Where some find scarcity, Jesus, in the context of community, offers abundance. Everyone has enough and more than enough to eat. Not only that, but the community experiences this unitive, meaningful miracle together. People not only have their physical needs met, but they have their need for belonging met as well.

Hindsight is like a sore muscle. It shows me how affliction has helped me to grow and how it has brought me closer to God. It’s not the easy times that have formed me; it’s growing through suffering that has made me into the person I am. And if God worked through hard times before, God will certainly do so again.

We are the Church of the Spirit, the Church that calls ourselves to spiritual adulting, where discipleship means discerning the movement of the Spirit and responding to it.

Maybe the point of this feast is mission. Jesus sends his followers to be witnesses – in their own backyards and throughout the whole world – and he promises to send them the Spirit. His parting is not really a goodbye but rather an invitation to something new.   

My default may be anxiety, but the deeper I go in the spiritual life, the more I see how God is at work in me, changing my default settings. God helps me to work against fear and despair to come to the peace of Christ.

God doesn’t just choose to be with us from afar, but intimately with each of us at every moment, with every breath, with every blink of the eye. With every joy and sadness, God is there.

Understanding mission as a project feels helpful, at least to me. Being assigned a project is far less daunting than being sent on a mission. Mission inspires me, but it also overwhelms me. A project is doable, one step at a time.

Through the progression of those holy days, a cosmic shift has happened, and nothing will ever be the same again. The scars of crucifixion linger on his glorified body. . . . Resurrection doesn’t cancel out crucifixion; they are both integral parts of the story.

And with God, all things are possible—even resurrection from the dead, even the transformation of the entire universe, and even Jesus still alive and with us, today!

If we open ourselves, we may suffer with Jesus. We may hurt as his experiences resonate with our own, but by uniting with him in suffering, we may also heal our pain. This week will be intense, but even so, I hope we enter in. God is in it all as we live into this holiest of weeks and the Paschal Mystery itself.

As we endure the crosses in our own lives, we have to dig down deep into hope. Resurrection is on its way. God makes all things new.

Human beings are complicated in this. We sometimes need discernment and healthy boundaries and self-protection when relationships break down. However, God, who is infinite mystery, is not complicated in this. God wants us to return no matter what. God loves us whether we’re bratty or whiny, lost, searching, wayward, or unfaithful. When we are lost and return to God, God rejoices.

Brokenness is real, but it is redeemable. As community, we can bring our woundedness together, owning our incompleteness, and drawing near each other. God is present when we come together in our brokenness, God who has chosen to be vulnerable too.

The air on mountain tops is thin so the journey back down is a healthy choice. It is in the day-to-day events that faith is both displayed and supported. For me, and probably for most of us, the only visions we will have are ones that we recognize not in blinding light, but in little glimpses of God’s love mediated through our companions.

The call I hear in the reading is to try and recognize what leads me: is it the Spirit of God or something else? If it’s the Spirit, then I am on the way toward God and toward good. If what is leading me is not of God, then I can always change directions.

We each have the ability to produce good fruit, to act out of the goodness – the God-ness – inside of us. But we also have it in us to act out of what’s not of God. My decision to do good, to move in the direction of the Spirit, (or not!) reflects on who I am as a person

The ears of my heart tell me the truth. I need to push myself to say the kind word and think the kind thought. I need to be generous and not “measured.” I need to value my life as God values it.