Third Week of Easter 2025

Pont Jacques-Cartier which connects the city of Montreal with the south shore of the St. Lawrence River.

 If we were to jump into our cars and drive to Montreal, in order to enter the city we’d have to pass over a bridge — the Pont Jacques-Cartier. 

That bridge spans the Saint Lawrence River and connects the island city of Montreal with the south shore. It’s a vital link. Without it, getting in and out of the city would be complicated and difficult.

The French word “pont” means “bridge.” And that word got me thinking this week — not just about steel and concrete bridges, but about spiritual ones. 

Because one of the titles we use for the pope is Pontiff, and that word comes from the Latin pontifex, which means bridge builder.

That’s exactly what the pope is: a bridge builder — a man chosen to connect heaven and earth, to unite people of faith across nations, and to hold together the Body of Christ. 

And this week, with the Church still mourning the death of Pope Francis and preparing for the election of a new pontiff, that title feels more meaningful than ever.

In today’s Gospel from John, we go back to the beginning — to the moment when Jesus entrusts Peter with his mission. Three times Jesus asks him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

Three times Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

And three times Jesus responds: “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.”

This is no ordinary conversation. This is the moment when Jesus rebuilds the bridge that Peter had broken. 

Remember — Peter had denied Jesus three times during the Passion. 

Now, by a new charcoal fire, Jesus restores him with three invitations of love and trust.

But more than restoring him, Jesus is sending him. He commissions Peter to be the shepherd of the Church — the visible sign of unity, the one who will lead and strengthen the others. 

We might say this is the moment Peter becomes the first pontiff — the first bridge builder.

That’s what the pope is called to be. And that’s what we pray for in these days leading up to the conclave. 

May the Holy Spirit guide the cardinals as they discern who will build the next bridge — a bridge of truth and mercy, of peace and justice, a bridge strong enough to carry the weight of the world’s hopes.

But we shouldn’t stop there. Because today’s readings remind us that all of us, in our own way, are called to be bridge builders, too.

Peter wasn’t chosen because he was perfect. He was chosen because he was willing to love, to try again, and to follow Jesus no matter what. 

In the Acts of the Apostles, we hear Peter and the others proclaim the Gospel with courage and joy, even after being beaten and ordered to stop. They rejoice, because they know who they belong to. They know what they’ve been called to do.

And you and I have been called, too.

We may not wear white cassocks or live behind Vatican walls, but we are still ambassadors of Christ, commissioned at our baptism to bring others to Him.

We are called to be bridges in our own neighborhoods and families — between generations, between those who have drifted from the Church and the God who loves them, between despair and hope.

To be a bridge is not always easy. Bridges carry weight. They span distance. They sometimes feel walked on. But bridges are also places of connection, healing, and grace.

This Easter season, let’s recommit to being bridge builders — people who make it easier for others to encounter Christ, not harder.

And let us pray for the cardinals as they prepare to elect a new pontiff, that they may choose a man who will continue what Pope Francis embodied so beautifully — a bridge builder who brings the joy of the Gospel to the world.

So the next time you’re crossing the Pont Jacques-Cartier into Montreal, or any bridge at all, take a moment to pray:

Lord, help me to be a bridge, too.
Help me to carry others to You.