Catholicism

Jesus Christ: The Bread That Satisfies

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Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

Reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 14:13-21

Dear Friends in Christ,

There once was a man named Anthony who seemed to have everything. His career was thriving, his home was beautiful, and his table was always full of the finest foods. Yet, despite these earthly comforts, Anthony often felt a strange emptiness gnawing at his soul. He filled his days with meetings and his nights with entertainment, but none of it brought him peace. One evening, as he walked home, he passed a homeless woman shivering on a bench. On a sudden impulse, he stopped, bought her dinner, and sat beside her as she ate. As they talked, Anthony listened more than he spoke. She told him about her hopes, her faith, and her gratitude for small kindnesses.

In that moment, Anthony felt something stir within—a spark, a warmth. He realized that all his worldly bread had left him hungry, but through this simple act of charity, he tasted a different kind of bread: the Bread of Life, offered through Christ, that brings light and love into the heart. That night, Anthony went home changed. The emptiness had faded, replaced by a quiet joy that seemed to overflow. He had found, at last, a food that satisfied.

From then on, Anthony sought out ways to help others, discovering that each small act of kindness left him more fulfilled than any luxury he had known. Sharing Christ’s love and grace with his neighbors, he finally understood what it meant to be truly satisfied.

God Provides

Today’s Gospel shows us a crowd hungry for more than food. When Jesus hears of John the Baptist’s death, He seeks a deserted place, perhaps to mourn, to pray, to grieve in silence. But God’s grace always overflows. The crowds follow, longing for something deeper than what the world can provide. Moved with compassion, Jesus heals their sick. As day fades, the disciples worry about bread. Yet, Jesus looks not at what is lacking, but at what God can do with even the smallest gift offered in faith.

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The Hidden Treasure: Finding Jesus in the Ordinary and Investing Our Lives in His Love

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Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

Reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 13:44-52

Dear Friends in Christ,

There’s a man on Main Street, the kind we all know — suit, tie, briefcase, stuck in the morning rush. Every day, he passes the same coffee shop and, sitting on the sidewalk outside, an older woman bundled in layers, her hair tangled, hands stained with city grime. She’s there in every season, always looking a bit invisible to the world. Most people cross to the other side, but one chilly morning, something stirs in the man’s heart. He stops. He asks if she’d like a coffee and a donut. She smiles, surprised, and accepts. They sit together, and he listens as she speaks about her life, her struggles, but mostly about her deep love for God and for people — even those who walk right past her. She quotes the Gospels, talks about forgiveness, and shares stories of kindness she’s both received and given.

The man, who hasn’t been to church in years, feels something awaken in him, something he thought he’d lost. In the weeks that follow, he keeps coming back. The old woman becomes his friend, his teacher. Her words echo in his mind: “You find Jesus in the ones you least expect.” Moved and changed, the man returns to church, to prayer, and to the Lord who had been waiting for him all along.

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Sharing a Feast Day with Saint Martha: Action, Anxiety, and the Better Part

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Editor’s note: Article originally published on July 29, 2025.

Every year, July 29th rolls around and I get to celebrate two things: my birthday and the feast day of one of the most relatable saints in all of Scripture—Saint Martha of Bethany.

Over the years, I’ve come to see Martha not just as a biblical figure who shares my birthday, but as a spiritual companion who understands my temperament, my wiring, and even my weaknesses. She’s a person of action, but also anxious. A hostess, a worrier, a doer, a disciple. And in many ways, she’s me.

Constant Motion and the Martha Mindset

Diagnosed with ADHD as a kid, I’ve always been moving. Fidgeting, bouncing, thinking ahead to the next thing. Even now, I find it hard to sit still. My kids inherited this gift too. Trying to get them to sit through an entire meal is like herding caffeinated squirrels.

So when I read the story of Martha bustling about the house while Mary just sits at Jesus’ feet, I feel seen. Martha isn’t lazy. She’s not uninterested in Jesus. She’s working, preparing, and hosting. She wants everything to be just right.

