The priest of Christmas Past

Saturday, 1 March, being St David’s Day

The Central Division Meeting of the American Philosophical Association (“Central APA,” for short) is finishing up today, and I’m giving a paper at 3:30.

I was invited to give a paper as part of a session sponsored by the Society of Medieval and Renaissance Philosophy on Anselm’s influence. The invitation came well in advance—far enough in advance for me to think, as I always think, “Oh, that’s ages away. I have plenty of time to write the paper.” But ages away is now this very afternoon.

Fortunately, I finished the paper yesterday. All I have to do between now and the event is finish my PowerPoint slides, which will serve in place of a handout.

The word translated ‘legibly’ could also mean ‘handsomely’ or ‘elegantly,’ which I rather like.

You see, the Central APA is virtual this year. That means no need to travel to the usual places (often ridiculously cold places like Chicago or Denver) and spend vast amounts of money. I get to stay home, with my stained-glass Saint Anselm visible behind me as I give my talk via the APA’s (as it turns out) ridiculously clumsy interface.

My favorite (indeed only) piece of ecclesiastical salvage

Comfortable and cheap, yes. But, as it turns out, it means that there will be only five people in the session: the two speakers (both of us full professors at Jesuit institutions who have written a book on Anselm), the chair of the session, the president of the SMRP, and one guy I don’t know. The number of people interested in paying a steep registration fee for a virtual conference is apparently quite low. And it’s not that our topic is too niche to compete with all the other sessions going on at the same time. The counter shows the total conference attendance hovering at around 70 the whole time.

I didn’t mind, though, because I think this paper has legs, and I would never have started it (let alone got it into presentable shape) if I hadn’t been invited to give this talk. I can’t finish it without doing archival research, which will require traveling to Rouen, Exeter, Oxford, Cambridge, and Edinburgh this summer.

At Georgetown’s expense.

The scholarly life is oh, so hard.

Sunday, 2 March, being the Last Sunday after the Epiphany

I am awake at 5:00, which I’m not thrilled about. But there are worse things than a leisurely Sunday morning. I have time to make high-protein pancakes (oh, yeah, in two days it’s Shrove Tuesday; I guess I’m getting that in early) and then luxuriate in an extra-lavish offering of liturgical prayer: Angelus + Morning Prayer + Great Litany. I’ll still have plenty of time to shave, shower, and dress before I have to leave for church at 8:45 or so. Lovely!

Tess has other plans. She wants an extra-long walk. So, of course, she gets an extra-long walk.

My dog is content, as with marrow and fatness.

So I have an extra hour and a half for petitions, intercessions, and thanksgivings.

I’m too late now to go to church where I had intended, so (after I get cleaned up) I head to the Cathedral for the first time since Christmas Eve. It’s so good to see everyone again (most of the people I just interceded for are there). Lots of people make a point of saying I look good, which is gratifying. (I’m in mufti, in athletic-fit [seriously?] clothes that accentuate my new shape, as opposed to the oversized clerical shirts that don’t. I really do need to order smaller shirts and collars.) The new Provost is celebrating her first Sunday, and I’m glad I was there.

I’m back home in Florida because this week is our spring break. And with that paper safely done for now, it will actually be a genuine break: catching up with friends, doing a little light grading (time to listen to those podcasts the brilliant students in my Philosophy Writing Seminar have put together), maybe getting the kayaks out a couple of times.

Maybe even blogging. I seem to remember that I have a blog.

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