These words and stories and lives spun a foundation of faith within me . . . an ever-renewing crop of fruit that to this day is always in season, in good times or bad.

We become what we eat . . . spiritually as well as physically. Eat soured bitter bread and become a disgruntled bitter person.

So were these the demons Jesus kept casting out wherever he went? If so, then we twenty-first-century folks might conclude that that was then, and this is now.

Sometimes Jesus’ teachings are like sirens and thunderous applause, beckoning us to pay closer attention and to become better aware of the signs of the times.

This is God’s work, of which we are given a part. Whatever we do in God’s name, God multiplies.

Ah, perhaps I should heed Jesus’ warning: “Take care what you hear.” And remember that Scripture is a dish best served in context.

I am here, Lord. I desire you, yet our communion is incomplete. My heart-storms keep us apart. Pride stifles my loving you. Self-doubt haunts me.

Whatever happened to Sabbath time? Whatever happened to the rhythm of the week, the sense of leisure, the change of pace, the time for others, the time for God?

We Americans need our hearts checked. Our hearts have grown too cold and too hard and that bodes ill for the health of our nation.

Jesus calls to these ordinary people with a compelling invitation: “Do you want to come along?” Don’t they! They jump up, hearts pounding, turning away from the known to a new vocation of following.