Many Preachers, Few Servants

 Readings 042026 

This weekend my wife and I were talking—
just the two of us—
about ministry…
about the way I pour myself out.

She told me she was proud of me.
But then she said something gentle,
something true:
“Sometimes you give too much of yourself,
and you don’t keep enough for yourself.”

And I felt that.
Because I see so much need.
So much sorrow.
So much pain.
Too few priests,
too few ministers,
too few hands to lift people toward Jesus.

Acts tells us Stephen was filled with grace and power—
one man
in a world of need—
and still he served.
He spoke with the Spirit.
His face shone like an angel
because he belonged to God.

And in the Gospel,
the crowd chases Jesus across the sea
looking for more bread.
But Jesus says,
“Don’t work for food that perishes.
Work for the food that endures.”

"This is the work of God, 

       that you believe in the one he sent."

There are many preachers,
but not enough servants.
Many voices,
but not enough hearts willing to break open.

So today I pray
to serve with wisdom,
to speak with the Spirit,
and to rest when God asks me to rest—
so the little I give
can become the food that endures.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, 

Teach me to serve with a steady heart.
Let my giving flow from Your strength, not mine.
Hold me when I grow tired from the needs around me.
Fill me with the Spirit.
Make me a servant.
Help me rest when You whisper “enough for today.”
And let all I offer become food that endures.

Amen

On the Road With Christ

Readings 041926  

Blessed be God. Praise be to Jesus Christ forever and ever. Amen.
Come, Holy Spirit. Fill us with joy. Set our hearts ablaze with Your presence.

I’ve got a GPS on my phone.
I type in where I want to go,
and it maps out the best direction.
When I traveled for work, I depended on that little voice—
warning me when I was speeding,
when something was in my path,
when danger was ahead.
It kept me from getting lost.
It showed me the way.

Lately, I’ve been laughing at myself.
I connected that app to my new truck,
and now—everywhere I drive around Monroe—
I hear the same message:
“Approaching a railroad crossing ahead.”
No hazards. No police.
Just railroad crossings… again and again.

But as I prayed with today’s Scriptures,
that little voice echoed in my heart.
Because the Psalm says,
“Lord, You will show us the path of life.”
God’s law isn’t a burden—
it’s a light for our steps.

We all need guidance.
We all need Someone to warn us
when we’re drifting,
when we’re going too fast,
when something is blocking the road.

The disciples on the road to Emmaus
were walking with their own warning lights flashing—
grief, confusion, disappointment, fear.
They thought the story was over.
And then Jesus comes alongside them—
quietly, gently, patiently—
even when they don’t recognize Him.

He opens the Scriptures.
He opens their hearts.
And they say,
“Were not our hearts burning within us?”

That’s the moment—
the burning, the recognition—
that the One who died for us
is alive and walking beside us.

And He still does it.
Every Mass.
Every time the Word is proclaimed.
Every time the Bread is broken.
Christ is truly, really, substantially present—
the living God placed in our hands.

He shows us the path of life.
He slows us down when we’re speeding past grace.
He stands in our way when sin is about to derail us.
He puts Himself right in our path
so we cannot miss Him.

So maybe that little warning in my truck
isn’t so silly after all.
Maybe it’s God whispering:
“Crossing ahead.
Pay attention.
Grace is coming.
I am here.”

Friends, be good. Be holy.
On the roads you travel,
preach the Good News of Jesus Christ
in the way you live, forgive, and love.

Praise be to Jesus Christ forever and ever. Amen.

Prayer

 Lord Jesus, walk with me on every road I travel.
Open my eyes when Your presence feels hidden.
Steady my heart when fear and confusion rise.
Let Your Word burn within me like holy fire.
Guide my steps when the path grows uncertain.
Feed me with Your Body, the Bread of Life.
Keep me close until I recognize You in all things.

Amen