[Y]ou may even find yourselves fighting against God.
We are fighting against God all the time but are aware of it barely part of the time. Would we know it even if we were vigilant not to oppose God consciously? Could we know it? And what would we do if we did know it?
Continuing Dietrich, Broken and Shared, and Hospitality and The Pilgrim. Commonweal, checking in with another outstanding issue, should be receiving my subscription renewal any day now.
Thanking God for the artists of the world, who, in giving voice and vision to the human soul, create the conscience of the human race; who remind us of the beauty of creation and point out for us the mysteries of life and existence. Spent four hours at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art yesterday, and my eyes were tired by midafternoon. I felt spent the way I do after long and sustained prayer or solemn liturgies. When I stand in galleries of so many visually arresting images, I become conscious of an unusually concentrated presence of the sacred, and I begin to grow weak. Sometimes it becomes too much for me as I am over-saturated by what I behold. The exhibits of Latin American modern art and the photography of Danny Lyon had the greatest cumulative effect, overwhelming my spiritual senses. A good afternoon of serious leisure.
Morning prayer, silent meditation, and Mass this morning. Going to the prison in Lompoc in a little while. Half the men were crippled by the norovirus last Friday; we were sorry not to see them, as it had already been three weeks since we had seen them last. The silent retreat in the Santa Cruz Mountains and Good Friday interrupted our ministry schedule. We'll make up for it today and again on Sunday when my novice brother and I attend Mass with the men at the low- and medium-security facilities.
It still gets nippy in the morning. The sun melts away the inner chill, though it takes longer some days. Soon enough it will be warm at night, then hot during the day. And the laments will come from those who would rather freeze.