I am not always aware of it, but there is an aspect of myself that peers out at the moving parts of my family every day on the lookout for moments of cohesion. They are flickering to be sure, the occasions upon which the wills of five very different people coalesce to become a collective initiative, each one their own distinct part of some shared design. They are not impossible, however; they glint at you for a heartbeat before becoming obscured again, wiggly green bits of magic falling through your fingers only to bury themselves in the ground at your feet. On Sunday, we made it to the end of a church service that, while not overlong in length, sure managed to feel that…