Month: October 2021

Two very casual miles, croissant breakfast, five student sermons, more timetable wrangling, and eventually, the end of Noughth. That’s not the same as a teaching week, but it’s still the first out of ten weeks of Michaelmas Term, so I’m 10% of the way there. I’ll take it.

I slept nine hours last night, the longest night I’ve had in ages, which felt delicious — less for the sleep than for the felt freedom to lie in as long as I cared to. This morning, two more miles, then groceries, hot breakfast, leisurely morning, then into town to buy a pair of shoes, relaxing afternoon of reading, and an evening of political suspense.

Yes, I am a stickler for form. I do not deny it. But there is great reason to expect that those who publish quoted excerpts from [other] quoted works will cite their sources, and it scorches my toast when they just wave their hands and say (in the words of the Epistle to the Hebrews) ‘someone has testified somewhere.’

Case in point (you knew I wasn’t just spontaneously irritable, I hope): the Office of Readings gives a passage that includes the following observation.

What fresh sort of suffering, brothers, does the human race now endure that our fathers did not undergo? Or when do we endure the kind of sufferings which we know they endured? Yet you find men complaining about the times they live in, saying that the times of our parents were good. What if they could be taken back to the times of their parents, and should then complain? The past times that you think were good, are good because they are not yours here and now.

But all it says by way of documentation is ‘from a sermon by Saint Augustine,’ as if there were only one or two and the passage could easily be found. The quotation is striking enough that it appears in a variety of devotional webpages, but nowhere with proper attribution.

I see that in Sermon 25, Augustine says, ‘Listen to what it all means. There are baleful, evil days. Is it here we spend evil days, from the moment we were thrown out of paradise? Not only did our elders complain about their days, their grandparents too complained about their days. People have never been pleased with the days they lived in. But the days of the ancestors please their descendants, and they too were pleased with days they hadn’t experienced — and that’s precisely why they thought them pleasant. It’s what’s present that is sharply felt. I don’t mean it comes nearer, but it touches the heart every day.’ Close, but not an exact match; and it doesn’t even look like a different translation of the same text.

Ha! Success! ‘So we really mustn’t grumble, brothers and sisters, as some of them grumbled, so the apostle says, and perished from the serpents. What unusual horror, brothers and sisters, is the human race enduring now, that our ancestors didn’t have to endure? Or when do we have to endure such things as we know they endured? And you’ll find people grumbling about their times, and saying that the times of our parents were good. Suppose, though, they could be whisked back to the times of their parents, they would still grumble even then.’ It’s Sermon 346C. This version is from The Works of Saint Augustine – A Translation for the 21st Century, Part III — Sermons, Volume 10: Sermons 341-400, trans. Edmund Hill, O.P., and ed. John E. Rotelle, O.S.A. (Hyde Park NY: New City Press, 1995), p. 84. Whew.

Yesterday, two miles, fruit breakfast, meetings with students, more meetings with stuydents, looking up alternatives and possibilities, emailing hither and yon, and so on. Cinema date with Margaret, one in which things exploded satisfactorily (for anyone old enough to remember, that’s the English translation for Big Jim McBob’s and Billy Sol Hurok’s ‘they blowed up real good’).

Today, two miles, though I walked some of the distance mulling over the moment in which a passer-by (actually, I was passing him, but I’m not sure there’s a word for someone you pass by) called to me quietly, ‘Bruh!’ I stopped and asked ‘What?’ ‘Do you take, bruh?’ I looked blank. ‘Do you take?’ (and he mimed what must have been snorting cocaine or some other powder). It is a measure of how distant I’ve grown from the street, from any of my Augustinian revels, that I had no specific idea what he was talking about. I shrugged, he waved me off, and I kept running — but it underscored the undeniable fact that I am not street-aware even to the partial extent I once was.

I’m hoping for a hot breakfast, anticipate more meetings with more students and more emailing, and Freshers Welcome Dinner tonight at St Stephen’s House.

Two miles, and on my run I saw two foxes, after having not seen any foxes for months. I saw them about a mile apart: the first, near the outlet of James Street onto the Iffley Road, and the second crossing Hurst Street near Henley. If seeing two distinct foxes is an omen, please let me know what to expect.

Fruit breakfast, lots of emailing to arrange meetings, lecture on ‘Preaching the Scriptures,’ more email…

Two miles, fruit breakfast, Induction Week,Chapel Practice,

Two miles, Mass at St Barnabas (filling in for Fr Christopher), hot breakfast, first Mass of Michaelmas Term at St John the Evangelist, student Welcome Barbecue at St Stephen’s House, collapse in a heap.

Two miles, hot breakfast, video shoot for a promotional trailer, and tea for moving-in students.

Two miles, fruit breakfast, staff meeting, lunch, all-staff meeting, and to wind up the long vac Margaret and I indulged in The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard and The Green Knight (yes, it’s an odd double bill, but we’re not ordinary people).