07 April 2006

... at a coffeehouse concert -- outside, Lake Andrea’s waves are ragged as a sheer, granite cliff. I’m surrounding by LL’ers, a joyous, insouciant lot. I understand my distrust -- not of joy, but of the foundation of their joy -- I don’t see the imprint of eternity but of habit and modernity. No continuity, they seem disjointed, disconnected from the eternal church. Define Eternal Church, its nature, that element: it’s not simply “spiritual”, but temporal, historical, conceptual. (the great tragedy of the prot. church is this paucity)...

... a cliche is truth, murdered by habitually dull thought...

... one is not historically connected to the ancient church simply because he is a Christian, any more then a man is historically connected with the body of ancient and fine literature, simply because he is a writer...

... Earnest seriousness is not the weight of history, not enough at all. It is the difference between a child who desires to be taken seriously and the wise elder who is...

( C: 3 )

04 April 2006

I pulled myself away, this morning, with less than my usual vigor. I felt sick, I was cold, my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I sloshed toward the kitchen and forced cereal into my mouth, but found the food unappealing. I warmed myself in the shower, but was still cold. As a drove to school, I found it difficult to hold my eyes open. I sat through the morning meeting with all of the energy of an icy river on a December day. I tried to make it through first hour, I really did: but I was unable to even force myself through a five minute lecture. I’d really hoped to do that, so as to avoid greater confusion tomorrow. (“Read through the lesson and do the work” rarely is successful) I hadn’t the strength. (Or the control. I really didn’t feel well. I hope I don’t have morning sickness.) I went home.

It’s just as well. I was out of it.

( C: 1 )