties. They were not yet bold preachers. Many were still confused. Still frightened. Some were hiding behind locked doors. And others were walking along the road to Emmaus, hearts heavy with dashed hopes – until the Lord revealed Himself.

This is comforting, isn’t it? Because Easter joy is real, but it often dawns slowly. It doesn’t always feel like trumpets and sunshine. Sometimes, it feels like a flicker of hope that grows gradually – like the sun rising behind dark clouds.

And so we go forward in Easter, not pretending all is well in the world or the Church, but knowing that Christ has conquered death, and that is the unshakable truth. It is the foundation we build upon, especially when everything else is shaking.

But now, let us speak plainly. There are betrayers in the Church today. Men who wear the vestments, who speak in pious tones, who stand in places of authority – and yet deny the truth.

Some deny the teachings of Christ. Others remain silent in the face of evil. Still others actively undermine the moral law, dismissing doctrine as if it were a passing opinion. They twist mercy into license. They offer stones instead of bread.

This is not merely unfortunate. It is betrayal.

And we have seen it before. Judas Iscariot was chosen by Christ Himself. He walked with the Lord, heard His teachings, witnessed His miracles – and yet, he sold Him for silver. He betrayed Him with a kiss.

That same betrayal continues today. But listen carefully: Judas did not destroy the Church. His betrayal, though tragic, was not the end of the story.

Christ allowed the betrayal. He entered into it, and He triumphed through it.

So let us not be naïve – but let us not despair. When we see corruption, silence, or scandal, we must grieve, yes – but we must also remember: the Church is Christ’s, and He will not abandon her.

And so I say to you: Do not let betrayal steal your faith. Do not let false shepherds steal your trust in the Good Shepherd. You are His sheep, and He knows you. Stay close to Him.

Let’s now turn to this word: intersections.

An intersection is a place of decision. It’s where two roads meet, and you must choose your path. Spiritually speaking, intersections are moments of grace – or of failure. They are where your fidelity is tested.

The Apostles faced such intersections. After the Crucifixion, Peter could have remained broken by his denial. But he chose repentance, and later – when filled with the Holy Ghost – he chose boldness.

Mary Magdalene faced an intersection when she clung to the Risen Christ in the garden, and He said, “Do not cling to me, but go to my brethren.” She could have chosen comfort. Instead, she became the Apostle to the Apostles.

You, too, face intersections today. Perhaps in your family – where you must choose whether to stand for truth, even if it means tension. Perhaps in your parish – where compromise or silence is more common than faithfulness. Perhaps even within your own heart – where discouragement creeps in, and you must choose between bitterness and trust.

And here is the secret: at every intersection, Christ is present.

He meets you at the crossroad. He offers grace. He invites courage. He walks with you.

But He does not force the choice. That is yours.

So I ask you, as a shepherd who loves you: What will you choose at your intersection?

Let me give you now, very practically, a few ways to remain faithful:

First, stay rooted in prayer. Make time every day to speak with God and to listen. Pray the Rosary – Our Lady will never abandon you.

Second, read Scripture, especially the Gospels and the Psalms. Let the Word of God dwell richly in your heart.

Third, receive the Sacraments frequently. Go to Confession. Receive Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist with devotion and love. These are lifelines.

Fourth, guard your mind. Do not feed yourself with scandal and gossip. Yes, be informed, but do not dwell in bitterness. That is poison to the soul.

Fifth, choose your companions well. Surround yourself with others who want to be saints. Encourage one another. Speak of the good things God is doing.

Sixth, live your faith actively. Serve your family. Be generous to the poor. Defend the truth. Keep the traditions of the Church – not for nostalgia, but for holiness.

And finally, entrust yourself to Our Lady. She stood at the foot of the Cross. She stood through betrayal, confusion, and grief. She understands. She will help you.

My dear children,

Christ is risen. Alleluia.

Let us say it with courage, even when it seems the world – and even parts of the Church – have forgotten it. Let us say it as people who know what it means to suffer, but who cling to hope.

There are betrayers in the Church. There always have been. But they are not the victors. Christ is. His Resurrection is real. His promises are true. His grace is enough.

You may stand today at an intersection. Perhaps one that feels dark and lonely. But you are not alone.

Choose faith. Choose truth. Choose the narrow road. And go forward – still singing Alleluia.

Let me leave you with my blessing:

May the Lord bless you and keep you. May His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. May He lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace. And may Almighty God bless you, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Bishop Joseph E. Strickland

Bishop Emeritus