Monday of the Third Week of Easter (2025)

Today’s Gospel takes place just after the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish. It’s not surprising that the people came looking for Jesus. After all, they had eaten delicious bread and fish — for free.

Who wouldn’t want more of that?

But Jesus looks into their hearts and sees their motivation.

He doesn’t reject them. Instead, He gently invites them to look deeper — not just to seek ordinary bread, but to hunger for the bread that comes from Heaven.

He is speaking, of course, about the Eucharist.

Some of us may know people who, just a few days ago, received the Sacraments of Baptism, Eucharist, and Confirmation at the Easter Vigil. But that wasn’t the end of their journey — it’s only the beginning.

They are now walking through a special season called Mystagogy — a Greek word that means “entering into the mysteries.”

This is a time to reflect more deeply on the Sacraments they have received and to grow in their relationship with Christ.

But Mystagogy is not only for the newly baptized.

It is for all of us. Even if we’ve been Catholics our whole lives, the Church — through the daily readings of this Easter season — invites us to go deeper.

To look again at the treasures we have received: Baptism. Eucharist. Confirmation.

We can grow so used to them that we take them for granted — simply because we’ve always had them.

Mystagogy helps us to grow in virtue, as Christians.

As I mentioned yesterday — to be martyrs — witnesses.

We are here at San Giovanni Rotondo — and it is because of this one man: Father Pio of Pietrelcina.

And he is a saint, but not mainly because of the stigmata, or bilocation (being seen in two places at once), or reading of hearts (especially in confession), or miraculous healings through intercessory prayer.

So what was first?

It is because of the heroic life — profound humility and obedience, chastity, poverty, and charity.

He spent long hours hearing confessions — up to 16 hours a day — guiding thousands in repentance and spiritual renewal.

In that sense, Padre Pio became for others what Mystagogy is meant to be:

A guide into the mystery of God’s grace — a witness who helps others walk the path.

All the saints we’ve met on this pilgrimage have done the same.

They confront us — lovingly — with the question:

How do I live?

What must I let go of?

What sin or attachment is still blocking God’s grace in me?

They become our Mystagogy.

Not to be admired, but to learn from them as well.

Padre Pio was a powerful teacher of love for the Eucharist and of the meaning of this sacrament.

He adored Jesus in the Host for hours each day and would begin preparing for morning Mass as early as four o’clock in the morning.

The celebration of the Eucharist could last several hours — sometimes even four and a half.

When people complained that it took too long, he would respond:

“People would even put a clock on Golgotha.”

Because he knew: in the Eucharist, he was entering the greatest mystery of Jesus Christ.

So let our presence here today not be just about seeing the place where countless miracles happened.

Let it be about encountering a brother — a man who gave his entire life to serve Jesus.

A man who became a saint not through spectacle, but by living a heroic life.