Three Conversations
The morning runners were standing in the coffee shop, talking; I was theoretically writing in my journal but my attention was distracted. They were talking about “the city,” as in, “Are you going to the city a day early?” I thought: we’re in Dallas; what is this “city” they’re talking about? It being October, it turned out they were talking about the New York City marathon. My eyes couldn’t resist: I lifted my head to look at them. I had to see these god-like blessed humans for myself. You don’t just decide you’ll go run the NYC marathon: you have to apply and you have to have excellent running times to make the cut. Physical gods as they might have been, their conversation was young-professional practical: where to stay, what to see beforehand, whether they nabbed a good flight.
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It was the airline that has recently announced that, out of financial envy, it wants to be just like all the other miserable airlines. But the change hasn’t happened yet, which means conversation still has to occur as you line up. “I’m B-2,” I said to the young woman in the line I was joining; “are you B-1?” Having sorted our proper order, we talked about New York and Dallas, discovering we each had lived in both cities but in reverse order. A Dallasite, she was about to experience her first winter in New York, for which she had invested in first heavy coat ever. I told her of giving away a heavy wool cape to a young colleague of mine who moved (Dallas to New York) last year; I had not worn it since leaving “the city.” We compared winters and bemoaned the insane driving in Texas when it snows.
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Once on the plane, I nabbed a window seat. The other passenger in the row (the middle seat unclaimed) wore a rumpled suit. He had been in New York for work, visiting various book publishers. “I hope you’re not a print-on-demand company,” I said. No, his company makes books, good books. When asked, I told him I was a priest and theologian. He named a small Catholic press and asked if I knew of it. I was enthusiastic: I admire their books very much; their paperbacks are quality with sewn signatures (the pages never fall out) and cover flaps. He said, We make their books—at least, some of them.
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None of these conversations has a sequel. The runners will be in this weekend’s marathon; the Dallasite will be back in “the city” having visited her family; the book maker is doing his part to keep his company going. Their lives go on, as does mine. We are not friends. But these simple conversations are an important part of our lives as we eat and walk and fly and work. Oliver O’Donovan says they are “friendly” connections. They are ways of saying to other people, Although you and I are not actually friends in this life, if in God’s providence it should turn out that we became friends, that would not be a bad thing.
We strive to be friendly, because God’s eternal intention may be for us to be friends.
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Out & About: Talks on Augustine’s Confessions continue, at St. Matthew’s Cathedral, on Sunday, November 9. This will be on Book IV in the Great Hall at 10:20 a.m. You are welcome to attend regardless of whether you've read the book.Also on November 9 at St. Matthew’s, at 5 p.m., the Good Books & Good Talk will have its final 2025 seminar. We will be discussing T. S. Eliot’s hit play, “Murder in the Cathedral.” Anyone interested is welcome to come; if you read the play, you’ll be welcome to talk. We run to 6:30 and meet on the 2nd floor of Garrett Hall; from about 4:45 there will be someone at the door to let you in.
On Sunday, November 16, I am to preach at St. Nicholas Church in Flower Mound, Tex.
On the Web: The publisher Wipf & Stock has their whole stock on sale for roughly the next month; 50% off and free media mail shipping in the U.S. They publish lots of books, including one by yours truly (A Post-Covid Catechesis, a short book on five important Christian claims today) and several volumes in the Pro Ecclesia series. The website is wipfandstock.com; the code is CONFSHIP.