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Chestnut Hill Reservoir, Boston MA

28 February 2014

Snowpack

As February draws to a close, so too does the first half of the semester. After seven weeks of sustaining the demands of five courses, I'm grateful for a week free of class meetings, even though much of that freedom will be directed toward researching and drafting at least one final paper. As of my latest run to the library, I've got 18 items checked out, and I'm nearly out of space on the shelf devoted to the semester's books. I take some geeky pride in all this, but having nearly three linear feet of theological writings staring at me is a sobering reminder of how much information I'm being asked to process.

Faber Jesuit Community
Brighton MA
Fortunately, the other view staring at me is one of consoling wintry beauty. I'm well aware that many in New England are growing tired of the snow and unusual cold that have characterized the past two and a half months. I, for one, will certainly welcome days when the temperature for my morning runs isn't uncannily close to the number of miles I'm running. And there are already signs of spring's slow onset– the horizon brims with brilliant predawn light ever earlier, I hear more birds in that same tranquil time of the morning, and the steadily climbing sun is slowly picking away at the snowpack.

As I turn to my heavier writing projects, steeped in hundreds of pages of articles on everything from migration to the body, from ethics to treatises on faith and culture, I'm hoping to see the insights buried in nearly two months of reading and thinking slowly trickle out. Just as the northern forests sing with streaming snowmelt in March, the papers I'll write have the potential to stir my spirit and inspire my mind with new learning about the connections between theology, social teachings, and the concrete experiences and practical challenges faced by my neighbors near and far. Any meaningful contributions of mine may be as far off as the spring blooms that so many of us await, but the expectation of the latter is a powerful hope whose vigor, at least for me, grows with every passing day.

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