“Ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? I remember understanding this verse as though God is like a genie in a bottle and prayer is like a delivery service. But when I encountered true hardship, this interpretation was tested. I was seeking, but I couldn’t find what I wanted. My request seemed to go unanswered. I was asking, but my hands were empty. I couldn’t reconcile this. Did this mean God wasn’t telling me the truth? Trusting that couldn’t be the case, I pressed in a little harder.

Are you a Martha or a Mary? How many times have we been presented with that question when we hear today’s Gospel reading? At first ask, similar to many people, I would answer that I’m easily a Martha. I’m a perfectionist in many areas of my life, especially when it comes to my work or when I host dinner for friends and family. In those moments, I put a lot of pressure on myself to be the best I can be, to do the job well, and demonstrate the utmost hospitality. But as with Martha, too much focus on being “perfect” can cause worry and anxiety. But this year, hearing the story again, I realized something: There are times when I’m able to put those worries and anxieties aside and sit at the feet of Jesus just like Mary did, and I want to make that happen more often.

Do you ever feel as though the concept of God’s plan for your life feels too distant and abstract to perceive? If you raised your hand, just know I’m raising mine, too. The life of a Christian striving for virtue and closeness with our creator is not always simple! But Moses’ words to the Israelites in today’s first reading pierce my heart, even centuries after he spoke them: “For this command that I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you.” Moses is talking to the Israelites about God's instructions that will lead them to the Promised Land, but it’s a relevant reminder for us, too.

Our calling as disciples of Christ is to evangelize. To be honest, it’s something many of us aren’t entirely comfortable with. Anyone who has ever felt ill-equipped to share the faith with family or friends should be reassured by today’s Gospel. Jesus’ early followers probably felt unprepared to share the news that the kingdom of God was at hand – and they received their marching orders from Jesus himself! When Jesus sent the seventy-two out to proclaim his coming, he knew they would feel insecure.

Too often, we conceive of our earthly pilgrimage as a convoluted maze we must travel by ourselves. Consequently, many of us either ignore the question altogether or become overwhelmed by how ill-equipped we are for the task. But in today’s Gospel, Jesus indicates that confusion was never part of his plan. Responding to Peter’s profession of faith, Jesus says, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.” From the mouth of Eternal Wisdom comes words which establish a Church on Peter’s God-given faith. Already a leader among the disciples, Peter now receives his vocation to be the foundation of unity among the Apostles.

Today's feast is set apart to reverence the gift of Jesus in the Eucharist. In our limited human capacity, this concept can feel abstract, and we may struggle to understand it. In these moments, I find that pondering the person of Jesus Christ in the Gospels illuminates my mind and heart. Hearing the familiar story of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes in today's Gospel, I'm particularly struck by the first line of the passage: "Jesus spoke to the crowds about the kingdom of God, and he healed those who needed to be cured."

Between two people who love each other, speech often gives way to silence. But first, in order to nourish love, there must be a mutual exchange of words. Persons in love wish to share their most intimate secrets so that they might know and be known. In an act deserving of our endless wonder, God disclosed his most intimate secret to us: He is a communion of Persons — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — who relate to each other in an eternal exchange of love. St. Thomas Aquinas insisted that the Trinity is not a reality we could have figured out on our own (in contrast to, for example, God’s existence — which we can know simply by examining creation).

In today’s first reading, we join the Apostles in the Upper Room. These individuals had accompanied Jesus to his death and been witnesses to his resurrection and ascension. Can you imagine the throes of emotion accompanying each experience? Now, they gather together, perhaps discussing what to do next. They wonder where they should go, and who they should listen to, since Jesus was no longer there: “And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind.”

Every day the world urges us to place our trust in countless things: money, brands, self-improvement methods — all with instant results! As Christians, however, we know that only God’s promises are worth betting everything on, and they are not fulfilled on our self-determined timelines. Today’s readings portray Jesus, the wounds of his crucifixion still visible, accompanying his followers for 40 days after his resurrection.

A quip on a church marquee has stuck with me for years: If you feel distant from God, guess who moved? In last Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus told his disciples that he would be with them “only a little while longer.” Of course, we know the full story: Jesus did not abandon his followers. Today we hear of his parting gift to them and to us. Although Jesus would soon return to the Father, he was sending someone to minister to the disciples and to encourage them in their mission: “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.”

Today’s Gospel occurs shortly before Jesus gives his Last Supper Discourses in the Gospel of John. Judas has betrayed Jesus, and now the Lord speaks to his inner circle for one of the last times before his arrest. “I will be with you only a little while longer,” he says. At these words, I imagine a hush falling over the group. Rattled by Judas’ strange actions and alarmed by the Lord announcing his impending departure, the disciples' eyes must have darted about as they held their breath, awaiting Jesus’ words. “I give you a new commandment,” he says. “Love one another.

“My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” The spiritual riches contained in this line alone are enough to sustain us for a lifetime. First, we rejoice that Jesus, the Good Shepherd, calls us his own. We belong to him who, like the shepherds of bygone days, protects his sheep – capable of little in the way of self-defense – even at the cost of his own life. Also, among the distinctive marks of Jesus’ sheep are that they hear his voice and follow him.

Underlying Peter’s simple statement in today’s Gospel, “I am going fishing,” is an ocean of sadness. This leader of the Apostles was once so eager and self-assured that he declared to Jesus, “Even though I should have to die with you, I will not deny you.” (Mt 26:35) But we know the story: At the decisive moment, Peter yielded under pressure and three times denied that he even knew Jesus.