This week, as we prepare for this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus begins to reveal what we call the “Bread of Life” discourse, which serves as a precursor to the beautiful gift of the Eucharist. The crowds, after receiving their “fill” from the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, sought Jesus following their desire for more.

When Jesus multiplies, He does not multiply so that there is just enough for each person to be satisfied. He gives an abundance of loaves and fish to the crowd. They had twelve baskets of leftovers! I like to use the word overabundance just to help me comprehend how generously God gives to us. He does not just satisfy us but gives until we are overflowing.

It was reading the RSV-CE version of this Sunday’s Gospel that shook me awake. In that translation, Jesus says, “Come away by yourselves to a lonely place, and rest a while” (my emphasis added). I realized two things: I had not come to this place by myself. I was interiorly holding on to all the people and places and worries and connections that I had left behind in Baton Rouge... and the word “lonely” was, to be honest, scary.

Imagine leaving your house with nothing in your hands. Yes, you wouldn’t have the bags and burdens you usually carry to weigh you down, but you also would have no comforts or protection. Having nothing forces one to become totally dependent on the Lord to get him or her where he or she needs to go, be fed and find shelter. It’s easy to imagine this and resort back to a life of physical, emotional and spiritual burden. You could tell yourself, “At least these burdens protect my pride…” but at what cost? Hindering your freedom and the ability to radically trust?

“Where did this person get all of this?” Whether in school, in the Boy Scouts, my time as an engineer, throughout the seminary, and now in parish life, this question is one I think from time to time. This thought usually occurs at moments when I am in true awe at what I have just heard and encountered; however, there are also moments when this question arises because I have judged a person too quickly and out of pride. It is in these latter moments that I know I am being presented with a path to choose: to let pride take over and fail to recognize what I have encountered or truly humble myself and embrace the moment by listening and learning.

Get real with yourself, you are in need of healing because of your sins. Faith in Jesus’ power is a key aspect of healing; the more we trust in Him, the more He is able to work in us. Falling on your knees and touching Jesus is the most beautiful part. We fall on our knees in the sacrament of Reconciliation, which is literally a sacrament of healing, and we touch Jesus’ body physically when we receive Him in the Eucharist. We have the great privilege of being a part of the Church who “believes in the life-giving presence of Christ, the physician of souls and bodies. This presence is particularly active through the sacraments, and in an altogether special way through the Eucharist, the bread that gives eternal life” (CCC, 1509). Friends, no one else can heal you but Jesus. Run to Him in your desperation, with faith and hope, and He will heal you.

Jesus commands the sea and sky to calm as He is awoken by His disciples, but just as this storm takes many forms in the shapes of busyness and anxiety, so too does the stillness and peace the Lord speaks over the restless waves. Jesus whispers “Quiet, be still,” over our hearts.

Would it make sense for a farmer to go through all the trouble of scattering the seed, tilling the soil and providing the water for a crop that he did not intend to enjoy in its fullness? Of course that would not be the case! My challenge for you, no matter how difficult this may sound, is to trust in the transformation. God offers this transformation to us as long as we remain connected to the “vine.” This is how we receive His nutrients. Make no mistake, most of the time this is not a pretty process, but it is a necessary process in order for us to

In the Eucharist, Jesus comes to live in us, so that we may live in Him. We often fail to recognize His true presence, or even doubt His presence at all. Even the two men, walking along the road to Emmaus who encounter the resurrected Jesus, fail to recognize Him. It’s not until He takes bread, blesses it and breaks it, that their eyes are opened. It is here in the Gospel passage that Jesus disappears, or does He? The short answer - No, He remains in the Eucharist! This is how He continues to come to us today.

Jesus didn’t weed out the doubting disciples or lecture them. Like the disciples, our irresolute heart is no surprise to Christ. His response is to remind us of the fullness we’re made for; and as Jesus has received, he now gives the disciples. He gives them (and us) His shared thirst for all nations. He gives us the task of participating in the work of salvation - to win souls over through the magnetic pull of Trinitarian love.

I firmly believe that each of us, as God’s beloved, have a place in our hearts where we can return to the moments that brought us to where we are today. For me it resembles an art gallery, but who knows what it looks like for you. No matter how it is expressed, these sacred spaces in our hearts provide us with comfort and peace, just like the upper room provided comfort and peace to the apostles. In reading this upcoming Sunday’s readings, God makes it abundantly clear that the things that we hold dear to in the upper room are also the things we are called to share with others in the bustling streets of Jerusalem.

We already can evangelize just through our presence. Going out into the public and being a witness is already a good way to evangelize. The ministry of presence is so much more impactful than most people think. People have to know that we are Catholic by the way that we interact with others. Another great way is being prepared to defend our faith. The world has misconceptions about our Catholic faith. The apostles had to do this all time as they went and evangelized to the Gentiles. So too are we called to do so.

For years I believed that God had to have all of these impressive titles and roles to make an impact on my life, but all He truly wants to be is a friend that can walk with me in every trial and triumph. Even greater, He wants me to be a friend to Him, willing to spend time with Him in prayer each day and love without conditions.

"Remain in me, as I remain in you." It only takes eight words for Jesus to make it abundantly clear that His love is an unwavering one. He is willing to abide with us in our trials, stay vigilant when we grow weary, protect us from any harm that could come our way and encourage us to continue growing, even when it’s difficult. The question we are then faced with asking ourselves is if we are committed to giving Christ the same kind of love - a love that remains.

This Easter Season, be encouraged. The Good Shepherd, who died for you in order to save you, is now risen and alive! He wants to shepherd you, love you and bless you. When we are baptized, we die with Christ, so one day we can rise with Him (Roman 6:4). Hold out to the end, and persevere. The Good Shepherd loves you so dearly, and wants you to live your life, fully alive and full of true love.

The Lord is not phased by the doors to our heart, but he cannot force us to open them either. He chooses to veil himself so He can still remain with us until we ourselves acknowledge that He and He alone is our hearts deepest desire. All the while, He is ceaselessly writing us subtle love letters through all that surrounds us to show us that His love for us is always and limitless. From the gifts and workings of others, to the vast beauty of creation, in the love shown to us by those entrusted into our care, and last but not least the Eucharist, the source and summit; the Lord’s veiled activities are all beautiful ways in which He continuously passes through that door into our midst and whispers silently to us “Peace be with you.”

No longer will I avoid seeking God’s mercy for myself because I think it belongs to everyone else. His mercy is poured out over me. It will never be a chore for Him to give it to me as it is truly a joy for Him to invite me to partake in His mercy and receive His peace.

Hope is what anchors us to Christ when we don’t see the end result. Hope is what keeps us afloat when we feel like we’re drowning amidst the waves of confusion and despair. Hope is ultimately the pinnacle of who we are as Christians.

I cannot tell you how many times I question the Lord when that internal struggle to trust or fear presents itself. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve allowed fear to rule my decisions instead of freedom. I can tell you that the moments where I chose trust over fear are the moments that have most defined the course of my life for the better. I can’t see the future, and I don’t know what awaits me even in the next breath, but I am called at each and every moment to trust.

“Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be.” If the Bible assures us of anything, it is that the path to follow Christ isn’t an easy one. It requires sacrifice, surrender and a willingness to change. To follow Christ is to join Him on the path. To remain with Him is to die with Him.