But Jesus gently interrupts her whirlwind:

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part” (Luke 10:41–42).

It’s not a harsh correction. It’s a loving invitation to pause. To recognize that Jesus isn’t asking for a five-star meal. He’s asking for you. Not your perfectly arranged table, but your heart.

Prayer Isn’t a Checklist

If I’m honest, I still fall into the same trap Martha did. I love the order of devotions, the structure of routines, and the sense of checking off boxes. But I’ve learned, again and again, that when I turn prayer into performance, I risk missing the Person.

Saint Martha reminds me to prepare the home and the heart. But her sister Mary reminds me how to receive. Both are necessary. As Pope Francis put it in a 2021 homily:

“These are not two attitudes opposed to one another… but are two essential aspects in our Christian life… works of service and charity are never detached from the principle of all our action: that is, listening to the Word of the Lord.”

Martha’s mistake wasn’t serving—it was forgetting to anchor her service in love. And Jesus didn’t scold her because she worked too hard. He lovingly redirected her toward the One Thing that truly matters: Himself.

The Tension Between Trust and Doubt

One of my favorite Martha moments happens in John 11, after her brother Lazarus dies. When Jesus finally arrives, she runs to meet Him and says something I’ve whispered in prayer more times than I can count:

“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21).

It’s honest and raw. The voice of someone who believes but still struggles. Been there? Me too.

But what follows is incredible. Martha, the same woman who once fretted over dinner, proclaims one of the most powerful confessions of faith in the Gospels:

“But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you… I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God” (John 11:22, 27).

Her faith grew in the soil of sorrow. Doubt didn’t disqualify her. It prepared her for deeper trust. That encourages me more than I can say.

Holy Order vs. Hollow Ritual

Order is good. But order without encounter becomes empty. I’ve had moments in my spiritual life where I went through the motions—saying the prayers, doing the devotions, hitting the marks—while my heart remained untouched.

Martha reminds me that external service should flow from internal receptivity. Our rituals are meant to lead to relationships. Our prayers aren’t performance; they’re presence.

Mary of Bethany shows us what it looks like to sit, to be still, and to listen. To place ourselves at the feet of Jesus. I’ve found it helpful to reread Luke 10 as a form of prayer. First imagine yourself as Martha, then as Mary. Where are you distracted? Where are you receptive?

Pope Francis said it beautifully:

“When ecclesial service is attentive only to doing… we forget the centrality of Christ. When time is not set aside for dialogue with Him in prayer, we risk serving ourselves and not God.”

That one hits close to home. I want to serve, but I want my service to be rooted in prayer. In presence, not performance.

From Scrubbing Floors to Scrubbing Souls

Martha is the patron saint of cooks, cleaners, and homemakers. I may not be much of a cook, but I can scrub a sink like a champ. My OCD tends to show up in my need for control and cleanliness, but even that God has used.

I worked fast food through high school and college. Helped my mom with her cleaning business. At the time, it all felt mundane. But looking back, I can see how God was quietly forming a friendship between me and this New Testament saint.

Martha teaches me that holiness isn’t just found in the chapel—it’s found in the kitchen. It’s found in laundry rooms and drive-thrus and carpool lines. God sanctifies the ordinary, if we let Him.

Image: Jesus, Lazarus, Martha and Mary | St. Botolph without Aldersgate

Martha and Mary, Ora et Labora

Saint Benedict’s motto for monastic life was ora et labora—pray and work. Not pray then work. Not work instead of prayer. But a life that is both active and contemplative. That’s the balance I want to seek. And that’s the balance Martha eventually found.

She reminds me that it’s okay to be the one who wants to set the table. Just don’t forget to sit down and eat with the Guest of Honor.

So today, as I celebrate another year of life, I’ll also celebrate a friend in heaven who gets it. Who knew anxiety, doubt, distraction—and still became a beloved disciple of Christ.

Happy Feast Day, Saint Martha. Teach me to love Jesus in the serving and the stillness.

