"... go down to Egypt...."
Of course, we are always in Egypt in the process of leaving for the Promised Land. Even here, at San Lorenzo, we are in Egypt. Do not be deceived into believing this is heaven or the kin(g)dom of God: it is not. We must always be leaving Egypt for Israel. To do this, first we must confess we are in Egypt and have made of God's creation a plaything for Pharaoh. Then we must dig in our heels and know the place we are in: accepting that we are in Egypt and not in Israel, we go down further into the heart of Pharaoh's domain. Why? To rouse the people, to build up our numbers, and prepare for the exodus of the people of God to the Promised Land. Go down to Egypt? I've been doing that, even this year. I will continue to do so in order to keep my feet planted firmly, ready for the command to head to Israel, to the New Jerusalem, to live my way into the reign of God.
Keeping on with Johnson, Miryam, until I leave tomorrow.
It is time to detach in a gentle but unsentimental way from this place and from the community. This fraternity must part; best to do so in faith, hope, and love. Already I feel myself falling short of the mark, but I will pick myself up again, 77 times today if I must, to make a good good-bye.
More cleaning up and straightening up this morning. This afternoon, a little more work in the vineyard, boring holes into the dense, dry earth and weeding where the new lines of vines were planted last week.
This evening, after the meal, a solemn liturgy for night prayer and our final evening of recreation as a fraternity.
Almost lunchtime now. I hope to get back online later to post the lyrics to "Transitus," as I promised. And at some point I will post my itinerary for the week prior to profession.
A good summer day, hot but not oppressive. Sunny as always. In a few days I will discover again what rain looks like, sounds like, smells like, feels like.