... you cannot bear it now.
For me, Jesus is referring not only or even primarily to the truth as proposition, but truth as relation, truth as it is embodied in persons, who are creatures in relation. Indeed, I cannot handle the truth. The truth is a fire, and when I use it, I burn myself and other people. Holy Wisdom, Spirit-Sophia, guide me always on the right path, and show me, gracious Mother, how to speak the words and do the works of your son, Jesus Christ. Teach me how to do the truth in love.
If I am going to finish The Ecumenical Revolution, I am just going to have to bring it into the chapel. Paging through National Catholic Reporter and not much else at the moment.
Our community is diminished by a third this week as the novice brothers from the Province of Saint Augustine attend their triennial chapter in Pittsburgh. Earlier this season the brothers of the Central Canada province and the Colorado province were given leave to attend their respective chapters to observe the election of their provincial minister and definitors and deal with the business of their whole province. The next chapter of the Province of Saint Mary is in May 2014.
Mass at San Lorenzo this morning. This afternoon, calls to the family, and settling in to write a long letter to a dear and beautiful friend who wrote a beautiful letter. She is far wiser than me and many. Knowing her makes me want to be better to others. Knowing her shows me how to be better.
Eucharistic adoration later this afternoon, then the evening social, dinner, silence, and fraternal recreation.
I have sent my letter to the provincial minister requesting admission to temporary vows. The application to Boston College School of Theology and Ministry is all but finished. Seven weeks remain in novitiate. Yet the work of becoming a just and compassionate person has hardly begun. Be patient, bright Spirit-Sophia, with your melancholy, impatient son.
Still chilly in the morning. It had been this way all last week. Strange that the warmth that comes does not linger through the night as I thought it would by now. I wish my hands were not cold to the touch in the morning.