My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Nearness in Presence
"Rejoice," says St. Paul, "because the Lord is near." But it is not a nearness in terms of time or of distance. Instead it is a closeness of presence. It is the proximity of his being and ours joining, a nearness filled with anticipation, more than were he only near in time or space -- a gap he might close so that we might see or touch each other, but not become one another in the union of his presence and ours.
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