I am sitting in a downtown café, after, thinking. I havejust spent most of an afternoon with him. Our encountersalways leave me weary of the glum contentment thatcharacterizes my life. What were those words he used thatstruck me? Ah, yes: "dry, yeastless factuality", "the betterstory". I take pen and paper out and write:
Words of divine consciousness: moral exaltation; ‘ lastingfeelings of elevation, elation, joy; a quickening of the moralsense, which strikes one as more important than anintellectual understanding of things; an alignment of theuniverse along moral lines, not intellectual ones; arealization that the founding principle of existence is whatwe call love, which works itself out sometimes not clearly,not cleanly, not immediately, nonetheless ineluctably.
I pause. What of God's silence? I think it over. I add:
An intellect confounded yet a trusting sense of presenceand of ultimate purpose.