We are made for relationship. Yet sometimes wisdom calls for walking away, walking another way, so that life in fact can be more abundant. When we walk toward new life, it may lead to the communion for which we long.

Jesus’ vision of the Church is not a community that trembles in fear behind its own walls but one that ventures out courageously to break down the walls that hold others captive.

The “power of the pen” in the first-century Roman Empire meant the deft use of all kinds of flourishes and devices, and Paul was a pro at all of them.

Is there a more welcoming, encouraging invitation from Jesus than, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest”?

Since I’m always intrigued by the women’s stories hidden in Scripture, I imagine a conversation over tea with Sarah, the woman whose seven husbands all died on their wedding nights.

“Spend your heart.” That’s what I heard in prayer when waffling over how much of myself to give to some difficult projects.

Listening to Jesus pray, our hearts are stirred. In this crucial moment, Jesus reminds us who we are and who—in union with others—we are called to be.

With Jesus’ image of a woman giving birth, he offers us an account of what disciples should expect when we’re expecting—and it is not all cooing babes and fluffy stuffed animals.

In the end, Jesus remains closely intertwined with every one of us. The result, we’re told, is that we will “bear much fruit.” In the Lord’s vineyard, one of those fruits might be something you don’t find at the market.

Swimming in the ocean of God’s mercy during Paschaltide underlines an exhilarating discovery of our freedom in the Risen Lord.