Hello friends,
This is Mark Gladman,
Also known as Brother Frederick James,
Your friendly neighbourhood monk in docks,
Welcoming you to day 19 of our Lenten 2026 journey into the wilderness,
Still held,
As we walk through the Gospel of John on our way towards Easter.
As always,
I invite you to still yourself,
Settle yourself,
Take a slow breath in and out.
Arrive fully in this moment.
Let the surface noise settle.
And hear the words of Jesus in John's Gospel,
Chapter 6,
Verse 35,
Where Jesus says,
I am the bread of life.
Whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
Let's stay here for a moment,
Right from the beginning.
I am the bread of life.
Do you notice that Jesus doesn't offer any other information?
He literally offers himself as bread.
Bread is simple,
It's ordinary,
It's daily.
There's no spectacle in bread,
There's nothing exciting about it.
But at its depth,
At its utmost core,
It is deep sustenance.
And Jesus speaks these words into a world that knows hunger.
Physical hunger,
Spiritual hunger,
The hunger for meaning,
The hunger to be seen,
The hunger to be secure.
And if you're honest,
You know this hunger too,
Because the reality is,
Is we all do.
What does hunger feel like in you right now?
Is it restlessness?
Perhaps the reflex to check your phone?
Maybe the quiet ache that asks for affirmation?
Or perhaps the low hum of anxiety that wants relief?
So many of us consume endlessly these days,
Don't we?
Information,
Opinions,
News,
Podcasts,
Notifications,
Affirmation,
Distraction.
We feed constantly.
And yet,
If we're honest,
None of that,
None of that nourishes us.
But Jesus doesn't shame our hunger here.
He redirects it.
He moves it from the things that give us temporary satisfaction towards enduring life.
I am the bread.
Bread doesn't spike our systems.
Bread steadies us.
And abiding in God requires this different kind of feeding,
That sustenance.
Let that distinction sink in.
Stimulation versus sustenance.
Stimulation excites,
But it exhausts.
Whereas sustenance strengthens us and then anchors us.
And you know the difference,
Because I'm sure you've felt this in your body before.
There are things that we consume that leave us jittery and scattered and depleted.
And there are moments,
Maybe even quieter ones,
That leave us strengthened,
Steady.
What you regularly receive shapes who you become.
Have you ever noticed that when we live on outrage,
At least for a while,
We become reactive?
And that if you've ever spent any time living on comparison,
You'll know how anxious that that can make you.
And if we try and live on the affirmations we receive,
Well,
We become fragile and we get hungry pretty quick.
But if you learn to receive Christ slowly,
Repeatedly,
Something in you stabilizes.
Your reaction softens.
Your center,
Your sacred center holds fast.
Now in the wilderness,
Appetite is often simplified.
When Israel wandered,
There wasn't a buffet with abundant choice of food.
It was just manna in the desert,
Daily bread.
The wilderness always strips away illusion and reveals what actually sustains life.
And sometimes your own interior wilderness,
The exhaustion,
The transition,
The grief,
The uncertainty,
Is doing the same work.
It's clarifying what your appetite really needs.
So just take a moment to gently ask yourself,
When I feel empty,
What am I reaching for?
When you're tired,
What do you consume?
When you feel unseen,
What do you scroll for?
When you feel anxious,
What do you reach towards?
And now ask a second question.
What do I do that afterwards leaves me quietly strengthened,
Not buzzed or numbed,
But strengthened?
Maybe it's silence.
Perhaps scripture slowly read.
For some,
It might be the Eucharist or Holy Communion.
Maybe taking a walk without headphones.
Maybe somehow connecting yourself to the earth or to the ocean.
Perhaps honest prayer.
Or maybe just simply sitting and whispering,
God,
You are enough for this moment.
The sort of bread we're talking about,
The bread that abides,
It's daily,
It's repeated,
And quite often it's hidden.
Abiding means choosing what gives life rather than what merely soothes us.
Soothing's not wrong,
But it doesn't build us.
Sustenance builds.
Right now,
Imagine placing your hunger in Christ's hands.
Don't try and squash it and don't try and fix it.
Just offer it.
Just give it as it is and hear him say again,
I am the bread of life.
Allow the words in this moment to move from an ideal to a reality.
From fear to nourishment.
Imagine receiving them the way your body receives bread,
Slowly,
Gratefully,
Trustingly.
I invite you to take a deep breath in again,
And out,
And notice your body.
Is there a little more steadiness as you think about this?
Do you feel a bit more weight in your sacred center?
You see,
In saying I am the bread of life,
Jesus isn't suggesting that we eliminate our hungers,
But to bring them to the right table.
And over time,
What you regularly receive will shape who you are.
Someone rooted.
Someone who doesn't need constant stimulation to feel alive.
Someone who's fed from within.
Fed by the bread of life.
Just stay here for a few moments,
Breathing in and out.
Quietly strengthened,
Friend,
Anchored.
And may you carry this awareness into the rest of the day.
May you always choose the bread that nourishes.
May you always choose the bread that abides.
And may grace,
Peace,
And love go with you every step,
Every day,
Today,
And always.
Amen.
Until tomorrow,
Be nourished.
Amen.
Grace and peace.
