Lesser Feasts

  Tampa, Florida. Labor Day weekend. The kayaks have arrived. So too has the all-day rain. We have not yet been out on the lake. Washington, D.C., Thursday, 8 September. On my way back from teaching the first third of the Phaedo , the dialogue that recounts the death of Socrates, I hear some buzz from students about the Queen's health. "They're calling the family in." Back in my office, I connect to BBC News. Huw Edwards is leading the coverage of Her Majesty's death capably and with dignity. It would of course be silly to say that I thought the Queen would never die, and the death of a 96-year-old is not in itself surprising -- though it's a bit surprising when it happens just two days after she has welcomed her fifteenth prime minister, looking physically diminished but still cheerfully meeting the demands of her role. There are those who wonder whether it is appropriate for Americans to mourn the Queen. I say it's always appropriate to mourn an extraord...

Monday, 2 August I have been assured that there will be Morning Prayer in Good Shepherd Chapel at 9:00. There is, but only because I've shown up with my Daily Office Book  in my overfilled briefcase and say it by myself. I almost forget to turn east for the creed, but no one is there to see it but God, who already knows I'm a bit scatter-brained. **** At home I have a stained-glass Saint Anselm presiding over my work. At General Seminary I have John Henry Hobart, founder of the seminary. He would be glad that I said Morning Prayer, but he would wonder where everyone else was. A bit of Episcopal Church trivia I know for some reason: he hated that portrait. ***** By noon I've made some decent progress, so I ask the cheerful woman at the front desk whether there's anywhere close, good, and cheap for lunch. "Well, there's La Bergamote. It's close and good, though not especially cheap." The Croque Monsieur is excellent. It is not especially cheap. ***** Thi...

Tomorrow I leave for Edinburgh. I have been eager for many months to be able to say that. Edinburgh is where I go to recharge, to get back to work after other duties (sometimes quite pleasant ones) have stalled my research. I have cadged an office and a nominal fellowship at the Institute for Advanced Studies in the Humanities at the University, I have found a decent flat in the New Town, and I am making the necessary arrangements to exercise my priestly ministry -- though only a bit -- in the Diocese of Edinburgh. So tomorrow I leave for Edinburgh. I have a very thorough and thoughtful packing list, which I have no doubt is going to prove to be wildly overambitious. What what the clothes I need for the un-Florida-like weather I can expect, the books I have to have for various projects, and the music I'm determined to practice (you can see the piano tucked away in the back -- I hope it doesn't sound appalling), there will be quite a lot to take. And if I could somehow manage to...