Yesterday was one of those days when I was in a strange mood, not necessarily bad or good, but just strange. The day was book-ended by e-mails that I wrote, the old-fashioned kind that are more like letters, the kind that brings friends up to date with the pivots of the last month. I had a video chat with a friend--sobering to realize that she came into my life when she took one of the best classes I've ever taught, the early Victorian Brit Lit class at Florida Atlantic University, a class of only English majors, who did all the reading and had riveting conversations about it. It's sobering to realize because that was over 20 years ago.
In the afternoon, I had a video chat with my spouse. In some ways, it was about the purpose of church, the purpose of preaching, social justice and charity. We've been having this conversation for 40 years, and I'm happy to say we've finally resolved it all. HA! We will never resolve these issues, and there are days when I don't fully understand why we care at all.
My spouse was in one of those "the only kind of preaching that should come from the pulpit is THIS kind of preaching." I was in a mood to remind him that the world is full of damaged souls who can't respond to that kind of preaching, that go out and transform society kind of preaching, because they need to know and hear and believe that God loves them, that they are valuable. We weren't disagreeing, exactly, but I do feel we were exhausting each other.
Part of me felt snarly, because neither one of us is out there transforming society, doing justice, breaking the bonds of oppression. I don't feel like I'm in a position to criticize others who are similarly sitting on the sofa, working on other projects, yet taking care in smaller ways.
And then I watched a lecture for World Religions class about Buddhism, which further scrambled my mood. To clear my mind a bit, I went for a walk. It was just at sunset, and I was happy to be reminded of how beautiful the light can be. I watched the lights come on in houses that cost more than I will ever be able to afford. I checked the moon; I know that Jupiter and Venus are about to be closer in the night sky than they will be again all year, but they weren't visible yet. I kept walking, and as the sky got a smidge darker, I saw them, old friends of a different sort.
And just to make my mood even stranger, I came home and read this NYT Magazine piece about the COVID oral history project. I ate some of my baguette, ate pricy cheese and olives, and thought about what a topsy-turvy time we're living in.
Today I need to sit myself down and focus on some writing tasks. I've done the fun ones, and now I need to get the Teresa of Avila paper done. She's not my favorite, but we had a choice of 3 works, and I like the others even less; I am not spending one more minute of my life engaging with Jonathan Edwards, thank you very much. It's this angry god theology that's got us in so much trouble--and I know if I write that kind of paper, my Church History professor will slam me for it.
So, onward to interior castles and beyond!
No comments:
Post a Comment