I was, as the prophet said, hungering and thirsting for righteousness. I found it at the eternal and material core of Christianity: body, blood, bread, wine, poured out freely, shared by all.

Love does not end when we don't see each other.

Jesus doesn't care if you feel guilty. Jesus wants you to change.

There's a hunger beyond food that's expressed in food, and that's why feeding is always a kind of miracle.

Heavenly comfort, rather, is truth, which blows away human fantasies that we can live forever, control everything, or fake our lives before God.

I was expelled from four schools. Today I still read with difficulty.

It doesn't promise to solve or erase suffering but to transform it, pledging that by loving one another, even through pain, we will find more life. And it insists that by opening ourselves to strangers, the despised or frightening or unintelligible other, we will see more and more of the holy, since, without exception, all people are one body: God's.