Mapping normative rhythms and their interruptions, recovering voices and paths of antagonism, conjuring counter-plagues: these are the critical imperatives for the riotous times of the present.
Worship, with its “meaning-laden symbols, repeating rituals, sacred texts, shared song, prescribed prayers, re-enacted narratives,” has a way of moving the worshiper away from what is proscribed to what is prescribed; in effect, from the vices of corruption to the virtues that promote the common good.
Even homemade, organic eucharistic bread made with fair trade flour and kneaded in commitment to the life of the poor is not exempt from the kind of death-dealing economic structures that make such bread possible. While we may long for it to be otherwise, we are always both in and of the world.
True hospitality is not simply about offering occasional charity or gestures of kindness but about dismantling the structures that prevent full participation in community life. It requires courage to challenge entrenched systems of exclusion and to imagine social bonds not as transactional exchanges but as expressions of shared humanity.
When we perceive La Santa Muerte devotees as people operating outside of the rules instead of people seeking God in the messiness of a broken world, we miss the fundamentally holy desires that operate alongside the damaged ones in these practices.
It is a prudent caution not to fall prey to our own confirmation biases when reading Luke’s gospel. In today’s world of political distraction and power plays, Jesus’s central message of love and liberation is as necessary and life-giving as ever before.
In practice, their liturgies demonstrated a complex interweaving of different social justice commitments throughout the liturgy, while simultaneously, the community described only limited connections between their liturgy and the social issues they addressed as a community.
Jesus reminds us that his ministry is a disruptive one, one that is intended to allow for an awakening to justice and hospitality towards all.
The society of commodity producers that Marx described continues to expand its mystifying in a world that commodifies all things, including the eucharist, the activism of indigenous communities, and the future.
The democratic experiment of the last few hundred years is itself simply a promise: that a people can make decisions on how to live together.
Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” proves little more than another big beautiful barn—a grandiose spectacle that obscures the damage inflicted on society’s most vulnerable communities.
Those who presume upon God’s support but act in ways that defy God’s standard will find their presumption turned upside-down in divine disavowal.