Related Links 

Saint Martha- Disciple of Our Lord 

Martha, Mary, and Lazarus: Friends of Jesus

Martha, Mary, and the Heart of Discipleship: Putting God First

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The Domestic Church at Bedtime: Prayer Meets Real Life

/ chicoinematt

There’s something about the rhythm of a day that either drags us down or draws us closer to heaven.

Morning rush, midday crash, evening blur, bedtime chaos… then late-night scrolling. Then we wake up and do it all again.

But what if our messy, snack-filled, Lego-strewn, kid-powered day could become prayer?

That’s the gift of the Liturgy of the Hours—also called the Divine Office. It’s the Church’s invitation to sanctify time. Not just Sundays. Not just in silence. All of it.

So this week, we decided to dive in as a family and pray Night Prayer. Just one night. That was the goal.

We made it four days in a row.

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From Weeds to Wheat: The Transforming Mercy of God

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Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck

A reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 13:24-30

Dear Friends in Christ,

There was once a boy, not much older than fourteen, who wandered the dusty back roads near a small farming town at the turn of the century. He was an orphan, left to fend for himself in a world that hadn’t shown him much kindness. Hungry, alone, and desperate, he became a thief—not by nature, but by necessity. He learned to move in the shadows, taking just enough to survive. One night, while slipping into a barn to steal some bread and milk, he startled the farmer’s dog and in his scramble to escape, he tripped and broke his leg. He lay there, helpless, expecting the worst.

But what happened next changed his life. The family who owned the farm—devout Catholics—found him in the morning. Instead of anger or condemnation, they showed him mercy. They tended his wound, gave him food, and offered him a place to stay. They prayed together at meals, went to Mass on Sundays, and worked the fields side by side. Slowly, the boy’s heart softened. He learned about Jesus—a savior who welcomes the lost and heals the broken. He became a son in every way that matters, growing from a frightened orphan into a young man with hope and purpose.

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What St. Kateri Tekakwitha Taught Me About Risking Everything for Christ

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Every year, there are a few saints who surprise me.

Not because I had never heard of them before, but because I finally slowed down enough to really learn their story.

That happened to me this past school year while teaching history to my third-grade class. We were studying the 1600s and the discovery of the New World, and part of that journey included learning about St. Kateri Tekakwitha. I had known she was the first Indigenous North American saint, but reading her story alongside my students gave me a much deeper appreciation for her remarkable witness.

Sometimes teaching is one of the best ways to learn.

Known as the “Lily of the Mohawks,” St. Kateri Tekakwitha was born in 1656 in present-day Upstate New York. She was the daughter of a Mohawk chief and an Algonquin Catholic mother. At just four years old, a smallpox epidemic claimed the lives of her parents and younger brother. Though Kateri survived, the disease left her scarred, partially blind, and orphaned.

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The Forgotten Miracle Worker of the Catholic Church

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“Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:12)

Those words can feel startling, almost too great to be true. For a long time, John 14:12 raises a simple question in the mind: did Jesus mean this as literal reality, or as a symbol? I wrestled with that question before. While researching St. Vincent Ferrer, I found myself returning to John 14:12 with new clarity. What I found in his life helped make Jesus’ promise feel less distant.

The Impact of a Name

For years, St. Vincent Ferrer was mostly a familiar name. My father is named Vincent, so the Dominican preacher naturally came up as one of his patron saints. Still, if we’re honest, “Vincent” often triggers a more common association, St. Vincent de Paul, and the mind doesn’t always go further.

That changed after an unexpected conversation with a Catholic bookstore owner. While helping him with an order for Voyage Comics (another matter entirely), we drifted into saints. At some point he said something that pulled me up short: “St. Vincent Ferrer was one of the greatest miracle workers in Church history.” I was skeptical. Stories like that can grow larger over time, and every generation seems to add to the glow.

But curiosity won out. I began reading, and what I found was enough to force another question: why don’t more Catholics seem to know him today?

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