Tuesday of the Third Week of Easter

1. Lectio

“What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you?
What can you do?”

The crowd asks a perfectly reasonable question—
which is precisely the problem.

They ask for a what—a sign, a substance, a spectacle.
But Christ responds with a Who:

“I am the bread of life.”

The question is not answered—it is transformed.

2. Meditatio

I find myself quite at home among the crowd.

“What can you do?”
“What will I get?”
“What difference does it make?”

These are the questions that come most naturally to me—
and therefore, most dangerously.

I listened recently to a reflection that began with Scripture—solid, substantial, measurable things. Lists of verses, references, teachings… all very proper whats.

And then, quite suddenly, the speaker turned the entire thing inside out:

“Who are you working for?”

And I was caught.

Because I had been asking all the right questions—
but of the wrong kind.

I have worked, prayed, even served…
but often with a subtle expectation of return.

A quiet ledger hidden in the soul.

What have I done?
What have I earned?
What is owed?

And when the answers feel insufficient,
I grow restless—like the crowd demanding another sign.

Even my piety can become a performance.
Even my service can become a possession.

And then comes that uncomfortable warning—
that clericalism is not confined to collars,
but can creep into any heart that begins to think:

“This is my role.
My work.
My importance.”

And so I become one of the crowd, not because I lack faith,
but because I have made faith about myself.

I ask

“What?”

—when I should be asking

“Who?”

3. Oratio

4. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)

There is an old and rather delightful conflict between a saint and a king—
St. Anselm of Canterbury and the King of England.

The king, like many powerful men, asked a series of very practical questions:

“What authority do you have?”
“What rights belong to me?”
“What must you yield?”

They were all perfectly sensible whats.

But Anselm, in his quiet stubbornness, refused to play the game.

For he was not dealing in whats,
but in Whos.

He answered not to the king’s demands,
but to God’s call.

And so he suffered exile, conflict, misunderstanding—
all because he would not reduce the Church to a set of negotiable whats.

Chesterton would no doubt delight in this:
a man who lost everything in order to keep the one thing necessary.

For the great heresy is not always to deny God,
but to reduce Him.

To turn Him from a Who into a what—
a function, a benefit, a tool.

But God is not useful.

He is.

And that is far more demanding.

5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality

…human beings frequently seem “to see no other meaning in their natural environment than what serves for immediate use and consumption”.[4]

Laudato si’ §5

Laudato si’ reminds me that life is not a collection of resources to be used, but relationships to be honored.

Action:

Today, I will intentionally shift one moment of service—from task to relationship. Instead of asking “What needs to be done?” I will ask “Who is before me?”

For Synodality is not organizing whats—
it is encountering Whos.

6. Song Pairing 🎵

🎶 “What Do You Mean” by Justin Bieber🎵

7. Movie Pairing 🎬

🎬Movie: “What Ever Happened to Baby Jane” (1962)

8. Poetic Verse

I asked for signs, for bread, for proof,
for something I could see—
yet missed the quiet, living truth
who stood in front of me.

I counted works and weighed my worth,
and built my careful claim—
until a voice beyond my sums
called me not by deed, but name.

So let me lose the lesser questions
that bind my restless thought—
and find my rest not in the “what,”
but in the One I sought.