When I was a seminarian almost 20 years ago, a bank vice president taught us etiquette classes. She said, “Gentlemen, please make sure your breath isn’t bad. Take some breath mints before you hear confessions, okay?” We nervously laughed because the proximity that makes breath noticeable (whether pleasant or not) can be a bit awkward.

The famous 20th century St. Padre Pio said once that he would wait outside the gates of heaven until the people in his life had entered. I’m not sure that I, or frankly many people I know, would say that and mean it. Yet that is precisely the kind of attitude we see in Jesus as he prays for us in the Gospel today. Having celebrated the Ascension of the Lord just a few days ago, we now hear the Son of God at the Last Supper pray to his Father “that they may be brought to perfection as one” (John 17:23). What does this mean for us?

Jonathan Haidt’s 2024 book entitled “The Anxious Generation” argues that today’s kids are marked by significant increases in anxiety, as the title suggests. Smartphones, social media, economic uncertainty, the chaos of a global pandemic, fear regarding climate change, and the so-called “meaning crisis” all contribute to strikingly high levels of anxiety in young people today. I’m a bit older than this generation, but I feel it, too. The world can be too much to handle.

I’ve always found it amazing that Jesus never says to his disciples the straightforward and bumper stickery words “I love you” or “I will always love you” (a la Dolly Parton’s song). Why doesn’t Jesus say, “I love you”?

Well, actually he does, but in particular ways. He says, “As the Father loves me, so I love you” (John 15:9) thereby rooting his love for us in the space of the Holy Trinity. This week he commands, “Love another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). He presents his love for us as a completed action which continues into the present moment. How has he loved us? By becoming one of us, one with us, and finally giving his life for us in his suffering on the cross. We weren’t there when he did that, but neither were his Apostles (except one). Still, that action is his great “I love you” to us.

A few years back, I felt as if I couldn’t hear God’s voice the way I used to. The words in the Bible seemed like cold ink on a page. Prayer felt like sitting anxiously in a lonely room. I was worried — how could I, a priest, preach or help others if I couldn’t hear God’s voice? It went on for months.

I eat breakfast. If I don’t have something substantial, I’m fading by midmorning. Breakfast is my key meal because it sets up my physical wellbeing for the rest of the day.

Spiritually speaking, we need sustenance to get us going. This is true for the Apostles in this Sunday’s remarkable Gospel reading. The risen Jesus makes his third appearance to them in the early morning light and calls, “Come, have breakfast” (John 21:12). The exhausted and cold fishermen sit, and he feeds them bread and fish as the dawn breaks.