With Jesus we are baptised into a Spirit-inspired costly life of living the new culture of scandalous reconciliation.
With Jesus we are baptised into a Spirit-inspired costly life of living the new culture of scandalous reconciliation.
A growing incidence of cataclysmic violence is not a sign of God’s activity, but it does call us to hold on to our hope and look for God’s action in small signs of life coming from death.
We remain blind to much of what Jesus would have us see until we allow him to open our eyes to see through the eyes of others.
True greatness comes in devoting ourselves to recognising and liberating the greatness in others, and that will often come at the cost of misunderstanding, sniping and rejection.
Taking up your cross is about a willingness to pay the price of following Jesus and living out your baptism. It is not a generalised stoicism.
God is doing and saying far more than we can see or hear, but God is always ready to penetrate the presumptions and complacencies that are closing our eyes and ears.
God created everything and destined everything to be part of the one glorious story of God’s love and grace, and through Jesus, God draws us back into the story.
When things are desperate, God calls us only to be faithful and committed, because the outcomes are in God’s hands, not ours.
When we glimpse the fullness of what could be, we are called to the tough work of bridging the gap between here and there.
Jesus meets us with not just words of hope, but with actions of authority and integrity.
The impossible love and grace of God invite us to participate in the life of God despite our circumstances, but we often get stuck in trying to find meaning in the circumstances.
God offers to make us his children, a position that may not appeal to our autonomous ambitions, but which offers honour and security.
Jesus leads the way in exposing and opposing violence, no matter what the cost, and life is found in following his lead.
God’s gracious acceptance is so free from favouritism that we find it scandalous and daunting.
God’s love for us is so all-consuming that he accepts us as soon as we accept him and is happy for our behaviours to be sorted out in the transforming experience of love.
When we recognise Christ’s presence in the Eucharistic liturgy, we will bring the sick in search of healing.
In his suffering death, Jesus calls us to solidarity with all who suffer, and in his complete lack of vengefulness, the risen Christ offers the hope of healing from our violence.
The Christian life is often lived against overwhelming odds, but the presence of Christ and some basic godly resources make it a good bet.
The Kingdom of God grows like a weed – seemingly insignificant and unwanted – but it ends up with a place of refuge for everyone.
The death of Christ strips us bare, but in his resurrection we are clothed in Christ and become participants in his resurrection life.