I’ve always found it amazing that Jesus never says to his disciples the straightforward and bumper stickery words “I love you” or “I will always love you” (a la Dolly Parton’s song). Why doesn’t Jesus say, “I love you”? >Well, actually he does, but in particular ways.

A few years back, I felt as if I couldn’t hear God’s voice the way I used to. The words in the Bible seemed like cold ink on a page. Prayer felt like sitting anxiously in a lonely room. I was worried — how could I, a priest, preach or help others if I couldn’t hear God’s voice? It went on for months.

I eat breakfast. If I don’t have something substantial, I’m fading by mid-morning. Breakfast is my key meal because it sets up my physical well-being for the rest of the day. Spiritually speaking, we need sustenance to get us going. This is true for the Apostles in this Sunday’s remarkable Gospel reading. The risen Jesus makes his third appearance to them in the early morning light and calls, “Come, have breakfast” (John 21:12).

It’s common for Catholics to hear the question, “Why do I have to go to a priest to have my sins forgiven?”

I’ve never liked that question because not only is it clunky (confession is the ordinary way for the pardoning of serious sins, not lesser ones). But it misses the larger context: the wonderful origins of the sacrament itself. And this context is deeply Jewish.

Dear Beloved Parishioners,

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen!” – Luke 24:5-6

As we celebrate Easter—the heart of our Christian faith—we are reminded not only of a historical event, but of a profound psychological and spiritual truth: hope is stronger than despair, love is stronger than death, and healing is always possible.

“As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road.” (Luke 19:36)

Consider how useless it is to spread your clothes on the ground for a donkey to walk on. The clothes get smeared with hooves, and who knows the grimy places where they’ve been? The animal may leave some unsavory presents on them. They may get stolen by a thief looking to make a buck.

“The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle” (John 8:3). Why do they make her stand in the middle? Why not expose her on the periphery? The reason is something that affects us practically every day.