A Rogue Priest Without An Altar
I've been wanting to write this for the last nine years but I've been too afraid to. I still am. However, it seems like it is time because for some reason, I have been plagued this week with thoughts of the past. When I write " thoughts of the past" I actually mean visual flashbacks of events, places, people. Most often my thinking begins in pictures and then these pictures are translated into words. It's one of my secret (no longer!) superpowers. This week, I've seen the chapel at Trinity College, Toronto, just after communion, when it is empty and quiet and the cloud of incense still floats high in the air and the students can be heard in the cavernous Strachan Hall, collecting their next meal in between classes, with cutlery clinking and loud laughter and jokes. I've seen St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in Edinburgh, with its tall, triple spires that frame the landscape along Queensferry Road, a place that is always cold and always dark, with wet,...