Have you ever wanted to be part of something bigger? Even the most independent among us likes to make changes and have an impact on others. In this Sunday's Gospel reading, Jesus demonstrates one of his most iconic miracles - the multiplication of the loaves. It is a sign of the institution of the Eucharist, when we are fed not by bread but by the Body of Christ.

"Now what?" It's a difficult thing to hear, isn't it? The train comes late, a child unexpectedly cries, and the latest public policy debate flares up in the news. Life throws us curveballs, and we have no choice but to adapt. Jesus and the Apostles find themselves in that exact situation in today's Gospel.

The Apostles have returned from their two-by-two missionary journey. As Jesus hears all of their stories, he knows they need time to recover and refresh. "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while." Their wilderness retreat is short-lived, however, as eager crowds discover their location. Jesus is well aware of the needs of his disciples. Still, as he looks out at the crowd, "His heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd." The rest break is over. "He began to teach them many things." For those of us who have experienced a taste of much-needed relaxation only to have it taken away abruptly, perhaps we surmise what the Apostles might have been feeling in that moment.

"He summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two." This Sunday we read the first sending of the Apostles to preach, teach, and heal. For many of us, it can be easy to think we "just don't have enough" to be disciples and evangelists ourselves. We don't have enough education and training. We don't have enough experience talking to people about Jesus. We don't pray enough. We don't have enough faith.

If you have been closely following the Sunday readings, today's gospel could sound a bit like a broken record. Four weeks ago, the Gospel told of Jesus visiting his home of Nazareth and being poorly received by his family members. Jesus had attracted a large crowd as he preached, and his concerned relatives came to bring him home. Jesus, they thought, was out of his league.

Today's Gospel offers a rare framework -- a story in a story. Most of the healing miracles are standalone encounters. One person approaches Jesus, demonstrates faith, and is healed. The evangelist tells the next story. This Gospel, however, is different. Jesus is on his way to heal one person, a young girl of twelve, and is interrupted on his journey by "a woman afflicted with hemorrhages." She bravely approaches Jesus in a crowd, despite being ritually unclean from her bleeding, and stretches out to touch his cloak. She is healed! Jesus meets her eye, confirms her faith, and continues on to resurrect the young girl.

Tiny fingers and toes. A little yawn. A loud cry. An infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. "What will this child be?" It is a question every parent asks time and time again. As first steps are taken, as personalities emerge, as a child shows interest in reading or drawing or climbing, the question is on our lips. "What will this child be?" This question is asked as John the Baptist is born. Will he be a priest like his father? Does his strange, unexpected name signal a departure from that inheritance? Could Elizabeth and Zechariah ever have predicted what would be?

"This is how it is with the kingdom of God." What is a kingdom? Is it the brick and mortar that build up the castle? Is it the expanse of land a king can reasonably defend? Our notions of kingdoms may be romanticized in the modern era, but for the Israelites, a kingdom held deep historical meaning. Thousands of years before the birth of Christ, the Israelites had asked God for a king. After the reigns of David and Solomon, the united kingdom dissolved into factions, and the land was conquered by the Assyrians, Babylonians, and, finally, Romans. For the Israelites, a kingdom was something to build, both structurally and civilly. While this had ended in ruin for their ancestors, many of Jesus' contemporaries longed for the restoration of an earthly kingdom.

Have you ever felt judged by your family? St. John Paul II noted that the family "is the cradle of life and love" (On the Lay Members of Christ's Faithful, 40). Yet unmet expectations and divergent priorities can cause tension in even the most loving family situations. This is true for us, and it was true for Jesus!

In our modern times, symbols can seem to have lost its value. The most recognizable "signs" are ones we see on the road or the branding in advertisements. The logos for major companies don't do much more than perk our interest or disdain. They surely don't deliver on their promises for our lives to be happier, healthier, and easier.

On this feast of Corpus Christi, we hear the account of the Last Supper. This was Passover, an ancient sign of the covenant of Moses. The Hebrew people celebrated God's providential care for His people. To the listening disciples, Jesus makes a very bold claim. "This is my blood of the covenant." At the time of the first Passover -- the redemption of the Hebrew people from slavery to the Egyptians -- the blood of the sacrificial lamb was spread on the lintels of the doorpost. Tomorrow, some of the disciples would witness the blood of the new covenant spread across the wood of the cross.

Happy Trinity Sunday! In today's Gospel, we hear Jesus declare together all three Persons of the Trinity. "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Made in the image and likeness of God, we are called to imitate God's immanence by giving and receiving love with one another in community. However, this is not limited only to those close to us, though that's where love often starts. We also imitate the economy of God when we go out, when we extend our love and care in a life-giving way. "Go therefore?" Every believer is sent on mission. Every believer is invited to follow Jesus and the Apostles "to the nations," to the margins, to the people who require a little extra reach. This could be a distant relative, the residents of your local homeless shelter or even the forgotten neighbor next door! When we love well, we create something beautiful-a relationship, a holy moment, a foretaste of heaven.

As one of the most important solemnities on the Church's calendar, it has a rich depth of meaning, but here is how Pope Benedict summarized it in 2012:

This Solemnity makes us remember and relive the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles and the other disciples gathered in prayer with the Virgin Mary in the Upper Room (cf. Acts 2:1-11). Jesus, risen and ascended into Heaven, sent his Spirit to the Church so that every Christian might participate in his own divine life and become his valid witness in the world. The Holy Spirit, breaking into history, defeats aridity, opens hearts to hope, stimulates and fosters in us an interior maturity in our relationship with God and with our neighbor.

This Sunday's Gospel is known as the "priestly prayer" of Jesus. The entire passage is Jesus entrusting us to the Father. "When I was with them I protected them ? I guarded them," Jesus says. He asks his Father, "Keep them in your name." In this prayer of Jesus, we see the paradoxical tension of our life as Christians in the world. He anticipates struggle for the believer. He describes it in strong words, words that could even appear frightening to the believer. "I gave them your word, and the world hated them." Not only that, but with our eyes on eternal life, we "do not belong to the world." And yet in the midst of those realities, Jesus doesn't take us out of the world. On the contrary, "as you sent me into the world, so I sent them into the world."

"I have called you friends." Authentic friendship can seem hard to come by these days, especially in our transient society. We move away from family, change jobs, switch parishes, and end up in entirely new places with entirely new people. When we look for new friends, we all have different qualities we're looking for. While we may think of certain standards of behavior necessary to be a "good" friend, we would hardly refer to them as rules or "commandments."